#and someone made that post where death is the true opposite of storm and I FUCKING LOVED THAT POST

[anxiously-sidequesting]

My favorite school will always be Storm because it's my aesthetic and I vibe with it more than anything else but from a narrative standpoint Death is my absolute favorite. Like almost all the interesting Wizard101 NPCS and the two major arc villains we've had all come from there, and everyone sans Penny has some sort of trauma associated with their school of choice due to the very magic they're practicing, or the individual that practices it. There's so much going on in that area where everyone inside it and outside is affected, even the world around them.

Even death itself is an interesting topic irl, and also the fact that Death is feared even in the wizard world opens so much content for multiple stories RIGHT THERE, and then you have internal problems such as Ambrose himself seeming to keep his biased opinions close to him and keeping necromancers at an arm's length, and that perspective then bounces off on other people (Morganthe, which starts her villain arc; Duncan, who was persuaded to switch schools even BEFORE he became a villain; Dworgyn and Mortis, who are left behind). It's just story after story after story. All the interesting characters and their stories are right where Death is and if Storm wasn't my absolute favorite it would be Death. Necromancers seriously rock and they're so cool in every single way

#it also helps that ive bonded with all the death characters we've seen in the game in my own way LMAO #from penny dreaful to malistaire i love them all for different reasons but it all stems from the fact that they're necromancers #and someone made that post where death is the true opposite of storm and I FUCKING LOVED THAT POST #if i didnt fuck with storm so much i would definitely stan death #like thinking that my wizard has another secondary school before they switch to death later on down the road #also i just think about malorn a lot. like a whole lot. #ghostcond's necromancer art also has greatly heightened my love for the charafters because the art is so fucking good #like penny's hijab??????? THAT'S THE BEST THING THAT THIS WORLD HAS EVER SEEN #necromancers give me brainrot even more than diviners do and that is a COMPLIMENT coming from me #anyways gonna think about malorn in my room for the 64th time this week #wizard101 #w101 #wiz101 #text posts

[house-of-mirrors]

The second of my OC introduction posts is ready! Meet Samuel Weatherbee, the Laconic Captain. The appointed Dad of the friend group, but if you think that makes him more responsible/less chaotic than everyone else, you’d find the opposite to be actually true. Picrew link

Edit: Notes on his past as a zailor and a possible future after playing Irem

Quick Facts:

•       Was already orphaned before London fell. Didn’t know his old surname, so the urchin gangs came up with this one for him

•       What we’d call in modern language to be semi-verbal. Can’t get two words out of him most of the time [though he is good at letter writing], but he’s the best at his interests: navigating and monster hunting

•       Spent much of his life as a zee-captain before retiring to run a modest bar [I had already decided he was a bartender before playing BAL, and I was repeatedly amused by the plots of obtaining rare bottles and interactions with Mr Wines]

•       Hasn’t considered himself human in 30 years and isn’t bothered a bit by that fact

•       Rumored to be immortal, whether that’s from something he found in his days at zee, a deal with a devil, a deal with a god, or a certain card game. Really, he fears the true death more than almost anything and has taken great measures to avoid it.

•       Refuses to phrase any statement as a question. One may ascribe this to his lack of interest in conversation, or one may wonder just how far East he almost went, once

•       Not quite religious, but superstitious about Stone, Storm, and Salt

•       Since he’s been in the Neath since London fell, he feels he knows it better than most. He generally believes it to be futile to challenge cosmic powers and is happy to spend his days as an NPC running a rest point for others. That is, until he meets “his kids.” [My OC Orsinio as well as a few of my friend’s OCs, and later April]

•       Had a bit of a midlife crisis (as much as that means when you can’t die) and wanted to have new stories to tell his young friends, so walked into the Medusa’s Head on a whim one night to begin hunting the Vake. Regrets it immediately and spends most of the ambition wishing he had never left his bar

•       The ambition journey made him realize that it is possible for humans to take a stand against cosmic power. He can’t change everything or save everyone, but he can do something about this immediate problem and save someone.

•       Yes, yes, putting an end to millennia of senseless violence is well and good, but really, he wanted to fight Veils for flirting with his kids (Paisley sure did happen) and calling him “Sammy”

•       Before Bag a Legend, he would walk away from any problem he couldn’t solve. Now, his method is something of, “forceful first, ask questions never” 

•       Now, he’s officially back on the playing board, making waves in the Neath again rather than flying under the radar. The Masters somewhere heard saying, “Oh no, he’s back” before proceeding to pester him for help with everything. Maybe he’d actually say yes for once if they hadn’t picked up the trend of calling him “Sammy” [The one time he actually speaks for more than a single sentence at once is yelling at Wines during railway. 10/10 funniest moment for that to happen]

•       Can be impulsive and stubborn. Because he knows the Neath so well from experience, he feels like his decisions are the right ones, and he struggles to compromise when others have different sources of knowledge and plans

•       Exemplifies the adventure hero archetype of period-typical literature. He’s not too interested in lore or power, only the thrill of discovery. Never wonders if he really should be somewhere, only that it’s his right to explore

•       Doesn’t have bad intentions, but was indeed raised on Victorian British imperialist propaganda, which I imagine only got worse after London fell. His “kids,” especially Orsinio, help him to unpack some of that and challenge the ideals he was raised on. This will become relevant during Evolution arc

•       No matter where London goes, he’ll be there, keeping the home fires burning. He wants to be a sanctuary for everyone with no exception, a protector. It was a spur of the moment choice, but this is the reason he chose to make his double into a city at the end of the railway. Dabbled into the Discordance because what better fit for him than language that revolves around not speaking?

•       Plays red with a black lean on the chessboard. Not too fussed about cosmic forces, but he grew up on the streets and spent much of his life working class. And he sees death as something to be conquered, so naturally, he opposes light.

•       “A mix of voices” railway ending, he can’t be bothered with strong political opinions [I really wanted to get the perfectly balanced ending but I was ONE off, alas]

#my ocs #fallen london #bal spoilers #railway spoilers #fl spoilers #it's MY ocs and I get to make most of them aspec and autistic #there aren't enough picrews for dilfs and it's a crime #instead of hunter mine it was just ppspsps sammy cmere sammy #funniest of my ocs hands down

[bastillewolf]

Corpse's Bride (I)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: When you end up in an unfortunate arranged marriage to salvage what is left of your parents’ wealth, it seems fate has other ideas in store for you; or perhaps it was the Devil who decided to bring back the dead?

Notes: Yea, I don’t know why I wrote this either, and no idea where this series is gonna go. If you have any suggestions, please send them. But I wanted to write something for Christmas since I haven’t posted in a while. I hope you all have safe and happy holidays! Let’s just get 2020 over with, please.

Tag list currently closed.

Chapter I - The wedding

Somewhere through the clouds of smoke erupting from the city, just beyond the hills, lies a small town called Gloomington. Where the streets are always swept and yet seem never clean, where birds fly high through the sky yet never manage to reach the clouds, and where dreams are crushed underneath the wheels of creaking carriages and half-empty fish barrels. It might seem like the most boring old town, with its inhabitants that look like they’re either on the brink of death or very much willing to be, but it wasn’t to you. No, to you life appeared much more interesting, though not by your own volition. You did not turn a blind eye to the grey streets or creaking bones or listening ears, as they had always been the same to you, but the troubles you had yet to bear were much too big to focus on anything else.

Your parents had deemed that on your twenty-first birthday, you were finally fit for marriage. It was the age that they had gotten married, and by tradition, through their parents as well. Why they had decided to force this upon you as well, you did not know, for as long as you could remember you’d only ever thought of your parents to be miserable together. Their time with you was now something of the past, however, because if all went well today, you would be married within just a day or two.

It was already raining, which would’ve made the situation so much gloomier to you if you hadn’t been revelling in the fact that it meant you could take the carriage instead of walk. You didn’t mind getting your shoes or the hem of your dress dirty, but other people did. And the people you would be seeing today would not approve of anything that wasn’t perfect upon arrival.

You only remembered the Everglots vaguely from your childhood during the instance when you’d been playing in a similar storm and one of their maids had shooed you away, saying you were being too loud and an unfit view for their folk. Their house was a different story, however. It stood tall above all other houses, even yours, so it was hard to miss. You weren’t rich, even though your parents liked to pretend they were. Your father owned the biggest and only fishing company in town; the main source of income from Gloomington. The thing was though, the seas were being overfished, and all he was getting from the ocean now were ones the sizes of goldfish.

You presumed this is why your parents decided to marry you off to the Everglots’ son, Thomas. According to your nanny, they were a bunch of washed-up aristocrats. Otherwise, you’d never even caught a glimpse of them, let alone of their offspring. Which is probably why you were so nervous. If he was anything like his parents personality-wise, you hoped he at least made up for it on the outside.

“Stop fidgeting,” your mother said, snapping you from your daze. You looked down to your hands, which had been crumpling a bunch of the fabric of your dress together, probably creating creases. You wonder if you had subconsciously done it, simply out of spite, because the nerves had numbed any other senses. You smoothed it out, crossed your legs and folded your hands across your lap, to which your mother gave a pleased nod.

A glance towards your father told you not much else, he was too busy going through last-minute calculations in his notebook. This must seem like ordinary business to him.

Your heart jumped a little as you watched the horse pulling your carriage nearly slip in the mud. He’d been in your family for fifteen years now, it was a wonder he was still standing. Perhaps the whip was reason enough for such a solemn animal, confined to his leather straps and iron mouthpiece. You tugged on the silver chain your mother had draped across your neck. Some of the diamonds had been taken out, but you could only see it if you looked very closely.

The carriage wavered and eventually managed to stop with another crack of the whip. It went almost simultaneously with the clash of thunder.

Hopping out, you looked down to see your polished shoes had landed directly in the biggest puddle on the square.

“Oh, miss, you should’ve let me put my coat down for you,” the old coachman called out, rising from his seat.

Your mother’s unnerving gaze followed yours down to the puddle around your feet. “Yes, you should have. I told you to watch your step with those shoes. Henry, clean them up.”

The coachman then proceeded to lay down his coat in the puddle anyways, and even after your protests continued to polish your shoes with his previously clean white handkerchief. You thanked him when he was finished, to which he tipped his hat.

“Hurry up. We’re already late,” your mother said. You wanted to rip the whip from his hands and hit her with it, but your composure and good sense got the better of you.

The massive doorknocker hit the hardwood three times because of your father’s shaky hand, which seemed to collapse back down to his side immediately after.

To your surprise, no maid opened, but the lady of the house herself did. Missus Everglot looked down upon you with a smile that looked more like a sneer. Her hair was greying, almost to the point where it was white, a colour matching the black dress she wore. Weren’t you supposed to wear colour for a special occasion such as this? You’d been so bold to wear something green; your best dress, to be perfectly honest. Were you supposed to wear black?

“It is good to see you again,” she hummed, and your parents made noises of agreement.

“Our apologies for bringing the bad weather. But that usually means good luck!” Your father said. You all laughed, though mostly out of politeness.

She invited you in, and you were finally able to see the grandeur of the Everglots household. Or well, what was left of it. The unlit fireplaces on either side of the entrance hall made you wonder if they no longer had maids working for them or if they simply enjoyed the cold. There was only one butler you saw so far, the one who took your coats from you and then scurried off. A big staircase stood in front of you, leading two opposite directions upstairs.

“Ah! You must be the daughter we’ve been hearing so much about!” Mister Everglot suddenly appeared, his arms spread wide with the same smile as his wife spread across his pale cheeks. He also wore black, though he bore quite a bit more weight than his wife, almost to the point where the top button of his shirt looked like it wanted to bail ship.

“It’s a true pleasure meeting you, mister Everglot,” you replied quietly, holding out your hand for him to shake. He barely did, before brushing you off to gloat about things to your parents. “You know, we’ve picked out the finest gold for the rings. The blacksmith in town just did a marvellous job on them-“

The ring on your hand felt heavy. It was your grandmothers’, passed down from your mother and onto you. Now you had to bear the burden of a loveless marriage.

Your silent sigh was interrupted by a quiet clearing of someone’s throat.

You looked up to meet the eyes of a dark-haired boy, who was scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. He asked you if he got your name right. You nodded politely.

“Hi, I’m- I’m Thomas. It’s very nice to meet you, miss.”

You huffed in amusement at his stuttering. “I don’t think you have to call me ‘miss’, Thomas. We’ll be married soon.”

He smiled shyly. “I would keep calling you ‘miss’ if you preferred it. Marriage wouldn’t change that for me.”

You stood there, slightly aghast. This boy was nothing like his parents. You wondered who had raised him because as you had been fortunate enough with your nanny, you couldn’t imagine his having been any different.

“Better watch it there, Thomas.” Another man strutted down the stairs behind him. He looked just about as pretentious as mister and missus Everglot. “Don’t want to scare the little lady off there.”

Sykkuno only chuckled, but you could sense that his friend didn’t have the best intentions. He introduced himself after you, “The name’s Barkis. I’m a… good family friend of the Everglots, I suppose.” He kissed your hand, which made you shiver uncomfortably. You tried your best to hide it, instead turning your eyes to meet Thomas’ again. They seemed much brighter in this gloomy place.

At least, that’s what you kept reminding yourself of as you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to refrain from fainting as your mother kept pulling on the strings of your corset until you were quite certain a few ribs had been broken off in the process.

“Now,” she reminded you, “This will be good for the family. I know you’re an unconventional spitfire, - I don’t know who you got that from – but you shall learn to listen to your husband. It will save your father’s business and his honour, not to mention your dignity.”

You couldn’t breathe, you needed air. Your mother saw the look in your eyes.

“And as a final warning, young lady, if you dare to try to run, you better remind yourself that this family will never take you in again. Not when you come crawling back with not a penny to carry, not with a baby you got from another man. You will be as good as dead to us, if you wouldn’t have already died in some gutter.”

You nodded, “I understand, mother. I just need some air.”

She gave you one last glance, before nodding. She locked the door after she left.

It allowed you to burst through the doors to the Everglots balcony, where outside the rain had thankfully settled a bit to a slight drizzle. But you didn’t care if your dress got wet. You had to untie the knot at your back.

Quickly.

But you couldn’t reach.

You leaned across the railing.

If you could reach a little further-

But your hand slipped, and you felt your feet being thrown the wrong way as you plummeted down the second floor.

TAG LIST CLOSED (unless you want to be removed, I completely understand lol) @annshit @simonsbluee @majolittlemixgurl18 @redosmo @mythicalreader @gracehaileym @leikarinn @its-bootz @ollwinchester @thehatredofshiprrick @curlyhairedbrock @thatbandchick39 @reddeserths @mitseuul @potenzel @tanchosanke @tooturntashbash @stephn-prkr @missingpuzzlepiece @sweetasphyxiation @goldiefox1 @imrisaluk @chimchimsugakookies @helena-way07 @danny-devitowo @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @richkookie​ @cherry-piee @artist-bby @bluewneptune @bratttyaphrodite @eccedxntesiaast @faithneko @thebootythrasher @bethpiercwhy​ @theeerealpunkin @heartbroken-writer @chisaikuki @realnicoleworld @candystoregirl @derpygiraffe43110 @rintomoj @phantomamethyst @helloitsmeamie203 @falcon-arrows @nvthvlyy @ellomellows @loraleiix @ladolcedea @lunaruss @princess00wifi @pennnyroyalty @cultofandom @easygoingtheatre @crpseclt @thatonefangirlbornonfriday @myherotrashbin @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @martinimom @gummybear123 @sparklingblacktea @lovelynervouskingdom @kingsuals @weeblyheaux @flightsandfantasy @chanelle-jackson @actual-spawn-of-satan @dixielumsden  @consumegods @mirandabarry @ikearandl @narwhalsaremagicalbroski @armycandy10 @chillininahottub-withaghost @mitchiesdungeon @yeolliedokai @alyofmusic @qatiee @dzzizzi @johnjacobjingleheimerschmidt @leilanixx @thefuckthesaurus @hughugh20 @thanossexual @moneybagmara @squintyangel @motheroffae @arossebyanyothername @vacaprincess @jinxedanxrchist @peterparkerspjsuit @chrysanthykios @wildflowerwhore @punkrainbows  @justalilsimpsometimes @bunniwritesx @sunnsettee @justxanotherxshipper @alilshit @dekahg @laugh-like-the-moon @sadness-babee @corpsie-bby @corpsesgirl @dead-boys-stuff @roses-and-grasses @sakusawife @byunniebaekhyunnie @lazy-little-me @phantomamethyst @letsloveimagines @polahorvat @sokkas-paintings @possiblyanxioushuman @a-dot-dev @aniyahsucks @choicesstan1 @error-loading-sorry @bi-andready-tocry @agustdpeach @punkrainbows @xibrokensunriseix @genjicats @forest-rav3n @devilishducky97 @alyss01 @anacrcarvalho @siriuslystupid @bakugonua @n0t-a-simp @notmewrongb1tch @c00ln3rdz @rolls-and-rolex

People I wasn’t able to tag (please check your settings lovelies):

@holosexualunicorn7000 @theroyalsaikou @timotheessoleil @devilish-ducky @000-22-000 @matcha-chaii @corbins-kinda-smart @milybones @theinbookss @mintchip17 @arghm8ty @ry-winter @namjoons-crabssss @sbfandom  @petitebitvh @corbins-kinda-smart @marmeladebreadwithhoney @solielfhuz6942 @xsarcasm101x @emmapotato88

#Corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #corpse #among us #youtube fanfiction #corpse bride #pewdiepie #jacksepticeye

[krispytidalwavesheep]

Hi! I saw that you were interested in requests for Zelda x f!Reader, among others, so I decided to send something and I hope you don’t mind :) An idea based on „We all shipped them together before they made it official because she kept scoffing that she did not like her and yet she always looked at her first whenever someone told a joke just to see if she was laughing too” post I saw some time ago. Basically a reader who is much younger, more optimistic and affectionate than Zelda. Zelda initially maintains her facade, of course, and constantly denies being interested in her. However, everyone, and I mean really everyone, can see what it is really like and they are both just made for each other, despite their apparent opposites. Thanks in advance, have a nice day!

I was/am really nervous about this, but thanks for the prompt! I hope you like it, I wrote this in the middle of the night, while being absolutely sleep deprived. Hope you enjoy! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zelda disliked you from the very beginning, even though she wasn't quite sure why. Maybe it was your happy-go-lucky attitude or the fact that you were so damn affectionate with everyone, that it almost made her sick. Well, everyone except herself, but she made sure that you understood that you wouldn't stand for such foolish actions. It was kind of pathetic, you hanging of Hilda as you did, and the way you always cuddled up to Ambrose and Sabrina. Who did you think you were, anyway? Nothing more but a nuisance, that's for sure. Zelda couldn't believe that she caved when Sabrina practically begged her to take you in.

Where exactly you came from was still shrouded in mystery. One day you just appeared in the woods, wounded and with amnesia. Of course, Sabrina had to take you in and now everyone was all over you and it annoyed Zelda to no ends. As soon as you got better and more comfortable around everyone, you were practically all over everyone, like a bitch in heat. You even tried to hug Zelda himself a few times, but she made sure that those notions wouldn't occur again. Still, you were so unbelievably nice and cheery, even to her. Disgusting.

You stared at Zelda, who seemed deep in thought and annoyed about something. You were pretty sure that that something was the fact that you were cuddled up to Hilda for some comfort since your night was plagued by nightmares again. Hilda took care of you when Brina brought you to the mortuary and you felt very much thankful for that. You didn't remember a lot of your life before you appeared out of nowhere and with no memories. All that you knew was that you were deadly afraid and hurting all over. Your body was covered in smaller wounds and half of your face was swollen, but the moment you laid your eyes on Sabrina you knew that you would be okay. She had a chaotic but albeit calming aura so you went with her willingly when she took you to her aunts.

At first, you met Hilda and her aura told you all you needed to know about her. She was a protector and she took you in without questioning, taking care of you as if you were one of her own. You trusted her immediately and especially after she helped you through your first nightmare. You met Ambrose next and even though he was cautious of you, he took to you rather fast. You were simply fascinated by everything he told you about magic and mysteries and he liked the audience. Brina and you became fast friends too, even though you didn't agree with everything she did. But she was sixteen and some teenage drama was expected. Especially after what she went through in the past months.

Brina was rather direct and you quite liked that about her. She was like a little sister to you, and she was the first one to muse that you weren't used to affection, which was why she gave it to you willingly. It was kind of cute to see your reactions to physical affection. She knew that it was unusual to trust someone so fast after everything that happened, but you were practically a cinnamon roll and no one ever sensed any weird vibes from you. Except for Zelda of course. But Sabrina had her theory about that...

When you and Zelda first met, the morning after Hilda took you in, you were captivated. You couldn't remember ever seeing a creature more beautiful than her. Her behavior and her aura were completely at odds around you and you wondered why. Especially since her familiar loved you to bits and pieces from the very beginning. Wherever you went, Vinegar Tom was sure to follow and you couldn't sit down without him jumping in your lap and curling up, demanding to be pet. Of course, that was just one more thing Zelda disliked about you. Everything was just affectionate with you, as you were with them, and Vinny's betrayal didn't make it any better.

But still, every time Ambrose told one of his stupid puns her gaze wandered over to you to see you laughing. Although it made her feel weird, she couldn't stop watching you. Just to make sure that you weren't up to something, of course. But everyone, really EVERYONE, had the audacity to imply that she, in fact, liked you very much. Which wasn't true at all. Not in a thousand years.

Her gaze was drawn to you again, as you made cooing noises at Vinny and played with him in front of the hearth, smiling affectionately.

“You're smiling, Zelds,” Hilda smirked and Zelda gave her the patented death glare.

“Whatever you are implying Hilda, I can assure you that it is all in your head,” Zelda huffed and hid behind her paper. Hilda had the audacity to giggle and Zelda gripped the paper just a bit tighter. She tried to ignore you for the rest of the morning, although she wasn't very successful.

“You want some more coffee?” you suddenly asked and leaned over her shoulder, placing your hand between her shoulder blades.

“Remove your hand or I'll cut it off of you,” Zelda just said haughtily, not liking the tingling feeling your hand evoked.

“Sorry, sorry, won't happen again,” you said and held your hands up in a nonthreatening gesture. Which somehow ticked Zelda off even more.

“Remove yourself from the kitchen right now,” she said for good measure and glared you down. Why the heavens did you get so under her skin with just existing? But what happened next shocked everyone deep down to their core. You started yelling.

“What is your fucking problem? Is the fact that I exist that bothersome to you? Why do you hate me so much, what did I ever do to you?! I go out of my way to stay out of your hair and you still so fucking everything you can to make me feel unwelcome! You agreed to me living here, so what. Is. Your. Problem?!” you yelled and to the mortification of everyone, including yourself, you started crying. You stormed out of the house and into the woods, frantically rubbing at your eyes, and before you realized what was happening, you were lost and the sun was disappearing behind the trees...

“Zelda Phiona Spellman! Was that necessary?!” Hilda yelled and glared at Zelda.

“I-I wasn't-”

“That was cruel, even for you Aunt Z,” Sabrina said and grabbed her coat.

“Oh no darling, you stay here. Zelda can go after her and set this right again!” Hilda growled and ripped the paper from Zelda's hands. She was so shocked that she complied and grabbed two coats before she went outside. It was early spring, but it still got cold at night. And Night it would soon be.

Zelda was shaken to her core. You were right, what was wrong with her? Why was she behaving like this, even though you never gave her any reason to? You have been nothing but nice to everyone, helping out where you could, and yet... Zelda felt not like herself around you and that made her angry. Irrationally so. But why? Why did she feel this way around you, the last time she felt like this was when she first met Mambo...oh. Oh no. It couldn't be... her problem wasn't that she disliked you... The problem was that she liked you a bit too much.

Her sub-consciousness must have been so scared of the fact, that it made her dislike you so much. She walked a bit faster after that realization, she had to find you and set things right with you. Apologize.

Zelda was almost frantically running through the forest, using a spell to trace your footprints, but you were faster than her and she cursed her heels. It was getting darker and harder to see, but Zelda knew the forest almost better than her own house. You didn't though, and Zelda found herself sick with worry. She was such a horrible person...

You were shivering in the cold evening, curling yourself into a ball to conserve body heat. You should have taken your coat with you, but you were so angry when you left the house. What exactly was Zelda's problem with you? What did you ever do to deserve such behavior?

You always noticed Zelda looking at you when she thought no one was looking. You even caught the odd smile, unconsciously thrown in your direction when you laughed or played with Vinegar Tom. You always thought that she was shy or something like that, that she liked you but wouldn't be caught dead admitting to it. You heard Hilda and Ambrose talking about how head over heels Zelda must be over you, with all that secret glances and small smiles and you hoped. Hoped, that when enough time passes and you proved that you could be trusted, Zelda would come to like you. Not necessarily as you liked her, but one could hope, after hearing Ambrose and Hilda talk about it, right?

But all your hopes were dashed earlier, when the situation escalated. You were probably no longer welcome at the Spellman house, but you didn't care. No one ever wanted you. You still hadn't got back all your memories, but enough to realize that you were never loved by anyone. Maybe you were too much. Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose would come to that realization too. So you should leave now, as long as it is still kind of your choice, but it was so cold, that you couldn't move a muscle.

“Maybe it is better this way...” you mumbled to yourself and closed your eyes.

“Don't you dare to go to sleep, not when I just found you!” an all familiar voice growled and you opened your eyes in shock, looking at Zelda Spellman herself. You just huffed and closed your eyes again. It was just so much easier.

To your utter shock, you felt warm arms wrap around you and the shock was enough for you to open your eyes again. Zelda lied down next to you, pulling you flush against her and somehow you managed to blush.

“We need to get you warmer so that I can bring you back to the house...” Zelda whispered and put the extra coat around both of you. 'Fuck it' you thought and buried your face in Zelda's shoulder. She smelled so good, and you were so tired.

“Don't fall asleep y/n” Zelda urged you and you huffed in surprise.

“You never called me by my name” you whisper and smile. It sounded good coming from her lips.

“Listen y/n I am... I am sorry for how I treated you. It wasn't fair and I regret deeply that it had to escalate like this before I saw reason.”

“'s okay,” you mumble and snuggled a little bit closer. Zelda's hand started rubbing your back gently and she couldn't get over the fact of how right it felt to hold you like this. She was a horrible person for treating you with such resentment when you deserved so much more.

“What I will tell you now, I will tell you just one time, so you better listen, okay?” Zelda mumbled, still rubbing your back.

“Aaaahh there is the Zelda I know and lo-like,” you smile, almost slipping.

“We'll see how deserving of your affections I am when I told you what I need you to tell,” Zelda said, ignoring what you just said for now, even though her heart started to beat faster.

“I am no easy woman. I lash out when I feel vulnerable and my temper is the worst. I treated you like vermin, and you didn't deserve this. I lash out when I feel vulnerable, and I feel that around you, a lot. Even though I didn't realize that until now. I am not as happy-go-lucky as you are, and I am not an affectionate person. At least out in the open. I was told that I am a stone-cold bitch on more than one occasion and I can't help but to agree. I have been hurt y/n, and it pains me to admit, I am afraid that I will get hurt again.”

“Hilda told me what happened. With Blackwood and Mambo Marie. Don't be mad at her, she just wanted to help,” you whisper and Zelda scoffed. You had to smile at that. You two lay like this for a while longer, until you felt how the numb feeling left your extremities.

“I think I'm better now,” you say reluctantly but Zelda didn't let you go just yet, asking for just a little while longer. You wiggled your arms free and wrapped them around Zelda too, slowly and carefully, not to scare her away. Zelda melted instantly into your arms and you smiled. Seems like you weren't the only one starved of affection. Stone cold bitch my ass, you thought and nuzzled a little closer.

“I'm gonna be brave now, okay? I like you very much Zelda, and somehow I think you like me too, don't think I didn't notice the way you look at me when you feel like no one is looking. The point I am trying to make is, that I wouldn't dream of hurting you, at least not willingly. I can be a massive idiot sometimes, but I want to get to know the real you. The one that hides behind all those walls of fear and hurt and I want to... just be there,” you mumble and to your utter shock you heard small sobs coming from Zelda.

“Hey, it's gonna be okay... Sorry if that was too much, I just told you what felt right!” you say and leaned back to look at Zelda. You were panicking. Did you say something wrong? But Zelda just took your face into her hands and bestowed the softest kiss to your forehead. It felt like an absolution.

“No one ever told me that they wanted to get to know the real me. I can't promise you that I will be able to show you my true self, but I will try,” she whispered and buried her face in your neck.

“That's good enough for me.” You said and cuddled closer... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Still taking prompts, and since schools are closed due to Covid I have a lot of time to write and imrpove!

#Zelda Spellman x Reader #Zelda x Reader #caos #Zelda Spellman

[dreamdaddydutch]

Hii! I might be late to ask for a request but if you still take them, could i request a fic of guarma Dutch with a f!reader where the reader is supposed to be on guard duty but Dutch catches her pleasuring herself, gets really mad and takes her very… roughly? Maybe some degrading and humiliating dirty talk too? You can totally ignore this ask if it’s not up your alley!! :)

Hey! So I did write this during November for NaNoWriMo and then hadn't got round to editing it and posting. I've only done a quick edit on this so it's far from perfect but I hope you enjoy all the same! I kinda went off specification a bit and Dutch doesn't get mad (I wrote this as the reader being someone who lives on the island, so probably the opposite of what you meant!) But it gets a little rough.

Warnings: 18+ due to smut.

Warnings: 18️+ due to smut

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Life in Guarma was mostly quiet and slow, sometimes you longed for some adventure…even a little danger. Those kinds of fantasies were the things that got you in trouble at home, the kinds of epics that had your mother telling you didn’t you know how lucky you were?

Yes you knew, you knew exactly how lucky you were and in comparison to others lives it was also a safe life. Simple but safe. Occasionally though you wanted something to change, for there to be a chance for you to head off with friends onto an adventure and have a story of your own to share with others and potential children when you grew old.

You kept these wishes secret as you wrote in your diary with little doodles of all the foliage and flowers around you, the birds that visited, reptiles and insects. Your older siblings told you to be thankful for what you had, there were others who lived in countries far colder, wetter or less exciting. Countries where all the birds were brown or beige, countries that didn’t have the magnificent sunsets or golden beaches.

So you knew exactly how lucky you were and how beautiful your life was but sometimes, just sometimes it would be nice to have a change and experience something a little ugly and rough round the edges for once.

You’d never imagined that your wish would come true or that it would come into fruition as quickly as it did.

There was a storm, one that broke so quickly, the kind of rain that made the sand turn to hazardous wasteland. Where ocean waves crashed high enough to catch some of the palm trees that were closest to the beach and caused coconuts to fall like rain drops, happy for the coconut crabs.

The following morning when you woke you tried to go back to sleep not wanting to face the day after such a lively and noisy night. But as you turned and went to cover your ears you heard something, unfamiliar voices…unfamiliar accents and a rush of people, commotion.

It was later that day that you met the stranger who stopped you in your tracks, his hand reaching over to the wall in front of you so you were unable to move past him. You should have screamed for help…should have but…

You looked up and met Dutch’s eye line, “Sir please…”

“What’s the hurry now darlin’ we only just met?” He spoke with such confidence that it knocked you for a moment and caught you off guard.

His voice was deep, and he spoke with a drawl, rough, rugged and you could smell whiskey on his breath. His hair was luscious but in need of a good brush. For one moment you wondered what it would be like to brush it, to take care of him, bathe him…Those lips so pink and plump curled into a wicked grin.

Oh this man would be the death of you, the way he was staring at you suggested he was simply to quite jump in and eat you up like a wolf eats his prey. And despite the imagery this created in your mind, despite your better judgement and how you knew this should make you feel.

Your lips quivered and you became aware of the heat building in the pit of your stomach as his eyes bored into you.

“Well?” He was waiting for an answer, and you couldn’t think of what to say apart from to say eat me.

You’d seen him a few times around the island along with another man who seemed younger and knew you should have told someone so they could be captured and taken as prisoners like the other man who was being held captive. But you couldn’t bring it in to tell on them, they were on an adventure of their own and you envied them for it and wouldn’t dare take away from them.

“What’s your name?” He asked as he picked up a cigar and lit it.

You stuttered for a moment, “Y/N,” you replied shyly.

“Well Y/N,” He inhaled the smoke from the cigar savoring the taste for a moment and then blew the smoke over you, “Have you ever been with a real man.”

This had you coughing and struggling to make eye contact with him, “I erm…”

Dutch chuckled as you tried to both straighten yourself out and stop your coughing, worrying that the noise you were making would highlight your presence to others and the last thing you wanted was this perfect moment being spoilt by anyone else.

“No.” You answered eventually, “But I’d like to,” you added boldly.

Dutch’s expression grew dark, the stubble on his chin was so sharp it looked like it could easily scratch your inner thighs in the most pleasing way.

“I bet you would…and what would I get in return?”

“I’ve never been with a real man, but then I’ve never been with a man in my life…that, that is your reward. That is what you will take from me.”

His expression seemed to grow even darker as he furrowed his eyebrows and leant down to kiss your cheeks. He let out a tiny moan as he pulled away, inhaled through his nose deeply to take in your scent.

“Now?” He asked.

Now, it would have to be now, should you doubt for just one moment there was a chance this wouldn’t happen at all. A chance that should you stall either he would change his mind, or your confidence would go or you’d be caught by someone. The longer you dragged this out the less likely it would be to happen.

This was what you wanted wasn’t it? Adventure, excitement, change…Something or something rugged and rough to show you another side of life, a different pie to taste and Dutch was going to be that man.

He took you by the hand suddenly making you jump and he pulled you away ready to have his way with you.

You pulled away, not here, not like this. You stood your ground as you pushed him back and shook your head, you’d read enough books and heard enough stories to know this wasn’t going to end well.

“Not now,” you said.

Dutch shrugged, “Your loss sweetheart.”

It was late in the evening you’d drawn the short straw with guard duty having to get up at midnight to go on watch for two hours. You found it was near impossible to sleep either before or after your time was up.

But you made a point of not complaining, you’d wanted more responsibility and to be more involved in work your grandmother referred to as ‘boys work’. So here you were at 1am in the dark and the cold next to the cage which had become home for the individual known as Javier.

You pitied him, it didn’t seem at all fair that he’d been taken prisoner but then they were responsible for the deaths of several members of your people and so…

But still when you looked down at him, they could have at least given him some warmer clothes for the cool nights or proper food. He stirred seemingly having a bad dream and so you knelt and tried to shush him, kindness and pity overwhelmed you so despite being on guard you went to find some water, scraps of food and a blanket. No one else was around to see you passing the items through the cage, the man was still asleep but at least when he woke he would find what you’d left for him.

Ten minutes or so passed and boredom really started to set in, you were surrounded by silence and with no one to talk to time seemed to go so slowly.

You thought back to the encounter you’d had earlier that day with the talk dark stranger, Dutch. You thought about his voice, how he commanded you, what his lips would feel against yours… As you thought about Dutch Van Der Linde, one of your hands ran over your breasts the other rubbed against your trousers to try and create some friction if at all possible. You clenched your thighs together and tried to fight the feeling that was burning in the pit of your stomach.

You could feel your cheeks getting warmer as you thought about kissing him, about him seeing you naked, him kissing your body from your lips all the way down to your….. ooooohhh.

It was impossible, you slunk into a corner by several rocks and bushes where no one could see you and you were still able to keep an eye on the prisoner just in case and then you allowed yourself to run away with your fantasies.

“Putting on a show for me darlin’?” You bit your lip as you imagined him saying these words to you.

And then your eyes shot open, you didn’t imagine him saying that…he was right there in front of you chuckling, bulge prominent in his pants as he rubbed himself.

“D-dutch…” you stammered as you removed your hand from your panties.

Dutch waved his finger, “Nah-uh, I didn’t tell you to stop now did I sweetheart.”

You gulped and sat frozen on the spot, you had only seconds to decide what to do. As you were on guard you should leap from where you were sat and cry out for the guards to arrive and rescue you. For all you knew this could be a trap to allow Dutch to free the prisoner, but then…considering how you felt about the situation and the conditions of the prisoner, would that really be the worst thing in the world.

“Well?” Dutch said, still rubbing his crotch, wearing that same wicked wolf grin that told you he’d like nothing more than to gobble you up.

You reached out, a sign to ask him to help you to your feet. You were happy to engage with him, to seek pleasure in his arms and provide it in return. But you had some dignity and were not going to exactly do what he said and continue to touch yourself for his amusement, no. If he wanted to watch you orgasm, he could use his fingers or better yet, his mouth.

Dutch cocked his head to the side, “I see.” He reached forward and took hold of your hand, pulling you to your feet far quicker and more roughly than you’d imagined he would.

Once stood you were only an inch from him, then he pulled you in closer so your breasts which felt heavy and swollen, nipple aching and needing to be touched, pinched…bitten. Dutch’s breath was hot on your face, his lips moved towards yours as he came in for the kill.

There was still time wasn’t there? Still time to scream out for help and run away from him but that wasn’t what you wanted. What you wanted was him, all of him to yourself and with no interruptions.

When he leaned in for a kiss you gasped, your hands found their way around his neck pulling him in closer, one of his knees pushed between your legs ruffling your skirts and putting pressure against your most sensitive spot.

“Dutch,” you moaned as he pulled away. He gave you only a second to breathe before his lips were on yours once again, you had feeling this was how it was going to be. All rough and needy with little relenting.

“Now tell me,” Dutch said, “Do you like it rough?”

The mew that escaped your lips was the answer Dutch needed. There would be no bed, no fluffy pillows or comfort. Dutch intended to bend you to his will, take you roughly and make a mess of you.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath.

“Cursing all ready? We barely gotten started,” Dutch chuckled.

You placed a hand on his chest, he’d undone several of the buttons on his chest, so his curly hairs poked out a little. One of your fingers wrapped round his dark curls, he was more man than you’d ever known and those dark eyes. As you looked up and stared into them you could have sworn he saw into your soul.

Dutch kissed your neck, sucking at your sweetest spot where he could feel your pulse. He trailed kisses down your collar bone and undid a few of the buttons on your blouse. You wouldn’t be able to strip naked due to the position you were both in, but he undid enough so he could slip a hand underneath and claim a full and rough handful of your breasts. He tweaked one of your nipples causing you to let out a small yelp. His other hand trailed over your other breast until he had them both in his grasp, caressing them, pinching them, rubbing and massaging as he bent down to kiss the soft cavern in between the two.

He slipped his tongue over one of your nipples and swirled a few times before biting down and sucking causing you to buck a little.

When Dutch’s head disappeared underneath your skirts you let out a small mew, your hands locked together in his thick hair.

“Oh darlin’” Dutch mumbled as you felt him push your panties aside.

He ate you greedily, lapping and sucking to the point where you thought you’d scream out. It was too much, you’d never felt over-stimulation like that to the point where you didn’t think you’d be able to reach orgasm. But judging by Dutch’s face when he looked back up at you that was exactly what he wanted.

When it was time to take you there was little warning, Dutch spun your round and pushed you against the tree trunk which you ended up clinging to for dear life when he started to fuck you.

He spread your legs a little and slid a finger between your wet folds, making sure you were nice and slick from this angle so he could easily enter you.

When he was satisfied with the preparation, he bit your earlobe and mumbled into your ear just how hard he was going to take you. You could feel him pressing against your butt cheeks and were sure you could hear the fast movement of skin against skin as he jerked himself off briefly, slapping your cheeks with the heavy head of his cock before he slipped it between your legs.

When Dutch entered you there were no pleasantries, he had done all the preparation he was going to do before he penetrated you.

Dutch was perhaps a little clumsier than you would have thought for a man of his experience and it took him prodding a few times before you felt his head push past your tightened muscles.

You let out a cry so loud you were surprised it didn’t wake the entire village. Dutch quickly put his hand over your mouth, and you found yourself fighting the urge to bite down into his flesh.

Dutch drove you forward pounding into you again and again with little care for your pleasure, a hand spanked your ass then moved round to take a handful of your breasts as he continued to moan.

He was if nothing else an animal, sweaty, grunting and with little rhythm to take note of. It was exactly the kind of sex you’d hoped it would be and exactly what you needed tonight.

There was little chance of reaching orgasm like this, but you hoped if you moaned good enough for him, let him know how much you were enjoying it and clamped your muscles tight around him that he might reward you when he had reached his own sickly and sticky climax.

So you moaned without abandon, rocking your hips to meet the thrusts of his own, moaning his name and cradled backwards into his arms.

It was when you opened your eyes again and looked to the side you saw something you hadn’t been expecting.

Dutch pulled out of you a moment before he came, it wasn’t the best method of contraception, but it was better than nothing. You felt his hot seed spill on your soft thighs, a moment’s exquisite pleasure revealed to hoping he would clean you up while also knowing it was unlikely he would show you such a kind curtesy.

You felt his weight press against your back as he collapsed, breathing heavy against you, his sweaty skin stuck to your own.

“Thank you darlin’ that was delightful,” he whispered as he stood up.

You remained where you were for a moment longer, catching your breath after the rough fucking you’d received. Although Dutch had reached climax, as you had not you were still on a high and desperate of relief. You didn’t feel any post orgasm shame or regret, you had yet to reach the sweetest of spots and so when you turned around you felt nothing but lust for the older man.

Now you were hungry, now you were the one with fire in your eyes who could easily eat Dutch for breakfast and momentarily he appeared intrigued, perhaps almost a little scared of you.

“Now,” you spoke lowly, “I hope after I’ve allowed you to service yourself using me, that you will return the favour.” You cocked your head to the side, “You will make me cum again or I will scream so loud that my brothers will wake up and you’ll be captured too.”

Oh yes, playing the other side felt delicious. Dutch’s expression darkened and his lips curled again into that wicked smile, oh he liked this side of you.

“Well then?” You asked, not giving him a chance to respond.

“I think madame has made it perfectly clear what she wants.”

This time it was Dutch’s fingers that brought you pleasure, dexterous and slow at first stroking exactly where he knew would make you moan. He maintained eye contact for the entire time, deep dark orbs witnessing your pleasure as you came apart. It didn’t take long for him to bring you to orgasm again, your legs clenched and knees buckled as you heard him chuckle.

A few minutes later, Dutch kissed you once more, slowly, and completely unlike how he’d treated you up until that moment. There was a tenderness in it that he hadn’t displayed before. One of his hands reached up and cupped your cheek, when you leant into it, it was warm and soft.

“Dutch,” you whispered as he pulled away.

“Gotta get goin’ now sweetheart and I gotta take him with me you know that.” Dutch said. He didn’t need to point to Javier, you knew who he was talking about immediately. You nodded, you would let your guard down quite literally for him.

These men they meant you no harm and would leave your shores causing no further damage. Dutch and the other men who were with him had given you the adventure you so long desired.

You took a step back and held your head high, Dutch reached into your trouser pocket, stroking your leg as he did so and pulled out the key to Javier’s cage.

“Thank you darlin,” he said quietly.

The two of you exchanged glances, you knew what would happen next. Dutch would make it appear like he was threatening you and took the key by force, he’d act so that your family and friends would never expect what had actually happened or blame you for Javier’s escape.

Dutch roughed up your clothes and pulled open your blouse once again, he ruffled his hands through your hair and grabbed one final passionate kiss before throwing you backwards to the ground. He opened the cage and waked his sleeping friends, as Javier opened his eyes and came to his senses he was quick to stand up. Dutch took out his gun and fired it into the air then started to shout.

It seemed ridiculous to you afterwards that he would do this, they would have gone undetected and easily could have slipped out quietly so why wouldn’t they just do that? But then you realised the reason he didn’t do that was for you. Had they have slipped out quietly without a word or sound to wake anyone then you would be complicit in what happened. Either people would assume that you let them go or that you’d fallen asleep while on duty. Neither of which would look good.

You watched as the two men disappeared into the shadows, Dutch turning and looking at you one last time with that animalistic glare he had. His black eyes would stay in your memory for the rest of your life and although you would never be with him again he remained as clear in your dreams as he was the day you slept with him.

You closed your eyes and pretended you’d been knocked out in case anyone came, but no one did so twenty minutes later you got up and started to scream for help putting on an even better display than Dutch had. Your brothers and others on the island were furious but not at you, they were angry the men had escaped but there was nothing to be done and the fact they had gone meant no further harm would come to your people.

That night you dreamt of him, the big wolf, the cowboy from the West, the man with hungry black eyes, rough stubble and thick curly hair. You dreamt of his kisses and broken promises as you drifted off to sleep.

#dutch van der linde #dutch x fem reader #requests #my writing #nsft

[villyanelleve]

how s3 eve was different from other seasons:

Hey guys I'm back with a new post! (after a loooong time :D) This post is kind of a long one..? so get your snacks and sit tight because we're gonna be talking about Eve a lot! 

We all know how Eve was a 'fan' of female assassins since season 1; and since episode 1 she started chasing after Villanelle and doing literally anything it takes to find her. And the choices she made through this time, like every choice, had it's own outcomes:

At first she lost her job because of chasing after V but that didn't stop her. 

Then she lost her best friend, Bill, who was killed BY VILLANELLE but that still didn't stop her. 

 And then, she started having problems in her relationship with her husband, Niko. who she really cared about and loved. but that didn't stop her either.

 All she cared about was finding Villanelle(her unhealthy obsession with Villanelle made her choose; *keep this in the back of your mind while we go forward, because we're getting to that later in this post*). Once she found Villanelle, she told her that she thinks about her all the time (duh), eve also told her she thinks about 'how she feels when she kills someone?' 

Well, you might think Villanelle never answered that question. Yes she didn't answer Eve. She showed her. Back in Rome, when Reymond was choking Villanelle to death, Villanelle made Eve kill him with an axe. Eve thought she didn't have the power to kill anyone. She thought she was only interested in investigating them. So she stormed out later and told Villanelle that she wants her to be scared. At that time, the only person who KNEW about Eve's monster was Villanelle.

'This is what you wanted' 

What did Eve want? Being scared? Or being a monster? Eve wanted none of those. Eve wanted to understand how Villanelle feels And the second Villanelle showed her how she feels, Eve just...left. It is not Eve's fault. She was confused and didn't know that side of her that was apparently always living in the shadows. Villanelle saw that side of her and woke it up. Villanelle in no way, didn't make a monster out of Eve. Eve just always...had it inside of her.

Later in season 3 we see Eve... Living her normal life and still doesn't know much about that dark side of her but she knows that it exists. When she tells Jamie 'well you don't know what it is like when you choose to destroy your own life' Eve thinks that choosing Villanelle was wrong and it destroyed her life. But what she still doesn't know is that all along, subconsciously, all she was looking for was someone to see her dark side and accept her once they see her dark side.

It's like Eve's monster was leading her to Villanelle's monster so it could grow and show itself a bit more. 

03x06 was exactly when Eve knew that she needs someone to understand her and she needs someone who knows about the monster inside her. We all know that someone wasn't Niko. So that's when she left Niko for good and started using the 12 as an excuse to get to Villanelle.

She knows the only person who can help her is Villanelle. She knows that Villanelle knows about her dark side and she needed help. When Dasha told Eve 'she's perfect killing machine, that's all she's there for, that's all she knows.' Eve responded with 'I don't think so' which proves that Eve always knew Villanelle is an actual human being with emotions and Eve is actually a little protective of her.

*Remember that thing I told you to keep in the back of your mind? Now bring it on : now Eve knows more than ever that how she feels about Villanelle isn't an obsession anymore. So the choices she makes from now on are not going to hurt her or the people around her like it did before. The unhealthy obsession made her destroy her life with poor choices. But now it's just the feeling of needing someone more than an obsession. She needed Villanelle. She needed her to help her know herself better. That's what they do. Villanelle helps Eve explore her personality and Eve helps Villanelle to destroy her monster. Just look how vulnerable Villanelle is when eve is around (ballroom scene) And look how she looks when rhian shows up: 

It's like she transforms into a completely different person. One second she's a soft and vulnerable cinnamon roll (oksana) and the other second she's this badass heartless assassin.

 And just look how easily Eve admits to Villanelle that she killed Dasha. She admitted that she killed Dasha with her FOOT. (istg Eve uses the most iconic ways to kill people..just like V) 

That's because they know that they're not going to be judged. They know each other better than anyone and they can be themselves when they're alone.

I’ve killed so many people, eve.

Look at Villanelle's smile when she hears Eve’s answer. it's like she's....relieved. She was trying to tell eve that she could do things that no one expects her to do...she is trying to tell eve that being with her is dangerous. But what Eve just told villanelle meant that she doesn't care about villanelle, she's is here for oksana. Villanelle's 'true' character. Eve believes that oksana is more than a killing machine and she can choose to change. Eve believes that Change is possible. Eve was the only one who didn’t reject V when saw her true character.

 Aaand here we are. The bridge scene. 

—This scene shows how Villanelle knew about Eve's dark side from the beginning and she wanted to show her that somehow. It shows that how different Eve is to Villanelle because of her personality, 

— in this scene what they both have in common is that they don't know what exactly 'stopping' it means. Villanelle thinks Eve walking away from her is the best way to stop it. That’s why she looks so broken the moment she hears Eve but covers it up with “so no more tea dances?”... I mean look at her face..

But Eve thinks the exact opposite if you ask me. *remember that part where I talked about how this unhealthy obsession turned into a longing for V? yup.* Annaad in the last scene where they both turn back... apart from what Villanelle did (letting someone she cares about go) was completely different from her character arc in s2 and s1 and just shows that she understands love more than anyone, Eve turning back wasn't surprising at all. We been knew how she needs Villanelle so she could explore her personality and then fix it. She couldn't do this without Villanelle. also, she f**king loves her so...XD 

 And about Villanelle, I think she actually always wanted to look back. I mean ffs she's so in love with Eve because she's the only one who accepts her for her true character. She can open up to Eve without being afraid of being judged. But she's been rejected before and that has made her a little scared of looking back and seeing that Eve is still walking away. The fact that Eve already walked away from her once made Villanelle a bit scared. So that's why she paused before looking back. But when she looked back, she saw her future. The future where she can change and be the person she actually is and helping eve to defeat her own monster. That's true love story. 

Hope you guys enjoyed reading my point of view of this whole thing. I’m sorry if i made any mistakes... I can’t want for season 4!!!! 

#killing eve #killing eve spoilers #ke spoilers #s3 #villanelle #eve #eve polastri #villaneve #villanelle x eve #eve x villanelle #gay #lgbtq #lesbians #lovers #bbc america #killingeveedit #fandom thoughts #ke fandom #ke #ke s3 #killing eve s3 #killing eve season 3 #villanelleedit #pwb #analysis #jodie comer #sandra oh #spoilers #killing eve analysis #ke analysis

[lilmissbacon]

Frozen 3 concept

I'mma start off with explaining that I'm not the biggest fan of Frozen and I'm definitely not a fan of Elsa's character in general.

But as much as I love the songs and outfits of the second movie, the inconsistencies and how it never explains how sh🤬 works in the world with magic and such are just infuriating. As well as why the spirit that connects them controls ice which is just a variation of water. And how the Frozen franchise just loves to make Elsa more special within every installment.

I am so very tired of it. So I came up with a way that it could all be fixed and make sense if they make a third movie.

Also to note that Anna and Elsa are supposed to be two halves of the fifth spirit but that's VERY briefly touched in movie (quote: well actually a bridge has two sides and mother had two daughters) and Disney themselves take Elsa as the fifth spirit alone so that's stupid.

Why Elsa specifically controls ice

We all know how we're frustrated with the fact that Elsa is supposed to connect all the elements when she only controls ice.

But let's think about it from another prospective. The first movie is based about the seasons. It's a seasonal theme rather than an elemental theme like in its sequel. So why not bring that back?

The enchanted forest cannot be the ONLY place that has mystical spirits. What if there were three other forests with their own fifth spirits and each fifth spirit represented a season?

And each seasonal spirit's magic is a mix of two elements.

Elsa/Winter: Ice = water + air

Spring: Plants = water + earth

Summer: Lava = earth + fire

Fall: Lightning/Storms = air + fire

This still fits in with the fact that the fifth spirit can play back moments in time as well. Each spirit has their own Ahtohallan. Elsa's is made of ice because it's just frozen water and the water is was plays back those moments in time.

Spring's would be like an island made of plants, fungi and marsh. Plants have water running within them so they can take the form of moments in time like Elsa's ice statues.

Summer's would be a volcano with a river flowing through it. Lava and water can mix to create lava rocks. When doing so the memories within that water would be imbedded into the rocks they form and therefore be able to play moments in time as rock statues.

Autumn's would basically be a fog bank with almost ghostly figures making up the memories since fog is a mist, aka: water. Kinda like the scene where Elsa fights the wind spirit and their powers mix for a moment.

Where the others come from

For this, I decided to look around other lands within that side of the world that has legends of spirits. I decided upon:

Spring = Scotland

Summer = Arabia

Fall/Autumn = Japan

I chose for Arabia to be summer, of course , because it's a desert country so it very hot. Japan is autumn because it's culture and everything just always reminded be of the beauty of fall. And Scotland is spring because that's what was left and when I think of Scotland, I think of it's green forests and plants.

Nothing too deep.

Personalities

You think I'd make Summer hotheaded and spring, giddy and bouncy, right?

No, because you see, as I've stated in another post of mine; Why Frozen Doesn't Work In The Big Four, I explained how Elsa's personality reconciles more with summer. The opposite season of her own.

Elsa is kinda quiet, gentle, diplomatic, practical, worries silently and is angelically innocent (even though she doesn't deserve to be).

All are traits relating to summer. So if her personality is opposed to her season, then it'd be the same for the other fifth spirits.

Spring would be a leader, confident, energetic, true to a cause, dependable, easily irritated and stubborn.

Summer would be reserved, well mannered, a good listener, natural poise and pessimistic.

And autumn would be energetic, tender-hearted, optimistic, friendly and overly talkative.

How the spirits work

I fully believe that the spirits have no physical form but rather inhabit certain things. Basically possession but the spirits don't have control over themselves once they choose a vessel and depending on the solidarity of what their element is, determines what kind of vessel they need.

The wind spirit is said to be a playful spirit and would want to make its own choices. Being an element you can't hold, it doesn't really need a host.

Water is liquid and needs something to be it's host but doesn't necessarily need something alive. Therefore it can inhabit a small animal or it inhabits its own element, hence a water horse.

Fire isn't a solid or liquid but it's not necessarily a gas either. Fire always needs to burn on something in order to burn. Therefore it cannot just make out it's own body like water but it doesn't need a large vessel. Hence, a little salamander.

Earth is the most solid of them all so it would need multiple hosts in order to sustain itself. That's why there are multiple earth giants and not just one like the other spirits.

I believe the spirits don't have control over their actions once they choose a host because all the spirits (besides wind) seem to not know what's even going on most of the time. And that would explain why the spirits didn't get rid of the dam themselves, because their vessels didn't know that was the problem.

I also believe that they need a host to begin with because they are actually susceptible to death. As it has been confirmed that Elsa is NOT immortal and there wouldn't have been a legend of a fifth spirit if people hadn't seen one before.

It would also explain how the spirits drove the citizens out of Arendelle without physically being there; they managed to leave their hosts for a time in order to do so. Along with what the light that Elsa was following at Ahtohallan, was. The fifth spirit was able to sustain itself by staying in its birth place and activated the memory of Elsa's mom singing, to bring Elsa there and when Elsa's dress transforms is when the spirit possesses her.

Why does the fifth spirit need to be human? Because humans are more durable. The fifth spirit doesn't control anything completely solid like rock so it doesn't need multiple vessels but it also controls more than a single element, therefore is too much to figure out/control for just any animal.

That's why it chose a very young child to give it's powers to rather than the person who actually did the deed of saving their enemy. It needs to be someone who will have the time to learn and control their powers by adulthood.

(Despite Elsa not truly being worthy and being a horrible sister, she was already chosen at birth and she at least gets the job done. At everyone else's expense but still.)

Plot

How would the seasonal spirits meet? Why would they leave their homes for this? What brings them together?

The four sided snowflake represents the elements connected to the winter spirit. Every season would have their own version of this. But there are also four seasons just like there are four elements.

So, could there be a fifth spirit for the fifth spirits? A fifth spirit to connect the seasons and if so, what is it? What's their power?

I believe, much like the winter spirit called to Elsa, the ultimate fifth spirit will call all the seasonal spirit's to come together at a single location. Anna would come with Elsa as well, of course, and during their journey, they'd all eventually meet each other along the way.

Eventually Anna would start to feel a little neglected when Elsa keeps talking to / about the other people who also have magic. Anna doesn't wish for magic, but she wishes for Elsa to finally see herself and Anna as equals (because Elsa clearly wouldn't after finding others like herself, let's be real). So Anna goes off to have her own sort of "Show Yourself" moment and is the one to find the location they've been looking for which is where she becomes their fifth spirit; the Aurora Borealis.

It was in one of the original scripts for the first movie that Anna was gonna have the power to control the Aurora Borealis, but then the creators decided that took away from Elsa's agency for self isolation due to her powers.

It's true that Anna having been able to accomplish what she did without powers is one of her best attributes but Anna becoming the light spirit is really the only way she's gonna get any appreciation within the fan base or the disney community. Plus Anna's done all the work to begin with so she deserves it.

With the other spirits being seasonal & elemental, it would only make sense for the one to connect them all would be light.

But all the spirits also have an opposite to balance them out:

Fire | Water

Earth | Air

Winter | Summer

Spring | Autumn

So maybe the reason they were all being called there is because Light's opposite is Darkness and it's plotting to take them all out. They are in charge of keeping balance and darkness wants to create chaos. But you also need darkness for balance, so maybe someone else will be with them through the journey and become the vessel for darkness in order to control it. Because, again, spirits have no control once they have a host.

This could be a possible redemption arc for Hans. We could learn about what he's been through and what truly drove him to be the bad guy because from what we know of his brothers, they were really bad. I think he just really lost a nerve due to unintentional (or intentional) abuse and was trying to prove to his family that he was better than they believed. People who suffer from abuse can be irrational like that.

I think it would be a phenomenal thing for him to overcome his inner darkness while also taking control of the literal spirit of darkness.

Metaphorical-wise it's beautiful.

Art/Designs

I edited the other seasons + Anna off of concept art for Elsa's white dress while Hans is kinda my own creation but I still used his concept art for a base. Everything after that are purely original.

Location they are led to ⬇️

Let me know what you all think 👍

#frozen #frozen 2 #disney #fifth spirit #concept #elsa #anna #frozen 3

[devildomdoofus]

Winter Storm:Part 2

Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

WARNINGS:

‼️contains spoilers from chp. 16‼️

[[angst, cursing, anxiety, fear/terror, depression, near death experiences, hypothermia, dehydration, fainting, severe pain, cliffhangers, unhealthy coping mechanisms, suggestive themes, if I missed any - please let me know!!]]

Author’s Note:

As you already know, I will forever apologize for my sluggishness but I hope that when I do get to posting, it is worth the wait 😣 I’m particularly proud of these pieces, especially Beel’s and Belphegor’s... the angst was fun to write and helped me let off some steam! Forgive me, but Asmo is kind of hard to write for as we’re practically polar opposites 😭 OH!! Since this is the final piece to my “Winter Storm” puzzle, I’ll be needing more requests so if you’ve got something on your mind that you wish to bring to life, send ‘em my way and I’ll do my best to help make it come true!! I’d love to hear what you lovely individuals have rattling around in your brains✨. As always, thank you kindly for your patience, your generosity and support, and thank you very much for hyping me up to write and continue writing. You’ve helped me in more ways than I can count. Stay ruling them all, MCs ❤️

- DevildomDoofus

Prologue/Part 1:

Asmodeus:

It was difficult letting you go on an adventure without him, especially since you were taking the camera with you and he was all dolled up to the nines, looking way too good to not be in the pictures you were going to take... but then you offered him a reward he simply couldn’t refuse, IF he were to be patient. You took him by the hand, gazed into his beautiful eyes, and whispered low enough that he had to lean in close to hear your proposition. “Wait for me here and when I get back, we can dip into the hot tub and sip our favorite drinks until we’re pruny.” He practically kicked you out of the door so that you could hurry back and fulfill your promise.

In the time that you were gone, he busied himself with intricately arranging yours and his belongings until he felt you’d be proud with his eye for organization. By then, you hadn’t returned in the time he felt you‘d said you’d be back but... if he went out looking for you now, he might not get to be warm and bubbly with you later on and damn it, he was going to get that time with you. Once again, he tried to find something to keep his mind off of saying ‘the devildom with it!’ and going after you anyway. He flipped through magazines, scrolled on his D.D.D., sang and danced to his favorite human songs on the radio, but eventually, all he could think about was you. Wondering if you were ok, if you were having fun without him, what kind of pictures you might be taking to show him later... “Ok, that’s it. MC, sweetie, you’ll just have to forgive me.” He donned his comfiest and cutest winter trend setter, lathered the remaining exposed skin in protective lotions and creams because he simply CANNOT have his skin cracking or breaking, and stepped out the door to come find you- “Unholy shit...” The sky had darkened and the wind had picked up immensely. This is not good. For him, his skin, and much less you. He had to find you and fast. He spotted markings on the trees and the piles of stones nearby and he tilted his head. He knelt down to pick up a stone and eyed it a moment before he brought it to his nose for a quick sniff. It smelled of the lotion he had given you on one of your birthdays and for a brief moment, his heart flutters. You wore it constantly because it reminded you of Asmo and whenever you were feeling down, you’d take a whiff of yourself to feel closer to him and whatever was bothering you would instantly vanish. You told him this and he never forgot it nor did he ever let you hear the end of how happy it made him. Emotional in nature, Asmodeus started to tear up a bit as his fear of losing you increased. If he couldn’t find you soon, you’d surely be in danger if you weren’t already. He continued after you like a bloodhound, following you primarily by scent as his vision was becoming obscured by the blinding snow and ice. In addition, he would call out your name, hoping that by some unholy miracle, you’d hear his voice and come trudging through the snow into his arms. Today, he wasn’t so lucky.

Before long, your trail of markings and scent waned into nothingness and he came to a halt. “No, no, no, noooo!!” He turned in circles, sniffing until it hurt to do so, desperately trying to pick up your scent again but it never came. “Damn it!!” he cried as he dropped to his knees, a bit exhausted and heavily defeated. He couldn’t catch the tears before they trickled from his eyes so instead, he held his face in his hands and let them go. How could he have let this happen? The only one he could love more than he loved himself was probably stuck out here alone, terrified, and most likely hanging on for dear life but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it because he couldn’t find you. He was so overcome by his feelings of weakness and hopelessness that he almost missed the echo of your voice crying out through the storm. Almost.

He perked up in an instant, stumbling back to his feet before chasing the sound and calling after you. “MC?! Where are you, love?!” Although there was no reply, he continued in the same direction with your scent having picked up, until he came across the makeshift shelter you held up in. As he crawled in and got closer to you, he came to a complete stop before his jaw dropped to the floor and heart concaved within his chest. You were lying there like-... like you had been lying once before like a broken porcelain doll, abandoned and forgotten by it’s owner. He covers his mouth with his hand and began to cry once more, only this time in much more pain. Crawling over to you, he takes one of your hands in his and brings it to his quivering lips, gingerly kissing your hand before taking the rest of you into his embrace. “Oh MC... My sweet, sweet MC,” he whispers through his tears, “I’m so sorry.” The lump in his throat strangles the words that try to come out. “So very sorry.” He clutches you tighter, leaning his head against yours and rocking you in his embrace, telling himself this is a horrible dream. He never imagined days would come when someone else’s wellbeing came before his and yet the moment you had made a pact with him, he was immediately catching himself thinking of you before he ever came close to thinking of himself. It was incredibly bizarre... and he only wanted more. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that if fewer thoughts of himself meant more thoughts of you, he’d gladly take himself off the pedestal and place you on top instead. Unfortunately, this newfound wondrous feeling wouldn’t last long as the possibility of losing his source of selflessness and humility was rapidly increasing.

“As..moo...” His crying stops and he jerks up, looking down at you. For a brief second, he thought he heard you speak but seeing as you looked the exact same, he assumed he was starting to hear things. Until you said it again. “A..sm..oooo.” Any human would have thought that their ‘cheese had slid off the cracker’ because now, they’re hearing voices from beyond the grave, but Asmodeus knew better. He saw the curving of the delicate lips that your frozen face had allowed and he gasped. “MC!!” He tugs you ever so closer and snug to him that your spine could’ve snapped if he hadn’t of pulled away seconds later to litter your profile with swift and gentle kisses. When he’s done showering you in his smooches of relief, he stands up with you cradled to his chest and flies to back to the cabin to try and bring you back to the MC who once inspired him to be more by thinking of himself less. Besides, you owed him a dip in the hot tub and he wasn’t about to let some horrible blizzard take that away.

Beelzebub:

When you told this man that you wanted to go on a little scavenger hunt to check out the area, he thought you meant you were going to go see what kind of food joints were nearby and he was a little heartbroken at first, thinking you were doing such a thing alone. Without him. The avatar of Gluttony. But you assured him that you two would go together to do that later, and then buy as many groceries, snacks, and take-outs as he pleases as soon as you got back from a quick sight seeing. You also mentioned that you might find some berry bushes on your outing and you would bring some of those berries back for him to try. His cheeks dimpled and he gave you that smile that made your heart do cartwheels in your chest. For his cooperation, you gave him the location of the secret but not so secret because he could smell them anyway stash of your packs of fruit snacks. Ever since the pact, he has never been offended that you had ‘secret’ stashes because he understood all too well why you had to hide them away. His brothers did the same. But even still, you would always, and I mean always, share parts of your food with him so all he really had to do was wait for you to get hungry and surprisingly enough, it was almost as often as he would. You two were a match made in the celestial realm that could eat take the world by storm and he could never really put into words how much that connection that the of you two shared meant to him other than sharing HIS food with YOU.

Thinking of all of this food inevitably made him hungry so he went to your luggage, fumbled around a bit until he found them, and then gobbled down the full packs of fruit snacks, one by one, to hold him over until you came back. He then shuffled over to the couch to plop himself down and wait for your return. Before long, he was shifting and fidgeting in his seat as the cabin started to creak in the uncomfortable silence. He tried watching tv, doing little exercises, and eating more snacks but nothing was helping ease the uneasy feelings he was having.

There were many times in his life where the world around him seemed uncomfortably quiet. Yes, he was technically used to bouts of quietness with Belphegor, the Avatar of Sloth himself, being his twin brother and roomie. But typically, Belphegor was at least in the vicinity; either quietly snoring across the room, resting himself against Beel in one way or another, or could be called on and they could reach each other in a matter of seconds. They were never too far apart nor were any of his other brothers for that matter, if Beel needed a distraction. But as life can be a bit unforgiving, Beel was left alone, on occasions, for long periods of time with nothing but his increasingly loud thoughts to keep him company. And mind numbingly loud they were. It would range between his memories from The Great War of battling angels he once called friends, his overwhelming guilt of not being able to save Lilith, a bit of leftover anger with Lucifer for locking his brother away and then lying to him about it, guilty anger over Belphegor’s attempt to kill you, but most of all... he’s bent to the point of breaking over the fact that he knows he has a problem with his sin, more so than his brothers, and yet celestial realm knows there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it and that is what hurts most of all. And when thoughts like these come knocking at- no- BEATING DOWN his door, he either works his body until he crashes from fatigue, goes on binges for months to drown them out, bottles it all up until it terrorizes him in his dreams, or all of the above. That is, until you came along. Whenever you’re around, his mind, body, and soul seem at peace, and no more does he feel that he is starving, or broken and in need of fixing, or so far beyond forgiveness for what he’s done and who he has become that no one should ever be around him again for he’d only hurt them in the end, unable to stop himself. With you around, the quiet nor his own mind are his enemies but rather, potential friends. Indeed, he still has his moments where the ‘darker’ silence still pays him visits but they have become fewer and farther in between. And it’s all because of you.

That being said, this is one of those ‘darker’ silence visits and before it can get any sort of footing in his mind, he shoots up from the couch and heads out of the door to come looking for you.

He noticed little digits in the trees and piles of stones lining up with a trail going in a particular direction. If he remembers correctly, Satan had once mentioned that humans used these types of techniques as a survival tool in order to find their way back or leave a trail to be found if need be. Wow, his human is a smart cookie- “Damn it.” Shouldn’t have thought that. His stomach growled as if it was summoned and he pats his belly in an effort to console it. “I know, I know. I’m sorry buddy. We’ll find MC soon and then we can go eat with them.” It practically purred in response.

Minutes passed of following your trail and the sky began to darken with the wind picking up, followed by the walls of snow and ice. This was unsettling as he knew that humans couldn’t really survive out in weather like this for long, no matter how smart or capable they were. It was even more unsettling that your markings had disappeared and you were nowhere in sight.

“MC!!” he calls after you but you don’t respond. He continues, over and over, calling after you yet only the wind calls back. There was only one solution left and it was one he didn’t particularly like. He could use his ability as the Avatar of Gluttony to enhance his senses and sniff you out but... the problem was in the fact that he only ever used it when he was particularly starving, so inherently, whenever he zeroed in on something, he was going to eat it when he found it. This didn’t bode well for you considering you, in particular, had an exceptionally appetizing scent and it was extremely difficult to ignore, even with a full belly on the rare occasions that it is and out of his demon form. But because he was out of options and time was running out on the possibility of finding you alive, he had no other choice than to shift into his demon form and zero in on your scent. By Lord Diavolo, it was immaculate. The oh so sweet aroma was speaking sweet nothings to his stomach and the growl it emitted could shake the earth, if not hidden away under flesh and bone. He could make out a ghostly outline of your old footprints, beneath layers of snow, leading in one particular direction. He followed blindly, his hunger now at the wheel and in full on stalking mode as an apex predator on the prowl. It lead him in a few circles before ending up at the miniature shelter and by now, your scent was overwhelmingly delectable to his senses. He ducked low and could make out your silhouette in the darkness. Inching towards you, his nails turned to darkened claws and his teeth bared themselves with an impending goal to devour you whole until there was no trace of you but the outline of the snow of where you once laid- “NO!!”

Beelzebub stripped his sin from the reigns of his mind and he dropped to his knees beside you before it could begin it’s feast. He shook his head, trying to completely erase the thoughts of consuming your body and the immensely alluring smell that lead him to you in the first place. He then looked back to you and your drooping, solidified form and couldn’t hold back the tears that started to trickle down his face. “M-MC...?” Your heart would’ve shattered, just as his did in that moment, upon hearing the pain in his voice. “MC, no... please don’t do this.” He takes your head in his hands and turns your vacant, expressionless face towards him to try and get you to wake up. His thumbs trace circles over your cheeks and he’s calling your name but with no reply. The hands that are usually ever so steady and gentle with you, the hands that you’ve come to love with your whole heart, now shake in bits of agony as he pleads with his entire existence for you to wake up and come back to him. You continue to lay there, upon the cold, hard stone with your empty eyes looking right through Beelz’s and he can’t take it anymore. He lifts you into his arms and races back to the cabin with your limbs dangling towards the snow. Once there, he gingerly places you on the couch and flies around the cabin, grabbing the things he needs to get you warm and bring you back to him. He strips you of your wet clothes and dresses you anew in dry pairs. He throws a plethora of blankets over your body, covers your hands with fuzzy mittens and your feet in multiple pairs of fuzzy socks, then wraps a scarf around your neck and adjusts it so that it comes up to just beneath the opening of your nose. Lastly, he tosses firewood into the fireplace and sets them ablaze before settling onto the couch, placing you between his legs and wrapping his large arms around your frame, snuggling his face into the crook of the scarf around your neck. He inhales deeply, taking the sweet scent of you into his lungs before exhaling and letting his tears fall again. His grip on you tightens as he’s torturing himself for allowing this to happen to you a second time, the one and only person who could ever really take all of the darkness in his life into the palm of their hands and toss it to the four corners of the earth like it never existed. Like it never even knew his name in the first place. Now it was his turn to take away your pain, your darkness, your mistakes and it terrified him because as much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t feel as if he could, no matter how strong he was or tried to be. The only thing he was certain of was that he had try his damndest to bring you back but then wait for fate to decide the rest.

Belphegor:

To be honest, Belphegor didn’t exactly want to come up to the human world in the first place, for a couple of reasons.

(1): He still has a teeny tiny ginormous grudge against humans, even if he knows Lilith became one and you were one as well. That didn’t mean that the rest of them were not still thorns in his side and most likely will remain so until the end of time. Especially Solomon. I mean really, what is that sorcerer up to half of the time?

(2): There isn’t much he prefers to be doing more so other than sleeping. He’s the Avatar of Sloth, Mr. Sandman himself. It came with the ‘job description.’ So he would just be going from sleeping down in the devildom, his palace of comfort, to sleeping up in that Father awful human world, the bane of his existence. “What a joy that would be,” he thought to himself while rolling his eyes as you were in the midst of going over all of the reasons he should come with you on this trip.

And finally (3): As much as he refuses to admit it, deep down in his heart of hearts, he often times feels guilty for being so low energy while you attempt to do things with him and share your life with him. He’s angry with himself for not being able to do much about it given that it is his sin, other than try his best to spend as much of his waking hours with you as he can for as long as you live, rather than sleeping both of them away. Which is why he inevitably caved and agreed to come with you on the trip. Besides, maybe the human world isn’t so bad when he’s with his favorite one? And maybe the chill from the snowy mountains could be his obvious excuse for snuggling ever so close to you under the piles of blankets and pillows. A smug little smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth while he imagines it, eyeing your frame slowly, up and down, before nodding at whatever you had just said... sorry, MC. He wasn’t really listening at the time.

That is how the two of you ended up waving goodbye as you stepped out of the cabin to go sight seeing for a bit and he stayed behind, assuring you he would try his best to stay awake and unpack. We both know how that went

He awoke to the sound of an alarm you had secretly set on his D.D.D. knowing all too well that his promise was empty and growled at the ringing in his ear, nevermind that it was as soft as a loving mother’s lullaby. He jerks up, fumbles his hands in and around the mountain of blankets in search of his device, until he feels the vibrations of it and snatches it from its snug hiding place between his rump and the cushions. The light from it was blinding, having him squint into a frown as he swipes away the alarm. He grumbles, scratching his head through the tuffs of chaos before lifting his intertwined fingers towards the ceiling and letting out a groan, stretching his limbs. “MC?” he calls with his eyes still closed in a grumpy squint. Assuming you simply didn’t hear him, he calls for you again, a little louder, and with no reply for the second time, his eyes finally open and he looks around the empty cabin. He wiggles out of the blankets and walks around, giving the entire cabin a quick once-over, looking for his little, seemingly hard-of-hearing human. That’s odd. You weren’t home and it was-...? He checks his D.D.D. It was about the time you said you would be back. He glances out of a nearby window and frowns. It was swiftly darkening outside and not because of the sun laying down to rest, but due to a vicious storm beginning it’s onslaught. It ticked him off that you hadn’t returned since he felt that you knew better than to leave him waiting for you and it ticked him off a little bit more that now, there was a storm brewing and he had to go out in the cold to drag you back himself before you got yourself killed. Being here was pointless without you and staying awake was quite difficult; Therefore, if you weren’t going to be there with him when he happened to be ‘with the land of the living,’ he would simply go back to sleep... angrily for that matter considering he put time and effort into staying awake for you. He never did that for anyone, not even Beel. So you had better have a good reason for still being out in the cold, soon to be cold storm, or there was going to be devildom to pay. But instead of laying back down to return to his rudely interrupted slumber, as much as he wanted to do so out of spite, he grabbed a coat that was thicker than the one he typically wore and stepped out to come looking for you and then eventually punish you for your transgressions. He sighed as he pulled the hood over his head in an effort to reduce the blasts of ice filled wind and shambled through the rising snow, looking high and low for any traces of you. That’s when he noticed the carvings in the trees and stone piles shaped in an odd fashion. “Ah... not so naive after all,” he mutters to himself and another one of his signature smirks makes its way to his face, but that soon fades as the wind picks up and his line of sight shrinks further and further. This storm was becoming a bit too strong, even in the eyes of a demon such as himself, and that thought alone gave him chills that no blizzard could muster for he knew that this kind of storm was not something humans typically survive in, especially alone. “MC, I swear on Diavolo’s very demon soul that if you’re out here goofing off, you’ll regret the day you came back from my attempt to kill you.” The threat was empty and uttered without any true intention of being carried out. He was simply masking his fear with anger because he felt that his fear would weaken him and you didn’t need someone who was weak, you needed a strong and capable Belphegor to find you and bring you back home, safe and sound... being that you’re still alive.

He followed your trail until it came to a complete stop and with you nowhere in sight, he leaned against a nearby tree, one of the last ones you had marked, and traced his finger along the outline of the markings in the bark. “MC!!” He shouts for you but you don’t respond. He shouts your name over and over but the wind simply swallows them whole. Those fingers he once had on the bark, curled and tightened into a fist and he inhaled deeply just as he was rearing back before delivering an earth shaking blow to the center of the tree, leaving a gaping hole in its wake before the giant finally slunk to one side, toppled to the ground, and sent clumps of snow up in the air. His body shook no longer from the cold, but from the fear and the rage and the guilt overtaking him. He was terrified that he was losing you. Angry over the fact that no matter how hard he was trying, he couldn’t find you, much less save you. And celestial realm only knows how immensely guilty he felt for being the cause of your possible death, both in the past and now. He was shifting in and out of his demon form, his mind and sin arguing over who gets to take the reigns. Regrettably, his sin won without too much of a struggle and he bursts into his demon form onto his hands and knees, and began to scream, balling his eyes right out of his skull. “Please, MC!! For fuck’s sake, I can’t do this alone!! I need you, damn it!! I need you so fucking much!!” The world itself seemed to darken even further as Belphegor poured his breaking heart right out of the newly vacant pit in his chest. Nothing in all of the three realms could pull him from his decent into madness...

...until the sound of your voice makes it way to his ears, past the baying wind and cries of agony. Time itself seemed to stand still and the world around him grew deathly silent as he listened for your voice. He hears it echo from not too far off from where he kneeled. In the time it takes lightning to reach the earth, he has wiped his tears clean off and is now on his feet and bolting in the direction of your voice. That oh so delightful sound of your voice.

He reaches the knockoff shelter that you hid away in and hunches down, making his way to you. As soon as he reaches you, he slows to a stop and places his trembling fingers against your neck, testing for a pulse. It’s dangerously low but his heart lightly flutters because now he knows there’s a chance that you could make it out alive... if he hurries. Refusing to give up, he takes you in his arms and bolts back to the cabin to try and warm you up. If he can save you, he will make the celestial realm seem pale in comparison to the world he will provide for you. If not... Father have mercy on them all.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #otome #mine #my posts #devildomdoofus #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #mc

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

TS: Farak (Difference) [1/3]

An air of melancholy seeped into the air of the Raizada mansion. In a few minutes their pillar of joy, Anjali, had crumbled into a sobbing mess. Her marriage, belief, love and trust had been tested.

And joy’s namesake, Khushi, wandered in the halls in the lonely night - hoping to find solace.

The revelation had gone terribly wrong. Anjali’s fragile mind and body had been unable to cope with the truths she had been gaslighted against. Khushi had learnt, in the worst way possible, that intentions had no place nor merit against consequences.

Khushi leaned against the door to Nani’s bedroom, her legs heavy and head throbbing from the recent events. 

Forced Marriage. Mistrust. Kidnapping. Love. Rescue. Revelation. Aftermath.

Things should have been better.  

Except Shyam’s sudden expulsion had only led to a poisonous, permanent scar that damaged and questioned all relationships.

A nervous shiver ran up her spine. Did the rest of the family believe Shyam’s version of events? Or worse, believe she could have avoided the pain caused to Anjali if she had only told the truth?

But would anyone have believed her then? Could Payal and Akash’s engagement have been salvaged from it?

A loud bang snapped Khushi out of her thoughts. A furious Akash left his room.

How does one ever know one’s making the right decision?

Her heart hurt. With a gentle push she entered Nani’s room, hoping for her guidance and strength. Nani was the first and only one to call her blameless and reach out to her post the revelation. The only one to believe in her intentions.

And it had been so long since she’d slept on someone’s lap and cried her heart out.  

---

Devyani hummed the last of an old lullaby, patting an exhausted Anjali to sleep. Had she been a bit younger, anger and shock would have ruled her. But after the death of her daughter, Devyani could only feel horror and recollection of the past.

The past that made her too agreeable to the first man who could win her dear Anjali’s heart, or heap unassuming, traditional prospective brides on her grandson.

The past she had accused her grandson of not moving on from.

Hypocrite.

On seeing the shadow of the angel faced bride of her Chotey, Devyani allowed a single, unkind thought to possess her.

She didn’t deserve to be near Anjali.

And before Devyani could reign her mind, her hand stopped Khushi from entering the room, and her heart.

---

Khushi headed towards the steps, her feet numb and head swimming with Nani’s quick apology and request.

Stay away from Anjali.

Please.

The more she sees you, the more she’ll remember.

The words stung like the slap her mother gave her on the wedding day. She deserved it, but it hurt nonetheless. Arnav sat on the steps, his own brow furrowed in deep thought. Nani’s words had pricked him, but he knew better. He knew, and believed, that Khushi was not at fault.

Her feet gave way and she sat by Arnav, quaking in fear and uncertainty.

And he banished her fears with a tired smile and an offer of his shoulder.

She didn’t remember when she reached their bed, but the fleeting kiss on her forehead and the warmth of his hand in hers gave her the hope that she wasn’t alone.

And she could lighten her burden of guilt.

As long as he was there.

---

Time and normalcy would heal all wounds. While everyone catered to Anjali, Khushi catered to the family.

Nani received her daily medication for arthritis. Akash and Payal’s breakfast was sent to their room. The laundry delivery was looked after, so were all the other household chores.

The family could focus on Anjali, and help her heal - just as it should be. Payal shot her a concerned look on her way to Anjali’s room as Khushi lost her footing for a moment, her head dizzy.

Khushi gave Payal a reassuring smile. If her mental fatigue left her like this, one could only wonder how Anjali survived the night.

If anything, Arnav’s sweet smile and a breakfast sent by her Jiji gave Khushi the strength to trudge through the day.

She sat on a kitchen stool, weary, when she remembered it was a Tuesday. Her and Nani’s time to go to the temple.

---

“Sorry Khushi bhabi, Nani ji already left,” Hari Prakash informed Khushi.

“Kya, why didn’t you tell me? When did Nani-”

“What else do you expect Phati Sari?” Manorama sneered, ushering Hari Prakash away.

“I don’t understand Mami ji,” Khushi looked at her, balking at the hatred in Manorama’s eyes.

“Spelling karke de kya? Sasuma isn’t a fool to take the reason for Anjali’s devastation to the temple when she’s trying to pray for Anjali bitiya,” Manorama seethed. The gall of the girl to think she’d go on a sunny walk with Sasumaa to the temple when everyone had barely slept a wink!

“Nahi Mamiji! I didn’t mean any of this-” Khushi reached for her hand but Manorama stepped back, nearly shoving Khushi aside.

“Shut up! You Gupta sisters did this on purpose. You both trapped our sons and ruined Anjali’s life!” Manorama cried.

“No Mami ji, why would Jiji and I do it? We just wanted to save Di from suffering,” Khushi choked, her own reasonings hollow to her ears.

Manorama, despite her anger, couldn’t argue with that one statement. Khushi and Payal, truly, had nothing to gain from Anjali’s pain.

“And that man was truly a devil, he…” Khushi shivered as memories of Shyam’s harassment assaulted her.

“Then why did you stick around him?” Manorama snapped.

“To find Arnav ji! You know that, don’t you?” Khushi pleaded. Manorama had to know the truth. She certainly didn’t believe Khushi willingly spent time with her assaulter. Did she?

“Mami-”

Manorama huffed and walked away, leaving Khushi to her questions.

---

Khushi had only meant to help Anjali. And the unborn child. Nani was in the temple, Mami wouldn’t speak to her and Payal was troubled.

It was only a morsel of food and a few words of empathy.

To the woman who had made Khushi a Raizada. To the only person who took every effort, despite the family’s shared anger, to restore Khushi’s honor by granting her the rituals of a new bride.

Her best friend, her new sister.

Di.  

It never registered with Khushi that Anjali would leave to abort her child. Nani’s disappointment and Mami’s scolding terrified her.

Payal was strung, pulled in two opposite directions when Arnav rushed in with an unconscious Anjali, and Khushi slumped on the sofa, white as a ghost.

With so many hurt, who could she help? Who should she help?

---

“You are the biggest mistake of my life Khushi Kumari Gupta,” Khushi hitched at the use of her maiden name, and his claim.

“I wish I never met you,” Arnav snarled, leaving her alone by the poolside.

Breaking her heart and taking her only hope away.

Khushi had no more tears left to cry.

---

“What happened, where are you going?” Akash asked, several hours later.

“Woh, I was thinking I should check up on Khushi. Especially since what’s been happening since this morning-”

“-and do you even know who has been suffering since this morning?” Payal bristled at his tone. Akash stared at his wife in wonder, was his mother right? Did neither of the sisters get the magnitude of their actions!?

Payal couldn’t collect her wits. How could she make him understand that Khushi had been suffering as well? She’d seen it in her little sister’s scars and terrified eyes.

She didn’t even get a chance to ask how she and Arnav had survived the kidnapping.

“You want to check on Khushi?” Akash scoffed, “Do you have any idea about Di’s state?”

“Akash I didn’t mean that. Di means just as much,” but there is no one for Khushi.

“Payal, you aren’t just Khushi’s sister. You are the daughter in law of this house. And your duties as a bahu outweighs those of a sister.” Payal stood rooted to her spot, unable to defend, unable to believe everything her husband of six months said.

“Or perhaps you don’t feel thinking or caring for Di is a part of your responsibility.” Akash stormed out of the room without a second glance.

---

After half an hour Payal mustered enough strength to go to Khushi’s room, despite Akash’s hostility. What she found was not her sister.

Pale and and delirious, Khushi shoved her clothes into her duffle bag, careless about the ripped gota and pom poms. Her hands and feet were unsteady, unable to hold on to all the clothes her thin arms carried.

“Khushi?” Khushi stopped at the gentle touch of her sister.

“Jiji, I have to leave. I… I am the cause of Di’s pain. I should have never listened to Amma, I should’ve told him the truth when time came. I… what was I thinking?!”

Payal engulfed Khushi into a hug, shushing her cries. In few, incoherent words Khushi told the truth.

The will, Arnav’s kidnapping, Mami and NK’s aid, NK discovering the whole truth, Shyam’s attempt on both of their lives, their eventual rescue.

“Khushi, you and Arnav ji haven’t visited a doctor yet?” Payal exclaimed, checking Khushi’s scars.

“Nothing happened to us Jiji, I don’t need a doctor. Par Di, I didn’t know she’ll end-”

“Khushi, no, you and Arnav ji will head to a hospital-”

“-Bhai,” Akash stepped in the room, with no effort to hide his disappointment, “Payal, of course, you’re here. Di got up. I don’t know where’s her medication is and she needed food-”

“Hum abhi-”

“No it’s ok, talk to your sister, I’ll figure everything out.” Akash stepped out, leaving Payal torn. Which sister should she attend to?

Payal didn’t have to decide. Khushi ushered her out, after a promise to head to the doctor. In her heart Payal knew that Khushi hadn’t told her one thing.

Arnav’s reaction to Anjali’s abortion attempt.

---

Khushi could barely stand on her two feet, her world turning before her every second. At one moment Arnav claimed that he didn’t mean anything he had said before, in another he reduced their marriage to the contract he forcibly bound her to.

What did he not mean? If every word of what he said is not what he meant, then was his current threat of their contract marriage also not true? Or the whisper of an “I Love you” over the phone?

Arnav turned around, unable to meet Khushi’s eyes. He could no longer lie to her.

And she would not stop at his plea.

He’d make up for every injury up, every pain. He just needed time. And if it was necessary to hurt her to get her to stay back, he would do so. If he needed to confirm that their marriage, and everything in between, was nothing more than a contract… he would do so.

He could not afford to lose her.

“If I leave… drag me to court? Police? Jail?”

“I’d do what I promised,” Arnav swallowed, unable to hold his shame in his lie, “Separate Akash and Payal.” Stealing his resolve, he said, “By now you know-”

Thump.

He turned and lost his footing. Dread stole his voice and clutched his heart in a vice grip.

A silent scream left his mouth.

Khushi lay on the floor, motionless.

---

Read Part 2

---

A/N: Second part will be up soon. A big thank you to @ridzmystique​ for checking on this story and pushing me to complete Farak. Thank you for reading/liking.

#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #ipkknd ff #ts: farak #fanfiction

[books4eva180]

Hey guys I am a writer on ao3 under the same name where I right Klaroline and Barchie stories. I've decided to create a Tumblr where you can see when I start working on a chapter and read a sneak peak. It also means you can expect it in about a week to a week in a half after I post something. Here is a sneak peak for chapter 18 of A Million Reasons to Stay. If you haven't read it spoilers down below.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518105/chapters/64633054

Summary: Caroline Forbes is an ordinary 21 year old girl. She lives in NYC in a crappy apartment with her 3 best friends while trying to get her degree in journalism at Columbia with a virtually non existent love life. Well that is until she is diagnosed with Stage 2 Stomach Cancer. Caroline is devastated and till the cancer is for sure gone she swears off romance. Those plans go out the window when she falls for Klaus. Literally he runs into her and she falls onto the sidewalk. So she goes on a date with him. At first Caroline resolves to go on a few dates with him just wanting to spend time with someone who doesn't know she has cancer and treats her like she is going to drop dead any second. Though the more time she spends with him the harder it gets for Caroline to leave. How long will it be till Klaus figures out about her big secret and when he does will it tear them apart forever or bring them closer than ever?

Chapter 18

Caroline POV

All of my friends are looking at me at shock at my most recent statement; the words are still ringing in my ears.

“I have to break up with him.”

Once again all of my friends start to look at me as if I have grown a second head; Katherine is the first one to speak, her words still a little stuttered because of the tears.

“What why? I thought you guys were happy together. Did he cheat on you? Because Caroline if he did I swear I will drive straight down to that fancy shmancy penthouse of his and shove my foot so far up his a-.”

“Wait wait wait” I rush to cut Katherine off before she can go on one of her tirades “Klaus did not cheat on me; it’s quite the opposite really. He just invited me on a trip to freaking Rome and I didn’t feel excitement or happiness. I just felt guilt and sadness. It made me realize what you were saying all those months ago was true Katherine. It's not fair to me or Klaus that I am keeping these secrets from him; I am leading him on and I am hurting myself by keeping these secrets from him or by not focusing on getting better as much as I should. And here Klaus is planning trips I will never get to go on because I will be-” the word dead starts to form on my lips but I realize that’s the last thing my friends need to hear about right now, so I quickly change course “I’ll still be really sick or recovering or I just don’t know. That’s the thing I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.” I let out a loud sniffle “And I just don’t want to hurt him; I love him too much to do that to him.”

This is when the tears start to pour down my face; all that I’ve been holding back today, even weeks, hell maybe even months, comes flooding out. If I had any strength left I would go back to my room and wallow in my misery in peace, but I don’t so I just sit there sobbing while my friends watch on; sympathetic expressions mixed with an ever present bid of sadness and worry tinged on their faces. I am crying for what is and what could have been. Trips to Rome instead of trips to the hospital, beautiful golden tinged glasses of champagne instead of glasses of water that make me gag mixed with a cocktail of pain medication, mornings curled up together instead of curled up in pain, a life with Klaus instead of a life without him. Letting go of Klaus means letting go of the carefree reality that I have been living in ever since April; dating Klaus was like my own little rebellion to the shit storm that is my life, a piece of happiness and excitement to lighten up the darkness that was all around me, when Klaus is gone, my cancer will be all there is left. Saying goodbye to Klaus means finally accepting the truth, all that talk about death and dealing with the cancer all these months has just been a cover up I think; because as long as I have Klaus around there will still be a part of me that clings to the lie that I am healthy and happy; not sick and depressed whose life is like a metronome. Swinging back in forth in between life and death.

Tick Tock…...Tick Tock…...Tick Tock…...Tick

#klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #klaus x caroline #klaroline

[lily-lilou]

My understanding and analysis of the magical system in The Dragon Prince.  Part 1 - my first thoughts on it - primal and dark magic aren’t the only kind of magic.

Ok, I promised to several people I would post this today so there it is! (@beautifulterriblequeen​, @kotikala​, I’m sorry I don’t have all the account... Julia, mama and the others ;_;) 

It’s long (so I separated it in two post... but it will be long anyway, especially the second one. So I wish you a lot of courage to go through this until the end...) but it’s because it’s the result of some month of searching and digging. It’s still not complete, however. But if you have some time to lose and in love with this world, maybe this theory (and I insist, it’s a theory, maybe I’m totally wrong) will interest you:

Anyway, let’s just begin! 

You can see the magical system in TDP like a diamond with several facets: we saw some of them, and some of us dug to find more.

For me, this theory _ the idea that the magical system in TDP is wider than what we saw_ started from a simple thing in Callum’s spellsbook, the “secret” we can find in the ASL section, the one Sarai repeated when she was alive.

My first reaction was “greeeeaaat! Another show where “love is magic. Yaay! =_=’”

Okay, "love" is an important theme on the dragon prince, yes. But magic ?

But let’s be honest: I don't think they would have placed something like this in the book for nothing. After all, we have to admit that, in this show, NOTHiNG is ever done simply. So maybe this time “love is magic” would be more elaborate than usual?

We do know that the first thing the creators talked about when they started to imagine this world, was the magical system. Not the characters, not the creatures or landscape or anything, but the magical system.

And what do we have so far? Primal magic and dark magic. Is it really that simple? I had to think it through!

1. My first thoughts about dark magic:

Thinking about this above led me to think about dark magic, about how it's "wrong", like Callum said. That point have already been discussed by many of us and a lot disagree, it's too easy to classified it as "wrong" like it’s stated in the show, because the reason you had to use it can be understandable.

Only... the creator of the show have NEVER chose easy/simple road in writing. So why just put dark magic as "wrong" without explanations? Maybe there's something more here too?

I understood dark magic as bad, not for the reason, but for the concept, about what it represents: it's taking (life, will) without asking. It's stealing, it's killing, no matter your excuse. You can invoke righteousness, justice, revenge, self-defence, strengh, power and all, the result is always the same: death. And as you kill to achieve your goal, you pay a heavy price. It staint you, it... "take" something for you (like it was implied in several interview and even in the book, but we’ll talk about this later). (ok, nothing new, here)

But you must have noticed this: those aren't only related to dark magic. It's darkness and everyone can do it. Sol Regem did it, Runaan did it, Harrow did it. They chose to kill and they tainted themselves too, even if it's not in the way pure dark magic does.

So you have the "dark" side with death and all, and opposed to this, the "white" one. Life, forgiveness. love. And all the people have to choose between those white and black sides, between life and death. Only the area they moved in to make their choices is grey. It's the result who, in the end, is more black or white than grey _ but sometimes still a little grey_.

 So, it’s absolutely interesting (hehe… hem^^’) but these thoughts are the ground of the theories and analysis that will now follow in this post and the next one!!!!

 2. The “reward theory”

As said by Sarai in the image below : "love is magic".

 My first question then, was: “…But what is “magic”?” Not Primal magic or Dark magic. Just… Magic. My first thought was: magic is life. Or at least, it should be. Remember the human land deprived of magic who was dying? And look at Primal magic, it’s all life-related at some point. So, yeah, Magic is life!

And so, if magic is life and love is magic, doesn’t this mean that love is life, too?

If that's true, then maybe the opposite is true too? Hate is death.

Why not, after all?! If magic is love, and life… how could dark magic, who's litterally death, came from the same source? How could dark magic… be Magic at all if they’re opposite to each other?

And more importantly : where is this "magical love" in the magic system here ? It's not primal magic, it's not dark magic, but it is magic.

From that point, I assumed Magic is wider than Humans and Xadians (and us, humble fans, obviously) know. It's probably something more... powerful, a more primal form of magic. More subtle but powerful.

Why subtle?

This is the first thing I noticed in the show, the impressive succession of miracles, of “what if” who went just right. “What if Callum left to go to Rayla just one minute later at the storm spire?”, “What if Ethari didn’t saw Rayla in the reflection?”, “what if Viren hadn’t captured Lain and Tiadrin, letting no traces behind so people wouldn’t misinterpret what happened?”, “What if Marcos hadn’t been here?”, “what if Runaan had send someone else to kill him?”, what if…

It gave me the impression that there’s something more. Is it Destiny? Is it something else? Someone? Anything?

But that’s the first layer. There’s another one:

In this show, it's as if every action who implied a choice about doing the right thing, about choosing life over death, love over hate or the opposite, is somehow... repaid? Rewarded?

By... Magic itself? Destiny again? Fate? the world? Some unknown entity? by Magic who is an entity? Why not? “If magic is life, if she brings life to everything, how could she not be alive?”... or something like that. Anyway!

Maybe it’s this, or maybe you’re rewarded by the side you choose?

 In both case, when you chose life or love, then you will live. You chose death or hate, then you will die. (I am putting thing in an extreme way, I know... ^^)

In other words, when you choose life/love or death/hate, your act is related to magic. but not the magic we saw until now. It's something else. Just like Dark magic is not Primal magic.

 So okay, that’s nice once again, but what could prove it? 

Well, just take a look at this:

You use dark magic, it stains you. It "takes" something from you, empties you as if the world itself can't allow you to make others beeing to pay for the choice you made. 

 Why not? but that's general, let's see more concrete exemples (and my headcanon interpretations) when our characters did the "right" or "wrong" thing:

Zym's egg falls in the frozen lake and Ezran risks his life to save him => Ez (can already talk to animals, yes) got an unusual, powerful bond with our little dragon, so strong the little dragon do the exact same things as him while sleeping, so strong he can see through his eyes and talk with him even when they're separated. As if his self-sacrificing act had been rewarded: you choose to risk your life to save him ? then you two will be linked even strongly than before.

Rayla spares Marcos => our lad is the first one to rebel against Viren, act who instill courage in others who follow him. Marco became a part to the rebellion and was one of those who rallied Duren's forces (I guess) : you spare an innocent even if he was your enemy? Then he will become your ally.

Callum breaks his primal stone to save Zym and, by this, accepts the idea of returning to a "I'm nobody" state. Then he uses dark magic but choose to completely reject it and end up with the sky arcanum. You sacrifice your magic, who was important to you to save a life (and the world btw) ? then you made the choice to use a magic meant to kill but in the end decided to not go on that path ? then you will retrieve what you sacrificed in the first place, in an even stronger way.

Amaya save Janai when she could have killed her, her enemy, Janai end up fighting with her. 

Same for Janai, she saved, even trusted Amaya. 

In a general way: children, you fought for peace ? you let go of your grudge, your grief and all of your biased jugments ? then peace you'll have (more or less, we know not everyone want peace)

Ezran chose to forgive Soren and Claudia. Soren end up saving him in return and turning to his side. As for Claudia, I'll talk about her in a while.

Callum jump after Rayla to save her, it's love who made him mastered the spell to save them both. You're ready to sacrifice yourself for her? then you will both be saved.

Rayla tackle Viren from the peak of the storm spire. She doesn't search “death”, she's trying to save Zym. She's ready to lose her life to save him. out of righteousness, out of love. Then she get saved by Callum.

 Now what about the "dark side" we call the “narrative of strength”?

Avizandum killed many people, especially Sarai who had a pure heart. He got killed by Harrow.

Harrow chose hate and death by killing him, he got killed by Runaan.

Runaan is the most interesting one so far: he had a choice to make too. Two choices.  He could have backed up but chose to kill Harrow anyway and so chose “death”. However, even if we’re still not absolutely sure he decided to spare Ezran, he did chose (we know this from the team at Wonderstorm now, so it’s canon) to spare Rayla despite what law and duty said. Killing her was never in his agenda. So Runaan had to choose between life and death, he chose both and ended... between both, literally! "the irony is wonderful"…

Kesha, with all her arrogance (who was so predictable) and her hate toward humanity got killed in a not so soft way.

Viren... I think his many "rewards" have already started. When he chose to kill the magma titan, Sarai (they were friends, it's canon) got killed and Amaya hates him for this (it's canon to, thedragonprince official on tumblr mentionned it once). He lost 2 friends on that day. When he chose to kill Avizandum, he lost his other friend, Harrow. Here in a most terrible way and I will, once again, talk about this later. He inflicted a terrible spell to Rayla's parents but this turned against him. If not for them completely vanished, no one would have thought they had ran away, Rayla _ the only moonshadow elf who had her heart in the right place_ wouldn't have to go to this mission to clear her name. No other assassin would have spared Marcos, or listen to callum, no other assassin would have followed Ezran, found the egg and chose to "make things right" including the humans. Runaan proved it. And I'm not finished with Viren. He lost his son, he will lose is daughter and he's currently in the grasp of a powerful being who's obviously toying with him and he don't even know it. And he's so blind he can't even see it.

Edit: kinda forgot about Sol Regem who torched down a city of hundred of thousand people, who got rewarded by being blinded, losing his throne and being hated and feared by everyone. 1200years later, when he could have change he didn’t. So okay Callum used dark magic. But that wasn’t a reason to kill Zym. Reward? Lux Aurea, the city who had been built to honor him (according to Callum spellsbook) fall, a lot of Sunfire elves seems to have died and, if we believe the summary of the tabletop game, it’s pretty ugly... a city for a city? Maybe.

Claudia is also very interesting, in between love and hate, death and light. Here’s an excerpt from an interview I found:

As for Claudia, she really seems to have committed to this dark path now. Is there any hope for her in the future? Richmond: Yes! There’s totally hope. Ehasz: But it might get worse before it gets better. [...] Ehasz: Claudia is, ahh… Richmond: She’s super complicated. She’s a fascinating character. There’s a long way to go with Claudia, she’s super exciting. Ehasz: But she’s not about power! She’s about **love**. I mean, that’s one thing that’s interesting about her. She’s on a very dark path, but her core motivation is love, and I think that’s going to be very interesting.

She really is the best character to represent that grey area. And if this first part of my theory, about "rewards" is true, it could truly end up good for her. When she had to choose between Soren and Zym, she chose her brother. She chose her father over Soren (I'm talking about the scene in the dungeon, not after Kazef's transformation) not out of malice but out of fear. She loves her family and deceived herself because she's not strong enough to see the truth. I really think she will do the right choice when she will finally see her father for what he truly is (as Richmond said : "there's totally hope").

  3. That’s nice and interesting, Lily… but this looks like “destiny” at worst. Is there really another kind of magic than dark magic and primal magic?

If the creators really put so much thoughts and efforts in creating the magical system, it’s really likely this way. But what would be the point in telling how it works right away? We do have to discover it with the characters themselves.

However, the existence of another kind of magic, something deeper, has been implied several time.

We have clues:

Like here (8:29min and especially 9:00min if the link doesn't work correctly), where Aaron Ehasz talked about an earlier and less differenciated kind of magic.

Or like what happened to Ezran in the ice-lake. In the novel, we have an interesting description form his POV, something magical happened (I’ll come back to this in a later part)

And that new or maybe forgotten kind of magic will, maybe… be the magic that will be used to free our dear moonshadow elves from the coins? Because we have some clues :

Question: [...] Runaan got turned into a coin [...] Can they be restored to their original forms?

Ehasz: “My gut is, it seems like the kind of thing that would require incredible and powerful magic to reverse. [...] We do not answer that question in Season Three. I’m telling you, it would take incredible magic and probably dark magic to reverse it, but I don’t know [if that’s going to happen]. 

(I promise, that last point isn’t here for nothing :3)

Okay, this post is over. The next one will be about the magical system in itself and that “other magic” implied here, about what I found in the show about it.

#TDP #magical system #tdp theories #reward theory #ezran #runaan #zym #dark magic #primal magic #narrative of strengh #narrative of love #love is magic #callum's spellbook #love-magic #TDP's magical system is awesome #Rayla #Callum #arf tags are complicated #tumblr is complicated

[piilokarsastus]

Question time!

1: Let’s start with a tricky one; what is the real reason you are confused right now? because life is hard and i just don’t understand what i’m doing wrong but everyone else seems to know

2: Do you ever get “good morning” texts from anyone? nope. and to be fair, i would be sleeping anyway

3: If your significant other smoked pot, would you care? if it’s like an actual thing for them that they do regularly, i’d probably be a bit concerned, but i don’t see anything wrong with trying things out for fun. if you’re just a straight up pothead, we wouldn’t be dating in the first place

4: Do you find it easy to trust others? i guess

5: What were you doing at 11PM last night? filling in another pointless question post on tumblr, funny that you should ask

6: You’re drunk and lost walking down the road; who is with you? unlikely scenario, but i’m gonna say my friends from uni

7: What would you do if you found out you had been cheated on? probably spend the next few years thinking about it, unable to trust anyone again

8: Are you close with your dad? not as close as with my mum but still reasonably close

9: I bet you kissed someone last night, right? i’m curious as to what kind of life you think i’m living because this is not it

10: What are you listening to? the soothing hum of my laptop fan

11: You can only drink ONE liquid for the rest of your life - what is it? woter:)

12: Do you like hickeys? i don’t exactly understand the point

13: What time do you go to bed? going to bed and falling asleep are two very different things but usually around 2-4

14: Is there someone who continuously lets you down? me. it’s me.

15: Can you text as quickly with one hand as you do both? definitely not

16: Do you always answer your texts? sooner or later, yes

17: Do you hate the person you fell the hardest for? no

18: When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends? not that long ago

19: Is there someone that makes you happy every time you see them? all of my friends

20: What was your last thought before you went to bed last night? aight imma head out

21: Is anyone else in the room with you? no

22: Do you believe what goes around comes around? in a sense i do

23: Were you happier four months ago than you are now? i feel like i was, yeah

24: Is there someone you wish you could fix things with? well there’s nothing to “fix” per se, i just wish things went differently

25: In the past week, have you cried? yes

26: What colour is the shirt you are wearing? red

27: Do people ever call you by your last name? my aunt often does, weirdly enough

28: Is anyone ignoring you right now? only every single one of the 4 people i’ve messaged on tinder recently. which makes me feel really great

29: Do you have a best friend? there’s someone i could perhaps call my best friend but i don’t think i have a “true” best friend at the moment like those i’ve had before

30: Would it be hard seeing someone else kiss the last person you kissed? no i’m completely neutral towards her

31: Who was your last call from? my friend tried to call me yesterday but i couldn’t answer

32: Are you mad at anyone? no

33: Have you ever kissed someone older than you? marginally, yes

34: How old will the last person you kissed be on his/her next birthday? honestly i don’t know?? i don’t remember when she was born exactly but i feel like we were born in the same year at least, so i’m guessing either 21 or 22

35: How many more days until your birthday? 329

36: Do you have any summer plans yet? summer literally just ended so no

37: Do you have any good friends of the opposite sex? not exactly a fan of the word opposite in this context but i get what you mean. so yeah, most of my friends are of the “opposite” sex

38: Are you keeping anything from your best friend(s) now? nothing that would be their business to know

39: Do you have a secret that you’ve never told anyone? i guess i do.

40: Have you ever regretted kissing someone? i haven’t kissed nearly enough people for there to be any regrets. soo... would you like to be my first regret? haha just kidding... unless...

41: Do you think age matters in relationships? not going to write the essay that the wording of this question warrants but basically yes but only to some extent; what’s more important is that you’re in a similar phase in life and have similar expectations about the relationship. age can be a large factor in those things as well as your “maturity” but it isn’t the only factor.

42: Are you available? yeah bitch hmu

43: How many people have you had real, strong feelings for since high school ended? two

44: If you had to get a piercing (not ears), what would you get? well i guess it’d have to be a septum, then

45: Do you believe exes can be friends? yes, in fact that’s my life philosophy

46: Do you regret anything? :)) i don’t think about it as much as i used to but i’ve never fully forgiven myself for confessing my feelings to someone who wasn’t interested in me. this is known as the february 2019 incident

47: Honestly, what’s on your mind right now? tiddies

48: Did you ever lose a best friend? yeah, not to death but to life

49: Was your last kiss a mistake? no

50: Why aren’t you pursuing the person you like? i don’t quite like anyone at the moment and it’s gonna take a long time until i’m ever going to have the courage to make a move on anyone i’m interested in because of the aforementioned incident

51: Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry? no

52: Do you still talk with the person you LAST kissed? no, like there’s nothing negative between us and we’d say hello if we met on the street but we just don’t talk 

53: What was the last thing you ate? pancake:)

54: Did you get any compliments today? haven’t really interacted with anyone today so no

55: Where are you going on your next vacation? bich this is my vacation, i’m going nowhere except to bed

56: Do you own anything from other countries? yes. like i’m a bit amused by this question like where on this planet can you even live where at least some of your stuff hasn’t been made in China etc. (well, i guess that would be China). but even if you’re referring to souvenirs from trips etc, still yes

57: Are most of your friend guys or girls? girls

58: Where have you lived most of your life? in Oulu, Finland

59: When was the last time you took a long drive? a few months ago, but i wasn’t the one driving

60: Have you ever played Spin the Bottle? yes, also known as the game where my friends try to find out who i have a crush on

61: Have you ever TPd someone’s house? i had to google what TPing means and i’m more and more scared of americans every day

62: Who do you text the most? honestly my social life is at a point where my most common recurring interaction is exchanging cat videos with my mum (apart from group chats)

63: What was the last movie you saw? the matrix

64: What’s preventing your current boyfriend/girlfriend from going back to their ex? yeah as if i have one

65: How many boyfriends/girlfriends did you have in 2010? 2010?? damn i was literally 10

66: Is the last person you kissed younger than you? we were around the same age

67: Do you curse around your parents? for comedic effect

68: Are you happy with where you live? not my dream apartment but it’s okay

69: Do you collect anything? my tiktok seems to have become a collection of about 250 cute lgbt folks, but other than that, no

70: What’s your favourite colour? a kind of deep, ultramarine blue

71: Does the last song you listened to remind you of anyone? not in particular

72: Has anyone ever cheated on you? no

73: What are your plans for tomorrow? make some music

74: Do you have siblings over the age of twenty-one? i don’t have any

75: Does your last ex have a job? not that i know of

76: What would you do if you found out your most recent ex was in a relationship? she is and i’m happy for her, or as happy as i can be while being painfully aware of the fact that my love life hasn’t gone anywhere in the past two years

77: Where is your cellphone? on the floor, charging

78: What colour is your cellphone? black and bronze

79: What did you dream of last night? it was something fairly nsfw and extremely hot and i lterally had to pause for a second when i woke up because damn it’s been so fucking long since i’ve experienced that irl and it left me with a bad case of yearning

80: Are you atheist? yes

81: Will you change your name when you get married? no

82: Are you ready for autumn weather? would be a bit too late if i wasn’t

83: Have you had any big storms recently? there was one that was rumoured to be really big but tbh i barely noticed it 

84: What kind of bottoms are you wearing? just my comfy pajamas

#Random info about me

[argentvive]

Daenerys Chains Her Dragons - Part 2

The Dragon and King Lear

Charles Nicholl devotes about 5 pages of his book on literary alchemy, The Chemical Theatre, to dragon imagery in Shakespeare’s King Lear (pp. 160-165).  Instead of going straight from a treatise in physical alchemy to an interpretation of a work of literature, I always find it helpful to see how other authors have used a particular symbol.  Obviously, the best thing when looking at ASOIAF is to find a parallel in another work of fantasy.  But since all English literature since 1600 is influenced directly or indirectly by Shakespeare, it’s helpful to look at what the Bard has done.  

There is no actual dragon in King Lear.  There are no fantastical elements--no magic at all--unlike in Shakespeare’s romances or comedies like A Midsummer Night’s Dream.  But Lear uses the metaphor of a dragon to describe himself, beginning with this famous line.  

(Source of the illustration is unknown. Someone just blew up the line and posted it over a copy of a dictionary page, then added a cute GREEN dragon.) 

 Here’s the context in the play.  King Lear, approaching 80 years old, has decided to lay down his crown and enjoy his few remaining years without the responsibilities of rule.  He plans to divide the kingdom among his 3 daughters.  But first, he asks them to tell him how much they love him.  The 2 eldest, Reagan and Goneril, laud him with fake praise and adoration.  The youngest, Cordelia, offers only to “love and be silent.” At this Lear falls into a rage: “he curses his most loving daughter and banishes his most faithful servant [Kent].”

Lear . . . He that makes his generation messes

To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosome

Be, as well-neighbour’d, pittied, and releev’d,

 As thou my sometime daughter [i.e. Cordelia]

Kent  Good my Liege--

Lear  Peace, Kent!

Come not between the Dragon and his wrath.

“At this precise first moment of fall, this first turning of the Wheel, Lear becomes the Dragon. The Dragon rises up to devour the King.”  Lear is now “the opposite, or shadow, or negation of the King.”  (All quotes, unless otherwise indicated, are from Nicholl.)

Lear identifies himself as “the Dragon.”  As Nicholl notes:

...the alchemical playgoer of c. 1605...saw the sick King as an emblem of corrupt matter, and heard the Dragon as a signal for that matter to embrak on its purgatorial journey.

In other words, the educated among Shakespeare’s audience would know that Lear was embarking on the trials and torments of an alchemical transformation.  (The line reminds me a bit of Aerys, who so identified himself with dragons that he expected to rise as one after he burned down King’s Landing.)  

As Nicholl explains, Lear’s curse is “the first turn of the Wheel, the first drastic and fatal reversal of hierarchies, the extinction of truth and love in favour of flattery and hatred.”  The alchemical process is circular, like a wheel.  Lear has now begun his descent to the bottom, the nadir.  Kent recognizes immediately that the king has gone mad.

As I explained in Part 1, the Dragon symbolizes Mercurius.  Mercurius has TWO primary meanings:  it is the prima materia, the “raw stuff,” and also the mercurial water--the poison, vitriol--that devours the raw stuff, that devours itself.

As Jung writes:

Mercurius stands at the beginning and end of the work: he is the prima materia, the caput corvi, the nigredo; as dragon he devours himself and as dragon he dies, to rise again as the lapis [Stone].  

The parallel between the Dragon in alchemy and King Lear is now apparent. Nicholl again:

...just as the alchemical Dragon is the true object of its own poison--”he quickly consumes his venom, for he devours his poisonous tail--so too Lear is the true recipient of his own curses: it is he who is banished and dismembered, “made nothing” by the storm and his madness.

So what happens then?  How and when does Lear shake off his identification with the Dragon?”

As you would expect.  He descends into the nigredo, is tested and tormented, is stripped of all his finery, his clothes, even his sanity.  His one companion, the Fool, tells him what he is: “thou art nothing.”

Lear. Who is it that can tell me who I am?

Fool. Lear’s shadow.

Lear is now “his own shadow, the negative of the king.”

Lear is finally broken by a violent storm. “He surrenders to the Storm as he could never have done to anyone human.”  For the first time in the play, he shows compassion. 

Poore naked wretches, where so ere you are,

That bide the pelting of this pittilesse storme,

How shall your houselesse heads and unfed sides, 

Your loop’d and window’d raggedness, defend you 

From seasons such as these? O I hae tane [taken]

Too little care of this.

For the first time he shows “a concern for someone other than himself,” for the Fool.

My wits begin to turne,

Come on my boy. How dost my boy? Art cold?

Compassion, fellow-feeling, empathy--and self-awareness--these are the marks of a protagonist emerging from the depths, climbing up from the nadir.  Lear’s madness ebbs, his mind clears.  He realizes, in that well-known phrase, that even a “dog is obeyed in office. 

“The purgation ends with a union, a rejoicing in the arms of the White Queen...Cordelia.” In this Chemical Wedding, Lear is the Red King and Cordelia the White Queen

Lear understands his experience as an alchemical one, that he has been woken from death.

Lear You do me wrong to take me out o’ th’ grave.

He now speaks with compassion and humility.

I am mightily abus’d. I should ev’n dye with pitty

To see another thus. I know not what to say. . . 

Pray, do not mocke me:

I am a very foolish fond old man.

Lear and Cordelia are reunited and reconciled.  Nicholl includes this image from De alchimia to illustrate her healing, reanimating role.

“So Cordelia cradles the exhausted Lear--the wrathful Dragon who cast her out at the beginning of the work--and restores him with a kiss.”

Lear is restored in mind and body, he regains the throne.  And there the play might have ended.  But King Lear is a tragedy, not a romance/fantasy like The Tempest or The Winter’s Tale.  So the play has a tragic end. Cordelia is slain and Lear dies of grief.  The kingdom does get a new king, however, the worthy Edgar, so all is not lost.

So on to Daenerys II of ADWD, where we will see whether Daenerys shows compassion, empathy, and self-awareness, and how she is attempting to control her dragons.  

#game of thrones meta #asoiaf #alchemy #king lear #william shakespeare #mercurius #dragon #chemical wedding #carl gustav jung #atalanta fugiens #de alchimia #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #cordelia #aerys targaryen

[spectraspecs-writes]

Tatooine - Chapter 60

Link to the masterpost. Chapter 59. Chapter 61.

@averruncusho @marie39544 thank you for reading you get a tag.

A/N: I had a whole note written out but tumblr did me dirty and wouldn’t let me post. Suffice it to say since I can’t leave the house to do my job I’ve got more time to type. Now it just means finding the motivation lol

--------------

I meet Bastila back at the Czerka office and take the vaporators from her. I also trade the gaffi sticks I got earlier to the protocol officer, which quickly earns me back the 200 credits Bastila spent on the vaporators. Juhani also asks if she can return to the ship - something about the desert disagreeing with her. Honestly, I’d go back, too, but the Sand People are expecting me to return, not one of the others. 

Mission also asks to come, in a way that there’s no saying no to. “If the Sand People killed Griff, they’ll have to answer to me!” she says.

“Mission, I already went through all this effort to handle the situation peacefully,” I tell her.

“Well… okay, they’ll have to answer to me peacefully!” she corrects herself. There’s no telling her no, clearly, so she comes along. Just for Griff, though. If things go south with the Sand People, I don’t want her at risk.

We make the trek back through the desert to the Sand People enclave. (Mission even takes down the mines), and we meet one of the guards at the door. He is obviously not happy to see us, but his Chieftain told him to wait, so he waited. He’s probably been standing here for about an hour. Even through the layers of wrappings, I can tell that he absolutely hates us being here. I give him a nod of acknowledgement and look to HK. “Tell him we have the vaporators,” I say, and HK does. 

“Translation: He will take us before the Chieftain, as he was instructed to do.”

If I can read anything of how the Chieftain is feeling, which is tricky even with the Force, I can tell that the Chieftain is surprised to see me back. He says something and HK translates. “Translation: He did not expect us to return, master. He wonders if we have brought the moisture vaporators.”

I set my pack down and pull them out - it’s a set of two, very lightweight. “I’ve got them right here.”

Another surprised sound, and words from the Chieftain. “Translation: He does not trust you, master, but you have done more than any other outsider. They will not attack, and he grants you his Chieftain's Gaffi as reward.” Well that worked out, didn’t it? “The attacks will be reduced, and he will allow you to explore this enclave, but be warned that any lack of respect will result in death.”

I try to nod my thanks, but I’m not sure how well it comes off. Mission comes up from behind me and asks, quite firmly, “What about Griff? Where’s my brother?”

HK looks at me, and I give him the go-ahead to ask. The Chieftain tells him, and HK translates, “Translation: He says that by his very presence, this Griff defiles their home and land. He is without any semblance of usefulness to them.”

“Yep, that would be Griff,” Mission says. 

“Extrapolation: I would assume we are free to take him. It is doubtful they will even waste the effort to kill him. Perhaps we could do it, master?”

“You’ve got weird taste in droids, Rena,” Mission says, clearly fighting the urge to rip HK’s head off. 

“Ask about those Jawas for Iziz as well.”

“Translation: He says that the captive Jawas are slaves and that have lived past their usefulness. You may take them, if you wish.”

“Thank you,” I say, “That’s all we need.”

“Translation: We are free to leave.”

The Sand People enclave is shaped like a big circle of canvas and cloth. Rooms have been cordoned off using the same wood slats that made up the main door. But it’s all different. Different kinds of wood, different grains. There’s clearly some local plant life, desert plants. Banthas are pretty big and in order to support that size long term, there would have to be some native plants. But no trees, there’s not enough water, no stable soil. Things like that can’t grow here. Odds are it’s wood they salvaged from Czerka or other people who’ve come to this planet looking for something to sell. In some places the wood has been replaced with metal, replaced where it’s rotted. The cloth has been woven from Bantha fur - it’s thin and it doesn’t insulate very well, but it clearly keeps sand out. Any supplies they have are stored in plasteel cylinders salvaged from Czerka or a tight wicker. Mostly plasteel, though - if I were there I wouldn’t waste the rare grasses on woven goods. What surprises me though is the lack of glass. A place with all this sand, I would expect a lot of glass. But on the other hand, glass is fragile and heavy, so it doesn’t lend itself well to a nomadic species. Bantha wool on the other hand is lighter and foldable, and if it tears it can be repaired. Worst comes to worst, just shear the Bantha again.

Any rooms I peer into looking for Griff and the Jawas I close once I see they’re not in there. Most doors are on the inside of the circular track, but at one point there are two rooms opposite each other. If it were me, I would keep my prisoners close to each other. The fact that there are four Sand People here all but confirms it. “Are your prisoners here?” I ask, and HK translates.

“Translation: Affirmative, master.”

“Your chieftain said we could take them.” HK translates, and they leave. So first I open the door on the inside of the track. There are three Jawas inside, which means Griff must be on the other side. “Carth, Bastila, you take the Jawas,” I tell them, “Mission, let’s say hi to your brother.”

I pull the door open, and I can hear someone moving anxiously on the other side, standing up, and I think I hear the words “Kriffing bones.” But then he sees me - looks a lot like Mission, so it’s got to be Griff - sees that I’m human, and relaxes. “Uh... you there! I'm... I'm a high ranking executive of the Czerka Corporation!” Ha! “Eh... there's a big reward if you take me back to Anchorhead!” Good grief.

“Griff, don't you recognize me?” Mission says, sounding agonized, disappointed, “It's Mission!”

Griff’s face changes as he looks at her, really looks at her. “Mission?” he says, in complete disbelief, “Is it really you? I heard Taris was destroyed! I thought you were dead!” He hugs her. Mission doesn’t know how she feels about it. “Joy of joys, my little sister is alive!”

“I…” Mission stammers a little, pushing Griff back, “Griff, I have to ask you something. It's important. I… I ran into Lena. She... she said it was your idea to leave me on Taris. It's not true, is it?”

Wow, if Twi’leks could sweat. “Ah, well... there's the truth and then there's the truth, you know? I always meant to go back to Taris, sis,” he says, talking very quickly, “Just as soon as I had the credits to pay off my debts. But credits have been hard to come by.”

“You mean it's true?” Mission’s eyes start to water. “It was your idea to leave me there?” I want to comfort her, but I know she’s not done. “I'm your sister! How could you abandon me like that?”

“Come on, sis. You didn't need me to look after you anymore.” Griff, that is beside the point. “You may have been young, but you knew how to take care of yourself.” She’s fifteen! “Besides, you're here now - everything worked out fine!”

“That's it? That's all you have to say to me after all these years after deserting me on Taris?”

“Well,” Griff says, “that and uh... could you please get me out of here? You've got a tough looking friend there.”

Flattery will get you nowhere. “The Sand People said you can go. Go on to Anchorhead.”

“What, no speeder escort?”

“Griff…” Mission growls warningly.

“Okay, okay,” he backs off, “I should just take what I can get.” He doesn’t move, though.

“What?” Mission says brusquely, “Is there something else?”

“Uh... well, I... I wanted to thank you,” he says, “and, uh, you look like you're doing well. Financially, I mean.” Good grief. “Say... um... could you spare me a few credits to get back on my feet?”

“You... you're hitting me up for credits?” Mission says in disbelief, “I don't believe this! Lena was right about you, Griff! We should have just left you to the Sand People! Don't talk to me anymore - ever!” And she storms away. Carth looks where she goes, and thinks about following her, but changes his mind. She doesn’t go far, anyway.

“Huh…” Griff says, “...that didn't go well. Sis always was a little too fiery for her own good. She'll cool down in time.”

“Don’t be so sure.”

“Ah, she'll be okay,” he says nonchalantly, “We've had our fights before. Too bad, though. I could really have used a helping hand right now.” He pauses, and I can feel something change in his expression. “Say, uh…”

“Don’t even think about asking me for credits.”

Then his expression shifts again. “Huh - I... uh... guess you've been talking to Lena, too. That's okay - I'll figure out a way to get by without your credits. I always do. Besides, I've already got a job lined up for me.” Then why bother asking me for credits? “Greeta, the manager over at the Czerka supply shop, said I could come work for him if I ever get tired of the mines. I think I'll go take him up on his offer.

“You know, maybe there's something else you can help me with.” I’m too nice for my own good. “I need to talk to a guy first and set up the details, but if you're interested in a job come see me in Greeta's shop.” He starts to go, and passes Mission on his way out. “Goodbye, Mission,” he says, “Uh... I'm glad you're not dead.” Mission huffs at him and turns away as he leaves.

The Jawas aren’t too far behind him. “They’re on their way back to Anchorhead,” Bastila says.

“Yeah, we’ll want to head that way in a bit,” I say, “Iziz, their chieftain, says he knows something about the Star Map. I’m gonna check on Mission, you guys get a head start. HK, how many hours until first sunset?”

“Answer: Approximately four hours, master.”

“Cool. Depending on how far the Star Map is, we may want to stay another night before we get it.” Bastila, Carth, and HK start going toward the exit. I go to Mission. “Hey, you good?”

“I can’t believe him!” she says, more angry than sad, “I’m happy Griff’s alive but I’m mad at him right now.”

“Understandable.”

“And I don't know what kind of job he's got for you, but I don't trust him. It's probably just another scam!”

“Well, I’ve got to stop by the Czerka office anyway to trade in the Chieftain’s gaffi. I’ll see what he has to say, but I won’t make him any promises.”

Mission sighs. “You’re a good person,” she says, “Maybe if there were more people like you, Griff wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Somehow I doubt that. A scam artist is a scam artist. Life situation may affect the type of scam or who they scam, but they will scam just the same. But Mission doesn’t need me to tell her that. She knows. “We’ll never know, I guess,” I say, “Come on, let’s get back to Anchorhead.”

“Yeah, this heat is killing me.”

#knights of the old republic #star wars #kotor #fiction #autistic artist #star wars knights of the old republic #kotor fic #specs writes stuff #rena visz #oc #fem!revan #ls!revan #carth onasi #bastila shan #mission vao #griff vao #hk-47 #tatooine #chapter 60

[sunsetscurving]

CHASING STARS

Ch. 2

ao3 link

In a world where reincarnation is common and expected, people stopped to care for a reason or how many times they already lived – they have no memory of their past life anymore. But Lucas Lallemant can feel that this isn’t his first life, some shreds of his former life still present in his new one. He has this feeling that something from his past life tied him so much to it that he has to find it again in his new life. Something. Or someone.

“Idriss!”

Eliott nearly stumbled over his own feet as he entered the flat he shared with his best friend. His eyes were literally shining brighter than the sun, his heartbeat still so rapid as if he would see Lucas again and again and again after all these years.

“Putain, Eliott. Have you seen a ghost or why are you running around, screaming like a little boy?”

Idriss came around the corner, drying his hands with a towel. He was probably washing the dishes right now but Eliott didn’t care. He only wanted to tell his best friend about what just happened.

“At first I also thought it was a ghost. But then the ghost laughed.”

Idriss’ towel fell from his hand and his jaw dropped.

He knew.

“No way”, his best friend breathed and came towards Eliott, holding his best friend who was literally bouncing on his feet on the shoulders to still his nervous movements. And Eliott looked into Idriss’ eyes, tears filling his own because he was just so utterly happy that the day he so badly awaited was finally here.

“He is here, Idriss”, whispered Eliott quietly, “Lucas is back.”

It felt so good to speak out his name again. He didn’t dare to talk about him with Idriss all these years because it would always remind him of the biggest mistake of his immortal life. But now he got a second chance. Some higher force decided that it was right to send Lucas back, to reincarnate him and give Eliott another chance.

And he wouldn’t do the same mistake again.

“Are you really sure that it is him?”, asked Idriss now, raising his eyebrows at Eliott. Idriss was a few years older than Eliott and he also sometimes acted like that. Well, Eliott didn’t really know how old Idriss actually was.

Because he was also immortal.

The flat sharing with a mortal person who didn’t know about Eliott’s immortality would also be kind of difficult. And because of this, he was even more happy that he found Idriss all these years ago.

“Of course I am sure that it is him”, said Eliott with a protested voice, slightly tearing himself away from Idriss’ tight grip, “I would recognize him everywhere.”

“I know that, Eliott. But our mind can always play us some sort of tricks. And maybe it’s not Lucas after all but someone who looks similar to him.”

“Idriss, I heard his voice. I saw him laughing with his friends. 19 years passed, I know. And memories can fade away. But not this memory. Not the memory from him.”

Eliott raised his chin in a defensive manner.

“I swore that I will never forget him and that I will find him again. And now I did.”

Idriss sighed deeply and leaned himself against the wall.

“Okay, let’s just assume that this really is your Lucas—”

“We don’t assume it, it’s the truth.”

“Stop interrupting me, Eliott.”

“Then stop spilling bullshit.”

Eliott crossed his arms and challenged Idriss to continue talking with this gaze. Idriss took another deep breath and tried to stay calm.

“If this really is Lucas, have you thought about the possibility that he… well, maybe doesn’t fall in love with you in this life?”

Eliott’s arms fell to the side and the light in his eyes left.

No, Eliott hadn’t thought about this possibility.

And the words from Idriss, the truth was some kind of punch in his gut.

“Eliott…”

Idriss must have realized what these words just did to Eliott because he was approaching the other boy carefully, laying a hand on Eliott’s shoulder.

“I know that you’re excited about seeing him again. I know that you still love him, maybe even more now. But… but maybe this is not the course of Lucas’ life anymore”, said Idriss carefully while watching Eliott and his reaction.

Eliott was standing quietly in front of Idriss for some seconds, staring at the opposite wall. But then his gaze was landing on Idriss and he took a step back, out of Idriss’ reach.

“There was a reason for his reincarnation. And the reason was love. Our love.”

“Doesn’t this sound a little selfish? That he is only reincarnated because of you…?”

Eliott had enough.

He stormed past Idriss but he was too slow, Idriss grabbing his arm before Eliott could escape him and his stupid bullshit.

“You know nothing about mine and Lucas’ love and how strong it is. I’m not obsessed with Lucas or anything like this, this is not about me being selfish.”, spat Eliott with tears in his eyes, “This is about a second chance. For me and for Lucas. I would have gladly died for Lucas in the first place, reincarnation or not. I just… want him to be happy.”

Eliott couldn’t blame Idriss, he never had a love that strong that could beat time and space and even death. But Eliott just knew that Lucas and he were meant to be that, that Lucas’ new life was also connected to him.

“That is true”, said Idriss calm and looked at Eliott, “I know nothing about you and Lucas. But you cannot force Lucas to be with you.”

Eliott took a deep breath and closed his eyes, one tear rolling down his cheek. He had to stop thinking that everything was going to be like their former time. Lucas was not the old Lucas, his previous life didn’t matter anymore, maybe he was not even gay at all. Eliott was mostly so angry because Idriss was right.

“I just missed him so fucking much. And the possibility to hold him into my arms again or just talk with him and see his smile…”

“I know, Eli. I know.”

And with that, Idriss just pulled Eliott into a hug and Eliott was grateful that his friend didn’t send him to the moon long ago.

“And maybe Lucas’ reincarnation really is a second chance for you two. I just… wanted to warn you, okay? To not take any wrong steps you might regret.”

“I would never harm Lucas in any way. And if he doesn’t want to be with me… Then so be it”, Eliott said quietly, something like defense in his voice.

Idriss pulled away and looked at Eliott, now a tiny smile on his lips.

“But this doesn’t mean that you cannot try to win him back”, said Idriss and winked at Eliott who now also smiled again, wiping away the tear on his cheek.

“And who says no to Eliott Demaury, crush of the whole college?”

“Oh, shut up, Idriss”, said Eliott with a snort and punched Idriss playfully in the shoulder.

.

Eliott was falling down on his bed the second he arrived in his room.

His room, which was full of memories about Lucas and their time together.

Eliott often was afraid to close his eyes on some days, the picture of Lucas slowly dying in his arms haunting him day and night. Maybe this was also the reason why he needed to be with Lucas: To prove himself that he can do better, that he can protect the people he loved. He got another chance to do everything right and he would do anything to win Lucas for himself.

If Lucas would let him.

Eliott pulled out his phone and opened Instagram, his fingers slightly shaking while hovering over the keyboard. Lucas had posted a lot on his Instagram account back then, a lot about Eliott in general. But his Instagram account disappeared when he died and was chosen for reincarnation, like everything did connected to him and his former life.

lucallement

Eliott finally entered the name which was really present to him, which he searched for at least once a month in the first time after his death but hadn’t done so for the last years.

He took a deep breath before pressing enter.

And he exhaled when he found a profile.

His profile.

Eliott started to smile, his heart nearly beating painfully in his chest.

There were pictures from his friends and from the nature, from some dumb memes. And from himself.

Eliott opened one of these pictures, showing his friends and him in the middle, smiling directly into the camera.

Eliott zoomed into the photo, taking in the face of the boy he fell in love with so many years ago. He missed him so much.

He missed Lucas so much that it sometimes hurt.

And now he was back.

And Eliott was scared.

Idriss was right with what he said: Lucas was the one who had to decide if he would fall for Eliott or not.

And Eliott made a decision in this very moment.

He decided for himself that their past life didn’t matter anymore. It was gone, another lifetime. He had to live in the here and now and if he hadn’t known Lucas at all, the small boy would have caught his attention on the hallway of the college nevertheless. He had a weakness for smaller boys with messy hair and blue eyes.

Eliott would just get to know Lucas again. The new Lucas. Trying to win the other boy for himself like he did all those years ago.

This was a new start.

A new beginning.

And Eliott was scared. But he was also excited what this new chapter would bring.

#oh look #another chapter #because i won‘t update for the rest of the week and as a little thank you for being so supportive #ily guys #skam france #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #skam france fanfic #skam france fic #elu fic #elu fanfiction #chasing stars ff

[captainchrisfics]

The Book

About: A first person pov narrator released a book about S.H.I.E.L.D. and let’s just say she didn’t give it a stellar review after Natasha released all of the records. It struck a chord with Steve so he tries to confront the author, but ultimately she ends up comforting him instead.

Word Count: 2,901

“One of the best contemporary attempts at grappling with the unfortunate truth that even our heroes are human. This book is a triumph for unraveling and understanding the honest history of America.” -The New York Times

I leaned back in my office chair for support, absolutely astonished that my work had received such a positive review. My book about S.H.I.E.L.D.’s, for lack of a better word, shit-stained history was just recently released into the world. It was my first and I’d been working on it forever, although when Black Widow released all of their classified files it made my job a hell of a lot easier. Still, it felt like baring my soul to the whole world and allowing them to judge me, giving everyone with an opinion the opportunity to pick me apart. Much to my relief, most of the feedback was praise.

Publishing this book was more nerve-wracking and all-consuming than I could ever even start to explain- it’s taken years, but thankfully the countless late nights I spent typing away at my laptop paid off. After receiving my post as a history professor at NYU, I felt like I’ve been playing catch up constantly. It’s not that I’m under-qualified. Just that most of my colleagues were much older and more established than myself, which has been entirely daunting. But the success of my book has given me the leg up I needed to stop second-guessing if I belong at this desk.

I was pulled from my thoughts by an angry voice calling my name from down the hall and asking where my office was. I sat straighter, craning my neck to try to get a better look as I listened. “Where is she?” whoever it was repeated again, this time with more urgency and anger. Through the crack of my office door which hung ajar, I saw the silhouette of a man with a frame that made me feel dwarfed just looking at him.

The secretary surrendered once he slammed a hand on her desk, probably scaring the hell out of her. He took a step back from her and apologized profusely for his outburst in a guilt-ridden tone. Then, he stepped toward my door, slowly at first then all at once. I braced myself, trying to swallow every ounce of anxiety trying to burst from my stomach. He knocked on my door, pushing it open with an arm swollen with intimidating muscles, without waiting for my welcome.

He took a seat opposite me at the other side of my desk so quickly I didn’t have time to protest. I noticed he carried a copy of my book, one that was already so worn and filled with post-its popping out from all of its edges, even though it had to be a recent purchase. I thought, maybe he was a curious student at best? A crazed fan at worst? As I tried to rationalize what gave this man any right to storm into my office, all of my questions were answered when he took off his disguise (if you could even call it that, I don’t know how I didn’t recognize him sooner).

Without the raised hood and tinted sunglasses, it was apparent that the person sitting about two feet away from me was none other than Captain America himself. I cleared my throat, trying to sit straighter if it was even possible. Stunned, I closed my mouth and opened it again a few times before stuttering, “Steve Rogers, sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I reached across my desk as I extended my hand to him. I watched as it hovered in the air, shaking with my nerves while he stared for too long before finally meeting me in the middle for a handshake. “I wish it was under better circumstances ma’am,” he said in a tone that toed the line between measured and seething.

My eyebrows stitched together in confusion as I gulped down my nerves again. I certainly didn’t want to be on this super hero’s shit list. “I imagine it has something to do with my book,” I said, eyeing the copy in his hand.

“It is a gross assassination of an organization that has done more to protect you and millions of other Americans than you will ever know,” Steve asserted, cracking the spine as he opened the book too harshly. He read a number of my lines to me, followed by the well-worded critiques I assumed he’d scribbled on his notes.

“And this thing you wrote here about when my team and I rescued Bucky from Hydra- that isn’t even how it happened!” Steve went on, tossing a hand up in the air as if it gave his point any more power. He told me the story in a way I’d never heard it in any other account, but it wasn’t fair.

“Can I stop you there?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest with a little huff. Steve paused as he turned the page, the breath he’d sucked in to fuel his next rant sitting idle in his puffed chest. I pushed up my glasses, trying to appear more authoritative in the face of the super soldier. “I’ve dedicated the past few years of my life to following others’ research and doing my own extensively. I understand that you know the truth since you were there, but the rest of us weren’t so you can’t hold historians to your standard as a breathing primary source when we’ve been picking through false narratives and speculation since you crash landed in Antarctica.” I raised my eyebrows at him, inviting him to challenge me.

“With all due respect,” Steve said, though his tone would suggest otherwise. He was all but seething, the muscle tightening with the clench of his jaw gave him away despite his attempt to appear unbothered. “I’ve dedicated the past few years to ensuring you have that freedom and before that it was Peggy. We’re a part of that history and if you’re going to tell our stories then you should be telling the truth. I’m not saying you should know everything, but if you aren’t at least trying then why are you writing this book at all?”

I let Steve’s question hang in the air, familiar with the sharp look on his face. I’ve been teaching long enough to know when someone would always insist they were right. Especially in a field like history, where so much is left to interpretation, there’s so many disagreements and so many people who refuse to accept that they might be wrong. The sureness in his hard, blue eyes and tightness of his jaw told me he wouldn’t accept anything short of being right about this.

In an attempt to remain open to criticism. I sighed, leaning back in my chair as I waved a hand to signify he had the floor. “Go on,” I muttered. I had to give it to Steve, he made some great points. From his perspective, I could see how I hadn’t countered my bias as much as I could have and I was open to considering that I may not have every fact straight.

Some points however, like how he said I criticized Peggy Carter for failing to ensure there weren’t any double agents when that was often impossible especially in an organization as large as S.H.I.E.L.D., were unfounded. Steve went on and on as he vented more than anything, tearing each post it out after he said his piece and tossed them into my recycling bin. The pile was so high I worried they would start an avalanche. He reached a point where he was projecting his frustrations onto my work and misinterpreting what I meant, which was coincidentally when his voice started to raise and the veins on his forehead became more pronounced. Once Steve stopped to take a breath, I seized my opportunity to interject.

“Mr. Rogers, firstly allow me to thank you for your service. I should have earlier, but I was pretty caught off guard by all of this,” I laughed nervously, gesturing between the two of us. He nodded and muttered a quiet thank you, leaning back in the chair he barely fit in between the arms of. “Now,” I continued, not pegging Steve Rogers as the interrupting type. “You of all people should know the destruction S.H.I.E.L.D. caused, all of the damage they were capable of doing. I mean, for decades there were Nazis embedded in the structure of an organization meant to protect us and we were none the wiser,” I said, trying to refrain from using my lecture voice on a guy who could be my grandpa.

Steve cracked a smile, though I didn't get the joke. He was probably thinking about how I didn’t know the half of it- which was partly true. Nothing I could read could compare to his life experience. I had to stop my internal nerd from entirely reveling in the fact that such an important piece of living history was just an arm’s reach away from me. I had to stay on task, especially since I was defending myself and my work.

“I’m a historian first and an American citizen second, in my opinion. I want to pursue the truth, understand it and help others make sense of it, even if it paints my country in a poor light and especially when it is difficult to do so,” I said, gaining confidence with each moment he continued to listen to me. Steve nodded, seeming to find common ground with me on this sentiment at least. After all, he has the reputation of prioritizing his moral compass over the law and order even as a soldier.

“I apologize for any hurt or frustration my book has caused you and I assure you that some of your criticisms were just misunderstandings, maybe due to my presentation.” I bit my lip, always one to have trouble with actually admitting when I was wrong. Even so, Steve had a right to how my book made him feel and I felt an obligation to apologize for it.

I could see the hurt rise in his perfectly blue eyes again once I brought it up. Steve shrunk even more into the chair, looking like a dud firecracker that’d finally fizzled out. “It’s just that-” Steve’s voice caught in his throat, seemingly unsure of how to find its way out. He swallowed and started again. “I’m sorry if this is overstepping any bounds, ma’am. Your book just struck a chord with me. Since Peggy’s death,” his voice cracked, stopping him for a second as he composed himself. “I just miss her so much and…” Steve didn’t finish his thought. As the tears started to escape his eyes, he dropped his gaze to the floor.

It was strange watching a superhero break down. Sure, we always see their victories on every news station and even hear about their shortcomings on occasion. But watching Captain America cry, his shoulders shaking and his lungs gasping as he wept, somehow made me feel weak. Seeing the symbol of America’s strength, someone so intrinsically connected to this country, grieving the loss of Peggy Carter was almost appropriate. It didn’t stop my heart from trying to leap out of my chest or the yearning I had to wrap this stranger up in a hug until he could breathe again. Before I could process what I was feeling, let alone make an attempt to comfort him, Steve sat up straight again. He had a stoic expression and seemed to be begging me to ignore what had just happened with his puffy eyes. I couldn’t.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” I said softly, reaching across the desk to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. I tried not to notice how his muscle bulged, tightening uncomfortably at my touch. “I can understand how you could take my criticism of her creation as an attack on her character. Honestly, I love Peggy Carter so much,” I gushed, letting a little bit of that nerd loose.

“As a kid with a passion for U.S. history, you can imagine there aren’t many women to look up to. Fewer compare to her strength and courage. She’s such an inspiration to me and so many others, I never meant to speak badly of her.” I tried to maintain a steady tone as I held such intense eye contact with Steve, his eyes welling up with tears again.

Steve chuckled a little, though it was still so sad. “She was a badass huh?” he smiled as he remembered her fondly. Peggy had just died recently. It still must have been so raw for Steve, someone who knew her so well. I always thought their story was so interesting; the way they loved each other to each of their ends was the kind of fascinating story that made history so interesting to me.

That changed when Steve Rogers of all people stormed into my office. They weren’t just characters in my textbook. He was a real person whose strong jaw tightened when he was angry, who defended those he cared about, who cried until he couldn’t catch his breath. She was someone he loved so deeply, and so much more than that.

“Language,” I chastised jokingly. Steve grew tense and apologized, taken aback by my scolding. Watching him squirm only made me laugh harder. Once I reassured him I was only kidding, Steve seemed to think it was pretty funny.

“She definitely was,” I resigned as we grew serious again before launching into a story about how she fought fiercely on behalf of the first woman who was elected to Congress, defending her in the face of every press-concocted scandal. Steve’s eyes lit up as he laughed, saying that the Peggy he knew was no different. He told me about the time she punched some pig-headed soldier so hard he passed out after he’d called her Queen Victoria.

By the end of our meeting, which lasted nearly two hours even though it felt like minutes, we’d swapped so many stories it felt like I knew her. Steve caught his breath from laughing after I told him a particularly funny thing about a time she told off Howard Stark. He cleared his throat before saying, “Thank you for this.” I tried to brush it off and tell him not to worry about it, but Steve cut in. “Really, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt like someone gets it.” He reached across my desk and held my hand as if I was anchoring him. It sent sparks up like watching that firecracker reignite with my touch.

I just smiled at him, not quite sure where to go from here. Steve stood and I followed suit. We just looked at each other for what seemed like too long of a moment. I smiled awkwardly, ready to excuse us from this uncomfortable situation with the justification that I had a class soon, which wasn’t a lie. Instead, Steve pulled me close to his chest from across my desk as he wrapped his arms around me. I was immediately enveloped in a comforting safety. Steve seemed to radiate protection, even more so when you’re pressed so tightly against his chest you could almost feel his heartbeat. “Thank you again,” he whispered in my ear, causing my skin to erupt with goosebumps.

I nodded, feeling so small and feeble in comparison. I felt like that wasn’t good enough though. I mean, I know there’s no instruction manual for handling a superhero who stormed into your office before bursting into tears. Still, it didn’t feel like this was the way we were supposed to end. Steve pulled away, smiling at me so sweetly with a tenderness in those beautiful baby blues I couldn’t ignore.

Before I could think twice, my lips moved almost in muscle memory despite being so out of my depth. “I have to go teach a class soon,” I said too quickly as the words tumbled out of my mouth. I had to ask before I could get in my own way. Steve sighed and nodded slightly, stepping to the side to make room for me to leave. I couldn’t say if it was true, but I thought he looked disappointed with his eyes to the ground and the corners of his mouth drooping ever so slightly. Throughout our conversation, I noticed Steve seemed to be too stoic to read half the time.

Instead of grabbing my briefcase and making my way to the education building a few blocks over, I kept talking. “Would you maybe want to get coffee later? We could keep doing… whatever this is,” I concluded, nervously rocking from my heels to my tiptoes subconsciously. Steve perked up immediately, lifting his head to look at me with this adorable twinkle in his eye. He hid it behind his sunglasses before pulling up his hoodie again, looking nothing like any random guy walking down the street now that I knew he was Captain America. The next thing I’d have to expose S.H.I.E.L.D. for would be their pathetic disguises. Steve’s smile was crooked as he said, “I’d really like that.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers one shot #captain america #captain america fic #captain america fanfiction #captain america one shot #captain america x reader #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #imagine chris evans #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x reader #imagine steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #cevans