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last-starry-sky · 3 months

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pt 2 of innocent!reader x graves because @shotmrmiller's prompt continues to rot my brain

also: pov change? pov change.

NSFW - MDNI - MIND THE WARNINGS: (graves pov, big ol’ legal age gap, MANIPULATIVE bad man graves, i gave him a made up middle initial lol, corruption kink, dubcon(kissing and touching while reader is drunk, no sex in this part))

pt 1

There’s a silver cross hanging temptingly above your breasts when he picks you up.

You look so cute standing there on your porch, fiddling with your hair and dress, dropping your keys into your little matching purse. A sweet little peach that his mouth waters to bite into. Not yet though, he thinks as he turns off his truck. He opens the door, slamming it shut behind him. He knows that’ll catch your attention. As he rounds the hood he sees you staring at him, still wide eyed (excited, not nervous anymore) after all this time.

Not yet, he thinks walking through the fresh-mowed grass of your front lawn. He’s patient. He can wait; wait for you to want him as much as he wants you. Hell, maybe you’ll even ask for it, beg for it. He bites his lip thinking about what a pretty sight that would be. He smothers the thought as he nears the front porch.

“Waitin’ outside for me all alone, darlin’?” he says, watching you mess with your hair again. He’s trying not to let the lewd thoughts creep in, but you aren’t making it easy.

“Um, yeah,” you say softly, “Didn’t want to forget to lock the door.”

He quirks an eyebrow and leans against one of the posts that flanks the porch steps. So cool. Such a good actor.

“Doesn’t your dad usually-”

“He’s gone,” you ramble out, “Both of them. My parents. They, ah, went up to the lake for the weekend.”

You toy with the hem of your skirt again, not making eye contact. The old wood under your heels creaks as you rock back and forth. He cocks his head to the side, giving a gentle hum of acknowledgement. Nothing too eager or expecting, but enough to let you know he’s heard you.

He already knew where your parents were, of course. It was nothing anyone couldn’t gather from a little social media stalking, and he has plenty of time. Didn’t help that your mother posted just about everything on there. With pictures too. That’s how he knew that they had left mid-day, got there two hours later, and that now your mother was three margaritas deep and your father was working his way through a thirty pack with his fishing buddies in the middle of the lake.

“Hope y’all weren’t waiting for long,” he said with a smile, finally holding out his arm in expectation of a hug.

You smiled as you bounced into his arms. You melted into him, all stiffness and anxiety leaving once you were safe in his arms. You liked it when he greeted you like this. The tiny bit of chaste intimacy of it. He loved feeling you wrap your arms around him, bury your face in his chest and not-so-discreetly smell his cologne. It wasn’t all one sided, of course. He loved sliding his hand across your back, pulling you close enough to let him press his face into your hair.

Usually the moment only lasts a second, with one of your parents stepping outside to break the spell, telling you (him) to not stay out too late (like it mattered, they would be dead asleep long before you returned anyway), before he was chastely taking your hand or, more recently, leading you away with a hand on the small of your back.

Tonight’s hug was different. You pressed your whole body into him. He could have groaned at it; the feel your breasts and stomach squishing against his chest, your hips slotting against his. Fuck, you could be such a tease sometimes and you didn’t even know it. It was enough to take down a lesser man, but Commander Phillip A. Graves wasn’t some horny teenager that’s going to pop a boner the second a pretty girl touches him. Not that you made it easy. Lord, the depraved things he thought of doing with you when he was alone.

You leaned back in his arms, looking up at him so open and sweet with that pleased smile on your face. He can’t help but return with one of his own. You’re just too much sometimes. It takes a lot to not stare down your dress at your tits. Instead, he looks at your necklace. The delicate, silver thing dances in the porch light. He ran his fingers along the chain, stroking at your neck as he did, the roughness making you blush.

“Haven’t seen this before,” he said slyly, tugging at the chain. “New?”

You shook your head, bottom lip caught in your teeth. “My mom’s. Family heirloom,” you said softly.

“Looks pretty on ya, sweets,” he said letting it fall back into the crease of your neck.

Your skin is dewy, glistening with sweat. You have to move the chain back into place from where it sticks. Funny that. It’s not even that hot today.

He pulls away, hand still on your lower back. “Should get on our way, then,” he says with a shake of his head back toward the truck. “Reservation’s in half n’ hour. Can’t be late for our anniversary dinner now.”

The whole of your anniversary date plans were a closely held secret. He’d told you the date but hadn't let you pry a single detail out of him. He’d planned everything out the night he saw your mom RSVP to the weekend at the lake. Found a romantic little restaurant, scheduled a reservation to fit with a showtime to that movie you’ve been talking about, even bought that cute little dress for you.

It was all worth it to see you now, after enduring your sad, silent pouts. Your eyes were as big as saucers from the second you walked in. This was clearly the most expensive restaurant you’ve ever been in, if he could read how hard you clung to his arm, nails digging through his suit jacket, as the hostess seated you. You trembled as you waited for him to pull out your chair in the dark alcove he’d asked for. After the hostess had left you with the menus you looked at him nervously.

“Som’ wrong, sweets?”

“Just . . .” you whispered, looking around nervously. The candlelight illuminated the underside of your face, highlighting your concern. “I hope I’m dressed nice enough. Didn’t know this place would be so fancy.”

It actually hurts him how much you doubt yourself. As if anyone could (or even would with him by your side) take issue with you. No one can compare to you. Not in his eyes. Your fresh face and simple beauty blew everyone else in the room out of the water.

“Prettiest one here. Besides, only the best for my girl.”

The waitress returned shortly after, taking your drink order. He surprised you again by ordering a whole bottle of champagne. For the table, he explained; for the both of you, for your anniversary.

“But . . . I don’t drink, Phil,” you whispered across the table once the waitress had left, the cork popped and two glasses already poured.

Good lord, he thought, doesn’t even drink. What part of heaven did you fall from?

“Take a sip,” he urged, “If y’ don’t like it I’ll finish yer glass.”

You slid the flute slowly toward yourself, the pale yellow liquid fizzing streams of large bubbles up the sides. You were about to take a sip, when he interrupted you by reaching across the table with his own glass. You blushed again as you clinked your glass with his.

“To . . . our future,” he said after a moment's thought.

“To our future,” you repeated softly, that small smile returning to your face.

He kept his eyes on you as you delicately sipped the smallest bit of champagne. It took a lot to not drain his own flute. It was damn good, lightly sweet and pleasantly bubbly. Not his usual but worth it to get you to loosen up. For how expensive it was, it had better be amazing. Your eyes met his after you set your glass on the table, imprint of your lipstick marring the rim.

“What’d y’ think?”

“I like it. ‘s sweet,” you said sliding the glass back toward you, dabbing your spot of missing lipstick.

He couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. One sip and you were already hooked.

“Lemme know when an’ I’ll refill y’ glass,” he said scanning over the menu, trying to seem disinterested.

He watched you out of the corner of his eye take another small sip. Then another, and another and another until it was half gone. He had fun making small talk about your family and plans for college in the fall in between your sips. You had just started to broach into his plans: when he would be away for work and where he would be, when the waitress returned to take your dinner order. You sheepishly pushed your empty flute toward him.

He gave his order but once the waitress turned to you, you had to admit that you hadn’t even looked at the menu.

“Well . . .” the waitress said, pencil to her lip, thinking of something to suggest.

“What do you recommend with the champagne?” he interjected, handing over his menu. “She really likes it.”

“Do you like fish?” she said taking the menu out of his hand then turning back to you. You nodded. “We have a white wine and rosemary poached cod filet with a spring salad on the menu tonight.”

“Sounds delicious. I’ll do that. Thank you,” you said handing over your menu.

Three glasses later, your meals arrived. You were more open and flirty now, and hungry. You did well holding yourself back from plowing straight through your fish. He fed you bits of his steak in between your own food to take the edge off your drunken appetite. Not that it helped much. Once you’d cleared your own plate he started giving your every other piece off his plate. You held up well until he’d reached the middle of his steak. You grimaced with the next bite, washing the pink beef down with another long drink from your glass.

“W’as wrong? Don’t like it?” he questioned.

You shook your head. “It’s raw. Not used to how . . .” you stopped to swallow, “. . . spongy it is?”

He chuckled, cutting another slice of meat, enjoying watching the red juices spill out over the white plate. Old habits, he thought.

“Can’t waste a good piece’a beef now by cookin’ all the flavor out,” he said with a laugh as he bit the chunk of meat off of his fork, teeth bared in a true, wolfish grin. And oh, did he feel like a wolf tonight.

“Sorry,” you apologized, flustered, followed by another sip. As if you were in danger of wounding his pride. “I’m just used to how my parents cook. They like everything well-done.”

The waitress appeared again before he could respond.

“Have you two thought about any dessert for tonight?”

He watched you look excitedly back and forth from him to the waitress, almost vibrating in your chair. He took a wild guess that, yes, you did want dessert.

“Depends,” he said sitting back cooly, grin still not faded from his face, “What cha’ got?”

“We have cheesecake: either plain or strawberry, and a triple chocolate cake.”

You let a soft “oh” fall out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You clasped your hands over your mouth when you realized. Both he and the waitress had a short laugh at your expense.

“Chocolate lover?” she questioned. You nodded eagerly, the bottom of your face still hidden in your hands. “Then you’ll love it.” she said to you before turning to him. “Let me guess: one piece two forks?”

“Sounds perfect.”

He promised to “help” you with the cake once all three towering layers of it arrived, but he mostly busied himself with slowly sorting out the bill. He was content to let you enjoy your treat on your own, but you insisted on repaying his earlier kindness by feeding him a forkful across the table. He gave you credit where it was due, you made it almost all the way on your own. He only had to grab your hand to correct your aim in the last couple inches. He didn’t let you break eye contact then, either. He let you pull away, back to your chair, to blush as he chewed the little bite, wiping a smear of chocolate sauce from the corner of his mouth.

He was clean when the waitress came back with the receipt.

Like a true gentleman, he pulled out your chair for you when it was time to leave. He watched you stand up slowly, swaying slightly on your heels as you adjusted your purse and smoothed the back of your dress. That might be a problem. He didn’t need you falling on your face because he got you too drunk on your first nice date. He smoothly threaded his arm around your waist after you’d ambled around your chair. You looked up at him with surprise as he gave your hip a squeeze.

“Doin’ okay, darlin’?” he asked as he slowly lead you toward the door.

You nodded up at him, eyes still wide and almost teary. “Yeah just a little . . . dizzy.”

“Lean on me if y’ need,” he told you softly as he pushed open the restaurant’s front door for you.

It had rained while you were inside. The storm had passed, thankfully, but it left the sidewalk wet and the night sky covered in dark clouds. Not a single star peaked through. He felt you wrap your arm around his waist, a shiver racking your frame as you huddled against him.

“Cold?”

You nodded pathetically into his side. He pulled out of your grasp for a moment to shrug off his jacket. It wasn’t much, but it would cover you better than your little dress. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you shivered harder, all alone and cold in the night air. A sick part of him almost liked how weak you looked now. Almost.

“Here,” he said throwing it over your shoulders. “Better?”

You didn’t answer, only nodded again. You reached out the front to hold his hands as he closed the lapels around you. You breathed out a cloud of warm air as you stepped up to him. He swore that moment spun by for an age, your every action taking longer than the next. Maybe he just wanted to sear your every move into his memory. The way you pressed your hands to his ribs, feeling the small stutter in his usually tempered breaths. How he loosely held your arms, strong fingers urging you to draw further and further forward. You reached up and grabbed his tie, tugging his face gently down.

He knew what you wanted, but he was going to play gentle until you either begged for it or he broke. Whichever came first. He stopped his face a teasing inch away from yours. You breathed another hot, champagne-sweet breath across his lips. He closed his arms around you, caging you in, running his hands down your spine to the small of your back. Your lips were so glossy in the streetlight, begging to be-

“Phil,” you whined, interrupting his thought, “kiss me, please.”

Well shit, he thought, if you were going to be so polite.

It wasn’t much of kiss, if he was being honest. He let you lead, only leaning down that last, lonely inch, so that you could press a peck to his lips. You pulled away right after, shy and surprised. You just stood there in his arms, waiting for him to do something, assuming the worst.

“Phil?” you asked nervously, trying to step away. “Did I do something wrong? . . . I’m sorry-”

Wrong? Oh honey. You’d done nothing wrong. Opened the gates and let the predator in, yes, but you know what you’ve done, right? You’ve been walking this path since that night at the bonfire. His sweet little thing, caught in his snare.

He smirked. All he had wanted was for you to kiss him first. To initiate. To remember everything this way, even in your hazy, drunk memories. It would be easier this way. You were always such a good girl, doing what he needed you to do with just a bit of a push.

He pulled you back into him and slotted his lips over yours before you could react. He squeezed your hip, earning him a gasp, as he worked a line of kisses over your bottom lip. The heavy, oily taste of your lipstick filled his mouth. You groaned into his lips when he caressed your cheek with his other hand.

“Shit, yeah, baby. I’ll kiss ya,” he groaned, pulling apart just enough to speak before diving forward again.

You were melting against his hands, letting him kiss you as much as he wanted in the middle of downtown. It was a good thing that the rain had driven most of the usual crowd indoors. He thinks you would have rather died than face people on the street after they’d heard your audible whine as he tested your top lip with his teeth a bit too hard. He let you step out of his embrace after that, laughing it off. You were so cute when you were embarrassed; cheeks flushing pink and eyes glassy, lips kiss-bitten. He could just eat you up.

He pulled you close to him again by your shoulder as he urged you to continue your walk down the sidewalk. You acquiesced, leaning into the side of his chest with a sigh as you fell in stride with him.

“Only a little farther walk t’ the truck,” he said rubbing your shoulder to try and keep you warm. “Then we gotta hurry up to the movie.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, falling into your usual mode of silence and thought for the rest of the walk.

Your feet were sore by the time you got to the truck, so he lifted you up into your seat before climbing into his place on the drivers side. It had started raining again, too. He turned on the truck to get the heat rolling. He was buckled in and ready to pull out when he turned to you. He noticed you hadn’t buckled yourself in or turned the vents to face you like you usually did. You just sat, engulfed almost entirely in your seat, quietly twirling your necklace and watching rain hit the windshield.

“Darlin’?” he asked, flipping the middle console back so he could lean over to squeeze your knee.

That broke you out of your spell. You looked at him across the cab with those big eyes, tears about ready to spill over. The necklace sparkled in the overhead light once before you dropped it against your chest. With a wave and a soft “Come ‘ere,” you launch yourself against his side. Once you were back in his arms he petted down your back and held you as close as he could manage with your limbs awkwardly crumpled as they were.

“What’s wrong, sweetpea? Tell me what’s wrong. I’ll fix it. I promise,” he whispered honey-sweet into your hair as you sighed and shook against him. He managed to pull your legs over his lap so that your knees weren’t digging into his kidney and your heels into his leather seats.

“Won’t be mad?” you piped, almost inaudible from how much you were pushed into his shirt.

“‘course I won’t.” What could he have to be mad about?

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You sighed a long sigh, pulling yourself out of his dress shirt enough to look up at his gentle, smirking face. He followed your eyes when you looked down. Oh. His hand has been stroking from your knee to thigh, stopping at the hem of your dress. He was just trying to calm you. Honestly. He assumed his handsy behavior was bothering you. He was about to pull his hand away when you placed your hand on his.

Oh.

You pulled his hand down your leg until it was at the edge of your dress. The farthest he had ever touched you.

“Don't wanna go to the movie, Phil,” you whined, running your thumb over his knuckles as his fingers broke under the hem.

He pinched at the new, sensitive skin you’d allowed him access to. It didn’t stop you. Hell, you continued to push his hand farther under your skirt until, fuck, his hand stroked at what could only be the edge of your panties. You leaned against him and moaned. You were so sensitive it was boiling his brain.

“Phil, take me home. Please.”

“Sure you don’t want to go?” he joked, having to cover his ragged breathing with a laugh. It didn’t help that he chose to interpret your twisting grip on his forearm as your desire for him to move his fingers that little bit more to the right, barely touching your pussy through your underwear. “Been talking about it all-”

“Yes!” you keened, spine arching and hands balling into his shirt. “Yes, please. Just take me . . .”

“Where?” he asked sternly sliding his hand up the front of your panties, earning a shuddering moan, as he pulled away. He didn’t need to look at his fingers as they took hold of the steering wheel to know you were wet. He kept his eyes on you as he threw the truck in reverse, already rolling back. “Can’t do this here. My house or yours?”

You looked at him silently until a horn honk made the both of you jump. He slammed on the brakes and grabbed the rear view mirror to get a clear look at what was behind them. The little white truck he had almost backed into screeched out of the parking lot. He chuckled as he tipped the mirror back into position. Too bad for them they had a very noticeable vanity license plate. He would have to make a call about that later.

“Asshole,” he said with a smirk, holding you close as he carefully backed out; pulling onto the dark, wet street.

#mw2 #graves/reader #graves x reader #cod fanfic #starry writes #I continue my sinning ways by denying the smut to yall 😔#It will be in the next chapter though! I promise!!#vote in the poll if you want to influence how the next chapter will shake out

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umbrellatte · 2 years

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If I can request, I would like to ask if you could write a aidan or five where their girlfriend has schizophrenia and she has episodes where the voices get out of hand and they hurts her by giving her a very bad headache and she crumbled down on the floor with her back against the wall and she rocks back and forth trying to make the voices stop, and how she tries to make them to stop is by screaming out “stop” “go away” “leave me alone” “shut up” “no” and when the episode stop it’s like she’s emotionless because it takes a lot 9f her and Aidan or five has to help her with everything since it’s like her mind and body has shut down. If you think you can’t do it can you do one where Aidan finds his best friend and crush writing a poem and when he tries to see what it’s about she hides it but one day she left her poem notebook at his house and he looks through it to find most of the poems are about him and he plan out how he’s going to ask her out and he uses lines from her poems that’s he thinks fits her but he put them in a song and he plays it for her in his way to asl her out

ahhh omg, i loved the second idea, so i'll do that! unfortunately, i don't feel that confident or comfortable making the first one because i have so little knowledge on schizophrenia and i just don't feel comfortable writing about it at all, so i do hope you enjoy this one! dear lord, i'm not entirely sure on this, but hopefully you like it-

Beautiful Poet | A. Gallagher

pairings: aidan gallagher x fem!reader

synopsis: you are aidan's best friend whom he likes a lot. you happen to love him and express your feelings through secret poems you write which you left at his house. he read them and decides to use some lines to write a song to ask you out.

notes: this is not any school au whatsoever! just aidan as an actor, singer, un ambassador and youtuber. and some poems here are from the internet, some from his songs, some by me! the song used here is dandelions by ruth b., i thought it really fit i didn't feel lile using aidan's songs, it felt weird for some reason.

disclaimer: aidan is above 18 in all my fics unless stated otherwise!

You had created a bunch of poems, rhyming or not. Most of them made for your best friend and crush. Like this one,

That glint in your eyes—

Is my beautiful star.

You look of sunshine,

On a blue day.

(latte's poem)

Or like this one,

I don't think you will ever fully comprehend,

How you've made all my dreams come true,

Or how you've opened my heart,

To the love and wonders it can do.

(internet)

or this one too,

A beautiful rose for you,

A love so true,

That i feel, when looking at you.

(latte's poem)

and another.

Something about your smile that just freaks me out

Can't help but feel that my heart will give out

Beating heart in my chest, it's gettin' louder

(4th of july, a.g)

again, another poem.

Fireworks in the sky,

Shining in those eyes,

Beautifully green,

As I've always seen.

(latte's poem, inspired by 4th of july and blue neon)

as usual, another one.

In a field of dandelions,

I wish on each one,

I wish for you to be mine, forevermore.

(dandelions inspired poem)

lastly, the one you wrote today in your notebook, they day you leave said notebook in aidan's house.

I've heard that love comes once in life,

I'm quite sure that you are that sweet love,

Cause breathing gets harder with you,

My dear Aidan, what I say is true.

(dandelions inspired poem)

Just to name a few of the poems you've made. There are more, obviously, but these were what caught Aidan's eyes. He saw the many hearts you drew below each page with a "For Aidan" with them as well.

He saw how you loved him as much as he did you. He loved you so much he decided to use your poems as a way to confess his long lasting love for you. Days turned to weeks, which turned into months. After a good one to two months, he had finished everything and had a concert planned.

Being the good friend and crush he was to you, he gave you a ticket himself instead of having you buy it. “Awe, thanks Aidan, you didn't need to do that.” you smiled, taking the ticket.

“No worries on it. You will be there, right?”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world.”

The day of the concert, he sang his songs, leaving that one song he wrote for you, for last. An hour or so passed and now it was time for that song. “Hello everyone! This song is dedicated to a special someone of mine!”

He began to sang the song, until the words sounded familiar. Those were the words on your poems. It hit you. He's read your poems.

“I'm in a field of dandelions. Wishing on every one that you'll be mine, mine” he sang out the last part.

The song ended and he started to speak. “[Name]! I love you! Could- could someone please bring her here? Thank you!” You found yourself being brought by concert people on the stage, people cheering here and there.

“[Name], i love you so much. For a long time now. You're my best friend and i don't wanna lose you, but I'm taking the risk. Will you be my girlfriend, [Name]!” he shouts into the mic, his voice echoing around the place.

You stare at him. “I...Aidan..yes! Yes, oh my god! Aidan what? I-” he comes close to you, and puts the mic down. He whispers, “Can i kiss you?”

You nod vigorously, and he does. He kisses you, with gentle loving passion as the crowd whoops and cheers. “My beautiful poet. I love you. And i loved your poems for me. I hope you don't mind that i used them for the song though.”

Laughing out with tears in your eyes, you shooke your head, showing that you didn't mind. “Thank you for those beautiful poems, [Name].”

#latte's posts 🌹#latte's fics #aidan gallagher #aidan gallagher imagine #aidan gallagher x reader

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lizardrosen · 9 months

Text

Even on the Pith of Life

It’s pretty much a given by now that Polonius won’t be in the office most of the time, though he tries to at least make it on Thursdays to help Claudius wrap up any looming deadlines before the weekend. One day he comes in looking even more tired than what has become his new normal and when Claudius asks about it he heaves a sigh, but with the anticipation of an actor embracing the opportunity to put on a show.

“Poor Ophelia refused to leave Caroline’s side after visiting hours ended. I mean it, not for love or money would she let go of the bedframe, and she screamed if anyone else tried to touch her. She wasn’t going home until Mommy did.” He sounds equal parts exasperated and proud of her stubbornness.

“That’s my girl,” Claudius answers with a small grin. “So what did you do?”

“Carro saved the day as always — she said she was going to sleep and if Ophelia went to sleep in the waiting room they’d only be separated by a door and would be holding hands in their dreams.”

“So when Ophelia was finally out for good you scooped her up and drove her home finally,” he guesses.

“Only for her to throw a fit when she woke up in her own bedroom? No, sir, not on your life! I slept in the chair right next to her so she could use my leg as a pillow — not that you get much sleep like that when your bones are as old as mine are.”

“You’re only three years older than me,” Claudius points out, and Polonius continues like he hasn’t heard.

“The orderlies were very understanding about it; one of them even brought a blanket for us to share.”

“You’re a really good dad, you know.”

“Oh, my dear lord…” Polonius seems about to brush off the observation and get started on his work just so he won’t have to think about it anymore, but Claudius stops him with a hand on his arm.

“No, I mean it, you’re one of the best fathers I’ve ever seen in action. I’m not likely to have any kids of my own so my opinion only counts for so much, but—”

“Who knows, you might still find someone. You’re not a bad catch.” Claudius shrugs lightly. “Not likely,” he says again. Everyone knows he’s married to his work. “Not every father would stay up all night for his little girl. Even if she doesn’t remember later, it makes a difference that you did that for her.”

“I hope so. I hope even more that it makes a difference that she got to do that for her mother before— before—” His voice trembles too much to continue.

“Oh, Polonius.” He stands and tugs the arm he’s already holding onto so he can give his friend a proper hug.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he says, barely above a whisper.

Claudius isn’t the same man who could promise that everything would be okay. “I don’t know either, but I’ll be here for whatever does happen. You don’t have to face this alone.”

He knows his name isn’t on the visitor log nearly as often as anyone else’s. Even his brother makes time and he’s in charge of the entire country, so he really doesn’t have any excuse. When he does go to see Caroline it’s in the company of Polonius, and he’s usually the one to steer their conversations to something lighter when he senses that one or all three of them will crack otherwise. Polonius almost always shoots him a grateful look when he saves them, and Claudius always saves that look in his heart.

The truth is, he’s bad at this and he hates it. Every time he sees her she’s a little paler, a little thinner, and he gets a little more afraid. Of course, the changes look even more dramatic when his visits are weeks apart, which still doesn’t compel him to come any more often. Cowardly? Oh yes, but he knew this about himself already.

Caroline has been floating somewhere between recovery and death for three months now. He thinks the balance is tilting towards the latter, and even worse, he thinks the waiting game is killing them all slowly. Grief before the fact, made worse by the hope that maybe it’ll turn out okay, and on his worst days he thinks he’d rather skip to the end.

The next thing of note that happens is Ophelia’s fifth birthday half a month later, celebrated in a hospital so her mother can join in, but still brimming with joy.

Laertes hasn’t stopped talking about his present, which is the first one he’s ever bought with his own allowance that he saved up for months until he had enough for the perfect thing. He keeps asking if anyone wants a hint no matter how many people tell him it’ll be better for his sister to be a complete surprise.

Naturally his is the first gift to be opened so the poor kid doesn’t burst from the excitement. He wrapped it himself in blue and gold, though Polonius evidently came in later with strategically placed bows to cover the gaps where the packaging peeked through. A good dad, Claudius thinks again. The big reveal is a set of play jewelry: sticker earrings, chunky plastic necklaces, and waxy lipstick. Gertrude whispers to Claudius that this last won’t stay for longer than two hours, and less if she eats anything in that time, but that’s about the time a kid really needs to be wearing lipstick anyway.

Laertes jokes that he might borrow some of her necklaces to look fancy sometime, and if Claudius privately suspects he’s not entirely joking, he sees no reason to point that out. Ophelia defends her rightful property and they wrestle each other onto their mother’s bed, who laughs harder than anyone else. But then she coughs harder than she has this whole visit and labours to catch her breath again.

The air grows somber on the instant. Both siblings slide off the bed without being told and look on anxiously while Polonius sits down beside her to rub her back and speaks to her in low comforting tones. It’s obvious how much he loves this woman, and how scared he is, but eventually she gives a little nod and a thumbs up. She still looks worn out, and no one knows just what to say, but then Gertrude nudges Hamlet forward with his present.

“The wrapping was supposed to be a flower but I know green is your favorite color so I couldn’t decide. I hope it’s okay.”

“He wanted it to be a fern,” Gertrude explains, “but my decorating skills aren’t that advanced.”

Ophelia looks at it for a moment and says “It’s a cabbage, I love it,” with a decisive nod. She’s careful with the tissue paper to preserve its shape and finally reveals a set of finger puppets — a clown, a mermaid, a lion, and a ballerina.

“The harlequin is me because I’m going to be like Yorick someday. You’re the ballerina—”

“No, she’s a superhero, I just decided.”

Hamlet’s grin grows huge. “Perfect! She’s prettier than the princess they had, too, she’s got the right color hair.”

“Ugh,” says Ophelia, “Why are the princesses always blonde?”

“Hey, I was a blonde princess once,” Gertrude points out. This is technically untrue; her father is a marquis, but when you’ve just turned five all princesses grow up to be queen, so that settles the question for her.

“Then Laertes is the lion — a little scary but brave and loyal.” Laertes dutifully roars to demonstrate.

The rest of the presents go quickly enough; the adults all brought the kinds of things adults think five year old girls like, and then it’s time for the cake — chocolate with strawberries and five candles on top.

“If you blow out all the candles in one try you’ll get your birthday wish,” says Polonius as he sets down the cake.

“Unless you tell what it was, then you’ve just wasted a whole wish!”

“Laertes!” It’s sweet how affronted Polonius sounds. “Don’t tease her! How would you have liked that when you were her age?”

“But it’s not teasing if it’s the truth! I’m just giving a fair warning like any big brother would.”

“Yes, it sounds like someone was an only child,” Claudius adds, and that gets under his skin like he knew it would.

“Well! As a matter of fact, yes, I was an only child, but I don’t see what that has to do with—” He stops talking when his wife reaches over to squeeze his knee.

Ophelia isn’t even bothered by any of it. “It’s okay, I’ve already got my wish picked out and I’m not gonna share it with anybody even after it comes true.” She sucks in a big breath and mouths some words that Claudius is too polite to try to parse, and shuts her eyes tight to blow out the flames.

Five is old enough to be past that awkward boundary land of toddler and child, and old enough to begin differentiating the kind of person someone will later become. The ability to form and retain opinions is already well-established, but five is better than four at articulating them.

For all that, it’s still a pretty small number and Ophelia has no trouble extinguishing all the candles. Everyone cheers claps but she pays less attention to that than to her mother. In the way she grabs Caroline’s hand and gives a bravely comforting smile, every adult can guess what this little girl wishes for more than anything. In that moment he catches the thought they’re all trying not to have: how many more birthdays will she be here for?

Later, as Polonius helps Ophelia pack up all her new toys and clothes and Gertrude ties Hamlet’s shoes, Claudius is content to sit back and watch all the activity from the outside. He supposes it could make him sad and lonely but he’s used to it. He’s just glad he can be here. It means he’s the last one out the door, but Caroline calls him back.

“No, Claudius, sit for a moment.”

He does, and at first neither of them says anything. “I’m sorry I haven’t been visiting you nearly as often as any of the others…”

“Oh hush, you’ve been helping to look after my kids and I can’t thank you enough for it. Besides, I didn’t expect to be here for so long, you’d think three visits from you would be enough for me to be out of here by now.”

“Right. I feel like we’re all just waiting for things to go back to normal,” he admits, “but I don’t think it’ll be the same normal as before, will it?”

“No, that’s exactly it. But God, I’m so sick of this stupid hospital room! I’m sick of jello and bedpans and feeling like my chest is about to cave in. And I’m just plain tired all the time, too.”

“Oh, Caroline, I’m so sorry.”

“But listen, none of that is what I wanted to talk to you about. Polonius — you love him, don’t you?”

Does he? He’s never thought of it in those terms before so he really couldn’t give a direct answer without thinking about it some more. “You know, I think I might. He’s very important to me and I’m a better person for knowing him, so if that’s love I’d have to say yes. I can— I can stay away from your husband if I’ve crossed a line. I promise you, we’ve never done anything together.”

“No, that’s not what I’m getting at. If you stay away I swear to you I will die faster so I can haunt you specifically. He’s going to need people to hold him steady and I can’t think of anyone better than you, Claudius.”

“Oh. ‘Die faster’. Do you really think that’s how this is going to end?”

She gives a wan smile and he really looks at her, how pale and how skinny she’s become. “If I were going to be healthy again I’d be there by now. My organs are shutting down, but I’m just glad I got to be here for my daughter first.”

“God. Can I give you a hug.”

“Please do. Careful of my ribs.” After, his cheeks are wet from his tears or hers. “Don’t forget, look after them.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

#shakespeare #not more native to the heart #my writing #hamlet #claudius #polonius #laertes #ophelia #gertrude #ship: thanks dear my lord #illness and death mention in this one but no actual death yet #also this one is a little over 2k so it's a lot longer than the others in this series

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

Hopefully, this is not too vague... I was wondering if you could do fluff with Molly; his nickname for the reader is 'princess'. (I have had a rough couple weeks, found out some bad news regarding my dad's health, and am just wanting a little pick-me-up. You are literally my favorite writer of the lavender tiefling trio.)

A load of fluff with some hinted spice coming right up. Sorry about your dad, sweetie and hope things take a more positive turn. Either way, I hope this is the pick-me-up you're looking for. 😘

You’re no stranger to waking up alone but never does it stop you from reaching out to the spot next to you. When you’re not met with a soft groan or arms wrapping around you, pulling you close begging for another five minutes of peace you know your lavender tiefling has begun his day before you. Rolling over onto your back you stretch taking in a deep breath. Time to get ready for the day, maybe find some breakfast? Breakfast sounds nice.

Mollymauk walks down the beaten path, a skip in his step and a small bouquet of wild roses clasped in his hand. He’s been up and about for a good hour now and like the good carney he is he’s working on quite the show in his mind; a show that requires the aid of a pretty face, charming smile and honeyed words he alone cannot provide. No he needs assistance and if he plans on getting this assistance he better work for it. Okay, maybe it’s not his plan. Maybe this is all just the result of a major fuck up on his end but still, it will make for some good fun… if all goes well… and you agree… The fact he gets to pamper you is a huge bonus. It’s been a while since he’s gotten the chance to show you just how much you mean to him.

Could Molly just ask for your help? Of course he could. And would you agree to join him on this endeavour? How could you refuse that devilishly handsome man? But where’s the fun in that. Let’s keep things interesting. Raise the stakes a little bit and see where his charm will get him. Or perhaps more, see how long it takes you to catch on tp the mess he made and pray to the Moonweaver you’ll be merciful. A test of his charm perhaps? Whatever excuse best justifies his actions and desires to spoil you rotten.

Stretching your arms with one final yawn you leave your tent. It’s too early to be up but you best keep an eye on your tiefling before he gets himself thrown into jail and you have to break him out… again. Wandering the camp the other members of the Fletching and Moondrop Carnival of Curiosities are waking up and going about their morning business at their own paces. You search for Molly but when you don’t find him you take to the road, following it towards the town. If he’s caused any trouble there you’d find out soon enough.

A lovely melody reaches Molly’s ears. He knows exactly who it belongs to and hears you before he sees you. All he needs to do is follow your song. Curving over the elevation of the path he spots you, lost in thought. Smile on his face he approaches you, flowers behind his back, and joins in whistling along to the melody. The way your eyes light up at the realisation of his presence are enough to make his heart melt knowing that one creature could look upon him with such unconditional love.

“Good morning, your royal highness.” Mollymauk takes a bow befitting of greeting royalty if not a little exaggerated and offers you the flowers. While he tries to keep his gaze on the ground you catch him peaking for your response as you take the flowers from his grasp breathing in their scent.

“Good morning to you too. And thank you, I should say? What’s the occasion?” You ask, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth but you can’t help feel a little suspicious at Molly’s very deliberate theatrics.

“Can a most loyal servant not present his beloved princess with flowers?” Molly rises and you get the slightest flash of fang from the smile he offers you.

“You know I am never one to deny your gifts and gestures of affection. What I’m referring to are your apparent needs for theatrics.” You speak with eloquence feeling yourself slipping into the same act he’s putting on. Dammit Mollymauk, for playing into your actor side and letting you slip up into the role he’s setting you up for. You know damn well he’s aware of what he’s doing.

“I am merely your humble servant. A humble servant with impeccable manners.” You snort as Molly offers you his arm. You lace yours through his and he begins leading you back the way you came.

“Impeccable manners you say? Because I recall not but two nights ago copious amounts of drinks, illegal gambling and theft were involved. And let’s not even mention the… desecration of the fountain within the gaze of the Platinum Dragon’s statue.”

“You say that as if those of noble birth do not partake in such activities, princess.” Molly counters. Touché. As you’re about to take a step to the right fork of the road Molly gently pulls you into the left direction instead. Confused you give him another suspicious look but he hushes you leading you down the path.

You find yourself retreating within your thoughts trying to pinpoint whatever shenanigans Molly is up to, planning or has been up to and why the need to be secretive instead of just telling you. Molly couldn’t hope for a better moment for you to stop your interrogation for he fears any more prodding around for answers and he will spill the beans and come clean. He can’t hide a single thing from you when you’re determined and he knows it.

The path slowly turns from trodden earth to more fine sand until it fades into the beach. The sound of waves and a seagull or two make for a pleasant setting. You see just far enough away from the shoreline as to not become victim to the tides, is a basket set on top of a blanket. Molly leads you over, guides you to sit upon the blanket gracefully before plopping down himself with much less show. Within the basket you spot several packed goods. Molly takes a few out and sets them down upon the blanket, unwrapping them as he goes. Some bread, a selection of fine jams, some cheese and delicious sugary sweet pastries.

“Okay, time to drop the act. While I appreciate all this, what did you do and how bad is it?” Molly takes out a bottle of what looks like expensive champagne along with two glasses and pours them, handing one to you.

“What makes you say that?” Molly takes a sip playing it cool and innocent.

“The top shelf bottle of champagne that is very much above our collective pay grades. Where did you even get this?” You take a sip. It’s not bad but not the greatest you’ve ever had either. A weird taste that can only be suitable for some upscale party or the nobility passes out to their guests to impress them simply because of the associated name and or price tag. What can you say? Rich people.

Molly hesitates but drops the innocent act. Best he comes clean now. You’ve caught on fully. Game over. But that definitely doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this delicious breakfast with him, can you? Mollymauk takes a slice of the fresh bread, adding a nice layer of strawberry jam and takes a bite. At least the expensive jam was worth the money. Then again, it wasn’t his money that paid for it. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t money well spent.

“Now, I need you to promise me one thing first, love. Promise me you’ll let me tell you the whole thing before you judge my poor decision making.”

“I can do that.” You lean back and relax taking one of the pastries and taking a bite. Bearclaws with cinnamon? Delicious. Let’s hope for Molly’s sake it will keep your judgement somewhat at bay.

“When we were doing our usual rounds and you were off on your own I may or may not have let it slip to someone who happens to be part of the local nobility, several someones to be more precise, that you may or may not be a princess in hiding. And I may or may not have played a little bit too deeply into the story…”

“Okay, that’s not actually that bad?” Just wait for the second part. It gets worse. On second thought. He may be regretting telling you and not just convincing you to hide away for the next few days in town until you’re back on the road.

“And these poor suckers may have fact checked it finding some evidence of a princess from another continent who supposedly is traveling in disguise. They came to see the show and I want you to remember they left a most generous donation along with an invitation for you to attend a ball held in your honour.” Molly awaits your response as you stop mid bite.

“So they left an invitation for a princess? What about it? Just don’t show up and done.”

“That would work if the local lord did not gently hinted at exposing said princess and sending the guards to return them to their family as they ran away and the good favour of either side of that royal family should greatly benefit this town. I’m sorry, princess but your presence has been demanded.”

Okay… This is bad. You do not feel like being hunted by the guards and it’s not like you can make an inconspicuous escape now people might look at you as royalty. You set down the pastry clasp your hands together closing your eyes. You inhale and exhale deeply as Molly briefly fears for his life.

“You… really need to learn to hold that tongue of yours, Molly. It’s getting you in all sorts of trouble.” He bites back a comment about using that tongue of his for plenty of other good things. He’s having trouble reading where you stand on this all and doesn’t know wether you’re upset with him or disappointed or if he has to be the one running for his life soon.

“Let’s talk to Orna and get some appropriate dress for the occasion ready and wearable even if that means she’ll have to sew us into our garments.” You sigh.

“Us?” He questions and he does not like the mischievous look on your face. Whatever you’re plotting, he hopes you have mercy on his soul.

“Oh, I will not be attending on my own. No, a princess does not go anywhere without their loyal servant. A princess needs their escort to attend to their every whim.” You hold your chin high as you move to sitting on your knees pushing your palm flush against his chest exercising a little pressure to push him to lean back onto his elbows.

“Every whim you say?” Molly asks with a devilish grin as you swing one leg over him gently keeping him in place with your body and wrapping your arms around his neck playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck. Maybe the turnout isn’t so bad.

“‘Every whim you say, princess’.” You correct mimicking his grin and leaning in closer. Molly goes to close the distance but you raise your index finger to his chin. “Ah-ah.”

“May I not kiss you now, ‘princess’?” He mocks and you give him a stern look.

“It’s unbecoming of a mere servant to make such a bold move.” You pull on his hair when Molly tries to land a kiss on your cheek rather enjoying the turn of events this morning.

“Yet you appear to be the one in full control.”

“He knows his place. Good boy.” You praise with a pat to his cheek and you guide his face to yours, your lips meeting in a deep kiss, the food forgotten. Molly’s hands dance over from your hips to your lower back pulling you closer to him. You earn an unsatisfied grumble when you pull away a moment too soon.

“Must you torture me so with your touch, princess?” Molly laughs fully aware what direction this is going, raising a hand to caress your cheek fondly.

“Will you finally learn how to behave?” You trace the peacock feathers curving up the side of his neck and jaw. You don’t get a verbal reply but instead Molly’s lips find their way to your neck leaving a trail of kisses and little bites as he goes enough to make you giggle and squeal in surprise whenever he finds just the right spot, taking your mind far away from the details of the fuck up that lead you here in the first place. Not that you mind anymore. If this is the treatment you get for being dragged into one of Mollymauk’s lies gone south you’ll gladly take it a thousand times over.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #mollymauk x reader #critical role #mighty nein

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aguecheek · 3 years

Note

Can you tell us about that gender bent midsummer night's dream production you did lights for?

Oh boy oh baby oh boy ive been waiting for this one

So in 2019, I ran lights for a Free Shakespeare in the Park production of Midsummer that took the characters of Lysander and Helena and genderswapped them. Lysander became Lysandra, and Helena became Helenus. And dude???????? It changed...SO MUCH??? It literally lives in my head rent free, i still think about this production every goddamn day. More under the cut.

When Hermia’s father insists that she marry Demitrius or face death, it becomes much less a matter of a man exerting control over his daughter as if he owns her, although it still definitely is that, but now takes on a new dimension. Egeus has delivered an ultimatum: be straight or be killed. Absolutely fucking terrifying, and for modern audiences especially, the stakes suddenly become much more personal and much more real. (We also kept a running tally of every family who left in the middle of the show when they realized it was gay LMFAO our highest record number was 18 families in one night. Gotta love PA!) So in the scene immediately following that, you get this really gorgeous tenderness in the “how now my love, why is your cheek so pale” scene, you know the one. The agreement to elope, the overwhelming joy that comes from the notion of leaving your homophobic father and going to live with your girlfriend’s accepting aunt...it’s good, it gave me the warm and fuzzies.

The Helenus comes on, and oh boy oh boy oh fucking boy. Because in the first scene, you have this line from Lysandra about Demitrius promising himself to Helenus, and Egeus looking absolutely horrified at it, and Demitrius denying it fervently. And Helenus is lost, confused, and desperate, and he’s seeking comfort in two other openly gay people, his childhood best friend and her girlfriend—and the’re both leaving athens. Together. When he gives that fucking goddamn how happy some o’er other some can be speech (which ive had memorized since i was eight because its so unbelievably fuckign good) it’s absolutely HEARTRENDING. Demitrius was his, and they were in love, and then demitrius got cold feet and backed out, and now hermia and lysandra are leaving too, and helenus is going to be alone in athens.

Then you get helenus and demitrius’s first scene together, the “you draw me you hardhearted adamant” scene, the “spurn me like a dog” scene. And this scene was hard for me to watch every single night. Because, now forgive me for getting a little personal, I struggled with a lot of internalized homophobia for a pretty significant portion of my life. And there was this awful heartwrenching moment the actors did where demitrius grabbed helenus by his shirt and their mouths were inches apart and demetrius like tore himself away and stumbled away shouting and it just...i’ll say, okay, i named my sword demitrius(That’s not a euphamism, I have a sword hanging on the wall of my apartment named demitrius, I intend to name all my swords after shakespeare cahracters)because of this character. I don’t like demitrius within the text, i think he’s an asshole LMAO. But this version of demitrius really just grabbed my heart ripped it out of my chest and stomped on it, because he wasn’t a misogynist freak, he was a real dude struggling with some serious significant internalized homophobia. It gave him a reason to reject helenus, it gave him a reason to pursue hermia, and it gave him an actual in-depth character reason to be a dick other than just...hey, this is demitrius, he’s a dick to women.

One of the worst and best scenes every night was the fight scene. Now the fight scene fucking gets me, no matter what, but with the sexuality dynamics, god, it’s just so fucked up. Because when demitrius first starts acting all lovely-dovey towards helenus, there’s this awful heartbreaking look of longing on helenus’s face, and then when “oh, spite, oh, hell” comes bursting out, ur heart breaks ight the fuck along with him. Not to mention now here’s hermia, who ran away from her father to be with her girlfriend, to escape the confines of heterosexuality, so they could be together, and now lysandra is turning away from her and trying to get all cozy with helenus. Helenus’s heart is breaking because he thinks that he’s being betrayed by his own community, being mocked for something that they above all else should support him for. Hermia’s heart is breaking because she’s losing the one person she sacrificed everything to be with. Lysandra and demitrius are fine lmao they’re asleep, they don’t know whats going on.

But like okay. Okay. god. Okay. listen to me. When theyre all running exhaustedly through the woods and they eventually collapse on the ground, sound asleep, and puck comes out with the cure for the spell...he cures them both. HE CURES BOTH LYSANDRA AND DEMITRIUS. Because unlike in the original text, demitrius doesn’t need to be under a spell to love helenus. He loved him all along, he never stopped loving him, he just...wouldn’t let himself. So wheras in the heterosexual midsummer, puck usually cures lysander but not demetrius, in this version, you have them both being cured, both being brought back to themselves.

And when they wake up, and the lights went all purple and blue and soft and the music started playing (it was fucking moon river. The music was fucking moon river please im going to cry) and they’re all just standing there, holding the person they love, swaying softly, whispering in amazement at their fantastic dream…”are you sure that we are awake?�� oh my fucking god. Oh my fucking god. Oh my god.

Then everybody comes storming on, theseus and hippolyta and egeus and such, and demitrius has that line...that fucking line… “The object and the pleasure of mine eye Is only Helenus. To him, my lord, Was I betrothed ere I saw Hermia. But like in sickness did I loathe this food, But as in health come to my natural taste, Now I do wish it, love it, long for it, And will for evermore be true to it.” DUDE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME THAT’S SO GOOD. Because unlike with the magic flower route, he actually is returning to his natural tastes. This is the story, this is his story, this is him giving up on his attempts to hide that part of himself. This is him accepting who he is and wishing for Helenus, loving him, longing for him, will forevermore be true to him….god. It got me every single fucking night. Every goddamn single night that line made me tear up.

And then they all got married and it was lovely and beautiful blah blah its a comedy everybody gets married you know the drill <3 but yeah, i still think about that production every single fucking day of my life. I dont think ill ever stop thinking about it.

#askdrew #shakespeare tag #infodumping #yeah i got thoughts <3 many thoughts brain full what about it <3 #ok to rb

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

Text

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 10 second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Meta)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Unclean Realm

Lan Wangji has a Louis Henry Sullivan moment on seeing the Nie family home, becoming enraptured by its overwrought monumental architecture after a lifetime of restrained good taste and single-story buildings.

He approaches the fortress with the expression of delighted wonder that he usually reserves for when he’s looking at the moon or at Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian is like, yep that’s a building, all right, but he supports Lan Wangji’s kinks.

Meng Yao tells them about the Wen Clan directive, and has what appears to be a moment of genuine, affectionate amusement at Nie Huaisang’s reaction.

Jiang Cheng kinda blames the Lans for inventing the whole “indoctrination” thing and for encouraging his brother’s disaster bi tendencies. Wei Wuxian responds by complimenting the Lan Clan, almost like someone who met his true love got some real value out of the instruction he received there.

(more after the cut)

One of the great ironies of this story is that Wei Wuxian sort of becomes a rogue Lan disciple because of his relationship with Lan Wangji. He relies on Lan temperament techniques, uses music as a primary cultivation method, has committed all of the Lan rules to his supposedly terrible memory and cites them on multiple occasions, and is an important mentor for the younger generation Lan disciples. Because Hanguang-Jun is just that good in bed.

Xue Yang in the background of this conversation is channeling OP’s church-enduring, school-enduring inner 10-year-old.

Nie Mingjue, Chifeng-Zun, appears, and couldn’t be more different than his brother. On first watching this episode, I saw him as a grumpy, sexy, very emotional leather daddy man who is quick to anger. Rewatching, I see someone who’s struggling with a growing illness...the resentful energy kind.

Nie Mingjue’s handling of resentful energy is very different from Wei Wuxian’s straightforward interest and acceptance. NMJ has a traditional cultivator’s view of it, regarding it as evil and as something to resist, while he is literally carrying it on his back. He’s like a secret alcoholic who is preaching temperence, and can’t find a way to be reconciled with himself.

At this point of the story, Nie Mingjue is keeping it together, but is under a hell of a lot of stress, and Baxia’s blood thirst is already maybe a problem.

The Yunmeng bros think that Nie Huaisang’s fear of his brother is hilarious, because they don’t understand the situation. They think he’s just living in a hideously toxic family dynamic like theirs, when actually he’s in a loving, sorta healthy, if parentless, family that is being crushed under a generational curse.

Compliments for the Yunmeng Bros

I’m not the first meta poster to notice how happy Jiang Cheng is to be praised by Nie Mingjue.

He never gets this at home. Jiang Yanli praises him, but in that watery “you tried your best” way that doesn’t really stick. Nie Mingjue’s praise really means something, because he is a fearsome warrior and stern authority figure. And this is a double compliment, because Nie Mingjue says he heard it from Lan Xichen, and agrees with it.

Let’s Make Terrible Decisions

Keep Xue Yang alive, says Wei Wuxian, and Meng Yao immediately agrees, although I’m pretty sure he would have proposed that even if WWX hadn’t.

So they do, not realizing that “kill him later” is never a good plan for someone who 1. super needs killing 2. has a whole lot of death-dealing skills.

Future clan leader Jiang Cheng notices how smart and talented Meng Yao is. Xue Yang finds it hilarious when the trio praises Meng Yao, possibly because their evil team up is already underway.

Boss’ Bed Warmer Son of a Ho

The constant insults toward Meng Yao are about his mom, but there’s another level of leering implication, that Meng Yao seems to encourage in his conversation with the soon-to-be-murdered guard captain.

Nie Mingjue elevated him way above his expectations, and he is ridiculously pretty, which has to create rumors. In the Nightless City scenes when he’s fondling Baxia and telling Nie Mingjue’s family secrets there’s definitely a sense of intimacy that’s not just “loyal retainer.”

I feel like maybe this whole exchange is a bit of theater designed to show Xue Yang something without showing it to anyone else. Meng Yao didn’t need to have this conversation in front of his prisoner.

Let’s Do Exactly What We Said We Wouldn’t

Once the younger quartet are alone with Nie Mingjue, Wei Wuxian crosses the room away from his friends and practically into Lan Wangji’s pocket, if Lan Wangji had pockets.

He has no pockets and also has no personal bubble any more, when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

We could make a weapon out of Yin Iron, Wei Wuxian says, completely forgetting his entire conversation with Lan Yi, apparently. Lan Wangji doesn’t argue with this idea.

Nie Mingjue warns Wei Wuxian not to try it.

I stabbed a man in Qinghe just to watch him die

Nie Mingjue is like the Johnny Cash of the cultivation world, carrying the weight of his poor choices and trying to steer the young folk to the path of righteousness. But--like Johnny Cash--his bad choices have made him really fucking cool, so he isn’t very good at deterring anybody.

Meng Yao Didn’t Come Here to Make Friends

Immediately after Meng Yao’s fellow Nie clan people call him “son of a whore” again, Wei Wuxian meets him, is nice to him, addresses him by his military title, bows to him, asks why he’s away from the party, and thanks him for his service.

But Meng Yao has already decided to make friends with Xue Yang, so Wei Wuxian goes onto his list of people that he doesn’t give a crap about except if they can be useful to him. Then Meng Yao goes to make out hatch a plot with Xue Yang.

I’ll Sleep On Your Roof

Meeting SongXiao seems to have done away with the last of Lan Wangji’s resistance to his connection with Wei Wuxian.

He hears a noise on the roof and, when realizing it’s Wei Wuxian, he smiles one of his tiny reserved smiles before heading outside.

When he sees Wei Wuxian drunkenly sprawled on the roof, limbs akimbo, wine on his chin and neck, mouth full of poetry about the open road, Lan Wangji gives him the most fond look imaginable.

Then he reluctantly leaves, with his signature “say goodbye, but only when he can’t hear you” thing.

They’ve both come a really long way since their first meeting. Wei Wuxian is openly and vocally attaching himself to Lan Wangji...but is not actually entering his space or asking for anything from him; he just wants to be near him, and wants to let him know that. “I’ll sleep on your roof tonight.”

And Lan Wangji just...loves him. Wei Wuxian is drunk, embarrassing, demonstrative, eager to make a hell weapon out of yin iron, touchy feely, and absurdly sexy. And Lan Wangji is pretty okay with all of that.

I Might Have Been Drunk

Wei Wuxian carefully avoids telling Jiang Cheng where he was last night.

Even if he did get blackout drunk, he would have woken up on Lan Wangji’s roof. And I don’t think he was as drunk as that. He just knows Jiang Cheng wouldn’t like the truth.

Wen Fucking Chao, Again

Wen Chao shows up to be annoying and boring. This leads to a pretty good fight between Nie Mingjue and Wen Zhuliu. Note that when the chips are down, Nie Huaisang stands with his Gege without any cowering. Almost as if he had hidden reserves of bravery, and is not as helpless as he lets on.

Wen Zhuliu isn’t styled to be super hot, although he’s certainly compelling, and in Dance of the Phoenix he looks good with sensitive-guy hair wispies. I wonder what actor Feng Mingjing looks like out of character?

BRB, adding a tag to my follow list

Battle Bros

When the fighting breaks out, the Yunmeng brothers are decisive and united, with Wei Wuxian giving orders to Jiang Cheng and JC following without hesitation.

I feel like if these two could have gone through a few big battles together, instead of being separated during most of the Sunshot campaign, their whole relationship would have improved. On the battlefield, they respect, trust, and understand each other.

The Pointy End

Nie Mingjue is holding his own against Wen Zhuliu, but he gets distracted by Meng Yao hollering “Xue Yang has escaped” and then shanking the guard captain right in front of him.

Wen Zhuliu takes advantage of the distraction to aim a very slow stab at Nie Huasang, and Meng Yao jumps in front to get stabbed on his behalf.

When the Yunmeng bros show up to help NMJ, Wen Zhuliu immeiately yanks Wen Chao back behind him and points his sword at Wei Wuxian. He absolutely sees these two as a serious threat. Considering that eventually WWX is going to kill Wen Chao while JC kills Wen Zhuliu, this concern is not misplaced.

Wei Wuxian tells Wen Chao to stop being such a jerk, and Wen Chao menaces Wei Wuxian and gloats about the burning of cloud recesses. The burning, that is, of some part of cloud recesses that doesn’t include the library, the Jingshi, the main cultivation chamber, the rabbit warren, or Lan Qiren’s house, unless the Lan Clan is really really good at rebuilding things to very exact specifications.

In a rare moment of seeing Meng Yao’s internal thoughts, he is worried about Lan Xichen when he hears about cloud recesses.

The Yelling Part

Now we have the particularly nasty breakup between Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao. It’s...got some layers. Meng Yao is cowering on the floor, but is not apologizing.

He never apologizes throughout this encounter.

孟瑤無悔 - Meng Yao (has) no regrets

This scene is amazing and excruciating to watch, even more when you know what’s ahead.

What the Fuck is Meng Yao’s Plan

On one level this is Meng Yao, manipulative sociopath, setting up a cover story for his aiding and alliance with Xue Yang. On another, this is Meng Yao, loving subordinate, being tossed aside by his lord because he dared to stand up for himself.

He uses the same “scout’s honor” gesture we’ve seen Wei Wuxian use to swear he’s telling the truth. Wei Wuxian is always lying when he uses this gesture.

I’m...not sure exactly what Meng Yao’s plan is, with all these chess moves? By stabbing the captain in front of NHS, he created an opportunity to plant a cover story about Xue Yang’s escape. He might be hoping that Nie Mingjue will forgive him and keep him on, while Xue Yang can stay in his back pocket to be used later.

Dry eyes? Try Visene

Or he might be intending to get kicked out, given his non-apology. In any case, Nie Mingjue is weeping during this encounter, and Meng Yao...isn’t. He is signaling distress in his voice, expression, and body language, but his eyes are dry up until the last moment, and even then they just glisten a bit. In a show where every actor is an expert at crying on cue, that’s got to be a deliberate choice.

Which isn’t to say that Meng Yao is faking being full of emotion in this scene. It’s just that the emotion isn’t necessarily sorrow.

What Does Nie Mingjue’s Head Think

Flip the view and this is about Nie Mingjue being betrayed by a subordinate, who has turned out to be a self-serving murderer. And on another level it’s Nie Mingjue being betrayed by his lover, who was just using him for advancement.

I rewatched the later episode where we get the scene as Nie Mingjue’s head perceived it, and he’s particularly brokenhearted and disillusioned from his head’s POV. In that version there is a telling addition to the conversation.

Nie Mingjue asks about the guys who were roasting Meng Yao behind his back. He asks, if I hadn’t come, would you have murdered all of them?

Um. No, dude. Of course fucking not. That’s what a patriarchal authority does. That’s the way an angry Nie Mingjue/Baxia team might solve a problem.

Meng Yao has to use subterfuge to kill his enemies. And while he super hates being called “son of a whore” it’s absolutely not enough to make him kill someone, with the risk murder brings. Likewise, being treated well isn’t enough to make him spare someone. Nie Mingjue totally doesn’t get this, because he’s been the patriarch of this clan his entire adult life.

And Here’s the Actual Problem

There is a betrayal here, but Nie Mingjue is not simply a victim. Whether it’s a sexual relationship or a non-sexual bond of affection, there can be nothing solid in Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao’s relationship within a feudal society, because it is fundamentally unequal. Even if they love each other deeply - which I’m not convinced either of them does - every encounter they have is tainted with power dynamics.

Meng Yao has been elevated by Nie Mingjue and quite probably taken into his bed, as well as being told many family secrets, but has not been given a new surname (like, for example, Wen Zhuliu was) or independent power. More importantly, Nie Mingjue has not used his authority to remove or punish the many people who disrespect his subordinate. Lan Qiren would have had all of those gossipy fuckers kneeling in the snow, and Wen Ruohan would feed them to his mosh pit zombies.

Meng Yao is a murderous little snake, but he is right to be angry with Nie Mingjue about some things, and his pursuit of his own agenda is understandable.

Well, That Was a Slice

Meng Yao leaves, hurt, with a dignified bow; just as he did that one time when his dad kicked him down the Carp Tower steps.

Take note, both patriarchal authorities: that is his way of saying “I’m going to murder you one day.”

Nie Mingjue sits with his broken heart, as we realize that we’ve only spent 20 minutes with this guy and we’ve gone on an entire emotional journey with him. This episode packed in a LOT.

Soundtrack: Johnny Cash, Folsom Prison Blues

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #wangxian #meng yao #nie mingjue #my gifs #canary3d-original #the untamed meta #the untamed gifs #restless rewatch the untamed

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aestheticaxolotl · 3 years

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V.I.L.E Headcanons

- Graham “Crackle” Calloway grew up in the poorer slims of Sydnee Australia where his parents struggled on a day to day basis to provide food for their 4 kids, Graham, being the oldest son felt the absolute need to help his parents provide for his three younger siblings. Doubling down in school, and getting the best grades he could (B’s and low A’s) and then diving into work as soon as he got out. -Graham started with small odd jobs until he got a part time gig with a rather cranky old electrician who had no love for anyone in his life. But he took Graham on as an apprentice because the stupid kid wouldn’t leave him alone. To his chagrin, the kid took to the job like a house on fire. This became important when he joine V.I.L.E -Tigress came from a troubled home to say the least. Her mom was an alcoholic and her dad was a blue-collared working class man who would gamble and chase after his dreams while squandering all the families money She resented her parents for these reasons and acted out as much as she possibly could, whether by robbing small stores or beating up younger kids on the play ground

-She started out trying to make a quick buck to help her momma pay the bills, not because she was showing kindness to her mom, but because the land lord had threatened to kick them out one too many times, and kept making lewd comments and suggestions that even Tigress would not allow her mother to take.

-El Topo’s story isn’t the happiest, seeing as his mother moved into America when he was very young, unable to afford to bring her husband and son with her at the time. Of course, El Topo’s father was not keen on being left behind and took his 12 year old son, attempting to smuggle him into America. Sadly, this would not end well seeing as El Topo’s father was shot and killed, and he was placed in foster care, unable to contact his mother.

-El Topo got out of the Foster care system when he was 18 and was homeless for a long time. He lived on the streets in Georgia, the last place his mom was having known working. He did everything he could to find his mom and was devastated to learn that his mother had moved to New York, remarried and had a daughter.

-Le Chevre’s mother died giving birth to him in Paris, France. His father being left alone to raise their one and only son, they had married young and had a baby younger, leaving the young father devastated and entirely loving of his young son. Le Chevre’s young life was full of music and love. His father worked as a caretaker in a French Theater, working up with the lights and the set pieces. -Young Le Chevre wasn’t as fascinated with the acting as he was with being high up and above the actors, it gave him a feeling of power and meaning while his father proposed that he take lessons to play instruments for the plays. HE did for about a week to please his hard working father, but took the gold star in thievery. To this day he still leaves large amounts of money on his’s father’s doorsteps as thanks for such a wonderful upbriging.

-Dash Harber grew up with a love of fashion and the stylistic life of the rich and famous. His parents, both very wealthy and distant from him, showered their son with gifts and money for doing nothing but existing. His parents ended up sending him away at the age of 15 (At his request) to his aunt “Cookie Booker” so that he could have a better, proper upbringing.

-Through his ‘Aunt Cookie’, he met the Dear Countess Cleo, who he took a major liking to the Countess, having a childhood crush on her. Cleo found the young gentlemen quiet endearing and took him under her wing, giving him the life he had know that he’d desired at a very young age. This came to bit him in the but when he started working for V.I.L.E. His parent identifying him during a caper and he had to go into hiding for quite a while. (His parents minds were wiped after this incident, as far as they are concerned now, they never had kids).

-Paperstar’s mother was a prostitute in Japan, and gave birth to her from an unknown father. Paperstar was devoted to her mother, even if she was not devoted to her daughter. She was usually there when her mother brought a man home, covering her ears when ever, what her mother called ‘Business work’, started.

-Young Paperstar started stealing from the men who her mother brought home when she was seven, doing this for many years before one man noticed and turned both Paperstar and her mother into the police. This enraged her mother and she disowned Paperstar, leaving the girl alone and vengeful, only wanting to look out for herself. (She might have killed her mom too, I’m still thinking on that one)

-Mimebomb was born in Ireland with their twin brother. When they were young their parents moved them to France. This is where they saw their first ever Mime, their mother had stopped at a shop and 3 year old Mimebomb had wandered off and stopped to watched a man with paint on his face act on a street corner. They realized they were lost and the Mime just... Scooped them up to help them find their mom and twin brother. This REALLY enforced in them that Mimes weren’t scary or freaky. (Their WHOLE family disagrees to this to this day)

-Spoiler, Mimebomb grew obsessed with Mimes and this really worried their parents. They sent him to a Psychologist, one Professor Maelstrom who was doing freelance work. Maelstrom found the phenomena rather interesting and kept track of Mimebomb for a very long time, it was Maelstrom who brought Mimebomb to V.I.L.E and showed them what their true calling was.

-Boris and Vlad.... I don’t have much for them but what I do have is rather... Boris and Vlad grew up in a very unwelcoming community. Russia at the time was very hostile towards outsiders and while their parents (They are not related, family friends in my eyes) had both of them in Russia, they were still not well accepted by their community, often bullied and beaten bloody by other kids, who forced them to clean up the mess after they finished beating them.

-This horrible childhood instilled a rather off form of PTSD and OCD in both of them that leads them to see every mess that a V.I.L.E operative made was something they had to clean up. Somehow, it was their fault and they had to fix and clean and pretend nothing ever happened.

-Cookie Booker is the Aunt of Dash Haber, she ADORES her Nephew and spoiled him rotten when he was a child, basically taking him in when he asked her too. She took great care to raise him the best she could, never having been able to have children herself, an event that let to her husband leaving her and marrying another woman.

-Cookie was also the woman who introduced Countess Cleo to Professor Maelstorm, a very monumental occasion in V.I.L.E history.

-Neal the Eel was just Neal as a kid. His mom and dad were performers in a Circus, a Magician and his Assistant. He used to adore the circus and wanted to be part of it as a contortionist/escape artist. He was bullied for his hypermobility ( similar to double-jointedness, but if it is progressively more serious it can create more problems for someone.) Causing him to end up resenting his upbringing and parents.

When Neal was 16 he began to break IN to prisons and then BREAK BACK OUT with a TON of the criminals inside. This quickly put him on V.I.L.E’s radar and they decided that they really wanted to recruit him. They made the offer and he vowed that he would never be seen as a joke like he was with the circus.

-MooseBoy was not the brightest kid in school, often picked on for being slow or stupid when he was really just a friendly kid with dyslexia. He almost flunked out of school and would have if not for this dorky looking kid who called himself “Otter”. Thus, a tense and rather abusive friendship formed.

-Otterman was the only reason that Mooseboy was able to graduate Highschool. They were a team, he was the brains (Still is) and Mooseboy the brawn (Still is). HE hated the fact that he was smaller and weaker and really took it out on his partner. Their first crime together was breaking into the school and stealing the principal’s desk on a dare.

-Spinkick and his half sister Flytrap have the same father, and different mothers. Their father lived a double life with his paramours only six miles from one and other. This affair was discovered by their moms and the two women ended up murdering their children’s father and then (unironically) falling in love with each other.

-Flytrap and Spinkick’s mothers moved in and the two kids were forced to get along, they ended up really caring about each other and watching each other’s backs and defending each other in school. Their mother’s never got caught by the way, just think about that.

-The Troll never had friends as a kid and met all his good good friends online, including Player (Plot twist?). Player and Troll got along like peanut butter and jelly, becoming a tag team in learning to hack and work with the internet system. The Troll became invested in trying to figure out how to lock down security systems like banks or Jail facilities (Seeing as his father was put in jail for robbing a back and killing a man who tried to stop him).

-This took Player aback and he began to back away from his friendship with The Troll. This didn’t matter to The Troll, he managed to shut down the security system where his father was being kept. This ends sadly due to the fact that his father doesn’t escape, but ends up dying in the break out. This caused him to draw back from people and remain in his room for a very long time.

Thanks for reading my ramble about V.I.L.E Operatives, I’ll be posting one for the Faculty soon!

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inforapound · 3 years

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The Devil Inside - Part 2

Your enthusiasm spurred me on to write chapter two last night. The teen talk continues. This part escalates alittle faster. I’ll post the last part next week. Thanks for reading.

Warnings - sexually explicit, hints of dub/con, possessiveness, love

Pairing - Ivar x Reader

The following week was mundane. Not once did you catch a glimpse of the black Camaro at school and you had spent every break out in the lot. For reasons you had yet to figure out, you could not stop thinking about him. Ivar... That entire night at his house and you analyzed, picking apart every moment. The way he looked at you, the mocking way he spoke, how he grabbed your wrist. It hadn’t hurt, but it was shocking. The one detail that stuck out the most, and the feeling that you couldn’t shake, was how even in a room with others, you felt him. Some pull or draw of your attention. Some dread or distraction. It was strange and by Friday, without seeing him at school, it wasn’t relief you felt, it was melancholy.

The girls noticed and chalked it up to PMS so you all decided to skip going home and headed straight for the mall. That was uninteresting and after a couple of hours of wandering shops, trying on rings at the kiosks, and hitting up the food court, you headed to HUBB City Movie Theatre to catch a flick.

Standing in line it was Kim who spotted them first.

“Heads up,” she spoke quietly, nudging your arm.

Turning around, you spotted Mark waiving, a huge grin on his face, with both Ivar and Hvitserk standing behind. Your stomach flopped and you must have made a face as Amanda leaned in.

“Dude, are you okay?”

“Fine, yea, fine.”

“You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

“Didn’t that Ivar guy freak you out a bit last weekend?” Kim asked.

“Ah, I don’t know. Yeah. Maybe. Maybe it was just me.”

“He is…. intense,” Kim added.

“My brother told me some guy at Oak Springs High owed the brothers money.” Amanda was using her ‘this was some juicy shit’ tone of voice, “and Ivar showed up, scared the crap out of him. Waived a gun around in the parking lot.”

“What!” you and Kim said at the same time.

Amanda arched her brows. “I don’t know...just telling you what I heard.”

A quiet settled over all of you and you casually glanced back at the guys. Mark and Hvitserk seemed to be discussing a poster on the wall but Ivar wasn’t even pretending not to look. Those haunting blue eyes were fixed right on you. It was a drastic change from last time and he seemed to be waiting, keeping track of how long it would take for you to acknowledge him. Unsure of how to act, you gave a quick half-smile before looking away.

“Too bad he’s a psycho,” Amanda whispered, “cause he’s fucking hot.”

You all burst out laughing and as you handed over your tickets and headed through the doors, you heard Mark call,

“Save us some seats, ladies.”

Great…… but fifteen minutes into the movie you figured they had decided on something else as it was just the three of you sitting in your usual seats; centre of the back row, directly beneath the booth streaming the film. Amanda was in the middle bitching about the cost of popcorn and you were feeling chilled in the large dark theatre, wishing you had headed home before the movie to get changed out of your uniform.

A commotion off to the side, followed by Mark’s not-so-quiet laugh made you all turn and look toward the isle on Kim’s side. Making their way down your row was Mark and Hvitserk; Mark shout-whispering that he thought you all were trying to hide by sitting up at the back. They must have been carrying $75 worth of snacks and you figured they had just gotten high.

Watching the entrance, you waited for Ivar to come through but he didn’t... He wasn’t there... Had he ditched, you wondered, feeling confused? Was it because of you? Were you disappointed? The moment brought back that anxious feeling of the previous weekend, the claws back in your tummy and you actually felt a little dissed.

Oblivious to the film playing in front of you, it was the sound of clanging metal on your side of the theatre that made you turn and look. Shuffling toward you, down your row was Ivar, his crutch hitting against the metal feet of the chairs in front.

Fuck, you nearly gasped realizing he was planning to sit with you and you felt a rush of adrenaline. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you shifted in your seat unsure if you were nervous or excited. Had he really flashed a gun? No. Stupid. He couldn’t have.

When he got close, his scent hit you like a memory and you recalled that subtle smell of aftershave in his bathroom. Unsure if you should say hello, you were let off the hook as his eyes looked everywhere but at you. Holding a massive drink in one hand and his crutch in the other, he stopped and awkwardly sat down.

You were struck by the subtle look of insecurity he had, guessing that without his badass car or his parentless mansion, he felt out of place. His discomfort made you panic alitte pushing you to say something.

“Hey,” you whispered, and he looked over as if surprised; his reaction making you smile. The smile was not returned but the look in his eyes removed all doubt of whether or not he was pleased to see you. He was. Ivar Lothbrok smiled. Almost shyly and you NEARLY DIED.

Turning back and trying to watch the film was ridiculous. There was no way you could absorb a thing with him sitting beside. Again, that expectant feeling hung in the air and you, like that first night, were hyper-aware of him; his movements, his arm slung on the rest of your chair, every time he shifted. And... he looked good...really good...downright wicked in fact and you glanced over to catch another look. The light was flickering against his smooth skin and pouty lips and you just wanted to see that smile again. Looking back to the screen, you attempted to pay attention.

Just as you began to absorb the words the actors were saying, he passed over his drink, his eyes staying fixed on the screen. Accepting it, you to took a sip from the straw and were not surprised to taste the sweet mix of some sort of pop and booze. The taste nearly made you cough and you passed it over.

With his hand, he pushed it back toward you making you frown. Did he think you drank every weekend? Was he trying to get you drunk?

Suddenly, he leaned in, bringing those lips close to the side of your head.

“Are you that much of a good girl?” he whispered and the reverberation of his voice made you shiver.

You turned to look but he didn’t pull back so your faces were close. Very close.

“I’m driving,” you whispered.

Rolling his eyes, he sat back in his chair and the impression you got was that he wouldn't be leaving you alone for long. It felt tense and you somehow thought getting his attention again might smooth out the static.

“I didn’t see you at my school this week.”

That drew him back. His head snapped over and he just looked at you. The scene changed in the movie and the light in the room brightened; his blue eyes were narrowed and you wondered what he was trying to figure out.

Without a word, his gaze lowered and you watched him rake his eyes over the open neck of your white blouse, your blue cardigan, and the skin of your thighs exposed above the hem of your kilt. With no one sitting in the row in front, you had put your feet up, tucking your toes into the seat. Suddenly, the bare skin of your legs felt elicit. Dropping your feet would have been too obvious so you hugged the folded blazer in your lap a little tighter.

Rolling his tongue in his cheek, you could see he was fighting the urge to smile and he leaned in again.

“Are you saying you missed me?”

Your stupid grin broke before you could think of what to say so as a distraction you reached down and grabbed his drink, taking another sip.

“Kiss me,” he said.

It wasn’t a question and you nearly choked.

“What?” you gawked.

Pulling back slightly, he eyed you, his expression was deadpan, almost daring you not to do as you were told. But, he did not wait long and brought his mouth right to yours, not pushing, just hovering close and you could feel him lick his lips. Fuck....was your last thought as you pressed your mouth to his.

Good lord was it ever gentle, not demanding and, and like that hunter in that song playing in his room that night, you sensed that he was holding back, drawing you closer.

That’s why when he broke the kiss first, there was a simper on his face, a smug look like he had just won. But, it was his large hand wrapping around your thigh that made you know it was only the beginning. He had it all wrong though. This was not something you did. You were a second base pro and that was only after a thousand texts, five hundred calls, and numerous dates out. You were not a fast girl from his world. Whatever that meant.

Glancing over at Amanda, her attention was fixed on the screen so you looked back at Ivar. Watching the film again, he jerked his chin, directing you to keep your eyes forward. Attempting to focus on the movie, you shifted your blazer on your lap to conceal his hold on your leg and he obviously took it as a green light. Slowly, he slid his palm further up, the tips of his fingers only stopping when they touched the fabric of your panties. God, this was crazy and you took a deep breath. Why were you playing along?

“Open your legs,” he glanced at you, speaking softly but it was still an order. “Do it.”

Frowning you mouthed the word no but at the same time shifted your knees apart.

“Good girl,” he whispered and you were shocked at how that small praise shot straight between your legs. Adjusting on the seat, you slid your bum forward as if offering yourself up.

Pleased, he smirked and you tried to ignore it, acting as if you were unaware of what he was doing.

Within a second, his finger started stroking you through the thin layer of cotton, slow and steady as if biding time. Showing his experience, he pushed the fabric to the side, his finger pressing between your folds. Jesus Christ, it was insane and you should have stopped him there but didn’t… instead, you tilted your pelvis up wondering if that would please him. And it did evidenced by his quiet, breathy grunt and you weren't sure if it was his approval or the feel of his slow strokes that had you getting so wet.

Smoothly, expertly he found that little buried spot and strummed like a string, making you flinch and close your eyes, grabbing hold of his wrist. You didn’t push him away, just squeezed and despite not seeing him, you again felt him lean close.

The smell of his alcohol-laced breath fanned over your face making that tickle down there begin to throb. Your mouth fell open and you were aware that your own breath was picking up. It was obscene, if not a little embarrassing how wet you were and just how fast he was bringing you to the brink.

He strummed and strummed and you wondered what instruments he could play. Guitar…. yes definitely guitar and just that idea was sexy bringing you even closer.

“That’s it,” he coaxed, “Cum for me.”

You were nearly there. How was it possible?

“Look at me,” he demanded and you barely had the sense to turn your head, your eyes cracked only alittle.

“Fuck,” he hissed, staring at you. “I wanna eat your pussy.”

All at once, his finger pushed inside you as his lips hit yours, his tongue shoving right into your mouth. Overwhelmed, and feeling pinned by his jaw, his finger pushed harder and his palm pressed against your clit. The image of him between your legs, lapping your wetness was a recipe for magic and your orgasm crashed over you.

You came hard, harder than you ever had, pulsating around his finger, your stomach twitching and your body frozen in place. Any sounds you made; whimpers, gasps were absorbed by his mouth, breathing you in and bringing you through. It was suffocating and borderline aggressive but so fucking hot and you wondered if the setting, the people around made it that much more intense.

As the quaking eased and you came back to your senses, he pulled his mouth away, pecking you on the mouth and cheek, and chin.

Carefully, he pulled his hand out from under your kilt and you quickly glanced over at Amanda. Smiling at something up on the screen, she seemed lost in the story. Thank god.

Seeing Ivar wipe his fingers on his jeans nearly made you cringe but he seemed unphased, adjusting the crotch of his jeans before grabbing his drink from you that you completely forgot you were holding.

“Are you a virgin?” he asked in a whisper, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

His brows were pinched together making you hesitate, sensing, there was no right answer to give?

“Ah,” be aloof, you thought, be aloof. “Not… exactly.”

“Not exactly?” he squinted.

“Technically,” you scrunched your face awkwardly. “I am not a virgin.”

Holding your gaze for a moment, he sniffled, signifying the topic was done. Scooping your hand in his, he linked his fingers between yours and leaned close, pecking your lips softly and so unexpectedly sweetly.

“I was right about you. You are a good girl,” he nodded and turned his attention back to the screen just as the credits started to roll.

Already? The dim lights came on and you felt on the spot, wondering how you would flounder through this next part. Letting go of your hand, he grabbed his crutches and without a second glance, pushed himself up and started down the aisle away from you.

Ummmmm. Hello? What was going on?

Toward the end of the row, he glanced back and called,

“I’ll text you in a bit.”

And then he was off. Your mouth literally fell open.

“Catch you, ladies, on Monday,” Mark hollered on the other side, already halfway to the door, hopefully oblivious to all that had just transpired.

----

Once out of the theatre, you inhaled the fresh evening air, filling your lungs like you had never breathed before. You felt….lude having just spread your legs for some guy with your best friend in the next seat.

“Well,” Amanda, smacked her lips, sliding her blazer on, “That was special.”

And you knew she knew everything.

“What the hell was that?” she gawked as Kim joined, not saying anything but looking confused.

“God,” you covered your eyes, “I don’t know. I’m so sorry,” you looked at her, your shame spilling out onto the sidewalk.

“Who are you?” she frowned, “I’m so.. so…impressed right now.” Tipping her head back, she let out her best cackle. “For once I’m not the only one hooking up with randos on the weekend,” she laughed again.

She wasn’t quite that bad but next to her, you were Mother Theresa.

“Okay, who is hooking up with who?” Kim raised her hands, motioning that she needed to catch up.

“Did you see everything?” you asked, holding your breath.

“No...I actually saw nothing but I knew what was going on. Wait, do you like him? What don’t we know? Are you…like…with him now?”

“No!” you replied exasperated. “I don’t even know him.”

“Okay, who are we talking about?” Kim cut it, totally frustrated.

“Ivar!” you and Amanda answered in unison

“Whaaaa...” Kim said under her breath, really drawing it out. “That guy is bad news.”

“I know. I know,” you repeated trying to convince them…. and yourself.

“Oh god, you like him,” Amanda squinted as if noticing something she hadn’t seen before. “Yep,” she nodded, “you do.”

“Do you like him?” Kim asked, not believing it.

“I don’t know,” is all you could say.

Taking a cigarette out, Amanda lit it and you and Kim, as usual, took a step back to get clear of the smoke.

“So,” she took a drag, “what message do you think it sends a guy, you aren’t sure you even like, when you let him finger you in a movie theatre?”

“Amanda!” Kim scolded but you all started to laugh.

“That no means sometimes...” you shrugged.

“What?” they said at the same time.

“Did he force you?” Kim asked, her face immediately concerned.

“No!” you threw up your hands. “No!” Wait, did he, you wondered for a second, quickly pushing it out of your head. “No, he didn’t. Let’s…let’s just go.”

Linking arms, the three of you walked in a line, heading back to your car. For numerous reasons, your head felt disconnected from your body.

-----

That night, lying in your bed, you looked at your phone but all was quiet. How stupid, you thought, he hadn’t even asked for your number. Scoffing in the dark, you pretended, unconvincingly, that you were not waiting for his text. Nothing was wrong. You were just bored, maybe a little lonely rebounding from your ex-jock boyfriend. Sighing, you flipped from your back onto your side, thinking how it had taken your ex an entire summer to get where Ivar had in one night.

Your phone chimed and you jumped, nearly knocking over your lamp to grab it.

It was Amanda…….

AMANDA: Call me if you need me. Love you.

You felt like an idiot.

Nexr chapter

@youbloodymadgenius @whenimaunicorn @ceridwenofwales @sweeneythots @funmadnessandbadassvikings @redama @mdredwine @didiintheblog @londongal2810 @fields-and-fields-of-poppies @oddsnendsfanfics @youbelongeverywhere @flowers-in-your-hayr @hecohansen31 @naaladareia @gearhead66 @blonddnamedhandz @lisinfleur @geekandbooknerd @xbellaxcarolinax @edythofhastings @ivarsgoddess @shannygoatgruff @where-beauty-goes-to-die @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @snatcherheart @lordsexmachine @fuchsiagrasshopper @wilhhelmyna @heavenly1927

#modern ivar #ivar au #ivar fanfic #ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #ivar and reader #ivar imagine #ivar smut #ivar teen romance

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cybernaght · 3 years

Text

Guardian rewatch: episode 11

The episode starts with Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan at the totem/pillar containing Sang Zan, as the long flashback continues, this time depicting Sang Zan’s life after the loss of his lover. It’s actually quite affectingly dark, and Wang Chaowei’s performance is enjoyable.

Here, we are also graced by prop swords: those are made out of painted wood, which is very charming. Believe it or not, this is the only thing I want to say on those swords. Give it time.

Sang Zan’s revenge journey is complete when he is ambushed by his people at Ge Lan’s grave, and then uses the Mountain/River Awl to put his entire tribe on ice. Tragically, as he is stripping his own soul away from his body, he realises that the love of his life was there all along, silently watching his downfall.

Back in the now, Zhao Yunlan asks Hei Pao Shi’s opinion on the story they have heard. The later replies that it does not contradict the information he possesses. This is pretty much good enough for Zhao Yunlan, who in a matter of weeks went from feeling quite skeptical of the Envoy to trusting his every word.

The Chief moves to free Wang Zheng from her dark energy binds. His attempt is unsuccessful, and he gets repelled into Shen Wei’s arms, who catches him and then moves them both to safety.

Finally, Zhu Jiu shows up, and we have the first of four fight sequences that happen in this set.

Okay, so, initially I had written two pages of notes depicting every single thing I questioned in those action sequences, from conception, to camera work, to performance. You are not getting to see them, because they felt really mean-spirited. In general terms, it becomes very obvious very quickly that the production team had neither time, nor money to spend on those fights, so across the board they look rather sloppy: the choreography is repetitive, camera is not always adjusted well to capture the moves, and while Zhu Yilong and Wang Naichao’s stunt doubles are performing very admirably, the actors do make mistakes here and there. There’s even the same take being reused in two different sequences.

It’s this one.

Fight Number One.

Shen Wei sees Zhu Jiu and sprints into action, attacking him. It’s a dynamic little fight, and two men are shown as more equally matched than they have been before; if this is a choice it could have something to do with Hei Pao Shi’s self-admitted weakness when spending time above ground in his disguise. Neither of the men manage to land any hits on each other, but they both attempt a nice combination of punches and kicks. The editing becomes a little hectic, which is disorienting, but at the same time simulates escalating action and masks a few moves that are so muddy that they are difficult to discern.

Example: can you honestly tell me that you understand fully what is going on here? Who is attacking, who is blocking? What is the intended target of this attack?

After the brief scuffle, the two arrive at a stand-still when Shen Wei throws up a shield, and they pause for a quick conversation which establishes in a concise manner the reason for their conflict: Shen Wei calls Zhu Jiu a murderer, and gets called a traitor to his people in return. It’s interesting that as the accusation is thrown at Hei Pao Shi, we cut to Zhao Yunlan looking flabbergasted.

Then, Zhu Jiu breaks through the shield and initiates another fight.

Fight Number Two.

This one is very short, and shows Shen Wei clearly gaining the upper hand. He even lands a hit to Zhu Jiu’s ribs, but I think this is actually a mistake. As in, a performer mistake: there is no reaction, and the presence of a block suggests that the hit was meant to aim higher.

After a barrage of attacks, Zhu Jiu throws a wide sweeping punch at Shen Wei’s head, which the other man avoids in an extremely dramatic manner with a lot of pretty twirling, curtesy of Zhu Yilong’s stunt double. Finally, this time Shen Wei launches some dark energy at Zhu Jiu, which the other man blocks with considerable effort.

Shen Wei fires a bolt of energy at Zhu Jiu’s head, but hits the pillar instead, creating a bleeding fracture on it. He instantly realises he may have made a mistake, potentially doing exactly what Zhu Jiu wanted him to. This also creates an energy barrier around the pillar and Zhu Jiu, that Shen Wei cannot penetrate.

Fight Number Three

Sang Zan appears from the crack in the pillar and attacks Zhu Jiu. It’s clearly an impulsive move motivated by watching this man torture his lover for the past hour: Sang Zan is not as good of a fighter, not to mention that he is a semi-corporeal human spirit, so he gets overpowered easily. A lot of this fight is just a combination of straight punches thrown to and blocked on the opposite side of the body, but they do tell a story, which is quite nice. The story is as follows: Sang Zan surprised Zhu Jiu with the first one enough to throw in a kick in there. By the time the second of the punches arrives, the Undergrounder is prepared enough to put the attacking arm under control, and by the third one he is prepared to swivel Sang Zan around fully in a lock.

Out of the four fights this is actually my favourite one: yes it’s very uncomplicated, but it has clarity to it. On top of that, Wang Chaowei is actually pretty good here.

Having restrained Sang Zan, Zhu Jiu moves to syphon out the ghost’s life force, forcing him to disintegrate in front of the person who loves him. It’s utterly devastating on multiple levels.

Shen Wei twirls into action once more, closing the distance on Zhu Jiu.

Fight Number Four.

Continuity-wise this entire sequence is a little bit all over the place, partly because it reuses shots from Fight Number One. This time as the two men engage, Zhao Yunlan goes for his revolver, taking it out in wonderful slow motion. As he attempts to aim, the two separate. Composition-wise this is pleasing.

There are a couple more moves before Zhu Jiu freezes in a block, which is a big mistake: Zhao Yunlan finally shoots, sending the villain flying. He then proceeds to move to Shen Wei’s side. He does not have to, but I gladly believe that this is where he wants to be. Using the pause, Shen Wei extracts the Awl.

This prop is gorgeous.

Zhu Jiu flees, leaving the heroes to deal with the aftermath.

Wang Zheng is coming to terms with losing Sang Zan after only seeing him once in the past hundred of years. I cannot imagine how painful it is for her; but Shen Wei can. His quiet hidden agony is seeping through his disguise, as Wang Zheng asks whether he has ability to bring Sang Zan back. When she sinks to her knees begging him to do so, it’s pure agony. It must be really painful to be seen as someone who needs to be pleaded with before performing an act of kindness and decency.

Of course Shen Wei will help. How could he not. Even without being begged, even without Zhao Yunlan looking at him imploringly, I can’t picture Shen Wei not restoring Sang Zan.

Outside, Guo Changcheng and Chu Shuzhi are still fighting the Youchu. Props to those two for selling the hell out of this fight: they somehow manage to actually elevate the badly CGI’d monsters.

At the end of the fight, Xiao Guo shocks his older friend, enraging him greatly. To be fair, for a complete novice Guo Changcheng is not at all useless in a fight, and it’s not his fault that the weapon he’s armed with has a surprising and unpredictable range. It’s even sadder that Guo Changcheng will take Chu Shuzhi’s outburst as the indication that the other man really definitely hates him.

The party gets reunited inside the cave. As Zhao Yunlan recounts the events of the day, he makes a point of praising Hei Pao Shi in front of his crew, which is kind of sweet of him.

Shen Wei goes to explain Zhu Jiu’s plan, and shares his suspicion that the Undergrounder could not have worked alone. He mentions that there must be someone behind the Evil Plan, obviously already suspecting who that might be, but doesn’t share any details.

Zhao Yunlan nods thoughtfully and proceeds to offer Sang Zan a job, proving even further the point that he does not vet people at all. I know the boy is Wang Zheng’s sweetheart, but he does have a history of being extremely homicidal. For some reason, despite Zhao Yunlan doing that, those around him still think that he needs convincing before accepting Sang Zan into their found family. Guo Changcheng tearfully asks Zhao Yunlan to not separate the couple, and even Shen Wei chips in with a grave “they held to the person dearest to their heart, not abandoning each other in life or death.”

Completely brushing past Hei Pao Shi’s severity, Zhao Yunlan latches onto the idea of Hei Pao Shi having been in love, and asks with a cheeky grin whether there is someone the Envoy cares about deeply. The irony is delightful.

Shen Wei looks down, trying to merge into background: this is not a conversation he is ready to have in the forceable future. Chu Shuzhi in the meanwhile coughs pointedly at the disrespect shown to his Lord. This forces Zhao Yunlan to change the subject, covering the inappropriate question with laughter.

Chief Zhao proceeds to playfully scold Sang Zan for leaving Wang Zheng to grieve for him, and then invites him to live at SID and work in the archives: full board, no salary. Zhao Yunlan loves happy endings, and here he can arrange one. His glee is evident.

Shen Wei, too, can’t help but smile one of his secret little smiles before quietly teleporting away.

After nightfall, the party returns to the village, and Zhao Yunlan finds Zhu Hong asleep. He shakes her awake, instantly worried over how disoriented the snake Yashou seems to be.

As Zhao Yunlan is checking in on Zhu Hong, Shen Wei rushes in to greet him, uncharacteristically happy and carefree. He appears to be genuinely in a good mood, and has a reason to feel elated: the mission was a success, mystery uncovered, villain fended off, happy ending achieved, and all with his secret being intact.

Zhao Yunlan stares between him and Zhu Hong for a few seconds, uncertainty evident. Then, he lets go of the wariness, and melts into an honest, heart-warming, infatuated smile.

Bai Yu knows exactly what the show was always meant to be, and I am living for it.

In the evening, the banquet is held to celebrate the end of the trip.

Zhao Yunlan finds himself being plied with alcohol, feeling pressured to accept refills despite getting more and more uncomfortable, to the point where his face is creasing with obvious pain. Shen Wei, who opts to drink water due to his own non-existent alcohol tolerance, notices his friend’s discomfort.

He glares darkly after the first glass, his brow furrows into a micro-frown by the third one, and then he finally snaps and snatches the liquor away.

Zhao Yunlan actually attempts to stop Shen Wei from drinking. He is clever, and realises instantly that Shen Wei is doing this as a way of helping out. From his actions here and his reaction later, it’s evident that subject of alcohol has come up before, and he knows Shen Wei does not tolerate it, his worry obvious.

“Since when have you started drinking?..”

First time watching this scene I distinctly remember saying out loud, “Oh I do hope he passes out Lan Wangji style”.

Well.

The downside I guess is that we never get to see how drunk Shen Wei behaves.

Zhao Yunlan puts a protective hand on Shen Wei’s arm, and then excuses himself from the table to bring the unconscious man back into the house under Zhu Hong’s narrowing gaze.

Having put Shen Wei to bed and connected him to a drip, Zhao Yunlan replays one of their first conversations, remembering this intense feeling of kinship they shared from the moment they met. Zhao Yunlan’s hands are restless with worry.

Finally, he reaches to grab the jacket, which Shen Wei has been wearing all day, and stops abruptly, sensing a familiar putrid smell of Youchu blood. He freezes, processing this new information. Then, he just laughs, before tucking Shen Wei under the jacket.

Shen Wei wakes up to a bright morning light and a note Zhao Yunlan left for him underneath his glasses. The note is accentuated with a winky face, because of course it is.

Shen Wei thumbs through the jacket in his lap, then lifts it to his nose, notching the exact same thing Zhao Yunlan had the night before.

We then finally see the events of the previous day from Shen Wei’s perspective staring with Zhu Hong attempting to hypnotise him. Shen Wei breaks the attempt without any visible effort, ordering the Yashou to not use hypnosis willy nilly out of what appears to be genuine concern. It would make sense if it was concern using the same logic Shen Wei applies to the rest of the SID squad at this point: they are Zhao Yunlan’s people, Zhao Yunlan's cares about them, therefore Shen Wei protects them.

He then encounters a Youchu, conjuring a sword into his hand.

Before reading my thoughts below please scroll down to have a look at the disclaimer which I have placed in the notes at the end of the recap.

Now, onto the sword essay.

Shen Wei’s sword looks about 80cm or so long, and constructed in a very curious way: the sharp edge is divided into three distinct sections, curving significantly at the higher third of the blade. This is interesting to me because on pretty much all swords I have seen the sharp edge (also known as true edge) would be solid, and it’s actually the false/blunt edge that would have a section in which it is curved or sharply slanted towards the point and sharpened, making the sword fit for stabbing as well as slashing. This sword is also thinning at the lower part of the blade, the way meat cleavers sometimes are. I kind of like it because it indicates that this sword would be actually suited for directly blocking incoming blows, the way sabres generally are not. In terms of physics I can’t imagine this sword not being very uncomfortably balanced. The heaviest part of it appears to be in the middle of the blade, which would make it very fitted for brutal attacks, but equally a nightmare to manoeuvre. This is exacerbated by a pretty but clearly light and utterly impractical fishtail pommel.

The grip of the sword is ever so slightly curved, also made of metal and would be long enough to fit two hands on it if need be, only the aforementioned fishtail pommel makes that impossible. The blade is decorated by what looks to be a faux Damascus pattern.

I wish the lighting was less washed-out, because I find it hard to discern the materials used. For what it’s worth, the blade looks like steel even if the handle does not. It does not look blatantly plastic, at any rate. Glaring sideways at my friend Baxia from the Untamed.

All in all, it’s a pretty fantasy sword. I could not locate an exact historical counterpart for it at all, although trying to find anything non-generic in terms of Chinese sword history has been challenging. The shape and length of this sabre do not directly correspond to anything I saw, especially considering its very distinctly shaped edge. Which, for a fantasy sword, is not at all a bad thing.

And now we need to talk about reverse grips. Because they are much loved by fight choreographers and stunt coordinators around the globe and I have opinions on that.

When you rotate a sword - any sword - into a reverse grip, the following happens:

One, you are significantly shortening the reach of your blade.

Two, you are limiting the range of moves available to you.

Three, you are making protecting your head and upper body excruciatingly awkward. You are either risking overextending your joints beyond what is comfortable for most people, or blindsiding yourself altogether by crossing your own arm over your face. Or, you know, both.

With this sword in particular, the part of it which does the slicing is actually curved out pretty significantly. This means that in order to apply the actual cutting edge to the target while in reverse grip you need to angle the blade away from your body by flexing your wrist sideways at an angle that cannot possible be pleasant: this is not the way the wrist joint is designed to move.

Reverse grip can be useful with short blades (knives, daggers), especially if held in an off hand, and there are a limited number of effective reverse grip moves in German longsword canon. That said, the only translated manual on single handed Dao swords that I found was Jin Yiming’s 1932 Single Defence Saber and… nope, not a single reverse grip guard or move in sight.

Generally speaking, the only reason to ever rotate into a reverse grip before performing the opening move is that it’s kinda hot.

Which.

I reluctantly admit, it is.

Sorry, where was I?

Oh yeah.

This could have worked. If the actual slash Shen Wei does was shot over his shoulder, with the beast animated running at him, it may have worked, cheating the massive gap between the CGI Youchu and the Envoy. But for some reason the slicing action was shot in profile, with Youchu being animated separately, also in profile and nowhere near the blade. Because you can’t put it in the same shot and explain why Shen Wei is not hacked to pieces by its claws.

Don’t get me wrong, Zhu Yilong looks really damn good wielding the sword. It’s just that everything else surrounding this moment makes me weep.

I do understand that taking about real life physics and real life combat performance in relation to an inhuman character of de facto urban fantasy series fighting a poorly CGI’d creature might be a moot point. But opinions have been promised and so opinions are delivered. And if you think this is me being worked up about blade work you should see me watching the Witcher series.

Anyway.

After getting Youchu blood on him, Shen Wei keeps moving. Outside the cave, he sends a ward to protect Zhao Yunlan and then transforms into his Hei Pao Shi persona, magical girl style.

It’s appropriately glorious, complete with his robes billowing in the wind as the camera spins around him.

We are then shown the moment Zhao Yunlan would have smelled Youchu blood in the cave, commenting on how rank it is.

With jacket in his hands, Shen Wei ponders, “Am I unable to hide my identity any more?”

The Road Trip story draws to a close, as many of them do, on Guo Changcheng writing his diary.

The episode, on the other hand, launches headfirst into the next case. We get to meet Tan Xiao and little Zheng Yi, are introduced to their relationship, see that the sound waves can be lethal in a way which is plot-significant, and have a whole set of gruesome underworld-related deaths.

My favourite part however, is this shot putting a tank full of fish chunklets in focus as Zheng Yi plays violin in the background. It just tickles me a lot.

At the SID, Guo Changcheng is suffering from diarrhoea, and laments his woeful existence, commenting on Chu Shuzhi’s clear dislike of him, as he calls the other man a giant popsicle. Unbeknownst to him, the Undergrounder in question is quietly reading Xiao Guo’s diary in an adjacent cubicle.

“Who is this?”

“A giant popsicle”

The rest of the office speculates on the way Hanga tribe’s food and water has affected their digestive systems. Zhu Hong comments that losing two members of their team to stomach problems for one Hallow is not a bad deal. Lin Jing counters that they did, in fact, loose three members of their team, making a vague gesture towards Zhao Yunlan’s office. Da Qing volunteers to go and shake the man out of whatever daydream he’s been stuck in.

Zhao Yunlan is staring into mid-distance as he swirls the lollipop stick in his mouth, memories of Shen Wei replaying in his mind. He is not just thinking about Shen Wei being suspicious and surviving a whole bunch of encounters he logically should not have; he also recalls Shen Wei and Hei Pao Shi both being protective, both being compassionate, both being by his side.

“What kind of person do you think Hei Pao Shi really is?” He asks out loud when Da Qing appears. The cat Yashou replies that the Envoy is an important person who should be admired from afar, and scolds Zhao Yunlan for adopting a familiar nickname for him. Which is simultaneously a good point - and a reason Shen Wei must have been really lonely for a very long time. When he was young, all but Kunlun admired him from afar. Now that he is in the modern times, I imagine him being kind enough to be liked, but not really letting anyone in, until Zhao Yunlan once more barges his way into his life.

Yunlan asks whether it was possible that Hei Pao Shi lives as a human, but Da Qing argues that as an important Underground figure he surely lives there rather than on the surface.

“Why would he be up here? To see his lover?”

“He does not seem the kind who would have a lover”

Speaking of lovers...

“Have you contacted Professor Shen since he came back?”

We can discern that Zhao Yunlan has not, in fact, contacted Shen Wei, opting instead to brood alone, collecting his thought before he decides how to approach that particular subject.

An opportunity to contact the professor falls into his lap only a short while later, when they leave the office to investigate the murder scene, and Lin Jing finds that the last two calls from one of the victim’s phones was to a landline. Lin Jing asks, incredulously, who would be using a landline this day and age.

As it happens, Zhao Yunlan knows such a man. Zhao Yunlan orders his subordinate to dial the number, and Shen Wei replies. He squeezes his eyes shut for a second and just... laughs.

On a separate note, can we please have a second here to admire Lin Jing’s Snoop Dog T-Shirt?

All the way across town, Zhu Hong and Xiao Guo are visiting the snake tribe to ask Zhu Hong’s Fourth Uncle about the Hallows. Guo Changcheng is very much freaked out by the Yashou surrounding him, but not as freaked out as he gets when the Fourth Uncle comments on him and Zhu Hong being a cute couple.

The episode fades to black on Zhu Hong being knocked out by a sedative by her own family.

Next up, Episode 12: Why You Always Lying

———

Notes.

1. The Disclaimer.

I would like to state that my base knowledge - both practical and theoretical - is overwhelmingly Eurocentric. I have done some research in the last couple of weeks, and I have actually gotten my hands on a polycarbonate version of a generic single handed dao/sabre so I could get a feel for it, but I have never trained or fought with it. I would maintain that performance safety techniques are pretty universal, as I would maintain that in terms of physics, a sword of a certain shape is designed to be used a certain way regardless of where it originates. That said, I certainly have less authority when critiquing sword work I am not culturally familiar with. Please, take my words on the subject with a massive grain of salt here as well as in the future.

2. Full disclosure on my angle in this. I am proficient in fight performance, have choreographed for the stage, but my main thing is combat education; I am working towards getting certified as a stage combat teacher, and regularly assist in classroom environment. My first instinct watching fight sequences therefore is to give cast a whole bunch of notes. I am doing to best to curb it here, focusing more of storytelling and composition and such.

3. Apologies for taking longer than usual to post. Lockdown is lifting where I am, and in person physical training is returning to higher education. You can imagine that after months of inactivity and isolation seeing students AND handling large chunks to steel for hours on end is rather physically and emotionally draining.

4. … Before pictures, this recap is ten pages long. How is this recap ten pages long??

#guardian #zhao yunlan #shen wei #recap #rewatch #overanalysing fight choreography #overanalysing swords

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Tokyo Love Story (Part 4) Izanagi and Izanami

This is information not really found in the game, so the story can get confusing for players. But the novels explain the lore pretty well. I hope you Enjoy!

@rurifangirl

In the Kabuki Theater, the translation screen above the stage showed the background information of the play. Kazama Ruri played the mother goddess Izanami of Japan - this new mythological play was about the divine marriage and subsequent rebellion between the father god Izanagi and the mother goddess Izanami.

Chance leaned over. “Have you ever heard of this myth?”

You shake your head, completely clueless.

“Since we’re here alone, no one can mind us whispering.” Chance leaned in close and started to speak, his voice a soft murmur in your ear.

“Cast your mind back, all the way to the ancient past. Before there were humans or any civilization, there were only two siblings. Izanagi means ‘He who Invites’ and Izanami means ‘She who Invites’. These two deities were said to be the creators of Japan and the other gods.”

He wraps one arm around you. “So… while in Takamagahara -- what you might know as The Heavens at the time -- they were assigned to create land out of the chaos of earth, and to create other gods to rule the newly made lands. There was a series of rituals they had to perform to make this happen. For example, while on the Ame-no-Ukihashi, which means ‘the floating bridge of heaven’, they were to churn the sea with a special spear, and with the water that dropped from the tip of the spear, they created the islands of Japan.”

“To create more gods… well…” He tipped his head and leaned in closer. “It’s the same way humans make babies. You know when two creator gods love each other very much…”

You laugh and lean away. “I was wondering when you’d start flirting.”

Chance feigns innocence. “What?! I’m telling you the truth. That’s the story. Anyway, things are going well, they have land and kids. They’re a happy family. But then something terrible happens. Izanami gives birth to the fire god, Kagutsuchi. Izanami suffered horrible burns, fell ill and gradually died. So Izanagi buried Izanami on Mount Hiba and her spirit descended down to Yomi-no-Kuni, which is the underworld, where all spirits, good or evil, go.”

And this is where Ruri Kazama, as Izanami, is now, his face white as a ghost. His ornamental long Kimono filled the stage floor, but rather being a thing of beauty, the magnificent clothing depicted maggots and skeletons. It was as if he were wearing all of Hell on his back.

As the play progressed, Chance continued. “Now we will see the parts of Izanagi. You see how the actor is walking around as if looking for something?”

The actor for Izanagi is dressed in beautiful gold and jewels. The stage is dark save for the spotlight he’s in. Then a sharp tap of a drum! Another spotlight turns on. And you see Ruri Kazama as Izanami standing with her back turned to him.

“The Fire God Kagutsuchi was killed by Izanagi, who was truly devastated at the loss of his wife. He decided that he could not part with Izanami, and now, he’s journeyed into the underworld, Yomi-no-Kuni. Now he’s at the gates of Yomi.”

Ruri Kazama begins to sing, a fluttering soft and mournful tune. His voice is like a sweet trembling flute in your ears. Even though you don’t know the words, you can tell that she really loves Izanagi. Izanagi responds boisterously and boldly to that sweet tender voice.

“Now, Izanami is shrouded in darkness and Izanagi cannot see her clearly. He’s trying to get her to come back with him, but she’s telling him that she’s already eaten food in the underworld and now cannot leave it, but she will plead to the Lord of Yomi to be released. But… and this is important. Izanagi has to wait and not look at her at all.”

The scene changed to a more domestic setting of a house. But the whole stage is dark. Izanagi can barely see anything and neither can the audience. There’s even a humorous moment where something runs across Izanagi’s foot and he wails in terror, knocking over a cup!

Then everything is silent for about three seconds.

On the stage, someone lights a match. You gasp and nearly leap out of your chair. “No!” You squeak. “Izanagi, what are you doing?!”

The lights of the stage suddenly turn on. The stage was full of actors and Izanami was right there on stage. Ruri Kazama throws back his head and wails a single piercing note! The other actors, dressed like skeletons and maggots, point at Izanagi accusingly and sing low and harsh tones at him.

“Izanami is rotting, covered in maggots and surrounded by death.”

The Izanagi on stage cowers away from his wife and stumbles away from her while she reaches for him with one ghastly white bony arm.

“She’s yelling at him for what he’s done as he’s running away from her. And she’s sending the denizens of the underworld to chase after him. They’re gaining on him, so now he’s using his powers to escape and slow them down. Now he’s reached the exit and he’s barricading it with boulders to seal it. Now watch.”

Ruri Kazama as Izanami stands on the other side of the boulders, still wailing with anger and betrayal at her husband. Izanagi, still boisterous, gestures wildly and thrusts his hips vulgarly at her. “She’s saying, for leaving me here, I will kill 1,000 people every day. And he’s saying, ``Well, I’ll make 1,500 people every day!”

“He’s a jerk!” You hiss. “Poor Izanami…”

Chance chuckles. “You’re really cute. This is a common myth in Japan, but it’s nice to see someone react to it the first time.”

“So are they divorced now?” You look up at him, smirking.

“Yeah pretty much.” He covers his face.

Warm golden lights enveloped the stage, symbolizing the switch from the dark land of Yomi-no-Kuni to the human world, and Izanagi, wearing a golden robe, appeared on stage. Wearing a carved wooden mask, he walked out in a perfect circle on the dance floor while chanting a poem in praise of his three children. “These three children, named Amaterasu, Tsukuyomi, and Susanoo, were born alone after his return from the Yomi-no-Kuni, and they had nothing to do with Izanami.”

“Izanagi ordered them to help him guard the world. Amaterasu was ordered to rule the Land of Gods, Takamagahara, while Tsukuyomi managed the Land of Night, and the ocean was given to Susanoo to manage. Izanagi gave Amaterasu the Yata no Kagami mirror, a symbol of the sun, and Tsukuyomi the Yasakani no Magatama, a jewel symbol of the moon, and then gave his sharpest sword, the Ame-no-Ohabari, to his youngest son, Susanoo.”

While this happy familial scene was going on on one half of the stage, the abandoned Izanami sang mournfully in the background, alone in the underworld with nothing but ghostly women to comfort her. While Izanagi danced joyfully with the children in the foreground, Izanami cried and sang behind a black muslin curtain, the plain white human form repeatedly folded, seeing how sharp the pain of that abandonment was.

You feel yourself tearing up. You can sympathize, only your situation is in reverse, the people you loved were in the underworld and you were the only one living. “Poor Izanami.” You turn to Chance and gasp. “Are you… crying?”

Chance wiped at his green eyes for a moment. “Yeah… I always cry at this part. Don’t mind it.” He points back to the stage. “Ah… his performances are really moving. It’s okay to cry.”

Unconsciously, you’ve been pinching yourself to keep your tears from falling. He pats your hands to get you to stop doing it.

“I’m not allowed to cry since I was little. Caesar says I only cry in my sleep.”

He tilts his head. “Who’s Caesar?”

“Aaah… oh um… It’s uh…” You were supposed to say BasaraKing! BasaraKing! How could you forget?

“Huuuh? You mean our little Main Character isn’t as innocent as she seems?” At your stricken expression he laughs. “I know who he is, I’m just messing with you. It’s rare for you to slip up though. That’s Kazama’s magic.”

He points back to the stage. “Now the story continues. The black curtain symbolizes the exit of Yomi-no-Kuni, which has been cut off forever, and Izanami who has fallen into the underworld forever, sings and dances to remember the divine marriage.”

“This scene is a memory of when Izanagi and Izanami first met.”

There was a quick costume change and Ruri Kazama is now dressed as a goddess with a splendid crown on her - uh… his - head. He is walking to meet the beautifully crowned Izanagi.

“They’re brother and sister, so they had to ask the gods to marry and have children. They said they would need to walk around the jade pillar and forget their identities and their life as siblings and meet each other on the road as just two beautiful strangers.”

The music swelled as the two actors passed each other on stage, Izanami gazing across the fan with flirtatious eyes at Izanagi and Izanagi pausing in his tracks to turn around and look at her back.

The lights on the stage dimmed at the warm scene and the curtain fell and lights went up for intermission. But no one moved. There was the clear sound of sniffling women and soft whispers. “I’m sad it ended so badly for them. Izanagi… what a stupid jerk.” You say.

“What do you think he should have done?” Chance asked.

“Well first of all, he shouldn’t have lit the match in the first place! But… if it had to happen, then… he should have stayed in the underworld with her. If he really loved her, he would have stayed.”

Chance nodded but then changed the subject. “So… why is this a new retelling of the old Mythology? It’s because this story actually starts to tell the history of the dragons and the Japanese Hybrids in the next half. You remember the kids?”

“Yeah I remember.”

“Those are the main characters in the second half. Now watch. I’ll try to explain.”

You smiled up at him. “I will listen carefully! There will be a test later!”

“Susanoo and Amaterasu don’t really get along, so he was banished from the Takamagahara and grew up to be a traveling hero, saving people from all sorts of troubles and monsters. One day, he came across a family who was being terrorized by a vicious 8-headed beast named Yamata-no-Orochi. This monster was so huge and heavy that it was like a mountain and barely moved itself. But it ate one daughter out of this family every year. They were down to their last daughter. The family begged Susanoo to slay the dragon and save their last daughter and offered her as a wife for him if he did so.”

Susanoo is dressed in beautiful armor with a magnificent sword. He dances and sings boisterously like his father.

“Susanoo turns the last daughter into a comb for temporary safe keeping and sets up a trap for the serpent using 8 barrels of sake. The snake gets drunk on the sake and falls asleep. Susanoo kills it. But in reality that’s not really what happened.”

This time, Ruri Kazama played the role of Yamata-no-Orochi. He had a scaly robe over his plain clothes. Chance leans in close to you. “Notice how he’s dancing. It’s the exact same as when he was playing Izanami!”

There was a lot of talk about what was going on onstage, which is a rarity among the Japanese audience, who have always been very particular about etiquette. The second half of the show was so bizarre that they couldn’t help it. The battle of the snake slaying was supposed to be a fierce encounter, but the audience was treated to a dance between a woman and a boy.

Susanoo's sword repeatedly slashed at Ruri Kazama, bright red dye running along the scales. Eventually, Ruri Kazama collapsed in the center of the stage, and Susanoo knelt beside him with his sword raised high, pausing for a second, before stabbing him through the heart. The stage spews out cold fireworks on all sides, and in the midst of the flames, Susanoo rips off Ruri's outer robe, revealing a bloodied woman who lies still in the center of the stage in the light, like a fallen maple leaf.

You gasp and point. “That’s Izanami! She was inside the snake!”

Ruri Kazama begins to sing another mournful tune, once again playing Izanami.

"Tired and weary, the ghostly bones face the king.

The way back home has been lost, looking back is pointless.

I look at the lonely city.

I still remember the good old days, and I hate the waters of the east.''

You look at Chance in a bit of confusion. “I… understand that Izanami is in the snake. How did she get out of the underworld?”

“That is the great secret of the White King descendents. Izanami is the White King. She rebelled against the Dark King and it’s common knowledge that she was sent to the underworld, killed by him forever. But what people don’t know… is that Izanagi is a real man who went down to get her.”

His green eyes smiled at you. “Izanami offered him freedom and eternal life, if he took her blood and bones. Because by her blood and bones, she can be reborn and escape her fate. He believed her and took it from the Underworld, but he was so afraid of these artifacts, that he hid them in a well and sealed it. This was like betrayal. He was supposed to revive her but in the end, he left her behind.”

“When Izanagi got old and was close to death, he remembered their promise and returned to the well, in hopes of reviving the Light King and receiving her ability to live forever… but instead… he transformed into Yamata-no-Orochi and carried the White King inside his own body.”

“The White King had no intention of sharing her powers with Izanagi, she just appealed to his greed. In the end, Izanagi, now a monster, was killed by his son Susanoo. But the blood and bones got to him too. He started to turn into a new Yamata-no-Orochi. This time, Amaterasu and Tsukiyomi didn’t kill the snake but buried it and chained it down in the city of Takamagahara and buried the entire city in the bottom of a deep trench. So no one can ever retrieve the White King’s poisonous gift from the Body of Yamata-no-Orochi.”

A buried city at the bottom of the sea. You’d seen it and a whole bunch of monsters that came with it!

The original Yamata-no-Orochi is the incarnation of Izanami. Years later she returned to the world with a snake body, to get revenge for her husband’s abandoning her, but Susanoo ended her road to revenge. The so-called "New Retelling of the Old Tale” is actually the original retelling. It was true dragon history!

The Dragon History is a deserted wife's revenge on her husband and the whole world he created. Although the revenge itself is evil, thinking about the pain she had suffered gave her a merciless heart. Ruri Kazama's costume is too beautiful and her song is too sorrowful, and a cloud of sorrow pervades the Kabuki theater, taking the audience between myth and reality in an instant.

An excited Kabuki critic came on stage and embraced Ruri Kazama, exclaiming hoarsely that this was the most perfect Kabuki performance he had ever seen, and the audience burst into tears, with low sobs echoing through the audience like a tidal wave.

Chance suddenly stood up and took your hand. “We have to go. I have more to tell you but we can’t stay here. Come with me.”

“Where are we going? I want to go see BasaraKing and Ukyou.”

“We all have to go.” He pulled you into the dark hall and looked at you seriously. “Agents of Hydra will be here soon.”

#Dragon Raja

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sadaveniren · 3 years

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🎄31 Days of Recs - @becomeawendybird 🎄

Tell Me This is Paradise

Harry Styles has been lucky in love but unlucky in the bedroom with all of her previous boyfriends. When her best friend Niall finds out that she's never had an orgasm, she knows just what Harry needs: Louis Tomlinson. Niall sets Harry up to get sorted out.

Buried Like Treasure

Prince Harry Styles is very private. He chooses to keep himself out of the public eye but feels lonely and isolated while surrounded by people in his hectic royal life. When he finishes his dissertation, he decides to take a solo holiday to one of the royal family's properties in the Swiss Alps.

Semi-retired thief Louis Tomlinson has been pulled in for one last job: steal a painting from an uninhabited mansion. Neither one of them expects a natural disaster.

I’ve Always Liked Fireworks

When alphas and omegas reach the age of twenty-one they are required to attend a Proving Day ceremony. Omegas watch as alphas do their best to compete in events, show off their skills, and prove how good a mate they can really be.

The whole thing is a bit ridiculous, but Louis Tomlinson has always dreamed of finding his mate. He's got two unsuccessful Sheffield Proving Days under his belt and decides to go for the much more competitive one in Manchester. His goal is to play his best, leave it all out on the pitch, and hope that one of the omegas watching just happens to be his mate.

But Now Together, We’re Alone

It's a stroke of good luck when Harry Styles, a man who grew up on the small island of Martinique, is offered the position of tutor to the Dauphin and his sister.

When he arrives at the palace, he is dragged into a world of opulence, courtiers, whispers in the shadows, and illicit affairs. But he is also introduced to the king, the most intriguing man he's ever met.

One Minute to Midnight

Louis Tomlinson is at the height of his game in Boston's financial scene. He's got the instinct, and he's got the guts to take calculated risks that make everyone around him a lot of money. Everything is going well until the day after he gets promoted when he wakes up forty years older than his actual age.

Two years later he's adapted to his new life as a retiree, but he's lonely and desperate for company closer to his real age during the rigorous holiday party season. He gets some questionable advice from Niall and turns to the Seeking Arrangement app where he finds Harry Styles, a local actor he's been a fan of since they had an undergraduate class together. But what happens when a few dates here and there isn't enough?

Withdrawal Was the Weeping

Confined by life and society, Harry spends her Sunday afternoons walking aimlessly about the countryside as it's her only source of freedom. One Sunday she is aided by the most beautiful woman she has ever met, but not everything is as it seems. Was it a trick of the light? Was it Harry's own active imagination? There is nothing to do but try to find her again.

After Dark, After Light

Harry Styles is the laird of Clan Edwards who is just trying to keep his clan afloat when they get word that the Mackenzies have been cutting a swath through the Midlands and beyond, and their sights are set on the northern Highlands next. In an attempt to garner extra protection for his clan, Harry sets out to mend his father's past wrongs and ally with their neighbors to the west, Clan Sutherland.

Louis Tomlinson is the mysterious commander of the Sutherland army sent back with Harry on orders from his laird to help shore up Clan Edwards' defenses. As the winter draws nearer by the day, the two are thrown together to prepare for the invasion that they expect as soon as the ground thaws.

Lend Me Your Hand

Society has long since decided that the soulmarks everyone is born with are entirely unfashionable. They're just another way for people of a lower class to scam their way into marrying above their station.

Lord Louis Tomlinson, Viscount Loring, on the other hand, has always believed that he will find his soulmate one day. Despite preparing for a match his whole life, he is entirely unprepared for the arrival of Gemma Styles' younger brother.

Harry Styles has been traveling and away from society for over a year. Coming back, he intends to spend time with his sister, and slowly reacquaint himself with life in town. He doesn't need to wait around for a soulmark to determine how his life will play out.

We’ll Be Lonely in the Dark

Detective Louis Tomlinson keeps getting blocked when he tries to use his psychic gift to locate a missing child. One late night he manages to get through but instead of finding who he's looking for he lands in the bedroom of a mysterious man.

Harry Styles, nursing student, baker, and all around exhausted medium, thinks he's having the best sex dream he's ever had when his fantasy man shows up in his subconscious. But is that really what's going on?

If The Surface Begs You Home

Harry is a mermaid from the underwater kingdom of Mercadia who is a little too fascinated by life above the surface. He's kicked out of his home after he winds up pregnant, and has to figure out how to make his way in the world. Louis is the darling of the small neighbouring seaside village who came home after university to take over their local library, and can't seem to stay away from the mysterious pregnant mermaid his friends introduce him to.

#new recs every day :D

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be-not-afeared · 4 years

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Jaime Lannister and John Silver: of arcs and endings

Or, herein follows a possibly niche comparison between the character arcs of Jaime Lannister (Game of Thrones, HBO, 2011-2019) and John Silver (Black Sails, Starz, 2014-2017), in which I will argue that Jaime’s character arc fails not because of Jaime’s actions, but because of the way his story is framed to the viewer throughout the series, using Silver as a springboard to explore the requisites for a tragic yet satisfying ending.

(Yes, this is 5K words long. No, I am not sorry. Spoilers for Jaime’s and Silver’s storylines in their respective shows, and while I’ve tried to stay vague about the Bigger Picture, read at your own risk.)

Okay, so. I was, and still am, to an extent, a huge Game of Thrones fan. I’ve pored over the books, been to conventions, and spent a good couple of years while I was at uni discussing fan theories on message boards into the early hours of the morning. Jaime Lannister has been one of my favourite fictional characters for over a decade. Yet I certainly wasn’t alone in watching in horror as years of hopeful build up was thrown away in the span of one and a half episodes during the final season of the show. There are *many* things that hurt about season 8 of Game of Thrones. But the swift 180 we see in Jaime, from aiding the Starks in the Battle of Winterfell and finally choosing Brienne, to abandoning her to return to Cersei 20 minutes later, was, for me, one of the deepest cuts.

When I started watching Black Sails this August, I was immediately compelled by Silver – unsurprisingly, as someone who has exactly one favourite character type: Traumatised and Morally Grey Anti-Villain. Watching Silver’s character develop over the four seasons of Black Sails was an absolute joy, and his ending in the finale, though *incredibly difficult*, was nuanced and in character and satisfying. (Am going to try and keep as vague as possible on details here, because Black Sails is an incredible show that more people should watch and I don’t want to completely spoil the ending). Silver and Jaime are two characters with a lot of similarities and their characters arcs appear to run in direct parallel with each other: both selfish and arrogant men who become more empathetic and invested in others as the series progresses, in large part prompted by the loss of a limb. However, the gulf in reception of their overall arcs can be pinpointed to one huge disparity between the way both storylines were framed to the audience, and that is difference between redemption and tragedy.

“I was that hand”

But first! Let’s start with the more obvious stuff.

When we meet Jaime Lannister and John Silver in the pilots of their respective shows, they are both introduced as arrogant and self-serving – yet charming – men, who place the needs of themselves (and Cersei, in Jaime’s case) above all else. Silver kills and impersonates the cook on the merchant ship Flint’s crew captures, and has no qualms about lying his way onto the crew whilst simultaneously planning to sell the Urca schedule to the highest bidder. For Silver, his own survival comes before any sense of moral code. We are told stories about Jaime before we properly meet him – that he killed the previous king, Aerys Targaryen, that he has no honour – but nothing that we see first-hand contradicts this; at the end of the pilot he attempts to kill a child to cover up his and Cersei’s incestuous relationship. Silver is certainly supposed to be more likeable than Jaime, but both men, despite their lack of morals, are presented as charming, clever, and good with a one-liner. As we move through the early seasons of both shows, they are consistent in these traits, although Jaime is presented as an outright antagonist whereas Silver from the outset is a morally grey unknown entity, keeping viewers on our toes wondering if he’ll turn against Flint, against Billy, against Eleanor. Things change, for both men, however, with the direct lead up and fallout of the loss of a limb: Jaime’s hand and Silver’s leg.

The introduction of Brienne of Tarth as Jaime’s foil kickstarts his path towards becoming the honourable man he once dreamed of being. During their roadtrip across Westeros, she challenges him and is able to get under his skin in a way we haven’t yet seen before. This comes to a head when the duo are captured, and Jaime intervenes during her attempted rape, lying about her ransom worth and saving her from an awful fate. The result? The immediate amputation of Jaime’s sword hand, representative of Jaime’s identity (“I was that hand”). Jaime is punished for the first selfless act we see him commit on the show with the loss of the source of his power and self-worth.

Silver, in a similar fashion, finds himself in a position to save the crew he has spent two seasons disparaging. When he is offered the opportunity to betray his crew for an escape route, he refuses (the reasons for this refusal never outright stated, although I imagine Flint’s “where else will you wake up in the morning and matter” and Billy’s “that’s our brother you’ve got there” both factor heavily). Again, the result of this refusal is the brutal torture and eventual amputation of Silver’s leg – a man who in his own words is “not a joiner”, prone to taking what he needs and leaving, to reinventing himself, to always having an escape route. As actor Luke Arnold says: “He's a guy who's always had one leg out the door, and then they cut it off.”

What is interesting here is not only that we have two characters who are *punished* for moving beyond their selfishness, but that that punishment is specifically catered towards their defining characteristics. Jaime is left unable to fight, unable to defend himself, unable to uphold his reputation. Silver is left unable to run, unable to leave his past behind him, unable to remain without attachments. Both are left vulnerable. The loss of Jaime’s hand forces him to reinvent himself in a world ruled by swords; as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, father to Tommen, and an honourable man working to uphold his oath, through Brienne, to Catelyn Stark. The loss of Silver’s leg, however, leaves him *unable* to reinvent himself; forcing him to rely on his crew and paving the way for the growth of his relationship with Flint and Madi. In losing their limbs both Jaime and Silver are set on paths towards gaining empathy, and are able to become invested in those around them.

“Defined by their histories, distorted to fit their narratives”

Game of Thrones and Black Sails both engage heavily with ideas of myth-making and storytelling. Stories are woven into the mythology of Westeros; a world with thousands of years of history revealed to us slowly over the seasons to suit the narrative and the teller. We are told the story of Rhaegar Targaryen’s kidnap and rape of Lyanna Stark in the pilot, and at first this serves to provide a tragic landscape for Robert’s unhealthy relationship with his wife and his crown. It is only as the show develops and we hear more about Rhaegar and Lyanna that we realise there is more to this story; in season 5 Littlefinger recounts the events of the Tourney of Harrenhal to foreshadow the reveal of Jon’s parentage later that season, that Rhaegar and Lyanna had a happy and consensual relationship and that it is Robert who could be viewed as the villain of this sequence. We are taught through watching the show to never assume that any given story is true. Black Sails similarly plays with the idea of the power of the storyteller, combining historical pirates with fictional pirates and an origin story for Treasure Island, and going to great lengths to show that history is in the hands of the victor. Most of the primary sources of pirate history are from the perspective of civilised England, and in the process of watching the show we come to realise the bias inherent in these histories; much like in Game of Thrones, they are stories, and should not be assumed to be either true or accurate. As Jack says in the finale: “a story is true, a story is untrue […] The stories we want to believe, those are the ones that survive”.

Jaime Lannister and John Silver are both characters defined by stories that are forced upon them without choice: the Kingslayer and Long John Silver. We meet Jaime as the Kingslayer; our opinion of him is immediately formed by the story of him stabbing in the back the King he had sworn to protect, and cemented by the fact that our protagonist, Ned Stark, a man we like and trust, is the one telling this story. The Kingslayer’s presence is so strong in the first two seasons of the show that Jaime becomes nameless, reduced to this one defining act. It is only after the loss of his hand, and through his developing bond with Brienne, that he is finally able to tell his own story and we realise our entire perception of Jaime’s character has been based on an incorrect interpretation of events: that in killing Aerys Targaryen Jaime was saving the population of Kings Landing from destruction via wildfire. It is only after the truth of this story has been revealed to us that Jaime is able to begin moving past the Kingslayer and forging a new identity.

We see this in reverse in Black Sails, for the story of Long John Silver is not introduced until the season 3 finale, but like Jaime, this story is not told by Silver. Billy creates the myth of Long John, commits the acts attributed to him, and uses him as a figurehead for the pirate rebellion all without Silver’s knowledge or consent. Season 4 sees Silver wrestle with this identity of King of the Pirates, surrounded by people who want to use ‘Long John Silver’ for their own benefit: Billy, Israel Hands, even Flint. As the power and influence of Long John Silver the story grows, John Silver the man is disregarded, and his value reduced to how he can further everyone else’s individual causes. Though he does embrace this title (for a time, at least) to further “Flint and Madi’s war”, a cause he doesn’t truly believe in beyond his investment in Flint and Madi as people, we come to realise that the ‘character’ of Long John Silver that we know from Treasure Island is only that: a character, a story, a collective created for a larger cause that Silver himself eventually betrays.

I have seen some criticism of this scene, but for me one of the few redeeming moments of the Game of Thrones finale was Brienne writing Jaime’s story in the Book of White. Despite Jaime’s less than satisfactory conclusion, with this act he is finally able to move past the Kingslayer; Brienne has rewritten his narrative, and he will be remembered as a Knight who “died protecting his Queen”. Silver is offered no such release. By contrast, the story of Long John Silver is all that will be remembered; the worst fear for a man who cannot bear for his own story to be known. Indeed, we learn that “those who stood to benefit most from [Long John Silver] were the most eager to leave it all behind”. While Jaime is able to escape the story of the Kingslayer, the story of Long John Silver is what will endure, “all that is left of [him] is the monster in the story they tell their children”. Hello Treasure Island.

“Reviled by so many for my finest act"

We can see here that Jaime and Silver’s narratives deal with similar themes, but often in contrasting ways. Just as with storytelling, Jaime and Silver’s backstories are key parts of their storylines in their respective shows, but operate with very different functions. (It is only as I am writing this that I’m realising how similar the themes of Game of Thrones and Black Sails actually are? If only Game of Thrones had the follow through of Black Sails... We were all rooting for you, etc etc).

Jaime’s backstory, and the truth of the act that earned him the title ‘Kingslayer’, is revealed to us mid-way through season 3. This comes at a very key moment for his character: Jaime has just lost his hand and is at his most vulnerable, and Brienne’s stubborn and persistent honour is clearly starting to affect him. “I trust you,” he says to her in the bathroom scene in 3x05, and we can assume that this is the first time he has said this to someone who isn’t a Lannister in quite some time, possibly ever. Essentially, the reveal of Jaime’s backstory comes at a moment where we are already beginning to soften towards him and are therefore open to hearing an alternative interpretation of events. While Jaime needs to be able to tell his story to begin to move past the identity of the Kingslayer, if this reveal had come too soon it wouldn’t have had the same dramatic effect, as viewers wouldn’t have been open to seeing him in a different light. All we saw of Jaime in the first two seasons was the “man without honour” that everyone believes him to be; by mid-season three we are already beginning to realise that there is perhaps more to him that meets the eye, so the reveal of his backstory has the most impact.

(This is exactly what Black Sails does with Flint’s backstory, and I firmly believe that if we had been told his story in season one as was originally the plan it wouldn’t have been anywhere near as effective. We needed to know more about Flint, and to see his uneasy partnership with Silver begin to develop as we delved into the backstory piece by piece, so that by 2x05 our hearts were ready to be broken. Buuut that’s a different essay.)

Black Sails loves a backstory. As we move through the show we slowly learn why and how our favourite characters came to be in Nassau , and universally these reveals add to our understanding of that character and their motivations: for Flint, for Billy, for Max, for Jack. We enter season four with Silver as the only character we don’t know anything about prior to the pilot. Surely then, we were about to get a ‘Jaime Lannister bathroom scene’ equivalent, a moment that will add depth and understanding to Silver’s character? Were any of the stories he has told about his past true? Who is Solomon Little? … Instead, what we get is one of my favourite sequences of the entire show, in which, after Flint realises that he knows nothing of Silver’s past, Silver reveals that Flint, and by proxy the viewer, knows “of [him] all [he] can bear to be known”. Silver is the ultimate storyteller, master of manipulating and deceiving others through the power of a narrative, yet he cannot bear to be the story himself. We never learn Silver’s backstory, and all he reveals of his past is that it speaks to “events of the kind no one can divine any meaning from, other than the world is a place of unending horrors”; he has chosen to repress his past, has rendered it unspeakable, and both Flint and the viewer are only left to wonder at what these “horrors” could be.

Although this lack of backstory adds nothing to our view of who Silver *was*, it is key to understanding who Silver *is*, and *why* Silver makes some of his more controversial choices further down the line. Silver’s need to repress his past is as key to his character as Flint’s need to define himself by his own backstory. We understand from this that Silver has experienced a level of trauma which is unspeakable, quite a feat for a show with plenty of other horrific backstories and especially pertinent given that Silver is one of our most gifted orators. Silver’s inability to process his past explains a lot of his actions in the early seasons; his coping mechanism has been to move through life without forming attachments, convincing himself that he doesn’t need (and shouldn’t need) other people. It is safe to assume that Madi and Flint are the first people he has let himself be truly vulnerable with, which paints his actions throughout season four in a different light; loving people is new for Silver, and he doesn’t know how to do it in a healthy or selfless way. The placement of this scene is as important to Black Sails as Jamie’s bathroom scene is to Game of Thrones; we needed to have already seen Long John Silver’s significance to the war spiral beyond Silver’s control, to have seen him become compromised by his love for Madi and the beginnings of the collapse of his partnership with Flint, for this scene to pack the punch that it aims for and to beautifully set up the culmination of his arc in the finale. How devastating, for a man who cannot bear for himself to be known, to be the one figure whose story will outlive them all.

Both of these scenes have stayed with me long past my first watch, and feel vital to understanding Jaime and Silver as characters. For Jaime, his backstory informs all his actions moving forward, his desire to transcend the Kingslayer, to become an “Oathkeeper”, or even “Golden-hand the Just”. For Silver, his lack of backstory informs all his actions up to this point in the narrative and prepares us for the choices to come. Just as Jaime is defined by his past, Silver is defined by his *lack* of past.

“This is not what I wanted”

So, we’ve tracked Jaime and Silver’s characters throughout the show, but how do they both end? The answer, of course, is… tragically. Jaime is offered a glimpse at what could be a peaceful life, in Winterfell with Brienne, before turning it down to return to Cersei’s side only to meet his end while the duo try to escape the collapsing walls of Kings Landing. Silver betrays Flint and Madi in a horrific fashion, ensuring that they both survive though knowing that in doing so he was destroying his relationship with Flint and that there was a chance Madi would never forgive him his actions. (Or, this is my chosen interpretation of the ending, in any case, although the point still works if you prefer one of the other readings). Just thinking about Silver’s ending in Black Sails makes me want to cry. Thinking about Jaime’s ending in Game of Thrones makes to want to cry too, although for a very different reason. Neither are the ending we would hope for these characters in an optimistic and ideal world. But Silver’s decision to betray Flint and Madi feels narratively satisfying in a way that Jaime’s decision to betray Brienne and return to Cersei never could. Why is that?

Jaime Lannister’s character progression from season 3 onwards was set up as a redemption arc. We thought we were watching a jaded and selfish man become an honourable man. The show, admittedly, takes its sweet time with this journey in comparison to the book equivalent, and inserts some *interesting* deviations which I won’t dwell on here (looking at you 4x03 and the entirety of season 5). But, ultimately, the journey that Jaime finds himself on from the moment he loses his hand seems to be heading for a triumphant ending. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t expecting him to survive the series. But I was expecting him to go out in a blaze of glory – fighting side by side with Brienne, perhaps, or protecting Bran, or one of the other characters he had wronged in the past. There was also always the chance that he would end up fulfilling the much subscribed to book theory of the valonqar, although this admittedly looked less likely as that particular line of the prophecy was cut from the show. When Jaime finally leaves Cersei at the end of season 7 it is such a triumphant moment – after years of struggling with these warring parts of himself, his toxic love for Cersei and his growing moral conscience, a decision had been made and a tie cut. We enter season 8 assuming that there is no going back. We don’t get a hint of any conflicting feelings from Jaime about this decision in the first half of season 8; we are focused on preparation for the Battle of Winterfell, and revelling in the joy of having Jaime and Brienne in the same place for longer than a single episode for the first time since season 4. We get the knighting scene (which, let’s be honest, is where the season peaks). We get the battle. We get the sex scene between Jaime and Brienne (which I… don’t love, for many reasons up to and including the weird virgin shaming jokes from Tyrion in the previous scene and their level of intoxication, but still gives no hint that Jaime is battling an inner war). And then later in that same episode, despite Brienne pleading with him to stay, we get Jaime’s snap decision to return to Kings Landing to attempt to save Cersei: “You think I’m a good man? […] She’s hateful, and so am I”.

The issue here isn’t the decision itself, or Jaime’s choice of words. We know that Jaime isn’t a good man. We know that he’s done awful things for Cersei’s love. And, if we think about it, it makes sense that he wouldn’t be able to leave behind a lifelong co-dependent and unhealthy relationship without looking back, and that he would be driven to return to Cersei’s side when the reality of her impending death hit. The issue is that none of this decision making is presented in the show itself; there was no build up, no foreshadowing. Instead of showing us why this decision was made, the show presents this scene as a shock twist, leaving the viewer with whiplash wondering how Jaime’s story could have taken such an unexpected turn so quickly. The redemption arc that we all thought we were watching was not a redemption arc at all, and don’t think I was alone in finding this revelation deeply unsatisfying.

Let’s leave Jaime for a moment and turn to John Silver. Even for viewers who entered Black Sails without knowing they were watching a prequel to Treasure Island (such as myself!), we can assume that most people have heard of the fictional pirate Long John Silver: the ‘villain’ of Robert Louis Stevenson’s adventure who embodies what it means to be a “gentleman of fortune”. When we meet clean-shaved, smarmy, two-legged Silver in the pilot most viewers will at least have an idea of the trajectory his arc will take – and that it won’t end with him and Flint skipping off into the sunset hand in hand. We know, because of history, that the pirate rebellion is doomed to fail, that slavery does not end in the West Indies, that Nassau does indeed fall back under English rule, and that piracy is eventually stamped out of New Providence. And we know, because of Treasure Island, that John Silver will end up hunting for Captain Flint’s treasure, while Billy Bones dies from a stroke at the very idea of a visit from Long John and Flint drinks himself to death in Savannah. In essence, we know that we are watching a tragedy.

The genre of tragedy dates back to Ancient Greece, and describes a narrative that presents an examination of human suffering while evoking a sense of catharsis. Aristotle defines tragedy as “an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude … through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation [release] of these emotions.” In other words, in order for a tragedy to achieve this state of emotional release, we as the viewer need to both anticipate (or, fear) the resolution and feel sympathy (or, pity) towards the tragic hero. Black Sails does this masterfully. The pathway towards the destruction of Silver and Flint’s partnership has its grounds as early as season 2, before it has even really started to develop, where Silver talks of his fears of being “used and discarded” by Flint. In the finale of season 3 it is made explicit during their conversation before the battle, with Silver interrogating what he sees as the pattern of Flint’s loved ones dying “not just during [their] relationship, but because of it”. Silver finds himself “unnerved by the thought that when this pattern applies itself to [Flint] and [Silver], that [he] will be the end of [Flint]”. As they lock eyes across the water later on in this episode, the setup of their opposition, complicated by the genuine care between them, is complete, and we enter season 4 dreading the crumbling of their relationship. Season 4 dangles this dramatic irony over us; every time Flint mentions the indestructible force of their partnership, the things they can achieve when there is “no daylight” between them; every time Silver mentions that Flint has his “genuine trust and friendship”; every time they both speak of their partnership in the same terms as the love that Silver holds for Madi, “I’m committed to Flint, I’m committed to Madi” / “he is my friend, too”, we dread the moment where this will all change. We may not know how it will play out, but we know it is coming. The “fear” is very much present. As, indeed, is the “pity”. We understand why Silver makes the decision he does, even if we don’t agree with it. The show has taken lengths to track the development of Silver’s ability to care and make himself vulnerable to others; we believe in his love for Madi, and understand why he believes that he is doing the right thing. Silver’s tragic flaw is that in gaining empathy his selfishness moves to encompass those he cares about; he will do dark things to protect them without consideration of their own choices or agency. The finale of Black Sails is difficult, beautiful, and yes, tragic, but we end Silver’s story understanding and perhaps even empathising with the decisions he made, believing him when he says that “this is not what [he] wanted”.

Tragedy vs redemption

John Silver’s story is a tragedy. And I believe that Jaime Lannister’s story is also a tragedy; a deeply flawed man who tries to escape the inevitability of an abusive and unhealthy relationship, only to eventually fall back into this cycle and become consumed by it. The problem is that this wasn’t the story we thought we were watching. The ending of Jamie’s character arc has none of the fear, none of the pity, none of the catharsis of Silver’s, because there was no signposting towards this end. If Jaime’s arc had been treated as a tragedy from the outset then perhaps it would have felt emotionally satisfying rather than rushed and unexpected.

Admittedly, as Jaime is not as central to Game of Thrones as Silver is to Black Sails, the show could not spend as much time detailing his inner world as Black Sails does to the latter. However, if the show had framed Jaime’s story with a sense of tragedy rather than triumph, then his decision to return to Cersei in season 8 would have had the same inevitability as Silver’s betrayal. In season 1 of Game of Thrones, as in the first instalment of A Song of Ice and Fire, Cersei tells Ned Stark that she and Jaime “are more than brother and sister. We shared a womb, came into this world together. We belong together”. However, the show doesn’t include Jaime and Cersei’s later, darker ruminations, that “we will die together as we were born together” (Jaime, ASOS), and “we will leave this world together, as we once came into it” (Cersei, AFFC). Jaime and Cersei’s doomed fate in the books is entangled in a way it never is in the show, and doubly so when you factor in the possibility of Jaime actively causing Cersei’s end due to the valonqar prophecy. In addition to this, if we had seen Jaime leave Cersei earlier in the narrative and then grapple with this decision, showing him struggling to be the man Brienne believes him to be and overcome his past actions, then his failure wouldn’t have seemed so out of the blue. With very little effort or changes on the part of the show, Jaime’s *entire* arc could have been framed in a way that would have made his death a tragically fitting end to his and Cersei’s story.

Jaime and Silver both end their respective narratives in very similar places to when they were introduced, or at least they do on the surface: Jaime unable to leave Cersei even in death, Silver alone and eventually chasing treasure (yes, Madi is still in the picture, but I don’t think we are meant to infer that their future relationship will be a trusting one). However, for Silver, this similarity is only surface deep, for we followed his growth and development and understand the tragedy of his choices. Although Jaime goes through a very similar pattern of growth, the framing of his arc as redemptive means that the unexpected nosedive into tragedy in season 8 doesn’t have the weight or impact that it intends, and we are left without understanding *why* he makes his choices. Jaime’s arc is a failed tragedy that doesn’t fulfil the cathartic requirements of the genre, but with a bit of reframing it could have been as emotionally resonant as Silver’s.

Long story short: watch Black Sails.

#game of thrones #asoaif #Black Sails #jaime lannister #john silver #long john silver #black sails meta #game of thrones meta #also this is just my opinion and i am fully aware i have blind spots when it comes to both of these characters #this is just part of my new agenda to make everyone in my life watch black sails

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let-it-raines · 4 years

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CS Fic Rec Monday

I hope you’re all staying safe and inside as much as physically possible! I said I was going to do this weeks ago, but I finally remembered to queue it all up! Here are some dang good multi-chapter fics you can curl up with! You’ve probably already read them if you’ve been around for awhile, but rereading is fun, too! Plus, I know these writers would get excited to see a new comment or two 😘

-/-

As Real As You Want it To Be by @ive-always-been-a-pirate: Teaching at the same school as Killian Jones was both infuriating and distracting, but when he throws Emma under the bus for the final time, she devises a plan to get back at him. After all, nobody likes to go to a wedding alone. Time for some CS AU fake dating.

Warm Nights and Firelight by @oubliette14: When in the wake of a messy breakup Emma makes the impulsive decision to return home to her parent's ranch in the Rockies, she certainly doesn't expect to find a strange Irish guy living in what was once her apartment over the garage, and she definitely doesn't imagine that the home she couldn't wait to be rid of five long years ago would be the very place her heart begins to heal.

If Looks Could Kill by @wellhellotragic: Emma Swan is a dedicated FBI agent getting over a bad breakup. When she and her partner, Ruby Lucas, are forced to go undercover as contestants on a reality show, Emma is forced to try and win the affections of Killian Jones, a man she despises.Killian Jones is a lost boy. Having recently been nicknamed the ‘Bad Boy of Boston,’ he’s been living up to his moniker using women and rum to avoid dealing with his dark past. When he’s forced to take the lead in a reality show, he encounters a gorgeous blonde who turns his world upside down. Miss Congeniality meets The Bachelor.

The Reason by @xemmaloveskillianx: The three of them share a laugh before they all look to Emma. She has yet to comment on the new addition because she isn’t sure what to say. She usually doesn’t like change, they have a good thing going there, just the four of them. Plus, they all know him and she doesn’t, but she trusts their judgement, and she’s sure any brother of Liam can’t be all that bad.So, with a shrug and a smile she says, “Welcome to Storybrooke, Killian Jones.

The Wife by @ineffablecolors: No one knows all that Emma has been through and certainly no one knows all that Killian has been through and being husband and wife doesn’t make them any less unknown to each other. And really, how can you help someone heal when you don’t even know how hurt they are?

Beauty in the Aftermath by @high-seas-swan: Confronted with the sudden appearance of her birth parents, Emma, in a moment of panic, flees. She flees the diner, Storybrooke, the country. She finds herself a day later in the Dublin, Ireland Airport terminal wondering what the hell she has gotten herself into. With some fear, a little determination and a considerable amount of faking it along the way, she sets off on a trip she never planned on taking but needed more than she ever knew. She finds herself, she finds a Brit adrift on his own journey and finds out what home really means.

Playing the Part by @shireness-says: As a stage manager who's clawed her way up from the bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU.

Love, Kindness, and Other Useless Things by @joneskillian: CS AU, set in 1815. Lord Killian Jones is haunted by the demons of his past which makes him nowhere near the man he once was, so he can't be the father he wants to be. And above all, he believes he is undeserving of love. Perhaps with Emma that is all about to change. But falling in love is never easy, that's just how it is.

Something Like You Love Me by @bemusedbicycle: Emma decides the best way to get Mary Margaret off her back about Walsh is to say she already has a boyfriend. Except she doesn’t. That’s where Killian comes in. Fake!Engagement fic.

a one time thing (and other untruths) by @weezlywrites: "She supposes the reason she tells him is the same reason she kept his phone number after all those weeks." Pregnancy has a way of throwing a wrench in one's plans.

Alone, until I get Home by @peglegsjones: In Boston, Henry Swan's six-year-old brother Ian finds a book titled "Once Upon a Time" hidden beneath the seat in their mom's old yellow bug. As soon as Henry touches it, he remembers.Season 3 Canon Divergence-Emma finds out she's pregnant a few weeks after she and Henry leave Storybrooke with new memories and new lives. Nearly seven years later, another Dark Curse puts her family in danger, and Emma must return to Storybrooke to help them.Who's powerful enough to cast the Dark Curse? And how the hell is she going to tell Hook they have a son together?

Knock, Knock by @charmingturkeysandwich: Emma Swan has made the best of her crappy apartment ever since she became best friends with her neighbor, Ruby. But when Ruby moves out and a loud Brit takes her place, the thin walls and lack of space are suddenly not so endearing. After a particularly stressful day, Emma decides to confront the nightmare next door, and entirely against her better judgment, she might just be making a friend.

These Nights Aren’t Made For Thinking by @nowforruin: AU. Emma Swan came to Portland, ME to start over. She's got a job she loves, but when a particular case gets under her skin, she finds herself visiting the Jolly Roger and its curious bartender, Mr. Killian Jones, more often than she thinks is wise. But some nights aren't made for thinking. Captain Swan.

On the Two by @lifeinahole27: He’s one bad trip from ending up in AA, and she’s one performance away from a solid job and moving closer to home. Their paths were unlikely to cross until Camp Hope brought them together. How and why they meet and intertwine is against the odds, and definitely against the rules, but will that really stand in their way? A Dirty Dancing inspired modern au.

Separate Lives by @lenfaz: Set after 3x20 "Kansas". After saving the town one more time, Emma decided to return to New York, leaving her past behind. Three years later, she realizes that might be not have been the best decision.

Natural Opposite by @searchingwardrobes: Dance is more than Emma Swan’s career; it’s practically saved her life on more than one occasion. But when it comes to reality TV shows, she’s always danced in the shadows of her twin brother David and her sister Elsa. Her first season as a pro on Dancing With the Stars was a disaster, and she enters her second season determined to prove herself. All she needs is a good partner. Hollywood bad boy and ladies’ man Killian Jones isn’t what she had in mind.

Walking in a Straight Line by @msgenevievee: It’s one of the oldest stories in the book. Two old friends have a few too many drinks, two old friends share a kiss. Happens all the time, right? But what happens when only one of them actually remembers it?

Out of the Frying Pan by @welllpthisishappening: Emma Swan is only doing this for one reason, well, make that two. To get her show's numbers back up and, maybe, impress her son. She doesn't like admitting to that second one though.Killian Jones is doing this for absolutely, positively, just one reason. To expand his restaurant. And maybe get Regina off his back. So that's kind of two reasons.Neither one of them is doing a year-long Food Network all-star competition because they're celebrity chefs and there's not really any other choice. Of course not. And neither one of them is enjoying it because they maybe, kind of, sort of enjoy each other. That would be insane.

A Cold Awakening by @swanderful1: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Beyond the Horizon by @alexandralyman: AU: When Princess Emma's ship is captured by the Jolly Roger and Captain Killian Jones, she offers herself as a hostage for ransom if he will let the ship and the other passengers go. With Emma, Killian remembers the honour he once held dear, and Emma catches glimpses of the gentleman Killian had been. Against all odds, the pirate and the princess begin to fall for each other.

#csfrm #cs fic rec #cs fic #cs ff rec #Captain Swan #queue poetic noble land mermaid

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houseisekai · 3 years

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House Isekai: Shadowbringers - Act 1 Finale: The Warrior of Darkness

House Isekai Shadowbringers AU Masterlist Here

—

Most of House Isekai have finally reunited, with the help of the Ashen Wolves, The former Blue Lions, and Black Eagles class. Leaving Claude and the Investigation Team unaccounted for.

However, as they are discussing the nature behind Sitri’s resurrection and the plans of Lahabrea, they notice something terribly wrong...

—

Outside the Monastery, Present Day...

Byleth walked towards the Monastery alone, the winds blowing back his white hair.

One hand held Sara’s pistol while the other held the Sword of the Creator.

It had been five long years since he saw any members of House Isekai.

He hadn’t even seen the Investigation Team with Claude, even though he knew they were alive.

So much has happened since that first battle at Garreg Mach. He wasn’t even sure what to say when he saw them again.

As he kept walking, he noted something was off.

The wind had just stopped blowing completely.

He looked up into the air and his eyes went wide.

The skies had just went almost completely white.

(Byleth) “Shit.”

He held his weapons tightly and began running towards the Monastery.

...

(Yuki) “U-Um, excuse me.”

Everyone turned to her.

(Megumi) “Yuki-chan? What is it?”

(Yuki) “What time is it?”

Ryuji pulled out his phone and checked.

(Ryuji) “Hm…According to the phone, time in Fodlan’s about 9 in the morning. You forget something to do, Takeya?”

(Yuki) “Should…it be THAT bright outside?”

Everyone paused for a moment before slowly turning to the door behind them.

The outside shone an eerily bright white on the grass, and the wind appeared to stop blowing against the trees.

And the sound of footsteps seemed to be approaching from the main hall.

Megumi got the School-Living Club and Sitri behind her as everyone slowly stood up and reached for their weapons…

The clothes of the Phantom Thieves suddenly switched from their school uniform into their metaverse forms.

(Bernadetta) “Um...D-Don’t your clothes only do that when-?”

(Akechi) “Oh SHIT.”

KABOOOOOM!

[Holminster Switch - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

The wall exploded into chunks of concrete, monstrous four legged creatures cloaked in white erupting from the main hall and reducing the entrance of the mess hall to rubble.

Albedo, Sebas, and Sara and Darkness jumped to the front, hitting back the debris that was about to hit them.

The monsters’ mouths separated into four jaws, looking something akin to a horribly mutilated dog.

Soldiers began to flood in behind the monsters, drawing their weapons.

(Edelgard) “Damn it, the Church found us!”

(Yuri) “Tch, brought the war right to us, didn’t ya?!”

(Dimitri) “It was going to reach you regardless, now quit complaining and help us kill the angels!”

Edelgard, Yuri, and Dimitri ran forward to meet the soldiers head on.

(Minato) “What’s the plan here?!”

(Kazuma) “WE GET THE HELL OUT, THAT’S WHAT!”

Kazuma motioned the others to himself before trying to head out the exit, before more soldiers started to flood in.

(Felix) “That’s just great!”

(Sitri) “What about the entrance near the lake?!-”

Right as they spun around, more angels blocked the doorway.

(Balthus) “Well, IF IT’S FIGHT THEY WANT!”

(Junpei) “Not sure fighting them head on is our best idea, man!”

(Millium) “Then we’ll make an exit out of here! LAMMY!”

Her golem materialized behind her and charged the soldiers, and with one swipe sent them into the air.

(Megumin) “Think our best bet is to move our butts to Abyss!”

(Sharon) “Very well! We will take point!”

Sharon jumped above everyone and towards the entrance along with Doomguy.

More soldiers were on their way from the direction of the classrooms, forcing Doomguy to pull out an assault rifle.

As he began to unload the gun’s ammo into the Church soldiers, everyone began to retreat.

Edelgard, Dimitri, and Yuri sheathed their weapons and quickly got behind the group running away.

(Church Captain) “DON’T LET THEM ESCAPE!”

The Captain turned to the angels and nodded.

(Church Captain) “Cut them off at all entrances!"

The angels nodded and charged away, leaving the soldiers to pursue the others.

The Phantom Thieves, Machias, Crow, Towa, Aigis, and Doomguy covered everyone as they ran from area to area with their guns, dropping soldier after soldier.

(Machias) “This is absolutely insane! Just how much people did they send after us?!”

(Aigis) “According to my scans, there are currently over a hundred-”

(Towa) “I-I DON’T THINK I WANT TO KNOW THAT NUMBER, AIGIS!”

(Ann) “JUST GO AWAAAAAAAAY!”

(Megumin) “W-Wait a second!”

It was then everyone realized that the group was shooting to kill.

(Kazuma) “The hell?! I thought you guys didn’t ki-”

The fallen soldier’s bodies began to twitch violently as they exploded into pure white winged bats.

(Kazuma) “OKAY, WHAT IN THE FUCK?!”

(Constance) “Keep moving, Kazuma!”

Sharon and Doomguy turned the corner to the entrance of Abyss before Hapi realized something.

(Hapi) “Wait a second, we never saw their bodies do that when we were leaving. Crap, does that mean?-”

Hapi’s question was answered when several more of the white bats flew out of Abyss’s entrance.

An angel was there waiting for them, charging full speed.

(Albedo) “OUT OF THE WAY!”

(Darkness) “EXCUSE ME!”

Albedo in an instant transformed into her black armor and shoved the others out her way, Darkness standing beside her.

They both blocked the monster and shoved them both back into the ground.

Its jaws unhinged and was about to devour them before the two of them drew their weapons and cleaved the side jaws, making it recoil back in pain.

Mercedes, Annette, Linhardt, and Dorothea raised their hands and all cast a fire spell, flying straight into the creature’s mouth and setting it ablaze.

It made an almost ear piercing screech as it inelegantly flopped over, immediately lying dead.

(Linhardt) “Hm, these angels appear to die from our attacks than the one we encountered at Enbarr.-”

(Annette) “D-Don’t think now’s a good time to conduct research, Linhardt!”

(Linhardt) “I’d beg to differ but eh, you’re probably right. Gotta waste our energy escaping.”

Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid slashed apart the bats following behind them.

(Sylvain) “LESS TALKING, MORE RUNNING!”

(Ingrid) “I don’t think we can get to the stables in time!”

(Felix) “Not gonna help anyway, there’s too many of us to escape on horseback!”

Petra and Ashe shot two out of the air with a bow as Dedue grabbed one and slammed it into the floot.

(Petra) “Then we are hard of pressed for decisions!”

(Ashe) “All the exits are covered by these things right? Then that means they got us surrounded!”

(Dedue) “And going into Abyss seems like a good way for us to get separated and picked off!”

(Bernadetta) “S-SO WE’RE JUST GOING TO BE TRAPPED HERE THEN?!”

(Caspar) “Calm down, Bernadetta! I’m sure we can punch our way outta here!”

(Ferdinand) “Then they will simply follow us! I am not sure we have the stamina to nor the manpower to stave off an entire army!”

(Miki) “Wait a second, what about Valimar?! He can teleport us out of here with that spirit portal thing!”

(Rean) “We’re going to need a huge area for all of us to get teleported!”

(Sitri) “I-If the Cathedral is still here, we could try that!”

(Aqua) “WHAT?! That’s like, the number one spot they would be in!”

(Hubert) “Then we will need to secure the area inside first.”

(Yuuri) “Besides, the Entrance Hall is too dangerous to push towards there, and if we’re out in the courtyard then we’ll be right in the open!”

(Futaba) “Enemies closing in behind us!”

(Fuuka) “More coming from Abyss’s entrance!”

(Pandora’s Actor) “MMMM, IF WE MAKE OUR CHOICE, WE BEST DO IT NOW!”

(Kazuma) “BRIDGE IT IS, MOVE YOUR ASSES PEOPLE!”

...

Byleth cut down the angel blocking the entrance to the Monastery, and shot down any soldier trying to approach him.

The angel began to fade into nothingness before its energy was absorbed into Byleth.

(Soldier) “I-IT’S THE WARRIOR OF DARKNESS!”

(Soldier 2) “GET THE CAPTAIN, WE’LL TRY TO-”

The soldier was interrupted when his head exploded and fell to the floor.

When the other soldier looked back at Byleth, the sword slashed across his chest, sending him flying back.

Their bodies started twitching as Byleth raised a hand towards them.

His hand shot out a wave of a black and purple aura, completely enveloping them.

The bodies had disintegrated completely, leaving no trace of them on the ground.

Byleth saw the path of destruction from the main hall, to the Mess Hall.

After running to the room, he looked at the debris and bodies left in the group’s wake and followed the trail towards the church.

...

(Narberal) “Lord Ainz, the main hall is secure for now!”

The Pleiades and Sharon killed the soldiers inside and collapsed the other entrances leading inside.

(Ainz) “Understood, DEMIURGE, COCYTUS!”

Demiurge opened his hands and flicked his wrists, summoning a massive flame wall in front of the bridge.

Everyone else made it inside, and Cocytus created a freezing mist cloud in front of their entrance, letting ice shoot up into the air forming another wall.

(Cocytus) “IT IS DONE, LORD AINZ.”

(Shalltear) “Get on with it, Schwarzer!”

(Rean) “Right. Heed my call...

VALIMAR, THE ASHEN KNIGHT!”

Valimar stood up from the forests nearby and flew into the air, towards the Monastery.

Byleth finally cut his way to the bridge when he saw several winged bats pick up a specially dressed Church soldier.

(Byleth) “Damn it!”

He aimed the pistol at it and squeezed the trigger.

More bats flew in to intervene and took the bullet, the bat dropping below the bridge. Byleth fired several more shots only to have the same result.

A massive shadow enveloped Byleth, and he spun around with his sword expecting another angel.

Instead, it was Valimar stopping its flying to float next to Byleth.

(Valimar) Instructor Byleth. Please get on.

Valimar held a hand out for Byleth to hop on, to which Byleth responded with a nod.

(Rean) “Valimar, where are you?!”

(Valimar) Awakener, the Instructor is here.

(Rean) “Instructor- Wait, Instructor Byleth?!”

(Minako) “HEY, INCOMING!”

Minato and Minako put their Evokers to their heads and summoned Thanatos, and it casted a massive sphere around them as the ice wall exploded.

From the mist, a massive angel stepped in, roaring and shaking the entire Cathedral.

It had four legs and jaws like the others, but the tail appeared to be some sort of snake-like creature.

(Yuri) “Tsk, must be that captain!”

(Aqua) “Come on, we’ll kick your ass!”

(Edelgard) “This is bad!”

(Albedo) “What do you mean, with all of us here it stands no chance!”

(Akira) “That’s what we thought at Enbarr too!”

(Rean) “We have no idea what the hell’s empowering them, but an ‘Inquisitor’ or whatever turned into one of these, not even Slayer laid a permanent scratch on it!”

(Megumi) “C-Come again?!”

(Bernadetta) “WHAT CHANCE DO WE HAVE THEN?!”

(Ingrid) “If I die today, I die for Faerghus!”

(Hubert) “And I for the Empire!”

(Kazuma) “REAN, WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR GIANT ROBOT!?”

A massive figure dropped in from the ceiling and landed in front of the angel who was approaching the group.

(Angel) “WHO DARES-...!!! YOU.”

Valimar’s hand went loose as it flew back behind everyone.

(Valimar) Preparing Spirit Portal. Please secure time for me to allow us a safe transportation.

(Byleth’s Voice) “Sara, catch.”

A pistol flew out from the dust and Sara caught it, and a smile grew on her face.

(Sara) “You took your time, didn’t you?”

[Boss Theme #2 - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

(Sitri) “Byleth...!”

(Futaba) “Cheesy reunion dialogue later, enemies are starting to come from behind!”

(Angel) “I WILL NOT PERMIT THE WARRIOR OF DARKNESS TO INTERFERE ANY LONGER! YOU DIE NOW!”

(Byleth) “I’ll worry about the finishing blow, who’s helping me?”

(Cocytus) “I WILL ASSIST YOU, BYLETH.”

(Sharon) “I as well!”

Doomguy nodded as he threw a few of his smaller guns at the School-Living Club and unsheathed his sword.

(Sara) “Well, looks like this is a good way for the staff to reunite!”

(Angelica) “We’ll join in the fight another time, we’ll take care of our kids!”

(Towa) “Good luck, Instructors!”

Byleth couldn’t remember the last time he smiled. Hearing their voices again brought him a calmness he hadn’t experienced in five years.

He also noted Sitri’s presence with them, but those questions will come later. For now-

The angel roared again, readying its tail.

(Byleth) “With me!”

(Sharon) “Understood!”

(Sara) “Got your back!”

(Cocytus) “FOR THE GLORY OF NAZARICK!”

(Doomguy) “...”

The angel spun around and had its snake-like tail lunge at the five.

Cocytus was the only one not to jump out the way, grabbing it with three of his arms.

It spat poison on the floor, which quickly began to spread into a wide area.

Cocytus stabbed it through its head with the arm holding the halberd and moved aside before the poison could reach him.

(Cocytus) “THE TAIL IS DOWN.”

Doomguy didn’t bother to look at the area he was jumping to as his shoulder cannon fired a grenade behind him, setting the poison ablaze.

He jumped onto the angel, which begun to flail wildly, trying to get him off.

Doomguy jammed his wristblade into it, but couldn’t do anything else other than hold on.

Sara kept its attention by repeatedly shooting it in the face with her pistol, which didn’t seem to do much other than annoy the angel.

Byleth appeared to be doing something with his sword and made it glow a black and purple aura.

(Sharon) “Arcus, activate!”

Sharon smiled and used her wires to wrap around the angel’s legs, making it slower and almost trip.

She dashed from leg to leg at high speeds, using her knife to slice open the parts behind its legs, then pulled the wires closer to her, making them shift into the open wounds.

The angel screamed loudly, flailing even more violently and finally flinging Doomguy off.

The wires broke off which made Sharon frown. It was still moving far too much for her liking.

And just as she expected, the wounds began to heal.

(Sharon) “Master Byleth, I trust you have a solution to our problem?”

Byleth didn’t respond and instead held his hand out, shooting out a wave of dark energy at the creature, making it howl in pain as the wounds suddenly stopped regenerating and caused miniature explosions.

He activated the whip function of the sword as he jumped onto the angel, and swung at the head, dicing many parts into pieces.

(Sara) “Arcus, activate!”

Purple lightning shot back and forth around the angel, slicing off entire limbs with Sara finally appearing where the lightning ended, right in front of the beast.

Byleth jumped off as Doomguy took his place, putting his sword between its neck and slicing downwards, severing the head.

The head was still alive and was about to lunge at Sara with its jaws before Cocytus used the top part of his halberd and impaled it to the floor.

Byleth’s eyes glowed red for a moment before deactivating the whip and looking at the angel.

He raised his hand into the air and began to absorb the light from the angel.

It then was enveloped by a dark aura which covered the floor they were standing in, making everyone take a step back.

When the dark aura disappeared, the angel was completely gone. Even the head Cocytus had impaled left no trace of any gore.

(Cocytus) “HMPH. I CANNOT HELP BUT FEEL A LITTLE DISAPPOINTED AFTER WHAT WAS SAID ABOUT THE LAST ENCOUNTER WITH ONE OF THESE.”

Doomguy shrugged in response as Sharon dusted off her dress.

(Sara) “Well, this one didn’t seem to be an inquisitor. If it weren’t for Byleth, I’m not sure we could’ve killed it.”

She smiled and turned to face him.

(Sara) “Speaking of which-”

That smile went away when she realized Byleth was heavily panting and on one knee.

(Sara) “Crap, Byleth!”

The four ran over to him and helped him up.

(Sara) “Rean, status?”

Rean sliced apart the last bat with his tachi and took a quick look around.

(Rean) “Now’s a great time to go!”

(Valimar) Opening Spirit Portal. Destination required.

(Dimitri) “Take us to Derdriu!”

(Rean) “Right, what Dimitri said!”

(Valimar) Acknowledged. Beginning transport now.

Everyone in the room was quickly teleported away from Garreg Mach.

Soldiers flooded into the room alongside the lesser angels but saw no trace of anyone left.

(Soldier) “W-What happened? I thought the captain was here?”

(Soldier) “Goddess save us...!”

They saw several burn marks on the ground that wasn’t caused by fire. Some of the energy was still emanating off and that's when they came to the conclusion:

(Soldier) “The Warrior of Darkness is with House Isekai!”

Several Agarthans were watching from a distance as the soldiers began to move out of Garreg Mach. The men and women in black robes looked at each other.

(Agarthan) “This is going to be a problem...”

...

Zanado, the Red Canyon, Present Day...

[Sands of Amber - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers]

Hilda yawned as she exited the tent she was sleeping in.

(Hilda) “Ugh, we gotta wake up so early...”

The skies hadn’t even turned blue yet and was still a crimson red over the horizon. Hilda groaned as Marianne exited the same tent and stretched.

(Marianne) “Well, at least we’ll just be exploring today right?”

Hilda rolled her eyes as she picked up her axe.

(Hilda) “Psh, my butt. Claude always says that and it ALWAYS escalates into a skirmish.”

The two walked beside each other as they moved down the resting area and towards the rest of the group.

Naoto and Rise were already up, staring at the same thing.

(Rise) “My Persona still isn’t picking anything up.”

(Naoto) “That can’t be right. Perhaps we need to-...Oh, good morning.”

(Marianne) “Hello. Still nothing?”

(Rise) “Not a thing. I still can’t believe none of us ever noticed this beforehand during the academy!”

(Hilda) “Well, I don’t think it was there to begin with...”

Hilda put her hands on her hips as she examined it.

The Golden Deer and Investigation Team had set up camp to examine a massive tower that went up into the sky, something that definitely wasn’t there before.

Or, maybe it was. Every time they stared at the tower, their memory got a bit fuzzy.

The tower stood out from the rest of the area, looking half natural formation, and half man-made. It had glowing blue lines throughout the entire structure.

Records seemed to indicate it had been there prior, yet earlier in the year when the Houses were sent to this canyon, it wasn’t present. Nor was it present during the previous five years.

Or, at the very least no one was aware of its existence until just recently.

(Marianne) “Perhaps we should wait for everyone else to wake up?”

(Claude) “Wow, Hilda up early. Didn’t think that was possible.”

Claude tossed everyone a canteen of water as he looked up at the tower.

(Hilda) “Speak for yourself! You used to sleep in all the time back in Garreg Mach!”

(Claude) “Well, I like to think I’m a changed man. Though sometimes I wish I hadn’t. Growing up sucks.”

His smile faded as he continued to examine the tower.

(Claude) “...Ugh, looking at this is just giving me a headache.”

(Naoto) “Perhaps this tower is messing with our memories and causing us to perceive things differently?”

(Claude) “Too early to tell, Naoto. And uh, little too early to start conspiring when we haven’t even gone inside the thing yet.”

When he looked at Naoto and Rise, another thing was starting to give him a headache.

They had been here for at least 3 years, yet not a single one of the Investigation Team showed any signs of having aged.

A velvet door appeared next to them with Yu and that strange girl Marie stepping out.

(Yu) “Mornin’.”

(Marie) “...Hey.”

(Rise) “Any luck, senpai?”

(Yu) “No. Margaret, Theodore, Elizabeth, and Lavenza had no idea what it was either.”

Yu held out the sample from the tower and Naoto put it near the crates.

(Marie) “Most we’re really able to tell is it’s definitely from this world. Other than that, Iunno.”

(Claude) “Then we’re really left with the worst plan we got...”

He sighed as he turned to the others.

(Claude) “Let’s get everyone up and grab some grub. After that, we’re going inside.”

Everyone nodded and turned around back to camp. Claude was about to follow them when-

“I see. Right until the very end, I've read this whole thing terribly wrong... All my hopes have fallen to ash...”

Claude first checked his throat. He was positive that he hadn’t spoken, yet...

He then looked behind him, and there was nothing other than a few crates facing the tower.

That was definitely his voice he heard clear as day, but there was no one around him.

(Claude) “The hell...?”

Shaking his head, sure he hadn’t gotten enough sleep and went back with the others.

Town outside Derdriu territory...

[Return of the Night - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

The townspeople watched from their windows as the massive ball of light began pulsating and eventually flickered out, revealing a group of people they had never seen before materialize into existence.

(Valimar) Apologies Awakener. This is as close as I am able to get.

(Yuri) “Huh? Why can’t you get us into the city directly?”

(Valimar) I cannot teleport anywhere without the magical currents in the area being high enough.

(Kazuma) “So, you just happened to teleport us in the middle of some backwoods town and had us scare the shit out of everyone here?”

(Megumi) “W-What about Byleth? I think he’s injured!”

(Byleth) “N-No, I’m not...just...so...tired.”

Byleth gently shoved off Sara and Doomguy’s arm and stood on his own.

It was then everyone realized what was different about Byleth.

He looked more jaded than anything, but what stuck out most was his white hair.

It was some form of green the last time they saw him, but...

(Byleth) “It’s good to see all of you again.”

Byleth made a weak smile, and Megumi was the first to hug him.

(Megumi) “Thank goodness you’re safe!”

She began to cry as Byleth hugged her back.

(Byleth) “Words cannot describe how relieved I am to see everyone okay.”

(Sara) “Oh come on, don’t start crying too. You might make me tear up too.”

(Rean) “Welcome back, Instructor!”

(Yuuri) “It must have been a long wait, Byleth-sensei!”

(Minato) “It’s only been half a year and that’s already been too long.”

(Minako) “We almost got the whole gang together!”

(Akira) “Nice to see you again.”

Dimitri and Edelgard wanted to say something, but thought it best to keep quiet for now. The Black Eagles and Blue Lions watched the class all speak to each other again.

House Isekai was as close as one could be, and seeing almost everyone reunited was a sight for sore eyes.

It reminded them of a certain missing House that could really make this feel like a proper reunion...

Sitri wiped away some tears, finally getting to see her son all grown up.

Megumi let go and motioned towards Sitri, and the two finally met face to face.

(Sitri) “Hello, Byleth.”

(Byleth) “Si...Sitri?”

She slowly reached out her hands, and Byleth grabbed hers.

Both of them made the same response, their eyes going wide.

(Sitri) “Look at you, hah...You’re all grown up...!”

Some of the group began sniffing and wiping their eyes but the rest smiled as they watched.

(Hapi) “Kiiinda feels like we’re intruding here.”

(Yuri) “Shut up, you’ll ruin the moment.”

(Balthus) “Nah, she doesn’t mean on Byleth and Sitri, dumbass. I meant the fact we’re doing this in the middle of a town.”

(Ainz) “Wait a second, Valimar said that he can only teleport us to areas with high magical energies. What’s so special about this town?”

(???) “Oh nothing. I just made enough energy to where you’ll teleport here.”

[Bedlam’s Brink - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers]

Everyone turned around to see Lahabrea leaning against a nearby building.

Sitri put Byleth behind her as everyone had a hand over their weapons.

(Lahabrea) “Oh, spare me the dramatics, would you?”

He got off the wall and looked at the group standing.

(Lahabrea) “And take a look at this! At...!....A-At...”

Lahabrea was cut off as he reached for his head.

(Kazuma) “...The hell is he-AGH, FUCK!”

Kazuma and his group were the first to reach for their heads, wincing in pain.

The next was the Phantom Thieves, Class VII, the School-Living Club, S.E.E.S, then the denizens of Nazarick.

Byleth and the Blue Lions and Black Eagles quickly followed, leaving Sitri the only one unaffected.

After a few moments, Byleth collapsed to the ground while Lahabrea fell to one knee.

(Sitri) “BYLETH!”

Lahabrea shook it off and looked back up to see everyone slowly recovering.

(Rean) “What...What was that?!”

(Fie) “Ugh, nearly split my head open...”

(Elliot) “Um...W-Was I the only one who heard voices during that?”

(Mare) “You too?!”

(Albedo) “That voice was my own, it was-Ugh...!”

(Yukari) “I don’t remember saying those things at all, yet...”

(Ken) “C-Clear as day? Yeah, same here.”

(Ryuji) “Hey, asshole! What the ‘eff’s going on with...us?”

Lahabrea slowly got up look back at everyone.

(Morgana) “You better have a good explanation of what you did to us!”

(Lahabrea) “...”

(Kurumi) “Tch, what?! Nothing funny to say now? No sass in ya all of a sudden?!”

(Emma) “Guys, he’s not alone!”

Everyone looked at Emma then back at Lahabrea who was still standing there, staring at them.

(Kazuma) “Sold us out to the Agarthan’s didn’t you?! Made them put shit in our heads!”

(Darkness) “You will pay for that, fiend!”

She was the first to draw her weapon, and the rest followed suit.

(Ainz) “Hang on a moment.”

Ainz finally took the time to scan Lahabrea with a magic detection spell.

As he was doing so, Megumi stepped forth.

(Megumi) “You’re putting a lot of time into people you’re supposed to hate. No more dodging the question, who are you, and why are you so invested in us fighting the Church and the Those who Slither?!”

(Minato) “Give us another stupid answer, and you won’t like what happens!”

...

(Lahabrea) “...They deserve to know.”

(Everyone) ?

(Lahabrea) “...Yes, I know what might happen if we do.”

(Towa) “Why is he just talking to himse-”

It was then Towa noticed the faces on Emma and Aqua. Megumin was quick to notice what she was looking at and caught on.

(Megumin) “Eh? Aqua?”

Kazuma had the same face as well. Akira, Morgana, Minato, Minako, all of Nazarick, Doomguy, and Sitri included.

(Edelgard) “What’s happening to them?”

(Dimitri) “Can someone give an explanation or-”

(Kazuma) “What. The. Fuck.”

[More than Truth - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers]

(Sothis?) “...Hello, everyone.”

She awkwardly rubbed the back of her head.

(Sothis?) “I forgot that not everyone can see me.”

Sothis had appeared next to Lahabrea, though she was wearing slightly more ragged and darker clothes.

Compared to the normal Sothis, she had a dark red dress and looked slightly older and more tired, but it was still undoubtedly Sothis.

(Albedo) “What sort of trickery is this?!”

(Emma) “S-Sothis was infused into Byleth such a long time ago! How are you here?”

(Aqua) “No...No! You’re not Sothis! This is some sort of magic that-”

(Lahabrea) “Would the Agarthans really go through the lengths to make an exact copy of Sothis that only certain offworlders can see, Aqua?”

By the tone of his voice, he had dropped any pretense of disguising his voice.

He took a deep sigh and shook his head.

(Lahabrea) “No...You and all of House Isekai have every right to doubt our motives.”

(Yuki) “T-That voice...”

Everyone started listening closely and realized what Yuki was hearing.

(Lahabrea) “Good, I can end this charade. Felt annoying as hell to keep up.”

Lahabrea reached for his mask and slowly took it off, putting the hood down and revealing his full face.

Everyone lowered their weapons, some gasped while some held their breath.

Sharon’s smile had went away a while ago but this was the first time anyone had seen her shocked.

Doomguy took off his helmet for a brief moment to make sure his visor wasn’t acting up, and saw the look of utter confusion on his face as well.

(Lahabrea?) “Sothis, go ahead and make yourself visible to everyone.”

Sothis nodded and did as he asked, making most of everyone jump.

(Sitri) “You’re...also Byleth? How is that possible?!”

(Kazuma) “Hey, don’t fall for it! The Agarthans did some crazy shit with Monica and Thomas way back! This has got to be the same thing now!”

(Sothis?) “Kazuma, it’s-”

Sothis floated towards Kazuma, but everyone quickly went back on guard.

(Kazuma) “Back off, asshole! You aren’t Sothis! This is some really clever trick so you can stab us in the back!”

Lahabrea looked at the Sword of the Creator and grabbed it.

(Alisa) “S-SITRI! GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

Megumi got in front of Sitri and stretched her arms wide.

Lahabrea motioned a hand upwards, motioning them to wait.

(Crow) “Nice try, that thing only responds to people with a crest of!-”

The sword glowed in response, activating in the exact same way as if Byleth held it.

(Crow) “...Flames...”

(Ainz) “Everyone...That is Byleth and Sothis.”

(Lahabrea?) “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at this reaction...”

He looked among the group, but all he felt were the eyes of complete strangers.

(Sothis?) “I told you this would’ve happened...”

(Lahabrea?) “I promise, I will answer any question you have. For now, let’s get to Derdriu and get your Byleth some rest.”

(Rean) “...Fine.”

Rean was the first to sheathe his Tachi, and Valimar stood up and began to walk with him.

Class VII eventually followed, then the rest of the group.

(Lahabrea?) “...”

(Sothis?) “I told you they wouldn’t remember us. They never do.”

(Lahabrea?) sigh “...I know, Sothis. I know.”

He put on his mask and hood again and followed behind everyone, Sothis floating behind.

(Lahabrea) “Hopefully in due time, they’ll remember us.”

PART 4: END

---

[Escape - Darling in the FranXX OST]

The forecasted rain wets us

What should I say to you, as you tremble? My soaked blazer is cold and heavy

I feel as helpless as a chick who’s left its cage. I felt that my dreams were on the other side of the heavy clouds

I digested only the sweet pain that spread in my chest

I wonder if it’d be better if I’d never met you

Hey, I can’t even see the stars

Hey, my tears won’t fall either

---

EPILOGUE:

The first thing anyone would notice stepping into the Hearing Chamber was that it was a blinding white.

The floors, the wall, and even the guards were dressed head to toe in white, with gold accents highlighting the armor and edges of the room.

Catherine never liked this room much, but whatever made Rhea happy. She guessed.

Catherine knelt down before Rhea, joined in by Alois, Shamir, Seteth, Flayn, and Cyril.

(Cyril) “Lady Seiros, the Warrior of Darkness has made a reappearance at Garreg Mach Monastery.”

(Rhea) “And?”

(Cyril) “...He has rejoined House Isekai. It would seem that this third party is making its move.”

Rhea frowned and looked back at her loyal subjects.

(Rhea) “Then we will make ours as well. Do not fail me, Inquisitors...”

...

Claude took a deep breath, opening the door to the tower.

The Golden Deer and the Investigation Team stood behind him, weapons at the ready.

(Yosuke) “Dude, you REALLY didn’t have any other plan than just walk through the front door?”

(Teddie) “This is a very terrible idea!”

(Leonie) “...No bear pun?”

(Teddie) “NO, CAUSE THIS IS A TERRIBLE PLAN!”

(Chie) “Daaamn, didn’t think I’d ever hear that!”

(Lorenz) “I, for once, agree with Teddie.”

(Lysithea) “And I didn’t think I’d hear THAT.”

(Yu) “Everyone keep quiet and...listen...?”

“You’re not me!” “The dreams of men don't amount to much. Sorry, but... it's up to you now.”

The voices flooding in gradually grew louder and louder, everyone being able to recognize their voice as they stood there.

(Claude) “What in the hell did we just find...?!”

...

Everyone continued walking towards Derdriu silently, unable to make words of any kind after what they just saw.

Lahabrea and Sothis continued to stay behind, unable to approach any of them.

(Sothis?) “So, what do you plan to tell them when they ask?”

(Lahabrea?) “The truth. They deserve to know everything...Even everything that I’ve done.”

He looked at his hand and clenched it into a fist.

(Lahabrea?) “...How many years have come and gone, since that day, Sothis?”

Looking back up, he saw House Isekai, the Black Eagles, and Blue Lions standing side by side.

(Lahabrea?) “How many years have we waited for this moment?”

Sitri was next to Byleth with the Pleiades carrying him.

(Lahabrea?) “For the House that stood alone against the storm?”

(Sothis?) “I suppose you’re not wrong. What about the Sothis of this time?”

(Lahabrea?) “I’m sure she’s watching us as we speak.”

Lahabrea’s attention turned to Sitri.

(Lahabrea?) “Even if they don’t know it.”

ACT 1: ENDED

[Shadowbringers - Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers OST]

One brings shadow, one brings light Two-toned echoes tumbling through time

Threescore wasted, ten cast aside Four-fold knowing, no end in sight

One brings shadow, one brings light One dark future no one survives

On their shadows, away we fly

The road that we walk

Is lost in the flood

Here proud angels bathe in

Their wages of blood

At this, the world's end, do we cast off tomorrow

One brings shadow, one brings light To this riddle all souls are tied

Brief our moments, brazen and bright Forged in fury, tempered in ice

Hindmost devils, early to rise Sing come twilight, sleep when they die

Heaven's banquet leavened with lies Sating honor, envy, and pride

One brings shadow, one brings light

Run from the light

Authors of our fates

Orchestrate our fall from grace

Poorest players on the stage

Our defiance drives us straight to the edge

A reflection in the glass

Recollections of our past

Swift as darkness, cold as ash

Far beyond this dream of paradise lost

HOME

RIDING HOME

DYING HOPE HOLD ONTO HOPE

HOME

RIDING HOME

HOME, RIDING HOME HOPE, FINDING HOPE

One brings shadow, one brings light One more chapter we've yet to write

Want for nothing, nothing denied Wand'ring ended, futures aligned

One brings shadow, one brings light One brings shadow, one brings light

You are the light

We fall

We fall unto the end

ONE WORLD’S END (The end)

OUR WORLD’S END (The end)

WE (Our world)

END (We won’t end)

I am shadow, I am the light

#House Isekai #House Isekai Shadowbringers #fanfic #crossover #byleth eisner #fire emblem three houses imagines #sothis #akira kurusu #minato arisato #minako arisato #satou kazuma #aqua #ainz ooal gown #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #Edelgard von Hresvelg #Claude von Riegan #yu narukami #megumi sakura #yuri leclerc

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tashaalyssa · 4 years

Text

Our Earth-Bound Angel: An Open Letter to Misha Collins

September 18, 2008. It was a Thursday.

A simple, ordinary day. Most of us went to work, or school and when we came home, we were so excited to sit down and watch the new episode of this little show we were all kind of obsessed with called Supernatural. You might have heard of it, two annoyingly handsome brothers, a ’67 chevy impala, saving people, hunting things, the family business? Yeah, that’s the one. All I remember is having a ton of uni work to do, and Supernatural was always one of my favourite ways to procrastinate starting my assignments. Little did I know that on this particular Thursday, I and the rest of the world, including the Winchesters, would be introduced to a strange, stoic, ocean-blue-eyed, trench coat wearing being by the name of Castiel, Angel of the Lord.

As I sit here today, in November of 2020, hands down the strangest year I have been alive to witness and fifteen years after this incredible, groundbreaking show aired, I wait with anticipation, heartbreak and a grateful heart as the final episode hits our screens. I’m on the rollercoaster of emotions, as is the rest of the SPN family. Sam and Dean Winchester, and Castiel, have been so much more than television characters to so many people. They’ve been role models, safe places, escapes, friends we could always turn too when we felt alone. They’ve fought heaven, hell and everything in between, all while helping us fight the demons that a lot of us deal with everyday; depression, anxiety, repression, silence, violence, cruelty and bullying. Which brings me to why I'm writing this epistle.

While Supernatural and it’s characters have been a crux of support, for me, there has been one soul at the centre of what I can only describe as a shift in perspective, mindset and spirituality that has changed the way I think, the way I live my life, the way I perceive the world and the way in which I am consciously aware. That soul is Misha Collins.

Misha is the kind, genuine, incredible, humble human being who brought Castiel to life. He took this iconic angel through his journey from stoic, unwavering, unfeeling solider to the caring, loving, brave, loyal man he is today. Cas gave all of us who lived in the shadows a voice, he was a lost soul who fought for good, for love and for family at every turn. He discovered himself, he figured out right from wrong, figured out emotions, how to be and how to love, he figured out what truly made him happy, his love for a single human being. Cas is the embodiment of growth, of acceptance and of love. He is, and will forever be, one of the most groundbreaking characters to ever grace our screens (pun not intended, but I'll take it), and it's an astonishing and beautiful legacy to leave behind.

But the real earth-bound angel is Misha, the person.

Misha has impacted and changed so many lives all around the world, not just with his character, but with who he is, what he fights for, and how he inspires. When he speaks, we listen. Where he leads, we follow. He has changed my life in monumental ways and it's interesting to think that a single person, who I've never even had the privilege to meet in person, has been able to change my entire life for the better. There is nobody quite like Misha; he's a change maker, an advocate, an educator, an activist, a philanthropist, an absolute force to be reckoned with. I’ve never seen someone who uses their power and platform of celebrity the way he does; to fight for good, to fight for change and truly make a difference on both massive and small scales. He has brought about more kindness, and more social and political change than I ever thought possible.

In 2010, Misha, with help from the SPN Family, founded a non-profit organisation called Random Acts, which was the result of an immediate need to help those who had been affected by the earthquakes in Haiti at the time. Random Acts is an entirely volunteer-run organisation aiming to inspire change and help make a difference in people’s lives through acts of kindness. I have been working at Random Acts going on four years now. In that time, I have seen and been apart of so much good, so much kindness, it has truly lifted my soul and filled my heart at a deep level. I’ve been able to work with some of the greatest human beings on the planet, and many of them who have become close friends. Those who I can talk too when things are rough, those who know life can be hard, but they always have your back. I cherish them, I feel blessed everyday to know them, and without Misha and his desire to do good, I would never have found this amazing family. How does one even begin to say thank you for that?

For those of you who don’t know much about Random Acts, we are a non-profit organisation dedicated to conquering the world with kindness, one act at a time - and let me tell you, that’s exactly what we’re doing. The people in this organisation work tirelessly to save the world every single day. We’ve helped suffering communities rebuild their towns, homes and schools, our partnerships with GISH* and The Legacy of War Foundation* in the Change A Life project has seen over $750,000 raised for those in need. Let’s also not forget the development of the Random Acts COVID-19 Support Program and the SPN Family Crisis Support Network*, which is dedicated to promoting awareness and providing resources to all those suffering from mental health issues, self-harm, depression, bullying and addiction. This year we are celebrating 10 years of kindness, and if you would like to know more about how to get involved or contribute to our anniversary campaign, you can do so here: https://www.randomacts.org/ten-years-of-kindness/

But wait, there’s more, because that’s just who Misha is, like I said, a force to be reckoned with. Let’s face it, 2020 has been a nightmare on an epic scale; COVID, racism, violence, the U.S presidency and the election, you name it, we’ve done it. Throughout this year, most of us felt our hope slip away bit by bit, the more we tried to fight, the more it felt like we lost. It felt as though the world was burning and we couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. I think I finally understood how Sam, Dean and Cas felt at the brink of every apocalypse they ever faced, because that is truly what this year was; the apocalypse. But whenever things got really tough, whenever I didn’t know what to do, or how to react or how to make it better, I knew I could turn to Misha, because he would have the answer. His light, his wisdom and his capacity for hope and goodness was never short of a miracle, and it was what got me through most of those gut-wrenching, 'I can’t do this’ days.

Misha is the type of person who acts on what he believes in, he is the person encouraging people to vote, providing resources and the information needed to make sure your votes were counted. He has had Random Acts volunteers bring snacks to people who were waiting in voting lines, he rallied his friends and the SPN Family to set up the SPN Phone Bank, he hosted the SPNVotes Zoom GOTV rally and episode watch party, and has provided us with Senate candidates and House of Representatives candidates lives and zoom talks so we can be as informed as possible. And that was just for the election. When the Black Lives Matter movement was at it’s height, Misha did everything in his power to educate, to assist and to fight for the rights of others: the GISH Change A Life project raised over $50,000 to fight malaria in Africa with Nothing But Nets and over $122,000 for Cut50 and Dream Corps' to help fight for criminal justice reform, he also provided us with access to discussions with senators and prominent leaders in social change so that we can be educated and so we can educate others on the serious issues that plague our society.

I could go on and on about this man, because the above only scratches the surface of what Misha has done for the world. I have never had someone impact my way of thinking and way of being on such an epic scale. Most of you who know me know that first and foremost, I’m an actor and I’m a writer. The inspiration that Misha has brought to my creative process is a feat in itself. To be able to watch an actor take a guest-star role and turn it into not just a main character, but a phenomenal example of development, growth and creativity has forever changed the way I approach a script and a character. The choices I’ve seen Misha make as Cas, all versions of, have both truly astounded and surprised me, I look up to Misha as an actor because he’s so uniquely creative. He’s not afraid to try things, he’s not afraid to push the envelope and get out of his comfort zones. He knows character and story so very well, he knows exactly how to use the full spectrum of emotions exactly when needed, and he has what I can only think to describe as ‘presence’, as ‘energy’ that radiates off the screen. Watching Misha play, develop and grow the essence that is Cas’ has been an educating and enlightening experience to watch as an actor.

For me as a human being, Misha has flipped the way I view the world and humanity on its head. He has this unbridled passion for life - and I don’t just mean in the sense that he loves life - I mean in the way where being around him, or listening to him, makes every person accountable for kindness and responsible for change. It’s not possible to follow Misha as a person and as an actor without being so heavily impacted by his views, his life, his art, his work, his capacity for good, everything. You don’t see that everyday. We don’t have enough of those kinds of leaders in our lives, and in a world where division and chaos is rife, people like Misha are our chance to save it. He is already so heavily impacting the way in which the next generation is going to behave, they are turning to him now to see how to be, what to do, how to make the world better. And he is teaching them and showing them the way and I couldn’t be prouder to call this man my idol.

So this is my thank you, in the best way I know how. In case nobody’s told you lately Misha, you are one of a kind. They broke the mould when they made you. You are the kindest, most inspiring soul and this world is so lucky and so blessed to have you. I feel privileged that I get to share a planet with you, and that I get to be living on this earth at the same time as you. You’ve changed the world, changed me, and changed all of us for the better. You’ve opened our eyes to issues and concerns, whether it be social, environmental, political or otherwise that we may not have understood or given much thought to before you showed us why we should. You’ve made us feel safe, you’ve given us the space and room to be ourselves, to not be ashamed of being different or unique. You have never judged us, but you have always encouraged and supported us. You have this beautiful way of talking to people, of using words to encourage and inspire and motivate us to be the change, to do the good, and to fight the fight. You light up any room you’re in or screen that you’re on, you make us smile and laugh, and when we feel down or low, it is you we turn too. Maybe you truly do have angel grace inside of you. You are the example to which I live my life by, and the standard to which I hold myself accountable. I hope one day to be even half the human being you are. I’m beyond grateful for everything you’ve taught me, about life, about acting, about being a good human, about being yourself and being the good you want to see in the world.

Thank you for Cas. Thank you for Random Acts and the Crisis Network. Thank you for GISH and the Change A Life project. Thank you for teaching me how to be better. Thank you for caring about the world. Thank you for your hope, wisdom and kindness. Thank you for changing the world. Thank you for saving our lives. Thank you for changing my life. Thank you for being you.

Some heroes don’t wear capes, some wear trenchcoats.

You are my hero. You are truly an angel, there is no fiction about that.

I love you.

xxx

* GISH: The Greatest International Scavenger Hunt, also founded and run by Misha, is an annual event that mixes the weird, the magical, the strange and the brilliant into one big machine that uses playfulness and creativity to spread kindness: https://www.gish.com/

* The Legacy of War Foundation: Co-founded by the incredible soul that is Giles Duley, to help empower and rebuild the lives of those who have been affected by conflict and violence: https://www.legacyofwarfoundation.com/

* SPN Family Crisis Network: Founded by Misha and fellow actors, Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki upon listening to the stories told to them by the fans about their personal struggles with mental health issues, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts/attempts, self-harm, and addiction in order to support and help fans cope with such issues: https://www.imalive.org/, https://twloha.com/, and https://www.randomacts.org/random-acts-support-network/

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