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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

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Like a fairy tale

Yandere!Diluc x maid!fem!reader

Wordcount: 1921

CW: Yandere and slightly suggestive themes.

You loved reading fairy tales as a child - they were magical and hopeful, a needed retreat for a child of destitute parents. They were a promise that if you were good and kind and beautiful enough, eventually some faraway prince would come by and save you from poverty. And you tried to be good - you were obedient and hardworking and you pushed your hardest in the local school, yet hardship and scarcity still trailed your every step - the meager earnings your parents made weren't enough to buy you nice clothes or let you eat until you were sated, which in turn made social interactions harder: some kids sneered and humiliated you, some tried to help you out of pity. You disliked both groups: whether they were friendly or aggressive towards you, they still looked down on you.

Thus you decided to distance yourself from your peers - there was no knight in shining armour galloping towards you on a snow white steed, yet a good education could be your golden ticket to a better rich life. It was hard at first - to work and to study and to help your parents all while ignoring the demeaning and insulting comments the bullies made, but you gritted your teeth and pushed forward, imagining how wealthy you’ll become in the future and in the end our efforts were rewarded - you graduated as the best student, that led you to receiving a scholarship from Sumeru academy. Sparks and shine appeared in your eyes as you read the letter, barely stopping yourself from outright squealing and jumping from joy.

The moment of happiness didn’t last long though, as a reality again reminded you that there’s no place for fairy tales in the real world - scholarship covered the full cost of apprenticeship, but only it - you still had to spend money on the journey from Mondstadt to Sumeru, a place to rent and food, and if you still could find a job after your arrival in the foreign country and pay off the later two, trip required mora that you never had. At first you had a mad idea to traverse Teyvat on your own two feet - it would be a slow and arduous process, but cheap nonetheless. You later gave up on this plan - archons didn’t give you any vision, nor did you have fighting and travelling experience to aid you on the trail that no doubt would be full of slimes, hilichurls and other dangerous monsters.

And that’s how you started job hunting - you took on any work that promised you a hefty pay, be it some boring reports for guild of adventurers or an exciting yet risky endeavor of getting information for an extravagant cavalry captain, which then led you to Dawn Winery. Head housemaid, Adelinde, posted a job opening for a maid, and the prospect of a stable salary, free food and comfortable bed was enough to lure you in there - two or three years ago the previous owner of the winery died in the accident and his successor left Mond for some reason, leaving the maintenance and management of the winery on the shoulders of the said housemaid.

After a quick interview, the head maid demanded you to show her your cleaning skills, which you effortlessly did, having to look after the house by yourself all your childhood. It seems she was satisfied, as she nodded to you and asked to follow her as she led you to your room. Compared to the other two maids here, Hillie and Moco, who preferred to spend their work time in idle chat, you came off as highly professional and diligent worker. This contrast raised both your position and salary in the winery, as Adelinde started to entrust you with tasks more interesting than simple sweeping and cleaning.

You were outside the winery the day you met Diluc - returning from the city and carrying several stacks of milk and wheat you got chased by the hilichurls. Monsters didn’t leave you, no matter how long and how far you ran. You were ready to drop all the goods and have Adelinde to scold you for wastefulness and dereliction when Ragnvindr appeared and stole a breath from you. He looked just like the prince from your childhood tales, impossibly pretty and strong, arriving just when the creatures caught up with you and then defeating all of them with a single slash of great claymore. And just like a fairytale prince he helped you to get up and collect the scattered baggage and asked if you were okay. Then you two headed for the winery, you didn't know that he was it's owner at the time, chatting and thanking him, as he carried purchases. Adelinde almost fainted when she saw the return of the prodigal master in your company. After hastily taking goods from his hands, she made you apologize for rudeness and insubordination, but Diluc interrupted you saying it was fine.

Ragnvindr heir returned back to the winery and life went on its own, except the unreadable glares Diluc started to send you when you both were in the same room. It started off small: the quick glances that soon grew into intense staring. With his impassive stone face it was impossible to tell why he was glaring at you so much, so you acted as polite and professional as you could in his vicinity - after all you didn’t want to get fired and look for a new job. The key to this riddle presented itself during one day.

It was a bleak windy morning when Adelinde sent you to the city again, and as you walked the sky darkened and rain started. You returned absolutely soaked and shivering, teeth chattering and limbs slightly numb from cold and when Diluc saw you he ordered you to change in a low commanding voice. Frightened by the possible dismissal, you hurried putting on the uniform. Because of the haste you pulled it too tightly, hiking up a maid dress a little. It wasn’t up enough to reveal your hips or thighs, showing just a portion of knees that was usually hidden by the wide skirt.

Diluc’s eyes were glued on the uncovered joints, a subtle blush appearing on his pale cheeks. You continued to work, feeling how he consumed your legs with his eyes alone. He is lusting after me. You didn't know what to do with that revelation back then, embarrassed and slightly scared of attracting master Diluc's attention.

Nonetheless, an answer quickly came on the next day as you found a bonus to your salary, so big that it could be considered a payment for the next month. Diluc, despite his usually impassive face, seemed to be ashamed of the thoughts he had yesterday, with the body language telling you of his true feelings.

A plan came to mind. You hated yourself for it at first - it was low and disgraceful, you felt like a stereotypical manipulative gold digger, yet still decided to realize it in life - you needed mora, as fast and as much as possible. Over the time you spent working at the Dawn winery you noticed that Diluc, despite his obviously high intelligence, wasn't really good at judging one’s character, so he fell for your scheme pretty easily. Design you had in mind was pretty simple - to stir him up with small, innocuous gestures and changes that would slip past the outsider’s eyes.

Sometimes you applied a thin layer of healing lip balm on your lips, that so conveniently happened shine and glitter under the light, sometimes you donned your dress a little bit higher, opening the view of two delicate knees and sometimes after cleaning and working all day you felt so hot that you had to unfasten one or two buttons to cool off. Diluc, despite not showing it on his face, was obviously distracted and aroused, hands clenched into fists and a shaky, barely controlled exhale escaping his nose.

He started to pile you with bonuses and prizes; “for a well done job”, he said one time, averting his gaze and masking the shame in his voice under a huff. He also started to request you to specifically clean the rooms he occupied, his eyes sizing up almost every inch of your body. You felt how the lust and desire radiated off him, how his hands itched to trace your skin and have you at his mercy, yet he stopped every time with his steel strong control and self-discipline. You sensed how it dwindled little by little.

Diluc, in some perverted sense, was that fair prince of your childhood daydreams that would save you from poverty.

You almost had saved up the needed amount of money when you noticed the loss of your most cherished possession - an invitation to the Sumeru academy and scholarship certificate. With heart booming in your chest you started to look for it in the whole winery, without giving out that you were searching for something. It seems that you were unsuccessful in your attempts, as master of the winery soon called you into the office.

Here, he was sitting behind the desk with a familiar paper in his hand - your eyes widened as you saw it and you had an urge to run up to him and snatch the invitation from him. You performed a curtsy instead, closing the door behind you and waiting for him to speak, eyes still on the sheet in Diluc’s hold.

“[First], you are a diligent and skillful employee, Adelinde has a very high opinion of you” he started from afar, a slight rosy blush dusting his cheeks at "skillful employee".

"So as your employer I wouldn't want any harm to befall on your person, and" he shaked the invitation a couple of times, "it came to my attention that you were planning on travelling to Sumeru. I advise you against this nonsensical idea".

You gritted teeth, careful not to insult him with the couple of barbed words at the tip of your tongue. Nonsensical idea? This was your goal, a main reason why you worked so much and allowed yourself so little.

“I am sorry, master Diluc, I am afraid I can’t abandon this idea”, you say, response flat and controlled, a thunderstorm of emotions hidden beneath the faux calm, “It is my goal, and the main reason why I work here”. So I can have a bright and secure future, in which I won’t have to worry about the tomorrow ever again.

“I also learned that you were born into a low income family and you had to struggle in your life because of that ” a sudden mention of your less than glorious origin makes your face burn from the shame you thought you buried a long time ago. You are stunned, so he continues: “I believe this little endeavor of yours is also motivated by your desire for a stable future. Drop it, I travelled all across the Teyvat and there are horrors that can easily destroy you both in body and spirit”.

He stands up from the desk, and gets closer to you: “I can look after and provide for you, just stay there and you won’t have to worry about the future again ”. His hold on the paper gets tighter, pyro vision shining with a dangerous glint. A faint smell of smoke spreads through the room - a warning if you remain stubborn and unyielding.

Who could have known that the fair prince was a greedy dragon all along?

#yandere genshin impact #Yandere genshin #yandere diluc x reader #Yandere diluc #Yandere genshin impact x reader #Yandere genshin x reader #Yandere #Diluc #Yandere x reader #my writing

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fanfic-archive · 3 years

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New Tastes

Helmut Zemo X Female Reader

Summary: You were working along side Sam and Bucky, despite not having been an Avenger like them, when things led to you having to work with Zemo. He wasn’t what you expected, being much more welcoming and charming than they had led you to believe. One evening at his Latvian flat would change everything, you just didn’t know if it was for the better or worse.

Word Count: 2547

The four of you had returned to the flat in Riga just over an hour ago after a confrontation with some Flag Smashers. You had been hurt in the confrontation but that was too be expected and it really wasn’t anything to worry about. You had assured Bucky and Sam that you were fine, as if they hadn’t been hurt as well, telling them to just go to bed and get some rest. Once they were more convinced, telling you not to stay up too late and to get some proper rest, they disappeared into their rooms for the night.

With a sigh, you walked over to the kitchen. Zemo hadn’t gone to his room yet but the three of you had become comfortable enough around him to not worry about you being left alone with him. You trusted that he wouldn’t hurt any of you, you even trusted that he wouldn’t run just yet, but you couldn’t say that you were completely comfortable in his presence. Something about him put you on edge, you could feel when his eyes were on you, it made you feel warm, but you couldn’t explain his effect on you.

Zemo was sitting on the couch with a book in his hands, you just ignored him as you grabbed a bag of ice. You wrapped the ice in a towel before pressing it to the bruise along your cheekbone.

“Are you alright?” Zemo’s voice made you jump as you turned to him, he was now standing in the kitchen with you. You hadn’t heard him move or approach you.

“Uh, yeah” you nodded, hissing slightly as you turned away from him and pressed the ice to your cheek again. The bruise still tender.

“Do you need any help?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned for your wellbeing.

“No, I’m fine” you assured him with a sigh, turning back to the Baron as to not seem rude, even if you still couldn’t meet his gaze.

“Let me help” he moved closer. You don’t know what it was about him or the way he spoke, but you found it difficult to resist him.

“…fine” you were hesitant but allowed him to offer his assistance.

“Sit” Zemo ordered gently as he took the ice from your hand.

Doing as he said, you took a seat on one of the stools at the kitchen island. Zemo moved closer, casually standing between your legs. It was rare that you were left alone with Zemo, your two friends being a little protective over you, so this was the closest you had been to him and possibly the longest you had been alone with him.

Maybe that was why you couldn’t look up at him and meet his gaze, everything about him was just too intense. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke, even his cologne now that you were close enough to be enveloped by the scent. It was strong but not overwhelming, it was warm and comforting.

You were brought out of your thoughts when Zemo lightly gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, lifting your face up so he could more clearly see your bruise. You just watched him as he iced your cheek.

“It’s a nasty bruise” Zemo commented, making you focus on his accent again. A sound you found near mesmerising. “But it should heal pretty quickly. You got off lightly considering you were dealing with Super Soldiers” he reminded you.

“You know” you breathed, unable to raise your voice any higher with him being so close to you.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, but you shook your head. It was a little bit of a lie, but you weren��t seriously hurt, just generally sore. “Are you sure?” he asked, not seeming completely convinced. You just nodded in response.

“Good” Zemo nodded, pulling the ice away from your cheek and placing it down on the island behind you. “Turkish Delight?” he offered.

“I’m not a child” you muttered, feeling like he was rewarding you for something even though you hadn’t done anything to solicit a reward.

“I never said you were. I was just offering you a Turkish Delight” he didn’t seem upset or amused with your comment, his expression remaining neutral.

“I’ve never actually had one” you confessed, neither accepting it nor turning it down.

“Then you must have one” he decided for you with a charming smile.

He reached for the vase that he kept his Turkish Delights in, taking one out before placing the vase down again. Unwrapping the candy, he held it between his fingers, you reached for it but only frowned as he pulled it away from you. Was he purposely messing with you?

Zemo raised an eyebrow at you before bringing the candy to your lips. You were stunned, silent and staring at him, unsure of how to react. But he was patient, waiting for a response rather than prying or backpaddling.

Slowly, you came to your sense, if you could call it that, and opened your mouth, letting him place the candy on your tongue. At this point it was fair to say that you were blushing pretty brightly, but you still ate the candy, trying to ignore the way he watched you as you accidently let out a small hum of approval.

“You like it?” he asked, already knowing the answer from your reaction.

“Yeah…it’s good” you nodded, finishing the candy.

“Do you want another?” he offered.

“Sure” you accepted, seeing why he was so fond of the treats. And so, Zemo gave you another in the same way as before, which you accepted with more ease.

“What else haven’t you had before?” Zemo asked curiously as you finished the second candy.

You found the question a little strange, not being sure how to answer it. There must have been plenty of answers to that question. But you thought about some of the things you had had for the first time since joining the three men in travelling to Riga.

“That expensive liquor of yours. Normally just settle for the bottle shelf stuff” you laughed lightly, attempting to ease the tension that surrounded the two of you, still trying to ignore how close he was. You didn’t want him to know how much it was affecting you, though you were sure that he already knew.

“That’s unacceptable” he tutted in disapproval. “Would you like a glass?” he asked.

“Sure” you nodded.

Zemo moved away from you, finally giving you the room to breathe. He rounded the island and fixed you both a drink. You watched him, admiring his side profile as he poured the drinks. Of course, it wasn’t long before he had returned to you, once again standing between your legs as he handed you one of the glasses.

“Prost” he smiled, raising his glass towards you slightly.

“…Prost” you repeated with a small smile of your own, clinking your glass against his.

Zemo watched you over the brim of his own glass as you both drank. “Better, no?” he asked, lowering his glass at the same time as you. “Better quality, better taste, smoother…but the burn is the same” he hummed, swirling the liquid around in his glass.

“The burn is better” you breathed, suddenly returning to the nervous, breathless state he had you in earlier. It seemed to earn a small smirk from the Baron.

“I’m glad you have been enjoying my hospitality” Zemo nodded, leaning towards you to place his drink down on the island behind you. Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his breath fan against your ear, knowing that your face has heated up as he pulled away again.

“You’ve been very generous” you cleared your throat, placing your glass down beside his, following his lead before turning back to him.

“It’s the least I can do for the people who broke me out of prison” he shrugged.

“Bucky’s going to make sure you go back; you know that right?” you asked, wondering if he thought he could eventually escape you all.

“I will deal with James when the time comes” he assured you, seemingly not worried about future threats.

“You probably shouldn’t tell me that…” you advised him.

“You wouldn’t break my trust, would you?” Zemo asked, his head tilting to the side slightly. You just shook your head, once again being made a little speechless. Did he truly think that you wouldn’t share any concerns with Bucky and Sam? Did he think you would protect him? “How are you finding Riga?” before you could dwell on it any longer, he distracted your racing mind with a casual question.

“It’s nice…beautiful” you smiled softly. “I’m not a very worldly person…I’ve never actually been out of the States before” you admitted.

“That is a shame” he hummed thoughtfully. “There is a whole world out there for you to experience, and you deserve to experience it” he told you, gently pushing some stray hair out of your face.

“Is that so?” you asked with a quiet curiosity. “It almost sounds like a proposition” you commented, your gaze flickering around his face. He had you on the hook and you both knew it.

“And if it was?” Zemo asked, but you don’t know how to respond. Was it a real proposition? Was it some sort of trap? “There is so much to experience in this world, don’t you agree?” you simply nodded. “But what is the point if you don’t have somebody to experience it with?” he shifted closer to you and you allowed it, remaining still as he hooked his finger under your chin, giving you no choice but to look up at him.

“I…I don’t know” you shook your head slightly, but his hold on your chin made the movements subtle.

“There isn’t one” he informed you confidently, but kept his voice low, making the conversation feel intimate.

“And you want me to…accompany you?” you asked in disbelief.

“I would be honoured to have you join me, and it would be my pleasure to show you what you’ve been missing” Zemo nodded. “There are so many things to experience, let me show them to you” he was impossibly close to you now, his thumb stroking over your bottom lip.

“…okay” you whispered, gaze flickering to his mouth before meeting his eyes again, “show me.”

With your prompting, Zemo’s hand moved from under your chin to cup your jaw, leaning closer to you. You instinctively lent into him; your eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed against yours. Fully closing the space between you, Zemo caught your lips in a kiss. You returned the kiss instantly, having accepted where this was leading a little while ago and craving it for even longer.

Zemo brought his body even closer, touching yours, as his free hand slid up your waist to rest at the bottom of your ribs. Allowing yourself to just let go and experience the moment, you slipped your arms around his neck, helping him shift closer yet again.

You knew that you shouldn’t be doing this, you knew who he was, but maybe that was why it lit such a fire in you. Even with the knowledge of this being wrong, you lost yourself in the sensations. His body pressed against yours, his mouth on yours, his hands on you body, his hair between your fingers. Just for a moment you were able to forget about everything going on with the Flag Smashers, about what Sam and Bucky would have to say if they caught you, even about who Zemo was.

Tilting his head slightly, Zemo deepened the kiss, making you hum into his mouth. You could taste the liquor he had been drinking, mixing with the sweetness of the Turkish Delights. It was addictive, as was he.

You didn’t even hear it, too lost in the man before you, but the sound of a door opening had Zemo swiftly but casually pulling away from you. You watched him, bitten lips parted, left breathless on the stool as he walked around the island, picking up his half empty glass like nothing had happened.

Your attention turned to Sam as he walked into the room, nervously turning to face the kitchen island and busying yourself with your own unfinished drink.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Sam asked with a small frown, noticing your flushed face.

“Yeah, ‘course” you nodded, not even able to look him in the eyes as you took a drink, focusing on the burn in your throat.

“Leave her alone” your friend warned Zemo sternly before crossing the room, for whatever it was that he had come for.

Bringing the glass back to your lips, you looked up through your lashes to see Zemo already looking at you, drinking from his own glass. You blushed further at his attention but still didn’t break eye contact, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

Thinking back over your experience with the Baron, you realised that if you hadn’t known who he was you never would have worried about him. He had been nothing but kind to you, often being a refreshing break when Sam and Bucky were bickering, he was generous and helpful.

Finally, you broke eye contact, shaking the thoughts from your mind. Yes, all of that was true, but he was an intelligent man, it could all be an act. But then again, what did he gain from messing with you?

Sam grabbed his laptop, shooting Zemo a glare as he left the room again. The sound of his bedroom door clicking shut being the only thing to break the silence.

“I think you should get some rest; we have more work to do tomorrow” Zemo spoke, one hand gently wrapping around your wrist as his other took the glass from your grip. You just looked up at him with a dumbfounded look, as he placed the glass down on the island that he was leaning over to reach you. You nodded and he released your wrist.

Once he let go of you, you stood from your seat, clearing your throat as you straightened out your clothes. “Goodnight” you mumbled, nodding at him politely before turning to head towards the bedrooms.

“Y/n” his voice stopped you, making you turn back to him, only to see him standing right in front of you. “Goodnight” his hands gently rested on your arms as he lent down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before stepping away from you, “sleep well.”

Once again stunned by the Baron, you turned and left the room quickly while trying not to look like you were rushing. He had told you to sleep well but you didn’t, you lay in the comfortable bed of his Latvian flat, staring at the ceiling while your mind ran wild with thoughts and images of Zemo. You didn’t know what had led to the moment you both shared only minutes earlier, you didn’t know why you felt this way for him, this urge to be near him, but you just couldn’t shake it. All you really knew was that it wouldn’t end here, if Zemo had something planned, it was going to play out until its natural conclusion. Whatever that may be.

#Baron Zemo x reader #Helmut Zemo x reader #Zemo x reader #helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

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spaghetti-explosion · 3 years

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Introduction

Higher-Dimensional Space

The world around us exists in 3-dimensional (3D) space. There are 3 pairs of cardinal directions: left and right, forward and backward, and up and down. All other directions are simply combinations of these fundamental directions. Mathematically, these pairs of directions correspond with three coordinate axes, which are conventionally labelled X, Y, and Z, respectively.

The arrows in the diagram indicate which directions are considered numerically positive and which are negative. By convention, right is positive X, left is negative X, forward is positive Y, backward is negative Y, and up is positive Z, and down is negative Z. We shall refer to these directions as +X, -X, +Y, -Y, +Z, and -Z, respectively. The point where the coordinate axes intersect is called the origin.

As far as we know, the space we inhabit consists of these 3 dimensions, and no more. We may think that space has to be 3-dimensional, that it can't possibly be anything else. Physically, this may be true, but mathematically, there is nothing special about the number 3 that makes it the only possible number of dimensions space can have. It is possible to have dimensions lower than 3: for example, 1D space consists of a single straight line stretching off to infinity at either end; and 2D space consists of a flat plane, extending in length and width indefinitely. However, nothing about geometry restricts us to 3 dimensions or less. It is quite possible—and mathematically straightforward—to deal with geometry in more than 3 spatial dimensions. In particular, we can have a 4th spatial dimension that lies perpendicular to all 3 of the familiar cardinal directions in our world. The space described by these 4 dimensions is called 4-dimensional space, or 4D space for short.

In a 4D world, there is another directional axis which is perpendicular to the X, Y, and Z axes. We shall label this axis W, and call the direction along this axis the fourth direction. This new axis also has positive and negative directions, which we shall refer to as +W and -W.

It is important to understand that the W-axis as depicted here is perpendicular to all of the other coordinate axes. We may be tempted to try to point in the direction of W, but this is impossible because we are confined to 3-dimensional space.

Why Bother?

Why bother trying to visualize a higher-dimensional space that we can neither experience nor access directly? Besides pure curiosity, 4D visualization has a wide variety of useful applications.

Mathematicians have long wondered how to visualize 4D space. In calculus, a very useful method of understanding functions is to graph them. We can plot a real-valued function of one variable on a piece of graph paper, which is 2D. We can also plot a real-valued function of two variables using a 3D graph. However, we run into trouble with even the simplest complex-valued function of 1 complex argument: every complex number has two parts, the real part and the imaginary part, and requires 2 dimensions to be fully depicted. This means that we need 4 dimensions to plot the graph of the complex function. But to see the resulting graph, one must be able to visualize 4D.

Einstein's theory of Special Relativity postulates that space and time are interrelated, forming a space-time continuum of 3 spatial dimensions and 1 temporal dimension. While it is possible to visualize space-time simply by treating time as time and examining “snapshots” of space-time objects at various points in time, it is also useful to treat space-time geometrically. For example, the distance between two events is the distance between two 4D points. The light-cone also has a particular shape that can only be adequately visualized as a 4D object.

Furthermore, Einstein's theory of General Relativity describes curvature in space-time. While it may not actually be a curvature into a physical spatial dimension, it is helpful to visualize it as such, so that we can see how space curves in 4D as a 3-manifold. If space in the universe had positive curvature, for example, it would be in the shape of a 4D hypersphere—but what exactly does that look like?

Many other interesting mathematical objects also require 4D visualization to be appreciated fully. Among them are 4D polytopes (4D equivalents of polyhedra), topological objects such as the 3-torus and the Real Projective Plane which can only be embedded without self-intersection in 4D or higher, and the quaternions, which are useful for representing 3D rotations. It is difficult to fully appreciate these objects without being able to see them in their native space.

Is it possible to visualize 4D?

Some believe that it is impossible for us to visualize 4D, since we are confined to 3D and therefore cannot directly experience it. However, it is possible to develop a good idea of what 4D objects look like: the key lies in the fact that to see N dimensions, one only needs an (N-1)-dimensional retina.

Even though we are 3D beings who live in a 3D world, our eyes actually only see in 2D. Our retina has only a 2D surface area with which it can detect light coming into our eye. What our eye sees is in fact not 3D, but a 2D projection of the 3D world we are looking at.

In spite of this, we are quite able to grasp the concept of 3D. Our mind is quite facile at reconstructing a 3D model of the world around us from the 2D images seen by our retina. It does this by using indirect information in the 2D images such as light and shade, parallax, and previous experience. Even though our retina doesn't actually see 3D depth, we instinctively infer it. We have a very good intuitive grasp of what 3D is, to the point that we are normally quite unconscious of the fact we're only seeing in 2D.

Similarly, a hypothetical 4D being would have a 3D retina, and would see the 4D world as 3D projections.

It would not directly see the 4th dimension, but would infer it using indirect information such as light and shade, parallax, and previous experience.

The key here is that what the 4D being sees in its retina is 3-dimensional, not 4-dimensional. The 4th dimension is inferred. But since we have a good intuitive grasp of 3D, it is not that difficult to understand what a 4D being sees in its retina. From there, we just need to learn how to infer 4D depth.

The rest of this document will describe in detail the basic principles of 4D visualization, as well as provide a number of examples of 4D objects. We shall take a purely geometrical approach and treat all 4 dimensions as spatial dimensions.

Dimensional Analogy

A very useful tool in exploring 4D, or higher dimensions in general, is dimensional analogy. Dimensional analogy is the process of examining how a particular geometric feature in a lower dimension relates to an equivalent geometric feature in our dimension, and then applying the same principle to relate our dimension to a higher one.

Let's examine a few examples to see how this works.

Boundaries of Objects

Let's begin with the very basics. Let's start in a 1D world. The 1D world is like a piece of string. There is only one axis along which one may move along this string, the X-axis. The only dimension any object can have is length, because there aren't any other dimensions to accomodate width or height. So the only possible objects in 1D are points, which are 0D, and lines, which are 1D.

In order to completely specify a line segment, it is enough to specify its starting point and its ending point. In other words, the boundary of an object in 1D consists of points, which are 0D.

Now, let's move to the next higher dimension. The 2D world is a plane, like the surface of a piece of paper, but extending indefinitely in width and length. The 2D world is much more interesting than the 1D world, because a much larger variety of objects are possible. For example, we can have polygons and circles, in addition to points and lines:

What is the boundary of a polygon? A polygon is bounded by line segments, which are 1D. A circle also has a 1D boundary: even though it is a curved boundary, it is fully specified by a single parameter: angle. So 2D objects are bounded by 1D lines and curves.

Now let's move on to the 3D world. Objects in the 3D world are bounded not by lines or curves, but by 2D surfaces. For example, a cube is bounded by 6 squares, and a ball is bounded by a spherical surface. The spherical surface is 2D, because any point on the sphere is fully specified by only two parameters: longitude and latitude.

We can see a pattern emerge here. Objects in 1D are bounded by 0D points; objects in 2D are bounded by 1D lines (or curves); and objects in 3D are bounded by 2D surfaces. In other words, points in 1D are analogous to lines and curves in 2D: they form the boundaries of objects in the respective dimensions. Similarly, bounding lines and curves in 2D are analogous to surfaces in 3D. So, by applying dimensional analogy, we see that in N dimensions, objects are bounded by (N-1)-dimensional boundaries.

This leads us to conclude that in 4D, objects are bounded not by points, lines, nor even surfaces, but volumes. It would be rather difficult to realize this without applying dimensional analogy. For example, as we shall see later, a 4D cube is bounded by 8 cubes. We call these bounding volumes the cells of the 4D cube.

Vision

Another application of dimensional analogy that has been mentioned before is the dimension of the retina in the eye of an N-dimensional creature. We are 3D beings, yet our eyes only see in 2D because our retina is only a 2D array of light-sensitive cells.

Why are our retinas only 2D? Surely it would be much better for us to have a 3D retina, so that we can see every part of our 3D world simultaneously?

The reason is that in order for us to see something, light must have an unobstructed path from that thing to the cells in our retina. A 2D retina works, because there is a 3rd dimension in which the light can travel unobstructed from the object onto the retina. However, if our retina were 3D, we would not see anything more, because light must pass the cells on the outer surface in order to reach the inner cells, so that what the inner cells see has already been seen by the outer cells. Since we are confined to 3D, there is no additional dimension in which light may travel to reach these inner cells by an independent path, which might have given us additional visual information.

This fact leads us to conclude, by dimensional analogy, that a 2D creature must only have a 1D retina. As the diagram above shows, when a creature is confined to 2D, there is no unobstructed path for light to travel from a 2D object to an inner cell in a 2D retina. Any light that reaches an inner cell has already passed an outer cell, so having a 2D retina would not help the creature to see more.

We can also conclude by dimensional analogy that in 4D, it is possible to have a 3D retina, because there is now an extra dimension in which light can travel unobstructed from the object being seen to any point on the retina.

We shall make much use of dimensional analogy to understand 4D in the subsequent discussions.

On the Nature of Vision

Since we're interested in visualizing 4D, let's take a more careful look at vision itself.

A Deficient Vision

As mentioned in the previous chapter, we 3D beings have a 2D retina, whereas a hypothetical 2D being only has a 1D retina. We are able to see the entirety of a 2D image, whereas a 2D being can only see a 1D projection of it at a time. For example, when we look at a square, we see this:

Since a square is a 2D object, and 2D beings are obviously familiar with 2D objects, we may think that this is how a 2D being would see a square, too.

However, when a 2D being looks at the same square, it actually sees only this:

This thin line is actually the square viewed edge-on. This is the only view the 2D being can have of the square, because it is unable to leave the 2D plane and observe the square from a 3D point of view.

When we 3D beings look at the square from our 3D vantage point, we can see all 4 edges of the square and all 4 corners at the same time. But the 2D being can see at most only two of the square's edges. It would need to walk around the square and look at it from different angles before it can see all 4 edges and all 4 corners.

Furthermore, it may not be able to tell from a single glance whether something is a square or something else, say a pentagon. It may be able to infer the 2D slope of the edges from the way light falling on the edge illuminates it, and, by doing so for each of the edges, infer that they are meeting at right angles, and thus deduce that the object is likely to be a square. However, it would need to walk around the object and look at it thoroughly before it could be sure that it's a square and not some other shape.

Why is this important?

The Appearance of Diagrams

This seemingly trivial point has far-reaching consequences when learning to visualize higher dimensions. To see why this is so, consider how we 3D beings may try to explain what a cube is to a 2D being. We may try to draw a diagram of a cube, thus:

Since this diagram can be entirely contained in a 2D surface, we may imagine that the 2D being would see it as we do: a hexagon with three lines within, meeting at the center. However, this is what the 2D being actually sees:

If you look at this line very carefully, you will notice subtle variations in shading, based on which the 2D being can tell the edges apart. At most two or three of the outer edges of the diagram can be seen at a time. Even after walking around the diagram and looking at it from every angle, the most the 2D being can discern is that the diagram is a hexagon: it cannot see the three edges inside the diagram at all!

To help our 2D being see the entire diagram, we would need to erase parts of the edges so that it can walk into the hexagon and explore the 3 quadrilateral “rooms” within it, thus forming a kind of mental “floor plan” of our diagram. Alternatively, we would have to construct the outer edges of the hexagon with some semi-transparent material, so that the 2D being can see through it and discern the 3 inner edges.

In other words, what is to us an obvious diagram of a cube is far from obvious from the 2D being's point of view. We see the diagram of the cube from our “overhead” 3D point of view, and can see every part of it simultaneously. The 2D being has no such luxury; it has to painstakingly explore each part of the diagram separately, and concessions such as holes in edges through which it can pass, or transparency in some of its edges, must be made in order to ease this process.

Floor Plans

Why should we care about a hypothetical 2D being's deficient vision, since we 3D beings do not suffer from such crippling limitations? This is because a similar situation applies to us when we attempt to visualize higher dimensions.

As we begin to explore the methods of visualizing 4D, we will be making much use of 3D diagrams and images that depict higher-dimensional objects—much like our diagram of the cube above is a 2D depiction of the cube, not the 3D cube itself. However, we can't draw 3D diagrams on a 2D computer screen, and even if we could, our eyes can only see a 2D representation of them at a time. So we are in a similar situation to the 2D being looking at a 2D diagram: we can only see a 2D representation of the 3D diagram, not the 3D diagram itself.

This point is vitally important to keep in mind as we begin to explore 4D visualization. The 2D images we will see may depict some 3D construct; it is crucial not to conflate the 2D images with the 3D construct that they are intended to convey. The 2D being looking at our diagram of a cube sees only a single line, which is of no help in understanding what a cube is. Similarly, a mere 2D image for us is of no help in understanding higher-dimensional objects either.

What is needed, in the case of the 2D being, is to explore the diagram thoroughly, and form a mental picture of the “floor plan” of the diagram, so to speak. It is this mental floor plan—a hexagon with three edges inside it, or rather, a hexagon made of three adjoining quadrilaterals—that gives the 2D being a glimpse into the nature of the cube.

Similarly, when we look at 2D representations of 3D diagrams, we need to understand that the 2D images themselves are not an adequate depiction of the higher-dimensional object. What is needed in our case is to form, in our mind, a “3D floor plan” of the 3D diagram being conveyed by the 2D images. It is this 3D mental model, not the 2D images themselves, that gives us a glimpse into the nature of the higher-dimensional object. Merely staring at the 2D images, as compelling as they may be, will not magically cause us to see 4D.

Keeping this in mind, let us now begin to look at some of the tools by which we may study the 4D world.

Cross-sections

Using Cross-sections

Since we are creatures confined to 3D, we have no way of directly exploring higher-dimensional objects. We can, however, employ various indirect means to study and understand them. One method is to intersect a higher-dimensional object with our world to see what its various cross-sections look like.

To illustrate this, let's apply dimensional analogy again. Suppose we are only 2D beings, living in a 2D world, and unable to see into the 3rd dimension. Suppose we're trying to understand what a cylinder is. We know what circles and squares are, because these objects exist in our 2D world and we can directly handle and see them. But we haven't the slightest idea what a cylinder might be. We have no way of directly seeing such an object, because our retina is only 1D, and a 2D retina is needed to adequately perceive a 3D object. What we can do, is to examine what happens when a cylinder passes through our 2D world:

As the cylinder does this, we can observe its cross-sections with our planar world. For example, if the cylinder descends through our world vertically, we would see a series of circular cross-sections, all of a constant size.

Now, as we have mentioned in the previous chapter, 2D beings cannot actually see the above image directly; they can only see the circular cross-sections from the side. The cross-sections will appear as line segments that show curvature from the way they interact with nearby light sources. Nevertheless, it is reasonable to assume that, as diligent 2D beings trying to understand 3D, we will, through careful study of these cross-sections from various angles, eventually form a mental model of these cross-sections that more-or-less corresponds with what is depicted above. For the sake of conciseness, we will continue to present these 2D images as they would appear from 3D; however, it is to be understood in each case that 2D beings can only imagine such diagrams in their mind after careful study.

In any case, from these circular cross-sections, we may conclude that the cylinder must be something circular.

We can also observe the cylinder passing through our world in a different orientation:

This time, the cylinder passes through round-side first. What we see is a series of rectangular cross-sections that seem to grow and shrink in length but remain constant in width. From this, we conclude that the cylinder must have something rectangular about it.

Thus far, we learned that a 3D cylinder is something that is both circular and rectangular. This is obviously correct. Examining cross-sections has yielded valuable information about the shape of a cylinder.

A Fundamental Weakness

Now, still supposing we are only 2D creatures, we have a hard time understanding how something can be both circular and rectangular at the same time, as we've just learned. As 2D creatures, we only have experience with 2D shapes, and none of them are simultaneously a circle and a rectangle. We may try to investigate this further by observing the cylinder pass through our 2D world at a 45-degree angle:

The cross-sections are now rather puzzling:

They consist not of regular circles or rectangles but of ellipses in various states of truncation. Unless we knew beforehand, we would probably not be able to deduce the shape of a cylinder from these cross-sections. We may even think that these are cross-sections of a different object altogether.

This illustrates a fundamental weakness of the cross-sections method: although it does yield some useful information, it is difficult to synthesize this information into a coherent model of the actual object. For example, if we only knew the above sequence of cross-sections of the cylinder, it would be rather hard for us to deduce that a cylinder has two circular lids and a curved side.

The following sequence of cross-sections further illustrate this weakness:

Can you guess what 3D object would produce this sequence of cross-sections?

Probably not, unless you knew it beforehand.

These are, in fact, cross-sections of the 3D cube, which are produced when the cube passes through the 2D world corner-first. It is rather difficult to know this just by examining these cross-sections alone; information about the object such as the number of vertices (corners) and the number and shape of its faces are not readily apparent. Most people probably don't even know that a cube can make a hexagonal cross-section with a plane!

Now, as 3D beings, we at least have some knowledge of 3D geometry to be able to imagine the cross-sections stacked on top of each other, and perhaps deduce a vaguely cube-like shape from them. But consider the following sequence of cross-sections of a 4D object with 3D space:

Can you figure out what the 4D object is?

Likely not, unless you knew it beforehand, since you would have a hard time understanding just how these cross-sections could fit together. Without an intuitive grasp of 4D, it is very hard to reconstruct the original object from them.

The fundamental problem with cross-sections is that we are examining the object piecemeal. Important features such as the number and shape of facets, the number of vertices (corners), and the overall shape of the object, are only implied, not explicit.

A better approach is to use projections, as we will discuss in the next chapter.

#part 1 of ?

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utilitycaster · 3 years

Text

Actual Play: How it works

This is a collection of how I think of actual play as a medium, because TTRPG actual play is a unique one - a combination of improvisation, a rule set, and randomizing elements. This isn’t fully comprehensive, and I may add to it in the future as I come up with more ideas. I’m also thinking of providing some examples/more in-depth stuff for the items in separate posts, so please let me know if that’s something you would want.

Most of the observations here heavily skew towards D&D and Pathfinder actual play, as they are what I know best. Other systems I’ve listened to (PbtA, Cortex, Savage Worlds) fit in here as well, but this may not apply to all actual play, particularly GM-less games or games that are primarily played as one-shots.

Finally, and I say this only because it is a recurring problem on the social media that I happen to find incredibly irritating: you are also welcome and encouraged to have other opinions, disagree with me, dislike all of this, etc. If you have things to say, my inbox is the best place; this is too long for multiple reblogs and this is a sideblog so replies are tricky. However, if you are the kind of person who is inclined to say things like “Actually, there was an exception to this rule! It’s in the backmasked audio at 06:59:32 in the outtakes of episode 192c of Dungeons and Discotheques! :)” I would like to provide you with this actual play line quote from Adaine Abernant in Fantasy High: I think that you feel like you have a lot to offer, and please take this the right way... you don't.

Onto the thoughts, below the jump!

On narrative devices and rules and the random element:

Foreshadowing is possible, but limited to specific circumstances. A GM can (and should) foreshadow! The point of foreshadowing is to set expectations, and GMs should have hints that indicate things about the world that the party may encounter later, provide potential plot hooks, or otherwise provide the party with information. Similarly, players can do things that nod towards as of yet unrevealed elements of their backstories. However, it is impossible to deliberately foreshadow plot resolutions, because it is unknown what they will be. That doesn’t mean that in retrospect things may happen that echo back to earlier events, but the intent to foreshadow was not there - it’s a happy accident.

I don’t want to say normal narrative rules don’t apply because what are the normal narrative rules, really? However, I think an important thing to emphasize is that narrative satisfaction is not guaranteed. This is especially true if the cast has agreed character death is an option, but even beyond that, an unlucky or lucky roll can seemingly cut an arc short or take things in a weird and unforeseen direction. Because there is an element of randomness, randomness will occur. This, along with the character agency I discuss later, is one of my favorite things about actual play. It strips out the need for a moral or message or specific beats - not that those can’t arise, but they can’t be forced - and as such it can make for unusual, creative, and very true-to-life stories even in a fantasy setting.

On character role, viewpoint and agency:

Actual play stories have an ensemble of viewpoint characters (the PCs). This is perhaps the clearest restriction that exists, at least in all of the game systems I’ve mentioned. There is no good way to depict NPCs acting on their own unless the PCs have a way to observe them, unseen (magical or mundane). It is extremely difficult to have one player play multiple PCs, and if a player leaves there is not a good way to recast their PC. This doesn’t mean NPCs can’t do things with each other offscreen that have implications for the story, nor that PCs can’t come and go or become NPCs, but it does mean a good GM is very careful about NPC interactions because it gets very boring and non-collaborative very quickly to watch someone talk with themselves.

The PCs hold a level of agency that characters in other media do not. Statements about how the characters have a mind of their own in original fiction aside (sidebar: I am team ‘they don’t, you just didn’t realize that the way you wrote their personality and the way you wrote your plot conflicted until you actually started writing it out, which is very understandable’) PCs do in fact have a mind of their own separate from the GM and from each other.

Something I like about this is that unless you are coming up with conspiracy theories regarding the interpersonal dynamics of the players themselves (in which case I think you’re both a creep and a weirdo (derogatory)) or if the GM is not respecting player agency (which I feel is usually very easy to see; see below for more on that) you do not get cases of “these characters are together simply because the author felt like pairing them off” as can happen in scripted media. Any romantic relationship is, inherently, a mutually agreed choice between the originators of these characters, and more generally any plot or relationship necessarily needs to have something that appeals to all characters involved. It may be as simple as “these are my friends and I want to keep hanging out”, but, despite this being improv, it’s a medium where saying “no” is always an option.

With that said there is still room for players to be uncooperative or selfish. It’s rare, but it does exist, and I’m personally of the opinion that it’s in part the GM’s responsibility to have a conversation with that player and to not play into their attention grabbing. That said, with one notable exception, all the accusations I’ve seen about this have seemed to me to be more “I don’t like this player/character/ship/arc and I am going to claim they are stealing focus, despite it being justified,” and not genuinely about a player being obnoxious.

Agency separate from the person who creates the world is perhaps the most unique element of actual play and at this point I’m going to talk a little about how a good GM fosters that.

I’ve said before that when a GM has things happen that are not at least mostly a direct response to character actions, they are typically either world-building or a hook, and can be both. I think of this sort of as a variant on Chekhov’s gun, actually; the gun doesn’t have to go off, ultimately, in actual play, but it is saying the following:

This is a world where there are guns hung on the wall sometimes.

Someone else might do something with this gun.

You can attempt to do something with this gun before they do.

And then the players decide how they want to interpret it and what they want to do, and the dice indicate the level of success in doing so.

A good GM should encourage the players to explore and be creative, and more than anything, reward agency. This doesn’t mean rewarding it with success; rather, it means if someone explicitly indicates they want to interact with an element of the world, you should give them the tools such that eventually, they can try to do so. You can also give them reasons in-game why they should change their mind, or make it so that it’s almost certain to fail if that is reasonable, but if you are trying to flat-out shut it down without providing an in-world reason why, the cracks will almost certainly show.

One important thing to remember about GM-ing: GMs will probably come into the game with some ideas of what’s going on in the world, and some level of understanding of what the world looks like. That will be influenced by the players, both in terms of the consequences of their actions and choices, and also by what the players are interested in. Which is to say: even if there is a session zero, and the GM states a specific premise, that can change! Characters develop, player interests change, dice rolls do weird things, and so a good GM absolutely must if not kill their darlings at least remove, recycle, and adapt them based on the direction of the game and motivations of the characters. Even in a plot-driven campaign, the players and GM and what makes them happy needs to drive the story, because fundamentally, this is a game that should be fun. Which brings us to...

On the Watsonian and the Doylist in actual play:

Stepping back for a second: the context in which people are creating fiction influences them. End of sentence. It’s ridiculous to think it doesn’t. This means everything from political events and worldwide trends, to the media the creator is consuming or has consumed, to personal life events. There are always going to be in- and out-of-universe explanations for choices in fiction.

In actual play, the players and GM know the underlying rules of the world, and it’s difficult to truly split the party and have everyone not involved leave in a way that feels fun, so everyone always has information that they can’t really use in-game. Also it’s a fully improvised medium that is primarily theater of the mind, so unconscious choices, misunderstandings, and accidents are frequently not edited out, and people are human. Which is to say I think it’s important to take this into consideration in one’s analysis; it’s not that you can’t incorporate a Watsonian reason for something that happened, but Doylist reasons are given a weight that they may not have in an edited work.

Three of the Doylist reasons beyond the misunderstandings and accidents I wanted to cover are metagaming, awareness that this is for an audience, and character knowledge.

Metagaming exists in many TTRPGs, and it’s not actually inherently bad. When a DM in D&D says “that just hits” you get an idea of the AC of the creature, and you know your own attack rolls, and you can make decisions based on that, when, in a ‘real’ fantasy battle scenario, you probably wouldn’t gain all that insight from a single hit. The rules of the TTRPG are considered part of normal acceptable metagaming. There’s also the more general one; if you start the first session in a tavern, there is an unspoken expectation that the PCs will interact and form an impromptu group and not just quietly drink their ale and leave - basically, the rules of improv still apply. This is a good thing. And finally, there’s the acknowledgement that you are people with feelings and this is a game and so if someone is upset you stop, or you have discussions about consent between sessions that inform actions in-game. Metagaming just gets obnoxious when someone rolls a nat 1 and then argues that this is obvious information and they should know, or looks up every monster in the manual when you encounter it instead of playing true to the character’s knowledge.

In actual play, the ‘hey fellow tavern-goers, would you like to be a group’ form of metagaming, the “oh right this is a story and we should move the story forward,” is even more important than in home D&D games. This is where I recommend listening or reading some Q&As or watching some after shows, because you’ll hear players talk about this. A 5-hour shopping episode or extensive foraging can get boring to watch or listen to (and unlike accidentally boring or frustrating things, are pretty easy to predict and avoid). On the flip side, a risky choice might seem more appealing when you know there’s an audience who would love the payoff.

I am personally, perhaps unsurprisingly given what I said about player dynamic conspiracy theories and randomness (or, outside of this post, my strong dislike of certain popular fan theories), not a big fan of creators catering to audiences’ every whim...but it’s unavoidable that they will take the audience experience in mind.

Finally, character knowledge, which is the opposite of metagaming - when a character knows something the player doesn’t. This is sometimes covered with, for example, GM statements like “you would know, as a person with history proficiency, that this country is actually in a regency period.” If the character had, in improv, before the GM had a chance to say that, mentioned the king, that’s just because the player did not know that and had made an assumption.

Personally I find going deep down the rabbit hole with things like this - “why doesn’t this character, who CLAIMS to be from this country, not know this?”, or clearly OOC statements - tends not to actually spark any interesting theories, but that is, ultimately, an opinion.

A few final thoughts on different formats of actual play

True livestream/live-to-tape (Critical Role, Into the Motherlands, and the second season of Fantasy High): the main thing to keep in mind is Doylist explanations are even more important because there is quite literally no editing. Also, there will possibly be some of those more boring stretches or even a little OOC metagaming discussions within the structure of the game, because there’s no way around it.

Editing, but primarily just to remove long explanations/math and doing soundscaping (NADDPod, Rusty Quill Gaming): Pretty similar; a lot of them even make the choice to leave in OOC metagaming discussions, so it’s mostly that there are fewer cases of people slowly adding numbers.

More extensive editing and possibly some predefined other elements (TAZ, most Dimension 20 shows): this may fall into a more traditional story structure. It’s not to say that there won’t be surprises, because the players do still have agency, but the ‘rails’ might be a little more apparent; there might be some DM monologuing done after the fact (beyond just cleaning up the audio) or choices that were not scripted per se, but not exactly improvised either (think how D20 tends to have pre-set battle maps and earlier seasons had a pretty strict RP/Battle structure.

Somewhat relatedly there are broad story structures, which is more of a spectrum, ranging from sandbox (Critical Role) to very clearly GM-driven missions (TAZ Balance and, to an extent, Amnesty); nearly all of the other shows here fall into a structure of “here is your overall goal, how precisely you get there is up to you although, like any GM, I will provide in-story information on where it may make sense to go that will often funnel you towards specific places.”

I do have a theory that since TAZ Balance in particular was an entry point for so many people, it takes them time to adjust to the more sprawling, unpredictable, and difficult-to-organize stories other actual play can have, but ultimately it is a matter of personal preference and all of these still fall into the category of actual play.

#long post #today in: unsure if anyone wants to read this but that has also never stopped me not even once #and writing this was fun

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readerinsertfanfiction · 3 years

Text

The Bae’st of All

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Kyubae the bae’st bae of all aka Kyubei

Prompt: Seeing how Kyubei is named after an alias that the real Mitsuhide Akechi used (Juubei) the chances of fans getting a Kyubei route from Cybird are slim. However, it is simply impossible not to fall for this man. He is too good. So here have my attempt at writing a route.

The key of the previous chapter was (Romantic/Dramatic):

+4/+4

+2/+4

+4/+2

A/N: So, everyone except from one voted Dramatic so far. You guys have until 10.2 to vote which route comes out first. Gogogo!

Chapters:

1.1| 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 5.1 | 5.2 | 6.1 | 6.2 | 7.1 | 7.2 | 8.1 | 8.2 | 9.1

I woke up with Kyubei's haori still wrapped around me and the sun slowly warming up the cave as it brightened the world around me.

"Ye up yet?"

Motonari's snarl reminds me of where I'm and I jump up at the sound of his voice, suddenly alert as I face the pirate with the wicked smile.

"Boo. Get up already."

Ignoring the sarcasm I turn my sight around in search for the only familiar figure I have known as Motonari scoffs once more.

"He is gone, off to that treacherous master of his."

The way Motonari says this chills me as I wonder how he fits into the story. Whether he had anything to do with the sudden chaos in the Oda forces.

The chilling smile Motonari gives me confirms it all as he tilts his head at me.

"I see that ya have a brain."

Somehow I just know that it isn't a compliment. Not with the way he smiles and grins and I suppress all further questions as I slowly get up, wrapping Kyubei's haori around me.

"What are you planning to do with me?"

The faint scent of Kyubei still lingers on in the fabric of his coat. There is the smell of tea, the outside and incense, but there is something else as well as I feel the weight of an object in a hidden pocket sewn inside.

Motonari laughs at my question, tauntingly so as he kicks out the last remains of the fire we had, erasing all evidence that we had spent the night here. The man only tells me one thing, one single word that chills me to the bone:

"Chaos."

Stumbling through the woods I have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Mitsuhide has allied himself with Motonari. From all the time I spent at the Akechi manor and the lessons Kyubei taught me about strategy it just didn't make much sense. And yet…

"No more spacing out. We have arrived."

Motonari's voice pulls me out of my thoughts as we stop in front of a temple, the familiar figure of the monk I had met the first night I arrived, appearing daunting and stolid.

"You're meant to bring me weapons, not a miss."

Kennyo's voice is flat as he addresses the man, earning him a cocky smirk from the other.

"Thought I should switch it up and loosen you up a little by bringing you a wench."

Kennyo's expression contorts into something akin to disgust and anger, his lips pulling into long lines as he glares at Motonari.

"Spare me your vile jokes. I know she is favoured by Nobunaga."

I gulp at the cold words, but feel a need to correct the both of them, not liking the assumptions or the suggestions made. But the tension between the two allies continues as Motonari scoffs once more, clearly enjoying the taunts.

"It is what makes her a good hostage."

Motonari cuts off my chance to speak up as they discuss my fate, my stomach sinking further as I wonder if Mitsuhide is within this league as well. It seems so unlikely, but then again, the pair that Motonari and Kennyo make seems contradictory as well.

"You only mean to ditch her with me to lure that vassal away. Don't deceive me."

Kennyo's unimpressed tone confirms some of my suspicions. It does nothing to reassure me as Motonari shrugs once more.

"Well-informed as ever. You and I both don't trust that fox and his foxling."

Sheer confidence meets disdain and the tension between them is suffocating, my heart beating erratically in my chest as I try to figure out an escape route. If there was any…

"And yet you have led them right to my base?"

Kennyo's suspicion seems to be rising by the minute, as his glare deepens. For a moment I worry about my own fate, wondering with whom I will be stuck with for the day until I can finally escape.

(Kennyo definitely seems nicer, but also more cautious. Chances are that I will have fewer opportunities to escape the monk than I have with the pirate, but even that’s uncertain. Motonari looks like he will actually shoot me with his cannons.)

(It doesn’t seem to matter who will take me at this point, I’m doomed either way.)

A deep sigh escapes me as I contemplate my pessimistic thoughts, quietly apologising to Kyubei for the failed lessons he had taught me. In the meanwhile Kennyo and Motonari had continued their debate, going back and forth on who is to take me.

"Heh. You'll be gentle with her, I know that as well. They might actually spare you for that. Don't worry, I will come back later. When the fox stops sniffing."

With this Motonari leaves, departing without giving me another word or even a look. It relieves me just a bit, as Kennyo turns towards me with an unreadable look in his eyes, his staff reflecting the early sun as he motions for me to follow him into the temple.

"You are an unlucky miss to be caught in this endless fighting of men."

Kennyo's voice startles me, his tone gentle in contrast to the suspicion in which he had treated Motonari with. It was almost as if he was coaxing a hurt animal instead, scared and huddled together, or speaking to a scared child. The broad back of the monk suddenly seems a little warmer as I’m reminded of another man.

"We're all caught."

"I pity you more."

"There is nothing to be pitied."

My words startle him as Kennyo throws a look over his shoulder, revealing his scar that is now pulled taut into a difficult expression. Somewhere I can see a warmth within him that he has smothered out in spite and in bitterness.

"We all have our role to play in this war. Yours shall be the key to bring down the Oda forces."

Kennyo states this so solemnly I can hardly believe that he means to actually use me, but I don't mistake the determination in his eyes, nor the bitterness the pull in his lips reveal. This was a man who is willing to go through hell and back to win this fight.

(Kyubei had once told me what happened to Kennyo and his temple and what the reasons behind Nobunaga's actions had been. It is unfortunate to see what this decision has led to, but another consequence of this turbulent time without peace.)

"To think that the foxling is a man after all."

Snapping out of my thoughts I face another wry smile from Kennyo. One that instills a dread within as I try to decode the meaning behind his words. It was clear, however, that the monk wasn't referring to Mitsuhide.

(Though Kyubei is a bit too tall to be called a -ling…)

"I was just another task handed to him."

I try to dispel the implications of Kennyo’s words and assumptions. Though the way Kennyo shakes his head in solemn disagreement makes it clear that neither of us are convinced by me.

"He won't betray his lord for me."

I try again, but realise that I have no clue what Mitsuhide's aim was, or what his plans were. Kennyo's expression contorts as he eyes me severely.

"He stepped out of the shade the moment he gave you his haori. You will be what will tie his hands."

Those dreaded words make me wonder what Kennyo is planning and what Kyubei’s role is in this collaboration with Motonari. But above all, I dread to find out what it is that Kyubei will choose.

(I don't want him to make that dreadful choice.)

Kennyo leads me into a small room at the back of the temple, leaving me behind there with a warning and some guards as I determine myself to start reflecting on all my lessons with Kyubei.

(I can't play the damsel-in-distress anymore. Not if I wish to protect the shadow I have come to love.)

#ikesen kyubei #ikemen sengoku kyubei #kyubei x reader #kyubei's route #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen x reader #ikemen sengoku x reader #ikesen kyubae #kyubae

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wolfstarflowerpottstarchaser · 3 years

Text

How I imagine Rose Granger-Weasley

She grew up playing in WWW

Ron was a stay-at-home Dad with Rose until Hermione fell pregnant with Hugo, and he took on a role at WWW to help with bills (more on this in an old post)

Rose gets on with both of her parents, but she’s definitely a Daddy’s Girl and Hugo is a big Mummy’s boy

Rose and Hugo fall out sometimes like all siblings do, but she’s very protective of him for the most part

She is a very stereotypical big sister and she definitely inherited her mother’s knack for bossiness, ordering Hugo about whenever they played games

But she made the most fun games and Hugo didn’t mind letting her take charge because she was the best at imagining

Of all her cousins, she’s closest with Albus. Maybe because they were the closest in age, they would often get sat together at family events and they became very close, but really she was close with all her cousins

When she’s at Hogwarts, she hangs around mostly with Albus and Scorpius, but (since they’re in a different house) she doesn’t see them all the time. That’s okay with her, though, because she likes to have time to herself, reading and painting

Like Ron says, she takes after her mother

She’s definitely a bright witch so no one’s real surprised initially when the Sorting hat places her in Ravenclaw

“Hermione Granger’s daughter, you know? Just like her mother, I’m sure”

But classes start and her teachers are surprised by her behaviour. They expected her to be just like Hermione, but her behaviour is much more like Ron

In class, she’s often told off for daydreaming and letters were definitely sent home fairly often informing Ron and Hermione that she wasn’t paying attention in class

Instead, more often than not, she would sketch instead of take notes. She was a good little artist

In her first class with McGonagall, she drew a picture of her animagus form in her witch’s hat, and it was confiscated

Sometimes she would enchant the pictures to move, but other times she would prefer to keep them still and admire the world she created trapped in a single moment

When end of year exams came, her teachers were pleasantly shocked she had passed most of her subjects with mostly ‘Exceeds Expectations,’ a couple ‘Acceptables’ and even one ‘Outstanding’ in astronomy after a year of late homework and not paying attention

Around third year, she started feeling more anxious about her academic performance. Her whole life, she was being compared to her mother and now that Hermione was the Minister, the pressure was worse than ever

She felt as though people met her, daughter of Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, and Ron Weasley, also one of the bravest fighters during the war, and they expected something… better

It was an impossible life to live up to

She tried to do better, push herself to get those top marks in subjects. She really tried her hardest in class, asking questions and taking notes, and she stayed up late into the night to get more studying done

Rose stopped drawing, stopped painting, stopped everything that made her happy, including seeing her friends and cousins. There was no time anymore

James was the one who finally wrote to her parents, but apparently he hadn’t been the only one who had noticed

Rose was asked to stay behind after transfiguration with McGonagall. Minnie poured them some tea and offered Rose a biscuit, which she took quite happily

“I’ve noticed a change in your behaviour, Ms Granger-Weasley,” she said. “Apparently I’m not the only one. Professor Longbottom has conveyed similar changes in herbology. It’s almost as if your mother is back in my class.”

Rose smiled, tired from lack of sleep, but pleased. “Thank you!”

“I also noticed a few other differences,” she continued. “For example, I have seen you falling asleep in the Great Hall during meal times, and it’s been a long time since you’ve shown me one of your wonderful pictures.”

“Well, Professor, I’ve been trying a lot harder in all my classes,” Rose said. “There’s time for silly hobbies after I’ve completed my education. I need to be focused like my mum was.”

And then McGonagall went on to tell Rose the importance of not overexerting oneself and the toll it can take on your mental health

“I imagine that it’s not always easy being the child of two famous parents, especially when they achieved so much at a young age, but… you are your own person. Not your mother or father and nor would they want you to be. You are Rose Minerva Granger-Weasley, and you have your own wonderful destiny.”

Rose was stunned. As she left, McGonagall added, “For the record, I have never considered your art a silly hobby,” and Rose noticed her slip something into her desk drawer. The same picture she had confiscated from her two years ago

She really listened to her that day. She was not Hermione or Ron. She was a little bit of both and then some. She was Rose and she had her own path to take

That night, she used a paintbrush for the first time in months and felt herself again

Something occurred to her. She wasn’t the only one who loved art. If they teach it in muggle schools, why could they not have art classes in Hogwarts?

That said, why stop there? What about things like music?

A few days later, she went to see McGonagall again, this time with five pages filled with signatures

“These are the students who think we should have an arts and music programme at Hogwarts. There are so many empty classrooms and the school definitely has the funding.”

McGonagall smiled proudly. “This is quite something you’ve put together, I’ll propose it to the board.”

It took some time, but eventually the board had to agree because so many students were demanding it

Obviously, Hermione and Ron were so proud

Fifth year starts and Rose joins the quidditch team, chaser like her Aunt Ginny

Around this time, she becomes friends with a fourth-year muggleborn witch also new on the team, Darlene

She realises (or, more accurately, let’s herself realise) that she’s got feelings for Darlene

She tries to ignore it, but one day, Darlene kisses her and she can’t ignore it anymore

Over Christmas break, she comes out to her family, and holds her breath

But, of course, they’re all so supportive

Ron is especially eager to meet her new girlfriend, insisting she stay with them for a week over the summer

When Albus and Scorpius come out a year later, she’s the only one who’s shocked

She’s seen them together more than anyone, but somehow was the only one who missed it entirely

Like her Uncle Harry, she can be totally oblivious

(Except this time, even he knew)

When Rose left school, she became an artist… but decided she wanted to explore her Muggle heritage

She stayed with her maternal grandparents for a while, and then started to sell her paintings in muggle art galleries

After Darlene finished Hogwarts, they got a small place together, and saved for several years until they could afford…

Their own café on Diagon Alley. Darlene loved to bake and her cakes quickly became famous, and Rose’s artwork (now painted with magic again) we’re selling more than ever, and other artists were showcasing their work there now, too

They lived above the café in a small flat

It wasn’t until they were in their late 30s that they decided to get married, and it was a small, intimate wedding

(Yes, Ron cried his eyes out)

They never had kids, neither of them wanted to be mothers and were quite happy just being aunties

But they did have a cat. Her name was Minnie

#rose granger weasley #hermione granger #ron weasley #headcanon #Darlene #wlw #my version of…

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hollywooduniversityalumnus · 3 years

Text

7. all filled up with things benign

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Much like any other university, Hollywood University required a metric fuck-ton of paperwork to be submitted for approval of an extended leave of absence from classes. However, unlike most universities, Hollywood U encouraged such leaves, under the condition that they were for career-related endeavours, like a six-week film shoot overseas or back-to-back tapings of a new television show being optioned for one of the many streaming services. Not only would the student receive invaluable “real world” experience, a credit for their resume, and financial compensation, but the university could leverage the experience for positive publicity (and, therefore, receive financial compensation as well).

Though Hollywood U professors stressed the importance of finding work in the industry while studying, most of the students attending the university stuck to using their class projects as resume builders and spent their free time partying and cavorting around California. Those students typically found themselves scrambling to find work once they did graduate, as they had not built enough connections and rapport to be personally contacted for a job. It was sad to see aspiring directors and actors with untapped potential head back home with their heads down and dreams dashed.

Still, Thomas thought, if Hollywood U wanted faculty and students alike to enthusiastically take part in school-sanctioned leaves, they ought to consider making the paperwork less tedious.

He stared down the stack of paperwork that Miss Schuyler had so kindly left for him to deal with. It wasn’t as thick as the stack Priya had once left him – a list of complaints and observations about the students she shared with him, which he promptly recycled, because even he had a limit to his negativity – but it was daunting to look at, especially since he knew that he had to carefully read every word of it to ensure that his student’s participation in Penn Cattrall’s yet-to-be-titled film wasn’t going to end the same way her experience with Clash at Sunset did.

And, of course, to see what he had to do to keep her on track with the rest of her peers. Of all her professors, he had been the obvious choice to administer the work she would need to complete whilst filming, and he was not looking forward to the extra work he would have to do for it.

Knowing there was nothing else to do but dive in, he set down his mug of coffee and situated himself in his seat, taking a moment to adjust the lamp on his desk before pulling down the first of the many stapled stacks.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Two and a half hours later, Thomas set down his third coffee refill and rubbed between his eyebrows. Behind him, the world beyond the window grew dimmer, and the hallway around his office swallowed up in silence. Certain he was the only one still in that wing of the school, perhaps even on that side of campus, he took a moment to get up and stretch, mind still whirring over everything he had read.

She was due to leave in three days’ time for France. The contracts he read didn’t say anything about the plot of the film she was leading, but he guessed by the extra paperwork regarding health and safety liabilities while filming in the catacombs of Paris that it had something to do with the horrors of being lost in a claustrophobic, labyrinthine setting surrounded by the dead.

Along with the liability clauses, there was a lot said about the safety of the stunt work she’d be performing herself, which he’d flagged with a sticky note. More sticky notes were used to mark certain lines that he needed further elaboration on, and parts of the contracts that seemed impossible to enforce from far away.

It had taken him what felt like eons to get to what was the most relevant part for him: the continuing education contract.

But the words that were so important for him to digest, as he would be the one to hold her to them, swam in front of his eyes as he quickly became lost in thought. Still stuck on the tidbits of information sprinkled within the documents, breadcrumbs that piece together a vague picture of what Miss Schuyler was to be doing during her six-week leave. It bothered him that he was so bothered, but he couldn’t help it.

How was she going to react to being in the depths of the catacombs? She had difficulty just sitting in the dark for too long.

And then: does she even know what she signed up for?

Penn Cattrall should’ve given her a copy of the script. Should’ve given her a head’s up of what was expected (including the stunts that she was apparently doing herself). Should’ve gotten to know her before giving her such a challenging role.

Thomas’s fingers hovered over the keyboard of his laptop before he even realized he’d opened it.

I should warn her, he thought. What if she doesn’t know?

And then that pesky second opinion in his head, another side of himself, countered, She has to know already. After everything that happened with Anders Stone and Richard Sheridan, she would have read everything Penn Cattrall’s people sent over with a fine-toothed comb. She wouldn’t agree to this without knowing.

But what if she did?

Thomas slowly lowered his laptop’s screen and stared at the brand logo on the back. The edges of a small sticker, one from his college days that he’d stumbled upon when sorting his attic, were peeling off, and he pressed his fingers down to try and flatten them. It was a simple rectangular sticker of a quote. A memory of Yvonne purchasing him that sticker at a street fair near their campus bubbled up, but he pressed down with his fingers as if to pop it.

The enemy of art is the absence of limitations.

Though he was remarkably awarded for a fairly new director, Penn Cattrall did not yet have the power behind his name to blow dozens of millions of dollars on a single film. It had taken Thomas two films and just as many Audrey Awards to get there himself. Though the estimated five million dollar budget for the film was nothing to scoff at, Thomas knew that, after taking into account the portion of the funds that would be exchanged for access to the off-limits areas in which they’d be filming, as well as all the equipment that would be used to capture the film and keep the cast and crew safe down below, the true budget of the film was going to be quite tight indeed.

That would be a limitation, a box that would force Penn Cattrall and his crew to think outside of it without breaking the bank or disrupting the production. It could be done; after Spielberg and the Jaws crew sunk so much money into creating the mechanical shark that famously rarely worked, the director’s decision to omit the sighting of the shark until much later in the film became one of the most memorable techniques to build suspense in film. Limitation worked then.

But Margot . . .

Since that night on that gaudy set, he wondered how she coped with the memories of her past. He’d seen her sitting in darkened rooms before – like in the auditorium watching Spencer Yamaguchi’s one-man musical – but there were still light sources, still a feeling of being among a crowd, of safety. But he’d also seen – well, heard - her on that set, crying to herself.

How would she react to long hours of being deep below ground, surrounded by the remains of those who passed long ago? Penn Cattrall wouldn’t be so cruel as to make her film in complete darkness, but the catacombs definitely weren’t known for making people feel safe. Nor, Thomas guessed, would the characters be in the catacombs with perfectly working light sources, if this was a horror film like all his others. Sure, there had to be breaks where they came up for air, food, and sunlight. But what of those hours of filming in near darkness, amongst death and decay?

Was her past her limitation?

More importantly, would – could – she work with it?

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

“Miss Schuyler. Thank you for arriving on time for once.”

Displeased with being called into his office on a Friday morning, Margot lazily fell into the chair opposite his desk, her hands already tapping mindlessly on her thighs. Immediately diverting his gaze from her thighs – and the skirt she somehow considered appropriate enough to wear for such a meeting – Thomas cleared his throat.

“I’ve read through the paperwork for your extended leave,” he began. “Most of it is in order. I’ve already forwarded the very little I have issue with to be further reviewed by Penn Cattrall and Hollywood U’s lawyers.”

“Great,” Margot said, her voice flat and tired. “Is that all?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I do hope you don’t show this kind of attitude to Penn Cattrall, or you’ll be fired and blacklisted in this industry faster than Megan Fox in her Transformers days. This is a tremendous opportunity for any actor, and even more so for a newcomer.”

In the silence that followed his words, her head lowered. Her lower lip trembled. And his stomach twisted.

Where was the confident, cocky young actress determined to take Hollywood by storm? It was almost as if they were back on that damn set, drinking Snapple and letting their guards down little by little. This time, he could see her face, and he knew that the issue was not what he had just said to her, but something else. Something had been bothering her before she’d even come into the room.

His voice softened. “What happened?”

Margot immediately shook her head. “Nothing.”

“I know you,” he said before he could stop himself. “This ‘nothing’ is a ‘something.’ What is it?”

And when she finally looked up at him again, he stood at the sight of the tears spilling from her eyes. He moved quickly, taking the box of tissues he had set upon a shelf and maneuvering around his desk until he was standing by her side. Handing her a tissue, he leaned against the desk and took in her body language, noticing with grim certainty that she had been feeling off long before he’d even thought to discuss the paperwork with her.

She blew her nose. Then, with another tissue, she dabbed at her eyes and swept under the lower lashes, the tissue picking up some makeup on its way.

“Take your time,” he said.

Take your time? a part of him repeated. Since when did you get so soft?

Margot let out a deep, shuddering breath. Then, focusing more on the steadily growing pile of tissues she accumulated in one hand, she spoke.

“Up until a week ago, Penn Cattrall was sure that we were going to be filming entirely on a sound stage.” Her voice trembled, and she took a deep breath. “I – I was fine with that. A sound stage means that the lights come up, you step outside for some light, you know, no problem at all. But then . . . I don’t know how he got permission, but . . .”

She promptly pulled another tissue from the box and blew her nose into it. Thomas crossed his arms over his stomach, holding in his impatience.

Don’t rush her; let her find the words.

“I don’t think I can do it,” she admitted, and then it was a rush of words like a flood headed downhill. “I’ve been trying – I mean, I’ve been practicing, rehearsing in my room in the dark, just a headlamp and a flashlight, all by myself but – I can’t do it, I can’t do it in my own bedroom, let alone the fucking Parisian catacombs with the bones and the tunnels and – what if I get scared and then lost? What if – he said we’d be safe, but no one’s ever been permitted to film in the off-limits areas till now, and I – I’m terrified.” She buried her head in her hands. “How can I call myself an actress if I can’t get over this?”

He looked over her in silence.

“I’m going to ruin my career, and it’s just begun.”

Her words fell on deaf ears. Thomas began breathing slowly, deeply, and, while it clearly annoyed Margot, she caught on to what he was doing and matched his breaths. Inhale, hold, exhale, hold, repeat. Inhale, hold, exhale, hold, repeat.

When it seemed like she’d finally calmed, Thomas sighed. “The pressure you’re putting on yourself is not helping you. You will gain nothing from considering yourself a failure from the start. Your performance will be impacted by your thoughts. You will lose your starring role if you let this go on.”

“How do I stop it?” Margot cried. “You’re my teacher. Teach me.”

Thomas grimaced at the reminder.

“How do I get over this?” she asked.

“You don’t,” he said bluntly. “You simply learn to roll with it, as many other actors and artists before you have.”

Margot rolled her eyes. “Oh, great, another anecdote from your days on Battlefield Earth. I would’ve thought you’d told them all in class by now.”

“Mar- Miss Schuyler.” Thomas blinked a few times, reminding himself of decorum, of the rules he had to adhere to as a faculty member speaking to his student. “You’re not the first, and certainly not the last, actor working with their traumas and fears to complete a production. A simple Google search will tell you that a multitude of actors admit to feeling emotionally and mentally drained from the work they do that involves at least some aspect of their fears. For some, it is claustrophobia when filming in confined spaces for the majority of a film. For others, it is continual exposure to creatures or things that they may associate with terrible memories or have faced before and nearly lost. Fear of heights in an action film. Fear of large bodies of water and drowning after seeing such a thing happen in their childhood. And yes, fear of the dark and the unknown shrouded within it.”

She dabbed at her eyes with another tissue.

“You are not alone in your feelings. More to the point, you are not – and will not be – alone. You will never be alone like that again.”

She nodded.

And Thomas, quickly turning back to his desk, procured some papers from his desk and changed the topic.

“So, about your homework . . .”

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Production Progress Journal Entry 1:

Within the Parisian catacombs, there is a sign that says (according to Penn Cattrall, who translated it for me): “Stop! This is the Empire of the Dead.”

They are not wrong.

To say that I am far beyond my comfort zone is an understatement. More accurately, I’m far beneath it (twenty metres or so, in fact; thanks, tour guide Jack/Jacques).

Penn had arranged a special tour for the cast and crew, which was done in staggered batches of ten with a guide in front and a guide at the rear to keep everyone together. Honestly, they didn’t need to arrange it like that; I doubt that anyone, when within the Empire of the Dead, would branch away from the group when surrounded by dust and bones and stale air. The tour was apparently the same as any regular tour, though the “special” part of it came into play once we had reached a certain point within the catacombs, when the guides took us through a clearly marked off-limits area to show us one of the many places we’ll be working in under the direct supervision of several officials and safety officers.

You think, once you’ve walked around in a cavern made of cadavers for forty or so minutes, you’d be relatively numb to the sight of another area stacked high with bones.

I just . . . didn’t expect the first shots we’ll be filming to take place within such a microscopic tunnel.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Thomas Hunt’s comments on Production Progress Journal Entry 1:

I am not surprised to hear of the extensive security and safety detail.

I am surprised that you didn’t expect to film in areas that may trigger claustrophobia.

Have you done anything at all to help mentally and physically prepare for the shoot?

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Production Progress Journal Entry 2:

On the plane ride to France, I’d started listening to the podcast “How to Find Peace Within Yourself: A Guided Meditation to Alleviate the Darkness and Manifest the Light.” Once settled in my temporary hotel home for the next six or so weeks, I made space on the floor and did partake in some of their suggested activities, including mindfully making a cup of tea and waking up at ungodly hours to sit in front of the window and focus on how the light of the sunrise felt creeping up my body.

At about seven in the morning today, we made our first descent of many for this film into the catacombs.

Approximately nineteen minutes later, a safety officer had guided me out, where I’d narrowly managed to reach a trash bin before I’d vomited up my breakfast.

Manifesting the light through mindful tea making is bullshit.

Thank fuck it was only a rehearsal.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Production Progress Journal Entry 2.5:

Just got out of a last-minute meeting/admonishment talk with Penn. From what memory serves, he told me that he was worried we’d both bitten off more than we can chew with this ambitious project. I know he’s trying to soften the blow of the underlying warning of his words.

He is unimpressed. He has every right to be.

Whatever he saw in me when he chose me is not present now, and I don’t know how to come back from this.

I am not the only cast member who has to take frequent breaks from below; my co-star, Oliver Abel, is extremely claustrophobic. He has a scene planned for filming tomorrow that involves him squeezing through the aforementioned tunnel, and I honestly don’t know how he’ll pull it off.

I hope he can do it.

I hope we all can do it.

I don’t want to lose this opportunity.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Production Progress Journal Entry 3:

I don’t know if I can do what Oliver did.

He’s managed to use his fear to power his performance, sobbing desperately and clawing at the tunnel walls. First take, best take, and while I’m proud, I’m also nervous.

The past few days, Penn has allowed me to focus mainly on above-ground scenes while the crew gets more comfortable with working underground. But we’re running out of filler scenes to film. Soon, it will be my turn to wiggle atop a pile of bones (supplied by Penn’s affiliated prop company, and not the real bones of dead citizens) and plea for mercy.

I don’t know how I’m going to do it.

Especially if my headlamps malfunction, plunging me into darkness, as mentioned in the final draft of the screenplay I got a few hours ago.

Help.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Thomas Hunt’s comments on Production Progress Journal Entry 3:

You are too busy worrying about yourself that you are not learning from those around you.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

The phone call came just before eight p.m.

Thomas had reclined in his favourite armchair, beat after a day of marking subpar assignments. His red pen had run out of ink halfway through an essay that was more a waste of paper and ink than an acceptable analysis on auteurist theory, and he’d had to switch from coffee to scotch after ripping apart Lance Sergio’s paper on Sophie’s Choice.

Really, how is that boy still enrolled?

The floor lamp positioned by his armchair went dark, and Thomas turned his head to look at it. He’d have to buy a new bulb for it. Been meaning to for a while now. Another thing to add to his ever-growing list of responsibilities and errands.

He blinked slowly at the shrill noise that broke the comfortable silence, realizing seconds later that it was his cell phone ringing. A number he didn’t recognize, with an area code he couldn’t place off the top of his head.

Still, he answered.

“Who is this?” he asked simply, leaning back into his chair.

Her hushed voice had him jolting straight up again.

“I can’t do this. Help me.”

Though he felt as though his blood has run cold, he kept his voice even as he asked, “How did you get this number, Miss Schuyler?”

“I have my ways.” She sounded on the verge of tears. “I’m scared. I don’t – I don’t think I can do this.”

And Thomas, being the level-headed, critical, highly regarded and rewarded director, actor, professor, and screenwriter that he was, sucked in a deep breath before replying.

“Yes, you can.”

“I can’t, I-”

Thomas’s voice was stern. “Margot. Did I not stand for you during your hearing? Do you think I said any of those things falsely? You have shown tremendous growth in such a short time. You led and assisted in multiple school projects. You have acting and producing credits for films that have been nominated – and won – awards.”

“I never had to do any of those things underground,” she argued, her teary voice giving way to a spark of anger. “I’m fine in front of a camera and behind it. I’m happy to be in the spotlight. But I can’t cope with this. Have you ever been to the catacombs? How lonely and suffocating it is to be so far below, hidden away from the world? I close my eyes for too long and it’s like I’m right back in that fucking shed my mother pretended was a house.” Her voice broke on the last few words, and Thomas’s chest tightened.

Her words were met with silence until he had gathered his thoughts on how to assure her.

“The camera crew is there. Mr. Cattrall will be there. You will not be alone. At the first sign of distress, they will halt filming so you can regain composure.” His voice hardened. “You cannot quit now. You have just begun to soar.”

“I’m going to plummet face-first into bones and debris.”

Thomas huffed. “Perhaps. But you will get up again.”

She sniffled.

“Have you considered a therapist?”

“It’s a little late for that.”

“It’s never too late to take care of yourself,” Thomas admonished. “A podcast and meditation are good starts, but the way you react to things that remind you of your trauma is rather unhealthy and will stunt the growth – both personal and craft-wise – that you have already made.”

She said nothing.

He cleared his throat. “Does Mr. Cattrall know?”

She snorted. “All he knows is I’m a failure. I can practically hear him calling for my replacement as we speak.”

Thomas checked his watch, then strained to remember the time difference. Eight p.m. here was . . .

“Are you calling me right before your shoot starts?”

He heard her take a sip of something. “I could barely sleep. I’ve felt sick to my stomach all night.”

“Margot, you are not making this easy for yourself.”

She snorted again. “It’s not going to be easy, period.”

Thomas sighed, running his fingers over one of the arms on his chair. “You need to tell Mr. Cattrall. A good director knows their performers. I’m sure he’ll be more lenient on you if he knew.”

“And be called a crybaby?” Margot snapped. “No, thanks.”

Thomas let out a huff of annoyance. “Margot, why are you even calling if you don’t want any of my advice?”

“Because . . . I don’t know anyone else who would care.”

Silence.

“Margot-”

“Miss Peaches is gone, and I can’t remember the breathing technique she taught me.” Her voice grew higher, hysterical. “I sleep with a lamp on because I can’t handle the feeling of being abandoned again. The few things I’ve filmed in darkness were done surrounded by dozens of crew members on sound stages where everything is predictable and there’s no threat of cave-ins or collapses.”

“Margot, listen-”

“You heard me that night on the set. You know how it makes me feel.”

“I do. I did hear you. I know what you’ve been through.” Thomas’s voice, once again, became strangely soft, soothing. “Margot, you cannot let this hold you back forever. You will face it again and again. It’s not something one simply ‘gets over.’ You have to learn with work with it, and make it work to your advantage.”

She sobbed, and his throat went dry. “How?”

Thomas closed his eyes. His fingers pressed firmly against the arm of his chair, as if smoothing down the edges of a peeling sticker.

“‘The enemy of art is the absence of limitations.’”

He hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud until Margot spoke again, her voice shaky but still understandable.

“Orson Welles.”

He hummed. “He was my father’s favourite filmmaker. My parents rarely let me stay up to watch movies, but when a Welles was on, well . . . he made the popcorn, I sliced the jalapenos, and we sat together under his spell. It was one of the few times we actually got along.”

“You put jalapeno slices in your popcorn?”

Thomas smiled. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“I’ll stick with Reese’s Pieces, thanks.” She sounded a bit more upbeat, which he found encouraging.

So, while it wasn’t something he normally advertised, he admitted, “My father named me after him, actually.”

The sound of Margot’s laugh was like a burst of sunlight on his skin, warming and comforting. “Really? How so?”

“Orson is my middle name.” Thomas failed to keep the smile out of his voice. “I understand why he did it, given Welles’s impact on cinema, but it was tough just learning how to spell it when I was a boy.”

“I’m trying to imagine you as a child. All I see is a scowling little boy in a suit.”

“You wouldn’t be very far off.”

“So you’ve always worn suits?”

“My mother dressed me to impress. And to get made fun of.”

Every time she laughed, the weight on his chest lifted a little more. And he found that he couldn’t hold back his own laughter, even as he shook away the memories of playground bullies kicking dirt at him and scribbling on his sleeves with markers.

“Thomas?” Her laughter had died down, and her voice was timid.

“Yes?”

Margot sighed. “Thank you. I feel a little better now. I’ll try to remember what you said, about taking care of myself and getting up again.”

He nodded, as if she could see it. “Don’t forget the quote.”

“Right.”

There was a pause.

“Could you . . . elaborate further on that?”

Thomas rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Limitations breed creativity. They foster growth beyond its restrictions. Take your co-star for example. Claustrophobic, yet he filmed his scene well. You wrote that his fear powered his performance, made it stronger. You feel limited by your trauma. But could you work with it and use it to add verisimilitude to your character’s journey?”

Margot, wherever in Paris she was, took a deep breath that sounded like a gust of wind into his ear. “I – I’m not sure.”

“You’ve fuelled your performances before with your pain.” Thomas thought back to the first acting project she’d helmed since Clash at Sunset’s premiere, when Anders Stone tricked her out of millions of dollars. She’d played a fiery sidekick to her classmate Erik’s cliché cowboy, effectively stealing the show with how genuine her actions seemed to be. “You’ve used anger to your advantage. Pain is part of that realm. You do not have to be sure. You only have to try.”

In the background of her side of the call, he could hear someone talking to her. Then, Margot’s voice came back on the phone, apologetic.

“I have to go. It’s time.” She paused, then added, “Thank you. Really. I’ll try to make you proud.”

Thomas smiled to himself and said, “Don’t forget to do your progress report.”

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Long after she’d hung up, he stared at his phone in silence.

I’ll try to make you proud, she’d said.

You already have, he wanted to reply.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

He poured three more fingers of scotch into his glass and carefully selected two perfect ice cubes from the steel container on his drink cart. Flicking on a random channel, he attempted to absorb the film that was already midway through. Instead, it was a flashy, action-packed thing for his eyes to watch while his mind whirred behind them.

He wished he could stop replaying their phone call in his head. The way he’d told her his middle name, admitted he’d been bullied for being different, and encouraged her to use her vulnerabilities to her advantage.

The sound of a gun firing temporarily shook him from his thoughts. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he raised his glass to his lips.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

There had been a time when, if Thomas strained his ears enough, he could hear the echoes of Yvonne’s laughter, her voice crooning for him to join her on an impromptu adventure as an attempt to make him socialize more. He rarely willingly tortured himself with the memories, but on a night like this, with too much scotch in his system and the living room’s burnt-out lamp bulb shrouding him in partial darkness, he settled into his seat and closed his eyes, expecting his mind to conjure up the image of the woman he had once loved and chose to lose.

He saw his fingers running through her long dark locks that stretched far beneath her shoulders, framing her face in gentle, inky waves that shone impossibly beneath the night sky.

Her eyes, framed by dark lashes, dark brown irises shockingly bright and intent on his face.

Her cheek pressing into his palm, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into it further, as if his touch soothed.

A silver-blue gown’s skirt twirling around her legs as they danced.

A different ethereal silver-blue gown rendered diaphanous by the rainfall.

Her angular face, flushed from breathless kisses, illuminated by the bright colours of the fireworks display.

Her voice was a whisper that reverberated within his skull, words overlapping with different emotions.

“Hunt?”

“Please, Thomas . . .”

“My feelings for you are not fake.”

His eyes shot open.

No.

No, no, no.

What did Yvonne look like?

What did she sound like?

What was her last name again?

Does it matter anymore?

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Production Progress Journal Entry 4:

A wise man once told me that another wise man said, “The enemy of art is the absence of limitations.”

(Orson Welles, in case I have to give credit. This is a school thing, right? Do I need to put this in MLA/APA/whatever?)

The things I associate with darkness, particularly being along in darkness, are my limitations. They make me feel sick to my stomach, bring tears that burn in my eyes until they fall, and make me want to avoid any and all scenarios in which I’d have to face them.

I’ve fueled performances with my emotions before. I’ve used heartbreak to write a best-selling song and anger to light up a performance about a vengeance-seeking cowgirl. Certainly, I could do it again with this emotion, this sadness and pain.

And I did.

The pile of bones scene was terrifying, especially with the headlamp flickering on and off. But I knew I wasn’t alone, that despite the setting we were filming in, I was safe and seen. I was still scared, but I knew my character would be, too. I’d spoken to Penn Cattrall before filming the scene, and he’d told me that the pain I felt, if translated as well as Oliver’s claustrophobia was to his performance, made the struggles of my character real. He’s rewritten Oliver’s character to be claustrophobic, and he’s going to work on mine so that I can work through my fears.

In half an hour (I’m on break with Oliver right now; enjoying a panini from a nearby café) I’ll be filming a scene with Oliver in another area of the catacombs, a microscopic chamber with a hole in the wall. We’re both terrified. And we’re both excited to try.

🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬🎬

Author’s Note:

Hi, friends. It’s been a while, I know. “Real life” got a lot busier than I expected.

But anyway, just wondering if it’s worth it to keep posting the chapters of this story on Tumblr. I’m already posting it on AO3 as it is, and to be quite frank, there’s really no engagement here so I’m not sure if I’m just clogging the tags.

Please let me know what you think :)

#only fools fall for you #thomas hunt #thomas orson hunt #hollywood u #hollywood university #pixelberry #fanfiction

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atheistforhumanity · 4 years

Text

Trump’s Handling of The Coronavirus

We are just starting to deal with Corona cases in the U.S. and Trump is confirming all of our worst fears about him. When Trump was elected, everyone opposed to him was fearful of what might happen if a true emergency hit our country due to his unabashed stupidity. Now here we are facing a true national crisis, and I am personally afraid that it will be much worse because of Trump and his administration.

First, let’s be clear that the Coronavirus is a major threat that must be taken seriously. What makes Corona such a deadly threat is that it can be spread through the respiratory system (coughing). Right now the CDC is not exactly sure what factor of contagious it is, meaning how easily it can spread is not completely known.

The Coronavirus has a 2-3% fatality rate, compared to the flu that has a 0.1% fatality rate. President Trump compared the two, stating that the flu was much worse. That’s not correct. If you looked at the death toll from flu in the last year or two, you will see much higher numbers than we’re talking about with the coronavirus, but you have consider the actual infection rate. A couple years ago we faced 80,000 deaths from the flu. That was stunning, but that means that millions of people over the country contracted the flu. Also, flu deaths are largely attributed to the young and elderly not being strong enough to fight it. With Corona we’re talking infection numbers in the hundreds, but we already have deaths in the double digits.

Right now, the CDC reports 53 Corona cases in the United States. Think of a school during flu season, no one would blink an eye at 53 people getting the flu. Well, with Corona’s death rate it is very likely that one of those 53 people will die. The reason that the CDC and the media are emphasizing danger with only 53 cases is because this can be transferred roughly as easily as the flu and it will kill 2-3% of healthy victims. If even 2-3% of people who catch the flu caught Corona instead we would have significantly more deaths than from the flu.

Right now, the CDC are saying that more cases and spreading is inevitable. This is no where near as easy to contain as Ebola, because of transition methods and the fact that people will likely think they have the flu instead of Corona. We are going to see many instances where people are not identified quickly enough, because they mistake the illness for something else. By the time they seek help, they will have likely spread it to at least one person. In anticipation of this spreading, health officials say that major disruptions of society are likely, such as school closings and shutting down public transport. If no one is taking this seriously and not being proactive to prevent spread of infection then this could get out of hand quickly.

What is Wrong With Trump’s Approach

Trump is dealing with this situation exactly how I feared he would. First, he is not informed on the situation, and that is evident from his numerous factual errors. What’s worse is that I think when faced with real information he rejects it and actively lies about it to promote a vision that is more favorable to his base. Trump has made it clear that he does not respect the opinions of officials on any matter, and he simply makes up his own interpretations. There are three major things Trump is doing wrong.

First is that he did not take action early enough and has ignored the seriousness of the threat. It’s been reported that people within his administration begged him for weeks to take action, but Trump was completely indifferent until the stock market crashed. In the past Obama (who did not do everything perfect) set up outposts around the world to help contain the spread of Ebola before it ever reached the U.S. Trump’s attention to the matter is late in the game and for the wrong reason. What’s worse is that he’s on TV downplaying the danger and claiming that it will disappear like a miracle. Of course he also made several other conflicting rambling statements that inspire zero confidence.

Trump does not know or care what the facts about the virus are, and he and his administration have been actively lying about the current status. Trump claimed that the number of infections in the U.S. were 14, but that is incorrect. He also said that we are getting the number to zero quickly and infections are going down. That’s just flat out not true, the numbers are not decreasing and all health officials have predicted rising numbers. As I mentioned, the President incorrectly portrayed the flu to be worse. Chad Wolf, of Homeland Security, also incorrectly claimed that the flu fatality rate is around 2% as well.

Trump has chosen Mike Pence to lead this national crisis and he has no qualifications to be doing so. It goes without saying that he has no education, training, or experience in dealing with a potential epidemic. Someone from the CDC or the WHO would have been an obvious choice. I know that Obama chose a non-health-professional during the Ebola crisis, which was mostly contained outside the country. I do think that the threat was much lower, because the disease is MUCH harder to spread, but I would have picked a health official anyway. Trump actually attacked Obama on twitter for that action and now Trump is guilty of the same action in a worse situation.

The real problem here is that neither Trump nor Pence respect science or evidence based decision making. Pence is now under fire for his poor handling of a HIV outbreak in his home state. The bottom line is that Pence refused to allow clean needle programs, which are proven to reduce the spread of HIV, and he was shutting down Planned Parent Hoods, which gave free HIV screenings. As a result, there was an outbreak of more than 200 people. Neither of these men are likely to listen to health care professionals and act on what is proven to work.

Am I Getting A Vaccine?

The short answer is no. I’m afraid not. Trump claimed that we would have a vaccine in “fairly rapid manner.” This is misleading because there is nothing rapid about creating a vaccine. Bottom line is that it will be 1- 1 1/2 years before we see a vaccine for Corona, and that’s assuming that everything goes smoothly, with no complications. We will NOT have a vaccine for THIS outbreak. It is not due to the lack of hard work or any bureaucratic slow down, that is simply the time-table to create a vaccine. It is impossible to produce one for the public any faster.

Conclusion

As usual, I’m disgusted that Trump is claiming that the media and Democrats are falsely hyping up this virus just to make him look bad. This is one of the worst issues with Trump. He is absolutely narcissistic and irrational. He does not acknowledge the same facts that everyone else does and interprets everything as being about him. This is a sick quality for a leader, especially in such dangerous times.

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#politics #USA #Coronavirus #Trump #Pence #liberal #conservative #democrat #republican #GOP #health crisis #epidemic #current affairs

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adposto2 · 3 years

Text

WHERE is Gulberg Greens Islamabad.

Whom to trust whom not to?. Especially when it comes to investments, I think making decisions in this regard are harder than that lifetime effort made to earn that heavy amount. For instance me, who had been saving up for a decade now but took me more than three years to gain confidence enough to buy land. The money lying in the bank was only losing its worth . So, I knew I had to make a decision soon for my future security. Now the question rises whom to trust, rather how to? . Commercial Projects in Gulberg Islamabad

As we all know how fraud is common in this market. I can’t forget the first time I visited a real estate agent, the land that cost 15lac he was selling for 20 lac. And when I made a decision to buy it, it turned out to be a non-progressing land and probably have no worth howsoever. Now I knew this time is the right time to invest especially in the vicinity of Islamabad, my tension turned into frustration as I had never felt so helpless before. I was desperate for help YES… but was there anyone to guide me… unfortunately NO! One day while I was surfing Facebook, I came across Gulberg Islamabad’s post. The image was visually pleasing . Later ,when I dig down more to the content of their posts and website, the features seemed interesting too. Flat for sale in Gulberg islamabad

On top of all that, the name of Gulberg was quite promising itself. It suddenly clicked me to visit that place and visit their sales office rather than random property dealers. I entered Gulberg Greens and I was stunned by its beauty and grand look. I was overwhelmed by the hospitality of the Sales team that involved educated men and women as well. A lady helped me out with all the queries and procedure. For the first time I felt relieved to be in the right place and right away… yes right away I signed a cheque and booked an apartment in Gulberg Heights. The Roman architecture and amazing features and facilities that this place is offering was worth relying. So now I own my property and I surely believe that where there is a will there is a way! Commercial Plots in Gulberg Islamabad

My New Year Resolution

New Year Resolution: Enough of struggles… now it’s time to do more with my life! This is what I said to myself in the beginning of 2019 and changed my perspective about life. Life as we all know tests us in every way but it’s us who decide whether to become a victim of it or have control over it by learning from our mistakes and experiences… We can surely make it better by becoming stronger, by expecting less and giving more, by focusing on our dear ones rather than those who hurt us and most of us by analyzing what we want from life and how to get it! Of course it isn’t as easy as it sounds and not a work of day or two.

With time I realized that though we are always trying to comprehend everything around us, the most difficult thing to understand is what lies within us. Literally sometimes it takes years to figure out something as little as what is best for us and what isn’t. If I sound silly just try convincing yourself to do something against your will… My time for the last 4 years didn’t seem to be in my favor . But I simply accepted my fate till I couldn’t bear more, as not just my personal and professional life but also the lives attached to me were getting unbearably affected. I for once realized the cost of shattering my confidence and blaming myself.

No one was going to offer me solutions… I had to be my own master. I started off by taking care of myself, making my faith in Allah stronger . Also in any type of circumstance I didn’t let anything get me down. All this seemed impossible initially, but today I am where I am because of this. My relationships got better and I showed good progress at work. Along with work I started a new online business of mobile accessories in collaboration with my cosine. In just one year I have earned enough to make an investment. For 2020 I can proudly say that this year I will start a new better life at my favorite place in Islamabad, The Gulberg Islamabad.

I have already booked a plots in Gulberg Residencia and now I can’t wait to see my home being built where I will have everything I wish for, a place rather than a house will be my home. I will finally be able to make my family happy with this beautiful gift. As no doubt there is no place like Gulberg Islamabad.

Everyone wants to eat fresh fruits and vegetables. Don’t you???

In the serene and green Gulberg Residencia, is my beautiful home which means the world to me. And in that 7 marla home is my small lawn which is undoubtedly my favorite spot, my peace place. I can spend hours in my garden without getting bored since it makes me come alive from inside and I just love that feeling.

My mother, my favorite person is another person who loves this spot equally. Gardening is her hobby and more than me she the one who takes good care of this garden. My garden may be tiny, but its is filled with numerous colors of nature. Here you will see a huge and unique variety of flowers, fruits and vegetables. Roses are my all time fave. In addition to which we keep growing seasonal flowers and vegetables in the garden . Plots in Gulberg Green Islamabad.

The feeling is indescribable when you see the buds blooming, vegetable growing and new leaves sprouting… its like a new beginning of joy, hope and success. Plants are not just growing stem, they have a life. I often talk to them, while I water them, i pour my love and and when i hoe the soil, i know this care I put in them will in return bring more freshness to my life. Usually my day starts in my garden. It is a positive way to begin a day with the peace of mind. I practice deep breathing for around 20 minutes and then look at all the plants that I have.

I love spending the evening hours in my garden if I have time. Best are the days when my friends come over for evening tea. We chat and enjoy the beauty that surrounds us. My pretty little garden is surely an integral part of my life. This place vanishes all the negativeness and makes me happy in seconds.

THE BIG REAL ESTATE QUESTION

Isn’t it hell of a confusion to decide which society is the best! These days too many new residence societies are emerging and everyone claims to be the best.

Other than few famous names such as Bahria Town and GULBERG, we can’t really rely on anyone… can we? So many fraud examples are there to scare us from making an investment. Also when it comes to business, we are either putting all our money in the drain or luck has knocked our door.

I wonder how many people get looted just because they trust the decent looking humans who convince them with their words. With the out of the world promises imagine how lifetime savings are blown away with just a signature. Though we can’t blindly trust any agent few things must be considered before making any decision.

They have been working in Real Estate for a quite a long time.

Check out the successful transactions and the feedbacks of their previous clients.

Their contact details, be it online or offline should always be available and so should be the responsive rate.

They should definitely be affiliated with a registered office or should be registered by themselves.

They should have in-depth information of the real estate industry.

Must supply your real estate needs as their utmost priority.

They should guide properly for your transaction

My Encounter with a Real Estate Agent

Today, thanks to the education and awareness, women believe there is nothing on earth they can’t do, well… try dealing with an ignorant person without him staring at you top to bottom, as if you are sitting naked just for his entertainment.

Seems relatable doesn’t it? That’s not it, my encounter with the goof I’m referring to kept getting more and more interesting. He was none other but a real estate agent. My colleague told me about good investment opportunities at societies near new airport so I took some time off to visit a real estate office for a better understanding.

I entered a small office with few people all in white kameez shalwar, which till this day I don’t get why they only where white… is it their dress code? Or do they try to portray decency through their look. Well if so it didn’t really work on me. Instead of gaining interest all I wanted was to get away from the creepy looks. I asked him straight about the rates and the best offers they had within the budget I had. And after this long question he asked … “Madam Ji, what would you like to have chai or thunda (cold drink)” ? Confused I simply said, “NO, I don’t have time, please come straight to the point”… “Madam, how can we let our guest go unserved? Please feel comfortable.

So I ended up with a glass of juice which turned out to be much needed to clear my throat. Every time I asked a questioned, his eyes became wider and he bent towards me more… I thought he was going to sit on the table on some point. Well long story short, I changed my mind, received a fake call and escaped. It was till few months back when I went to the sales office of Gulberg Islamabad where I realized that decent dealing is possible in this profession.

I went with my colleague expecting disaster but she came out satisfied with all her quires answered. Now I too have made up my mind to invest only in Gulberg Green Islamabad because it’s not just serene and green, it has the best offers according to your requirements.

Life at Gulberg Residencia

Indeed, it was one of the best decisions of my life… we can’t regret the fact that our environment has a great influence on us. In other words, if we can’t adjust in our surrounding, nothing else can make us happy, neither money nor luxury. On the other hand, peace of mind in this fast moving era is not that easy to find. Cities are getting more and more crowded and so when I was capable of making an investment, all I could think was… PEACE! My residence was living in central area of Rawalpindi.

The daily traffic block added extra half an hour to my office distance which was only 10 km away. And not just travelling, I was sick of the noises, pollution and altogether, I was unhappy with my lifestyle… even going for outing was not a fun thing for me. I know many people are happy the way they are but not me and I couldn’t help it. I had imagined a better life for my wife and my two kids who meant the world to me.

One day I crossed a newly emerging society, the Gulberg Islamabad and I felt the urge to visit it. Though the elegant entrance with wide roads and amazing farmhouses, I thought this place is only for the elite class. Out of curiosity I asked a shopkeeper who showed me the way to the Gulberg Customer Dealing office. Again I was impressed but hopeless for I knew my savings were not enough.

Gathering up my confidence, I told the Sales Executive guy Mr. Mohsin about my total saving. Of course his response surprised me with a proposal not just for a living opportunity, but it offered an exceptional lifestyle, beyond my expectations at Gulberg Green Residencia. Though I could only afford a 5 marla plot, it was more than enough for me and my family. I thought it was the best gift I could give to my family and so it was.

When I brought my wife my kids and my parents to show them my plot, my wife was in tears of happiness and my mother couldn’t be more proud of me. I can’t wait for the time when I will move in to spend my dream life with my family. At Gulberg Islamabad, live your DREAM with SERENE AND GREEN LIFESTYLE!

#gulberg #gulberg greens #gulberg Islamabad #islamabad gulberg #gulberg residencia #plots in gulberg greens islamabad

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masterbeta29 · 4 years

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My review of Pokemon SwSh!!!! (or just Shield, cuz it was the version I play, LOL)

Finally, after finishing the game (including the Post game) and fully exploring the region, I think it’s time for me to say what I think of this 8 gen…

I know it’s obvious, but I mention it just in case: This is MY OPINION!!!, if someone disagrees with me its totally valid, I just ask for respect.

ALSO, English is not my first language so I might have certain lack/erros of spelling out there, or I repeat many words, hehe.

It is important to clarify that this review is based on SwSh base, everything that refers to DLC will NOT be included here, my opinion of the game is already done, the rest is extra content.

I wanted to give this review a more ‘’silly’’ tone, since giving negative opinions on the internet can be quite delicate and I wanted to relax the mood. Do not take this seriously, I still have my CONS with the game, but it is still genuinely enjoyable, which for me is the most important thing in a game. I will talk about everything in general, so I will try to summarize certain points.

LET’S GO!!!

NEW FEATURES

Poke Camp, Curry Dex, Boxes and more

It’s like a dream come true for me, visiting other camps, seeing my whole party next to each other in the screen playing, discussing, running, is something really magical helps, me connect with them and know their personalities better, although I admit that I miss petting them lol and the minigames like in Gen 6. I also really liked the concept of curry as an alternative way to cure your Pokémon maybe I just wish there was a simpler way to know how to create new recipes (ALSO TMs).

Access to boxes anywhere is wonderful especially when you are breeding, just like, changing the name of trade Pokémon and the move reminder.

Rotomphone

It is not used as much as a phone, more than in the post Game (I can be wrong tho) but it serves as Dex and that’s what’s important really, the new feature is that now it includes the bicycle, that can ride both on land and water and in my opinion it is a degradation of what the concept of “Poke Ride” was, but as I said before, it fulfill the function it should.

Trainer Cards

The concept of being able to share and customize them with other players is super entertaining, although it is a bit annoying that you always have to make a new code for each small modification. As for the cards of the main characters of the game, I will talk with a little more detail later.

Dynamax

At the beginning it was fun and exciting, but in the end it just became a gimmick that sometimes I had to use by obligation in raids. It is not as epic as the Megas and does not have the weight of the lore and cultural/regional connection like the Z-moves.

The Giga forms, although some are great, and I am happy that they gave Pokémon like Garbodor love, I also think that there were many missed opportunities, starting with the starters of the region or in giving forms to Pokémon that in previous generations already had like Gengar and Charizard.

Raids

They are incredibly fun, it is an activity that you can spend hours and hours enjoying, especially with friends but if we talk about NPCs… OOF, I understand that the purpose of Pokemon is that we all make friends and work as a team, but DAMN, if it is stressful when you lose a raid with 3 friends and an NPC, because the Pokémon only killed the NPC, it is almost impossible to defeat a 5 star raid with only NPCs, and as I said before I understand why they do them weaker, but there are some that are completely useless, I see you Martin Solrock lol.

Poke Jobs and Rotom Rally

I will be honest, I have not used these features enough to have a solid judgment on these lol.

CHARACTERS

Magnolia

OK, I need to get this off my chest: I am incredibly disappointed and sad with this character, especially since she is/was our first old female professor, to be simply pulled into forgettable land.

It started pretty well, but then it just disappeared until almost the end of the game to give the role of professor to Sonia … REALLY ?! I hate to say this, but she felt more like a device to give character development to Sonia, when she could have been used in scenes with Rose or repeatedly going into further detail about Dynamax for the MC (you know because she’s an expert about that topic…), before give the paper to Sonia. At least I am grateful that I had a little more screen time in the post game, although not even as a professor.

Sonia

Thank you Sonia, for allowing us to discover and know the story with you, honestly she was the one who saved mostly my interest in the story.

But speaking of the character, I like her, I like her dedication to get out of the shadow of Leon’s achievement and to show her grandmother that she is capable, which she finally manages to fulfill, she still has certain insecurities, but that makes her more human, she’s the real professor (I’m still salty for Magnolia tho)

Leon

Everyone knows from the posts on my PT on Twitter that I constantly bullying the character, but I really like him a lot, he is an excellent guide/brother through the game, charismatic, EXTRA, but very involved in his role as champion, in the sense that he is always aware of what is going on and helping in the process, in addition to being strong (one of the most difficult battles in the game). Definitely among my fav champions with Cynthia, Steven and Kukui (I count him as champion, SU!)

Gym Leaders

I love them, their designs, personalities, the animations, they are all incredibly memorable, my favorites are Opal, Kabu and Piers.

But even so, I wish I had more to go on besides the lore on the back of their cards and their battle animations, I would have liked to see them more integrated in the story, and I feel that it lack a little more interaction with some of them, especially Allister and Melony in my case, but at least the trainer cards were a good addition to know them a little more, outside of being a Gym Leader.

RIVALS

OK, I’m prepared for everyone to hate me, *sigh*:

I… I DONT LIKE BEDE AND MARNIE THAT MUCH?… I mean, I don’t hate them, and they are both far from being the worst rivals, but I did expect a little more from both…

Bede

I am one of the few of the fandom that does not like rivals flat jerks, because for me, that is not a character but rather a trait.

But I wanted to give it a try, and when I was just beginning to gain interest in him, they force his backstory in my face… And as I said, I like trainer cards…but more in characters, like G.leaders because these are characters that we don’t see much around the trip, but in the case of rivals, that appear several times and develop in the story, I personally like to get to know them little by little, discover their story and understand them in the course, here I felt it more as an excuse for me, to feel bad for him, especially at the moment he gives you his card.

His relationship with Rose is not explored enough imo.

And a complete turn-around that happens offscreen, like no joke, the MC literally didn’t see any of it, he just disappears after the Opal scene (but to give him credit, that scene is one of my favorites in the game).

But you know, I understood that he was just a lost boy, and I’m happy that he found a better place, and I admire his effort to want to change, so in the end I ended up liking him a little more.

Marnie

Marnie is interesting, because although I agree with many people that she would have benefited from having more screen time, I consider that a good character does not need all the screen time in the world, is about what but what they do with it, and the problem I have with her is that her time was not well spent.

I like her dream and I really like her relationship with her brother, however there was no moment when I really connected with her. I feel partly, that I don’t know her character, like her various personality facets.

Untapped opportunities: fight with her more times or with her…would have helped the character a lot imo.

Hop

Hop is the best rival of the three hands down, his trainer card contains the right and necessary information to make us have an interest in the character, but also the story lets us know him more: a competitive boy, but who has insecurities, fears of failure, that is reflected not only by the dialogue but also in his Pokemon team (no really, it broke my heart when I realized that he didn’t have his Wooloo in his team), that he is frustrated and suffers, but he gets up, discovers other tastes and with these finds a new path, ugh perfect, I adore him.

Forcing the player to defeat him is torture, it is like defeating Hau in USUM and Wally in ORAS breaks my heart.

Rose

In short: ok character, decent /meh antagonist, and a horrible villain.

Like the climax of the story, Rose is forced in the end to be the villain, when he worked best as an antagonist, his plan makes no sense, his battle is disappointing, although his battle theme is awesome, but it just does not fit the character, the plan, nor the situation at all.

But the character has a certain charisma, especially in his ‘’suit especially in his incognito suit.”

Oleana

Interesting character, with a potential backstory, with motives and characterization, who is underused in the story * sigh *… I LIKE HER THO

Overall, I would have liked to see much more of the relationship between Rose, Oleana and Bede, I think it would have benefited the 3 characters…

Team Yell

They are … ok, it is cool to have a team that is not villain, that bother the player from time to time even for good reasons, I admire his dedication and loyalty.

THE REGION

The region is aesthetically beautiful, the details, the structure, the contrast for example between Hammerlocke and Ballonlea, and despite not living in the UK or having had the opportunity to travel to the destination, according to my friends the region in which the games are based is very well related, which I think is excellent. However, despite the visual beauty, when it comes to routes and exploration it feels a bit limited, there are really some towns, where the most interesting thing to do is complete the Gym, there are almost no reasons to return to the previous town after having passed them…

But, what I missed the most was the lack of exploration, discovery, the charm of the NPCs…

Many have told me: what about the Wild Area? Because of the ability to explore in an open area, it is probably the best in the franchise! and yes, the Wild Area is a very attractive part of these games (I will talk a little bit about this, later), but as I said, everything that is considered part of the capacity of the new console, I will not take it into account, it is unfair, because a portable console can NOT stand a concept such as the Wild Area although the developers had the idea before, not at least at SwSh scale.

And as I said before and again, the T.Cards are an incredible idea, but for me NOTHING compares to getting to know the characters through the world, dialogue, interaction… I’m going to use pokemon Moon as an example to make me understand better: (because it was the last main pokemon game I played before SwSh and that’s why I have it more fresh lol) Where you can enter Olivia’s shop, buy jewelry and visit her room and discover that she is a desperate single woman, or enter Gladion’s room and talk to the receptionist and that she tells you part of his story, that kind of things…

Let’s see for example Melony, we know she has more children besides Gordie, but only for concept art, and yes, probably do unique models would take a while, but I honestly wouldn’t have be bothered if they use generic NPCS, they did it with Lana’s sisters, then the anime can dedicated to giving them unique designs.

Speaking of NPCs (mainly of those inside the houses), many lost the charm and authenticity they had… I mean, where is the lady who told us the story of her husband’s accident or the men of the coffee shop, who every time he prepares us a drink told us the story of where such a drink came from, ect… the NPCS on that side are boring…

EXCEPT BALL GUY, he / she is awesome!

I know this look like extra or unimportant things, but these little details really give life to the region, personality to characters that are secondary, it makes everything feel more united and also makes the main characters feel more inside the world, and honestly that is why on this hand, some cities felt empty for me…

But the other hand, I really liked what they did with the NPCs fans, see how the number increasing every time the MC wins a gym battle, makes the trip to become a champion feel more rewarding, It really helps you feel like a true champion when you got it.

Other examples like the girl NPC who is going to support you in the Gyms while their pokemon is evolving, or how the NPCS react and change their dialogue corresponding to what is happening… beautiful, for this part the worldbulding is 10/10.

The wild Area

Probably the closest we have for now of an open space area in a Pokemon game, I have to admit that I get lost at least 1 half an hour trying to find the next destination (I understand you Leon), it was hilarious lol, at the beginning of the game it turns out to be a fairly limited area, and you really can enjoy it in its entirety when you finish the main story, but I don’t see so much trouble with that, since it’s partly the point, for balance. In general, it is a fantastic idea although I feel that it is necessary to polish it in certain parts, and NO, I don’t mean THE TREE, but I don’t want to be so hard on GF at this moment, because is the first time they experiment with such concept…

Pokemon and Music

I put these two together because they both share a very curious characteristic: EXPERIMENTAL.

The pokedex is super solid, I love how these last generations, GF is doing its homework and is striving to make the pokemon belong to the region, as for animals, myths, culture…muah I LOVE IT, BRAVO.

For me a good OST movie or video game not only has to be for the piece n yes, but how it is composed to accompany the events that occur on the screen, how it adapts and fits a certain scene of the story or character, and although I admit that in general it is not my favorite compared to other gens, there are tracks that have become part of my favorites:

The crowd, the screams, the build up as you gradually approach the last pokemon, ugh. Dynamax is cool and everything, but THIS is the basis for me, of why these battles feel so energetic and exciting.

That mystical atmosphere that catches you, is beautiful but at the same time mysterious, and perhaps many disagree with me, but the addition of the howls of the legendaries… I love it.

STORY

I think the game started extremely well, the introduction to the characters, the exploration, the introduction to the starters, the mystery of the legendary, everything is on track to me to enjoy this adventure to the fullest, but later I felt like it began to fall.

I understand that this is Pokémon and sometimes Pokémon does not need a complex story to make it enjoyable, as long as it makes sense and is entertaining, the problem I have mainly with the story is how they constantly get you out of it. I understand the concept they wanted to do: to take a more realistic point of view, in which adults take responsibility or in this case the champion and that later when you become champion you now can do what the champion did, and I like this concept, but the phrase of “you focus on the gym, we take care of the problems ” they say and they repeat it several times in the game like, I understood the first time!!!

Indirectly I felt like they were trying to took me out, and in consequence I lost interest in the story of the game, if it hadn’t been because Sonia bothered to explain to me the lore and a little of what was happening.

It’s more like “tell us” and not “show us”

and that’s the risk of this concept: you play as a main character, because you want to be a main character or share the role.

The climax feels incredibly forced and confusing, I felt that there was no build out, almost no foreshadowing for what was happening at the moment, everything comes out of nowhere, and thats why, I started making Okami jokes with Eternatus, because I don’t felt that emotion of the ‘’Climax’’.

Definitely in the part where the game shine was in the gym Challenge, as I said before, the gyms, the leaders, the atmosphere within them, the scale, the music that changing every time, until reaching the final pokémon, the challenges that we have to do before, the fans, becoming the champion, all this really is the identity of the game.

Pokémon returned to its roots, where this story is the story of us again, and becoming the champion here is everything, it is one of the most exciting and most satisfying Gym challenge in all generations with gyms.

ADDITIONAL

Here I want to give opinions according to the experiences I had with certain things within the game, which I think are quite PERSONAL, because each person plays different Pokémon, by the team of Pokémon, because he decided to level up more or stay at a lower level or how you decided to follow the story of the game.

Difficulty

Decent, by the standards of Pokemon of course, I try not to leveling to much, and if I do, there are maximum 3 levels and only one pokemon… So, gyms were easy in general, perhaps a pair that were difficult (Allister and Melony), but I never did black screen as in other games, but definitely the most difficult battle in the game is Leon, which I think is appropriate.

Online

Its horrible lol, There were not only once but several times in which I lasted like 1 hour trying to connect with a person, it is ridiculous.The signal falling every so often. But in general the biggest problem I have is connecting with very specific people, not even with the infamous Festival Plaza had so many problems.

Gameplay / Pacing

It is normal the same as always which is fine, some drop of frames out there in certain scenes but nothing serious, some cuts and lack of scenarios / designs that if you should in when they took me a little at the time, but absolutely nothing compared as the haters make it look, the game is still incredibly enjoyable, and it can be played perfectly.

The pacing started pretty well/decently, but from the fourth gym onwards, everything became very very fast, and not to mention the climax and the Pokemon League, honestly all this last arc felt super stuck….

So my opinion in general is: I enjoy the game like any other Pokémon game, it has its entity, it has new and interesting things that I would like it to expand more in future generations and it has personality. Is it my favorite game or my favorite generation? No, I definitely enjoyed other generations more, there were many missed opportunities that they could take more advantage, and I feel bad for GF for making them release this game for this year and these dates, because unfortunately some cuts are very noticeable. But the generation just starting ,so we will have to wait and see what we have for the future. For now, Thanks Pokémon SwSh, for another adventure…

#pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #swsh spoilers #my op #my post #review #I probably forgot something and I also have a lot of types cuz im trash lol

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

Text

Klaine fic - “A Vision in a Dream: Chapter 4 - Ramping Up the Possibilities”

Summary: Struggling songwriter Blaine Anderson is trapped in a dull job writing jingles while trying to compose the one song that will help him break into the music business. He's on the verge of giving up when a chance encounter in a local park changes everything ... and nearly gives him a concussion.

Notes: So, yeah, this is the story I wrote for the @klainesummerchallenge 2016. Better late than never. This chapter written for the prompt 'outdoor sporting event'.

Read on AO3.

Blaine skates through the park, gliding leisurely along, the sun setting champagne gold behind him as he contemplates the many conundrums he currently finds himself in. He’d been ecstatic not too long ago talking to Will, full of plans and first steps and bullet points and goals. But now, rolling down the jogging trail through the trees, he feels stuck again – more so than he had before.

And to be honest, he’s getting tired of the frequency in which this happens to him.

When he’d first offered to help Will bring music back to Lima, the man had shot him down, repetitively and sincerely. Will wasn’t looking for Blaine to convince him. As wistful as he was over the prospects of getting the carnival up and running again, the music festival back on, he’d come to terms with losing it a long time ago.

“That’s very generous of you,” he’d said, “but you can’t. It’s impossible. I’ve been trying for years!”

But in contrast, the man’s eyes had shone with so much excitement, so much hope, Blaine continued to insist, swearing up and down that he would do it with or without Will’s help, until the poor, overwhelmed man couldn’t possibly say no.

And he didn’t. Because Blaine had convinced him. Thoroughly. He had faith in Blaine’s conviction.

Hurrah.

With that accomplished, Blaine felt the rest would simply fall into place. It was a done deal in his mind since convincing Will had to be the biggest hurdle to this whole undertaking, right?

Turns out … not exactly.

Actually, not at all.

Because at that point, he hadn’t properly factored Sue Sylvester into the equation. He’d kind of forgotten about her in his zeal to sway Will Schuester, caught up in the moment when he should have taken a few steps back and done his research first, seen if this thing he wanted had any real chance of happening.

Seen why it had been so difficult for Will Schuester when the man had been elbows deep in it for most of his adult life.

There was always the possibility that the woman in question was dead. In that case, dealing with her estate shouldn’t be too difficult. He couldn’t imagine too many lawyers would want to hold on to a dead woman’s grudge for long.

Blaine had had no idea what he was getting himself into.

As soon as Blaine and Will parted ways, Blaine found himself a park bench, pulled out his phone, and started Googling Sue Sylvester. Luckily, information about her wasn’t difficult to find. Articles regarding Sue seemed to fall into two categories – articles written about her by credible journalists, and vanity pieces written by the woman herself. By her own accounts, she was an actress, a model, a TV commentator, and she’d single-handedly put cheerleading on the map.

He couldn’t find any credible sources to back those claims up.

But the non-biased articles he read were damning.

Enough that he seriously considered going straight home, packing his things, and taking the first flight he could to Bali.

The more he researched Sue Sylvester, the more he realized the true extent of Will’s dilemma. Sue wasn’t just a bitter woman with an ax to grind. She was downright vindictive. Slashing tires and filling gas tanks with sugar were the tamest of her many infractions. She’d been known to break into people’s apartments and urinate in their hair products. The high school she’d worked at? She terrorized the children who went there, putting dirt in their lockers and throwing sticks at them for no reason. She forced the girls on her squad to stuff their bras with silicone breast enhancers, then made them pull them out and slap themselves with them when she needed a chuckle. She’d even stolen one poor family’s Christmas tree and presents Seussian Grinch style. How a woman with her track record for petty crimes and child abuse could go on to become a member of Congress …

… actually, that was the only thing about her resume that made any sense.

As far as the carnival was concerned, she hadn’t simply scrapped it, she’d purchased the rights to it – the name, the amphitheater, the land, even the concept. Plus, she didn’t seem to have any weaknesses. That’s not to say that no one had dirt on her – they obviously did. She just didn’t care.

To make matters worse, the woman was still very much alive (evidenced by several recent editorials published in the Lima Gazette regarding defunding PBS because the shows on it could be categorized as ‘hate speech’) so bypassing her and dealing with her estate isn’t an option.

Lawyers can be reasonable. Money and PR can grease a lot of wheels.

Heartless old hags bent on decades of sadistic revenge? Not so much.

If he’s going to get the carnival – and thus, the music festival - up and running again, he’s going to need to convince her.

And this is where Blaine shudders.

Because those articles, and the pictures they paint, have Blaine believing Will is right.

They’ve failed even before they’ve begun.

He loses himself in the run around of that thinking, not even noticing when the sun drops down below the horizon and the street lamps pop on down the trail. Nor does he notice the streak of gold zipping behind him, cutting the course through the trees with a stifled giggle.

It’s long past twilight by the time Blaine reaches the skate ramps at the far end of the park. Though much of the park itself is dim, this end is so flooded with light, it seems like daytime over here. At least a dozen kids are there on skates, boards, and scooters, practicing tricks and showing off for their friends. They congregate mostly at the steeper ramps. Blaine weeds his way through them to reach the flat area his skating instructor told him would be a good place to practice. It’s sunken, accessible by a gentle incline, perfect for beginners, which is probably why it’s empty now, with the more accomplished skaters (every one of them between the ages of eight and fourteen) over on the opposite side.

Blaine steps onto the ramp cautiously. It’s not steep, but he’s sure he could still pick up a decent amount of speed and hurt himself if he’s not too careful. He holds onto the railing as he goes, lowering himself down in sections. But before he reaches the bottom, he’s cut off by a familiar looking man with eyes blue as the sea, and hair that seems to defy gravity, leaving a streak of gold behind him wherever he goes.

Stunned by the man’s sudden appearance, Blaine lets go of the railing. He grabs it again quickly when he rolls a foot down the ramp. “You!”

“Me,” Kurt says, doing a lazy, inside edge spread eagle - a move that, while elegant, also showcases his strong thighs and his tight rear. Blaine does his best not to stare, not just because it would be rude, but because Kurt hasn’t taken his eyes off him, watching him like a hawk with those baby blues that never seem to stop smiling, as if Blaine struggling in rollerblades has become his new favorite form of entertainment.

Even though his cheeks burn from the attention, Blaine braves a bit more speed, managing to get to the bottom and stop without spinning out, flying backwards, and landing on his tailbone … the way he may or may not have done earlier.

“You’re getting better,” Kurt comments. “I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.” Blaine’s voice wobbles, one kind word away from exploding at Kurt’s unexpected praise. “Do you come here often?”

“A-ha. I can practice my skating here.” Kurt transitions smoothly to an outside edge spread eagle, leaning back on his blades, face tilted to the sky, a position which not only shows off his legs again, but something else entirely, and Blaine almost falls without making a single move. “It’s usually pretty empty so no one bothers me.”

“You must live around here,” Blaine proffers, fishing for clues as to where in the world this gorgeous man keeps springing up from.

“Occasionally.”

“Occasionally? What does that mean?”

“It means I’m here today, but who knows about tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Blaine’s heart sinks, thinking that Kurt might disappear tomorrow and he’d never see him again. But as that hasn’t happened yet, he shoves it from his mind. “Why did you kiss me the other day?”

Kurt shrugs. “Because I wanted to. Why? Didn’t you like it?” The next time Blaine sees Kurt’s face, he’s pouting, but not all that convincingly with the smile in his eyes.

“I---I didn’t say that.” A small shock leaps in Blaine’s stomach remembering Kurt’s lips touching his. It doesn’t feel like a simple memory. His lips sizzle as it passes through his brain. “I just … do I know you?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

“I don’t think I do.” Blaine starts to glide, following Kurt as he meanders around in lazy eights to continue the conversation. “I don’t remember ever meeting you before, and I’m pretty sure I’d remember you.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right. And that’s another thing - how come we keep meeting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Out of the blue.”

“Just lucky, I guess.”

“It seems like more than just luck to me.”

“You’re right.” Kurt chuckles. “Someone must be setting us up.”

“Who?”

“Don’t you know?” Kurt winks, confusing Blaine until he catches the implication.

“You think … me?”

“Possibly. I mean, you’re always here.”

“True …” Blaine no longer struggles to keep up, skating like a natural since he’s no longer overthinking it “… but I’ve been coming here for ages and I’ve never seen you, so wouldn’t that mean you’re the one setting us up?”

“I guess …” Kurt changes directions, almost colliding into Blaine when he does, frowning playfully when Blaine manages to hop out of the way. “But I think I’d know if I was, so my vote’s still on you. Yup. You’re doing all this.”

“You’re … you’re right.” Blaine follows Kurt as he ventures into an area that’s darker than the rest, shrouded by the shadows thrown by the overhanging lip of the wall blocking the light of the street lamp. He plays along, willing to agree with anything as long as he gets to continue this conversation. “That must mean I want to see you again.”

“Do you?” The farther Kurt goes, the darker their surroundings become, only the brightness of Kurt’s clothes and the glimmer in his eyes visible. “Want to see me again?”

“Yes! Yes, of course. Absolutely. I would love to see you again!”

“Why?”

“I want to get to know you. I find you fascinating.”

“What do I do that fascinates you?”

“Well, for one thing, you don’t stand still long enough for us to have a conversation!” The words fly out of Blaine’s mouth before he has the time to consider whether or not they sound offensive. They do to his ears. And by the way Kurt’s back goes rigid, he can only imagine he thinks so, too. Blaine holds his breath, begging with his brain for Kurt not to skate off in a huff, but he circles back around, eyes pointed thoughtfully toward the sky.

“Hmmm … you may have a point.” Kurt puts one foot behind him, leaning on the edge of his wheels and slowing to a stop. “There. I’ve stopped. Now, what do you want to know?”

“Who are you?” Blaine asks breathlessly.

“I told you. I’m Kurt.”

“Do you have a last name?”

For the first time since they met, the smile in Kurt’s eyes extinguishes slightly. “No. But it wouldn’t make a difference if I did.”

“What do you do?”

“I skate.”

“I mean, for a living?”

“I don’t.”

“What do you mean you don’t?”

“I don’t do anything for a living. The universe pretty much takes care of me. And in turn, I take care of other people.”

“Other people?” Blaine’s brow furrows. “Like who? Are you a nurse or something?”

The amused expression returns full force to Kurt’s face. “Do you need me to fit into some sort of box or something?”

“No. I’m just curious.”

“Can I ask you a question, Blaine?”

“Of course! Anything!”

Kurt leans forward till he’s only a breath away. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Yes!” Blaine answers too quickly, but he can’t take for granted that, for once, Kurt is standing still, has been standing still for a full three minutes so far.

Which makes his chances of getting another kiss good.

“Wow!” Kurt laughs. “You didn’t even have to think about that, did you?”

“No, I didn’t. Because I have been thinking about it. For a while. And anything I can do to make it happen … anything … I will.” Blaine glances at Kurt’s lips, desperate to kiss him, to relive the excitement, the rush from before.

Kurt licks his lips, staring so deeply into Blaine’s eyes, Blaine feels like he’s falling, his feet floating in the air as he dives into the sea that is Kurt’s eyes. But Blaine also sees fire there, traces of that molten light that follows Kurt around everywhere he goes. It swirls and dances, wrapping around Blaine like a lasso and setting him gently back to earth. Kurt pulls back, inching away from Blaine’s untouched lips, and smiles. “That’s good to know,” he whispers. He sidesteps Blaine, and skates away into the shadows.

“Wait!” Blaine shoots out after him, but before he knows it, the world becomes pitch black. Blaine’s eyes scan the dark, hoping against hope that Kurt is hiding somewhere, teasing Blaine some more. But Blaine feels the truth deep within his chest.

He wasn’t fast enough.

Kurt is gone.

#klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #klaine

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shadowdianne · 5 years

Note

Whenever you're ready: "Pain can turn you into the worst form of yourself."

I had so many ideasfor this one Xd, I needed a few attempts to decide which one could work bettersince my original idea was to focus either on Emma during the Dark One arc ormaking it revolve around Regina's thinking during different points of her ownredemption arc. Perhaps throw a flashback scene while at it. Eventually, Idecided to go for this.

I hope you like it

Set in: 4X19. With somedisregarding the time-line in terms of plot.

New York rose around the three of them as theyexited the car, the buildings and noise from the city circling their throats asthey eyed the apartment building that stood in front of them. It wasn't as badas the one Regina and Emma had been in while searching for Lily and theunspoken but still deliberate comparison pended over their heads. It could bethe still fresh magic surge Emma had felt back at the road, but the blonde feltherself sway for a second as Regina circled the car, a careful hand touchingthe back of her elbow the moment she lost her footing, boots scratching theasphalt with a sound unnaturally loud for the younger woman's ears.

Eyeing the brunette woman Emma smiled at her asan almost automatic response, muscles tense around her mouth and eyes as shetried to regain her balance. She didn't need long before she felt ready to walkinto the building, the scent of cooking food wafting towards them as Lilywaited, back against the metallic door of the car. Eyes swift and browfurrowed, she kept a close eye on both Regina and Emma with the kind ofcuriosity that made the blonde feel uneasy; watched, judged. Beginning to takea step away from Regina as the brunette's brown eyes traveled from the façadeof the building towards her face, Emma saw the telling signs of a storm brewingon the older woman's pupils. Which, she knew, would have been colored inpurples and lilacs would have they been back inside the barrier that protectedStorybrooke from the rest of the world.

Despite the impossibility of something magical,Emma could almost feel the scent of ozone on the back of her throat, forming aquickly thickening coat that made her swallow, nervous. Halting, the hold onher elbow tightened just enough for her eyes to widen as she glanced back towhere Regina was still looking at her, expression open, somber.

"Don't you want to enter?" Thequestion came out of her in a much weaker way than she had intended and thehalf-hearted circle her free hand started as her words were swallowed by thesurrounding noise, died before she could even finish it. Fingers growing warmas her skin grew too thin beneath Regina's hold, Emma felt the residual angershe had tried to keep on stocking for the duration of their journey –the onethat had made her feel feverish as she had stared at Lily through the barrel ofher gun, diminish and wither in a way that made her gasp.

Regina kept staring at her, as she pushed herto the side, close enough for them to keep an eye on Lily but far enough forEmma to stumble as the former queen let her go from her grasp, standing close,however, for Emma to glance down, unsure.

"You told me that in this world therewere neither heroes nor villains." The brunette's words were said without preamble, her voice soft butstill holding a very particular bite to it; the same kind of one Emma had felton her bones a few hours ago when she had felt ready to repeat something shefelt she had already done with Cruella; the woman's face embedded into theinsides of her eyelids. Regina had brought her back from that with a chillingunderstanding that made her shiver as she glanced at Lily, unable to stopherself. The other woman glared back; anger seeping through, distrust on herpupils.

She had, indeed, said it so. And there was athing she believed in; a thing that had turned out to be the backbone of hervery reasoning way before Henry had knocked on her door. There were bad people,good people; real people.

Yet, ever since she had entered intoStorybrooke greys were beginning to become more and more difficult to look atthem, always distorted by history and pain from a world she felt as far away asmagic had felt once. The very thought of it made her recoil; the admission ofher self; her own self, the only thing that had been everything she had beenable to feel sure about for the longest of times a byproduct of someone else'sdecision acting as hot iron on her inwards; metal bands clutching her heart asshe tried to breathe.

She wondered as she looked back at Regina; ifthe older woman could sense her turmoil with the same precision she had beenable to tell her she intended to go with her in this crazy plan of returningthe woman who had been the recipient of someone else plan in the same way thetwo of them had been. She knew, even before the words were fully formed in hermind, that the brunette could, indeed.

Feeling mangled to the point of no return,formless in the way Regina kept eyeing her as if waiting for some kind ofresponse; far too hot, far too intense, far too full of a promise Emma couldonly bite her bottom lip at, the blonde swallowed thickly before nodding once,twice.

"Idid."

Regina sighed, tension leaving her body as sherose the hand that had been circling the blonde's arm, fingers curved still,soft as they paused an inch away from Emma's jaw, warmth radiating in wavesthat felt entirely too powerful for them to not be magical. As impossible asthat was.

"Ineed you to focus on that, Emma." Regina closed the already minusculedistance that kept them apart even more with one single step towards herdirection, her chest brushing Emma's, her fingers hovering less than an inchaway from her face as the blonde realized she was trembling, nervous and aboutto bolt and yet still not truly wanting to. "We will talk when we are backto Storybrooke. I promise you that. But I need you to believe what you toldme."

"Ido believe…" For a second, Emma thought of Henry, her voice holding thesame whining quality the teen's voice took whenever either of them reminded himthat he needed to eat healthily. Ashamed, she glanced down, the movementcreating the contact she hadn't been sure she was ready for; the graze ofRegina's fingers powerful in the same sense a magical discharge would be,phantom-like sparks igniting her blood-stream.

"You don't." Regina's eyes werewise, her cheeks flushed and Emma needed to bite down on her tongue as shebattled against the need to tilt her head, to kiss her, to throw everythingelse she had been trying to build out of expectations to someone who had seenher more like a bargaining chip, a concept, rather than what she had been, outof the window. "You did once but you don't anymore."

It was cryptic enough for the blonde to want toscream again, to tell Regina to keep silent about things she truly didn'tunderstand. What was there to say after all? Emma felt robbed of the veryability to answer back with anger; rage an emotion good people weren't supposedto feel anymore. Not when one's moral compass was, apparently, in jeopardy.

Before she was able to fully comprehend her ownstring of thoughts, words blurted out of her; scalding ones that felt more likegashes into the air between the two of them as she took that step back, movingaway from Regina's far too beckoning warmth. One she missed the second she felther senses grow less clear, less vivid, as New York's smoke embraced her.

"You say this, but you think like themtoo." Neither of the two needed to askwho she was referring to and even if Lily's head snapped towards them as if shehad been able to listen to her words, Emma merely licked her lips before shelowered her chin, hair tickling at her cheeks. "You are in this mightyhorse, Regina, about pain and redemption but you also think that everythingthat moves away from this very narrow path will automatically turn me…"

"Into a villain?" Regina's mouthquirked into a smile so reminiscent from the one Emma could still rememberseeing on the counterpart she so briefly had been able to meet that theblonde's wrath turned to ice. Chuckling gravely, Regina shook her head whileshe lowered her hand, placing it over her own stomach, not pressing but flat."Haven't you read Henry's comics dear? It's always much more complicatedthan that."

Emma closed her hands into fists, musclesstraining beneath her clothes. She had denied herself a negative response tothe very little information she had gotten; she had turned deaf to the gutsensation that had kept her alive for the most part of her adult life. A thingshe had promised herself to never do again. She felt spent, pained, and so shecentered her every core around it, wishing for another thunderbolt to cross thesky that felt darker than it should truly be; almost yellow around the corner,dirty and washed out on its light.

"Then why did you even say…" She wasstopped by Regina's closing the little distance she had created for them withtoo much easiness. The kind of one that made her almost want to ask her in bitternesswhy she was even doing this in front of her supposed soulmate's apartment.Hasn't she been so worried about him? About a man who had crossed the line andreadied himself to never see her again? The questions; callous, died on hertongue as Regina sighed and rose her fingers once more, trapping one lock ofher hair and placing it back behind her ear with a quickness to it; a rawhonesty to it, that Emma could only gape.

"Because that's what the voice inside yourhead is telling you; that your parents are right."

Regina's eyes were full once more and Emmaglanced at Lily as she tried to regain some sense to the way the sentencefloated towards her, chaining itself to her very skin. The other brunette,however, merely rose one eyebrow towards her; something else equally deep onthem; a kind of something that felt almost animalistic in the way it made Emmashudder as she focused on the former queen once more.

Woman who was far from finishing.

"You do want to have these responses tothem, to the pain. But you don't want to give into the satisfaction of aself-written warning."

Emma pointed at the building a few meters awayfrom them, agitated enough to push back even if she didn't know exactly how.This time, it was her who got into Regina's space; breathing hard; ragged.

"Aren't you doing the same then?"

Regina's eyes flashed, and, for a moment, Emmaalmost expected a magic attack from her, one like the one she had gotten solong ago at the brunette's porch. It, of course, never came, but she still feltthe muscles on her abdomen tighten as ire turned into a blade. One she feltbothered enough to use. Even if that meant burning every bridge.

"You say this but here you are; talkingabout anger and rage as if that alone would make you evil." Seething, Emmashook her head; trying to clear her thoughts enough to form a wall between thebrunette and herself even if everything was telling her just keep pushing, tokeep moving, until neither she or Regina had a place, had space, to go.Gritting her teeth, Emma grasped Regina's hand by her wrist; fingertips pressedagainst the brunette's pulse point. "And you are so much better than that."

Than him.

For a moment, a far too long moment, neither ofthem moved and as Emma's ears began to pick New York's aura back once again,she felt the prickling sensation of a decision begging to be made settlingaround her stomach, getting lower with every breathing she took.

Until Regina made the decision for her andstepped back; lips fuller-looking than before. Casting a side-way glance toLily, the brunette shrugged; self-deprecatingly.

"You stopped yourself."

"You made me."

The words flew, and Emma hugged her torso;unsure of what was she trying to defend anymore. Or if she was really supposedto. Regina sighed deeply at that before she hummed; lost in thought.

"You deserve better, Emma. Deep down, youknow it."

And, with that, she walked towards thebuilding's door, posture as perfect as ever; steps as full of momentum as Emmahad always known her.

"You could have done worse, Swan."Lily's words registered slowly but when they did Emma couldn't do a thing asthe woman smirked, the resemblance to Mal a flashing thought.

"We aren't what you think."

"Don't you want it?"

#swan queen #SwanQueen #prompt #pre-relationship #emettkaysworld

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smolbeandrabbles · 5 years

Text

Out of Nowhere Girl Pt.2 - Director Keller / Talos (Captain Marvel)

Part 1

Author’s Note: Did anyone else temporarily forget what this was supposed to be? Because I did. Short. Was the answer. What has developed in my head is a LOT longer. So, I hope you enjoy the ride with Mr.Keller this time around... Pretty much had a brain explosion over the last week due to those deleted scenes and then everyone throwing GIFs around. So here we are! This is also the first time I really get to introduce you to my Keller. As he’s almost entirely a blank slate... I hope you like him! We are following 3 Time Stamps: 1993-1995, allowing us to focus on Keller/Maliyah’s relationship. 1995, in the aftermath of the events of Captain Marvel Present/10 Years Later (c.2005, I suppose), To follow the real story line.

I hope this doesn’t get confusing as hell... Disclaimer: MCU Characters not mine. I stick by Jonathan Richard Keller. No “Canon” is changing that. I’m certainly NOT sorry.

#ComicCanon Premise: Keller had always wondered what was out in space. Naturally he never expected the answer to be ‘the girl of his dreams’; and now he has to let her go...? Talos and Maliyah figure out where they need to get - and it ain’t all good... Words: 3877 Warnings: Zip!

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There were no stars in sight Then the planets all aligned When I saw her eyes One look that's all it took To send me to another galaxy She said, she was on her way to Mars Then she ran into a star and she fell into my arms Thank you gravity, never let her go I'll hide her U.F.O., she'll never have to know She's my space girl and she's outta this world ...She looked kinda bored Said she'd seen it all before Made me wonder even more Which universe was hers? What galaxy did she call home? Like a meteor I'm fallin’ From the first time I saw her It was heaven on earth

--- Circa 1993 Getting called to any incident was likely a bad thing. Except this one. This one, Keller couldn't refuse. The course, rough, ugly streaks through the salt left harsh black scars where the ship had hit before coming to a complete stop. Keller tried to stop himself from getting too giddy. He'd long been a geek when it came to space - if you got him started on science and astronomy, he was off like a proverbial rocket. (To be honest, any flying craft was likely to get him talking like that; as the model planes in his offices and his apartment would prove… But space was his real muse.) And this didn't look like it had come from Earth. Which is of course, why Keller and his S.H.I.E.L.D agents had been called in. He had to be professional about this situation though. He had a team of good, good people. And he couldn't risk their lives. He was the leader and he had a responsibility. Even if he was slightly freaking out about the prospect of meeting an alien life form. "Sir, have you ever seen anything like this?" Keller shook his head. Not as an agent, nor director had he ever been called to a UFO sighting or similar. He'd dreamed it, plenty of times. But he'd never actually been. "No..." he was quiet, but his voice no less authoritative. When he spoke, they listened. No questions. "Team, proceed with caution. We don't know what we're dealing with..." The structure of the ship was weird in itself. The blue and yellow painted metal twisted, but not completely broken. It was shaped a little bit like an 8 point star - or would have been - there was definitely nothing like that on Earth. Keller’s heart jumped in his chest and he had to check himself a few times. "Life signs?" "Negative, sir." He wasn’t disappointed, that didn't mean there weren't any. "Keep on your toes. All your wits about you, we are a little out of our depth here..." and Keller couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched either. As his crew searched amongst the wreckage Keller surveyed the scene again. He'd have to call it in. Of course, he would. But what do you even write on a report like this? No doubt the board - the creators of S.H.I.E.L.D themselves - would want this as down low and classified as possible. And these marks all over Utah’s salt flats would need to be explained away somehow. Now he had to think on a cover story AND get this ship out of here without Joe public finding out a thing. He'd done similar before. He wasn't worried. That was when he spotted her. Standing a little way away but not trying to look inconspicuous. Keller visibly startled and his heart leapt again. He looked back to his preoccupied team and then touched his right side. His pistol was there. Keller was a quick draw... He proceeded. She didn't, almost like she was waiting for him to come to her. But she eyed the team around the ship with some interest. Keller all at once realised he didn't know what he was going to say. This was his first ever in counter with an alien lifeform and he couldn't screw it up! But what to say!? She was silent herself and looked relaxed about the situation. Dressed in black flight pants and a black-and-tan vest top that cut just above her stomach, what looked like a weapon on her right hip, where her hands sat relaxed (should he ask her to remove her weapon? Was that a dumb thing to ask?), her clothing was a little ripped and charred but, she looked miraculously intact. The star shaped necklace that hung from her neck on a fine chain was eerily reminiscent of the ship now buried in the dried-up lake behind them. Her shoulder length hair ran pink and purple and she almost looked human. But he was transfixed by her eyes. Deep blue, purple. No they were certainly purple. And they looked like they held stars - cosmic. Keller felt lightheaded. Have mercy-! He took a deep breath; "Is the ship yours?" Dumb-! Dumb, Keller-! That's your first sentence!?! Really!?! You've dreamed of this moment since you were about 3 and that's the first thing you say!?! She gave a smile, then a slight laugh. "Yeah." then with a raised eyebrow; "What are you doing to it?" English. She spoke English. And her voice... Good lord. Keller found he had to check himself AGAIN. "Guess I'm on Earth." She kept talking "You’re human. Obviously." He had a nice accent. It was different to Peter’s, for sure, the twang, but... American. Had she landed in America? Maliyah Saal couldn’t keep the smile from her face; it was nice to be around a human again even if accidentally. She could feel his emotion so clearly; the internal fighting with himself was like reading a book. A very interesting book, mind you. How he seemed to switch between excitement and fear. Constantly. How she could feel him fighting to choose every word he said. She was positive that she was the first extra terrestrial race he’d ever encountered. "We were sent to investigate the crash. Yeah, you're... On Earth... Utah." She didn't need to know that. Why was he saying this!? Was he nervous? Was he babbling because he was nervous!?! "Where are you from...?" She tipped her head, trying to decide if she trusted him or not. But Maliyah decided she did; "I came from Xandar. But... I'm from Aauraa. That's my race. Auron.” That's two places that had life out there. Now he was certain there were many more. He held out his hand, she didn't seem dangerous. Hell. She seemed like everything he'd ever wanted. Think of what she could tell him. "I'm Jonathan Keller. I'm the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D." he had a warm smile and she liked that "I guess I'm between LA and Atlanta..." He didn't know why he was telling her about two places she didn't know. But he'd been raised right, and he politely matched the information she was giving him. Jonathan, she almost had to laugh again. Jonathan Keller and Peter Quill... Two human males that clearly couldn't be further apart. For one, the male in front of her was a lot older; a man and not a boy. He was wearing a suit that edged professional, but she was willing to bet, from the fact he was here, it was not a kind of... Corporate role. The team was significant. And she had observed enough to know that he was both the leader and had their respect and trust. That was important. His hair was once dark but had faded to grey overtime. Still, the black that showed up in places let her know Keller was not nearly as old as it made him look. And his eyes. She'd not seen a blue quite that spectacular in all her years of travel. And she'd been more than her fair share of places. He watched as she backed up slightly, eyes wide and turned to his team. All at once they had noticed what was going on, stood in a neat row that flanked him. They all had their guns drawn, but all were pointed to the ground. Good. He didn’t want to screw this one up. They were a good team. They probably knew he wasn’t in trouble, but they were ready to spring into action if she tried anything. He motioned for them to lower their weapons; “It’s Okay…” Keller’s voice was suddenly vastly different from how he was speaking to her. And she noticed it instantly. How calm he was. “…She’s Okay… It’s alright…” This was a man who had been in charge a long time. Who had seen a lot. And knew exactly how to handle a situation. These other humans were not loyal to him because of his title. They were loyal to him because he had earned it. Jonathan Keller had proven he was worthy of it. And that made Maliyah smile even more, she knew that ship would be out of action for a while until she fixed it. And if she had to find and trust someone on this planet… there wouldn’t have been a better man to encounter than him. Keller turned back to her as his agents did as he asked. Her eyes were trained on his face, and her lips were slightly parted. He wanted to call it awe. But that was impossible. Why would something so beautiful be in awe of him? When she had come from way out there in the stars? He inhaled, and then exhaled – and this time it worked. And they both felt the way his nerves calmed – though he didn’t know it. He extended his hand to her; a customary professional Earth greeting when meeting for the first time; “Is this.. your first time on earth?" Maliyah reached out and took his hand and he felt himself go lightheaded again. Gosh-! Now he was touching her..?!! He wondered if she knew how excited he was. That this was possibly better than every alien encounter dream he'd ever had. He hoped his professionalism was intact. "Maliyah, Saal. Treasure hunter... Member of the Nova Corp." Director sounded important. She wanted to match that herself "And yes." He had to smile then, properly. Maliyah Saal sounded like she came from the stars. "Well..." Keller glanced around him and then met those eyes again; "Welcome to Earth."

She inclined her head in thanks. But Keller needed to think quick. It wasn’t just a girl he was dealing with. But that ship too. Maliyah let his hand go, because it was clear he wasn’t going to do the same. She was glad that her skin would only ignite if they were together. Not that she would dwell on that, she knew she wasn’t supposed to be here and that Earth was about the one place in the galaxy that didn’t know about the races that lived in the rest. She would not stay long enough to form any kind of friendship with him, simply an arrangement of coincidence. Still – when his skin touched hers, she couldn’t help but feel all his emotion. She wanted desperately to calm him down – to tell him not to be as terrified as he was. Because there was no denying under his exterior he WAS. But she couldn’t reveal exactly what she was just yet – which meant she couldn’t exert influence on him either. At least not here. “…Maliyah, I’m afraid we will have to move your ship. As you may well imagine we are not used to coming into contact with…” He hesitated, aliens? Could he say that to her? Was that offensive..? “…Other races.” “I understand.” Although she couldn’t see his teeth she could tell they were sinking into his bottom lip – solemn “…I also need to ask you to come with me.” He didn’t want to say it. Keller didn’t want to sound like he would have to take her by force – but knew he would if necessary. She understood that too; but was curious enough; “Where?” “There is a facility not too far from here.” The lip bite turned into a smile, it was a warm smile. He was smiling at her because he wanted to, not because he had to. It had nothing to do with reassurance, “I promise you, you will be safe there.” ** 1995

The drive to Utah was long, slow and quiet. In fact, Keller thought that if he didn't turn the radio up he would go insane. It had taken another couple of months for him to convince her to even get in his car to go and he knew that she would not want to fix her ship in a hurry. He'd taken the liberty of getting a close-knit band of engineer's together to give himself a head start. She'd probably get mad about that. But he knew what he was doing was for the best. Maliyah would come ‘round to that. She'd got in the car, hadn't she?

He looked across to her, the road was empty and seemed to stretch endlessly. Mile markers aside he felt he was a million lightyears from Utah.

Today she was wearing biker boots and slim fit jeans, shirt over figure hugging vest top she actually looked human. But, far from happy. Arms crossed, looking out the window, feet up on his dash, legs crossed. Even though he'd told her multiple times to take them down. She was pouty too, which was unfortunate because it just made her look cute. The only thing about her that was inhuman was the vibrant colours (because she'd damn well let her emotions show at this point!!) that streaked across her arms. This time they reminded him of the warning lights of deep-sea creatures. She was just mad... And dealing with a lot she didn't understand: or pretended she didn't understand. Jonathan knew he could never fathom which. For all she had opened up to him, he knew there were still many secrets she held back.

“Maliyah…” She shifted in her seat but said nothing “Maliyah look at me…” She heard it in his voice – he was hurting because she was intent on ignoring him, he was hurting because he felt he had to let her go, he was hurting because she was hurting him. “Supernova... Please...” She would have looked to him anyway, but that nickname... he’d use that nickname. So she turned. “Jonathan, I… Don’t want to talk about it.” “…But you know we have to get you off planet… Right? I couldn’t bare to think about whatever these Skrulls might have got out of my head. And now that more people know about what’s really out there, your file will not stay lock-and-key classified for long I can assure you…” Keller put his eyes back on the road, because they smarted when they were locked on hers. Pushing the rolled-up sleeves of his light-blue-purple checked shirt up even further. He noticed her eyes follow the motions and land on his wrist watch with its too many dials. She remembered the inscription on the back and the NASA symbol. NASA – yet another organisation that should know about her and didn’t. Yet another ode to his great love for the stars. Keller knew already how many times he would have to testify on her presence on Earth. Luckily, as his first report had been straight to the board of S.H.I.E.L.D he wouldn’t lose his job for keeping Maliyah to himself – but he might be heavily reprimanded once all the advisory boards and committees started popping up. She finally answered him, also looking ahead, “I do… But I am worried about leaving you.” “I can take care of myself.” “I know you can. But you don’t think I will be worried every time I feel pain?” He tipped his head with a hmm to dodge the question. But realised he couldn’t swerve it like it was a pot-hole in this endless stretch of highway; “…If I make my desk job a desk job, would that make you happier?” “…You tried that already.” “What if I really did it this time?” She shook her head. “That wouldn’t make YOU happy. And I care about that more.” He removed his right hand from a wheel and held it out for her to take. She did, between both of hers. At once her skin ignited; but the colours were soft. She pressed her lips into his palm and he felt that rush of joy, not too much – it was kept toned down. She was doing it again – picking him up. He encased one of her hands in his. It said all he needed too. Though sometimes when she did this Keller couldn’t help but wonder exactly what else Maliyah could influence on a person. She used it for good things… But he had always been fairly positive that if she wanted to see the world in despair, she could do that without a second thought. She was incredible. She would be incredible without being with him; the fact that she was still sometimes made him feel like he was dreaming. …Could he really let her go? For her own good. To protect her. I would do anything…

The reason he had even mentioned keeping himself at his desk was if he got hit too hard (it had to be pretty hard. If she didn’t know anything about his escapade with the shapeshifters), if he bled at all; be it a papercut or a medical check-up pinprick, she would feel that too. Some things Keller just wouldn’t be able to protect her from. He wasn’t always willing to accept this. But she had bonded with him and it had been her choice. Her acknowledgement of the consequences of their union showed nothing but how much she loved him. And God, if he didn’t love her just as much. ** He took his foot off the gas and the car ticked up another mile as a crop of buildings began to creep up on the horizon line. It was all too much too soon. And even her happy influence couldn’t stop him from biting his lip so hard. It was all he could do to stem any tears he could feel coming. No matter how long it took Maliyah to get her ship into order, she wouldn’t leave this facility now until she was ready to break Earth’s atmosphere. His hand shook as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose – don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry… God. Jonathan Richard Keller be STRONG for her. He couldn’t. And he let out a sob; he was shocked that he had, and instantly covered his mouth. She was looking at him now with wide eyes, her lips parted for words she couldn’t say. She knew. Maliyah could feel his sorrow bubbling up inside him but it still shocked her when it broke the surface. Her eyes flicked to the buildings, enlarging by the second, and back to him. They were still a few miles away. But to Keller, it would never be far enough. And he’d insisted on this. He squinted slightly – he could hold those tears back all he wanted; she knew emotionally they were already flowing down his face “I’m sorry…” It was muffled by his hand. “I’m so sorry.” 15 minutes and no tears later he rolled the car to the security gates. He hesitated as his hand hovered over his pass. He had until the guard strolled over to change his mind. To take her back home, because she belonged here with him and he knew that. But how long would that last? How big of a risk was it to keep her here? It wouldn’t just be her home that were looking for her in reality, or the Skrulls if that was even something they would do, but the home she had left. Her older brother, her adoptive parents. Keller knew all about them, and if he was any of those three, he’d want her back. He’d be worried about her. Even that didn’t stop him from wanting to turn back. Maliyah placed her hand gently over his, she may not know his exact thoughts, but she knew how to read his face. She swallowed; it was time for her to be the strong one. “We can do this.” He glanced across to her as she pushed his hand down to enclose around his S.H.I.E.L.D ID card. She was smiling. And this was one of reassurance. “Together. We can do this.” ***

Present

“How exactly do you propose we find them?” Talos looked around, it was built small for a Ravager vessel; he knew that by the fire like emblem emblazoned on the wing of the ship. Inside it was decked out for no more than one or two people; But the tech, all of it new and polished, Talos guessed must have been Xandarian. “…This isn’t just any Milano.” Maliyah indicated to what he had already noticed, “The amount of tinkering I’ve done to this thing over the years… Doesn’t even bare thinking about. The computer system can do just about anything. There’s tech from my home world, tech I’ve lifted with the help of, or from, Ravagers. Earth – obviously! - things I’ve transferred from the Nova Corps vessels, my own crews’ Vessels - They’re pretty much grounded until further notice - But, It’s a Xandarian system. I’m connected to all databases I can get my hands on, most of them I have actual access to – a bit of hacking never hurt anyone…” She sat on the arm of her pilots’ seat and tapped a few things into her computer “…Essentially, every race has a different kind of ship and different fuel elements for each ship. These are good indicators of the who and where, the ship gives out a lot of different signatures of its own, but the fuel particles. That’s what we’re gonna go follow. I don’t always trust ship radars bouncing off of things in space… Very sketchy at times.” “How do you know how to do half these things?” The computer set to work, so she slid into the seat and indicated to a chair; “Buckle up-!” Igniting the fuel of her own ship, the Milano hummed into life. “That human you simed.” She turned to him with a grin “He’s a lot damn smarter than me. I have the tech, I can engineer the tech. He is every single piece of code and every mathematical algorithm behind that tech.”

The Milano’s ship computer beeped enthusiastically as it located the trail left by the Kree ship – running its own diagnostic it came up with a probable location. Making Maliyah grimace; “UGH!” “What?” Talos tilted his head and squinted at the flashing coordinates and corresponding planet name - he didn’t recognize either. “We don’t want to go THERE. Geez, that’s like, half way over the other-other side of the Kree’s sector of the Galaxy…” “…Meaning what?” He turned to her, but Maliyah had that determined look on her face he almost couldn’t help but smile at. “Don’t you worry about it. I’ll get you there. It’s once we’re there… I’ll just need some crew back up.” “…Thought you just said your crew was grounded.” She shrugged “Pfft! They were a bunch of trigger-happy treasure hunters before I got them organised into an efficient crew. They’ll just be doing that again-! I’m not dumb enough to think they’d actually listen to a WORD I said.” She pulled another smile and lightly punched the top of his arm; “You’re gonna be glad for that when we get over there.” “Trigger happy sounds just what we need.” It was clear sarcasm. Maliyah grinned, she liked him already. This was going to work out; hell it had to work out. “That planet is deceptively tricky. They’re not going to like me very much, they’re CERTAINLY not gonna like you.”

---

I’m not partial to believing Keller fell in love with her at first sight. But it IS possible that he has a crush on a girl that comes from Space.

GIF Credit: @winterswake @dennismitchell - Omgosh, I have a brain like a sive! But I remembered to tag you this time, sweetie! 😘😘 @morganadarkladyofall

#Keller x OC #Director Keller #Keller #Talos #Captain Marvel #Shes my supernova #She's HIS supernova!!!#Same damn nickname but of course it is #Keller is SO super important to me...#He's just...#I love him. and i LOVE him with her #She deserves him. But I don't think she think SHE deserves him #genuinely the worst piece of posting editing ever #I can’t even look!#45 #Maliyah #so embarrassed I can’t even tag Ben...

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idonotknowandthatismything · 5 years

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Sexuality & Gender Identity

Mine is complicated but it doesn’t feel so-

I indeed do not like labeling myself coz maybe I haven’t explored different sides of me, huh?

I mean about everything. Do not be stuck. Do not make borders for yourself. Do not underestimate and overwhelm yourself.

First thing: Gender?

I do not care about gender at all, in the future I want to get rid of my boobs which are indeed big, whatever. I born as a female, but ask me, how feminine I am! Oh Gosh no. I do not feel like a male or female or want to be a female or male or intersex. I do not want any gender. I sometimes wish I was a male, but this is because I want a flat chest and member can be fun, who knows (just kidding I do not like d*ck in any way). Btw, I obviously do not want to get pregnant, I mean, ew. So, I recognize myself as a human being. Being a female - biologically- means nothing at all. There comes the reason why I have an antipathy to traditions and society. In every inch of earth, there is no exact place for Queer people so they suffer. I said I will get rid of my boobs, does that make me transgender? I actually do not know nor care. Because I said before, gender means nothing to me. So I have no gender.

Secondly: Fuck, yeah?

no. stop. Okay, this one is clear. I do not want to have sex with any kind of stuff in this world. Yeah, the idea is good but whateverthefuck... I prefer to cuddle, kiss and hug and hug and hug... I LOVE hugging! So, they call it demisexual, don’t they?

Last but not least (lmao): Sexuality??

Do I have one? jjfdnvjdfknvfdsjkl okay after saying that I have no gender and sex is not my thing, things got even more complicated, what do I do! We need to calm down, c’ mon it shouldn’t be that hard... I am so confused that I forgot what does sexuality mean. LMAO, bye my fellow brain cells. I definitely know that I like girls. But falling in love is sth that doesn’t see gender, it is me. So if I love a man or a drag queen I will never hesitate or deny. I love every single person. So, I am pansexual, right? Yeah, I guess I am. But I need to say that I have always been interested in girls. I scarcely liked men and trans people.

But let’s do not have that information in our brains since everything I possible. I may love a man or I may want to have sex. gosh, it sucks but the main idea is, what seems impossible now can be real in the future.

As you see, things are not easy for queers. another trouble for ourselves, huh? If you consider that every queer people are facing with themselves and suffering from being unrealized, you need to respect and maybe push yourself a bit to understand queers. No matter what is your sexuality, you need to respect and try to understand others. A gay man shouldn’t be disliking dar queens or lesbians shouldn’t be discriminating trans women, etc, etc. First, we, as the queers, need to take care of ourselves and protect each other. Then we need to inform questioning people, then their families and relatives and goes on. It is not that easy but if we collaborate, we can even find the hidden treasure under the rainbow.

Love xx

#gay #bisexual #pansexual #gender #homosexuality #lesbian #pride #lgbtqiia+#love #respect

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meeks-writing · 5 years

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Almost Perfect. A blue Flames Death

Epilogue

After the firth joy faded, he realized he had nowhere to go. For a brief moment he thought about his grandmother who had promised to shelter him when he ran away. But that meant to accept that, he had failed his siblings. That they were still with their father and he couldn’t admit to them that he had lost them in a silly bet.

He was a terrible big brother. He was a bad example. He had made promises that were impossible to keep, had attacked a nurse, and stolen. He was a criminal now. And they remember the picture of the wonderful big brother they had always mistook him for. They were better off without him. Everything truly bad that happened in this past year was because of him.And maybe, just maybe, losing a son would make his father think, at least a tiny bit. If he would ever miss him. He found he didn’t care. He had different problems. He was a homeless, and probably hopelessly wounded, teenager. The streets he had wandered off to were a dangerous place. But it was the only place where they wouldn’t search for him. Because they would consider him dead before they could find him. And maybe that was for the best. If he was lucky, a villain would take interest in granting him a swift death…

Until now, he had seen these parts of the city only on TV. It was something else entirely to be here himself. He had not expected the odor of piss and iron. Most likely blood. It made him nauseous. Not that he wasn’t nervous enough already.

Even though no one had paid any attention to him, he felt observed. Such a strange feeling. Sometimes he would turn around, seeing no one but some intoxicated beggar, that was mostly asleep. Or maybe half dead. He didn’t want to take a closer look. There were things he didn’t want to get involved in anymore. And he would get an infection there for sure. That death would be very painful and slow, while he was an easy bait for the thugs around here.

So he chose to bend in another side street. He was not sure what he wanted to find there. But for sure it wasn’t what he did find. A man in an electric blue costume was lying on the ground, not moving an inch. Above him, a man that looked more like a corpse. No real nose, and skin so pale it could have been mistaken for his skull. And eyes full of killing intent. The sword in his hand rose high over the helpless hero. The latter had now noticed the teenager standing in the alley and started to cry for help.

The killer looked up, his face revealing a faint surprise. He seemed to scan Touya as if to decide what to do with him.

The red haired boy found himself speaking without ever thinking about what to say. “Don’t bother. I have no intention of meddling.” that was actually the truth. That was unusual for him, but he accepted it. That was what he was now. He was so tired of fighting. Of caring. He just felt numb.

The victim spat at him. Or at least tried to. He opened his mouth to say something, but Touya didn’t mind. He already faced the other man that still held his sword high, eying Touya with some amusement.

“What reason do you have to kill him?” His voice was still flat, only showing mild interest.

The eyes of the other man went thoughtful. As if to make out what hidden meaning these words may contain. His answer was delayed. Instead, his sword drove him, his eyes still fixed on Touya. It had pierced the throat. Blood splattered. Touya didn’t move an inch, just standing there, casually watching it like he was doing the dishes.

Eyes still locked with the teenager, the killer yanked his sword from the still body.

“This man was pretending to be a hero. His mind was clouded by money and fame. I am here to cleanse this society of fake heroes.”

Touya let these words sink in. “What is your name?”

“Call me Stain! Hero Killer Stain.” Silence rose between them. “And you? Not about to cry for help in the presence of a murderer?”

Touya shrugged. For a second he considered telling him his name. But this was his chance now, to get rid of the last thing his father had forced on him. This stupid name filled with expectations he never wanted to meet. He wouldn’t be his father’s burning arrow in All Might’s heart. “I don’t have a name anymore. And I’m not doing anything here. I freed myself of the definition from right or wrong this society is forcing upon its people. Fucking hypocrites!” Swearing felt strange. But good. “That’s all. There is no justice, so there are no crimes either.” His eyes were drawn to the dead hero at the ground. “These sick bastards destroyed justice…” It was clear from his voice that he wasn’t talking about this man directly. His mind was far off in this moment, his voice full with a grudge.

After a brief moment he lifted his eyes back to Stain, his voice firm as he said: “Take me with you!”

Stain seemed rather baffled by this suggestion. But then he shrugged. “Are you in on my mission? I don’t need a sidekick slowing me down.”

The redhead nodded. “It is the only thing that seems worth living for.”

Silence settled again. At least Stain seemed to think about the suggestion. “Show me your face.” The nameless teenager raised his hands slowly to the hem of his stolen hat. Then threw it away in a swift motion, looking straight into Stain’s eyes with turquoise Todoroki eyes. Revealing the patchworked skin. Some smooth and sensitive skin, some burned to a crisp.

“Fine. But sooner or later I need a name to call you by. Make one up.”

They had traveled for a month until the teenager fulfilled Stain’s first request for him.

“Dabi. I want to be called Dabi.” Stain had wanted him to come up with a new name.

Stain looked up from his blade he was about to sharpen. “Why Dabi?”

Cremation. It was a way to die. Many people let themselves be cremated after death, and then buried. It seemed a lame name for a killer.

“Because there is a fake hero I have to take down myself.” All this time traveling, he had assisted Stain behind the scenes, gathered information, and so on. But he never had joined the actual killing. “And I will burn him till nothing is left of him but dust. Not even his honour, nor his name. He will die a blue flame’s death.”

Stain nodded. A smile appeared on his lips. “A good name, Dabi. From now on, I will train you.”

The two of them had stayed together for years. Dabi had learned a lot from Stain. He had mastered these blue flames.

And now, as Stain was dead, his time came to take down hero society. And this man was his starting point. Soon his whole world would come burning down.

#dabi is a todoroki #almostperfect #dabi #todoroki touya

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