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apocalypse-shuffle · 4 months

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SAM WILSON | CAPTAIN AMERICA/FALCON (the mcu | tfatws | captain america: the winter soldier)

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“Arm Day” (Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader)

| You don’t show up for your running “date” with Sam so he shows up at your place to get a different kind of exercise in.

| SFW, exercising, romantic tension(?)

| Jesus, my summary is very nearly an innuendo. (Pic Source — Captain America: Civil War [peachy-ash icon], Captain America: The Winter Soldier [iconpsds icon], The Falcon & The Winter Soldier [marina-na-na icon])

| Inspo: Instagram

| 1k+ words

It’s the sound of your phone buzzing against your nightstand that wakes you up, and with a groan you lift your head to squint at it.

‘Sam Wilson’ flashes across your screen and you in no way can suppress the eye roll that elicits.

He was your gym buddy more often than not, but this was getting ridiculous.

When y’all ran laps together he’d slow down for you so you could keep one another company. When you were on the treadmill he’d be running in the one right beside you and hold out his arm if you stumbled so you wouldn’t go flying, emergency stopping the machine for you. You would spot each other, go out to eat afterwards, even make meal plans together. Sam was your number one.

He was also more of a pain in your ass than your actual personal trainers had ever been in the past.

You grope around for the phone, lifting it up to your ear once your clumsy fingers stumble across it.

“Yeah?”

Your grunt is met with an honest to god laugh. At this early in the morning?

“Oh my god,” you whine. “Sam, please, what do you want?”

A scoff this time.

“Y/N, it’s Saturday. Get your ass up, we got places to be.”

Still laying on your stomach you flip your head over to press the other side of your face into your pillow and switch your phone to the other ear accordingly, eyes slipping back closed.

“We? I told you I’m not leaving my house today.”

A beat of silence and then: “Okay…”

“Awesome. Have fun sweating by-”

“I’ll see you in five.”

You choke on your spit, words coming out in a whoosh and eyes snapping open.

“Fuck no! Sam!”

The sound of the dial tone reaches your ears and you curse, shooting out of bed, sleep no longer an option.

You drop your phone on your sheets and then scramble around for some shorts. If you could get to Sam before he got all the way to your apartment maybe you’d be able to shove his overactive ass back in his car.

In a frenzy you stuff your phone in your pocket and start towards the front door scratching at your head when it hits you. You’re scratching at your bare head.

“Shit- where in the world…?”

You whip around and start back towards your bedroom to look for where your head wrap had hidden itself during the night. You weren’t going all the way downstairs looking a mess.

Anywhere on your bed was a no show. It wasn’t hanging off your lamp like you’d found it once (who knows how it ended up there in the first place), and it wasn’t under your bed.

You're just about to throw caution to the wind and run out as you are regardless when two things happen at once. You find your wrap sunken into your shoes at the end of your bed and someone knocks at your door.

“Oh come the fuck on.” You grit your teeth, snatch up and firmly situate your traitorous wrap, then stomp over to jerk open the door.

“No.”

In front of you, dressed in a gray pair of sweats, Sam frowns lightly, thick brows raising.

“You made a promise,” he hedges.

You flip off said thick - accusatory - eyebrows.

“Screw my promise. I'm going to stay home and you’re going to leave. Goodbye.”

The door closes right in his face. He doesn’t take the chance not to let it, only to step back so he doesn’t break his nose. You appreciate that.

“Now hold on-! Aw come on, Y/n!” There’s muffled shuffling behind the door, him adjusting his gym bag more than likely, before he knocks again.

While you ignore him to start taking stuff out the freezer for a smoothie - you were already up, you might as well make it worth your while - he knocks three more times.

It’s when your phone starts buzzing on the countertop that you cave, stomping back over to the door and cracking it open just enough for him to see the glower on your face.

“What part of ‘Bye’ isn’t clicking? I’m tired, my muscles ache in places I didn’t even know were possible, and if I have to meal prep anymore I’m going to scream.”

He peeks through the sliver.

“Just one little circuit, alright? I brought everything with me so you won’t have to leave… .” His eyes have taken on a particular brightness that makes you just a little weak in the knees. “I’ll even cook for you after.”

Goddamnit. Your face smooths out from the glare you were rocking and Sam’s lights up.

“See? That sounds nice, now, doesn’t it?”

“Fine. A full meal, not no damn sandwich, and you make my smoothie before we start.”

“Deal. Thought you were gonna break my heart for a minute there, I'm really glad we pulled through though.”

“Yeah yeah,” you grumble and drag him and all his crap in.

_ _ _

“If you’re still aching after two days then we probably have to adjust your routine,” he curls upward and the muscles in his arms flex, stretching the sleeve of his maroon shirt to its limit. “I’ll take a pen and paper to it and we’ll figure it out, that fine by you Queen of Sheba?”

You scoff while going down on your push-ups.

“Yeah, it’s fine Sam,” you make sure to catch his eye as you straighten your arms to come up, “thanks.”

He smiles, switching to do curls with his left arm.

You go down, but end up watching unblinking for a few seconds as the muscles on his bicep become well defined peaks.

Hn.

Sam glances up and you rapidly realize that you’ve been laying on the ground and staring creepily at him for the better part of a minute.

Roughly, you clear your throat; Sam smirks and seems to go deliberately slow on his next curl. The way you gulp hurts a little.

“See something you like?”

Scowling, you roll your eyes and pick back up where you left off on your push-ups. You’re focusing intently on the tile underneath your palms when you answer him.

“No,” you snap to the floor.

Everything about Sam’s laugh says he doesn’t believe you worth a damn.

You don’t particularly care what he thinks though; something that you reiterate over and over in your head as you go on to the next workout.

Where the fuck Sam’s forward ass got off hiking a portable pull-up bar up to your apartment you did not know, but here the thing is, sitting nice and pretty like it belonged to be an absolute eyesore in the middle of your living room.

You sigh and decidedly don’t stare at him too hard as he eases down to the floor to take your previous place and start his own round of push-ups, and probably a few floor presses or something considering he brings the dumbbells down with him.

On your end starting your pull-ups starts off relatively easy. They’ve never been your favorite - and you’re certain they never will be - but at least you could do them now since you started training with Sam almost a year ago now.

Sam was neat like that. Uplifting without slipping into condescension, and being one of the few people who could push you so thoroughly out of your comfort zone.

Certainly the only person you allowed to upheave your more flexible boundaries with so little push back.

Breath huffing out of you you force yourself to rest before starting on your next set, eyes running over your workout partner’s back and the way the muscles there are also incredibly defined as he engages them.

It was a little unfair honestly. Who gave Sam Wilson the right to look so perfect? With a grunt you start working out again.

Eventually you begin waning, you can feel it in the way your arms instantly start to shake as you try to pull your body weight up for your next set, and the excess heat building in your fingers. How even as you attempt to swing your legs to get more momentum to do the pull-up you just barely manage to get one in before your arms give out, straightening back, and you’re left just hanging there.

“Goddamn,” you curse. Today really was just not your day.

Distantly you note the soft thud of weights being set down at your left but you're so focused that you don’t notice Sam move until he’s already in front of you.

He jumps up and you make a startled noise as you come face to face before he does a pull-up as easy as can be. Your lips purse.

He grins, “I got you, come on. One more rep.”

You sigh but he’s looking right into your eyes with that soft grin on his face - and you’re a sucker - so you cave in less than five seconds. Also, you don’t want to keep hanging any longer than necessary.

“I might not have one more in me, period, but I’ll try,” you murmur as you look away. You prep your muscles to move, assuming the right position, when Sam shaking his head in your peripheral catches your attention.

“Didn’t I just say I had you?” He doesn’t wait for you to respond before he’s swinging just that much closer on one arm - fucking show off - and grabbing enough of your thigh to nudge you forward so he can get his arm around your upper leg and then pull you in.

“You’re such a show off, you know that?”

You still follow his line of reasoning, though; pulling up enough that you can get both of your legs around his waist.

Sam just laughs, teeth glinting.

“I’m just happy to help.”

“Ha,” you mock, but when he pulls up you do so with him. Your arms bend, but not with nearly as much strain as before with him taking the majority of your weight, and the pressure on your core significantly lessens.

You won’t admit to having to bite back a smile at the feel of him tucked against you.

“You okay now?”

“Yeah,” you pant out, legs tightening absentmindedly around his waist. Sam grunts lowly in the back of his throat. “You in the habit of catching people like this?”

The look that briefly flashes across his face is far more severe than you think your question merits, and when Sam answers he makes sure to look you in the eye.

“I try to be.”

Then the moment’s broken, he’s pulling you both back up into your final exercise of the day and you’re left wondering where the hell Sam Wilson got off making you love him like this.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!! If there’s any typos I’ll catch them later.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

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j0eyj0rdis0n · 8 months

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SONGS THAT REMIND ME OF THE CREEPS

with playlists (ofc)

MASKY

Happy Pills - Weathers

Heavydirtysoul - Twenty One Pilots

Trouble - Cage the Elephant

Morph - Twenty one Pilots

Down In A Hole - Alice in Chains

Numb - Linkin Park

Breaking the Habit - Linkin Park

This Is How I Disappear - My Chemical Romance

Stalker - Badflower

Duality - Set It Off

HOODIE

Another Way Out - Hollywood Undead

Fairly Local - Twenty One Pilots

Message Man - Twenty One Pilots

Sucker for Pain - Various Artists

My Blood - Twenty One Pilots

Cut My Lip - Twenty One Pilots

Breezeblocks - altJ

Nearly Witches (Ever Since We Met…) - Panic! At The Disco

Hypnotized - Set It Off

Church - Fall Out Boy

“TICCI” TOBY

Don’t You Dare Forget The Sun - Get Scared

Medicine - Hollywood Undead

I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead - Set It Off

Pain - Three Days Grace

Keep Myself Alive - Get Scared

Never Too Late - Three Days Grace

Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace

Horrible Kids - Set It Off

Mama - My Chemical Romance

Back from the Dead - Skillet

CLOCKWORK

Shatter Me - Lindsey Sterling, Lizzy Hale

Decode - Paramore

I’m So Sick - Flyleaf

I Miss the Misery - Halestorm

Enemy - Imagine Dragons, JID

Playground - Bea Miller

Catch Me If You Can - Set It Off

Ironic - Alanis Morissette

Rhiannon - Fleetwood Mac

Body Talks - The Struts, Kesha

EYELESS JACK

From The Ground - Hollywood Undead

Get Out Alive - Three Days Grace

Monster - Skillet

Dead Bite - Hollywood Undead

The Phoenix - Fall Out Boy

My Demons - STARSET

Sarcasm - Get Scared

Pet - A Perfect Circle

Somewhere I Belong - Linkin Park

Twisted Transistor - Korn

JEFF THE KILLER

Chalk Outline - Three Days Grace

So Called Life - Three Days Grace

I Can’t Decide - Scissor Sisters

Killer - The Ready Set

Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This) - Marilyn Manson

Kill Everyone - Hollywood Undead

A Little Piece of Heaven - Avenged Sevenfold

To Catch a Predator - Insane Clown Posse

Dark Side - Blind Channel

Just Pretend - Bad Omens

JANE THE KILLER

Bring Me To Life - Evanescence

Damage - Fit For Rivals

Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge

Tourniquet - Marilyn Manson

Unbreakable - Fireflight

I’m Gonna Show You Crazy - Bebe Rexha

Hit and Run - LOLO

Get Jinxed - Djerv

La Seine - Vanessa Paradis

Let’s Kill Tonight - Panic! At The Disco

NINA THE KILLER

Heather - Conan Gray

Get Well - Icon For Hire

Oh No! - MARINA

Pretty Little Psycho - Porcelain Black

Partners in Crime - Set It Off, Ash Costello

Backstabber - Kesha

DONTTRUSTME - 3OH!3

You’re So Creepy - Ghost Town

This Little Girl - Cady Groves

Guys My Age - Hey Violet

BEN DROWNED

Turbulent - Waterparks

Pretty Fly (For A White Guy) - The Offspring

Dirty Mind - 3OH!3

Riot - Hollywood Undead

oops! - Yung Gravy

Fashionably Late - Falling In Reverse

parents - YUNGBLUD

Hell of a Ride - Bo Burnham

Teeth - 5 Seconds of Summer

Bad Girls Club - Falling In Reverse

SALLY WILLIAMS

Hayloft - Mother Mother

Tag, You’re It - Melanie Martinez

Little Game - Benny

Teen Idle - MARINA

Where Do I Go - Anna Blue

Silent Scream - Anna Blue

Lolita - Lana Del Rey

Dollhouse - Melanie Martinez

All The Things She Said - Poppy

Burning Pile - Mother Mother

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barrenclan · 2 years

Photo

Alone in the middle of a desolate wasteland, BarrenClan is a hardy and irritable group of cats. They seem to have lived there for generations, and are determined to eke out survival in this unforgiving land. But one of their new apprentices, the bold and curious Pinepaw, is determined to discover the terrible truths buried under the sand, as well as rise to meet the changes coming to his Clan. Read along as the secrets unfold in “Pinepaw and the Forgotten World”.

- - -

Here is the cover! Pinepaw and the Forgotten World will update roughly every two to three weeks, depending on my schedule. All posts and issues will be archived on this blog. I hope you enjoy it!

Yes, you have my permission to use a style and/or format inspired by this comic for your own projects.

Helpful tags for navigating this blog (click on the search icon):

#issue: a list of all the completed issues. Use this tag to only see issues of the comic.

#reference: reference sheets for the characters.

#lore: background information about the world of the comic.

#extra art: drawings I create outside of the comic itself.

#fanart: drawings other people have made for the comic.

Allegiances: Family Tree (spoilers)

PATFW Discord: https://discord.gg/xXUqTYtvx5

PATFW Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0GZWVmucv2DvA4H7uLwquk (Song Guide)

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwTmUrr_9zUlCvQijucEkukNtiRpwktqs

Complete masterpost of issues, underneath Keep Reading link:

Issue 1 - Dry Heat and Cracked Earth

Issue 2 - I’ve Never Heard That Name Before

Issue 3 - Stupid Little Kit Daydreams

Issue 4 - It’s Just Like Falling Asleep

Issue 5 - Smoke and Ash and Fire and Salt and Blood

Issue 6 - Healers Hear All The Secrets

Issue 7 - Foxholes Bite Back

Issue 8 - Do You Really Think That’s Your Destiny?

Issue 9 - It’s Only a Deer

Issue 10 - What Was That Now, Dear?

Issue 11 - We’re Held Together By Spiderweb

Issue 12 - The Shining Towns

Issue 13 - To Kill Is Right. To Kill Is Good. To Kill Is To Live.

Issue 14 - The Rotten Stench of Blood

Issue 15 - Was It Something I Did?

Issue 16 - I Bet You Can’t Catch Me

Issue 17 - You Are the Darkness Before the Storm

Issue 18 - I Met Him Under a Warm Dawn

Issue 19 - Kindness for the Dying Is Easy to Spare

Issue 20 - KITTENS! KITTENS! KITTENS!

Issue 21 - Lovebug

Issue 22 - A Favor for a Favor

Issue 23 - Your Voice Was So Soft

Issue 24 - Lost In a Haze

Issue 25 - You Don’t Speak to My Daughter That Way

Issue 26 - My Heart Is Too Heavy to Sleep

Issue 27 - Little Paws Take Little Steps

Issue 28 - Viscera, Shiny in the Light of Day

Issue 29 - We’re Not So Different, You and I

Issue 30 - Time Is a Circle

Issue 31 - Blood

Issue 32 - Cassandra

Issue 33 - Hurt Me! Beat Me! Just Please Don’t Leave Me!

Issue 34 - Sunset Days

Issue 35 - The Death of BarrenClan: Part One

#page #pinepaw #warrior cats oc webcomic #warriors #pinepaw and the forgotten world #barrenclan #issue #cover

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circlique · 1 year

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Color Theory in ATLA: Part 2

Let’s talk colors! ATLA is a colorful show! I’ve already covered color coding at a surface level here if you want to read. But how else does ATLA use color narratively? This post will cover the importance of color in the narrative, which gave us such iconic, visually striking scenes as the last agni kai.

By the way, this is actually a propaganda post for @multicolor-fandom-tournament, where you should totally go vote for ATLA in the final. As much as I love Pokemon, I wanna see someone else win a poll for once. Give ATLA some love. But mostly, it's just an analysis post about Zuko. Anyway, let’s get started.

The biggest use of color in the narrative is long and drawn out, but concludes in the most visually striking scene in the series, the last agni kai between Zuko and Azula. This showdown is foreshadowed at various points throughout the show. Despite red typically being the color of fire and characters associated with it, Azula is strongly associated with the color blue. She is the only character who bends blue fire, and one of the few who can bend lightning, which is also depicted as blue. It’s described as “the cold-blooded fire.”

As Zuko’s character progresses throughout the series, he becomes haunted by the colors red and blue. The first major instance comes after he frees Appa, a selfless act that doesn’t benefit him in any way. It apparently shocks even him so much that he becomes ill and falls into a feverish sleep, where he dreams that he is the Fire Lord sitting upon the throne. Two dragons, one red, one blue, hover nearby. The blue dragon speaks with Azula’s voice and tempts him, telling him to sleep, to rest. The red dragon speaks in Iroh’s voice. It warns him not to listen to the blue dragon and tells Zuko that he must get out of there. The scene begins to crumble, and the blue dragon lunges for him. My personal interpretation of this scene is that the blue dragon represents the royal family—Zuko’s “destiny” to return to the Fire Nation and take the throne. The blue dragon tells him to sleep, to accept his destiny, while the red one encourages him to break free of the cycle perpetuated by the royal family.

This is supported by another scene with two dragons later in the narrative. In the episode The Avatar and the Fire Lord, Zuko goes below the royal palace to the archives where the history of the royal family is stored. The episode covers the history of Fire Lord Sozin and Avatar Roku and the background of Sozin’s imperialistic goals. We learn that Sozin and Roku were once friends, but had a falling out over Sozin’s ambitions. Despite this, Sozin returns to help Roku when the volcano on Roku’s home island erupts.

What does Sozin arrive on but a blue dragon.

The two fight the volcano together, and appear to be winning, but as they try to escape, Roku takes a blast of poisonous air to the face, and falls to his knees, begging Sozin to help him.

Sozin refuses, saying that with Roku gone, his plans will finally be possible. He flies away on his blue dragon, leaving Roku for dead. Roku’s dragon, Fang, who is red and often appears in visions to help the current Avatar, Aang, curls protectively around Roku as the hot ash consumes them.

Iroh then reveals to Zuko that, while Sozin was his great grandfather on his father’s side, so was Avatar Roku, on his mother’s side. If Zuko’s previous fever dream was any indication, he already knows he’s capable of breaking free of the cycle, but has been using his “destiny” as an excuse why he can’t. He’s destined for the throne. He’s destined to continue the cycle. But now Iroh tells him, if Sozin was a part of his destiny, then too, was the Avatar. And now, Zuko must confront the idea that he has a choice, that he always has, and that his destiny to rule and continue the cycle of violence is an idea of his own making.

When Zuko later confronts Ozai in Day of Black Sun, his choice is solidified, not just by his words as he confronts his father, but visually, as he redirects a shot of blue lightning meant to kill him.

The red and blue dragons also get one final appearance before the big showdown. Zuko finds that after joining the Avatar, his firebending is weaker, as it was once fueled by rage and anger and his drive was chasing the Avatar, which he has now lost. When Zuko and Aang go to the Sun Warriors to unlock the secrets of firebending, they must be judged by the two masters. Up until the moment of confrontation, neither Zuko nor Aang realize that “the masters” are two dragons, since the last dragons were thought to have been hunted to extinction by none other than the royal family.

When Zuko and Aang confront the dragons, they are judged for their worthiness. These two visual symbols, which have been haunting Zuko for the past season and a half, accept his change of heart and encircle Zuko and Aang in multicolored flames, colors Zuko has never seen and couldn’t even imagine. Zuko then says:

“I understand.”

This could be interpreted in a variety of ways, but mine is that Zuko still had doubts about whether or not he was doing the right thing until this moment (or else, wouldn’t his firebending still be working?). He wasn’t totally committed yet. When he sees so many colors dancing among the flames, the big “secret” he understands is harmony. His destiny is to bring harmony and balance back to the world, the red and blue dragons, the Avatar and the Fire Lord, working in tandem to accomplish it. He accepts this as his new drive and motivation, allowing him to firebend again.

By the time Zuko and Azula finally meet for their final showdown, the red/blue struggle within Zuko is long established and all but resolved. The only thing that remains is the externalization of the struggle: him, represented by red, vs. Azula, represented by blue. Zuko has accepted his change in destiny and aligned himself with the Avatar. Azula has not, and remains a representation of the royal family, of the status quo.

And then, we get the most visually striking fight in the whole series.

I really don’t know what else to tell you. This scene is so iconic because it’s been built up to with this color symbolism over the past two seasons. It’s satisfying to watch. It’s beautifully animated.

It ends with Azula getting one last shot of blue lightning, which up until now was believed to be an instant kill shot. The monarchy’s last ditch shot to bring Zuko down with it. But Zuko throws himself in front of Katara, taking it head on. It should have killed him, but Katara saves him. Azula is defeated, Zuko survives, and he lives to bring balance back to a world divided by war.

And when Zuko finally gets his own dragon, what color is it?

Red.

And there you have it, folks! There are some other scenes that could be color analyzed, but this is getting pretty long, so I’m going to end it here. Thanks for reading!

#avatar #atla #avatar the last airbender #zuko #azula #fire siblings #fire nation #atla meta

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adarkrainbow · 1 year

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The Perrault fairytales: Little Red Riding Hood

After looking at the most obscure of Perrault’s fairytales, let’s take a look at one of his most famous stories: Little Red Riding Hood.

It is the second of the “Stories and tales of the past”, right after “Sleeping Beauty”, of its original French name, “Le Petit Chaperon rouge”. And... before digging into the story, I want to make a little precision about what is a “chaperon”, the word English people translated as a “hood”, but which isn’t exactly that... The first of the two big dictionaries of the era (Furetière’s Dictionary) defines “chaperon” as: an old-fashioned headwear, as much for men as for women. For women, a chaperon was a velvet ribbon worn on their cap, and it was an indication of bourgeoisie”. The other big dictionary of the time, the Dictionary of the Academy, proposes the definition of: A ribbon of velvelt or silk that girls and women who were not part of the nobility often wore on their head up to quite recently - and women of the bourgeoisie were especially noted to wear chaperons.”

Quite fascinating isn’t it? Little Red Riding Hood should technically be “Little Red Head-Ribbon”. Heck not only is it not a “hood”, it is not even for “riding” as the English title suggests - it is not a travelling hood, but just an ornamental, pretty headwear. One more proof that the fairytales “everybody knows” aren’t truly known...

The story of Little Red Riding Hood is very short and simple, so it will be quite easy to sum up. There was once upon a time a young village girl, who was the prettiest of all children - her mother loved her dearly, and her grandmother even more. In fact, her grandmother loved her so much she had a red “chaperon” crafted for her to wear.

One day, as her mother had cooked “galettes”, she said to her daughter: “Go see if your grandmother is well, because I heard she was sick, bring her one galette and this little jar of butter. And so the little girl left to visit her grandmother, who lived in another village. [Note: “galette” is usually translated today as “pancakes” by English people, but a “galette” of at the time actually meant “a small cake cooked under the ashes, usually prepared when the bread is placed in the oven - galettes are usually cooked for children or for domestics.”]

While crossing the woods, she met the wolf who wanted to eat her but didn’t dare - there were wood-cutters nearby. So rather he asked the girl where she was heading, and the “poor girl, who didn’t know that it was dangerous to listen to wolves”, told him what she was doing and where she was going. The wolf asked her if the grandmother lived far, and the girl explained her grandmother lived “beyond the mill you see over there, it is the first house of the village”. The wolf said to the daughter that he also wanted to visit her grandmother, and proposed her a sort of race/game. He told the girl to go one road, while he would go another, “and we’ll see which one of us reaches her house first”. The wolf ran with all his might by the shorter path, while the little girl took the longest path while picking hazelnuts, running butterflies and picking up small flowers.

The wolf arrived at the house of the grandmother and knocked, pretending to be Little Red Riding Hood (he imitated her voice). The grandmother, who was bed-ridden because of her sickness, told the wolf a famous sentence - it is usually translated as “Lift up the latch and walk in”, but the actual sentence is one of the iconic phrases of French fairytales: “Tire la chevillette, la bobinette cherra”. It is a sentence about something being pulled by the visitor, “la chevillette”, and something falling because of that, “la bobinette”, but the exact nature of these two objects is actually unclear, since Perrault seems to have been referencing here the door-technology of humble houses in the 17th century. There have been various theories and interpretations, but the most common interpretation of the sentence is that it is a reference to the primitive form of lock of peasant houses - there was a wooden bar or plank blocking the door that could fall if a visitor pulled on a small rod. What reinforces the use of this type of primitive lock here is the fact that, while this system couldn’t prevent thieves or burglars from entering the house, it was originally created to prevent wild animals from coming in.

The wolf enters and devours extremely fast he old woman “because he hadn’t eaten in three days”. He then closed the door, and snuck into the grandmother’s bed, hiding under the blanket (the part of the wolf putting on the grandmother’s clothes isn’t described when he hides in the bed, but when Little Red sees the wolf he is in the grandmother’s nightgown, so he must have slipped in the clothes without Perrault evoking it) When Little Red Riding Hood arrives she knocks on the door, but the wolf forgets to change his voice for his first sentence. The little girl is frightened by this deep voice, but upon hearing a softer more feminine voice afterward, she blames the tone-change on her grandmother’s sickness. She enters. The wolf tells the girl to put the galette and jar of butter aside, and climb in the bed with “her”. The girl obeys, and follows the famous dialogue.

“My grandmother, what big arms you have!” “It is to better embrace you, my girl.”

“My grandmother, what big legs you have?” “It is to better run my child.”

“My grandmother, what big ears you have?” “It is to better listen my child.”

“My grandmother, what big eyes you have?” “It is to better see, my child.”

“My grandmother, what big teeth you have?” “It is to eat you.”

And the wicked wolf ate the little girl.

The end.

Despite the story being so small, there is a LOT to unpack here.

This tale is, of course, a warning tale. It is literaly the story of what happens when a little girl takes all the wrong steps and does all the wrong things. She speaks to the wolf, despite the narrator clearly painting this as something wrong that should never be done. She accepts the wolf’s game, and despite being in a race, she merely loses time doing all sorts of childish things in the wood. When she arrives at the house, she seems to have forgotten all about the wolf. When she hears the big voice coming from the house, she thinks her mother just has “a cold”, and as she is “surprised” by her grandmothe’s appearance in the bed, all she can do is ask, question by question, why she looks so different... We have a clueless, careless, naive little girl, bordering on stupidity, who literaly walks in the mouth of the wolf.

But despite this, too many people misunderstood Perrault as somehow “punishing” the little girl with this very dark version where Little Red Riding Hood is just eaten and her grandmother too, and this is the end. Actually, when you read the story, you realize the narrative voice takes the girl’s side and is saddened by this whole adventure - the wolf is said to be “wicked” when he devours the girl, and when she talks to the wolf the narrator points out that “the poor girl didn’t know one should never listen to wolves”. In fact, in this very sentence lies the hidden message: this is a warning tale as much for children as for their parents - it is the story of a girl who was “badly raised”, since she visibly was never taught by her mother or grandmother that she shouldn’t chat with wolves in the woods. The very opening sentences describes how much her mother and grandmother loved Little Red Riding Hood - and to describe this, Perrault uses the term “elles étaient folles d’elle”. It is a figure of speech meaning “they were crazy about her” - but in this expression, there is “crazy”. There is the idea that they had a form of chaotic, crazy love for their child, which led them to spoil her: they give her a pretty headwear rather than teaching her about the dangers of the woods. Perrault here clearly condemns the mother and grandmother here, for which the little girl has to suffer. Little Red Riding Hood didn’t break “a rule” per se, since she is ignorant and innocent from beginning to end - it is for her mother/grandmother’s flaws that she has to suffer.

Beyond this first, superficial message of “don’t spoil your kids and teach them the dangers of life instead of trying to make them look pretty”, there is another message, more serious, quite deeper, but just as obvious for those that read the fairytale. The wolf here is a frightening figure because he is a wild beast of the woods and a devourer seeking to eat the human child - but he is also a man, or at least a beat with man-like traits enough to bring to mind modern werewolves. We have here a wolf that talks like a man, that can open and close doors, that can put on human clothes - this disturbing entity breaks all the laws and limits of nature and civilization (the beast becomes human, the wilderness enters in the home, the male becomes female, the young child is devoured...), but also bears in it uncomfortable and frightening sexual undertones.

Because Little Red Riding Hood is a sexual tale, and there is no denying it. If the message was unclear, Perrault explains it in the Morality that follows the tale. To sum it up, it says: “We see here that young children, especially young girls, beautiful and kind, often bring themselves troubles by listening to anybody, and it is thus not surprising to see so many of them eaten by the wolf. I say the wolf, because all the wolves are not of the same kind : Some are courteous and silent, without bitterness and without rage, they are sweet, compliant and friendly, and they follow young ladies, to their homes and to their beds. But alas! Who doesn’t know that these sweet wolves are the most dangerous of them all?”. With this morality, we clearly see the allegory Perrault places in this tale: it is a sexual tale, where the wolf represents the seducer, the man who gains access to the house and the bedrooms of women by sweet words and kindness, but deep down are dangerous, devouring beasts who will destroy the girls that put their trust in them.

And this sexual undertone, beyond the morality and the character of the wolf, can also actually be found in the “little red hood” worn by the girl - aka the “chaperon”. Now, you might recognize the French word “chaperon” in the English word “chaperone” and it is no coincidence: while literaly, “chaperon” was a ribbon to wear on the head, figuratively it was a “chaperone”, as a person. “But then, if she had a chaperone, why wasn’t the girl protected from the sexual-wolf?” you might ask. And here is the trick: Perrault fairytales are filled with games, puns and wordplays on the expressions of the time. Now, the chaperone - which was the older woman who was in charge of watching over and protecting younger girls - was actually called “un grand chaperon”, “a big chaperon, a great chaperon”. But here, what is the little girl sent alone in the woods with? A “little chaperon”. And we find here back the “sins of the grandmother” or “sins of the mother” - as the grandmother preferred to give her granddaughter a “little chaperon”, a mere pretty ornament, a shining red accessory, rather than giving her a “grand chaperon”, aka a chaperone, an older figure that would watch over and protect her, aka the advices much needed in life such as “do not speak to wolves that try to chat in the woods.”

This wordplay becomes extremely relevant when one notes that, in all the versions of the tale that seem to predate Perrault’s, there is no mention of the “red chaperon”. It only came forward with Perrault’s version, and was thus very clearly his invention. The artificial nature of this key element, that gives its name to the story, points out very obviously to its wordplay-nature.

#little red riding hood #charles perrault #perrault fairytales #french fairytales #fairy tales #analysis #fairytales #the big bad wolf #red riding hood

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plastikun · 1 year

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— BABY, ITS HALLOWEEN, THE QUARRY

[ the quarry + reader ]

halloween is coming up! what is everyone going as and what are they doing this fine hallows eve? including: emma, abi, nick, jacob, ryan, dylan, and kaitlyn

notes: not proofread bc i’m lazy and also this is the shittiest thing i’ve written in a while sorry 😭

Emma has pre-recorded something halloween-y to upload on the 31st so she can go out and party but still keep her fans happy! She’s going as Sidney Prescott, the final girl of Scream, and has convinced you to match costumes with her! Wether you’re another slasher victim or the slasher themselves is up to you, just know that she’ll be taking as many photos as she possibly can <3 She’s going to have a cute halloween picture of the two of you as her wallpaper for the next 5 months so make sure you look good…

Abigail isn’t a party person, but if that’s your thing she’ll go along with it— just not for too long. When you’ve gotten tired of partying (if you do so at all) she’ll be waiting at home for you. But don’t worry! She’s not mad, after all, everyone enjoys some alone time! She’ll snuggle into you for some movie time and probably fall asleep halfway through lol. She isn’t one for full costumes for halloween, but she’s definitely going to put some effort into some cute but spooky makeup for the day like bat-wing eyeliner or spiderwebs on her cheeks! <3

Nick is probably out partying and is going as something dumb and lazy like “myself, but with a mustache!” because he didn’t even realize it was halloween until the day of said party. If you’re not a party person though, he’s willing to give that up and stay home with you :)

With his missing hand, Dylan would make a perfect Ash Williams, which is coincidentally his favourite horror movie character (definitely not because 80s Bruce Campbell is hot…), so get ready to have an Evil Dead marathon! It’s definitely happening. He’s also 100% handing out candy to kids and complimenting their choice of costumes, he’s very cute like that ;)

Ryan absolutely LOVES halloween, and has made a movie lineup for the two of you 2 weeks in advance… He’s going to dress up as someone from an old horror movie that has an iconic yet subtle outfit, like one of the characters from The Blair Witch Project or someone from a Saw movie (which are a couple of his halloween favourites :)) He’s definitely going to talk through most of the movies, telling you random shit about them and picking apart plot holes but it’ll be fun anyways.

Although he loves attention, believe it or not, Jacob isn’t a fan of parties, he also isn’t a fan of horror, so picking out a fun halloween activity that both of you will enjoy is going to be a struggle. If you’re set on watching horror for halloween night, he’s going to be clinging to your arm the whole time and hiding under a blanket (he’s definitely cute like this though so no complaints) please reassure him and give him plenty of kisses when you’re going to go to sleep though because he’s gonna be scared shitless

Kait isn’t a huge halloween person, but she’s still going to use it as an excuse to dress up as a cute vampire or something lmao. Other than that, she’s going to work like regular, spending her evening like usual and so on. If you’re a halloween person though, she’s willing to give up a normal day to do what you want! You want to go party? Sure! You want to stay home and

#the quarry #the quarry headcanons #the quarry hcs #emma mountebank x reader #emma mountebank #abigail blyg x reader #abigail blyg #nick furcillo x reader #nick furcillo #jacob custos #jacob custos x reader #kaitlyn ka x reader #kaitlyn ka #dylan lenivy x reader #dylan lenivy #ryan ezrahler #ryan ezrahler x reader

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hayley-mikaelsons · 5 months

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In the source link, you’ll find 241 HQ textless all under 5MB 268x151 gifs of Yang Zi as Jin Mi in 1x04 of Ashes Of Love. These gifs were ALL made by me. I don’t mind if you use them in crackships or edit them into icons as long as you credit/tag me. But DO NOT put these into other gif hunts or repost them into gif sets! DO NOT use my gifs to roleplay characters that are minors or in smut threads. DO NOT use my gifs to roleplay real life people/celebrities, or in any taboo situations! If any clarification is needed, please feel free to ask! Please like or reblog if you find this helpful and don’t claim them as your own! If you’re a fan of my work and have a few dollars to spare, please consider buying me a coffee! (paypal available upon request)

Credits: PSDs: @magicalbewitchedbynight & myself TASKS WEEKLY: #040 - China, #008 - Historical/Period Drama ETHNICITY: Chinese, please cast her accordingly! TRIGGER WARNINGS: Sleeping, water, fire, stuck in furniture. FEATURING: Deng Lun, Wang Yifei/Faye Wang, miscellaneous cast members. Tag List: @malafvma @supportcontentcreators @tasksweekly

#yang zi gif pack #yang zi gif hunt #yang zi #gif pack #gif hunt #rph #rpc #dearindies #thaywrites #usermina #userkass #userdevon #userduckie #supportcontentcreators #the psds I used aren't mine obviously!#except the one's that are lol #tailored for me

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froshele · 7 months

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everyone loves little ash for being an absolute baby mazik and uriel for its big stupid puppy eyed round vacant hasidic face, and some people even choose to remember that there are characters other than the good omens yaoi such as reyzl who is the only depiction of a vaguely hasidic girl i have ever read who feels like she could be a real person, but flipping through #when the angels left the old country it's extremely obvious that absolutely everyone is sleeping on the Absolute Vibes of Mrs Shulman.

":) im going to eat everyone starting with you" iconic. the fury inside little old jewish ladies finally getting the representation they deserve through a caliginous clot in the shape of a gremlin with huggy wuggy teeth who is too dead to give any fucks anymore but not too dead to want to use this to cause problems yet

#when the angels left the old country

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oh-austin · 2 years

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halle bailey fc !

liked by ynfan1 and 14,828 others

deuxmoi BREAKING NEWS: Actress and singer, Y/N L/N, is reported to be portraying Ariel in Disney’s live-action remake of The Little Mermaid and we’re HERE for it!🧜🏽‍♀️❤️

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ynfan3 GET IT MAMA

user4 🧜🏽‍♀️🧜🏽‍♀️🧜🏽‍♀️🧜🏽‍♀️🧜🏽‍♀️ queen shit!!!!!!!!

user5 this.. isn’t it

ynfan6 umm why?

user7 she doesn’t really look like ariel..

user8 if you had a brain you would realise that ariels ethnicity has NOTHING to do with the original storyline- there isn’t anything wrong with casting a woman of colour as ariel, it doesn’t change anything

ynfan10 LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK

ynfan11 the ‘i don’t see colour people’ have switched up real fast. Y/N will be phenomenal in this film ❤️

user12 sad really that people are so disgusting- Y/N is amazing and deserves this role

ynfan13 she’s gonna be so good I can’t wait 🥹🥹

ynfan14 I feel like a proud mum or smth

user16 she’s actually so stunning wtf

ynfan17 literally the prettiest woman on this planet

ynfan19 so happy Y/N is getting the recognition she deserves in films now, she’s so amazing

liked by austinbutler and 26,827 others

yourinstagram feeling incredibly blessed to be apart of the Disney family, thank you to those of you who have been so welcoming to me ❤️ I hope to make all little princesses around the world proud with this film

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ynfan21 TELL EM BABY

ynfan23 she’s so perfect it’s unfair

daveeddiggs THE QUEEN OF THE SEA!!! It’s a pleasure to know you

ynfan24 🥹🥹🥹🥹😭

ynfan26 daveed loves her ❤️❤️

ynfan27 Y/N sharing the screen with Melissa McCarthy????? Iconic

ynfan28 I actually can’t wait for them to work together

ynfan31 you’re so special to girls around the world, be proud of yourself Y/N

austinbutler my ariel ❤️ so proud of you

yourinstagram I love you unconditionally

ynfan32 austin and y/n interactions are what I live for

ynfan33 he’s such a supportive boyfriend wtf 🥺

ynfan35 she’s actually going to make such an amazing Ariel wtf!!!

liked by ashleytisdale, annasophiarobb and 47,224 others

austinbutler ❤️

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austinfan37 austins back on his publicly loving y/n shit

austinfan38 the only time austin is active is when he’s praising y/n and i love it so much

ashleytisdale a force to be reckoned with 😌

yourinstagram I love you so much ash

ynfan40 can just imagine austin constantly taking pics of y/n whenever he can

austinfan41 he so does 😭😭

austinfan43 constantly taking candids of her!! I can see it now

ynfan44 especially on his film cameras, mans has rolls and rolls of film that are just her

austinbutler liked this comment !

annasophiarobb YOURE LITERALLY A REAL LIFE PRINCESS Y/N!! SO GORGEOUS ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

yourinstagram 🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️

yourinstagram my best friend taking pictures of me again

austinbutler forever

austinfan47 actually sleeping on the highway tonight and it’s THEIR FAULT

liked by austinfan50 and 2372 others

austinupdates Austin’s IG stories today as his longtime girlfriend Y/N L/N attended (and won an award at) the Power of Young Hollywood Awards this evening!

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austinfan51 aus is down so bad for her

austinfan54 he really is 😭😭

ynfan55 she’s so gorgeous

ynfan57 making history for young girls all over the globe 🌎 💙 she deserves this award

austinfan59 austin is obsessed

ynfan60 perfect husband material

ynfan62 waiting for him to propose 💍💍

austinfan64 cannot wait for him to go into promo mode when the little mermaid comes out, he’s gonna go feral for her

ynfan65 Y/N will be the exact same in Oscar’s season

austinfan68 if Austin doesn’t win best actor I feel like Y/N will pull a will smith

ynfan70 oh 100%. she’s Austin’s biggest fan and she knows it. Y/N gonna riot if he doesn’t win

austinfan72 Austin’s gonna have to hold her back as she goes to swing at the academy ☺️☺️

austinfan73 as she should tbh

#ig Halle fc #austin butler #austin butler imagine #austin butler one shot #austin butler x reader #austin butler drabble #austin butler fluff #elvis 2022 #social media au #austin butler fake instagram

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cameronthecryptid · 3 months

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Hey. As some of you may remember I did a tournament of iconic trios and made polls to see who was the best. Well, I want to do it again just for fun. So along with announcing it ahead of time I also want the list of competitors to be larger. I have a total of 23 right now but I want to try an go bigger so I will say my list and if you want a trio to be added then just comment it and I'll try to add them.

The only criteria is that they must be recognized as a trio and only a trio by most or even their official series. Trios from the same series and franchise are allowed but I will need to consider them first. And they must be fictional With that being said.

Feel free to reblog to spread the word and possibly have more be added.

The list holds: (below the cut)

Marc, Steven, & Jake (Moon Knight)

Alvin, Simon, & Theodore (Alvin and the Chipmunks)

Sam, Sebastian, Abigail (Stardew Valley)

Hex Girls (Scooby-Doo)

The Plastics (Mean Girls)

The Heathers (Heathers)

Sam, Dean, Castiel (SuperNatural)

Ed, Edd, & Eddy (Ed, Edd, n Eddy)

Huey, Dewey, & Louie (Duck Tales)

Ash, Brock, & Misty (Pokémon)

Flora, Fauna, & Merryweather (Sleeping Beauty)

Blossom, Bubbles, & Buttercup (The Power Puff Girls)

The Dazzlings (MLP: Equestra Girls)

Yakko, Wakko, Dot (Animaniacs)

Charlie’s Angels (Charlie’s Angels)

Shrek, Donkey, & Puss (Shrek Franchise)

Bella, Edward, & Jacob (Twilight)

Peach, Daisy, & Rosalina (Mario Franchise)

Shock, Lock, & Barrel (Nightmare Before Christmas)

Miku, Teto, Neru (Triple Baka)

Jessie, James, Meowth (Pokémon)

Yao, Ling and Chien-Po (Mulan)

Mandy, Billy, & Grim (The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy)

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atinytokki · 4 months

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Mechanosis

Chapter 1: 구름 (cloud)

구름

cloud

The future looked different through a cracked glass pane. Only two people in the entirety of Gyeongseong Station knew there was a crack on the inside pane of the seven metre clock face that adorned the iconic tower, and Hongjoong was one of them.

He spent most nights alone with a view of the city far below, twinkling lights almost seeming magical through the blanket of haze that coated everything east of Incheon. And most nights, he knew better than to dream.

The past, too, had a strange new colour streaked across it, and the filter of glass clock face windows, like thin hanji mulberry paper, revealed things Hongjoong hadn’t seen five years ago. Things he couldn’t have known.

Accompanied by the constant whirring and clicking of gears, he watched rain trail down the glass with his single working eye, following a drop and tracing it with his finger until it slid off the clock face and out of view.

He had put his tinkering away an hour ago, but too many things were keeping him awake. The constant thoughts, plans, and anxiety. The rain. San’s coughing.

The pair of them worked sunrise to sunset in the Namsan metal factory every day, retreating for the night to their secret hideaway in the clock tower, and these late hours were the only moments he could steal for himself.

If Hongjoong turned to look out the eastern facing windows in the tower, he’d see the factory there; carved into the side of the mountain and constantly belching a steady stream of smoke into the surrounding forest.

It was good money— as good as pay could be these days— but it was also the culprit of San’s cough. Both of them knew it.

For now, it was mercifully raining. In a matter of weeks, it would be snowing. And when the snows came, their days would be difficult again. San always grew sicker when winter arrived.

Five years ago, Hongjoong would’ve looked forward to the snow, and the way it gathered on bare tree branches outside in his courtyard in perfect little snow walls that stood upright until he ran a mittened hand across their surface and knocked them down. Now, the snow should be a gift— freedom from the curse of ash that had befallen Hanseong— but all it did was signal the upcoming darkness and the increased chance of death.

He closed his eyes, the burned right one with more difficulty, and inhaled deeply before his thoughts could spiral, pulling his legs close to his chest. The bottom edges of each pant leg of his baji were fraying, so he picked at them mindlessly and waited for exhaustion to set in.

A mumble sounded from the direction of the sleeping mats, set in the middle of the uppermost terrace with the best view below to catch any intruder who should attempt to sneak up the stairs.

San’s sleep-talking no doubt.

“Come to bed.”

Hongjoong turned his head to the left to see him. So, the younger man was coherent after all.

He was sitting up with the blanket draped over him, hair ruffled from tossing and turning.

Hongjoong hesitated and it brought a childish pout to San’s face.

“Please? I want to snuggle.”

Watching him bat his eyelashes, Hongjoong would never have guessed San had spent nearly all of his nineteen years growing up on the streets, wondering where the next meal would come from and inventing creative ways to get by on his own.

Even around a complete stranger, his softness and innocence had always remained.

Hongjoong remembered the day he met him, on a rainy night at Mount Inwang when he opened his single eye to see the ceiling of a shrine room.

A shaman had appeared above him weeks before and softly explained that he was the sole survivor of the fire, that he had been brought to the temple in secret to hide from the new authorities, that his eye was bandaged but would likely not heal, and that he was free to go where he pleased or remain in Suseongdong Valley if he wished.

The news had been beyond devastating. His entire life had burned down around him and he had no desire to go on. He had lost everything.

The shaman’s kindness never wavered, even when he would not rise from his mat on the floor to thank her. Others came and went, their shadows moving across the floor, turning like the sun through each long and lonely day. Sometimes the surrounding sleeping mats filled with other patients, more and more growing sickly as the chill of winter moved through the mountain peaks.

“I’ve brought you supper,” a voice broke into his spiralling thoughts that evening at the moment when the smell of samgyetang reached him. “You have a neighbour for tonight, his name is San.” It was one of the monks informing Hongjoong, as if he would care, and though he didn’t turn his head to see, the noise of a boy being guided to the mat next to his went on for a few minutes after.

Some time went by in silence. How much time, Hongjoong didn’t know, but night had fallen at least an hour ago and after dozing, he was hungry, despite himself.

Turning his head all the way to the right so he could see through his left eye, he was met with the shocked face of his neighbour, cheeks full of Hongjoong’s food.

“O-Oh!” The boy choked out, hurriedly swallowing and placing the bowl back on the floor. “I didn’t realise you were awake. Your eye bandage…”

When Hongjoong didn’t reply, the boy— San— shamelessly picked up the food again before hesitating.

“You weren’t planning on eating this, right?”

Taken aback, Hongjoong blinked a few times before shaking his head in agreement. It didn’t matter if his stomach was grumbling now, he had lost his chance.

“It’s good!” The boy exclaimed through another bite as he spooned the last vegetables into his mouth, much louder than he should be considering the late hour and the other sleeping patients. “Even though it’s cold.”

With that, he flashed a dimpled smile, downed the last of the broth and set the bowl back on the floor before standing from his bed and heading for the exit.

“Wh—” Hoarse from disuse, Hongjoong’s voice didn’t reach the patient, so he sat up and called more loudly, head spinning from the sudden adjustment, and tried to recall the name, “San? San!”

The mountain, who he met in the valley.

Surprised, the boy turned, bright eyes landing on Hongjoong’s form, and cocked his head to the side like a cat. “That’s me. What is it?”

“You…” Hongjoong sighed and cleared his throat, and San moved closer to hear what he had to say. “You’re leaving already? Are you even sick or did just you come for the food?”

At this observation, San smirked and gave a half shrug before continuing on his way.

Hongjoong didn’t see him again until two days later.

Again, the boy was given the sleeping mat next to his, and again he waited until Hongjoong drifted to sleep to eat both his own meal and the food designated for Hongjoong as if it belonged to him.

“Come on, you should eat some of this,” San tutted at him, the sound of him clicking his tongue just barely audible over the wind that whipped through Suseongdong. It was the seventh night now that he had appeared and helped himself to the shamans’ cooking, occasionally starting conversations that rarely went anywhere, as if determined to heal Hongjoong with his words even while he took his food every evening. “Look at you, you’re wasting away. Why do you refuse to eat? Do you think it will bring back whatever it is you lost?”

Biting his lip anxiously, Hongjoong merely shook his head.

He was still in mourning. And he had no appetite.

A growling stomach gave him away and, frustrated, he couldn’t stop a tear from escaping.

San noticed and placed down the bowl, regarding him seriously with no trace of his usual teasing.

“Would you like a hug?”

Sighing through his nose and squeezing his eye shut, Hongjoong tried to say no, but San was too fast and it only took a moment for him to be encased in his arms, squeezed gently but reassuringly, and then released again so the other boy could finish his kimchi.

It felt… nice.

And it was the sign he needed that life would go on, whether he wanted it to at the moment or not.

The season continued on, with snows blowing in from the west, and the mysterious boy continued his occasional visits.

Hongjoong always let him eat the second bowl or dip into to his banchan, because he knew San’s hunger must be severe for him to take food from another. He needed it more than Hongjoong did, when he could survive off of luncheon and this single meal was likely the only one of the day— or week— for San.

And, as expected, San always cleaned the plate.

The day he didn’t, Hongjoong knew something was wrong.

“You’re sick this time, aren’t you?” He whispered.

He didn’t lay on his back anymore, facing the patterned ceiling and letting tears wind down the sides of his cheeks. Instead, he faced San’s bed, watching him closely with his left eye.

San frowned from where he sat by Hongjoong’s mat, cross-legged.

“I do get sick, but this—”

Interrupted by his own cough, the harsh fit went on for a moment before he nodded, fully laying on his mat this time, turned in Hongjoong’s direction.

“This is worse than usual. I think it’s that factory they’re building next to my hideout.”

“Wh-What?” Hongjoong was surprised to hear those words. A factory so close to the city was strange, when most large mills were located in the countryside.

Unless…

“It’s this new steam-powered factory,” San explained slowly in his rasp, as if it was obvious and Hongjoong should’ve known despite not leaving the shrine in weeks. “They’re popping up all over Hanseong, burning ore to heat water and run the steam through this… machinery. That’s what they call it.”

Hongjoong’s head was reeling. It was as if the world had changed overnight. In a matter of weeks, things he had only seen on paper by candlelight existed. And they were multiplying.

“How?”

“A Mr. Shin is responsible, Minister of Technological Advancement he calls himself,” San sniffed in derision, not appearing to like the man, or at least what he knew of him. “The very night he was appointed, he had the plans set in motion, workers conscripted, and new authorities established. It’s all his design.”

“No, it isn’t.”

The words escaped Hongjoong so quickly, even he was surprised.

But it was true.

He had been there when the concept of steam-powered machinery was dreamt up in a crowded kitchen while the smoke trailed up to the sky on a starry summer’s night years ago. He knew whose design it was first scribbled on corners of worn parchment, ink staining the clothes and hands of the one who made it.

San was staring at him like he’d grown a second head, and patiently waiting for the right moment to ask a question he must have been meaning to ask for a long time.

“What’s your name?”

“Huh?”

“Your name,” San whispered urgently. “What is it? Who are you?”

He seemed sincere, and the cavernous pit of loneliness inside made Hongjoong yearn for companionship, but his name was all he had left now.

Could he really give it up so easily?

“I—” Hongjoong’s mouth ran dry. He simply needed to know San’s intentions first.

“I’ve decided I like you,” San supplied soon enough. “You’re kindhearted, and I want to keep you.”

Hongjoong furrowed his brows. “But I haven’t done anything.”

“Exactly,” San smiled sweetly but with some sadness under those innocent dimples. “You let me take without question. Most others would’ve accused me of stealing.”

So San had interpreted his indifference as kindness.

“You don’t want me,” Hongjoong shook his head, trying his best to sound sure of himself. “I have nothing else to give you.”

He knew he was about to give up the last thing he did have, he could feel himself losing the inner battle.

“I just want your name for now,” San assured him softly. “And then let me give you something for a change.”

He said it was just a name, but the truth was that it was so much more. What he had experienced and what San was experiencing were both tied up in that identity and to give it away would not help San. In fact, it may condemn him.

Eyes watering embarrassingly, the half-blinded boy squirmed in place before giving up.

“I’m Kim Hongjoong. I’m fifteen years old. I’m here because the Ministry of Technological Advancement set a fire two months ago that killed my parents and burned my eye. I know it was them because it was my family who created those designs— the ones for the machines— and now that the Ministry murdered the creators and stole the research, they perverted it. In a way, due to my inability to stop them, I am the one responsible for your sickness, San.” He paused to let the truth sink in.

Hongjoong could scarcely believe it himself, but this was the new world he’d woken up to.

“Are you sure you still want me?”

___

San had not hesitated even a moment, and from that day on, the two were brothers.

A tower was under construction at Gyeongseong Station, and quickly adorned with a massive clock face, run on the interlocking mechanism conceptualised by Hongjoong’s own mother and based on the tiny test models Hongjoong’s father had constructed himself.

It was San’s hiding place when he didn’t trek up the mountain to receive medicine at the shrine. He had always been a poor orphan for as long as he could remember, but the cost of living was unbearable now, and so he taught himself how to escape the notice of the station guards, and then taught Hongjoong in turn.

They lived there together now, five years later, and worked at the nearby factory begrudgingly, knowing there were very few options to get by, no matter how much former education Hongjoong had. Machinery was the way of the world now, and if they didn’t offer themselves up to be cogs in the machine, they’d end up playing that role one way or another.

Hongjoong had his habits, San admitted, such as getting in trouble at the factory for working too slowly and staying up late at night to tinker with the strange metal pieces he sourced from who knows where, but he was already dear to San. San’s heart had made the decision for him.

And he was never more sure of his decision than during times like these, when he lay coughing until blood came up in crimson specks on his handkerchief, and the pain in his chest kept him from sleeping.

Hongjoong acquiesced to San’s pleas for cuddles, and pulled the younger boy close with the hopes of lulling him to sleep. Instead, both lay awake for a while longer, unable to escape from the crossroads they knew they were approaching the sicker San became.

“The factory hurts you,” Hongjoong sighed into San’s hair.

San didn’t answer. Tears pricked at his eyes, watering from the force of his cough and partially from the frustration.

“I don’t want you to work there anymore,” Hongjoong told him softly. He’d said as much many times before, but both of them knew there was no turning away from the factory. Not in these times.

Again, San remained silent, shaking his head resolutely but remaining securely tucked in between Hongjoong’s arms.

“Please, San,” Hongjoong whined. San had never heard him beg like this before. “You’re scaring me.”

“Hyung, you—” a coughing fit interrupted him, and the force of his cough jolted them both. Hongjoong clung on anyway. “You know I can’t quit. It’s good money.”

“But you can find somewhere better to work,” Hongjoong insisted immediately, voice dripping with desperation. No matter how many times he thought it through, the situation was unbearable. “And if the money’s so good, I can pick up extra shifts instead since I won’t be busy nursing you back to health every winter.”

But it ended the way it always did. Ultimately, San persevered as he always had.

“No.” It came out harsher than he intended it to. “I’m going and there’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

Hongjoong went quiet for just long enough that San could tell he was angry.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered, rubbing Hongjoong’s arm appreciatively. “Please, hyung, I really am. I love you.”

“Don’t say that.”

Hongjoong’s voice was softly admonishing.

A pout found San’s face again. “Why not?”

He used the words all the time, relishing in the opportunity to direct them at someone after all those years alone.

The silence stretched on between them and San tilted his head up to see tears in his hyung’s eye.

“You love too easily,” he finally answered, so quietly that San almost missed it.

He bristled at the accusation, regardless of how gently it had been delivered.

“But I mean it, Hongjoong,” San insisted, shifting to encourage the older boy to look at him. He spoke with as much conviction as he could despite the stabs of pain in his throat with every word he said. “I love you and I’m not leaving you. So you can’t leave me either.”

Hongjoong didn’t respond, but San knew he had heard him from the way he squeezed his eye shut. The right one was still covered in bandages. Whether he ever took them off to inspect the burned eye or not, San didn’t know.

San had seen from the beginning that Hongjoong didn’t think himself worthy of a second chance at family.

But family was the one thing San never had yet truly wanted. He needed to do everything in his power to secure a family for himself, one he truly loved regardless of their flaws.

“Did someone leave you behind?” He found himself conjecturing aloud. “Is that why…”

San’s words trailed off but his question hung in the air.

Hongjoong knew what he meant to ask.

Is that why you’re like this?

Another silence settled over them, not uncomfortable this time. San had tried and failed to wheedle the details out many times, but he understood the defences Hongjoong kept around his story.

He had the same walls around his own, no matter how talkative he could be about other things.

Finally, Hongjoong opened his mouth, closed it again, and then acquiesced and released a small key to the past.

“I had a brother.”

San stared at him for a moment, directly into his eye, before asking for clarification.

“Had?”

“He got out before the fire.”

San could feel Hongjoong’s shrug as it shifted their position on the floor mat. “I think my parents knew what was coming— there were whispers. They gave him the key to some of their designs and got him out of the country. I never saw him again. And it was all for naught, because the Ministry of Technological Advancement got hold of the plans anyway.”

Stunned, San worked through the information inside his own head for a moment.

“You think he’s alive?”

“I don’t know,” Hongjoong whispered. “I hope so… but he’s never returned for me. Perhaps he thinks I died in the fire, too.”

Suddenly it all made sense to San and he needed to gulp back tears at the memory it sparked inside him. He understood the fear of abandonment. He knew abandonment all too well.

“Leaving me before I leave you won’t make things any better,” San reminded him fiercely. They both knew that whether he said so or not, Hongjoong had grown attached.

That was what San was counting on.

“And besides, I’m not leaving you anyway.”

___

The wind that rustled bamboo leaves was colder than it had been last week.

Seonghwa could see the stalks swaying in the breeze from his table, and hurried to close the window and warm himself with some soybean jochi stew.

Most days, he got what he came to Ahopsan forest for; peace, quiet, and stillness.

But today the wind blew his wooden shutters open again and again, until he fetched his dopo and went outside to reinforce the latch.

The shadows on the surrounding forest floor came and went with the flickering light as it filtered through the canopy. Two layers of clouds blew quickly overhead, large puffy cumulus clouds with dark grey undersides, indicating a growing storm, and the wispy remnants of smog from Busan’s factories encroaching on his territory.

Its shape was always changing, morphing with every twist and turn as it was pushed onwards, pushed like the rest of Joseon when progress drove people away from their lives.

People like Seonghwa.

He had run as far as he was able, and still the smoke of the city chased him and interrupted his peace.

It wouldn’t be long before he needed to flee yet again.

Washing the dishes with a close watch on the sky, Seonghwa almost didn’t notice the footsteps leading up to his door.

Jolted from his reverie, he instinctively grabbed the crossbow by the entryway before bracing himself against the door, peeking through a gap in the paper cover to see who was calling in such a remote place at an hour like this.

“Hyung, it’s me,” Yeosang’s voice resonated deeply but with a light tone to it, and Seonghwa released his weapon and opened the door, shoulders still tense.

The two need not exchange words, and together they ventured into the main room and settled on the floor. Seonghwa poured his guest some tea and merely stared at his own, too anxious about the report he was waiting for to actually drink any.

“Will he get us out?”

Finally he couldn’t keep his anticipation inside anymore.

Yeosang snorted into his tea before composing himself and lowering the cup. “Seonghwa, I haven’t even spoken to him yet.”

“Right, right,” Seonghwa trailed off, wiping sweaty hands on his baji. “But you observed him these past few days?”

Yeosang rooted around in his bag for a moment before procuring a paper. “I drew this sketch when he visited the apothecary shop earlier in the week.”

Seonghwa took it promptly with both hands and gave the drawing a careful once over.

Jeong Yunho.

His cheekbones and nose were wide and striking, his mouth naturally rested in a smile, and his eyes were kind even if his face seemed tense. The clothes Yeosang had drawn him in were undoubtedly that of the yangban.

He was the son of Joseon’s foremost steam engine railway entrepreneur, and just so happened to do detective work.

Ever since he and Seonghwa had left their posts with the government, it was Yeosang’s job while he worked undercover in Hanseong to connect powerful people like Yunho to causes that weren’t exactly supported by the Ministry of Technological Advancement.

Seonghwa’s escape from Joseon was one of them.

The Jeong family were known supporters of the Ministry’s new order, but Yeosang was confident this Yunho would willingly help them if approached anyway.

“And there’s something else important,” Yeosang pulled his attention away from the illustration and related his latest report. “He came in again yesterday and brought another man with him. I recognised him from the festivals I’ve been tailing Yunho at. He’s one of the Jeong family servants— or, he was. He walks with Yunho-ssi now… as an equal.”

Seonghwa sat back slowly, deep in thought.

This was unprecedented.

That a rich nobleman would allow his servant the dress and status of a fellow noble wasn’t only unheard of, it was laughable. It was fantasy.

But if this Yunho diverged so sharply from his family’s views on servitude, there was a high chance he diverged from their views on the Ministry as well.

And that was the kind of person Seonghwa needed.

“How soon can you approach him?”

Yeosang went for another sip of tea while he thought things through.

“It wouldn’t be wise to arrange a meeting. He’s watched very closely by his father and the Ministry. Those moments in the apothecary shop are the only ones I have.”

“You must speak with him, Yeosang. If the smog has reached the forest, the machines won’t be far behind. We have to get out before they hunt us down.”

He knew he sounded desperate, but Seonghwa couldn’t help himself. If he relaxed, even for a moment, he could find himself trapped under the Ministry’s again, run over by the very steam-powered train engines he had planned and met with manufacturers for.

Biting his lip and avoiding Seonghwa’s eyes, Yeosang carefully voiced his reservations.

“Hyung, I don’t know.”

Seonghwa couldn’t help but frown. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

This was a matter of life and death, after all.

“I don’t think I should come with you,” Yeosang sighed, tension in his forehead and worry in his eyes. “There’s still work to be done here, others to help escape.”

The regret in his voice tugged at Seonghwa’s heartstrings.

He wasn’t attached, he told himself. No, he wasn’t bound to Yeosang despite fleeing the Ministry together and he wasn’t lonely in his tiny cabin while he waited for a boat ride away from this country.

But no matter how much he repeated it to himself, he knew in his heart that he couldn’t leave if Yeosang was staying.

“Oh.”

Suddenly his mouth was dry.

“Well, what do you think you’ll do here?”

An easy smile grew on Yeosang’s face, and Seonghwa found himself releasing his breath at the sight of it.

“I already see what’s happening throughout Hanseong from the apothecary shop,” he pointed out, chattering away like he only did when it was a subject he cared about immensely. “And it would be an excellent outpost to hide and then transport others who may be hunted by the new authorities for labor violations or association with the underground.”

“You’re saying… you want to become part of the underground yourself?” Seonghwa followed the logic to its natural conclusion.

Ever since the Ministry of Technological Advancement had absorbed the other main offices at the palace and instituted strict rules and insufferable working conditions, an underground network of rebellious citizens had quietly begun to form.

Seonghwa had heard whispers of them once or twice, but as far as he knew had never been involved with them.

They were a shadowy group with eyes everywhere, so it was difficult to know whether he’d encountered their members or not.

“Well,” Yeosang scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. “I don’t intend to join a revolution, but times are hard. So many people are barred from escaping. If I can make a difference in saving lives and making one less machine operate, I’ll gladly do so.”

Seonghwa found his eyes to be welling up and glanced away.

It wasn’t that he was sad to be sent away alone. It wasn’t even that he might be separating from a colleague he’d known since their university days. It was his pride in Yeosang, that he’d found a perfect way to serve a cause that was important to him, honestly to them both.

“Are you alright, hyung?” Yeosang sounded surprised, so Seonghwa wiped his eyes quickly and shot him a reassuring smile.

“Just happy for you,” the older admitted, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “You should consider joining me one day when it’s your turn to escape the Ministry. Any suspicious activity will put a sure target on your back, and you don’t want to end up in a factory.”

Seonghwa didn’t mean it lightly.

For years he had studied obliviously, thrilled to be a part of the technology team helping to bring Joseon to the future with better, more efficient steam-powered devices.

Until one day when he had witnessed the horror of the factories himself, had seen what his creations, untethered, could do to people.

Seonghwa bit back the memory and tasted blood on his tongue.

During his reminiscing, his colleague had packed his things and fetched his shoes.

“Yeosang, won’t you stay?” Seonghwa got to his feet suddenly, chiding himself mentally for being a bad host. “A storm is rolling in, I can bring your sleeping mats out—”

But the younger man simply shook his head with a smile and stepped outside, breathing in the slightly citrusy aroma of bamboo in late fall. It was as fresh as it had been the day he found this little hideaway and ushered Seonghwa into it.

“I hope one of these days you consider putting your skills to use,” Yeosang teased on the way out, his tone light but his words serious. “The people could use a Mechanist.”

___

A/N: Welcome to Mechanosis!! It was born from a prompt in 2022's platonic fic fest on ao3 and I'm planning on expanding and finishing it, so if you like the late Joseon period/steampunk pirate vibes or are intrigued by the story thus far, please do stick around and let me know what you think :) I may be slow to update considering my many other works and crazy schedule but hearing from readers always helps with motivation so don't forget to leave some in the comments/reblogs!

Summary | Masterlist | Next →

#ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez au #tokki writes #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez fic #ateez angst #joseon era #steampunk au #mechanosis #ateez

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fandomanimatic-tournament · 6 months

Text

Fandom song animatic tournament: Side A Round 2

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing - Set it Off

"So could you Tell me how you're sleeping easy? How you're only thinking of yourself? Show me how you justify Telling all your lies like second nature Listen, mark my words, one day (one day) You will pay, you will pay Karma's gonna come collect your debt"

Curses - The Crane Wives

"There's still cobwebs in the corners And the backyard's full of bones Won't you stay with me, my darling When this house don't feel like home? When this house don't feel like home Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust The devil's after both of us Ooh, lay my curses out to rest Make a mercy out of me"

Remember that we're voting on how Iconic they are for ANIMATICS, not for the song itself. In order to make things fair, the tone and mood of the song should not affect how iconic it is (for example, a serious song should not be considered more iconic than a joke song just because it's serious)

Propaganda and animatic links of the songs under the cut:

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing - Set it Off

Propaganda:

I was appalled when I found out this song had a chance if not appearing on the polls. This song is my everything. It was there for me in my darkest moments and for my brightest days. This song and all it's animatics got me through life both metaphorically and literally. This song is my everything

wolf in sheeps clothing turned me evil as a young child /pos

This had SUCH an effect on me in middle school

The anthem for edgy middle schoolers with tragic OCs everywhere Not to mention that "Burn. In. HELLLLLLLLLL YEAAHHHHH!" Is just downright iconic

Admittedly I still want to make an animatic for this myself, but it's a fun song that just OOZES villainous or anti-hero charm and popping up unexpectedly and the bridge???? Shifting from darker to hopeful only to drop back down?? "Start all over, start all over-- who am I kidding, let's not get overzealous here! You've always been a huge piece of shit" is just. mwah. incredible. And there's an official acoustic version of it too which I don't know if it's used as often but it has an entirely different vibe. Instead of the cocky or confident singer who has their target EXACTLY where they want them, it's someone who's given up and is tired of all of it. There's Options. it's fantastic.

Animatics with the song:

DSMP Technoblade animatic

Yandere Highschool

Your Turn To Die

Miraculous Ladybug

Scum Villain Self Serving System

Curses - The Crane Wives

Propaganda:

The crane wives are just the best thing for any fandom. Ashes ashes dust to dust, the devil's after both of us.

A nice little jaunty tune about the BLOOD CURSE

Curses Last Life Animatic changed the fandom dude, everybody has seen it it's so iconic

Animatics with the song:

Last Life Animatic

The Magnus Archive

Curse of Strahd

Ace Attorney

Please be cautious and read the title, description and warning cards on the animatic videos if you decide to watch them. If you've got specific triggers I'd recommend even more caution when watching animatics of fandoms you don't know, since sometimes canon-typical themes don't get warnings.

Please keep in mind that I don't know all the media and fandoms of the animatics provided as examples and I don't have the time (nor the will) to research them all. Don't come into my notes or my ask box complaining about them being included, I will simply block you. If a ship animatic included is about an adult and a minor, do tell me and I'll take it out of the post

ALSO keep in mind that I don't know all the artists submitted; in fact, even if I do know them I do not know absolutely nothing about them as people (I do not have twitter nor tiktok) and I could not POSSIBLY have the time to research ALL of the artists' controversies and what came of them so PLEASE don't flood my inbox with the artists' entire crime list.

#fandom animatic tournament #tumblr poll #tumblr tournament #tumblr tourney

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isadora-larkspur · 2 years

Note

Ok so could I get either 1 13 or 15 with wilbur bc I think that could be too cute

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! @182-ash this is so FUCKING CUTE IMGONNASCREAM

prompt : “you look adorable even in your sleep.”

masterlist | prompt list

"did you see what wil posted on his story,” you read out from the chat and furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “what? what did wil post?” you asked your viewers before glazing over the messages.

user omg she hasn’t seen it yet

user my heart fucking MELTED when i saw that shit

user OPEN INSTAGRAM

you laughed as you took your phone and unlocked it, your finger swiping over the screen before opening instagram. you looked up wil’s profile, clicking on his icon before feeling your eyes widen.

wilbursoot

you bit your lip at an attempt to contain your smile, feeling a light blush spread over your cheeks. you glanced up to see the chat going by fast, everyone freaking out. “i-uh- was unaware that wil posted this,” you chuckled before glancing at your door.

“WIL!” you called out to your boyfriend in hopes that he might’ve heard you. moments later, the door creaked open a fraction before a head of curls you were familiar with peaked out of the crack.

“yes love?” you heard him say as his eyes glanced around the room. you grinned, your hand reaching out and waving him over to stand by you. he walked towards you and saw that you were on stream.

“wil,” you started, turning your phone towards him before his eyes widened in recognition that you were showing him what he had posted.

“i- uh- i took that when you were taking a nap yesterday,” he said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. your heart hammered against your chest.

“but wiil, my hair looks like a mess,” you complained, the grin still prominently on your face.

“you look adorable,” he said. your cheeks flared.

“i was asleep,” you remarked.

“you look adorable even in your sleep.” you were pretty sure your heart was going to explode out of your chest. you took a deep breath and looked away from his eyes, instead reading the chat.

user LOOK HOW SOFT HE IS FOR HER IM GONNA SCREAM

user THEIR RELATIONSHIIIIIIP >>>>>

user THE WAY WIL LOOKS AT HER !! I ! WANT! THAT!

you laughed at them, shaking your head before looking back at wil to see him peering down at you with a soft gaze in his eyes. “thanks,” you mumbled shyly, huffing out when wil laughed lightly and kissed the top of your head.

masterlist | prompt list

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot #wilbur soot fluff

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ricardian-werewolf · 14 days

Text

Chapter 6: Holy water cannot help you now

Ao3 Link Summary: As the aftermath of the attack on Keramzin comes to the forefront, there is a reflection across Ravka of their Sankta Sol's martyrdom.

Chapter below cut:

After. As the darkness claimed her, the Girl knew this black void was not the end. More, a sleep. The soft, tranquil stillness of a coma. She had fought so long, so hard, and deserved a chance to lick her wounds. The knife to her chest had torn into her heart, but a flicker of sunlight healed the skin before the Darkling could notice.

As she slipped in and out of the inky black, her faithful came from out of the woodwork to settle the girl’s body upon a gold-encrusted litter and laid her upon sheets of gold satin and silks. From there, she was carried by her faithful Soldat Sol across Ravka to the place of her birth. Her friends and allies accompanied her, the gold-eyed twins at her side no matter the day or night. Millions flooded the Dva Stolba valley, chanting her name until their voices were hoarse, and yet screamed still more. Mothers wept, tore at their garments as her litter was carried past village and town alike. Men removed their caps and clutched the icons of her form - the stag’s antlers cast in a halo around her head. The icon showed the fetter on both wrists as she cast a glow of sunlight.

All while, the girl slept and dreamed of a fox-prince with golden hair and hazel eyes. He, too, slept. Buried beneath the ice-sheet of the Ash Tree, brought into a coma through their shared tether. The darkness did not sink its claws into him the way the girl feared. In its stead, the darkness loved her prince the way it could never love her. Time healed all wounds. The girl knew that like a surgeon’s scalpel, the darkness was seeking to cut from her prince the tumor that had festered in his soul for so long.

The Darkling had evaded fate once again, leaving the orphanage of the girl’s youth a smoldering ruin. Into his embrace he had taken the Grisha children, promising brimstone and hellfire to follow if anyone made to move against them. But, one did. Sturmhond, the wolf of the seas, made the Darkling’s plans to attack the Firebird’s nest a near impossibility. The First Army, of its Otkazat’sya men and women, raised new banners in the name of the Sun Saint:

A fox circling a sunburst, all backed in the deep green of the Little Prince.

They took up their guns and sabres once more, and marched into the fog of war to bring glory to their war-torn home. All while worshiping her name and offering prayers of healing for the soul of the girl who had become their savior.

Little girls scattered fire-flower petals on the grasses of the Firefalls as the Apparat, returned from his holy exile, proclaimed the Sankta Sol in a place beyond what mere man knew. She was not at the Making of the Heart of the World, not yet.

Nor would she be. For the tether that stretched between the Little Saint and Little Prince was a bond that could not be cleaved even by death. As long as the other loved their half, they would not die. The Little Prince was too clever to evade death’s scythe. He would be the one to plunge into the underworld, guided by the girl’s light, and they would emerge.

Together.

She would not let the Darkling rule another day. He would face his fate, whether with the steel of a Grisha blade or cold bullet of a rifle. It would be up to the girl to undo the pain and misery that had swallowed her country and people whole. She would live.

She would rise, become the savior her people needed. It was time to come out from under her old matron’s skirts. The Girl would waken, and she would have at her side a king who would crown her in cloths of gold and fox-fur, impress into her skin the prayers of a man who loved her for who she was. His word was holy oath, more than even the Apparat’s cries.

Her faithful would come for her, and she for him. This much was something that could be written in the stars, in the compass that pointed ever truly north, and the ring upon the girl’s finger that only the red-haired girl of one eye and many scars recognized.

Her friends and allies would disperse, and would return to the lives of outlaws and miscreants intent on surviving. But from her place of rest and enshrinement, they would emerge crowned in the certainty that the Sun Saint had not forsaken her most beloved of peoples. She had not failed them once ere this.

Now she would not either.

Carried up in the flames of the firefalls, the litter carrying the girl was deconstructed, and a dome of the finest Fabrikator made glass placed over the bed. In its becoming of a coffin, the falls were parted and the coffin placed into a cave lit by the stalagmites that dripped down from its ceiling. Then, the cave was sealed, prayers were finally offered, and the crowd drew away in reverence for their martyred saint.

All across her homeland, church-bells sang songs of mourning, calling the faithful to mass and supplicants to kneel at their shrines. All to beg for the soul of the girl who was an icon.

Inside the coffin, the girl touched the fetter at her wrist and the collar at her neck.

A smile touched her face. In her ear, she heard a voice whisper.

“Rest well, Sunshine.” The girl’s laugh was a silent one, but it brought mirth to her. She closed her eyes again, and let the darkness carry her down into a world only the Little Prince and she knew. There, she would be home. Orpheus had found her Eurydice. She would strum her lyre and sing sweet songs of the return of a fox-king and a sun-queen.

Those who heard her song would know of her return, and carry in their breasts the sacredness of such a gospel sung by a girl unto whom death nor the Darkling could touch.

#nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #my fic #Alina starkov #Nikolina #wyn rambles #wyn writes #I will follow you into the dark

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