#to be expected to be truly radical voices in this situation

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

When did you start the original owl vid blog and what was it like? Was it more focused on reviewing owl videos? I’m just curious as to how you ended up involved in a bunch of discourse* about not-owls.

*lets just call it that for simplicity’s sake ahah

I made the original in either January or February 2020 after being frustrated to a breaking point seeing another video of an owl in an obviously bad situation being shared uncritically because the OP had mislead their followers about what was going on. “Oh this owl LOVES his kitten and duck friends!” “Oh look at this owl having SO much fun in the bubble bath!” It was endless. At the time there was genuinely no one questioning anything going on in any of them. My only outlet was to vent it to some of my friends in group chats and such. We would pass around different videos that ended up on our dashes and discuss the issues amongst ourselves just to be in a space where people actually said something because outside of those chats we were going mad seeing it time and time again.

I made the blog while scrolling tumblr aimlessly during a particularly long winded seminar I was sitting in on, I had reblogged a photo of a wild owl and tumblr began recommending various owl abuse videos mislabeled as cute. I had enough. I made a blog name and used large bold letters and emphasizing colors so my posts would be seen by people scrolling the reblogs. I scoured the entire owl tag and rated every single video I came across, typing paragraph upon paragraph detailing everything wrong with those photos and videos and it didn’t take more than a day or two before I had amassed a few thousand followers, people were interested. People were listening, there were a few “okay Karen” types here and there, but the large majority were willing to listen in a way I had never seen before. I had made posts like this on Facebook (not under an alias) and my posts were always immediately met with “who cares if the owl dies it’s just a fun video it’s not that deep let people enjoy things” and threats of lawsuits for “defamation” from the online personalities and “sanctuaries” i critiqued. To say tumblr was a breath of fresh air was an understatement, I have been on this website since ~2013-2015 (not on a themed blog, just various personal blogs I deleted and remade a few times, and a discourse blog or two mixed alongside a few admin slots making pride icons with cartoon characters for people), and I can honestly say this initial experience was the last thing I expected from this hellsite.

For the first few months, I wanted to hang onto that. I didn’t want to bring politics into it, this was just about owls and wildlife, I didn’t want to detract from the goal of educating people on how to spot animal abuse. And for a time that worked well. I was happy. The followers were happy. Until I started paying attention to the people following me and interacting with my posts. Usernames like “radical-clit” or “jake1488” would start to pop up more often. More icons would have kekistan pride flags, or just iron crosses outright. Some icons proudly just said “TERF is a slur” while others were naked white women in wheat fields. I had what I asked for, a truly “apolitical” space where everyone, even Nazis and TERFs felt very welcome.

And I took exception to that.

I made the first real post using my voice and my stances. I said trans women are women. I said Black Lives Matter. I said ACAB and I said wear a mask when COVID started to hit. I started blocking the ones that didn’t scatter from my blog like roaches, I went through my follower list manually and blocked every TERF, Nazi, and any other type of sleazeball I could find. I manually vetted a few thousand people.

This resonated with people. I expected backlash, and there was a fair shake of it, but I received more asks than I had before. Hundreds of strangers thanking me for making my stance clear and letting them know they were welcome. And that stuck with me.

I had made this blog to educate, and that is what I was going to do. So when I started getting asks from those opposed to my open sharing of political subjects, I responded to their hate mail as though it was a debate. I wasn’t trying to change their minds, I’m not that naive, it was to further educate anyone else reading about it, to tell the full story and to arm them with tools to fight back against bad faith talking points the right weaponizes. From that point on, I would get off topic asks questioning my political stances, and I continued to answer them. I wanted it to be clear where I stood because I did not want marginalized people to ever question if I was secretly a bigot.

I never stopped actually reviewing owl videos, however I did stop using the flashy long format responses to avoid annoying people. I had a following by then, I didn’t need to shout to be heard over scores of people fawning over animal abuse. I still rate videos today, but if it’s one that I’ve rated at all within the past year or especially one I’ve rated multiple times, I tend to ignore the message. I don’t go looking for them anymore for the same reason I’d imagine you probably don’t go out of your way to find videos of dogs and cats being abused. It’s upsetting, it’s emotionally tolling. There’s also only so many ways I can say “owls cannot safely cohabit with other species or more than one other owl”, “owls cannot swim well and don’t like being fully submerged in water for a viral tiktok”, or “owl cafes and pet keeping of owls are inherently abusive”.

If I’ve already rated three videos of people letting their toddlers or other pets manhandle large owls, do I really need to be sent six more? My point is Education, not sending as many upsetting videos of animal abuse as I can find to place on your dash and say things you already know if you’ve seen my other posts.

Anyway, for a shorter answer to your question: I get non-owl discourse consistently because I don’t shy away from addressing it. I don’t want my stances to be vague, I don’t want good people wondering if I support trump or genocide. I am a firm believer that silence is violence. I’m not going to do what white culture favors and simply look away and avoid the topic of injustices simply to make white users more comfortable.

This blog was never meant to be comfortable.

This is the “animal abuse is bad stop that” blog.

It would be weird of me to oppose animal abuse and them remain silent on abuses and injustices faced by human beings.

I don’t wake up in the morning saying “okay today will be 80% international politics, 12% discourse about the causes and ethics of pedophilia as a mental disorder, and 8% birds with 1% of that being owls. If someone asks me if I support trans rights I will answer them. If someone attacks me for that then I will respond to their attack.

If some days I don’t feel like looking for upsetting animal abuse and formulating an entire essay on why abusing said animal for entertainment is wrong, I do something else.

[into-september]

"Buddy Daddies" IS better than Spy x Family, but it left me with questions

First and foremoest: who is the audience?

I'm wondering because the concept screams of either seinen or fujo, but the foucs is run-of-the-mill shounen. We're throwing our heroes into a situation where they're forced to ask prickly questions about their values and their life choices, and we've got them making the expected discoveries and the obvious choices from that, but no effort is made to dig into the real question:

Why do Kazuki and Rei choose each other?

There are two possible answers to that question: One is a life-changing backstory, and the other is gay. And the singular thing keeping "Buddy Daddies" from greatness is that it never answers.

They're partners because reasons. They're living together because something about couch-surfing idk. They met each other when they were both at rock-bottom crossroads, but did minimally to pick each other up from there. How much do they even know about each other? They certainly don't seem to be particularly invested in why the other has lost at life. As the story begins, they're hardly coming across as friends, and to what extent they end there, it's because of the way Miri influences them, separately.

As such, Miri herself is little more than a plot devices setting events in motion. Too young to be a focal consciousness in a story centred on adult questions, the story never dwells on her and the harrowing experiences she goes through with little more than laughing. She's repeatedly separated from three different parental figures and meets that with nothing but the joy of a reunion, because of course she's not the interesting figure here. That'd be the daddies.

By the end, Rei wants them to be a "real family", but why does that family include Kazuki? By all accounts, that was just some co-worker crashing at his place and who dragged in a kid who changed everything. The show never once questions whether their family will involve anyone more or less: it's Kazuki-papa and Rei-papa and Miri; no talk about any possible new mamas except for the very first and the very last scene, nothing said about why Kazuki and Rei take it for granted that the other wants to raise this child with him.

And the thing is, the thing is, the answer is RIGHT THERE. Kazuki obviously thinks he cannot have the family he wants thanks to his job, or doesn't deserve it thanks to the same; Rei has been raised into the same job, deprived of any kind of parental love and is repeatedly told to "cast off" that weakness. What stands between them and the thing they want (Miri) is their profession as hitmen, albeit from radically different angles for them both. But the show never has them question their life outside of society; only when they lose Miri over it do they truly acknowledge that raising a child is incompatible with being a professional murderer, and even then they never reflect on what their career choice says about what kind of people they are.

It's a gimmick and an easy ticket to action scenes, but it is never challenged. We don't know why Kazuki chose this path and why Rei never broke free before, and when they decide to leave it, it is with the same narrative shrug as their choosing to make a family with another guy who they by all accounts isn't involved with.

And it is frustrating because they show - particularly in its latter half - seems to be hanging on the cusp of diving into it, in connecting the threads between these two lonely men with their differently ruined lives, their different pursuits of a violent lifestyle and the way this would explain why they'd each come to step out of it because of one little girl.

Don't get me wrong - the show is cute and the finale is satisfying in nearly every way I'd expect it. It's just so close to being super memorable, rather than another action-comedy buddy show.

If you want a show where Koki Uchiyama voices a gangster princeling forced into the choice between loyalty to the clan and the sweetness promised by his found family, where the questions about choosing a life of murder are pursued to their ugly end and where twelve episodes are plenty and then some for explaining why these kids are choosing each other, then let me tell you about our lord and savior kunihiko ikuhara and the buttplug kappa magical boy anime

And that one is not afraid to say gay

#buddy daddies #blah #animation #sarazanmai #Youtube

[literacynarrativemadyson]

the following is my first spoken word performance via a zoom call with my peers in 2020. I was really proud of myself for putting together something I felt would move people to act and radicalize us to strive for a different future:

when I entered adulthood, capitalism placed a veil over my reality and changed things while I wasn’t looking or didn’t know to pay attention.

Where I used to see artistic expression beyond imagination, I saw a career path and a safe plan to secure a livable wage.

Where I used to see laughter, friendship and sisterhood, I saw networking and professionalism and polite smiles.

I mourned my vision of the world before it even had the chance to breathe.

I can’t lift the veil completely yet, but I can try pass through it, and what I have seen as I try to cross is not comfortable but it is necessary.

I first saw what is true, which is that there is no ethical consumption under capitalism. Nothing in my fridge looks clean. I am able to nourish my body, but in the back of my head I wonder who’s life was sacrificed so that I may eat.

This breaks me but it is true. I don’t try to deny it. i carry it with me, and the veil grows thinner.

I recognize that the stakes are truly a matter of life and death and not everyone sees that yet. A car coming through a parking lot looks like a car, but feels like a weapon pointed in my direction. I place myself between it and my mother, whether she notices or not, because I don’t know who is driving it and people have killed black women for lesser offenses than crossing the street. Immediately I think, that was not normal, where did that thought come from. But it is the truth of the situation. I troubles me, but I carry it with me all the same, and the veil grows thinner.

I learn that if evil and danger is true, then good and peace must also be just as true. No matter how much they try to cover or ignore the truth of our world, I see it in my sisters smile when she finishes a painting she has no intention to sell. I feel it in my chest when my friends uplift each other without the expectation of a transaction ever being made. I hear it when the voices of the kids playing down the street somehow carry through my window and I remember when the world made complete sense to me. I realize, that the world I want exists within me already, and right now it is so tangible that I think that it must all be worth something because my friends say they are starting to see it too.

And even as I tear my way through the layers of oppression, and hurt, and betrayal, I cannot look back. Because a life worth living is on the other side. My humanity is on the other side. Behind me is not true. It is a lie and was always a lie and I cannot allow myself to believe it any longer. And I ask you all to do the same. even when it feels like you are alone in your pursuit for the world which you must believe is true because you’ve seen in it your mind and can almost recall it from some distant memory. Know that the world you want already exists within you and is waiting to be realized and that I, at least, will be waiting for you on the other side.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis Mother’s Day Special: Sephiroth & Norman Bates

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Ah, Mother’s Day, a perfect day to celebrate all the moms out there in the world… And I can tell you two guys who will be doing that more than anyone. Finally, after years of putting this off, here is the Psycho Analysis Mother’s Day Special! And considering who one of the villains we’re talking about is, this is also quite literally a Psycho Analysis!

I’m pretty sure these two radically different guys need no introduction, but for those who aren’t pro gamers or cinephiles, they are Sephiroth, the sword-wielding mass murderer with a god complex who tries to destroy the world with a giant meteor in Final Fantasy VII, and Norman Bates, the seemingly normal motel owner who has a rather murderous split personality. While you could not pick two more insanely different characters to toss together into an analysis, they do have one very important thing in common:

They’re doing pretty much everything they do because of their mothers.

Motivation/Goals: These two could not be more different if they tried.

Norman is just your average guy. He really just seems to want to live in peace with his mother, maybe find some semblance of happiness someday, but he’s living under her oppressive rule (in his own head, no less). Whatever the case, he goes to murderous extremes to protect his mother from even the slightest hints of danger, and that’s what lends him into the situation he winds up in.

Sephiroth, true to his JRPG nature, has an intricately crafted backstory informing his goals. To dumb it down, Sephiroth was a genetically-engineered super soldier who had an evil alien being named Jenova’s cells spliced into his fetus, turning him into said alien's evil avatar essentially. He came to believe this being was his mother and one day snapped, razing an entire town before being defeated and falling into the lifestream. Unfortunately for everyone, Sephiroth is such a hardcore badass that instead of being consumed by the lifestream he instead managed to accumulate power and knowledge so that he could merge with the lifestream itself and become god in the name of his supposed “mother.”

It’s a JRPG, what do you expect?

Performance: Anthony Perkins is, quite literally, perfect as Norman. He injects him with just the right levels of charm and awkwardness that he really does seem like a normal guy. And, well, he is, he just happens to have a murderous alter who doesn’t like when anything comes between them. Perkins is great at portraying a slight eerie offness to Norman that a lesser actor could never hope to capture… And I guess this is where I should mention that Vince Vaughn tried to do just that,capture that brilliance. And he fucking failed miserably. Vince Vaughn looks like a fat, sweaty sex offender and has none of the sweet, innocent charm Perkins exuded. Why the hell Gus Van Sant ever thought Vaughn could pull off a character like Bates is beyond me.

Sephiroth had no voice actor in the original game, but from Crisis Core until Kingdom Hearts II he got the voice of Superman himself, George Newbern. Only a man with the massive talent of Newbern could convincingly pull off a villain of this caliber after voicing arguably the greatest hero of all time. Funnily enough, his replacement for the remake (Tyler Hoechlin) has also played Superman; I guess to truly understand a great villain you must master a great hero first.

Oh, and for some reason (that reason being insane amounts of stunt casting to help sell the game), Lance Bass of all people voiced Sephiroth in the original Kingdom Hearts.

Final Fate: Norman ends up getting caught, and is locked up for his crimes. Sephiroth wishes he got off so easy; Cloud kicks his ass and finishes him off, and he does it every time Sephiroth tries to come back too. My man may never be a memory, but he’s also not ever gonna be the winner as long as he keeps picking on Cloud.

Best Scene: These two have more iconic scenes between them than you can hope to shake a stick at.

For Norman, he has the often imitated but never surpassed shower murder, a scene that has gone down as one of the most iconic moments in horror history. That score is doing a lot of the heavy lifting here, I can’t deny that, but the way we aren’t really shown much in the way of violence or gore onscreen also helps a lot, as our minds must fill in the blanks.

Sephiroth… Well, this man has a plethora of amazing scenes. Should I go with his infamous murder of Aerith, a scene that lives in infamy and is one of the most heartbreaking moments in video game history? Perhaps the final battle against him, or within that battle anytime he uses his ridiculously long Supernova attack? Maybe one of the ten thousand times in the game and other media that he has decided to fight Cloud?

For my money, there is no better moment than when he turns and walks into the flames at Nibelheim. It is a moment so terrifyingly badass that they just had to make it his victory screen in Smash Ultimate. The scene with Aerith may cement Sephiroth as one of the most ruthless and evil villains of all time, but his walk into the flames is what cemented him as one of the baddest motherfuckers to ever walk this Earth.  

Best Quote: “Well, a boy’s best friend is his mother” and “We all go a little mad sometimes” are Norman’s iconic lines, ones you may have heard even if you’ve never seen the movie with how often they’re referenced.

For Sephiroth, no matter what your opinion of Advent Children is, it’s hard to deny that “I will… never be a memory…” is one of the most raw, chilling villain lines someone of Sephiroth’s character could say. And the fact he has pursued Cloud through spinoffs, two Kingdom Hearts games, and even into a massive crossover platform fighter shows that he is not fucking kidding. Cloud Strife is never going to forget this guy.

Final Thoughts & Score: I don’t think it can really be overstated how important these two are for their respective mediums.

Norman Bates is the Ur-Example of the slasher, and in his footsteps every slasher movie villain would follow. I’m not exaggerating here; John Carpenter’s Halloween is quite explicit in its love for Hitchcock’s classic, and that film is what kickstarted the slasher craze we all know and love. Villains like Freddy and Jason may owe a lot to Michael Meyers, certainly, but they wouldn’t even exist if not for Bates (and Jason’s mama’s boy tendencies might not be as pronounced). He also manages to dodge bullets other, later villains did not, as though it would have been incredibly easy for this film to demonize the mentally ill and trans people, the info dump at the end goes out of its way to say that his violent tendencies should not be ascribed to a trans identity, and it takes pains to point out Norman is an entirely different persona from his alter. It is very forward-thinking, and keeps Norman from falling into problems later movie killers would.

Sephiroth, while most definitely not the first JRPG villain, is still pretty much the JRPG villain. He is literally everything a JRPG villain should be: Cool, mysterious, dangerous, has a gigantic sword, has a complicated backstory, has a deep-seated rivalry with the main character, has super insane magical powers, has like fifty different forms that can unleash incredible attacks… And let’s not forget how the man sprouts an angel wing in a lot of his appearances in outside works, which is sick as hell. This man is the Anime Swordsman to rule them all, and far too many villains have tried to get out of his shadow and failed miserably.

Both of these guys are clear 11/10 material. They are incredible, influential, iconic, and awesome villains who changed the game for all villains who came after them in their genres. Still, while plenty of slashers have managed to become just as important and iconic as Norman, I can’t say there’s any JRPG villain who came after Sephiroth who really comes close to being as groundbreaking and memorable to the point they really make a huge impact. Whatever the case, these two are the top of their class and two of the most important villains ever made.

Oh… I guess I should rank Vaughn’s Norman while we’re here.

You see and hear him whack off during the peephole scene. Norman ‘bates, alright. 1/10.

#Psycho Analysis #Mother's Day #Sephiroth #Norman Bates #george newbern #Anthony Perkins #Psycho #Final Fantasy VII

[thesagedahlia]

♀️Gemini: Polarity Reading♂️

♀️: she is in the process of releasing what isn't serving her, which may be considering cutting certain ties with people in her life. she is observing everything she experiences in her relationships & is taking everything as it come to her. she has come to the conclusion that she needs to heal, or she will come to this, & the best way for her to greatly execute this is by retracting/detaching her energy completely from people/situations that are doing her more harm than good. the initial focus is speaking up in times where she doesn't feel like she's getting what she needs from someone or something. she understands now what she is looking for in a stable situation/relationship & she is beginning to voice her opinions on this. this has been a lesson in honoring her essence & not letting it be suppressed by those who expect her to do so. she is honing in on her values & is making it a priority to make the necessary changes to honor her emotional needs, even if this means radical change. she's a lot more strict in the sense that she is no longer settling for less & she is setting off onto a path that has a lot more meaning & passion behind it. she is taking her own happiness into consideration within plans to move forward & she's strategizing while in a place of suspension (that he universe may have prompted). she's working to bring more stability into her dreams.

♂️: the masculine is mirroring the feminine energy by being motivated by his passions/dreams as well. he may be having a hard time fitting in all of what he wants into one mission or onto one path, or at least this is what he believes. the truth is he could have it all, but this may be a difficult concept for him to wrap his head around. having necessary control over his foundation & stability has been a tunnel-vision goal that has kept him occupied for sometime now, so much so that he doesn't have time to enjoy certain things he's manifested for himself. he is needing to close out these cycles of overthinking or over planning to the point where his head is spinning. he may want to prevent an outcome that has been programed for him to believe. it's time he take back power in his situation by being honest with himself & what he wants. he is becoming aware of the path that he wants to choose moving forward & it is going to require some bold forward movement, but first things first; he must get out of his head regarding fears of failure &/or insecurities. there is an imbalance that he can no longer ignore & he is coming to terms to facing & correcting for the betterment of himself & others involved. vulnerability is also something he may be needing to look at when perusing what is truly important to him. he may be focused on a situation that may be worth expanding on when it comes to his own personal journey, but delays/canceled plans may have caused him or someone he is connecting/collaborating with lose hope in creation/bringing balance due to reckless planning/behaviors in the past

*this reading is intended for Gemini placements (big 6 especially venus&mars) & is intended to entertainment purposes only, this is NOT a gender specific reading, we all have & harbor masculine & feminine energy; pronouns being used to refer to energy, take what resonates, leave the rest*

#tarot community #witchblr #tarot #tarot readings #ask sage #astrology #gemini mercury #gemini sun #gemini rising #gemini venus #gemini mars #gemini moon #gemini #gemini feminine #gemini masculine #feminine energy #masculine energy

[whimsicallyreading]

Who Cares

Masterlist

Hunt was soaked in blood.

From beneath his chin, to the toes of his heavy, leather boots. It coated him like a second layer of crimson skin, and Hunt was aware that anyone who came across him would think he was a walking nightmare.

This wasn’t the first or last time he’d walked around publicly in such a state. The Umbra Mortis was no fairy tale told to keep children in bed. He was a living, breathing male that walked the streets of Lunathion daily.

Bryce’s new public status meant that cameras followed her everywhere. Hunt’s name was elevated with hers, but people hesitated pointing their lenses at him. They still cleared the sidewalks when he passed by.

It stung.

Hunt landed on the roof of their apartment and made the slow descent to his floor. Red foot prints followed his wake but he didn’t look back at those. He would leave a tip for the janitor later.

He stepped through the door and kicked off his shoes. Bryce, on the other hand, would murder him if they ruined her rugs.

A low, rumbling ground broke through the silence and Syrinx came barreling from his crate. The little beast charged at the intruder prepared to chew their bones with his need-like teeth.

“Syrinx,” Hunt huffed and got down on his knees. “If you bite my ass again I’m going to turn you into a pair of socks.”

Syrinx skidded to a halt, taking Hunt in with his amber eyes. Once he recognized the male under the blood, his tongue flopped out and his disposition sweetened.

“There you are, Beastie.” Hunt scratched Syrinx’s ears. “Bryce will be home soon and I need to go wash off before she sees me. I’ll take you on a walk after. How is that?”

Syrinx made happy, snuffling sounds and pranced back to his bed. Content to finish his nap and wait for all of his friends to arrive.

Hunt opened the door to his bathroom. Bryce had all but moved him into her room, but claimed this room still belonged to him. She wanted him to have the autonomy of his own space.

Hel, he loved her.

They also shared her bathroom now. Conserving water was her rational for that. Hunt didn’t want the blood to stain her tub, though, so he would use this shower.

Isaiah had called to inform him of a couple shifter radicals, intent on usurping the Wolves of the city and attempting to plant bombs in Moonwood. His friend was loathe to ask, but Hunt understood the request.

Dispatch them quietly.

Hunt wouldn’t deny that was his forte, and Isaiah asking out of respect was different than doing it because Micah ordered.

He is was halfway through cleaning the feathers of his left wing when he heard the apartment door slam open.

“Hunt,” Bryce’s voice screamed, filled with pain and terror.

Leaping from the shower, Hunt barely wrapped a towel around his waist before bursting into the living room.

Bryce was standing by the front door next to his bloodied boots. Her face was pale, legs trembling, and tears were running down her freckled cheeks.

“Bryce, what the Hel is wrong?” He gripped her shoulders and scanned her body for damage. Nothing was out of place besides the tears ruining her makeup.

Mentally he was swearing, if one of those fae bastards had harassed her again on her way home he would-

“There was blood-“ Bryce choked between sobs. “All the way down the hallway. On the walls. The floor, I thought, I thought-“

Shit. He was an idiot.

Hunt pulled her to his chest, neither caring that he was wet or that one wing was still stained and dirty. He could feel Bryce’s heart racing, and her whole body shook in his arms.

He carded his fingers through her hair. “Shit. I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.”

Bryce thought she was walking into another massacre. Another body. Another friend and another love death. He must have made a bigger mess than he’d thought.

“I didn’t know you had a job today,” she cried, her face stilled pressed into his chest. “You can’t do that to me.”

“I’m really freaking sorry,” Hunt apologized, feeling more like a bastard with every sob. “Isaiah called and I didn’t even think to call you.”

Bryce leans back and slams a fist again his chest, and damn if it didn’t hurt. “You moron! You didn’t even consider letting me know?”

Her sorrow was replaced with a burning rage that confused Hunt. “It wasn’t a serious job. Just messy. I didn’t think it was important. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I don’t care if you think it’s important,” Bryce growled, her freckles scrunched as her face contorted in anger. “It doesn’t have to be important. I care about you. I want to know because I care if you come home looking like a freaking reaper.”

Hunts eyebrows drew together, “It’s just my job, Bryce. I’m lucky to have one.”

“I know it’s your job,” her voice becomes quiet and her eyes look pained. “But don’t lie and say it doesn’t take a toll on you. We are mirrors, remember? You can’t lie to me. If I’d known I would have been here waiting for you.”

Hunt takes a risk and dips in to kiss Bryce. Nothing like the swift pecks they often exchanged, this was deep and passionate. He gripped the back of her hand in his fist and pulled Bryce closer to him.

When they pulled back, she looked flustered.

“I know you care,” Hunt chokes around the emotion building inside him. “It just surprises me how much sometimes.”

Bryce sighs and takes his hand, leading him back to the shower he left running. He sits on the side of the tub, still in his towel as she picks up a loofa and gets to work on his other wing.

They are silent as she works. Hunt can scent the fear that’s still leeching its way from her system. When she finishes, Hunt wets a rag and wipes the makeup and tears from under her eyes. He presses a kiss to each one when they are cleaned.

“You have a different kind of love Bryce,” He whispers foreheads pressed together. “I’ve never met a heart like yours. Sometimes the honor that you’ve made a place for me inside of it still hits me. I’m truly sorry for scaring you.”

Bryce looks up at him, her red lashes brushing against her eyebrows. “I wish you would stop forgetting that you aren’t alone anymore. You won’t ever be alone again, Hunt. I care if you are okay.”

Tears sting his eyes and he blinks them back. What a foreign concept. He’d spent most of his life in servitude but here was this girl, a literal princess who cared if he came home in a good mental state. Who’d washed him more than once. Who got a spark in her eyes whenever she saw him experiencing or enjoying something new.

Bryce, who made sure he had autonomy in their home, their relationship, their things. Because she wanted his freedom for him even when Hunt didn’t think he needed it.

“You aren’t alone either,” Hunt kisses her again. Deeper. More frantically.

Her hair is damp from the steam and sticks to his skin but he couldn’t care less as her arms wrap around his shoulders. Bryce cups both sides of his face in an iron grip.

Hunt lifts her off her feet and they stumble into the hall when they hear a gasp.

They rip apart and Bryce’s eyes widen in mortification at the couple standing at the door. “Mom! What the hel are you doing here?”

Ember and Randall are staring at them from the doorway. The latter looks like he wants to run back at the door or decapitate Hunt. Ember seems unbothered, her hands resting on her hips and a tight grin.

“Did you forget we were coming? Of course you did,” Ember sighs. “Tell your Angel to go put some clothes on, and perhaps clean yourself up as well?”

“I’m going to kill him,” Randall manages to strangle out, he looks to his wife. “Ember, I’m going to kill him.”

Ember rolls her eyes, “You can kill him later.” Her steely look turns towards Bryce. “We’ve had a long trip and I can assume you don’t have a room ready for us?”

Bryce murmurs under her breath away as she ushers Hunt out of sight. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll have Hunt’s room ready.”

“We will be waiting,” Ember sings as she and Randall drop their bags by the front door.

Bryce’s bedroom door shuts behind them and Hung runs a stressed hand through his damp hair. “That’s not how I wanted to officially meet your parents.”

“Well get over it,” Bryce throws a pair of shorts at him. “Nothing ever goes as planned with them.”

Hunt can’t help but think being almost naked and making out with their daughter had to at least be on the worst end of that spectrum. Still, he was resolved to try and fix this. He wants to exceed their expectations of a boyfriend.

For Bryce? There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do. How hard could impressing her human parents be? They’d chatted over video call before. He liked both of them. Hunt can rectify this situation, he assures himself.

At least, he hopes he can.

What happens when Val’s client never arrived for their appointment? She stress writes quinlar fluff on her phone while sitting on a grooming table. Hope you guys enjoy <3 

Taglist- (let me know if you would like to be added or removed :D)

@cursebreaker29

@firestarsandseneschals

@royalsqueeze

@julemmaes

@tillyrubes10

@live-the-fangirl-life

@ghostlyrose2

#its gonna get awkward in here #Quinlar #hunt and bryce #crescent city #TAIl #The Answer is Love #a house of earth and blood

[sadviper]

Woo Do Hwan: Interview with Kankoku TV Drama vol. 97 (Aug 2020)

Once again, much thanks to @staidwaters​ for graciously reviewing and correcting!!! This was a really hefty interview, hope you enjoy~

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Woo Do Hwan

Sword, bow, and horseback riding for the first time

A “Monstrous Newcomer” in a career-making, historical drama debut

In 2016, in the movie “Master”, Woo Do Hwan played the role of Lee Byung Hyun’s subordinate. Even though he appeared onscreen for just three minutes, he left a strong impression, attracting attention. Since then, he starred in “Save Me” (2017 OCN), taking on the nickname of “Monstrous Newcomer” and setting out on a brilliant career path. The next step he takes will be his first historical drama “My Country” (2019 JTBC).

Tackling a historical drama is an ideal chance for young and promising actors to grow; they have a rare chance to study in depth with multiple superb veteran actors over the long filming period. Woo Do Hwan did not miss this opportunity. His new work “The King: Eternal Monarch” (2020 SBS) leverages 120% of what he learned from “My Country”, and his popularity is surging.

Struck by a midwinter waterfall, the most dreadful and frigid opportunity to showcase yourself

--What kind of work is ”My Country”?

WDH: Each of the characters clash with the others for the sake of their personal convictions. This drama depicts their love and friendships. The country they are each reaching for … in a way, you could say they seek the same goal. Everyone wants a country in which they can live happily, but each person has a different path to that goal. This work skillfully depicts the conflicts that arise in the midst of this.

--Please introduce the role that you play.

WDH: Nam Seon-ho is an illegitimate child born to a family of nobles (yanban), and he has suffered greatly because of his birth. The poor guy is only able to relax his guard and laugh when he is with Seo Hwi (played by Yang Se Jong) and his younger sister Yeon (played by Jo Yi Hyun). However, even under such circumstances, he holds onto his ambitions. He doesn’t want other people to experience the same kind of pain that he has endured, so he strives to become the right-hand man of Yi Seong-gye (played by Kim Young-cheol), the future founder and king of the Joseon Dynasty. However, it doesn’t go as expected and I end up in opposition to Hwi, my dearest friend.

--What things did you pay attention to when creating the role?

WDH: Since it’s a period drama, it was difficult to get used to the way of speaking and tone of voice. It took me a while to get the hang of it. Now  I have the opposite problem, I’m doing my best to shake off the historical tone (laughs).

--The gorgeous hairstyles and clothing were a sight to behold.

WDH: Honestly, at first I thought “Long hair probably won’t suit me…” (laugh). So early on, I participated in many concept meetings and tried out different hairstyles. Even with long hair, there are many different hairstyles that can be made, such as wearing with armor or tying it up. I collaborated with the director to choose the most suitable style according to the situation in the drama. I was able to try on as many outfits as hairstyles, but I really enjoyed being  able to wear the special costumes such as the armor and the inspector’s garments; things we normally don’t get the chance to wear.

--How did you practice horseback riding, swordsmanship, and archery?

WDH: Before filming started, I studied martial arts for about two months. Filming lasted nine months, so in total I was focused on this work for a whole year. While filming action, it’s important to skillfully capture the scene, but the most essential thing is to not to get hurt. For that reason, the cinematographer, my co-stars, and I always had to be in perfect sync. It took time to match movements for the sword fights.

--You became the topic of much discussion when you revealed your magnificent physique in a waterfall during the opening of the drama. What are your secrets for managing your fitness?

WDH: I train on a regular basis. If I only started working out when I knew there were going to be scenes with skin showing, it’d be stressful trying to build up my body in a short period of time for shooting. After all, I don’t know when or where I will have to strip down for a scene! (laugh) Usually I play a lot of soccer, and I’ll go to the gym to train if I have time. If I take care of myself properly as a habit, then I don’t need to worry if my body looks good or if I should put in more effort during acting; I can just concentrate on my performance.

--Was the director’s reaction a good one?

WDH: He was extremely happy, hahaha. They keep trying to make me take my clothes off, so I was like, “Come on, give me a break!” The road to the filming location for the waterfall scene was rugged and steep and it was incredibly cold; it was the most difficult scene. Se-jong even said “I never want to go into water that cold again”.

--A lot of viewers said that “Nam Seon-ho is the most pitiful man in the world.” How do you personally feel?

WDH: I wanted to present Seon-ho as a tragic figure, so I was glad that the audience saw him the same way; it encouraged me to put in even more effort and I worked hard to build up his character. Seon-ho constantly stands on the boundary between life and death, living a life where he might die at any moment. He never manages to accomplish any of his dreams, and it is only at the very end that he realizes what is most precious to him. However, even though Seon-ho is a tragic character, if we just focused on the sadness the drama would be hard to watch and it wouldn’t be interesting at all. Therefore I wanted to show many things with him, such as him being a powerful figure, and the loneliness his power hides.

He was able to finish the drama because he was with Se-jong, his co-star of the same age.

--At what points did you sympathize with Seon-ho?

WDH: There is always a conflict in Seon-ho’s life in that he always has to sacrifice something in order to get something he wants. Seon-ho’s situation is an extreme case, of course, but I think that in our lives there are many moments like his, even if they are small and trivial. Moments when we desire what we can’t have, or throw away things we shouldn’t throw away. There are also moments when we all have to give something up for the sake of a goal that we are reaching for.  In the midst of that, I worried about the things that I should protect, so I deeply sympathized with Seon-ho, whose ideals and emotions were in conflict with each other.

--Your portrayal of the character’s emotions was well-received. When was Seon-ho the most emotional?

WDH: It would be when he heard that Seo Hwi was alive. I had a deep rapport with Se-jong in all my scenes with him. From a certain point onwards, the events in the drama truly felt real, and I fell more and more in love with Se-jong (laugh). I deeply empathized with Seon-ho’s emotions, which made me want to perform even more intensely in this work.

--Concerning expressing emotions, are you the type to do a lot of preparation beforehand? Or are you the type to perform what you feel on the spot?

WDH: I think I am half-and-half. Beforehand, I’ll think, “So we’re filming this kind of scene today”,  why is this happening, and what was the situation before this scene? However, it’s difficult to continuously hold onto emotions because there are rehearsals and blocking out our positions with the director. So I will concentrate on creating the emotion in the moment when acting.

--And what about your mutually dependent relationship with Yang Se-jong, who played the role of Seo Hwi?

WDH: I believe it would have been very difficult if Se-jong hadn’t been there. I relied on him a lot. The make-up room was set up in a large van onsite, and while our hair was being done, we would go over our lines. If one person said their lines, then the other person would just naturally respond with their own lines. We are the same age, not just in the drama but also in real life, so in both the Goryeo and modern eras, we were always communicating well, back and forth.

Se-jong always helped me, and even though we were together on location for very long periods of time, not once did we fight or have a conflict of opinion. We spent our time together as good friends, always being considerate of each other.

--There were many scenes of Seon-ho and Hwi’s friendship that brought out tears, but was there a particular scene where you especially felt the friendship between the two?

WDH: All those scenes where we rescued each other. Especially that scene in the latter half, where Hwi took Seon-ho out of Yi Bang-won’s (played by Jang Hyuk) house; that was memorable. Then in the first half, during the massacre of the Liaodong Punitive Expedition advance party, there’s a scene where we cross swords in the midst of combat and I recognize my dear friend Hwi. That scene was very good and had a big impact.

--What is your impression of Seolhyun (AOA) as Han Hee-jae?

WDH: Seolhyun was truly a “celebrity” to me (laugh). She is one of Korea’s top idols; I’ve seen her movies. When I heard that she would be co-starring with me, I was very much looking forward to it. Once we were actually performing together, I was amazed that her acting was even better than I expected. Seolhyun was the youngest on location, but she had a very mature attitude during filming. In front of a large crowd of her seniors, she played a bold and strong woman. I was impressed.

--The antagonism between Seon-ho and his father was one of the highlights of the drama. How was it like to co-star with Ahn Nae-sang, who played the role of your father?

WDH: Ahn Nae-sang sunbae was like a real father, a very interesting person. Although he’d say “Seon-ho is an impertinent son” (laugh), he worked well with me, and did a lot for me. During breaks, he tells jokes and lightens the atmosphere on set, but once filming starts, his gaze radically changes and he becomes a terrifying father. He’s not someone who hands out advice left and right to juniors, rather, he is a person who reacts kindly and looks after us. 

Extremely jealous of Se-jong’s Japanese fanmeet

--What are your thoughts on successfully wrapping up your first historical drama?

WDH: I wore hanbok, long wigs, and armor--I got to experience all of these things for the first time. I’ve also never done things like swordsmanship, archery, or horseback riding, so each one of those was a new challenge. Because I have never lived in that time period, I worried about how I should portray it. Despite that, I enjoyed everything. The remote locations that I visited were very beautiful, and during breaks it was a wonderful experience to enjoy the scenery and watch the seasons change instead of sitting in the dressing room. I’ve heard from my seniors that once you’ve done one historical drama, you’ll want to do another, and now I know what that feeling is like for myself.

--What was the most memorable location?

WDH: In the opening scenes, I often went to the countryside, but first I filmed the waterfall scene and the cliff scene. That cliff scene was absolutely terrifying. I scaled the cliff and did the action scene, but I thought...I might actually die if I fall (strained laugh).

--Watching the behind-the-scenes footage, you seem the quiet type but at the Japanese fanmeeting, I feel that you were skilled at speaking onstage. What is your actual personality?

WDH: Do I look like someone who doesn’t say much? I’m definitely not the talkative type, though. Hahaha. I talk a lot when I’m with Se-jong, but the interesting thing is, how much Se-jong and I will say changes depending on the day. On some days Se-jong speaks more than I do, and on other days I won’t shut up (laugh).

--Since filming continued for about a year, was it difficult to break free from the role of Seon-ho?

WDH: Honestly, I wouldn’t have thought about Seon-ho without today’s interview. However, Seon-ho’s sword is in my living room, so whenever I see it, I’m going to remember (laugh). But because I can’t use historical speech in the drama that I’m currently filming, I try to forget as much as possible.

--Currently you’re in the middle of filming the drama “The King”, right?

WDH: In “The King”, one person plays two different roles. The show depicts parallel worlds. In one world, Lee Min-ho sunbae plays the emperor and my character, Jo Yeong, has been by the emperor’s side since childhood and is the captain of the Royal Guard. In the other world, I am Jo Eun-seop, a social service worker whose personality is the complete opposite to Yeong’s. I’m having a lot of fun filming this, so please look forward to it.

--What does “my country” mean to you?

WDH: I believe it’s the people around me. I have family, I have friends, and I also have colleagues. A life where I can live happily with all of them, that is my dream country, I guess. No one goes on without desire, so I want to live together while caring for each other.

--You’ve been called the “Monstrous Newcomer”. With this kind of recognition, do you feel pressured?

WDH: I’m always under pressure. However, I tell myself I can’t lose to it, I have to work harder to overcome it.

--Finally, a message to your Japanese fans.

WDH: 2020 was the year I definitely wanted to meet all my Japanese fans, but filming for “The King” started earlier than expected and hasn’t finished yet. I was incredibly jealous when I heard that Se-jong held a Japanese fan meeting at the end of 2019. When “The King” finishes, I would like to meet you all. Until then, please take care of yourself and be happy. I will do my best to finish my work and greet you in good form. If you haven’t seen “My Country” yet, I definitely invite you to watch it.  I also hope you look forward to “The King”.

You can direct fan mail to:

KEYEAST / 30, 11-Gil, Hakdong-ro, Gangnam-gu, Seoul 06042 Korea

#woo do hwan #my country the new age #mctna #japanese translation #interview #韓国TVドラマ #the king eternal monarch #tkem

[tosikoarts]

SFW Alphabet | Tsurumi Tokushirou

Wow, this one seems to be the apogee of my writing.  You can check tosikowrites tag for more. Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Finally, a man who knows what he is doing. Tsurumi is a sly devil but he also got a taste of love, and those two points combined made him a danger to anyone he puts an eye on. The entire 7th division holds their breath watching how skillfully First Lieutenant pulls the unsuspecting victim into his snares.

Understandably, his main weapon would be the art of word. Tsurumi knows how to keep dialogue entertaining; moreover, he is well versed in complimenting his favorite person. He murmurs sweet nothings into their ear in public and in private, under the sergeant's condemning gaze and right under the nose of the jealous Second Lieutenant. Tsurumi does it wisely though, avoiding Usami’s uncontrollable obsession.

Gallantry is his middle name. As soon as they appear on the horizon with a bag or a stack of heavy books, Tsurumi miraculously finds himself next to them taking all of their stuff in his hands. Always accompanies them on the way home, from time to time pleases them with a small bouquet of lavender, moves the chair away from the table so that they sit down. At the same time, his gestures and moves, all looks natural like Tsurumi has been born with it.

Oh, also, he likes to spoil his loved one, pamper them without any limits. If they want to take a picture together, he will hire a western artist to paint a portrait of them. If they want a bar of chocolate, he will order to find the best dessert chef in Hokkaido. This is not his constant behavior, but Tsurumi quite often goes over the board with his affection.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Let’s be honest, to be best friends with Tsurumi you have to be at least no stupider than him and, better, even a little bit smarter. Otherwise, he will treat the person like another pawn in the game. Mind is a measure of strength, and those who are weaker than him do not deserve more than condescending attitude.

His best friend has to be patient and steadfast as a tin soldier: the hole in the head and lack of a brain piece deprived the First Lieutenant of poise so he is prone to outbursts of unwarranted violence. He may jokingly threaten to bite off their nose. Likewise, he may introduce them to the general madness of his division in the face of Usami or Nikaidou. They just have to deal with the crazy without going bonkers themself.  

In addition, they have to have a wide range of interests or be willing to learn new things. Tsurumi is the one to offer to go to horse race, win (or lose) some money, and, without delay, go to the nearest theater. His broad knowledge in various areas makes it possible to boast in every possible way on every possible topic and he expects his best friend to keep the conversation going. Of course, his favorite topic is war and weapons so they must be familiar with it.

The advantages of friendship with this remarkable individual are: respect in all circles he is in; initiation into his plans or most of them; life will seem a lot easier than before since obstacles become suspiciously fewer…

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He has a weird desire for them to look into his face while cuddling. To be mentioned, Tsurumi takes off his enamel head plate in private and it works like a magic: his expression transforms into one of person who has been gone for too long, who was yet to see the horrors of Russo-Japanese war. So, Tsurumi likes to keep them on his lap, hands placed on their thighs or waist, and talk, talk, talk. For some reason avoids spooning: if they try to spoon him, he will slip away from their hands, turn around, and plant a gentle kiss on their forehead.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

It’s complicated. Considering his past with Fina, the whole idea of settling down evokes the unconscious resistance in Tsurumi. Grand plans for hidden gold are the one thing that interests him at the moment, or this is what he convinced himself in. Even in the case of having the most suitable partner, Tsurumi will choose treasure hunt over binding relationship. Same goes for children. His henchmen are his kids, his hellhounds, his creations that he nurtured with distorted version of love and adoration. It is unlikely that he has even a little healthy parental affection left. Great at making desserts, mediocre at cooking overall, doesn’t care about cleaning and leaves it to the partner.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Break-up can go different ways.

In the best case scenario, Tsurumi acts like a gentleman until the very end. On the designated day, he invites a partner to a quiet place and makes sure nobody disturbs their conversation. Even if it happens in the barracks, all soldiers are strictly ordered to stay away from the First Lieutenant's office. There are two cups of a soothing herbal tea on his table as well as dessert associated with them. In calm steady voice Tsurumi explains why they have to break up and how it would be inevitable in the future if they choose to stay together for little longer. In the end of his speech, they feel almost like they initiated this break-up and Tsurumi just conducted their thoughts like his own. It is harmless and easy break-up with no hard feelings after all.

Other options aren’t that innocuous. He can easily make up a kidnapping scheme to remove them from the sight. It may or may not be violent, may or may not leave them traumatized. In the worst case, Tsurumi with heavy heart will give the order to eliminate them and hide all signs of their existence. It is a pity that one cannot erase the marks left on him and his life.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As mentioned in the previous paragraph, formalizing a relationship is far from the first thing on the Tsurumi’s To-Do list. His partner can try to hint at marriage but he will either completely ignore it or adroitly dissuade them from such stupid undertaking. In a relationship, he remains faithful despite the absence of some fictitiously important pieces of signed paper.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Well, even if he is gentle in any variation, this gentleness carries a sadistic undertone. Tsurumi’s physical affection borders on pain and it is impossible to tell if his vulnerable moments are a theatrical performance or not. He can laugh endlessly, kiss their fingertips and bare knuckles, purposely tickle their neck with his long eyelashes or handlebar moustache but the very next second a predatory grin distorts his face, sending thing in darker direction. Only God knows what is going on in his head, really.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

A truly romantic hug so often shown in films and described in books: his hand rests on their waist, pulling them closer, and other hand catches theirs as if in a slow dance. Each time the distance between him and his partner becomes less and less, but what remains constant, it is a subtle smile and piercing gaze of dark eyes. When in a cheery, exclusively friendly mood, Tsurumi likes to give the partner a tight bear hug or a short greetings-like hug with resting his chin either on their shoulder or on the top of their head.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes years for Tsurumi to say “I love you” out loud. About 3-4 to be exact. Either because he cannot call his feelings real love, or because he does not want to let them ease off. Confession imposes the stamp of some kind of completeness on the relationship and it isn’t fun at all. In his speech, the magic three words are replaced by softer analogues like “I really like you” or “Aren’t you my sunshine” so his partner does not put much thought to why Tsurumi avoids confession. Oh, one hundred percent the day he finally chooses to confess will be an anniversary date. Expect a day dedicated solely to satisfaction of his partner’s desires.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Oh no no no, please, we don’t have that much space in the cemetery. Flirting with Tsurumi’s partner is like playing Russian roulette with five bullets in cylinder – highly lethal game of chance. After spotting unlucky admirer, Tsurumi tries to identify them and dig up as much information as possible. Their fate depends on it. If it's some kind of midge, a cockroach, First Lieutenant forgets about this situation pretty fast. He doesn’t want to deal with such squalor anyway. If this is a more serious figure, Tsurumi may want to teach them a lesson how rude it is to encroach on someone else's love. Probably pulls a couple of strings to get them into some kind of trouble. Get them fired, discharged, robbed, assaulted, whatever. At the same time, he doesn’t even mention them while talking to the loved one.  

Provoking Tsurumi to jealousy is just as dangerous. His actions are not as radical as in the first case but his partner will have to learn that this is not an acceptable behavior. It is hard to imagine how far he can go though, methods may vary from simple manipulation to straightforward psychological abuse. The latter is the last and the least appealing option, which Tsurumi won’t use unless he is forced to.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Sometimes you just wonder where he learned all these tricks with his tongue. Tsurumi is a playful skilled kisser with excellent flair to where and when to apply fine knowledge of French... technique. Bites are not uncommon either. He has a habit of marking his loved one so everybody around knows who they belong to, and at least one hickey has to flaunt on their neck to keep him satisfied. Tsurumi prefers to kiss his partner wherever they want to be kissed, especially if they ask nicely, and to where to be kissed… a straight line from razor-sharp cheekbones to the notch between the collarbones is a great start.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Stranger’s kids are terrified of Tsurumi. Little ones burst into tears as they notice his wide smile, and those who are a little older stare at him with confusion. Teens try to stay away from this man since he fits the stranger danger statement very well. Thus to say, Tsurumi isn’t fond of being near children and prefers to pass the buck to the subordinates. If we are talking about his own (highly hypothetical) kids that is another story: they get the best of the best, they are spoiled rotten just like his partner. Of course, as kids grow up, Tsurumi switches to the carrot and stick approach spoiling them only as a reward for good behavior. Not that bad around children, really. It's not his fault that he fits the description of Boogeyman.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

On rare days when Tsurumi decides to spend the day with a partner, he never rushes. Those mornings are complete opposite of his usual mornings: they are slow, lazy, maximally filled with intimacy. No one is in a hurry to get out from under the blanket and if his loved one tries to sneak out, Tsurumi deftly catches them by the waist and drags back. I think it is clear that he is immensely touchy in the morning hours. The rest of the time is spent in a kitchen over a cup of green tea, in lively conversation on a variety of topics. No, he is not going to leave the house until the late noon.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Get ready for experiments and new experiences. Have they ever tried horseback riding? No? Good, he will be their teacher. Calligraphy? He will help to put their hand on a brush correctly. Nyotaimori or nantaimori? He will ask either Koito or another twunk to serve as a model. Tsurumi presents every evening date as a surprise that will not leave one indifferent and still he somehow manages to not overstep the bounds of decency. When their mood doesn’t fit his own adventurous impulses, the choice falls on a more classic pastime like late night walk or dinner date but there is not much that can be said about it.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

His partner won’t hear a bit of personal information, a single bit, until Tsurumi is one hundred percent sure that they are here to stay. Until then, he will feed the partner common unremarkable phrases which cannot compromise him in any way. Even after this, a lot of uncertainties remain: Tsurumi seems to describe events only in positive or neutral light, avoiding situations that obviously carry a grim implications. For example, not a word will be said about Fina or Olga and even if partner witnesses him fiddling small bones in his fingers, Tsurumi will make some fable up. Revelations happen but it is not something they will have a chance to get used to.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Easily angered but pulls himself together in the blink of the eye. His malice usually spills out in a form of nervous thrill so it is rare to see Tsurumi screaming his lungs out or getting into a fight. In a relationship, he puts on a mask of an eternally patient partner so his loved one won’t even guess about his anger issues.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Liar is obligated to have a great memory, do you get where I’m coming from? Now only he remembers what his partner has to say but also somehow knows what they hide from him too. If the information seems to be of low priority, Tsurumi immediately forgets it. Like what is he supposed to do with the fact that theirs first dog was called Akira? Best of all he remembers theirs crucial ups and downs both to establish the emotional connection and have some control levers in the future.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Difficult question. Not any of “first experiences”, not anniversary. Probably, the first time he introduced them to the group of closer soldiers like Tsukishima and Co. For the first time Tsurumi decided to “show off” his partner in the headquarters just to establish a clear boundaries between himself and subordinates. Of course, he was well aware of the risks and consequences but chose to do it anyway. The reaction of some was quite expected: Koito's face expressed unpleasant surprise and qualm, he couldn’t switch back from Satsuma dialect and when it finally happened, there were more awkward pauses than comprehendible words; Usami screwed up his eyes as if he was evaluating a competitor simultaneously deciding on the best method to eliminate them. Nikaidou didn’t really cared. Kikuta did neither. Tsukishima’s reaction was the most adequate of all: he politely bowed, mumbled words of courtesy, and got back to his routine. However, on the way to the office he decided to warn them that lovely Tokushirou might differ from their expectations. At the end, Tsurumi was extremely pleased by the flaunting and gave them opportunity to choose how he will thank them for the shown patience.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Tell me, who in their right mind would want to provoke this man? Like, who? His very presence is enough to scare any foe away, not to mention how lethal his overprotectiveness can be. Tsurumi is great at managing resources to make sure his partner is okay: there is always an armed invisible observer in the city they are staying in, sometimes they are sent letters in which Tsurumi takes interest in how their days are going, etc. On the other hand, in moments of real danger, his subordinates are those who take care of his loved one: soldiers are obliged to protect them since Tsurumi usually holds a leading position rather than actively participates in the dirty work. Has no need to be protected, however, partner’s impulses to do it are always met with tender emotion and sincere drawling “aww”.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Tsurumi has an enviable ability of being seemingly the most caring and charming man in the world without even trying. He is natural in wooing, it feels like the whole world is on his side: if he forgets to buy a present for the anniversary (which never happens, may I assure you), a hurrying seller will be selling cute necklace at discount price. Whenever he decides to go to another city with his loved one, there will be a festival or celebration. To be fair, Tsurumi does put efforts in the relationship and keeping his partner happy. He just has it easier than most of your common men.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His own motives and desires will always be prioritized over his partner’s. It is reality that they just have to deal with. If his partner feels confident in enough, they can try to fight Tsurumi with his own weapon - flattery, ruse, and equivalent exchange, - but success still entirely depends on his mood.

Military career implies long partings with the risk of never seeing the partner again. For the person who cannot live without their loved one’s physical presence, relationship like this will feel like living hell.  

To mention something more lighthearted, Tsurumi is constantly surrounded by subordinates that have questionable… adoration towards him. It asks for deep dive in military psychology, workplace psychology, and additional peek into sexual psychopathology but you get what I mean. Usami gets off talking about how First Lieutenant will be upset with him and, probably, will punish him, okay.

Tsurumi is shady man overall, damaged both physically and emotionally, he is missing a piece of the brain and it is already a long list of reason why one should think twice before getting in with him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Tsurumi actually cares for his looks. He takes his time to shave the moustache and goatee just the way he wants it to be, thoroughly washes the hair twice a week, keeps the head plate clean by wiping it with wet cloth and disinfecting with alcohol. The main reason of his concerns is desire to look presentable and influential, not a banal narcissism. Does the face scar bother him? When there’s nothing to occupy his mind – yes. Tsurumi understands how drastically it changed his overall look and sometimes regrets what happened but what is the point of overthinking unalterable? Right, there is none.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Break-up is a huge deal in the sense that Tsurumi's reaction could be anything. Unpredictable. Up to monstrous consequences. The safest option would be drop everything and run away since he won’t chase them to the end of the world. Yes, he would feel betrayed and fueled with anger but whatever, it is not the most important thing on the agenda. Sooner or later their paths will cross again and it will be the chance for Tsurumi to show his disinterest. You know, this “I am a bad bitch, you can’t hurt me” style. Direct confrontation leads to a passionate interrogation on why they decided to leave. Is there anything he can do to prevent them from such imprudent step? Does their relationship lack anything? This conversation quickly escalates into preparation of feelings during which Tsurumi scrutinizes all their ins and outs. If they successfully survive this psychological torture mixed with all kinds of manipulation – congrats! – they are allowed to leave. Now he has left his mark on them, on their heart and soul, so they have to carry it wherever they choose to go.

In the case of their death, Tsurumi grieves. How does a man like him grieve? Through sublimation, of course. To stop thinking about the time spent together, he pays more attention to treasure hunt. Tsukishima unobtrusively plays the role of a First Lieutenant’s personal therapist, listening to his pensive monologues, but it doesn’t make any difference. Just like his Sergeant, Tsurumi has difficulties with experiencing repeated loss, and second time feels even worse than the first one.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Remember this clear liquid oozing from under his head plate? It is actually сerebrospinal fluid that provides mechanical and immunological protection to the brain. Constant leaking of CSF leads to a condition known as orthostatic headache: this type of headache intensifies while person is standing and eases when lying down. Tsurumi has extreme headaches after his excited leaks that are usually weakened by general thrill. Once agitation excitation wears off, he becomes incredibly irritable and searches for a quiet place to lie down. The one person who knows about such side effect is Tsukishima. He has saved a dozen of lives already by preventing fellow soldiers from talking to resting First Lieutenant.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He has specific requirements for his environment and a list of traits its members have to lack.

For example, curiosity did kill the cat. People by his side should not pry into his personal business unless they want to get bitten. It is dangerous for them, for Tsurumi, and for plans he has built, so his partner has to either be incurious or keep themself in check when it comes to bunch of stuff.

Freedom-loving and willfulness are the worst enemies of manipulator, no wonder that First Lieutenant looks for someone submissive. Guess, for those achieving high ranks, powerplay is an integral part of social interaction.

Ah, but at the same time, lack of personality makes Tsurumi yawn. Such people do not provide the kind of entertainment he is looking for and it is natural for him to overlook them in the crowd.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Sleeps suspiciously well for a person who bites people’s fingers off. Brain injury left him dreamless for the rest of the life so as soon as Tsurumi’s head touches the pillow he immediately goes into a deep sleep. His sleeping schedule is nothing special too. Obeying the laws of army life, First Lieutenant wakes up early at the same time very day and goes to bed no later than 10 pm. Lies on the belly with arms straight up along the body. Without the head plate, obviously.

With the advent of a permanent partner in his life, Tsurumi’s sleep became more restless. Now he feels way too energetic, tosses and turns in bed, and cannot find a comfortable position in the bed. Since most of the time they still sleep apart (he has a reputation to maintain, blah-blah-blah), Tsurumi has to take a walk to blow off steam and get rid of swarming thoughts. Sometimes it does not help at all so he rushes to their house hoping to find peace in their arms. And so it happens. Tsukishima has almost come to terms with the frequent absence of the First Lieutenant in the mornings. However, Koito is not that happy about it and keeps bothering sergeant with questions to which he has no answer. Poor young man.

#golden kamuy #tsurumi tokushirou #golden kamuy headcanon #golden kamuy imagine #tosikoswrites

[crowleyellestair]

Could you write a Geralt x healer!reader where she is tagging along with Geralt & Jaskier. Over the time she has spent tending to his wounds and on occasion, saving him, Geralt begins to develop feelings for her but he doesn’t understand them (obvs) so he pushes it aside. But on one particularly awful part of their trek, she falls through some ice and plot twist! He has to save her now. The terror he feels when seeing her so close to death makes him realise what she means to him🥺

AN// Had fun writing this!! Let me know if you want a part 2!

Masterlist

 Jaskier was the one to convince Geralt that she would be a great asset to their team. The Witcher could hear the bard’s voice ringing in his head as he sat there in silence. His chin was laying on his clasped hands that were propped on his knees. Geralt hadn’t left that spot in roughly a day and he was willing to stay for as long as he needed to. He scolded himself, hating that his mind replayed the bards voice on loop.

“The Dynamic Duo turned Terrific Trio,” was said with as much gusto as Jaskier could muster. Geralt had rolled his eyes at the comment, but didn’t disagree. Jaskier was known to leave him for periods of time to focus on monopolizing the music community in any given area. Geralt had just assumed at the time that the same would be said for Y/n. He knows now that that was a fatal mistake.

He had been convinced she wouldn’t be a burden as their first encounter had involved her saving him. It was a ‘wrong-place-worst-time’ scenario that she had quite literally walked into. Y/n had left the apothecary through the back door and into a skirmish that was forced onto the man. Some radical townsfolk had thought it wise to try and pick a fight with the ‘abomination’ known as Geralt, and normally he would have been fine. But it was seven against one in hand to hand combat. Geralt couldn’t use a weapon to dispatch them, as that would fuel the rest of the town to take arms against him as well. He had taken out five, but the sixth member was really sucking his attention.

The woman had walked into their fight, the ruffian pushing her out of the way and onto the ground. Geralt gave a look, showing that using force against her had pushed a moral line of his. He laid a hit directly on the man’s nose, and he stumbled back far enough for Geralt to turn to finish off the last man. Y/n had regained her bearings, and noticed the sixth wasn’t completely taken care of. He quietly stalked up behind the Witcher, pulling out a small shive. Geralt had taken care of the last man, but she knew he wouldn’t turn fast enough to catch the aggressor. She jutted her leg out in front of the radical, effectively tripping him. He let out a loud gasp and he threw the knife rom his hand to safely catch himself. Geralt had finished him off before giving a silent look towards her.

They had stayed there in silence for a moment, Geralt breathing heavy and looking down at his surprise savior. She rolled her eyes before pushing herself off the ground.

“No, thank you for needing help.” Her hands went down to pat the dust and dirt off her pants. She let out a soft curse as she swung her satchel forward, taking inventory and praying none of the vials had gotten broken. Geralt just watched with a quirked brow before releasing a mechanical and awkward,

“No, thank you?” Her gaze snapped to him, giving a genuine, humor filled smile.

“You’re welcome. Safe travels.” She gave a halfhearted, friendly salute before walking away. Jaskier had pushed himself from his hiding spot, clearly and loudly criticizing the warrior.

“Geralt, that was plain rude. Even a cute girl can’t get you to show gratitude. You truly are lost sometimes.” Geralt had given a displeased, guttural noise in response.

 They had met again when he was given the task to liberate a small camp from a horde of wraiths. It was a few towns over, about a month from when they first met. He had been outnumbered tenfold, and when it seemed that he was exhausted and losing, a loud crash could be heard. His amber gaze raked the floor, finding four broken vials and a material quickly going airborne. He held his breath, but the odd shimmer was all too familiar. At first, he was impressed, thinking it was the bard who had come to aid, but when he turned to find the woman from before, he was taken aback.

His surprised gaze was met with an expecting one, and when he didn’t move, he finally heard the melodic voice that he couldn’t let go since the first encounter.

“Are you going to finish them off, or did I throw those in vain?” He had shifted immediately into action, swinging his sword and delivering fatal blows. He had sheathed his weapon as she approached with two empty vials in hand. She crouched down, gathering wraith dust in them, before straightening and meeting his gaze again.

“Why are you here?” He was confused at her innocent gaze and gesture to the vials. She had shown knowledge of dispersing dark creatures, and yet, she stood before him with purity in her eyes. She shrugged as her nonverbal reply didn’t receive a continuation of conversation.

“I didn’t think there would be twenty, I thought there would be like two. I was planning on using the bombs, pierce them with my sword, then collect the remains. I need it to help relieve a boy who caught yellow fever. I’m a healer, you see.” He gave a hum of acknowledgement and he started to walk back into the direction of town. When she followed, he gave only a questioning side glance. “Well, we both need to get back to town, so why not walk together? I didn’t catch your name before.” It was a fib, as she had heard Jaskier that day, but she wanted to hear him say it.

“That’s because I didn’t give it.” He was being honest, but quickly felt a tinge of guilt, as the phrase is usually used in a dismissive and rude context. She scoffed, and he gave her another side glance.

“Okay, that’s a little much. Heroes shouldn’t be shown such an attitude, but I’ll let it slide, Bartholomew.” Geralt fully looked to her, eyes furrowed. She matched his gaze with a playful smile. “Well, I need to call you something. Especially since it seems like you are my personal ‘damsel in destress’.” He looked forward, but after a moment, a quiet “Geralt,” passed his lips.

Her smile grew and gave a curt nod of content. They walked in a comfortable silence back to town, Jaskier waiting for his friend right outside of the tavern for his friend to return. When his gaze fell on Y/n, he looked to Geralt and smirked.

“Well, if it isn’t the lovely lady you failed to fully thank from before.” He grabbed her hand, bringing it up to place a kiss on her knuckles. “Let me give you thanks for him- tenfold because of the delay.” She laughed, but Geralt was surprised to find the usual blush women had to the bard’s tactics was missing from her cheeks. It seemed to him that she genuinely found Jaskier’s attempts funny. She dropped her hand, and smiled.

“Charming, but I’m going to have to pass.” She gave a polite and small bow to the bard. She turned to bid them a farewell, when Jaskier’s voice shrilled out of worry and surprise.

“Geralt, you’re hurt- how’d you get hurt?” Y/n’s gaze shot up to meet the man’s, before looking him over. Her brows drew in confusion, but she then stalked to the other side of him and lifted his arm. Her brows flew and her hands started pressing and prodding, trying to assess the damage. Gently dropping his arm, she gripped his wrist.

“Follow me back to my tent, I can patch you up.” She looked down; her next expression spoken in a hushed tone. “Why didn’t you tell me after I mentioned I was a healer?” Geralt threw a glare at Jaskier who shrugged, but returned a stern look. When Geralt looked back to the woman, who was solely absorbed in his injury, his gaze slightly softened.

She had never marveled or spat at the fact that he was a Witcher. Anyone who dare call themselves a healer knows about Witchers. They were born of magic, science and pharmaceuticals and revolutionary to the world of alchemy. Nothing she said was ever borne of awe or disgust. The only things to fall out of her mouth were friendly jests and inquiries. Even Jaskier wasn’t passive about Geralt’s true nature.

And since they first met, he hadn’t forgotten those facts.

So, when he caught his gaze softening, he was confused. This was the second time they had met, and the man had already lost self-control over his expressions around her? Geralt thought it uncomfortable, to say the least. His gaze hardened again, explaining,

“I don’t need help. I’m a Witcher.” Her gaze shot back to his again with an unconvinced and uncaring look.

“I can see that. The wound is deep- I won’t make you pay if that’s what you’re worried about.” That too confused him more, making him try to dissociate from the situation.

“I heal faster than humans. I’ll be fine.” He watched as she rolled her eyes and dropped his writ. Y/n planted her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest.

“Fine. I am looking to hire a Witcher to escort me back to my tent. As I am a healer, the only payment I can give is tending to wounds.” He squinted his eyes, the only reaction he could muster from the confusing emotions swirling inside.

“I decline. There is no danger here.” She leaned in, matching his squint with one of her own.

“I heard wraiths were running rampant in these parts.”

“Luckily for you, I just took care of the horde. You should be safe getting to your destination.”

“Unlucky for both of us, you didn’t let me finish. I heard men were also quite despicable here, just like every adjacent town. I heard you had a run in a month ago, so you should understand where a simple woman, like me, is coming from.” Geralt was impressed- and so was Jaskier for that matter. He didn’t know how, but this was definitely worming its way into a song or poem.

 Geralt hadn’t known that, when she successfully convinced him, he would be convinced again and again for the following year. After Jaskier’s suggestion on their third run in, Y/n stayed with the boys to travel. Geralt often gave up his bed roll for her or let her come along to hunts without argument only because he just did. He simply let it happen. He didn’t know why or when it started, but he never thought about doing it when he made these decisions. Geralt seemed to stop thinking when she was around, and all he had left were his instincts. It seemed to him that instincts said to bathe her with temporal affection. He hadn’t tried- no, hadn’t wanted to dwell on the meaning behind the instincts. He had reflected on how it never got to the extreme level it was at, ever with Jaskier. And he was sure Jaskier would be jealous if he really knew how much Geralt spoiled Y/n, in his own way, of course. The only other person to make him have this effect was… Yen. But he constantly thought about his feelings with Yennifer, and how if they did stay together, it would be too toxic. It would implode at any second, and Geralt didn’t have the inner strength to go through that.

Time and time again, Y/n saved Geralt in more ways than one. She would help out when he found himself stuck in battle, she would tend to his every wound, and she would keep him company even if all they did was sit in silence. He had just assumed that this was the making of a true friend, and he never dwelled on it passed that line of logic.

The trio had split up earlier in the week, Jaskier staying in Aar Carraigh. Y/n was planning on travelling to Aedd Gynvael, a fort close to Kaer Morhen, so they could continue traveling once winter had passed. The fort wasn’t too far past Kaer Morhen, so Geralt had offered to escort her there safely, especially since the terrain was treacherous. It was only a week into winter, but since they were so far north, ice and snow covered everything the eye could see. The only way to the fort from Aar Carraigh, where they had dropped the bard off, was to pass over Gwenllech River.

It was complete ice, and the crossing bridge was too far out of the way to get to in a timely manner. The two were doing great until something hit the ice from under them.

“What could have possibly done that?” Y/n’s tone was short and tense. Her arms were held out for balance, and her feet splayed. Her eyes were pinned to Geralt, who was trying to decide what it was. Sadly, he couldn’t come to a conclusion.

“It doesn’t matter. We only have a couple feet left.” She nodded and took a step towards the other side. The ice ratted again, and to keep her balance, she had to slide back, out of Geralt’s reach. From this pressure from under, the ice began to crack. Geralt knew he’d be fine on his own, but Y/n would need to carefully pass over the unsafe terrain. While he was confident in her, he wsn’t confident in the surface. He couldn’t pass to help her as one pass could break the ice, and they wouldn’t be able to get back over. Or, if it was structurally sound then, both of their weight passing over it surely would send them into the water. Gwenllech wasn’t known to be a passive body, and there most likely was a fierce current.

It seemed to the Witcher that Y/ had realized she was on her own by the look of terror on her face. She swallowed hard and looked down to the cracks. Geralt reached an arm out in a comforting way while trying to meet her gaze.

“Look to me, and only me. It will be easier that way.” She nodded with her eyes closed and took a deep breath. Her eyes, which the Witcher had grown quite fond of, instantly found his. She didn’t lift her feet off of the surface, slowly and gently making shuffling movements to close the distance.

Geralt hadn’t blinked- he wouldn’t dream of breaking the eye contact, but in a second she was gone. His gaze dropped just a hair too slow to find her body disappearing under the ice. Luckily, she had known to throw her arms up, instead of trying to catch herself. He was there in an instant, his hand piercing the water’s surface, and grasping her outstretched hand. He pulled her out as fast as she went in, but it was enough to have the ill of winter set in her bones. Being closer to Kaer Morhen, he simply brought her there.

Eskel would pop in every hour to check on Geralt in his quarters, but Geralt refused to leave the room. So, they sat and chatted, the brunette trying to get the significance of the girl out of the ashen haired one. Geralt saw Eskel as a brother, but he had yet to figure it out himself, only telling him it was complicated. Lambert had caught that end, pestering him, trying to understand if it was like the Yennifer situation.

Geralt had felt sour discussing the witch with Y/n in the room. The only emotion he could pin it closest to would be guilt. But why would he feel guilty? It wasn’t lost on him that she went out of her way to tend to Geralt’s every need. He was sure that if he were to receive a paper cut, she would still give him full treatments. Y/n had a pure heart, treating everyone to the best of her abilities, but it had never reached the level it had with anyone else. She would help Jaskier with blisters and callouses from playing his lute for too long, but he knew that if Jaskier would receive a paper cut, she would probably jest, and go they’d all about their day. Jaskier knew this too, constantly giving him nudges and suggestive shoulder or brow raises when Y/n would do something that qualified as ‘cute’. And it wasn’t that she hadn’t done something that qualified as that because she did- every damn day, just by being herself.

Friends could think the other is cute, dote on their every movement, and instinctively give them all the other had to offer, right?

Right?

Fuck.

 When Y/n had woken up, the first thing to catch her eyes were the wall to wall decorations. Different skulls and pelts were found littering every space of them. She would most likely find it off putting if her senses weren’t being berated by her favorite scent: Geralt. It was leather, metal and celandine flowers. Most wouldn’t assume that from a Witcher, but he was constantly around them as they were ingredients for a lot of the potion’s Y/n would make for him. They didn’t have an overbearing or really distinct scent; she was only familiar since she worked so closely with it. Y/n wouldn’t have it any other way, being convinced that no other scent would match him best.

When she shifted to her elbows, her eyes continued to inspect the place. She sort-of jumped in place when she spotted the crown of white hair at the base of the bed. Geralt hadn’t been facing her, and had settled on his knees to meditate. She felt bad, assuming this was his room. The only place he ever really considered a permanent home. And she was taking up his bed. Y/n pushed out to find that she wasn’t wearing her clothes. A Geralt-size shirt hung low enough to cover her small clothes. A blush crept up her neck, and she looked to the bed. The only disturbance was where she left from the middle of the bed. There was a mountain of blankets and a fire raged in the corner of the room in a small hearth. The moments before her passing out rushed to her, and it all fell into place.

Walking in front of Geralt, but a few paces out of reach, she called to him. She had learned that touching him or being too close alarmed him, as all he could process was something disturbing him. And while he didn’t have a ‘swing first, ask questions later’ mentality, it would still be jarring.

His amber eyes opened to her, and it immediately raked up and down her form. She thought she made it up when she heard a faint grunt of approval, but he small smile that graced him when their eyes met, told her otherwise.

Y/n felt her stomach drop when his smile wiped from his face. He felt that twinge of guilt again seeing her tense, but it suddenly came across Geralt that somehow, he would have to tell her his feelings.

Fuck.

 Part 2 is up - Called Geralt's Problem

#geralt of rivia #geralt #witcher imagine #witcher x reader #geralt x reader #geralt imagine

[land-of-classpects-and-analysis]

Knight of Heart

There are so many different ways in which the concept of an identity, the self, who we are as people can be interpreted. While many try to put this concept of an identity into a binary, a system, a set of rules meant to be followed, there is truly no proper way to simply exist. The soul cannot be perfectly summarized with the symbol of a heart, a ghastly spirit, or anything of the like. It is far more complex than that, especially when taken to an individual basis. Even if two people were to have the same name, the same gender and/or sex, have similar lives and stories to tell, there will always be something that will make these two people unique to who they are. Many of us are often born with a handful of preset traits, a preset appearance, a living situation, so on and so forth. Many of us are, but there are some of us where, as soon as we are born, it’s as though who we are meant to be was determined before we even had a name. A babe who has only been truly alive for 20 minutes may have already made newslines, or been given a label with a destiny attached that they couldn’t even begin to comprehend. As the child grows and becomes more aware of reality, they would come to realize that not many people actually truly know or see this child for who they are, but what destiny they have been so selfishly thrown into. They never asked to be given this title, these expectations to live up to, but they have no choice. To go against such a thing is to risk being put under scrutiny and endless criticism, judgement, being told that they are wrong and selfish for not being happy about the way their life has been formed. The Knight of Heart is one who may have all the building blocks necessary to have an identity, but it is not one they wish to have.

It is through this scorn for their preconceived identity that the Knight of Heart’s facade will grow. While many Knights tend to lean more towards facade than the other, the Knight of Heart is one where, due to their near constant identity crisis, they are one of the Knights who has many, many masks to put on and take off as they see fit. Around certain people, they may be the cool dude who doesn’t allow anything to get to them. Then, around different types of people, or in different situations, they may be aggressive and vicious to a certain extent, snapping their jaws and snarling at anyone who manages to get beneath their thin skin. Of course, there are many more facades for the Knight of Heart to put on, such as the generous friend and leader, the rebellious yet caring person, the self-centered crude soul who is still somehow popular, and so on. The reason for this is due to the fact that since they reject the identity already presented to them, they are so desperately trying their best to find and cling to another one, all the while accidentally creating so many masks, facades, and splinters of themself that, at the end of the day, they may look themself in the mirror and ask the constant burning question - who am I? What the Knight of Heart falls to see is that, while the building blocks for their identity have already been made to create a brick-wall, the only person preventing themself from turning it into a true piece of art is themself.

While this may sound as though the Knight of Heart is meant to break down that wall, this is only partially true. Really, what the Knight of Heart is meant to do with this wall is make it into something that fits them more than it fits those who tried to box them in. Going around and making all of these facades is not doing any real damage or bringing any change to these walls. Rather, it is far more akin to a child beating their fists and kicking their feet against a wall while throwing a tantrum, or them plugging their ears, closing their eyes, and pretending that if they ignore the walls aren’t there, then they’ll somehow manage to be outside of them. That is not the case, though, no matter how hard the Knight may try to defy the expectations set forth by them. In the end, all they are doing is hurting themself, when the solution to their problems is easier than it needs to be. Knights are known to be rather stubborn at times, unfortunately, and the Knight of Heart is not exempt from this. One of the biggest things the Knight of Heart truly needs to realize first and foremost is that while this cage of rock may have been made by those on the outside, the only person keeping the Knight of Heart inside of it is themself and their fear of not ever being able to withhold a true and solid identity outside of these walls.

Despite some of their facades not being the prettiest, the Knight of Heart is still someone everyone in their life would find charming in one way or another. If anything, it could be argued that perhaps, out of all the Knights, the Knight of Heart is one of, if not most certainly the Knight who brings the most attention to themself. After all, they have so many versions of themself, that they most likely will be able to pull off a performance for any type of person. However, it is because of these constant ever-shifting states of identity that only help to enable and enforce this jumbling of identities, pointless rebellion against who they are, and so on. However, maybe the Knight of Heart surrounds themself with all these diverse, interesting, radical people so that somehow, someway, they may find an identity that is not like that of the one they still remain trapped inside of - like that of a circus animal. All the while, the Knight must also take into account those above them, looking down in anticipation, brimming with hope that the Knight will eventually clean themself up and accept their predetermined destiny. No matter how loving their home may be, how wealthy and well-off their life is being built up to, all the Knight can focus on is that the person they are expected to grow up to and the footsteps they are meant to follow will never fit just right to the Knight. Yet no matter what they do, how hard they try, who they pretend to be, they still have to come home and be the child with a grand and important legacy on their head. 

Of course, it is only when the time finally comes for the Knight of Heart to step up and do something with themself, their identity, that all they have worked towards will begin to come crumbling down. All the thin threads holding them together will snap, sending them crashing down into a state of confusion and despair. There are many ways in which this awakening, the beginning of the Knight’s journey, looks like. Perhaps they were finally caught up in all of their accidental, or maybe even purposeful, lies, and they could do nothing to save or protect themself from all of the rubble that would come crashing down upon them. In another case, they could have been called upon into action for a certain situation, specifically one where they might have had to sacrifice a piece of themself for the betterment of everyone, but instead ran away to save their own skin. Maybe they were asked to officially, undoubtedly defy their parent(s) and their wishes in some fashion, swearing themself fully to one identity while also throwing away the legacy, the building blocks of their identity, they were meant to follow; whether they go through with it, though, once again depends on the Knight of Heart. The cause for any of these downfalls would ultimately be the Knight becoming entangled and strangled by all their facades and the changing morals surrounding them. Not just that, but the Knight, even in these dire moments, has still not found a way to either break out from their internalized cage nor how to get rid of the fear of becoming someone they are not. Even if the Knight were to become hurt from any of these scenarios, all it would do is make them want to push themself further away from the people around them. While being away from some people may benefit the Knight in pondering their actions and identity, what the Knight of Heart will ultimately need is to encounter someone just like them - confused, lost and scared of who they are, and who they might be.

Due to the Knight’s immense exposure to all types of different people, having lived through countless versions of who they can present themself to be, the Knight of Heart is one who already has quite a bit of a head start on their journey. For now, let’s pay attention to the Knights of Heart who will take these experiences and use them as a driving force to protect their Aspect itself. These are the Knights of Heart who would take the effort to truly go out and try their best to help out and lead those in their life towards their true identities. The Knight of Heart most definitely has collected a series of scarred and broken hearts over their time of life, whether they are from past lovers or the hearts of friends that have long since left them. In a way, the Knight of Heart may show that they don’t particularly care what happens to everyone else, especially in regards to their own Hearts. However, if someone were to confront the Knight on this, chances are that they would respond with genuine shock and confusion, claiming that they thought what they were doing was normal and wasn’t actually hurting anyone. Even if it did, they may also voice that they thought everyone could handle this sort of stuff on their own, silently or otherwise. Chances are the reason for this accidental yet rather harmful mindset is because this is the life the Knight of Heart has been living this entire time.

Constant doubt as to who they really are, if they are doing the right thing by rebelling against their parent(s), what it will mean years down the line when they have become older and still haven’t figured themself out. Even when the Knight of Heart seems to be at their most certain as to who they want to be and what they want to do with their life, there is still that deep, deep internal fear that they are making the wrong choice. After all, their life has essentially already been written for them, and it shows great promise of being a stable, risk-free existence. Why, then, do they feel the need to push it all away - to kick, punch, and scream inside of the four walls of identity built around them, forcing them into a box they never even asked to be put inside of? To simply put, it goes against what the Heart-bound stand for, and that is to build up a sense of self from the ground up. The Knight of Heart feels cheated on their identity, their legacy, who they are meant to be. That is why they have been so adamant in trying every way to simultaneously defy and fight back against authority while also trying to coexist with it. All this time, though, the Knight of Heart has been left blind to so many things about not only themself, but also the world around them.

Only after the Knight of Heart has been made aware of their instinctual selfish needs - lying and living not double, not triple, but countless other lives all while collecting the company of so many other people. While the Knight of Heart may have played the role of supporter in a few cases, there were just as many times where they played the role of the selfish, self-centered, and downright narcissistic. It is these negative facades of the Knight of Heart that many people who have been left with a bad taste call the Knight out for, pointing out how they only seemed to care for others when it would directly benefit the Knight more than the person actually in distress. How, even when the Knight seemed to care, deep down it was obvious they were only doing it for themself. While the Knight of Heart may want to fight against this, to deny all responsibility for such claims, they know it would not only make them look even worse, but may prove the other person right. At first, this may bring the Knight of Heart to truly move away from others, and instead only focus on themself - slowly lingering closer to an epiphany that would set them on the right foot of continuing their journey of protecting Heart. One of the biggest things the Knight of Heart would need to ponder and reflect on is the question of why they were so quick to try and shut down any criticism of themself and their actions - why they believe themself to be above it.

During this time of reflection, there is quite a high possibility that the Knight would become extremely upset with themself, once again finding themself pacing back and forth inside of their self-locked cage of concrete. It is within this moment of frustration, exasperation, that a stroke of realization would hit the Knight rather hard. All this time, the Knight of Heart has been trying to rebel against these walls built around them, looking upon them with scorn and hatred for what they represent. Yet, as this has been happening, they have failed to realize that everyone else has been having their own struggles, been trying to climb or break out of their own personal cages, all the while looking towards the Knight of Heart for help and assistance. What did the Knight of Heart do? Either nothing, willfully ignoring the struggles of those they may have thought of as friends, or shallowly used their suffering and struggles as a way to make themself look better. They may not be the only one who is dealing with these problems, but they are someone who is more than capable of giving the support that they never truly received.

Upon making this self-discovery, the Knight of Heart may find themself having a profound tidal wave of shame and guilt, as they realize that they truly have been nothing but a selfish “friend”. It may be a painful, large pill for the Knight to initially swallow, but it is a bitter medicine they so desperately needed to have. Through this self discovery, the Knight of Heart will come to realize that this isn’t who they want to be - they want to be a hero, not the bad guy. Chances are that it will be an uphill battle for the Knight of Heart from this point onward, especially if they do reach out to those who may have been harmed the most from the Knight’s accidental selfishness. Now, though, the Knight of Heart is someone who would strive to be the person to go out of their way to help and protect others who may be struggling to find themself. Most importantly, they would be protecting others struggling with this from being exploited and taken advantage of, their identity possibly becoming twisted and tainted if the Knight were to not step in in time. They are someone who would learn that the walls built around them, given them a basis for their identity, are not meant to be hated. Rather, they are not just walls meant to keep the Knight of Heart safe from any outside influence, but they are the perfect canvases for the Knight to build a strong, sturdy identity.

As for the Knights of Heart who protect through their Aspect, their journey is a rather interesting and peculiar one. After all, the basis of their power is that they essentially protect others through their own Heart, soul, identity, and so on. Yet the Knight of Heart is one who has spent so long defying their one, true identity, who could they possibly protect through it? To answer it quick and simple before delving further in, the Knight of Heart would realize that, while they may not particularly enjoy the label, destiny, and identity forced upon them, they will make no progress in life if they continue fighting. Therefore, who is truly stopping them from using it - exploiting this identity of privilege for all it can offer - in order to protect those who are in a far more desperate situation than the Knight? The longer answer is one that will, obviously, go far more in-depth as to why and how the Knight of Heart came to make this conclusion. Let’s dive into that, shall we?

From the complete and utter fallout that the Knight of Heart would encounter - whether it is between friends or family - they would be met with the ultimate, burning question that most, if not all Heart-bound face at many points in their life; is who they are now really the person they want to be? This may take the Knight of Heart a long time to answer, or it may take them only a day or two, but no matter what the end will most likely be the same for many of the Knights of Heart. That answer is no. Being viewed as a heartless, selfish person is not what the Knight of Heart wants, but for many people who have made their own truth of the Knight’s identity and intentions, there is not much the Knight can do in order to fully change their minds. At least, that’s what the Knight of Heart may believe at first - that what’s done is done and there is nothing they can do to fix themself nor how people see them. For some Knights of Heart, this is where they are most likely to throw in the towel, continuing to live a life of confusion and heartbreak for the rest of their years, or at least until they have finally given in to their pre-set identity. For the ones who wish to persist, to prove those people wrong and show that they are more than just what the walls around them will show, they might only take a little while to stew in their feelings before they manage to realize the true solution to their problems.

Rather than succumbing to the expectations of those around them, the Knight can instead take hold of their one true identity and learn how to use it to their advantage. They were given a privilege one way or another, and while they may have tried to push it away, hide from it, separating themself as best as they can. However, all it did was create a wall between them and the blade they are meant to wield - if they even want to take up the opportunity to be a true hero in the first place. While they may still have a few issues with their identity, the strongest of these Knights of Heart are the ones more than willing to lean a little more towards their privilege, if only so that they may protect others. At first, some people may still take this as the Knight trying to make themself look like a noble person. Maybe other people, especially those in authoritative positions, might see them as continuing to try and be rebellious. The only thing that ultimately matters, though, is that the Knight of Heart knows their own intentions are good and pure. They have taken an identity that they swore to never settle on, never make their own, and instead turned it into something they can slice away foes with and protect those in need. In a way, by exploiting this identity, twisting it into a form it was not originally expected to be made into, as well as becoming a protector of those who are not as privileged as them, the Knight of Heart has done exactly what they wanted from the start - they have made their own identity, but still managed to do so with the one already made for them.

The Knight of Heart is one who began their life with many people putting them under scrutiny, placing the Knight into a neat box with four walls closing them in, always being too high for the Knight to ever truly climb over. At first, they would see this as a cage, a box, something meant to keep them quiet and obedient as they marched onward towards a destiny they never even asked for it in the first place. Because of this, the Knight of Heart would grow hatred for the box they were put into, and begin to make a complete mess of their identity - their box. They would punch and kick at the walls, trying to break them down so that they can finally escape it, all the while crafting and perfecting all different types of masks for them to wear when amongst various groups. The Knight of Heart didn’t want to be known as the heir(ess) to a big corporation, the offspring of some famous soul, or the person with more money in their wallet than anyone could ever dream of having. What they really wanted was to be seen as a friend, a guardian, a sibling, a normal person who does good because they want to. For many years, they may succeed in pulling off this facade of just being a normal person, but as many of us know - nothing lasts forever.

It is the reveal of their true, despicable self that would bring on the charge for the Knight of Heart to truly bring about the beginning of their journey. Being discovered as not only someone who has great privilege, but also someone that bears so many masks that the lines between genuine love and theatrical performances becomes blurred. Questions begin to fly, as well as accusations and perhaps even a few punches, and before the Knight of Heart knows it they are placed under the gaze of judgement and scorn once again. “Why?” they may ask themself, “Why can’t I just be happy with who I am?” While these types of questions may bring the Knight quite a lot of grief, pain, and confusion, it is this one simple word that will often be the driving force for why they would continue down the path of their journey. It is these questions of “why” and “who” and “what” that will push them onward, bringing them closer and closer to their ultimate goal of becoming someone worthy to wield their Aspect like that of a shield, so as to protect those who do not have the privilege of walls being fortified around them, or that of a sword, honing in on their Aspect sharply and acutely enough that it has no choice but to become as fine, thin, and deadly as a blade.

The Knights of Heart who protect their Aspect, especially in regards to the threat of it being exploited, are the ones who involve themselves far more in the lives of those around them. Having realized that the walls around them were meant more to protect not only themself, but more specifically their own identity from being taken advantage of by others. While it may have been frustrating and perhaps even downright painful and/or humiliating for the Knight to have realized how foolish they were to believe those walls to be a prison of identity, as long as they stick to their path of self reflection and discovering who they are, then they will come to learn that they are not the only person whose identity is at risk of being exploited and twisted. Not only are they not the only one who is at risk of such a profound, personal danger, but that they have the better mind to be the one who helps to protect those that were not fortunate enough to have those walls around them and their identity. The Knights of Heart who protect their Aspect are the ones willing to become those walls - to shield someone still trying to figure out who they are from any negative outside influence. Some people who knew the Knight before their awakening may be skeptical of their reasoning to protect these people. However, as long as the Knight is loud and makes it be known that they have learned from their mistakes and realized their privilege, deciding to use their wisdom as a means to protect others who need and want it, that is all that truly matters. Someone who has spent so long pretending to be so many different identities at once, only for their stage to come crashing down - it only seems fitting that they would find their own identity amidst trying to help others find their own. That identity is that of a protector and leader, at least for more personal issues.

The Knights of Heart who protect through their Aspect are ones who went on a far more personal journey, and their powers speak greatly of it. They are the ones who saw the devastation brought on by their accidental selfishness, all rooted in their desire to escape those walls - their identity. All this time spent trying to make the perfect identity, the perfect mask, when really they had their answer there all along. Rather than push and hide away from their privilege, they were meant to embrace it in a way that would not only benefit them, but benefit everyone else they cared for and loved. Chances are that it may take the Knight of Heart a long time for them to fully approach their Aspect, as well as their own identity, if only because they still hold some disdain for it. Most Knights have friends there to help support them in removing their facade(s), but not the knight of Heart. They have already put enough stress and brought enough harm to those they love, and so they have dubbed this journey one that they should go on alone. Once they manage to complete their journey - wherein they realize that their privilege and their entire self is something that everyone can benefit from - the Knight of Heart will finally be able to remove their sword from their Heart, being able to wield their soul like that of a weapon. They know how to use their gifts as a way to protect others, and they are more than willing to step in and be the one to do so. Not only that, but they are someone who would most likely be willing to protect through their own physical self, along with their more spiritual and metaphysical one. Because of this possibility, these Knights of Heart might be one of the most dedicated Knights in their efforts of protection and servitude to their friends and allies.

In general, the role of the Knight of Heart is one far more personal and close, especially when it comes to how they interact with their group. As long as someone is willing to forgive the Knight for the wrongs they did in the past, then the Knight would be more than happy and willing to throw themself in between that friend and an enemy if the need were to ever arise. They are the one you can trust in sharing your personal problems and endeavors, especially if it is something that involves your own identity. Despite their track record of living many different lives and identities, it is because of these deceptions that the Knight of Heart is capable of helping others find their way and their own path. They would try to keep their friends and allies on the right path, asking them the same question that they asked themself for many, many nights: is this really who you want to be? Who you want to be remembered as? As long as the other party is willing, then the Knight of Heart will more than happily take these lost and confused souls and bring them under their cape, discussing with them the ins and outs of the soul and how, really, there is no real, substantial, binary way to go about it. Your identity is how you want the world to perceive you, but it’s also how you wish to recognize yourself when you look into the mirror. Not only that, but they are the people who will stand up for those who don’t have a voice, or they will happily give a platform for those people to have voices. When someone they love and/or know can’t protect themself is in trouble, the Knight of Heart will often be the first one to charge in, using themself - in one way or another - as a way to protect those in need. If given a chance, whether it it is the first or even fourth time, the Knight of Heart is someone who can prove themself to be not only a great friend, but a truly dedicated and witty protector.

#Knight #Knight of Heart #Homestuck #Hiveswap #Knight of Heart Analysis #Heart Aspect #Noble November #Heart

[fremedon]

It’s almost Yuletide! This will be my 18th Yuletide! My first Yuletide story will be old enough to vote this year and I have some mixed feelings about that! But also I have never missed or defaulted on a Yuletide since, and I have to say I feel pretty proud of that. I am still pretty far down the Les Misérables rabbit hole (speaking of which, it is not too late to propose programming for Barricades!), and unsurprisingly all the fandoms I'm nominating/requesting this year are set in July Monarchy France--Les Mis canon era: Petit-Cénacle RPF, Champavert: Contes Cruelles | Champavert: Immoral Tales - Pétrus Borel, and Les Enfants du Paradis | Children of Paradise. Petit-Cénacle RPF The Petit-Cénacle was a French Romantic salon, slightly younger and considerably more politically radical than the Cénacle centered on Hugo and Dumas; it included painters and sculptors as well as writers and critics, and most of its members at least dabbled in both written and visual arts. Its best-known members today are Théophile Gautier, Gérard de Nerval, and Pétrus Borel (the Lycanthrope)--the last two are thinly fictionalized in Les Misérables as Jean Prouvaire and Bahorel. (It's debatable how much Grantaire owes to Gautier but it's probably a nonzero amount.) The group coalesced around Borel and Nerval as the organizers of the Battle of Hernani--a fight between Romantics and classicists at the premiere of Victor Hugo's play Hernani in 1830. Most theater productions at this time had claques--groups of paid supporters of a show or an actor, who were planted in the audience to drum up applause. For Hernani--the first Romantic work staged at the prestigious Comédie-Français, which broke classical norms so thoroughly that it no longer seems at all transgressive--Hugo and the theater management decided they were going to need more than just a claque. They recruited a few of Hugo's fans--Gautier was so star-struck he had to be physically hauled up the stairs to Hugo's apartment--to stage An Event. The fans recruited their friends. They showed up in cosplay, with the play already memorized and callback lines devised. It was basically the Rocky Horror Picture Show of its day. It almost immediately turned into an actual fight, with fists and projectiles flying. And it made Hernani the hottest ticket in Paris. This is the group's origin story, and they pretty much spent their lives living up to it. They were every bit as extra as you would expect--Nerval allegedly walked a lobster on a leash in the Champs-Elyseés, explaining that "it knows the secrets of the deep, and it does not bark"--but they also stayed friends all their lives, often living together, supporting each other through poverty and mental illness and absurd political upheaval. I'm nominating Pétrus Borel | Le Lycanthrope, Théophile Gautier, Gérard de Nerval, and Philothée O’Neddy; you could nominate other people like Jehan Duseigneur, Celestin Nanteuil, or the Deverias, or associates of the group like Dumas and Hugo. The Canon Gautier's History of Romanticism covers the early days of the group and the Battle of Hernani in some detail. (There is also a 2002 French TV movie, La bataille d'Hernani, which is charming and pretty accurate; hit me up if you want a copy.) Other than that--this crowd wrote a lot, and they're all very present in their work--even in their fiction, which is shockingly modern in a ton of ways. For Gautier, Mademoiselle de Maupin has a lot of genderfeels, surprisingly literal landscape porn, and a fursuit sex scene in chapter two. If you want Nerval's works in English, you might be limited to dead-tree versions, but I highly, highly recommend The Salt Smugglers, a work of metafiction that answers the question, "What if The Princess Bride had been written in 1850 specifically to troll the press censorship laws of Prince President Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte?" Borel's experimental short story collection Champavert has a new and very good English translation by Brian Stableford and is also my next fandom :D. Champavert: Contes Immoraux | Champavert: Immoral Tales - Pétrus Borel Last year I requested Borel RPF but I decided this book was unfanficcable. This year, I am going to have a little more faith in the Yuletide community. Champavert, available in ebook and dead tree form, is a weird as hell little book and probably the best thing I read last year. It's an experimental short story collection from 1830. Someone on one of my Les Mis Discords described it as "a collection of gothic creepypasta, but the author is constantly clanging pots and pans together and going 'JUST IN CASE you didn't notice, the real horror was colonialism and misogyny all along and i'm very angry about it!'" And, yeah, pretty much that, with added metafictional weirdness, intense nerding about architecture and regional languages, and the absolute delight that is Borel's righteously ebullient voice. Borel wrote for a couple of years under the name of The Lycanthrope, and though he kills the alter ego in this book, the name stuck, and would continue to be used by friends and enemies alike all his life. Pretty much everyone who met Pétrus agreed that 1) he was just ungodly hot; 2) he was probably a werewolf, sure, that makes sense; and 3) he was definitely older than he claimed to be, possibly by centuries, possibly just immortal, who knows. But, like I said, he kills the alter ego in this book: it begins with an introduction announcing that "Pétrus Borel" has been a pseudonym all along, that the Lycanthrope's real name is Champavert--and that the Lycanthrope is dead and these are his posthumous papers, compiled by an unnamed editor; the papers include some of Borel's actual poems and letters, published under his own name. The final story in the collection is called "Champavert, The Lycanthrope," and is situated as an autobiographical story, following a collection of fictional tales--which share thematic elements and, in the frame of the book, start to look like "Champavert"'s attempts to use fiction to come to terms with events of his own life. And that's probably an oversimplification; this is a dense little book and it's doing a lot. The subtitle is Contes Immoraux. It's part of a genre of "contes cruelles" (and, content note for. Um. A lot), but it's never gratuitously cruel--it's very consciously interrogating the idea of the moral story, and what sort of morality is encoded in fables, and what it means to set a story where people get what they deserve in an unjust world where that's rarely the case. I'm nominating the unnamed editor, Champavert, his friend Jean-Louis from the introduction and the final story, and Flava from the final story; you could also nominate characters from the explicitly fictional stories. Les Enfants du Paradis | Children of Paradise This is a film made between 1943 and 1945 in Vichy and Occupied France and set...somewhere?...around the July Revolution, probably, I'll get into that :D. There's a DVD in print from Criterion and quite possibly available through your local library system. (And it's streaming on Amazon Prime and the Criterion Channel.) It's beautifully filmed, with gorgeous sets and costumes and a truly unbelievable number of extras, and some fantastic pantomime scenes. (On stage and off; there's a scene where a henchman attempts to publicly humiliate a mime, and it goes about as well as you would expect.) "Paradise," in the title, is the equivalent of "the gods" in English--the cheap seats in the topmost tier of a theater. It's set in and around the theaters of the Boulevard du Temple--the area called the Boulevard du Crime, not for the pickpockets outside the theaters but for the content of the melodramas inside them. The story follows a woman called Garance, after the flower (red madder), a grisette turned artists' model turned sideshow girl turned actress turned courtesan, and four men who love her, some of whom she loves, all of whom ultimately fail to connect with her in the way she needs or wants or can live with. This sounds like a setup for some slut-shaming garbage. It's not--Garance is a person, with interiority, and the story never blames her for what other people project onto her. Of those four men, one is a fictional count and the other three are heavily fictionalized real people: the actor Frédérick Lemaître, the mime Baptiste Deburau, and the celebrity criminal Lacenaire. Everyone in this story is performing for an audience, pretty much constantly, onstage or off: reflexively, or deliberately, or compulsively. Garance's survival skill is to reflect back to people what they want to see of themselves. She never lies, but she shows very different parts of herself to different people. We get the impression that there are aspects of herself she doesn't have much access to without someone else to show them to. Frédérick is also a mirror, in a way that makes him and Garance good as friends and terrible as lovers--an empty hall of mirrors. He's always playing a part--the libertine, the artist, the lover--and mining his actual life and emotions for the sake of his art. Baptiste channels his life into his art as well, but without any deliberation or artifice--everything goes into the character, unfiltered. It makes him a better artist than any of the others will ever be, but his lack of self-awareness is terrifying, and his transparency fascinates Garance and Frédérick, who are more themselves with him than with anyone else. Lacenaire, the playwright turned thief and murderer, seems to no self at all, except when other people are watching. Against the performers are the spectators: the gaze of others--fashion, etiquette, and reputation--personified by Count Mornay; and the internal gaze personified in Nathalie, an actress and Baptiste's eventual wife, who hopes that if they observe the forms of devotion for long enough the feeling will follow. The time frame is deliberately vague--it's set an idealized July Monarchy where all these people were simultaneously at the most exciting part of their careers. In the real world, Frédérick turned his performance of Robert Macaire into burlesque in 1823, Baptiste's tragic pantomime Le Marrrchand d’Habits! ("The Old-Clothes Seller") played in 1842, and Lacenaire's final murder, for which he is guillotined, is 1832; these all take place in Act II of the movie within about a week of each other. (Théophile Gautier, mentioned but tragically offstage in the film, was a fan of Baptiste; Le Marrrchand d’Habits! started as Gautier's fanfic--he wrote a fake review of a nonexistent pantomime, and the review became popular enough the Theater des Funambules decided to actually stage it. It only ran for seven performances.) I am nominating Garance, Frédérick Lemaître, Baptiste Deburau, and Pierre François Lacenaire. You could nominate any of the other characters (Count Mornay, Nathalie, the old-clothes seller Jéricho, Baptiste's father, his landlady, Nathalie's father the Funambules manager). Gautier, regrettably, does not actually appear in the film but you can bet that's going to be one of my prompts. So, that's one good movie you definitely have time to watch before signups, several good books you probably have time for and that are probably not like whatever else you're reading right now, and one RPF rabbit hole to go down! Please consider taking up any or all of these so that you can write me fanfic about Romantic shenanigans.

#yuletide #crosspost from Dreamwidth #petit-cenacle #champavert #children of paradise #les enfants du paradis #petrus borel

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 7

Once more, I arrive, with Midnight Striga in tow!! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!

Boyd was utterly bored. Groaning, he slung his knife, Radical Chop, over his shoulder, lightly kicking the twitching corpse next to him, one of Reticulus’ leftovers. Those were never fun to deal with, ‘cause they were already dead! What was the point of a killer guarding a corpse, instead of, you know, killing? Eh, maybe he could practice his mutilations, he had been getting a little rusty in that regard. Humming to himself, he slung the ragged body beneath his feet into an upright position; a girl from the looks of it, brown hair styled into three rings on the top of her head, her left eye gouged out, and missing her tongue. Glancing down he saw that her heart and stomach had been extracted. By his estimate, he’d say she was about 12, verging on 13. Ah man, he could’ve had such fun with her!

Sighing, he twirled his knife before pointing the tip towards her. The knife lengthened, stretched, and bent, contouring around the edges of her face, slowly and cleanly skinning off the layer of tissue. If only that eye wasn’t missing, then he could’ve added it to his collection! Ah well, better luck next time. While he was seemingly distracted, one of the nearby Witches decided to make a break for it, a boy whose hair covered his eyes and possessed rather bat-like ears. Without even glancing his way, Boyd’s knife shot out like a bullet, cleanly slicing through his throat in an instant. He didn’t even have a chance to scream, how boring!

“Stupid Witches, can’t even die properly.” He grumbles, flicking the boy’s blood off of his precious blade. “Stupid Reticulus, never leaving any good corpses to slice up.” He briefly wonders again as to why, exactly, he was being stuck with this stupid job. He was one of the Squadron’s best killers, so why were his talents being squandered? He mulled it over in his head, knife idly slicing through the girl’s corpse, when a creak drew his gaze forward. As the reason finally clicked, he deadpanned. He was being used as bait, and as a test; great.

Three kids stood in front of him, staring at him like he was some kind of fucking monster; to be fair, he was one, no doubt about that, but it was always so annoying when people looked at him like that. He briefly contemplated trying to figure out which one Reticulus wanted to test, but decided it would be more fun to just kill the little shits. Not like they really mattered anyway. The chunky girl with the glasses started doing that stupid circle thing they did to cast spells, can’t have that. His knife shot out, smoothly slicing through her wrist and across her face, stabbing through her eyes into the brain.

Before the other two could do more than widen their eyes, he struck again. His blade ripped through the neck of the Mint-headed girl, and wasn’t that a color, sending her head rolling. Before the smaller boy could even scream, the knife slammed through his skull, entering through one ear, and exiting out the other. Scowling, he called Radical Chop back to him. No trouble at all, not even worth the effort of being clean. He sighed, only for a familiar, sharp pain to rush through his body; he had been stabbed. Glancing down, he was both surprised and not to see a dagger driven into his gut, the angle allowing for it to be dragged into his other vital organs easily. He spoke up, perfectly calm in the face of his death. “You can drop the invisibility now.”

As the air next to him rippled and faded, he was pleasantly surprised to see another kid, her face carefully blank save the familiar rage in her eyes, the kind he saw in all the kids who saw him kill their friends. He smirked. “Gotta say, pretty cold of you to throw your friends into the grinder like that.”

The girl snorted, calling over her shoulder. “Gus! Drop the illusion.”

“Got it!” A young voice called out, the corpses of the kids fading along with the blood coating his precious blade, the kids from before shimmering into view, ready to pounce if things turned dicy for the kid stabbing him at the moment.

Boyd snorted. He had underestimated them. He gave the girl who had effectively killed him a smirk. “So, you’re the little rat Retic wants to test, eh?” He laughed at her furious expression. “If you’re looking for him, he should be up ahead, going over the latest batch of bodies. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Before they could blink, he whipped his blade, his beautiful Radical Chop, up to his head, driving it through his own skull.

Gus gagged, while Amity and Willow looked on stoically. It was certainly an improvement over Gus actively heaving and the girls shouting. It was to be expected, as this was the fifteenth kill by this point, though they had only gone for the stealth option when they saw how quickly he had killed that Witch trying to get past him.

Amity glanced down at the Witch the man had killed. She recognized him. “Hey, I think I know this one.”

Luz walked over, glancing down at the bat-eared boy, curious. “Really? Who is he?”

Amity shrugged. “I honestly don’t know him personally, but Skara was interested in him a little.” She sighed, knowing that she’d have to deliver the news to her friend. “I really hope she takes this well.” She glanced up at the feeling of a hand on her shoulder, seeing Willow giving her a comforting, if hesitant smile, which she returned.

Luz sighed. “Let’s go, we’ve still got to take down Retic if we want this to end.” The others nodded. Bracing themselves, they moved, ready for the fight to come, or so they thought.

Eda moved to Lily’s side, shaking her roughly. “Come on Sis, we don’t have time for this!” She cried, frantically gesturing to the crowd under attack. She bit her lip, tilting Lily’s head up. “Listen, Sis, I know we usually don’t see eye to eye, but if you can’t get out of your head, that crowd is going to die.” She thought she saw a flicker of light in her eyes. “You always said you wanted to be in Bonehead’s Coven to help people, well now’s your chance to prove it! Those people up there? They came here to see you, because they believe in you! Are you really going to let them down!?” She got down on her knees, pleading. “Sis, I need your help, as painful and ridiculous as it sounds, it’s the truth! Please!” She glanced back at Rudolph, who had paused, enjoying the show. The bastard was enjoying watching her beg for her sister’s help.

Rudolph snickered, and laughed. “It truly is amusing to see! Earlier, I had lamented your decision to keep the wretched thing alive, but I see now that I was wrong!!” He cackled, relishing the look of enraged confusion on Eda’s face, even as the crowd desperately fought to survive.

“What in hell are you talking about, you psycho!!” Eda growled, bracing herself to defend if necessary.

Rudolph gave her an ugly smirk, oozing amusement. “Simple. You may not have killed her body, but you certainly killed her spirit! She’s lost the will to live, I’d say!” He cackled, soaking in the look of dawning horror on Eda’s face, the soul-crushing realization of what her display had done, even if she couldn’t comprehend how.

“No.” Eda breathed out, slowly walking away from Lily. “That wouldn’t happen, not with her! She’s too strong for that to happen!”

“Is she?” Rudolph mused, genuinely curious. “Everything we’ve gathered has pointed to a woman with a rather fragile ego; seeing her baby sister showing her up once again must’ve been quite the shock.” He was amused at Eda’s denial; for all she claimed to be the strongest on the Isles, a statement not totally devoid of fact, she seemed to be a tad oblivious to the fortitude of those around her.

“Gathered…” Eda muttered, her eyes widening. “You’ve been spying on her!?”

“Oh her, the schools, the government, you, everyone really. We carefully staked this out ever since we arrived.” He placed his hands on his hips, looking pleased with himself. “I must say, we certainly displayed an impressive amount of restraint, building all of this up.” He shrugged. “Normally, we just come and kill everything and everyone we come across. It was quite the learning experience!”

“You…” Eda growled, pure hate coloring her voice. “Just who do you think you are!?”

“Why, my dear, I think I’m the one leading the attack on your people, at the moment at least.” Rudolph cheekily replied. “After all…

“... We are the ones who hold the power in this situation.”

Mattholomule silently cried behind a stand, the crazed laughter of the maniac out front still ringing in his ears. He had just seen a woman torn limb from limb by flying chains, her organs and blood splattered all about. Bria sat next to him, biting her lip, while Gavin and Angmar played Rock-Paper-Scissors to figure out what to do. That choice was taken from them, however, when a chain yanked Bria out of hiding, prompting the three to scream in fear.

“It is simply the way of the world, after all. The powerful thrive, the weak die. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Emira held in a curse, while Edric hyperventilated next to her. Two squads of the invaders had just finished corralling a group of kids into a corner. She closed her eyes, trying to tune out the screams, Edric silently crying next to her, as the Mages ripped the children apart in a hail of magic. Glaring daggers at the murderers, Emira paused, a plan coming to her. Whispering to Edric, who nodded firmly in agreement, the two slunk into the shadows.

“Why, it is only natural for those with power, namely us, to do with it as we- HURK!”

Reticulus loomed over a potential donor, their limbs spread by his veins, dislocated from his body and acting as ropes to bind and restrain his target. He licked his lips. It wouldn’t do for the fools to potentially damage his prize with unnecessary struggling, now would it? Just as he reeled back to rip his prizes from the worthless husk before him, his body registered the sensation of a blade digging into his arm.

“Just shut your fucking mouth.” Eda warned, the butt of her staff slammed into the sadist’s gut. Seeing his hands take on that icy glow, she raised her leg, slamming him back with a kick to the chest. “You don’t know anything about the people of the Isles!” She shouted, her eyes spotting Bump summoning some Abominations in the stands, directing them at Rudolph’s troops.

“You think just because you’ve got a lot of power, you get to throw it around, and we’ll just take it?” She countered his frost with a fireball, landing a cracking blow across his jaw. When Rudolph slammed his hands against the ground, summoning an encroaching sheet of frost, she ripped it away with a shockwave of magical force.

“Your resistance to the inevitable is growing irksome!” He yelled, forming a fang of ice around his hand, lashing out at Eda. She blocked his blow with her staff, grunting as he forced her back. Spines of ice formed along his arms, stabbing towards Eda. “Your people are a pack of sheep, blindly following the words of a false prophet in their inane desire for safety!!” He encased her wrists in ice, preventing her from casting, before slamming his forehead into her eyes. “You may well be the strongest on the Isles, but that title is as hollow as their leader’s words!” He slashed his blades at Eda’s sides, a cry of pain ripping from her throat. Unbeknownst to either combatants, Lilith twitched at Eda’s cries.

“I…! Have stood on my own two feet… my entire life!” Eda choked out, hands grabbing at the claws currently pinning her in place. 

“I do what I want to do, nothing more… nothing less…!” 

Bria screamed, feeling the skin of her arms and legs stretching from the chains pulling her in either direction. The pain was like nothing she had felt before. Angmar and Gavin were being pinned in place, metal blades pushing into their hands to keep them from casting. She was… she was going to die here. Tears came to her eyes at the thought.

The maniac tormenting her gave a demented giggle, gesturing for the chains to rip her apart, once and for all.

“Stay away from Bria!” A young voice shouted. The agent turned in shock, his casting forgotten, as a fist as large as his torso careened towards him, pulping his skull. Standing defiantly, was Matty, tears of rage in his eyes.

“But for all that I hate Bonehead… I love the Isles… and the people who call it home…!” 

With the plan prepped and ready to go, Emira glanced towards Edric. Grimly, she nodded, with him flashing a thumbs up in response. In perfect sync, the two yanked on the cords they had set up, releasing a colossal explosion of smoke into the groups of killers. Working in concert, the twins cast a spell onto the two groups. When their vision cleared, both groups saw the other as a squad of Coven Guards. Reacting to the apparent enemy, the two sets of invaders unleashed their magic upon each other, and in a matter of moments, all were dead. The twins dropped the spell, clutching each other in relief.

“So if you think I’m just going to stand back… and let you kill people because you feel like it… then you’re even crazier than you look!!”

With a scream of rage, Luz drove her blades into Reticulus’ eyes, while Willow used her vines to rip free the near-victim, Amity conjuring up her Abomination to cushion the fall, Gus using his Illusions to guide the way to the exit. Using his broad back as leverage, Luz pushed herself off of his body, landing in a crouch near the others, eyes glaring daggers at the hulking monster before them.

Rudolph scoffed, his humor long gone. “And did you forget that my magical frost builds up and hampers you further the more of it you are exposed to? Hmm?” He accused, eyes narrowed in contempt.

“Nope!” Eda gamely replied. “I just decided I hated the look of you more than I was afraid of dying against you.” Her cheeky grin turned daring, eyes bright with challenge. “Even if I die, I’ll have died fighting for my freedom. Give me your best shot, you two-bit bully.”

With a roar of rage, Rudolph reared back his arm, fully intending to skewer the arrogant Witch who dared to challenge his might! His eyes widened in surprise, however, when his attack clashed against a raised staff, brilliant aquamarine eyes glaring at him.

“Stay. Away. From my sister.” Lilith hissed.

#the owl house #fairy tail #owl house au #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #luz noceda #amity blight #gus porter #willow park #bria the owl house #angmar the owl house #gavin the owl house #mattholomule #principal bump #eda clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #emira blight #edric blight #magic

[midnightactual]

Critical Analysis & Tactics IV (CAT-4): Yoruichi vs. Soifon Part A

How strong is Yoruichi? That’s actually a very involved question. I’ve decided to create a series of articles detailing my thoughts on the matter by looking at military incidents and confrontations involving her. This is the fourth, and you may consult the others at your leisure:

CAT-1: The Hollowfication Incident

CAT-2: The Central 46 Trial Breakout

CAT-3: Yoruichi vs. Byakuya

CAT-5: Yoruichi & Soifon vs. Aizen

CAT-6: Yoruichi vs. Yammy

CAT-7: Yoruichi, Kisuke, & Isshin vs. Aizen

CAT-8: Yoruichi & Co. vs. Yhwach

CAT-9: Yoruichi vs. Askin

I’ve obliquely talked about this fight before (here) as it relates to Yoruichi’s disinclination to use her zanpakutō, but not in great detail. It says quite a lot about their respective powers and abilities, but to an even greater extent it reveals the exact nature of their relationship prior to Yoruichi’s departure from the Seireitei. These are all matters which I feel there are points of confusion and misunderstanding on by others. Given that, I’m going to give my own perspective on all these issues.

Since the is a long post, let me as usual put the basic conclusion here up front: this fight wasn’t particularly serious in terms of physical danger, as Yoruichi was hardly trying and Soifon radically underestimated her abilities. This fight is far more about psychology and mutual understanding of one another.

01. I’ve discussed this in the past (here), yet it bears not just repeating but additional emphasis: Yoruichi is at her absolute weakest ever during the Soul Society arc, as she herself alludes to in chapter 119:

She drops Ichigo like a sack of potatoes despite him being injured and slumps against the wall because she’s so winded, and openly comments on the fact that she’s wildly out of shape. It’s abundantly clear that she isn’t performing at anywhere near her previous or future maximum abilities during this arc.

02. Yoruichi’s attire also bears some scrutiny. Notice how she’s dressed above. She has on her stretchy pants, and we know from earlier scenes with Ichigo in chapter 116 that she’s wearing a turtleneck (plus you can see the sleeves poking out of her jacket). Also notice her footwear. All throughout Ichigo’s bankai training, Yoruichi is wearing shoes with integrated greaves. These appear to be flats based on the shoes she wore as a Taichō (and which Soifon still wears as one) but modified to suit her preferences. By the time she fights Soifon, however, her outfit has notably changed, as seen here in chapter 157:

The turtleneck has been replaced by the keisen shōzoku-inspired top, as she later reveals and which even here is evident from the lack of sleeves. The shoes have also been replaced with boots instead (which are capable of dispensing anken). She has cloth wrapped around her arms, and her shins are wrapped in gaiters. She only wears this variation on her outfit when fighting Soifon. (As seen in CAT-6, when she later fights Yammy, she’s wearing an outfit identical to when she trained Ichigo.)

In reality, gaiters largely exist to protect against scratching, puncture, or friction. The wraps on her arms are similar to puttees, and serve a similar function, while the remainder of her scarf functions like a neck gaiter. One might ask why she’d discard hard greaves for soft gaiters, and the answer is that their protective power is actually likely superior.

As noted in CAT-3, in chapter 117, Yoruichi completely halted Byakuya’s release of Senbonzakura using a cloth ribbon, and as noted in CAT-5, in chapter 177, did similar to Aizen. I would suggest that that cloth ribbon is special, and that her arm wraps, gaiters, and neck gaiter are made of the same material. I would also suggest so is her hair wrap, given it repeatedly survives Shunkō, to include her Raiju Senkei form where electrical Kidō is literally running through her hair. What this cloth material is and what its exact properties are remains unknown, but it seems incredibly durable. (Given it appears to be a tan color, it might not be related to the Ginpaku Kazahana no Uzuginu of Byakuya’s scarf, but it could be the same material but processed or treated differently, possibly explaining the immense value of that scarf beyond mere rarity.)

This assertion is supported by the fact that during the actual fight, in chapter 157, Yoruichi both takes and deals several blows to areas protected by these garments, suggesting they were made specifically for fighting with Hakuda:

A question becomes apparent at this point, which is: where did Yoruichi get this stuff? More than likely from the storage depot above the study chamber, which is likely where she also got the first outfit she used for this mission (since she obviously didn’t bring it with her to Soul Society given she came as a cat). In other words, I think it’s very clear that Yoruichi specifically equipped herself to fight against Soifon, knowing she would likely be dealing with Hakuda and might have to use Shunkō and dressing to compensate for her own weakness.

03. Yoruichi and Soifon’s reunion is very telling regarding how truly familiar they are with one another. Here’s how it starts:

I want you to pay attention to how close Yoruichi is before Soifon notices her approach. Part of this is due to Yoruichi’s speed, but remember: she’s not flash stepping at anywhere near her optimum, and would be conserving her energy heading into battle. Part of this is due to Yoruichi’s stealth, but remember: Yoruichi felt Renji’s ambient reiatsu approaching even at a notable distance through solid matter. Soifon doesn’t notice Yoruichi until the very instant before she’s tackled off of Kiyone. (The closing-in panel at top-left suggests the bottom panel is indeed Yoruichi’s own perspective, as she hits Soifon in the very next panel.)

But I want to make a point regarding reiatsu detection before proceeding: Shinigami who are very familiar with each other will naturally detect one another’s reiatsu at distances at which other, more powerful Shinigami won’t. An example of this is Rukia detecting Ichigo’s approach before Byakuya does in chapter 581, presumably due to the nature of Ichigo and Rukia’s bond:

And another example is Yoruichi and Yūshirō detecting one another at a great distance in the Soul King’s Palace in chapter 628, while not noting anyone else on either end, presumably because they’re related:

In other words, people with strong bonds should have a distinct advantage in identifying one another even if one part is moving quickly or attempting to conceal themselves. This suggests that Yoruichi and Soifon do not actually share such a bond, a point which will repeatedly be made over the course of their fight, but especially two pages later back in chapter 153:

Stop and think about their situation. Soifon can see the eyes and skin color of Yoruichi at this range, and likely also feel her reiatsu... and she still doesn’t recognize her. How many dark-skinned, gold-eyed people are there in the Seireitei who wear orange jackets and move quickly and stealthily? It’s worse than the translation here lets on, by the way:

The original Japanese here at the bottom-left is, “何者だ貴様!!” which translates to Romaji as “Nanimonoda kisama!!” Yes, that kisama. The literal translation would be something like, “Who are you, you bastard!!” I think Soifon calling Yoruichi “kisama” is all the proof you need to firmly establish she has no idea who this is, and doesn’t recognize it as Yoruichi until she hears her voice. I also think that reaction panel firmly dispels any idea that Soifon is acting and doing this just to insult Yoruichi, because this is a face of shock:

It’s very obvious that Soifon is surprised by the fact that she’s seeing Yoruichi again, despite all those visual indicators, which is... strange, and perhaps suggests something about Soifon’s powers of observation. Regardless, this can be taken in contrast with the next page, and Yoruichi’s reveal:

Which is surprisingly playful. Yoruichi isn’t stressed at all here, and remains fairly upbeat and comparatively unperturbed for the first section of the fight until Soifon tears the (breakaway?) sleeves off of her uniform. It’s pretty clear that Yoruichi doesn’t go into this fight expecting a hard slog, even if she took precautions with her outfit. Indeed, I would say she expected it to be merely a performance review.

The point remains: Soifon didn’t identify Yoruichi until well after they’d made contact, and past the point when it should’ve been obvious who was accosting her.

04. Starting in chapter 154, we’re treated to repeated scenes presenting Yoruichi and Soifon as equals:

This first panel makes it very clear visually, and that sets the tone for what follows.

It’s also echoed in the way that they trash-talk each other.

And also reflected in the visual framing of their exchanges; these panels are clearly designed to kind of ‘reflect’ one another. Take notice here of Soifon’s further trash-talking: she’s asserting that she was a better warrior than Yoruichi even when Yoruichi was her Taichō! How’s that for confidence? And it should tell you a lot about how Soifon looks back upon Yoruichi’s tenure, which we’ll get into later.

This apparent equity is also reflected in them trading hits. Yoruichi’s injury seems more grievous, given she’s coughing up blood, but Soifon doesn’t seem to regard it as a more notable injury than she herself suffered, nor does it actually impact Yoruichi’s performance any more than Soifon’s does her. (Nor will Soifon’s strikes with Suzumebachi seemingly do anything to slow Yoruichi down as the fight goes on.)

This sense of equity will persist right up until after Soifon reveals her shikai and starts to speed up, at which point she will reveal that she’s been “going easy” on Yoruichi and that (in her mind) they’re not equals.

I think it’s because of this rather thorough visual symbolism (and Yoruichi’s reactions of surprise as Soifon’s performance) that many people walk away with the impression that Soifon and Yoruichi are equal in performance, not just in this fight and this arc, but throughout Bleach. We already know, however, from (01), that that simply isn’t true: Soifon here at her maximum output can only just rival Yoruichi at her weakest.

This is emphasized by the fact that Soifon will go on to fail to score two consecutive hits with Suzumebachi on Yoruichi, and by the fact that we know (from her escape from Byakuya with Ichigo) that Yoruichi isn’t going all out with her flash steps here either. This is not only Yoruichi at her weakest, this is also Yoruichi fighting in a very conservative fashion. And Soifon still can’t take her out despite earnestly trying.

05. The motivations of both parties are rather plainly established. Soifon’s motivations are revealed by the panels above with her, “Which of us... is the better warrior?!” and, “Now do you see? I’m better than you!” remarks. This further emphasized by a panel in chapter 158:

Soifon is obsessed with proving she’s better than Yoruichi, and rubbing Yoruichi’s face in the fact.

Yoruichi, meanwhile, rather obviously turned up to see where Soifon was at in terms of her progression, as chapter 154 alludes to:

Yoruichi is there to see whether Soifon has filled her proverbial shoes. This shouldn’t be surprising as we know from Soifon’s flashbacks in chapter 159 that:

Yoruichi added Soifon to her bodyguard unit in the first place because she “[admired her] skills” and was “expecting great things from [her].”

In other words, Yoruichi showed up to see how Soifon had been getting on in terms of her skills for all this time, and seemed to largely expect a fairly casual encounter (although she was prepared for it to escalate). She wasn’t anticipating Soifon’s mindset and drive to actually try and kill her. Soifon, meanwhile, is resolute in her determination to punish Yoruichi for what she regards as having been abandoned.

Click here for Part B!

#Out Of Character #Long Post #Meta

[violetmuses]

Grey || Chapter 2

Dedications: @clints-lucky-arrow @mymagicsuitcase @mypoisonedvine @punemy-spotted

__________

2023

Helmut Zemo

“I was a God. I did what no other scientist since Erskine was able to do, but mine was going to be different. No clunky machines or jacked up bodies. Mine was going to be subtle, optimized, perfect.” Dr. Nagel held enough arrogance to proclaim so-called immortality. We learned as well that Nagel recreated twenty vials of the damn Serum before Karli Morgenthau had stolen those items. I kept scowling, eying his boxed lab with disgust. Across the room, James and Sam were still alert nearby.

“How have we never heard about this?” Sam reasonably questioned soon after lowering his own firearm. James still kept his weapon close, planning to threaten Nagel once more if need be.

“Before I was able to complete my work, I turned to dust. When I returned, it was five years later. The program had been abandoned, so I came here. The Power Broker was more than happy to fund the recreation of my work.” Nagel continued speaking, his voice low but still purposeful. I quietly armed myself after finding a gun tucked under one silver cart.

“Where’s Karli now?” Sam probed once more as expected, keeping calm despite our current situation of urgency. With each passing moment, I’d become restless, but knew better than to react before questioning truly gripped its strong point.

“I don't know where Karli is, but a couple of days ago, she called and asked if I could help someone named Donya Madani. The poor woman has tuberculosis and it’s a typical consequence of overpopulation in displacement camps like that.” Nagel offered more information and I still listened intently, despite holding the gun.

“What happened to Donya?” Sam then asked logically to volley himself back for this interrogation.

“Not my pig, not my farm.” Nagel acted smug once more, irking my thoughts again.

For a moment, I concealed my weapon and stepped towards him, eying Sam as he allowed me to move forward. If questioning by “good people” didn’t work, then there was a chance that I would be convincing here. There was no other choice.

“If you won’t reveal where Karli is, then perhaps you can tell me where this woman could be found.” I reached for one of my inner coat pockets and showed Nagel this personal photograph. My own heart dropped and raced all at once this time.

“You’re definitely behind the times with this picture, but I know exactly who that is.” Nagel laughed almost menacingly to himself while sitting in the chair. James and Sam stood in place with clueless expressions, but of course I did not care.

Another story for another time.

“Where is she?” I asked, nearly gritted my teeth whilst anger coursed through every vein within me now. James and Sam were still watching us both, but questions had surely crossed their minds as I changed subjects of this probe.

“Dionne Charles has hid in plain sight for decades now. You haven’t been paying attention.” Nagel clued to me, but remained vague. It took everything in me not to shoot, but his answers would've meant quite the breakthrough. I needed more.

“Is she here?” I snapped once more, patience finally growing thin.

“Maybe, maybe not.” Nagel shrugged. I back away, deciding not to pull the trigger yet.

“Back to business. Is there any serum in this lab?” James stepped forward and pressed the barrel of his firearm right up against Nagel’s temple.

“No,” Nagel allowed his voice to tremble as he reached the brink of death once more.

“Guys, we're seriously outta time here!” Unexpectedly, Sharon Carter entered the container and warned us of more incoming trouble.

Not caring, I finally unveiled my firearm soon and pulled the trigger, killing Nagel without any further hesitation.

“No!” Sam and James then yelled towards my direction, pulling me back with his own stronghold.

“What did you do?” Sharon asked, peering towards my eyes. I still couldn’t care less. Impact of the powerful gunshot had shuffled Nagel and forced his hardened chair to fall backward. Blood immediately splattered all over his chest and face.

_______

James, Sam, and I had taken my private jet once more, moving to my safe house in Riga, Latvia the following day. One GRC resettlement camp had been located in this specific city and Donya Madani passed away there, which signaled one step closer towards Karli.

“I’ll ask you again. Who the hell is Dionne Charles? You won’t even show us the picture that Nagel saw yesterday.” Sam questioned me, sitting at the kitchen counter. I’d placed down a drink for him, but he crossed both arms, waiting for me.

“Fine, do you want the truth?” Sarcasm lined my voice, but he was right. I’d quietly spent the past few days hiding behind phones and secrecy to find someone and my veiled movement left them suspicious.

“Lying would put you back in jail without a doubt, so tell me everything.” Sam kept his words leveled, but this sense of curiosity peaked as well.

“Apologies for the old photograph, but this is the image that I showed Nagel yesterday.” I’d taken this laminated Polaroid out of my coat and finally handed the beloved image to Sam.

I’d captured the image myself with a disposable camera. 2003 had marked the year on a white border. In this candid picture, Dionne wore this cocktail dress and drank her favorite wine, sitting on the balcony of my family’s estate in bliss. The dark complexion of her skin tone nearly glowed as daylight turned into evening.

“She’s beautiful.” Sam mumbled gently, but I understood. Of course she was beautiful.

“I know.” I sighed, thinking back. Anyone with two eyes knew that she was arguably one of the most gorgeous people in the world. The phrase “often replicated, but never duplicated” was true, especially considering her presence.

‘Any reason why you’ve kept this picture around? I’m sure that times have obviously changed for both of you.” Sam asked, narrowing his eyes. At least he was not willing to act invasive.

“Nostalgia, perhaps. I haven’t seen her in person since…” I trailed off these words when James entered the safe house, entering my kitchen as well. Even Sam had then caught me and tucked the Polaroid back into that fur-lined coat of mine.

Mission first, memories later. I thought to myself.

“Well, the Wakandans are here and they want Zemo. I just bought us some more time.” James announced, not bothering to greet Sam or I in some content manner.

“Were you followed?” Sam asked James in return, completely forgetting and ignoring my previous conversation with him.

“No.” James answered quickly.

“How can you be so sure?” I joined in, facing the stain-glass window.

“Cause I know when I'm being followed.” James defended himself.

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least.” I turned away from the window and sprayed cologne, faintly smirking.

“Shut it, no one’s defending you. You killed Nagel.” It was not long before Sam spoke up once more, facing me.

“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” I volleyed back, prompting Sam to respond again.

“There's nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man.” Sam eyed me as I handed over another beverage.

“Eleven injured, three dead.” James scrolled through his cell and offered information on Karli. A bombing at the GRC supply depot had taken place recently. There would be more attacks if a list of demands weren’t met as soon as possible.

“The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It was that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron, and to the Avengers.” I reiterated our need to rid the world of these monsters. No one deserved to have that immortality.

“So, Karli is radicalized, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.” Sam joined the conversation once more, facing me and James.

“The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop and she will escalate until you kill her, or she kills you.” I set down the truth of Karli’s intent.

Whilst discussing our mission, I didn’t know what to believe when my burner phone began ringing within the trench coat. Backing away from James and Sam, I discreetly moved towards my coat and reached for that pocket. James and Sam were clueless, just continuing to speak on Karli or the Flag Smashers radicals.

973-675-1342

As soon as I grabbed the phone, this New Jersey phone number flashed before my eyes, signaling memories that had been long buried. Ignoring James and Sam once more, I headed into this cornered master bedroom, closing the door behind me.

“Hello?” Pacing back and forth at the foot of this bed, It was not long before I smiled briefly, trying to register the possibility of hearing her voice without jumping through the answering machine. This chat would be twenty years in the making.

“Who the hell are you?” On the other line, a man’s voice nearly growled unexpectedly to somehow address me. I’d never heard his voice before, but anger coursed through my veins as time stopped. This stranger even sounded American.

“Where’s Dionne?” I snipped with a low tone, conjuring up the worst case scenarios. In short the time when Nagel explained that Dionne could’ve been hiding in plain sight, an abduction could’ve taken place soon after. My skin crawled.

“You really don’t remember me, Colonel? That’s a shame.” This bastard laughed to himself while briefly recalling my years with Eko Skorpion. Despite still holding the title of Baron, I’d taken military service not long before Ultron destroyed Sokovia.

“At least give me your last name during this call, please. You sound like some average and run-of-the-mill American man.” I said, rolling both eyes, regardless of ongoing anger. For all I knew, this man could’ve held Dionne for ransom right now.

“Perkins.”

Back in 2012, Russell Perkins somehow bypassed the no-flight list and failed this harsh attempt to assassinate one of Sokovia’s official diplomats. Not only was Perkins arrested and indicted immediately, but he’d been imprisoned shortly after.

“How the hell did you escape prison?” I grit my teeth. Enough was enough.

“I could ask you the same question.” Perkins chuckled, showing the velvet tone of voice that would’ve rivaled any one of my cousins on their best day.

“How I have now been freed from my cell is none of your concern, Perkins. Where is she?” I returned to our main speaking point: Dionne. My heart dropped and shattered once more, trying to calm, but still enraged now.

“Right here. Hold on.” Perkins lowered his voice once more. Both anxiety and anticipation had quickly raced through my mind as I listened out for Dionne's presence, hoping that Perkins wouldn’t make a joke out of this very situation.

“Z…” Dionne spoke to me at last. Her voice, nearly fleeting, edging on the brink of death, shocked me. Not a hint of joy or content lined her tone as she tried to utter my last name.

“Hello, Sweetheart.” Tears pickled my own eyes. Yet, at that moment, my heart sank. It took everything in me not to shout for her and give myself away during this phone call. Sam and James would’ve immediately noticed that I was not nearby.

“Don’t say that to me.” she warned, reminding my heart of the mistake that led to our breakup many years ago.

“Apologises.” I whispered to her, still keeping my voice leveled despite the anguish that filled my very being now.

“Just say hi to Sam for me and tell James that I’m proud of him. I’ve heard a lot of different things since The Blip took place.” Dionne offered greetings to Sam and James, emoting bittersweetness.

“I promise to speak with James and Sam, but where are you? Where is Perkins hiding you right now? Please tell me.” I tried to keep up this clear facade of strength, but the attempt crumbled with each passing moment.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t tell you. He’ll...he’ll kill me if you find out.” Dionne whispered back to me. Her perfect voice had shuddered against my left eardrum in response, but one damn gunshot then pierced out loud just moments later.

“No!” I yelled, allowing the phone to drop out of my hand instantly. If James and Sam barged through the door, so be it. To be honest, this moment marked the first time that I’d genuinely cried since the loss of my family, including Heike and Karl.

______

“I took the liberty of crossing my name off in your book. I hold no grudges for what you thought you had to do. Goodbye, James.” I bid farewell to James one last time before members of The Dora Milaje could haul me away towards The Raft now.

“She’s alive.” Whilst lowering his firearm at last, James uttered something from behind me. At one point in time, even one member of the Dora had allowed me to turn around.

“What did you just say?” I asked, narrowing my eyes across the cobblestone path found between us.

“Dionne is alive.” James repeated himself.

#baron zemo #zemo fanfic #tfatws #angst #possibly triggering #violence tw

[sailorquinn]

『 hunter schafer. twenty one. trans girl. she/her. 』 oh heavens, is that SAILOR QUINN from MAIN STREET i see roaming around mapleview? minnie may’s always calling them - GREEDY & - IMPULSIVE. i happen to think they’re not that bad! they’re a pretty cool WAITRESS AT SUNRISE DINER AND LOCAL PSYCHIC and every time i’ve seen them, they’ve always been + WARM & + QUICK WITTED. i hope i see them around again! 『 pepper. twenty four. est. she/her. 』

ABOUT THE MUN. the 2000 claymation film chicken run radicalized me hi, hey, hello, everyone my name is pepper and i am at work 😔 but i am also currently slacking off from work to write this 🤠 we love to see it. the duality of man. a bit about me is that i would lay my life down for hunter schafer !!! i am so excited to finally play her this has been my dream since i laid eyes on her,,, that and to take her hand in marriage but i digress. fun fact number 2, i have just started skins at my big age and i hate tony with a passion!!! i’ll fight that little punk i swear !!! fun fact number three, i have an irrational fear of humanoid beings with gills, looking at you sharkboy !! thanks for traumatizing me as a kid buddy, someone had to do it !! this fear also includes the deep from the boys, that weird fish guy that that one lady banged in that oscar nominated movie, and gill from kim possible. all of these fish men all my living nightmares, thank you for coming to my ted talk 😌 (honestlee,,, why is this such a common trope in media. who started this,,,why do they hate me). and finally, the most important thing you need to know about me, is that as a child i thot that god looked like king trident from the little mermaid. i think we can all relate to that, right? right. okay moving onto the love of my life, ms. sailor quinn.  

BIO. winks with my third eye 

everyone in mapleview knows about the quinns. the family has been here probably nearly as long as the town has and is pretty well known for their eccentrics. let’s just say the quinns were definitely, understandably, some of the first women in the history of mapleview to be accused of as being witches, an act of which they made the good ol’ mapleview history books for. this is a fact that sailor often looks back on with pride. honestly, it was one of the only things that made going to history class worth it, because despite how painfully boring the class was in general, sailor could never get tired of the startled looks of her classmates whenever her ancestry was brought up.

nowadays the quinns are arguably living a less exciting life than the good old days of being accused of sorcery. instead, they’re psychics. fortune tellers, if you will. you can find their family shop on main street, and if you’re ever feeling particularly divinely inspired you can stop by for a reading and a few charms or some crystals (they also offer sagings and exorcisms) . the third eye has actually become a bit of a tourist attraction actually, well, as much of a tourist attraction as you could find in mapleview, due to the actions of sailor’s mother. 

to put it simply, sailor’s mother had plans bigger than mapleview could offer. around the time the she was eighteen she left the town for hollywood. now, you would think based in this information that venus quinn had big plans of being on the big screen maybe. or that perhaps she had the voice of an angel and wanted to sing on the radio. you would be wrong. 

sailor’s mother became a reality tv show psychic. as you can guess, the psychic community loves her. that is, if love involved a myriad of curses being put on you and maybe a bit of voodoo. okay, she’s universally despised by psychics pretty much everywhere. i think it’s to be expected. 

sailor was born into this legacy. as you can guess, it was a pretty heavy cross to bear. she was born into a b-list fame that meant her mother had to call her own paparazzi, that sailor herself simply had to be homeschooled to avoid the ‘mobbing’ of perhaps fifteen avid fans max, and that every morning in their grand living room her mother would let her hate mail fuel their fireplace. sailor would occasionally have her face plastered on tlc, or her voice would be heard as her mother made a ‘heartwarming call to her family at home whilst on tour’ but to put it bluntly, sailor was more of a prop in her mother’s fame than anything else. and it was bargain shop fame at best. but apparently still enough scrutiny that her mother felt the need to take her out of the public eye when she came out and began to transition. 

sailor came out to her mother at the age of nine and before she could even reach the age of ten, her mother had shipped her halfway across the country to mapleview to comfortably transition in a town of strangers and in a household of people she’d only ever met at argument fueled holiday parties. her mother swore up and down that this was to make sure that sailor could transition outside of public scrutiny, so that she could have her privacy in this time and not have to deal with the media hounding her down during such a vulnerable period but sailor couldn’t help but feel abandoned by the whole situation. it felt like her mother was hiding her away, like some sort of dirty little secret. it felt like she was ashamed of her, even if the woman swore up and down that she accepted sailor as she was.

sailor moved into the top of the third eye with her her aunts and grandmother and was welcomed into this clan of women with open arms. as mentioned earlier, most of sailor’s experience with her aunts and grandmother has been brief exchanges between her aunts screaming at her mother for being a sell out, her mother hollering back about them not supporting her, and her grandmother pretending to cast a curse on her mother from the head of the dining room table. you know. normal family gatherings, but not enough for you to truly get to know somebody. but it is within the quinn women’s household that sailor finally found her footing. she finally felt like she belonged. her aunts and gram taught her everything they knew and nurtured her lovingly throughout her transition. they gave her her first job working front desk at the third eye, made the place she felt like her mother abandoned her feel more like home than her mother’s place ever had. and she is painfully loyal to them for it. when her mother finally reached out to sailor at the age of sixteen, finally inviting her back home, sailor simply refused. and she’s been here in mapleview ever since.

a few years ago sailor’s mother moved back to mapleview to attempt to repair their relationship. to put it frankly, her views were plummeting quickly, and along with feeling some amount of remorse for her deteriorating relationship with her daughter she also thought that perhaps making her show a mother daughter act would bring some of the attention back to it. sailor has pretty much refused to speak to her, but she lives around sycamore way in a large house on a hill. 

despite sailor having no plans to break into the reality tv business, she really has no idea what she would like to do instead. she is currently content to just continue working at her family shop, and occasionally take up a few of the shifts at the diner as well. she likes money, and she certainly has ambitions to make more, the how is simply up in the air at the moment. honestly, life would be a lot simpler if she could see her own future. 

or well, anyone’s at all. 

HEADCANNONS.  are you a virgin? why are you planning a sacrifice?

 this is the song that inspired sailor, no i cannot explain why. 

sailor’s mother name is venus (vee), her aunts name is persephone (percy), her other aunts name is circe (cece) and finally her grandmother’s name is luna. both her aunts are unmarried and her grandmother is widowed. 

that said, sailor does have a father despite the fact that i didn’t once mention him djsdjk he is an artist and he loves her mother to death honestly. their relationship is almost completely based off of the relationship of cassie’s parents from skins, so yeah they can’t keep their hands off each other and sailor’s father kenneth often paints her mother nude. most of these paintings could be seen on display in her old household, so sailor really did just grow up seeing her mother butt ass naked every day. sometimes it be like that i suppose. 

sailor has three black cats. she calls them the muses and their names are calliope, clio, and urania. basically, whenever there is a black cat at the pound sailor makes it her mission to them home because the stigma against black cats that keeps them from getting adopted?? wack. sailor will adopt everyone of them. 

is currently still living above her family shop is kind of interested in finding an apartment to move into instead. is in the market for a roomie or like three!! all interested parties please apply. 

is actually kinda a con artist. honestly, her whole family kinda is but shh, don’t tell nsdkjsdjk none of them can actually see the future but aunt percy (who says she can see the future, but honestly while sailor does believe her aunt percy is also a bit loony so sdjhsdj who knows what the truth is?) and her grandmother. cece, vee, and sailor tho?? all faking it until they make it. honestly sailor is pretty good about it, although she doesn’t actively see the future she does believe in everything she practices for the most part, and it shows. that says, since she is frankly, a magpie when it comes to money and literally anything mildly expensive she will offer rich people tarot readings without any hesitation and proceed to make the whole thing up as she goes along. if sailor judges them to be bad people (aka rude, the kinda people who don’t tip, snooty, assholes) she will give them a horrible reading to instill the fear of god in them and charge them extra for some good luck charms to ward off their impending doom. but if she likes them she will read the cards as they are and do her best to give them good advice based on her gut. her only saving grace is that she has pretty good intuition anyways, so a lot of what she says tends to be right even if it’s just shots in the dark. (her aunt cece is worse though, she looks up all her clients online before they come to see her dskjdsjk all of her predictions are educated guesses based on her research)

the type to crush and crush hard. falls in love every other week, and gets her heart broken just as often. honestly, sailor tends to fall for anyone who is nice to her, or gives her attention, or whose attention she wants. she is constantly on tinder mostly for fun. tends to treat the app more like a game than anything else, goes out on one night stands a hookups at least ??? 3 times a week. will make cast a love spell for the guy who told her to stay dry when she left the grocery store or the girl who smiled at her on the bus. 

cannot drive but has a license. if you see sailor behind the wheel, duck. she drives a cute little sky blue bug though. it has eyelashes on the headlights. 

colours her hair whenever she is even mildly stressed. by default at the moment it’s a pretty silvery blonde, so she tends to colour the ends often depending on her mood. 

actually can sing unlike her mother, you can probably catch her at any open mic nights in town. she has a little guitar that she’s covered in flower stickers and named aphrodite.

that little frowny face florence pugh was making throughout the entirety of midsommar,,, unhappy sailor content. thank you for coming to my ted talk. 

the type to go to church and pretend to be overcome by the holy spirit just because she’s bored on a sunday sdkjsdj 

your girl is vegan and bisexual, we love to see it. 

PERSONALITY. feeling cute today. might commit acts of hubris

CHEEKY. 99.9% of the time sailor is joking. she is the type to generally tend to be in a cheerful mood no matter what, always laughing or making a dry joke. doesn’t tend to often be in a bad mood but when she is it says something. very witty honestly, tends to be quite funny and the type to go out of her way to make someone laugh

GREEDY. sailor loves money. she absolutely adores it. she’s kind of a magpie when it comes to material things, the type to go to antique stores and thrift stores and clear them out of absolutely anything that interests her. a shameless pickpocket and minor thief, but only when it comes to large corporations or people who look like they have a summer house stashed away somewhere. definitely snatched some sort of expensive little statue from her moms place the last time she went to visit a la fleabag. is probably still looking for some place to sell it online, but honestly also kinda wants to keep it. she’s named her no head nancy and she is currently sitting on sailors desk as a paperweight 

WARM. all faults aside, if you ever need something from somebody sailor is the one to go to. need a ride home from the club? sailor will come and get you in ten minutes. feeling sick? sailor will be over at your place with some vegan chicken noodle soup and a charm for good health. need someone to cheer you up? sailor is doing a chicken dance on your front porch. she is ultimately kind, and if you are her friend especially she will be there for you until death. 

IMPULSIVE. that said sailor does pretty much everything she does without thinking. she is actually, surprisingly enough, a bit of a planner when it comes to life and finances, like she is pretty organized considering how scattered her personality is otherwise. but if sailor gets a whim to go somewhere or do something out of nowhere, she will do it. commitments be damned. the type to suddenly get up and leave mapleview one day to live in hawaii for a year and learn to scuba dive yk. will send you postcards tho. 

this is my first time playing sailor so if this is a mess and contradictory it’s because i am too 😌 thank you for coming to my ted talk.

WANTED CONNECTIONS. god doesnt respond why should i

EXES. give. me. ANGST with this please. the more dramatic the better. it’s been a hot minute since i had a good ex connection so maybe something where they dated in high school or even more recently. where they’re trying to be on good terms but some angsty feels linger below the surface, or where they’re on really bad terms and can’t hide it. the kind of exes who keep going back to each other, or who can’t leave each other alone, jealousy, and all that good stuff yk 

BEST FRIENDS. pls. i would love for sailor to have like four or five of these honestly, just a little squad. these could be here roommates!! or not!! i plan on putting in a wc for her roommates honestly, so look forward to that. 

REGULAR CUSTOMER. someone who sailor is either milking dry or is just trying to reassure. she comes to their place in the middle of the night to sage the place because they swear they heard a ghost. they have a urgent skype call because they broke a mirror and want sailor to go over their future one more time to see how it’s been affected. sailor makes a lot of money off of them and either feels guilty about it or not even a little bit guilty about it depending on their relationship. 

OTHER REGULAR CUSTOMER. this is someone who sailor regularly serves at the diner. rip to them because she is horrible at it. they find sailors order taking pencil in their soup. sailor is constantly getting their order wrong. sometimes she sits down with them and steals their fries as she talks their ear off. sailor is honestly probably too comfortable with them considering how bad she is at her job, but she definitely considers them friends. 

A CRUSH. open to ladies, theydies, and gents! someone who sailor has a big ol’ dumb crush on. this is the person that sailor thinks of whenever she does a love reading, the person who she gazes at longingly whenever she sees them. she also probably talks their ear off whenever they see each other. big heart eyes atm, but sailor knows it probably won’t last more than a month. right?

EX-CRUSHES. that makes me think omg, i’d love to have some people sailor used to have a crush on. people she had a crush on in high school. people she had a crush on last year. just people she used to be obsessed with who she is completely over now sdkjdsjk maybe they’re friends now and sailor doesn’t know what she saw in them in the first place. maybe they’re enemies omg 

OPPOSITES ATTRACT. i’d like someone really grounded to be friends with sailor. like just someone with their shit together who isn’t as airy and whimsical as her. sailor makes them loosen up a bit, and they make sure sailor doesn’t end up dead. it’s a balance. 

i think that’s all i can think of for now but honestly i’d also love to see a bully sailor used to have a s child, someone who thinks psychics and astrology and everything is bs just so sailor can like !!! debate with them about it yk, someone who’s a fan of her moms show, someone who maybe comes to sailors open mic nights religiously, a neighbor maybe like just the person who lives above the shop beside the third eye and sees these women baying at the moon during the summer solstice and is like ??? fuck i gotta move, previous one night stands, fwb, ewb, uh someone who bonds with sailor over occult stuff???

#mapleviewintro #whew #this took a hot minute but here it is y'all we love to see it

[starstwinkleplanetsshine]

The Call of Resistance Chapter 2

The Plan

The conversation shifted from the war and the night passed more normally. Eventually, it was time for Lux and I to go to our rooms and sleep, until the Twins rose again and it was time for another day of farming, scavenging, sweating, and wondering when I would finally get away from the sands of this detestable planet. 

Banthas, I hate sand. 

My nerves rose as each minute passed. Tonight I had a meeting with our small Resistance, and now that I knew Lux was aware of and curious about why I was leaving in the middle of the night, I needed to be more careful about sneaking out. 

Quietly I made my way across the floor, passing his room and chancing a glance into the open doorway. There he was, laying sound asleep in his bed, completely unaware of my movements. I breathed a sigh of relief. I could even hear him snoring ever so slightly, and I knew I was safe. I moved faster after seeing that, grabbing my staff and opening the door, which creaked louder than I had remembered, and stepped into the dry, desert night. Between the three moons shining above and the millions of stars stretching across the sky, it was easy enough to find my way, and this was not my first journey through the night. 

Even so, every step was dangerous. 

The First Order didn’t pay much attention to planets in the Outer Rim, just as the Empire hadn’t, and the Republic before, and that's why Tatooine was allowed to become so wild and uncontrolled, largely run by crime rings and lacking an effective government. Every day I was reminded of how fortunate my situation of living with Lux’s family was. Most orphans on Tatooine are forced into a life of crime or slavery, but since the only source of water on the planet is through moisture farms, the owners of these farms are respected members of the community. I don’t like thinking of how different my life would be if my parents hadn’t been friends with the Mainvin family. But even the wild, untamed Tatooine couldn’t escape the overbearing hand of the First Order, as recently a small band of Storm Troopers had been sent to “keep the peace”, which really meant stop anyone who defied their views, even if that meant killing them to do so. 

Doesn’t seem very peaceful to me. 

This band of stormtroopers was actually the very reason I had called a Resistance meeting that night. 

The closer I came to the meeting spot the more my anxiety rose, as I was planning on proposing an outrageous idea. Up until now, our resistance efforts had been in the shadows, small acts of disobedience that were all but unnoticeable unless looked at closely. But I felt that the time was coming that larger action needed to be taken. We had recently gotten word that there had been battles fought, and more than the mere skirmishes of the past months. Actual battles. This war was quickly moving from cold to boiling hot, from diplomatic stand-offs to laser fire and casualties. 

The stakes were getting higher, and now was the time to act, before it became too late. 

As I finally came upon our meeting spot for tonight, a secluded dwelling set in a hill on the outskirts of a nearby village, I performed the secret knock and was given entry into the space. I ducked my head into the small room and looked around as all the talking dulled and eventually came to a stop. All eyes turned to me as the leader, and I saw that nearly everyone was there that was to be expected, about 100 in all. There were some who couldn’t come to these meetings, whether it was too far or too dangerous, but the information was always dispersed to them the next day. 

We began the meeting with formalities, and I asked everyone any information they knew about the war and any potential trouble that could be brewing here on Tatooine. Everyone shuddered to hear reports of the terror the stormtroopers were wreaking in the spaceport of Mos Eisley and they questioned the stories of the war raging outside our star system. Our older members couldn’t believe that they were going through this again, having to face another totalitarian force threatening the peace of the galaxy and risking their lives for a second time to push back the darkness. I was grateful for their resilience as well as their wisdom and experience, but the jaded look in their eye as we discussed the threat of the First Order always made my heart sink. 

They also reminded me of my parents, who I knew would be in this room with me if they were still alive, willingly putting their lives on the line again without a second thought. 

As the meeting continued, the conversation seemed to center around the fleet of Stormtroopers that had been stationed on Tatooine for a few months now. Despite the short amount of time they had occupied our planet, the destruction and death they were leaving in their wake shocked even our oldest members. Many, especially those who lived in the city, feared for their lives as any hint of their involvement in the Resistance would bring punishment, and probably death. While we were discussing possible courses of action to take to aid the Resistance in any way possible, I knew it was time to propose my ambitious plan. This wild idea struck, seemingly from nowhere, a few days ago, and it had consumed my every thought since. It was truly outrageous and more risky than anything we had attempted before, and the consequences should we fail were certain death and the destruction of our band of Resistance. I almost dismissed the thought completely, telling myself it was impossible, that no one would go along with it, and that they may even question my leadership and authority if I spoke it out loud. 

But despite all these doubts, something arose inside me, a stirring, a prompting that I couldn’t ignore, and before I knew what was happening, the unspeakable words were out of my mouth.

“What if we got rid of the Stormtroopers?” 

Silence. 

I looked around the room, and those who would meet my gaze stared wide-eyed, clearly still processing those words. Most of them were looking at the ground, uncomfortable at my brash words of violent resistance, until a single voice spoke for the rest,

“What?” 

“Just think about it--” I began to defend my idea, “if the stormtroopers were gone, then there would be no First Order threat to Tatooine. They’re the only thing suppressing us right now. The First Order doesn't care enough to pay attention to the planets on the Outer Rim, us least of all! I doubt The Troopers even report to anyone, they’ve been out of supplies for almost two months now and there hasn’t been a restock ship, there hasn’t even been anything sent! Isn’t that right, Kaligo?” I turned to our youngest member, who lived in Mos Eisley and had the important task of keeping an eye on the Storm Troopers there and observing their movements and habits. She nodded slowly, wary of speaking in this situation. “Thank you. If we got rid of all of them before they had the chance to transmit to the First Order for help, then they would never even know.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” A gruff voice from the back challenged. 

“Well, we would come up with the details together, and it would take a lot of careful planning, but we would have to…” I trailed off, afraid to say the morbid words that came next.

“Kill them.” The same man replied. I swallowed hard, the weight of what I truly suggested sinking in, and dropping a heavy weight on my chest. 

“Yes, I guess that’s what we would have to do” A cold silence filled the room, the only sound coming from those who shifted uncomfortably where they sat or stood. Finally an older woman, a veteran of the first war, broke the tension.

“We’d better discuss this, then.” 

For the rest of the meeting, which stretched out to be a couple of hours, we discussed the pros and cons of my radical plan, eventually putting it to a vote. I thought that everyone would hate it, or be too afraid to enact it, but when it came time to make the decision, the majority of the group wanted to go through with it.

 I was shocked. 

Looking around at the faces surrounding me, I was overwhelmed with the tenacity and spirit that filled the room. Our Resistance was small, and may look weak to the outsider looking in, but our nerve and hunger made up for what we lacked in numbers. I thought of how proud my parents would be if they could see me now, leading this group who were determined to change the galaxy.

 A part of me wondered if they could. 

Eventually I had to end the meeting so that everyone could make it back to their homes safely before the suns came up, but not before discussing when and where our next meeting would be held. This was done quickly, as many of us needed the cover of night to hide from the prying eyes of the First Order and our neighbors. Even though many wanted to stay and keep discussing our bold plan, everyone began to clear out, in increments that would not be suspicious, and go home. For the past couple of weeks I felt as though some were losing heart and beginning to wonder if our efforts were really worth it, but now that we had a tangible plan that would have a large impact, a spark had been ignited once again and the flames of the Resistance began to grow. 

Slowly, but surely.

 I stayed behind to make sure everyone left the way they were supposed to and to thank the hosts of the meeting, and by the time it was clear for me to leave, the sky was already beginning to glow just as it did right before the first sun peeked over the horizon. I had never been gone this long before, or travelled this late (or would it be early?), and I was uneasy the whole way home. Leaving Resistance meetings always gave me a feeling of dread, as I worried about everyone getting home without being caught by Stormtroopers, or the many other local dangers that lurked in the dark Tatooine night. I knew I had to hurry to get back before it was fully light, since if anyone saw me there would be suspicion for sure, but that was difficult as our meeting location was over 3 klicks away from the Mainvin farm. 

I made good time getting back, having to run most of the way, but I still didn’t make it before the first sun came up, instead arriving right before the second appeared. I had a bad feeling as I approached our hut that Lux would be awake, and he would not be happy with me. There was a slim chance he would still be sleeping, in which case I would quietly slip into my room and pretend that my night was uneventful as ever, but I had no idea what lie I could come up with if he caught me before I made it there. I braced myself as I walked through the door, hoping for the best, but a part of me already knew what I would find once inside. 

I barely got one foot inside the door before he started shouting. 

“Where the hell have you been?” His yell broke the silence of the early morning. 

“Lux, I-”

“And why the hell are you coming home at the crack of dawn?” I was shocked at the tone of his voice. In my almost 20 years of knowing Lux, I had never heard him yell like this. There was so much emotion in it, anger being the most obvious, but it was almost as if that anger was a mask for other emotions, stronger ones, that lingered and mixed in but were harder to discover, emotions like fear, worry, and, if I strained hard enough…

“I told you, Lux, I’ve been having trouble sleeping. So I went to walk around outside and I stayed out longer than I intended to.” I paused to catch my breath, still winded from my long journey home. His stony silence told me that that answer wasn’t enough for him, so I strained to think of something else to say that would account for my absence. “Eventually I thought I would get a jump on scavenging for today, so I started looking around. By the time I thought I should come back, the first sun was already coming up, so I rushed back as fast as I could because I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You didn’t want me to worry? Well, you did a fantastic job at that! I’ve been up, worried sick, hoping to the stars you weren’t lost, or hurt, or...” He couldn't even finish his thought, and by the look on his face, it’s because it was too horrible to say out loud. He didn’t say it, he didn’t have to, but I knew what he was referring to. 

Tusken Raiders. 

This feared, nomadic, local people was the monster under the bed in every children’s horror story, and rightfully so. There were many dangers living on Tatooine, especially living on a moisture farm on the outskirts of a village, but the Sand People were the highest threat and the most feared. They were extremely hostile, and known to attack without warning. The energy in the air shifted at that, almost as if it were sucked out completely, and any anger or annoyance I felt at Lux vanished as well. I knew better than most the threat and dangers of the Sand People. Suddenly I could see why my absence made him so worried, and I understood his concern. Suddenly, I was ashamed at my recklessness.  

“I’m sorry, Lux. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know you didn’t,” his temper began to cool, and his voice returned to the normal one I knew, soothing and steady, almost musical, “it's just...it’s dangerous out there, especially when you’re alone. I-” he took a deep breath, and I thought he wasn’t going to finish his thought, but then he added, “I worry about you.” I looked up into his caring, brown eyes, so full of tenderness and concern, that I almost forgot we were fighting just minutes before. 

“I had no idea you felt that way.” I couldn't think of anything else to say but, “I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath and I saw a small smile creep onto his face before he softly replied, 

“I know. It’s okay.” His eyes met mine and seeing him smile eased any tension the past confrontation caused. Then he opened his arms and smiled wider, and I knew that our fight was over. “Come here.” 

I laughed freely as I walked to him and melted into his open arms, and as I felt them close around me it was as if I was exactly where I was supposed to be. My life was increasingly becoming more confusing, dangerous, and uncertain, but when I was with Lux, everything was clear, safe, and sure. We stayed like this for a few moments, just with each other, our silence a comfortable blanket, until the blanket was ripped off by Lux’s words,

“Just no more midnight and early morning walks alone, okay?” I lingered in the silence a few moments longer. 

Too long. 

“Okay.”

“Promise?”

More silence. 

“I promise”

But that was a promise I knew I would have to break. 

---

The next few weeks passed uneventfully. The Resistance had frequent meetings to plan our attack on the Stormtroopers, but I was more careful to ensure that Lux never caught me again. I didn’t know what I would do if he saw me sneaking out a second time, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to lie my way out of it then.

My days consisted of helping with the Mainvin moisture farm in the mornings, scrapping with Lux in the afternoons, and then Resistance meetings at night. I was running on empty, and Lux could tell. Everyday it got harder and harder to wake up in the mornings, since our meetings were becoming more frequent, and I was getting less and less sleep. He never said anything about it, but I could see it in his eyes that he was noticing something was going on, something I wasn’t telling him. 

But Lux was never one to butt into other peoples business, and he was always perfectly happy staying quiet, in his own world, not stepping on anyone's toes. 

For once in my life, I was thankful for his diffidence.

Finally, it was the night before our planned attack, and there was a tangible buzz, an excitement, in the air during our final meeting. There were those that got cold feet at the last minute and decided they needed to drop out, but other than those understandable few, everyone was all in. I went over the plan in detail, making sure everyone knew their role. I also went over every single thing that could go wrong, and what we would do in those scenarios. The more I talked about it the weight of what we were planning sunk into me, and suddenly I realized how impossible it was. 

For weeks we had been meticulously planning our attack, but now it was in front of us, looming like a treacherous mountain that you couldn’t see the top of. I didn’t show any sign of my doubts, however. I knew my people looked up to me and needed me to be firm and secure. If I began to doubt, then surely they would too. No, I took on this leadership role, and that meant that I needed to put my personal feelings aside and be what my small band of rebels needed me to be. 

“Now is the time we decide who we’re going to be in this time of resistance and change. When we decide if we’re going to keep our heads down and ignore the devastation that the First Order is causing all throughout the galaxy, or if we decide we’re going to take a stand, and fight for freedom.”

There were smiles from some, but others were stone-faced, paralyzed by fear and dread. 

“We are taking bold action. What we are going to do tomorrow is going to make a lot of waves, and I’m not going to lie to you, it is dangerous. Some of us may be hurt, or worse. But it is times like these that we must remember that we do not fight for ourselves, nor do we fight alone. There are others like us out there, small groups of people on other systems who have also decided to stand, who decided that they weren’t going to let the terror and fear of the First Order rule their lives. We fight for them, and we fight for Tatooine. But not only do we fight for our planet, we fight for all of the Outer Rim, to say that just because we are small and far does not mean we are worthless. We are going to make the First Order regret the day they underestimated us. 

“But most of all, we fight for the future. We fight so that there can be a day when we tell our children, and our children’s children, that there is peace and freedom in the galaxy because of the efforts of a small group of The Resistance on Tatooine who looked tyranny in the eye and decided there was no place for it here, or anywhere. We may be small, but I have no doubt our actions tomorrow will ripple out into eternity. I am sure of this because I look to the generation before us as an example that good will always triumph over evil, so long as the good is willing to fight for it. And we are.” 

I had no idea where those words came from, and I was hardly aware that they were flowing out of my mouth until my speech was over and I was brought back to reality by the sounds of cheering, clapping, whooping, and the sight of everyone on their feet and beaming, even those whose fear consumed them just minutes ago. Looking at them, at all the faces who I had grown to know and love over the past few months, I, for the first time, finally felt like their leader. Their confidence in me fueled me, and I got an overwhelming feeling that our efforts tomorrow would be successful, and we would take one step closer to freedom. 

After everyone settled down, I wrapped up the meeting with a few more logistical items and then, little by little, everyone began the systematic trek back to their homes. 

Almost everyone was out when I felt a light hand on my shoulder. I turned and met eyes with our oldest member, Dya, who had also been a part of the Rebellion in the Galactic Civil War. I had always looked up to her, and often asked her advice on tough situations, as I knew her experience and knowledge was invaluable. There was a kindness and a new light in her eyes that I couldn’t help but notice, and it was infectious. 

“Your parents would be so proud of you.” Dya had known my father since childhood, as they both grew up on Tatooine. She met my mother when they settled here after the war, and I knew they would often meet to share stories about their time fighting. They found solace in each other, survivors trying to make sense of why they still lived when so many didn’t. “You have your father's eloquence and charisma, and your mother's passion and intelligence, not to mention her beauty.”

I was stunned by her heart-felt words, and felt the mixture of pride and sadness, love and loss that always accompanied any mention of my parents. Even after all these years I still felt the sting of their absence. Not a day went by where I didn’t miss them. 

“Thank you.” The weight of her words were still sinking into me. “I try to honor them and make them proud with everything I do. They put their life on hold to fight the Empire, so I knew I needed to do the same to fight the First Order” 

With one last knowing smile and a reassuring pat on my arm, she too left, hobbling through the dark, perilous night back to her home. I only hoped I was as courageous and capable when I reached her age, if I ever did. 

As I walked back to my hut and silently slipped back into my room, careful to not wake Lux in the process, I knew I would be getting very little sleep that night. I was a mess of nerves and doubts, the plans of tomorrow’s events swirling relentlessly in my head. I thought of everything that could go wrong, and what would happen if it did. I thought about what would happen if everything went right, and what our next steps would be. I thought about what would happen if everything went right, but then the First Order caught wind of it and decided to punish us with even more force than there was to begin with. I tried to push the negative thoughts out of my head and just focus on the plan. 

Everything was now in motion, and I would just have to wait until tomorrow to see how it played out. Eventually I drifted into a restless sleep, dreams of yelling, explosions, and Storm Troopers following me even in my rest. 

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