#“death is a one-time loss of memory” like man if i can just translate my thoughts about how venti IS a psychopomp

[protect-namine]

if you only have to watch one (1) genshin lore video, I highly recommend this one. not because it's a beginner-friendly guide to those new to the lore (it's not), but because the vibes of this theory are immaculate and explains like... the kinds of things that fascinate me about the game

paimon is consecrated for consumption, in a eucharist way. blood is wine is memories is life is power. ambrosia for ascension. the blood to the traveler's bones

there are so many things in the game that seem like innocuous off-hand comments but when put into a bigger picture, is so ???

like. do you ever think about how paimon likes to eat slimes because they are pure elemental energy, and she functions as the traveler's conduit for the elements similar to a vision for vision-wielders (even though she is not a vision)

and what does this mean for the traveler who is hinted to be a star? how much can they consume before they "collapse under their own gravity", so to speak

I really have nothing to add, I just wanted to share how much I love the vibes of the content of this video. this is peak genshin theorizing to me

[astraystayyh]

MASTERLIST

all rights reserved © astraystayyh. all pieces are works of fiction and do not represent the members in real life. do not copy, translate or repost.

OT8

╰┈➤ series.

༊*·˚ SKZ song series masterlist (completed)

༊*·˚ Winter falls | winter themed collab with @forlix (in progress)

༊*·˚ SKZ quotes series masterlist (in progress)

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ All for you- skz wedding vows | f.

༊*·˚ SKZ saying I love you for the first time | f.

╰┈➤ headcannons.

༊*·˚ SKZ as oddly specific love languages | f.

༊*·˚ Mundane activities you'd enjoy with SKZ | f.

༊*·˚ SKZ when you are stressed and overworked | h/c.

bang chan.

╰┈➤ one-shots & series.

༊*·˚ Pieces of you | f. a. singledad!chris. mutual pining. neigbors!au.

⟿ In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chris and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

༊*·˚ Vanilla | a. f.

⟿ Breakup with a happy ending.

༊*·˚ Beginning of the end (part 1) | a.

⟿ You are breaking up with Chan, he just doesn't know it yet.

༊*·˚ Bittersweet (part 2) | a. f. exes to lovers.

⟿ Four years later, you are back home and everything has changed.

༊*·˚ Wait for me | a. major character death.

⟿ "I think I might see you soon, my yn. You've been waiting for me, haven't you? Just like we promised."

༊*·˚ The wedding saga | f.

The impromptu proposal.

A few hours before the wedding.

The wedding and the morning after.

༊*·˚ Myth | f. friends to lovers.

⟿ Skimming across the edge of being friends and something more with Chan is a dangerous game. Even more so when you're both sharing the same bed.

"The consequence of what you do to me, help me to name it."

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ chan is tired and you are his sun.

༊*·˚ you're sick and chan takes care of you.

༊*·˚ when you're having a bad day and chan is still proud of you.

༊*·˚ chan comforting you through a thunderstorm.

༊*·˚ chan's hugs.

༊*·˚ chan comforting you through an anxiety attack.

lee minho.

╰┈➤ one-shots & series.

༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 1 | f, a. academic rivals to lovers. slow burn.

⟿ Your studies have been your life line for as long as you can remember, what happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

༊*·˚ Invisible thread- 2 | f. a. h/c.

⟿ In which Minho rewrites your entire relationship with love.

༊*·˚ Echoes of love | memory loss trope. a. h/c.

⟿ If given the choice would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.

chapter i. to forget - chapter ii. to remember

༊*·˚ The only exception | strangers to lovers. slow burn. barista!minho.

⟿ Minho was content with straying away as far as possible from love. That is until you stumbled into his café on a rainy night, and unwittingly, into his life.

"Cause none of it was ever worth the risk, but you are the only exception."

༊*·˚ Conversations with Minho | f.

༊*·˚ A cat proposal | f.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ mine.

༊*·˚ a sun and a moon.

༊*·˚ when you used to feel lonely but not anymore with minho.

༊*·˚ minho comforts you through a storm.

seo changbin.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ The alternative | brother's best friend!changbin. f. ♡

⟿ You've diligently chased the idea of being with Changbin out of your mind. That is until he picks you up from a bad date, making your steadfast resolve unravel all around you.

"Love is a risk, but what's the alternative?"

༊*·˚ Burning in the winter wind | romcom vibes. (fake) enemies to lovers. f.

⟿ Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

when you're feeling sad changbin will do anything (being silly) to cheer you up.

in which jeongin (your brother) catches you making out with changbin in the kitchen.

hwang hyunjin.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ The snow falls, we fall apart | friends to lovers. roomates!au. a. f. longing and pining.

⟿ when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

༊*·˚ Starry night | museum guide!reader x idol!hyunjin. f.

⟿ in which you fall in love with hyunjin through paintings.

༊*·˚ Breathe | model!hyunjin x photographer!reader. longing and pining. f.

༊*·˚ Somebody else | exes to lovers. a. miscommunication. happy ending.

⟿ You and Hyunjin have broken up, guilt and blame simmering between you both. He doesn't care anymore, or so he thought. Then why does it hurt him to see you with someone else?

"Don't want your body but I hate to think about you with somebody else."

༊*·˚ You're in the wind, I'm in the water (pt.1) | friends to lovers. pinch of unrequited love (it's very much requited dw)

༊*·˚ Orange (pt.2) | f. my take on The Orange theory.

༊*·˚ Young and beautiful | f.

⟿ How you both said i love you for the first time.

༊*·˚ Snow on the beach | f. implied soulmates.

⟿ You've never said i love you to Hyunjin but you've both always known.

༊*·˚ Say yes to heaven | a. f. (pt. 1)

⟿ Seven minutes in heaven except you're heartbroken and hyunjin has a huge crush on you.

༊*·˚ Say yes to me | f. (pt. 2) ♡

⟿ After your seven minutes in heaven, hyunjin wants to plan out how he'll finally confess to you. except you come knocking on the door of his rented cabin unannounced. at 10:53 pm. the perfect time for love, he comes to learn.

༊*·˚ When I fell in love | f.

⟿ It's your birthday and Hyunjin has a surprise gift for you- all the moments he fell in love with you in.

༊*·˚ You and I | a. happy ending.

⟿ In which you wrongly lash out at Hyunjin and have to mend it back. Human character who makes mistakes and apologizes for them.

༊*·˚ Conversations with Hyunjin | f.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ serenity.

༊*·˚ mornings with hyunjin.

༊*·˚ nights with hyunjin.

༊*·˚ hyunjin and touch starved reader.

༊*·˚ you've had a nightmare and Hyunjin sings you to sleep while it's raining.

༊*·˚ in which you're in love with hyunjin and you're both swimming in a lake.

༊*·˚ hyunjin with glasses and a tiny ponytail brainrot.

༊*·˚ hyunjin is your friend except you're making out in his car backseat.

༊*·˚ your reaction to hyunjin's new burgundy hair.

༊*·˚ valentine’s with hyunjin.

han jisung.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ Volcano | Enemies to lovers. slow burn. f. a.

⟿ You've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.

"I'll take care of you. It's terrible work. Not to me, not if it's you."

༊*·˚ 5422 | a. f.

⟿ Your morning after a fight with Han.

༊*·˚ Backburner | Exes who can't move on. a.

⟿ It's been seven weeks since Han broke up with you. And yet he's still calling you, every saturday night, without fault. And even though you try not to, you still pick up each time.

"You'd think I'd be a fast learner. But guess I won't ever mind crisping up in your backburner."

lee felix.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ If the world was ending | estranged childhood best friends to lovers. a. f.

⟿ Felix has always been there with you, from the moment you've met him when you were 8 years old. Until he suddenly no longer was, and you were left to grapple with the consequences of his absence- and those of his return.

"If the world was ending you'd come over, right?"

༊*·˚ Scream! | f. h/c.

⟿ When you are overwhelmed by the stress of your studies, your boyfriend Felix will do anything to cheer you up.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ red lollipop.

༊*·˚ you apply lip gloss on felix but it takes an emotional turn because he's too pretty.

༊*·˚ cooking with felix.

kim seungmin.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ In my dreams | (Fake) enemies to lovers. a. h/c. slow burn. ♡

⟿ Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.

"I'm sorry that I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away."

༊*·˚ Photobooth | f.

⟿ Your first date with seungmin, except he pretends he's confident when he's just as nervous as you.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ seungmin's silent comfort.

༊*·˚ when you realize you don't have to be perfect around seungmin.

༊*·˚ enemies to lovers (for a night) with seungmin.

༊*·˚ seungmin thinks you’re the prettiest at your most ordinary.

yang jeongin.

╰┈➤ one-shots.

༊*·˚ You're sexy I'm sexy | friends to lovers. fluff and tension.

⟿ Jeongin is out with his friends, and you. You're tipsy and sitting on his lap, and he doesn't think he can keep his crush for you at bay anymore.

"It could be simple as loving on each other with no strings."

༊*·˚ Please fall before I fall | best friends to lovers. mutual pining but they think it's unrequited love.

⟿ 3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours (and ended up confessing along the way). holidays themed.

╰┈➤ drabbles.

༊*·˚ jeongin when you are sad and don't know why.

༊*·˚ jeongin's duality.

[crucifiedbymypriestess]

One thing about me is that I can't focus on just one thing or I'll start to procrastinate or get distracted, so I always make it a point to write a bunch of fanfics at once. English is not my first language, hope you guys can understand it well, also helped myself with Google translator.

Also my last time writing something was like seven-eight years ago, lmao.

This is one of them.

After a tragic accident and the death of David, the happy married couple begins to struggle and witness the deterioration of their marriage, a disastrous divorce, but life continues to bring Erik into Charles's life.

Here's one scene from it:

“-'cause the best thing for you and Erik is to stop for a while and get outside help, Charles. It's not fair to any of you that your coexistence is only with fights.”

Raven extended her hand, leaving a piece of paper with a contact in red ink, with perfectly legible handwriting. Charles continued with his blank face, empty eyes, sealed lips and rigid posture. Charles couldn't explain it, but sometimes his ears went deaf and his mind stopped caring what his sister had to say about it.

Leaving home was already a very difficult sacrifice to make, in these months when he could only stay stuck, sitting on the bed in the room of his sweet and beloved little boy. Spending afternoons and most of the night idly looking out the window now covered in dust.

“-Erik said that you refuse to sleep properly yet, that you don't even want to leave... David's room.”

Because sleeping with Erik felt so much rejection and pain, it suffocated him to be close to that man. Charles felt his air mixing with her husband's, and little by little he began to hate the idea of Erik's skin being so close to his body. Sometimes he dared to dream that his cute little boy was with him and he cried to him to go comfort him because of a nightmare, and he allowed himself to tell David that it was okay if he slept with Erik and him.

Other nights he dreamed that his son was running around in his bare feet and tripping in the hallway, but he laughed with Erik and then continued playing. But upon awakening all those happy and melancholic emotions his crumbled before the reality of the loss of his family.

“-we concluded that it would be best, Charles. You can’t keep treating Erik like it’s his fault.” Raven repeating the same speech that the rest of her acquaintances came to say.

Charles just let her continue, half-hearted and refusing to lend an ear to this annoying topic. He clenched his fists under the table, and simply let his sister continue with that petty speech that he refused to give space to. He closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing, but his nose stung and his eyes burned at the painful memory of her little David.

Raven listed over and over the reasons why Erik and Charles should go to therapy, talk calmly without either of them ending up screaming, and without Charles swearing hate and disgust in her husband's face for even having the audacity to show up. But he didn't want that, because he couldn't help but see Erik for what he really was, what his eyes presented to him, instead of his beloved.

“You know it's not fair, he didn't do it on purpose, it was an accident, it's no one's fault, Charles…”

And Charles fumed, opening his eyes to let angry tears escape as a cold gaze settled on his sister. He shook his head, as if he couldn't believe what this woman in front of him was saying, refusing to even see things as he believed them to be.

“No, Raven. Stop right here, don't you dare tell me, don't defend him too, Raven. For the love of God, don't tell me.” His voice came out with more desperation than he expected, and he surprised himself.

“It's not his fault, Charles. You… you really have to forgive him, you know well that it's not his fault. It was his son too, he loves you both. You are the love of his life, Charles. I know it's hard but you really can't live like this and keep blaming Erik, he-”

“Stop, Raven!” It had come out like a shout, causing a few glances from other tables throughout the restaurant. “Stop it, please, Raven! All of you, stop coming to me with forgiveness sermons, because I simply can't!” Charles began to sob hard, while his breathing and voice seemed ragged with the tide of tears pouring out of him.

“Don't ask me to look at that man and forgive him, because he says he loves me, and he loved my baby. Don't ask me to look at it and not see in it the disgusting being that let my baby die, because I don't know how, and I can't. It is not in me, because I will never be able to see his face again and not think that that man killed my baby.” One broken scream after another, and Charles could no longer stop coughing and hiccuping between his cries. And Raven didn't offer any comfort, she just looked at him frozen, averting her gaze from her brother so as not to succumb to the desire to cry with him. “Or do something for me, and tell me how, how can I look at him again without thinking that he is the culprit of my misfortune? Can you teach me, Raven? Tell me, speak! Tell me how he's supposed to be and don't think he killed my baby!”

[halliescomut]

Jeff Satur song theory

So there's something I noticed in listening to Jeff's English songs after Dum Dum came out last week. And it's just a theory, but it honestly was so interesting my brain just latched on and wouldn't let go.

For some caveats, I'm only counting songs he released in English that aren't related to tv shows, aren't collabs. So that means Fade, Hide, and Dum Dum. I'm specifying them having an English version, because there's not always full clarity with translated lyrics. With English releases I know that Jeff consciously chose the wording to evoke certain ideas/emotions, even if it may not be a direct translation to the original Thai.

So here's my theory...THE STAGES OF GRIEF.

The reason I thought about this was is interview with Woody where he talked about writing more melancholy music because he'd not had a successful relationship yet. Meaning for whatever reason they broke up, whether it was mutual isn't really the point, and honestly, the man is 28 (I think, I can't be bothered to Google) so in a decade I'd imagine he's had at least a few longer term relationships. But his songs that he writes are about his feelings after those 'failed' relationships. (I don't love the term failed, bc often it's not really anyone's direct fault, but I digress.)

But anyway, listening to Dum Dum, that's anger, 100% .

The lyrics scream anger and frustration, the aggression in the melody of the song, in the music video. It's all that white hot heat, and I think if you also look at the concept of there being two Jeff's in the video--there's a pretty common idea about anger turning someone into a different person. I've also seen people referencing the video in regards to Jeff kind of stepping back into the shoes of Kim almost in reference to what could Kim have been like if he lost Chay, or if he never found him, if he never became WiK, and I can definitely see that was well. In all of those scenarios, it's a Kim who's in mourning. A Kim who's grieving the loss of his true love, his first love, his chance at love. Grieving the loss of a future he decided for himself. There's a lot of possible subtext to read there. And all of this is what sparked the idea of grief and our human reactions to it as a possible theme of Jeff's music recently.

Going back and looking at the previous releases, we start with Hide, which was released in May of 2022. The lyrics, tone, feeling of the song, the say denial to me.

This idea of going to the places that remind him of their relationship. Asking to sing them one more song. Asking why they don't truly believe in his love for them. It also to me gives a feeling of maybe the relationship ending because they weren't in the same place as far as readiness for something public, serious, exclusive, there's quite a few reads here (which is why it's interesting). If you want to read it through a queer lens, as though one party was not ready to be out yet. I'm not here to speculate specifically on Jeff's sexuality, and honestly as a lyricist and composer, I don't think he needs to have direct 1:1 experience to be able to address that idea or include that as a facet of his lyrics.

The last song to go over is Fade. Fade to me brings to mind the bargaining stage, but in a little bit of a different way.

Normally with bargaining in regards to grief, it's very connected to denial, it's this concept of "if I had had done something different...", "if I made different choices...", "if I was a better person...". The music video offers the idea of his love interest dying, but this is of course applicable to just the idea of the 'death of a relationship'. It also relates to the story of the M/V on the level of "if I do better this life, maybe I wont lose them, maybe I'll be deemed worthy of more time with them..." Looking at the lyrics alone, without the context of the video, they can be seen as bargaining with the memory of the person. It's this exhaustion of being continuously reminded of a person, which makes you experience that grief over and over again. Our minds can't maintain that, regardless of the relationship you're grieving or the way in which that relationship ended.

In another aspect, not inline with this discussion, but certainly related in terms of this being a deep dive into his lyrics and concepts of his songs. I like that Jeff references crying. There's the overarching reason of it's important for boys and men to understand that crying is an acceptable reaction to grief and sadness. I think it really does matter, even with this not being the main point of the songs, it's still there, so it's still affecting listeners, it's still encouraging the idea of not being afraid of tears as a man, or as a human.

The lyrics of Fade say "crying but my eyes both have not been dry for days". He's deep in the grief still. Then in Dum Dum, "I used to cry but the tears is dry". He's starting to move on a little. I would say, based on the anger of Dum Dum, it's a mix of moving on and masking your pain with anger. I've said it before on here I'm sure, but it was pointed out by a therapist that anger is a secondary emotion. It's a reaction to something else, like frustration, like disappointment, and of course like grief or sadness. We bring anger to the forefront because it doesn't allow for too much analysis, and it also takes a lot of energy, which can help put you in a state where your mind becomes exhausted enough to rest. It's a similar idea to working out or doing activities you find physically exhausting in order to tire out your body.

Anyway, I don't know if any of you might have found this specifically accurate, relevant, interesting, but it's something that I just couldn't put away once I had sort of made the connection. In know they're loose connections, very much so, but I also don't think they're wild leaps.

I appreciation for reading all of this...if you did...enjoy yet another hot ass picture of Jeff:

[wildflower-otome]

[Translation] Shuuen no Virche EpiC:lycoris - Scien Brofiise - Encore After Story

Source: Shuuen no Virche EpiC:lycoris Limited Edition Booklet Note: Spoilers for Scien's Side End -Encore- below.

The only one you can be crazy for is me - Scien Brofiise Encore After Story

‘Um, Scien.’

‘What is it?’

‘I-I was just wondering if it’s necessary to sit quite so closely together when we’re drinking tea.....?’

As I drank the tea I took in place of having an alarm clock, from beside me the Death girl asked me the question.

Because I had been able to temporarily repress her body’s deadly constitution using the antibodies supplied to me by the Watchman of Death, there was no issue with us being pressed up against each other like this for long periods of time.

—However, it didn’t appear that was what she was concerned about.

‘Do you have a reason for wanting to be further away from me?’

‘I-I don’t, but.....’

‘In that case, stay here.’

‘A-Alright.’

Still stiff, as if not sure what to do, the girl waited for me to finish drinking my tea.

(—Now then, how to proceed from here)

It wasn’t the curse I was thinking about, I was devising ways in which I could make her fall for me again.

(There’s no guarantee that I’m in love with her, but the one she’s in love with has to be me)

With that logic, I had once more placed the useful girl next to me, however—.....

(I shouldn’t be too obvious in how I approach her. After all, her past self became smitten with me when I was just being myself)

More importantly, it wasn’t in my personality. To flatter a woman, trying to get her to like me was something I would never do, even under the threat of death. But—

‘.....Scien? Is there something on my face?’

‘-No.’

—The idea of giving over the view of this side profile to another man was something I liked even less.

‘I was just thinking even now that you’ve become a reliver, you’re as gloomy as ever.’

‘I don’t think I can’t help that, seeing as my personality is still the same.....’

Strangely amused at seeing her flustered and at a loss, I hid my smile.

‘Now that I’m sufficiently rehydrated, I suppose I’ll take a little nap.’

‘Ah, then I'll go get you a pillow—.....’

‘Don’t need it, got one right here.’

Lying down, I placed my head on her lap.

Seeming bewildered, she spoke.

‘Regardless of how I was in the past. Are you alright doing this sort of thing with me as I am now?’

‘? The past has nothing to do with it. You’re still my errand person, aren’t you? The only thing different is whether or not you’ve got romantic feelings for me.’

‘....................’

When I told her so plainly—.....

‘.....Yes, that’s true. No matter how many times my body is remade, I’m your errand person.’

For some reason, she was smiling as if happy. After muttering that I really didn’t get her—.

‘Just so long as you understand that.’

As I spoke, I roughly patted the head of my self-aware errand person.

And then, just like that, I fell into a temporary slumber.

* * *

Although I had said to her that we would be rebuilding our relationship, we still maintained the same distance between us as before. All she did was follow after me as I conducted my research.

‘Scien, I'm coming in.’

On a certain late night. As I stood alone in my research room, the girl came in, carrying supper.

‘You’re still researching even at a time like this?’

‘I was until a moment ago. Not anymore.’

As I gazed at single fixed point—at a capsule, she came to stand beside me.

‘.....? There doesn’t seem to be anything inside-.....’

‘I was recalling the moment that I “used” you.’

‘!’

As I had backed up her memories directly before that moment, she didn’t remember her death.

‘.....What was I like, at the end?’

‘You were brave. It was the first time even I had seen a test subject voluntarily ask to be used in an experiment.’

Looking at the place where she had breathed her last, she drew in a light breath.

‘I’m sure my previous self wasn’t afraid of dying itself, just like the records say. However—I think she was a little afraid of no longer being able to see you, Scien.’

‘Even though I was the one that killed her?’

‘.....Even so. That’s why, even if my feelings of love are gone, I’m glad I was able to meet you again.’

Because, she continued.

‘I was a little uneasy.  I wasn’t sure what I would do if you rejected me as “a different person” once I lost my romantic emotions for you. But just as the records say, you didn’t hesitate to call me your one and only errand person, Scien. .....And that made me so happy, and proud-’

Hearing her explain as I had guessed, I sniffed.

‘If you can say all that, hurry up and fall in love with me.’

‘Eh, ah.....as-as to be expected, emotions aren’t something that can be controlled as one would like.’

Although she cast her gaze downwards with reddened cheeks, as she had said, her eyes did not contain any longing for me.

(.....Has she perhaps become more formidable than before?)

I must be imagining it.

As I was thinking to myself, she cautiously watched the expression on my face—however, her words when she spoke were clear.

‘I-I don’t know about the future. I might be able to love you as my past self did.....

.....but at the very least, the feeling that I wish to be of use to you hasn’t changed.’

‘.....You sure have strange tastes.’

‘Hehe. That reminds me of the time you called me an automatic sandwich dispenser.’

Feeling it foolish of me to even have wondered when she would fall for me, I gave a single yawn.

‘Well, I suppose I shall just have to wait patiently. On the off chance that you do fall in love with another man, I will destroy them with everything I have at my disposal, so be prepared for that.’

‘Th-that would be rather frightening..... However—whether it be romantic attachment or not, I think the only person I could have this kind of great emotion towards is you, Scien.’

‘If that’s the case, I don’t mind.’

No matter how many years it took, just so long as I could have such a useful errand person as you around, that was enough for me.

(I suppose.....I can’t keep remembering the moment of her death over and over like this, it’s not like me)

If the Scien I had been up until now wasn’t enough, then all I had to do was make her love me as a completely new Scien.

‘.....Shall we go?’

‘Eh, where.....to?’

‘My room. I’ll continue my research there. —It wouldn’t do to have you keep ingesting the Watchman’s blood forever after all. I’ll have to do something about that constitution of yours as soon as possible.’

‘! Th-Thank you.....!’

Seeing her following after me in a half run, I was satisfied.

(Come tell me you love me in a future without the curse. Though whether or not I will return your feelings—I’m not so sure)

As I thought to myself that the very fact that I hadn’t declared it impossible meant I was already considerably under her influence—I smiled.

[the-starry-raven]

Scars and Losses

TW: Blood, death, swearing, poorly translated Russian, Ukrainian, and Dutch, a bit of transphobia (Very little like you have to squint to see it)

@forestshadow-wolf @queermentaldisaster

Mykyta's backstory and how he got his call sign

The one question he hated being asked. That one fucking question.

"Why'd you join the task force?"

He never wanted to answer it and he never did, he thanked his friend for that. She always changed the subject. He always gave the person asking a death stare and stayed quiet, unless it was a higher up then he answered; didn't want to piss them off.

This time the sergeant who asked kept pestering him, even after being told several times to back down. It was either that question or why the hell he was codenamed Night, the persons words not his.

"Why the hell do you wanna know? It's nothing important." The Slavic man spoke up as he stared at the sergeant. His friend sat beside him, her greenish blue eyes stared daggers at the other, it had been her being asked the questions last week now it was Mykyta's. "Didn't you get your answer from Alek?" He raised a brow.

They scoffed as they rolled their eyes. "Sparrow didn't tell me shit besides that you both worked for the same task force before this. Plus something about it being classified or whatever."

The lieutenant sighed and glanced at the other. "I'm too tired to deal with this, you wanna try?" She glanced at him as she thought for a moment before giving the sergeant a look that was basically the equivalent of 'Piss off' and got up.

"Listen to Kravchenko. It's nothing" Alek, or Sparrow, had added as she left with Mykyta after he stood up. Once it was just them she looked at him and gently nudged him. "You good?"

He nodded and tried to ignore the memories that were making themselves apparent. "I'm fine." He answered shortly as he started to walk to his barracks. She sighed and nodded, knowing there was no arguing with him. As he walked his mind wandered to those memories.

"Гей, Кравченко! Давай!" A familiar voice called out, a much younger Mykyta turned to see one of the sergeants. "Everyone's in the meeting room, we're getting ready for Operation: Golden Hour, so c'mon! Captain is waiting for you." He grinned.

"Oh? I thought that wasn't for another hour?" He was confused but followed behind him. "Did it get moved up?" The sergeant nodded as he looked back at the lieutenant.

"Apparently the flight crew is ready to go and this is urgent apparently," He shrugged as he opened the door. "Didn't say anything other than that I'm afraid."

He sighed and nodded as he walked in. "Привіт, Night. Sorry for the short notice." Their captain spoke as he saw his second-in-command, who shrugged.

"Alright now that everyone is here...I'd like to give you some updates on this upcoming mission. I'd like to say this beforehand that I did not want UC Task Force 173 to be a part of this, but It has been brought to my attention that we are now needed for Operation: Golden Hour. The Russians are requiring help and lending us some of their pilots to get us in and out."

Everyone went quiet at the operation name, they had heard about that operation; the other teams barely came out alive with most of their people injured. Some people started whispering, but were cut off by the captain clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention once more.

“I know hearing the name makes you all fear, but we have the easy part. Getting the proof… It’s an in and out mission.”

“What if it isn’t?” One of the Russian pilots spoke up, she had transferred a few years back, never really working with the undercover teams.

“We’ll just see when it happens. You must be Aleksandra Artamova correct?” The woman nodded her head, she made eye contact with Mykyta before looking at the captain again. “Great, good to have you. You’ll be in charge of getting Night’s group to and from the operation site. Think you can handle that?”

“Да, дело несложное.” She answered before they went around and assigned the mission parts. Mykyta and Aleksandra’s eyes met and they gave each other an acknowledging nod.

Mykyta managed to get to his barracks as he shook his head, he walked in and didn’t see the Scotsman in there. He forgot he had to go train recruits today, he was luck it wasn’t him. He hated doing that mainly as they usually got on his nerves.

His mind started to wander again as he glanced at the small picture he had of his old team, a frown etched onto his lips.

The mission went to shit and quickly. They were ratted out by one of their lieutenants. Mykyta was currently fighting to get away from him, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he cried out in pain as pressure was put onto his left leg, he had been shot so many times. “Je vecht zoals je bent... een verdomde trut.” One of the enemy soldiers smirked as they walked over, the smaller man was thrashing around trying to get away. It wasn't until the soldier was barely in front of him that he had been shot down, blood pooling around him from the exit wound.

“Good to know you didn't die on us, Night.” It was their captain, it was then that he felt the weight from his back disappear and he heard a gurgling like noise, his eyes darted over to see Sparrow, as she preferred to be called out in the field. She had slit the traitors throat.

“Let's just get out of here already, the plane is ready to leave once everyone gets to the rendezvous spot.” She spoke as she dropped the corpse and went to help Mykyta up. The two nodded and they left, but that wasn't before everyone was nearly shot down. When they arrived at the plane it was just them, Mykyta could barely move without help and Sparrow had to rush to get them out of there.

Mykyta leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed, not noticing the way he was gripping the sheets. He was doing his best to keep himself together, this time thinking of a happy memory; when he got his call sign.

"You jinxed it, Alek..." He muttered to himself.

Their captain was walking into the common room early in the morning and nearly jumped when he saw Mykyta working on a small early morning sketch. “Damn it, Mykyta! You scared me.” He sighed.

The twenty-something man looked over and chuckled a bit. “Apologies, captain. Couldn't sleep so I came out here and sketch a bit.” He replied, looking at him.

“I've got a codename for you know, ніч.” He chuckled, and walked over to start the coffee machine. The others were pretty much asleep so no one would interrupt them.

“ніч…I like it.” He smiled as he looked over. “It fits me pretty well.” He chuckled softly.

The captain smiled at the younger man, barely out of his teens and already so deep into the military; he was impressed.

He took a deep breath and exhaled as he looked up at the bunk above him. He was only here because his captain made sure that he'd get transferred to a team that needed his skill set if something happened to the team which made it break apart.

He was lucky to have Aleksandra there with him, she knew what happened that day and knew that there was some reminder of the past and that he didn't dream of all that happening.

This is why he hated that damn question.

He didn't need a reminder.

TRANSLATION:

Гей, Кравченко! Давай! - Hey, Kravchenko! C’mere!

Привіт - Hello

Да, дело несложное. - Yes, easy thing to do

Je vecht zoals je bent... een verdomde trut. - You fight just like what you are...a damn bitch.

ніч - Night

[genma-support-group]

Shadows of the Republic

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors Don't Interact

Link to the rest of the chapters-> Shadows of the Republic

Summary: The fall of the Republic, and the birth of the Empire, Wolffe—a former clone Commander—finds himself in limbo. Battling his demons, as he struggles to create a life worth living, but that’s when a chance meeting with Jaina Pellian, a human woman who had fallen into the same trap as him. Will his life be better with her? Or will he suffer a loss he can’t recover from?

Tags: Heavy Angst, Angst and Romance, Inspired by Fight Club, Organized Crime, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Character Death, Kissing, Slow Build, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Hearing Voices, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

The room was quiet, a man whose right eye was replaced with an artificial one had also come with a nasty scar. Leaning on the armrest of the chair he sat in, his good eye scanned the faces of Twi’Leks, and other species of humanoid aliens that were waiting to be sponsored by a man who was anything but good. Shifting in his seat, knowing he smelled awful as many had moved away from him. A thing that sparked a memory for a particular clone—who he had found out at the time, never took showers when going to the front lines—amused at the memory. But time had passed, and the number of people in the waiting room lessened until it was just the clone, himself.

A droid, who reminded him of the gold-plated translator that he had often worked with during the Clone Wars, called him up to their desk. “He is ready to see you now.” It said with a cheerful voice before gesturing for the man to follow the tall humanoid who looked more human than whatever he was mixed with.

He followed the man through two large doors that hissed open, revealing a large room where the clone noted the deep color of red painted on the walls and the paintings that were of beautiful landscapes. Passing the couches that sat facing one another, the pair approached two chairs that sat in front of a wooden desk, where the tall man forcibly made the clone sit in an uncomfortable chair. The clone watches as the figure takes several steps back before his attention shifts to the man who stared outside the window that overlooked the busy streets of a planet happily named Alus. Clearing his throat, the human male turned to face the clone and smirked. Hands in his pockets as he approached the desk that stood between the two men.

“So, you want to be a fighter,” The man asks, wearing only the finest silks. “Clone right….?” He asked as he tugged at his suit before sitting down behind the desk. “I only sponsor the best fighters and have yet to see you fight in a single match.” He leans back in his chair. The man smiles as the clone in front of him frowns.

The nameless clone sat in rags as his armor—which was once an identifier of who he was—was damaged beyond repair. Its gray paint that he had worn proudly during the Clone Wars had chipped away, revealing the faint color of red that he once wore before switching to gray, where dark outlines of paint once were. His hands roll into tight fists as his good eye fills with anger, before closing his eyes. Taking a breath as he tries to collect himself, not wanting to blow his only chance at getting some sense of purpose. Adjusting in his seat, he lets out a frustrated sigh before finding his voice, a voice that was cool and collected was heard.

“I’ll fight for free, you can keep the winning credits, and just give me enough to get shelter as well as some food,” The clone says in a smooth voice. “I’ll make you credits and then you'll see the worth of my strength.”

“Worth of your strength?” The man says in return, almost in a chuckle. “Weren’t you a clone of Jango Fett? A great bounty hunter that has ever lived?”

The clone nodded.

“Well, you might look like him, and I am sure you have nothing but that alone in common,” The man says as he reaches for the round ball of metal that had been floating above the platform it came with. “What’s your name again, clone?” He finishes as he plays with the ball.

“Wolffe.”

The man shook his head as he tried to hold back his laughter. “What a stupid name, then again you are a clone, as I half expected you to give me a number,” He chuckles before going on. “Fine, I accept your offer, Wolffe, and as your sponsor, you’ll know my name as Gaver.”

Wolffe sat still, a flash of relief ran across his face.

“Now, my good friend over there,” He gestures to the man behind Wolffe. “Will take you to your new home, I'll give you some credits to get some new armor and food,” Gaver says as he places the metal ball back on the platform it was hovering previously. “Your first match will be in a month, be ready for it.” And with that, Gaver dismissed Wolffe, who stood up from his chair and was gestured by the tall man to move.

A few weeks had passed since Wolffe had become a fighter, finding himself lying flat on his bed that barely fit his size. The alarm had gone off twenty minutes prior, and he was less than willing to get up, seeming less than motivated to do anything but lie in bed. Even so, he moves the blanket off his naked body as he sits on the edge of the mattress. His face is in his hands as he takes a moment to collect himself. The echos of war still ring in his mind as he rose from the bed, bare to the world. He reaches for the door handle that opens to the short hall, where the bathroom sits with a broken door that had been moved to the side, allowing him to enter the small bathroom.

Wolffe stood for a moment leaning on the door frame as the muscles that he had grown while in the military had disappeared slightly into a thinner appearance. Rubbing his head as he steps through the threshold, an attempt to wake himself up further he catches his appearance in the mirror. His long out-of-regulation hair, and a beard to match forced him to lean on the sink as he checked himself out in the semi-broken mirror. Where he leaned back with a ‘humph’, that settled his thoughts, grabbing the razor that sat on the sink next to the faucet that was rusted to hell. The razor hovers over the facial hair, before he switches to the scissors that were in the cabinet where the mirror sat attached, cutting hands full of hair before he took a razor to his face.

By the time he was done, he had patches of paper stuck to his face and his wrinkles were apparent. The man who stared back at him in the mirror was once a great Commander who had done the unthinkable to a man that he thought of highly—some would say he thought of him as a father figure—but that wasn’t the Commander now. No, he thought, thinking back to that moment when he shot down his General, and his actions following it. Shaking his head as he turns away from the broken mirror, swallowing the past as he reaches for the handle that turned on the water. Cursing himself for his choices as he stepped into the chilling water that made him shake.

Grabbing the cloth that he used after showers, he pulled out the gray jumpsuit that he found in his size and by chance on sale. First slipping on a gray tank top that was a shade lighter than the jumpsuit itself. Allowing him to zip up the suit to his hips, where he sits on the uncomfortable mattress. In silence, he suffers through the memories as his head falls into his hands again. Tears threatened to fall when the sudden sound of a knock filled the small apartment that was on the second level.

Standing up quickly he zipped up his suit, and headed down the short hall, through the living room which was also a kitchen. Where he took a deep breath before answering, opening the door, revealing a smiley woman, with bright blue eyes and a smile that made his heart skip a beat—if only for a moment. Her cheerful smile had made him shiver, as she held up something that smelled good to him. A simple ‘Go ahead!’ left her lips, which was a shade of blue he hadn’t seen before on the otherwise normal-looking human woman. Taking the basket from her hands he mumbled a simple ‘thank you’ that earned him another smile.

“I have seen you around, and thought you might like something, fresh!” The woman said with a cheerful tone that seemed a bit off.

“Thanks,” Wolffe was able to get out as he held the basket. “What’s your name?” He was blunt.

“Millia, Millia Grene, what about you?” She smiled, brushing back her blonde hair behind her ear.

Wolffe paused as he scanned her face one last time before saying. “People call me Wolffe, that’s all.”

Millia nodded, biting her bottom lip as she stood in the hall for a second too long for Wolffe.

“Did you want something?” Wolffe asked, his tone harsh and rough.

Millia’s eyes lit up but shook her head ‘no’ before answering. “See you later then, you can keep that basket, if you want!” Her cheerful voice caused him to grunt, before closing the door on her.

Her muffled words caused Wolffe to rest the basket on the counter, as a familiar voice filled his mind. Telling him that she was a sweet soul and he shouldn’t be so difficult with a woman who wanted nothing more—the voice assumed—than to be friendly. His left-hand rests on the edge of the counter with the other hand on his neck, as he grows tense. The last week or so had been hard to adjust to, having a decent place to sleep and a good amount of food to keep him going. But nothing brought back his brothers or the man he betrayed.

Returning to his room, he stands in front of the stand that held his armor, armor that he had been stripped of its color. His good eye lingers on the chest plate that he had allowed himself to paint a small wolf outline, but that was all he allowed himself to do. ‘Hey Commander!’ a voice called out, causing him to frown as its tone was that of Comet, ‘The general would like to see you on the bridge, sir.’ his voice fades as the memory dissipates into nothing. Standing still as he was brought back to reality, where his good eye lingered on the picture and his fingers rubbed the paint that was mostly black but the outlines of its eyes were a solid gray, a color he could barely afford. Pulling his hand away as his attention shifted to his black boots that sat just under the armor.

Tags: @n0vqni @daisies-daydreams @carodealmeida @rexxdjarin

[tutyayilmazz]

"The true legends are totally casual"

They're young, they're smart, and they're from Rome: A conversation with Måneskin, one of the world's most successful rock bands Interview: Giovanni di Lorenzo

Måneskin for Zeit Magazin. paywalled but you can access it like this 🤫 i google and deepl translated it and fixed some sentences as much as i could but i'm far from being able to judge the accuracy of it all so there may be mistakes. anyway, the full article is under the cut, i highly recommend it, it goes quite into depth!

When they play concerts in the USA, they wrap themselves in the Italian flag. But they wouldn't do that at home in Rome: Måneskin, one of the most successful rock bands in the world. Band members Damiano David, Victoria De Angelis, Ethan Torchio and Thomas Raggi share why Mick Jagger knows who they are and how they take a stand without specifically talking about politics.

ZEITmagazin: When you are on tour abroad, talking to people, giving interviews - are people surprised that a young rock band that is successful all over the world comes from Italy?

Thomas Raggi: Always! At first everyone is amazed, there are a bunch of questions, some are very clever and interested and revolve around cultural differences. Other questions are just plain stupid: "Can you put pineapple on pizza?" There were such questions in America, for example.

Victoria De Angelis: But that's wearing off, everyone now knows that we're Italians. But somehow they are still surprised.

Ethan Torchio: Maybe also because nobody expected this kind of music from Italy. Often, however, we are so busy with our thing that we don't really notice how we are perceived from the outside. And actually our origin and the value of our music have nothing to do with each other. Values ​​are not tied to anything.

ZEITmagazin: In Germany music from Italy is associated with Gianna Nannini, Zucchero, Eros Ramazzotti beyond the hits. Many Italy lovers are familiar with Paolo Conte. But Lucio Battisti is not known here at all. His music is like the soundtrack of entire decades of life in Italy. Today, a quarter of a century after his death, it is still played daily on the radio. Can you relate to Battisti?

Damiano David: It's a long time ago, but that doesn't make it any less great, it's timeless. Of course he's light years away from our music, the complete opposite, but he's still fascinating for us.

ZEITmagazin: Why can music like that of Lucio Battisti stand the test of time?

Damiano: Because it captures something of its time, or rather: because it manages to be the expression of a break in time, to mark a turning point that many people may not understand until years later.

ZEITmagazin: If we stay with the image of Italy abroad, I would like to ask a question that I am often confronted with myself and which unfortunately usually leaves me quite at a loss: how is it possible that such a lovely country as Italy is governed by a post-fascist party together with a man like Silvio Berlusconi, who has committed serious crimes and only recently promised his football club AC Monza a minibus full of prostitutes if they beat big teams, and a Matteo Salvini, who delights in the idea of sending ​​refugees back again in the boat.

Damiano: For me there are two main reasons. For one thing, Italy has a short historical memory. We have forgotten the last right-wing government, we have forgotten what happened. Second, there's this vintage nostalgia: Everything that's old is beautiful. Cooking like in the old days, going on vacation like in the old days, the music of yesteryear...

ZEITmagazin: Does that also apply to fascism?

Ethan: In fact, there are still people who claim that everything was better in wartime. Totally crazy! I believe this latent glorification of the good old days has made neo-fascism socially acceptable.

Victoria: In my opinion, it also has a lot to do with ignorance. The bad thing is that the parties are counting on people's ignorance, their backwardness or their religious attitudes. And now we have a government that is committed to discrimination. Voting behavior is also to blame for this. A lot of people didn't vote at all. 40 percent of young people between 18 and 25 did not vote. That's a hell of a lot!

ZEITmagazin: Why is that?

Thomas: If I want a certain party to win or lose, I go to the polls. But when I don't have the itch and don't feel like getting up from my comfortable sofa to stand in line at some polling station, then this is how an election result happens. Almost everyone in the LGBTQ scene went to the polls and voted against Meloni because there is something at stake for these people. They know they are in literal danger, not just mentally but physically. But a lot of people who don't have a particular concern say to themselves: My voice won't change anything anyway.

ZEITmagazin: After Giorgia Meloni's election success in September, you, Damiano, posted: This is a sad day for my country...

Damiano: They slammed me for that. Both on social networks and on the radio.

ZEITmagazin: Italy used to be very leftist and had the largest communist party in Western Europe. Why has the left lost so much of its appeal ?

Thomas: It's difficult for us to judge. We have only experienced the last five years in a politically conscious manner. When you're thirteen or fourteen, you don't understand anything. That is why our political perspective is very limited. It is not for us to pass judgment on the decline of a political idea. What we have noticed to some extent are broken promises and this very disappointment that your own voice doesn't make a difference.

ZEITmagazin: Do you never hear, for example from your record label, that you should hold back on political issues?

Damiano: We found a pretty good balance because we never talk about specific politics. The four of us don't always agree politically. And we don't want to be political opinion makers or moralizers. We are talking about things that we understand go beyond any political discussion: we are against the war in Ukraine, we are against discrimination against minorities. Human rights are inviolable.

ZEITmagazin: Was Damiano's "Fuck Putin" spontaneous at the end of a concert at California's Coachella Festival, or did you talk about it beforehand?

Victory: That was spontaneous.

ZEITmagazin: But then you all bear the responsibility.

Victoria: Of course. If there is an attitude that should be taken for granted worldwide, then we position ourselves clearly and unequivocally. There should be agreement on this, regardless of whether I am on the right, left or whatever.

ZEITmagazin: Does the Catholic Church still have great influence in Italy today?

All: (ironic, in unison) No! What!

Victoria: It just acts more cleverly and makes less of an appearance.

ZEITmagazin: Under pressure from the church, the state broadcaster RAI in Italy did not play John Lennon's song "Imagine" in the early 1970s because it contains the lines "Imagine there's no heaven ... And no religion, too". These words were enough. In comparison, the influence of the church has become very small.

Victoria: But unfortunately it's still very big. Many people hold to the values ​​of the church. When our posters were to be put up in Rome , the church gave us difficulties. In the photo I was seen with my eyes rolled, you only saw the whites, that was too demonic for them. That's why we were banned from posting posters near the Vatican.

ZEITmagazin: But if that's true, then isn't that actually advertising for you?

Thomas: No. We hadn't told anyone that yet. You can now advertise for us. (laughs)

ZEITmagazin: When it comes to other topics, on the other hand, people are more relaxed in Italy than in America, for example: when Victoria lost her top at the MTV Awards and you could see her breasts, the pictures were immediately hidden. Something like that would be unthinkable in Italy, wouldn't it?

Damiano: In Italy we are more relaxed about nudity, less so about other things. In America, nudity is totally taboo. But you see guns everywhere.

Victoria: And you're not allowed to say swear words, they'll be censored immediately.

Damiano: When Victoria's nipple was censored, there had been a performance before us with all phallic symbols, but apparently that wasn't a problem. Male genitals are fine, females are not.

ZEITmagazin: Were you an outsider at school with your attitude, your hair, your outfits?

Ethan: Yes, we were different, we stood out, we experimented with our looks. I was quite the oddball at my school, wasn't bullied, but was the oddball compared to the others who all dressed alike. That is still the case today. They all look the same.

Damiano: It's about just not attracting attention, being as basic as possible , that's what we call it. The difference can only be determined by the price: You have exactly the same shoes as the others, but in the limited edition, which costs six times more.

ZEITmagazin: And at the same time, tolerance for deviations has decreased?

Ethan: Tolerance is a very sore point. You tell yourself that society is totally open, that the mentality has changed, because nowadays it sounds silly to say that I'm being laughed at because of my clothes. But in reality it's still the same. When I was little, that bothered me. In Italy it is much more extreme than in other countries. Here people are very conservative in many things, being different is perceived as threatening or wrong.

ZEITmagazin: Young men with long hair, for example?

Ethan: Totally. For me it was a filter to understand which people I can get involved with and which ones I would rather avoid. A lot of people have asked me: Why do you have long hair? I answered: Because I think it's beautiful. But you're a boy. So what? Yes, but it makes you look like a girl. That got on my nerves, but fortunately I didn't let it affect me. Nevertheless, I felt like an outsider and therefore discriminated against.

Damiano: If you read the comments and criticisms from Italy that we get on Facebook, for example, eighty percent of them are about our looks. As soon as we post a photo in which one of us shows a bit of skin or is dressed oddly, the comments rain down. It's damn sad to see the concentrated anger of these people putting others down. Why do you care how I dress? Why does it bother you when I'm at peace with myself and post a photo?

ZEITmagazin: Does that also apply to your lyrics?

Damiano: Yes, but paradoxically it's more about our looks. A lot of people don't even listen to our lyrics. They see the photos and hate it.

ZEITmagazin: Is it actually true that only one of you finished school and the others have thrown themselves into music?

Thomas: Actually we all jumped into the music. I graduated from high school, but that was something personal. We all made the same decision: we like it, it's going well, so we're going to give it our all.

ZEITmagazin: Even when you were not yet successful?

Thomas: Yes! Above all, Victoria's decision for music was very important as an impulse. We thought, if she dares, then we dare too.

ZEITmagazin: Did your parents agree?

Ethan: Agreed not. But they understood straight away that this is really important to us. So they gave us more freedom than most teenagers our age would have had. Of course, the school thing went against the grain for them. But they let us do it and believed in us.

ZEITmagazin: You, Damiano, allegedly only worked properly for a month in your life, and that must have been terrible.

Damiano: That was longer than a month. I was on the road as a representative for all kinds of wellness products, going door-to-door. The product range was broad - from cosmetics to mattresses. Our highlights were a coffee maker and a water filter, they cost a fortune, absolutely crazy. When I stood in front of people's doors, I felt like a thief. We got this gigantic nonsense drummed into our heads that we should tell them so they would pay 400 euros for a pillow. I was pretty good at it. But it was awful. I worked from June to September, in the hottest summer I was in a suit from morning to night and had to ride the subway from one end to the other, bathed in sweat.

ZEITmagazin: Did this time bring you anything that you benefit from today?

Damiano: You learn to face an audience, to interact with people, even if you annoy them. And you learn something for life: respect, discipline, punctuality. You learn to belong to a team and to subordinate yourself. You learn to be dependable even when you're totally exhausted: there are people working with you, so don't let them down.

ZEITmagazin: There is a difference between Italy and Germany that, for once, is not a cliché: in Germany children leave home as soon as possible after school, in Italy many are still living with their parents at 35. Why is that?

Victoria: I think about that quite often. In Denmark it is similar to Germany. However, young people there also have many more opportunities. In Italy, they're not just starved from an artistic point of view. There is hardly any support from the state, studying in Italy is very demanding: the requirements are high, there is no time for part-time work, and if you do not receive state aid or earn money on the side, it is practically impossible to leave home.

ZEITmagazin: So it's purely financial reasons?

Victoria: I think it also has something to do with our culture. In my circle of friends there are many parents who are very attached to their children and believe that they have to protect them and keep them at home as long as possible. It's different in other countries, in Denmark your parents kick you out when you're eighteen. Parents who say: Go away! – that is completely unimaginable in Italy. Here it says: No, but you are my child, stay with me, I will take care of you.

Damiano: Family is very important in Italy, but our generation would give anything to get away from home. They can't stand their parents anymore - with all their love. But they don't have the means. For example, I come from a perfectly normal family, we lack nothing, but for my older brother, who works and has a good job, it would be completely impossible at the moment to move out of our parents' house. I, on the other hand, was extremely lucky and was able to leave home early.

ZEITmagazin: You are all in their early twenties. Do any of you still live at home?

Ethan: We actually all fled.

Thomas: I'm still living with my parents at the moment, but I'll be taking the big step soon.

Damiano: But you were already living alone and thought it was stupid!

Thomas: I had this apartment in Trastevere, but it was six months at the most, that doesn't count. I wasn't really away from home at all, didn't have to take responsibility. Now something completely different is going on.

ZEITmagazin: Have you already confessed to your parents?

Thomas: Yes, and they didn't think it was that bad anymore.

ZEITmagazin: In Germany there is this saying: pinch me. Haven't the past few years been a bit unbelievable for you too?

Damiano: And how, every day! When we performed at the Circo Massimo last summer, and that too in Rome, in our city, I asked them to shine light at the audience because we don't see much on stage. Seventy thousand spectators - it was a sea of ​​people!

ZEITmagazin: In 2021, just a few months after winning the Eurovision Song Contest , you were the opening act for the Rolling Stones. You met Mick Jagger. How was he?

Victoria: Super cool.

Ethan: As you imagine him. Fully energized, enthusiastic. With that typical voice.

ZEITmagazin: Did he know who you are?

Damiano: Yes, he was fully aware. He had prepared. Keith Richards on the other hand was quite honest: I have no idea who you are, but I see the guitar, the drums – great, very good, keep it up. Ciao.

ZEITmagazin: At a Metallica concert, two of you - Victoria and Thomas - were said to be seen dancing enthusiastically in front of the stage like normal fans.

Thomas: Right! But we've already seen them in Rome. And in Milan. Before we met her, we were ardent fans.

ZEITmagazin: Would you say that the real artists stay approachable?

Damiano: Yes, by and large.

Victoria: But it's noticeable that today's superstars, especially the young ones, puff themselves up a lot. The true legends, on the other hand, are totally nonchalant, sitting in your studio and chatting for hours without making a fuss.

ZEITmagazin: Almost all old musicians say that what they did when they were young, they can no longer do today - if only because they are no longer politically correct.

Victoria: No, that wouldn't work anymore. Many of those who wrote rock history were totally crazy or permanently high.

Damiano: In the past, when you were crazy and stoned and doing crass stuff, people only noticed if you were a celebrity. Today, any no-name can pump themselves up on drugs, hop out the window, and go viral with it. Anyone can play rock star. Everyone wants to be important and nothing has meaning anymore.

ZEITmagazin: You smashed two instruments in Las Vegas, a classic rock gesture for which you were heavily criticized... Måneskin thinks that today's superstars, especially the young ones, would puff themselves up a lot.

Damiano: For us it was a way of celebrating the last concert. We enjoyed the moment, we didn't care what the social networks say about it.

Thomas: We used extra crappy instruments. I'm not going to smash a five-thousand-euro guitar! Do you think we're so stupid or what! That's what pissed me off the most. But you have to grown up and not give a shit.

Victoria: I find it hypocritical to accuse us of vandalizing instruments. When fireworks fly with other bands, no one says: A hundred thousand euros were blown away.

ZEITmagazin: Is there any of the old rock stars that you would like to meet?

Thomas: Jimmy Page.

Victoria: David Bowie. Unfortunately, that's not possible. So maybe Patti Smith.

Damiano: Me Paul McCartney.

Ethan: I almost said so too. But also Bono.

ZEITmagazin: What would you like to ask them?

Damiano: You always hear these stories from great bands, many of which, at least I think, are simply made up: They played this guitar riff – and boom, the song was there! But that's never how it works. I'd like to be told how it really was, firsthand. According to the motto: The story is a fairy tale, in reality it was very different...

ZEITmagazin: And how about you? It is said that the song "Zitti e buoni", which became your breakthrough, was so successful with young people in particular because it was an outcry against the Covid restrictions. Is that right?

Thomas: That's not completely out of thin air. In fact, Zitti e buoni was an expression of our anger at the time. We are so happy that people recognized themselves in it and made the song an anthem for their own causes. Of course, he was not only referring to the Covid situation, nor did he intend to call for a rebellion against the rules in force at the time.

ZEITmagazin: Is it true that you wrapped yourself in an Italian flag at a concert in the USA?

Damiano: That was probably me, because the audience throws everything at me and I'm the only one with my hands free.

ZEITmagazin: Unlike in Italy or America, in Germany this would be interpreted as a patriotic, if not right-wing, gesture.

Damiano: When we play in Rome, I wouldn't think of putting an Italian flag around my neck. But we are on tour in America, and there I show the flag to say: I am an Italian in the world.

ZEITmagazin: Was there a bit of pride involved?

Thomas: Of course, yes! That is celebrated.

Damiano: The more I see of the world, the more I'm convinced that Italy is the most beautiful country in the world, mistakes or not. Nothing to do.

Victoria: Italy is a wonderful country with great people. It cannot be compared to any other country. And it hurts that there are so many people who want to ruin it with their shit mentality. That's why we try to get a positive message across, to mess with it and change the attitude of these people.

ZEITmagazin: My favorite song of yours is "Vent'anni". It says: "I am afraid that I will only leave money in the world." Is that really a fear at your age?

Damiano: Less a fear than the awareness that this shouldn't happen. This sentence means that I not only want to leave the world what I have earned, but also create something that will stand the test of time, something that touches people's innermost being.

Thomas: We spoke earlier about Lucio Battisti. He and also Vasco Rossi, another great Italian singer, will never die.

Damiano: Because they've influenced generations, who in turn influence their children. This is the legacy that counts and that you want to leave behind.

[groundedintruth]

my grandfather's will

writing can be the easiest thing and hardest thing for me. so is expressing emotion. & so is patience & so is allowing grief.

i like to hide behind metaphors. & i like to keep my worlds separate. i like to move in and out of groups without belonging; a presence that is felt but does not alter the group dynamic.

i like the one to one. and keeping my family to myself. keeping my thoughts to myself. & oversharing. & not getting to the point. the point is in the title but it's a place i cannot land on unless i write it out. contrary to what i reflect outside of my thoughts, i always know where i'm headed, i just don't want to go there yet. but i know that i cannot move unless i let it out- unfiltered and unedited and without form.

my grandfather's will is a one page pdf shared on the family whatsapp group. & when i cannot move, i read. so i read every post that a distant relative wrote about my grandfather on facebook. i read every blog post about him i can find on the internet. i read the forwarded messages from family groups i never joined or participate in. i read his absence on my mother's face. and i read his will.

the truth is that to eulogize my grandfather is to archive the fall of a country & im not ready to do either.

my grandfather passed away in Sudan while fleeing the war in khartoum. the news of his death in madani arriving hours after the joy expressed at his safety.

i feel the agony & relief in my mother's voice knowing that at least he made the trip. that at least this way his life will be mourned where his body is buried. & idk if we can ever get past the guilt of leaving, all kinds of leaving. my mother's premonition of loss of all kind is one thing i inherited. and yet there's nothing we can do to influence or rewrite history.

my mother stuck in egypt unable to see her father one last time. unable to be at the funeral. and unable to mourn. my grandfather's death, like his life, is political. & it hurts that a man who dedicated his life to his country and justice leaves it the way he has. & its absurd. & it makes sense why every thought i have about him can be translated to a political statement. & i dont want that truth to detach me from the emotions i embody.

my grandfather's will is a one page pdf of everything i already knew. the date of his death. my grandmother's widow status, his only wife. the names of the children survived by the memory him, in wrong order. & the technicalities of sharia inheritance. it doesn't mention his life. his contributions to sudan's judicial system, erased by the regime. his constant fight to correct that regime and every regime that crumbled before. or the sacrifices he made for the sake of truth.

as a child i didnt really care about my grandfather's upholding of fairness in the choices he made for sudan. i cared about the unfairness I felt when i couldn't get more candy than my cousins. i remember being sad one candy distribution day when i waited my turn and didn't get any. facing my bratty pout with a smile, he presented me with a chocolate bar instead. he said he knew that i don't actually like candy. that i was the only grandchild who preferred chocolate. & maybe i have or maybe i haven't said it, but that was, actually, the truth.

i remember being five sitting on my grandfather's bed before his daily glass of milk to end the day. & he is telling me all about the thoughts I thought adults don't share, ranking his favourite people with a bluntness and fondness i learned to believe can coexist. & my mother is her father's daughter. their fascination with the law and crime fiction and with justice was a love for uncovering the truth. No sugarcoating ever. and when people are remembering his generosity, his courtroom heroism, and isolated incidents, all I can think about is his approach to life and how it affected my mother's and mine. his unwavering sense of justice above all else, his search for truth in every interaction, and his ability to give endlessly, unheard of and uknown, apparent only in the testimonies shared by the gratitude he left behind. and i wonder if i have inherited any of that.

my grandfather was the first person to take me to a museum. insisting to take me everywhere that tells a story. a well of love & knowledge. my grandfather, a few animals, a cousin I hated sharing the day with, and i immortalised in a photo i lost in a cafe in khartoum. photos that may not exist anymore, places that don't exist anymore and my grandfather..

my grandfather's will couldn't grant him his last wish: seeing the people he loved the most by his side. stuck between borders. unable to leave and unable to return. our absence like every sudanese absence is political.

[proletetley]

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

Title: On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

Author(s): Ocean Vuong

Year: 2019

Nationality: Vietnamese American

Original language: English

Translator(s): None

Trigger Warnings: Domestic abuse, war, loss

Genre(s): Autobiographical, epistolary, coming-of-age novel

Pages: 242

Started reading: 26/11/2022

Finished reading: 02/12/2022

Synopsis: A man writes a long letter to her mother, who cannot read, in which he describes moments of their family life and their individual lives

Mood(s): Melancholic, confessional

Themes: Family, war, childhood, loss, LGBTQ+, communication, immigration, race

Time setting(s): 1955 - 1975, 1990s, 2000s, 2010s

Location setting(s): Vietnam, US

Writting style: Poetic prose with beautiful imagery but still accessible to a reader not used to poetry

Pace / Rhythm: Slightly slow at times, but generally well-paced

Review: I went into this novel quite blindly, not knowing anything about the plot. The poetic writing had me a bit confused at first on where this would be going, but I soon managed to follow the story and fall in love with it.

We follow his relationship with his mother, full of ups and downs, with both their childhoods not short of complications and trauma, and yet described beautifully, with understanding and compassion.

The novel is a letter addressed to a mother who can never read it, which makes it possible for the protagonist to tell her his life without censoring anything, like the rawest of confessions, even though no sin was committed.

At the same time, it comments on the Vietnam war and its aftermath, how it affected both countries throughout various generations, even the ones that arrived long after it was over.

On its more coming-of-age side, we find the pain and issues of growing up as a queer POC and loving someone who is not ready to face their own queerness, and who will never be.

It is a letter full of memories, both good and bad, happy and tragic, full of the warmth of autumn and pine trees and sunsets, but also of the starkness of fluorescent lights and needles and cement.

Rating: 4.8 ⭐️

Quotes:

"The eye, alone in its socket, doesn't even know there's another one, just like it, an inch away, just as hungry, as empty."

"It was there, inside the song, that you had permission to lose yourself and not be wrong."

"It is no accident, Ma, that the comma resembles a fetus — that curve of continuation. We were all once inside our mothers, saying, with our entire curved and silent selves, more, more, more. I want to insist that our being alive is beautiful enough to be worthy of replication. And so what? So what if all I ever made of my life was more of it?"

Felt: Quite emotional when the topic of death would come up, and angry at war and how it affected not only those who lived it but also the generations that came after

Learnt: More about the Vietnam war and Vietnamese culture

To research: The influence of French on Vietnamese

What made me read it: A friend recommended the author, and I was curious about how a poet would write prose

Expectations: Beautiful writing

Reality: Outstanding writing, so delicately crafted, and a moving story of love and hate

Reminded me of: Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner and The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan

Notable scenes (not spoiler free): His grandma's last breath. It hit so close to home I almost flung the book against the wall

Notable characters: His grandma

Questions for the author(s): How do you think of such gorgeous titles like wtf man

Recommendable: Definitely

[omgrachwrites]

High Adventure - Ezio Auditore

Pairing: Ezio Auditore x Reader

Summary: When you hear the news of your awful fiance's death, you travel to Tuscany to meet the man that took his life, and saved yours in return.

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of abuse, mentions of death

Words: 1379

Translations: Nipote - Nephew

Buon pomeriggio - Good Afternoon

A/N: So, this is just a short little something I cooked up when I was playing AC II, I am so sorry if I've butchered Ezio's character, and I'm so sorry if the Italian is wrong! Please let me know what you think please enjoy, I love you all! xxx

It was a beautiful day in Firenze, or at least that was what it looked like from the intricately designed windows of your families’ grand house. With a small sigh and a longing look, you gazed out the window at the endless blue sky. You ached for the days when you could walk the streets of the beautiful city until your heart was content. Now, you hardly had a moment to yourself, you were either with your fiancé or you were preparing from your wedding.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother glance over at you with a small smile. You wondered if she knew that you had been sneaking out of the city in the early hours of the evening and returning in the morning before anyone had awoken. You needed to learn how to protect yourself, your future husband was a tyrant. But no, your mother couldn’t know, if she’d even had the smallest inkling then you would be locked in the tower until your wedding day.

“Y/N?” your father called from the hallway, startling you out of your daydream.

“Papa? Is everything alright?” you asked, getting to your feet right away.

Your father’s eyes were soft and sympathetic, and his hair was dishevelled like he’d been running his fingers through it, “no, everything is not alright. I need to speak with you.”

Your mother almost got to her feet but your father stopped her with a wave of his hand, “just Y/N and I.”

You thought it was odd but you didn’t comment on it as you followed your father out of the room. He paced up and down the length of the hallway, looking distressed before he finally glanced up at you.

“I don’t know of a kinder way to say it, but,” he hesitated, taking a deep breath, “Vieri is dead.”

Your stomach jolted and your heart leapt for joy – as awful as it sounded. You were free, you didn’t have to marry the monster who had torn your innocence from you so cruelly, “what?” you gasped, you were so shocked that somebody had managed to kill him. The Pazzi had always seemed so invincible, “who killed him?”

Your father rested a hand on your cheek, “it was Mario Auditore.”

You fought hard to keep your face neutral, Mario Auditore had been the one teaching you how to fight, Mario was the only one who knew what Vieri had done to you. You also knew that the Pazzi had killed his brother and two of his three nephews. Though, you hadn’t been training with Mario of late, he’d been much too busy with his nephew, who you’d never met.

“I’m so sorry, my darling,” your father tried to pull you into his arms but you held him back. You had to go to the villa in Tuscany.

“I’m sorry, Papa but I just need some time alone,” without waiting for an answer, you ran out of the house and into the warm sunlit streets.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips as you ran through the streets, not giving a care about the looks you were getting from strangers. You felt free, for the first time in about a year, you felt well and truly free. You didn’t stop running until you reached the stables and with burning legs, you mounted a chestnut horse and rode all the way to Tuscany.

As you reached the villa, you all but vaulted off the horse and ran into the town, you got a lovely surprise as you walked through the town. The town was much more lively and some of the crumbling buildings had been renovated, it was clear that Mario’s nephew had helped to restore them.

As you walked through the courtyard, you nodded a greeting to one of Mario’s associates and noticed that he was speaking with a very handsome man. You found Mario in his study as usual and as soon as you saw him, you couldn’t help but call out to him.

“You did it, Mario! You killed, Vieri!” the older, weathered man smiled at you kindly as he shook his head, his eyes twinkling,

“I wish that I had delivered the final blow but I’m afraid that honour belongs to my nipote, Ezio,” he gestured at something over your shoulder.

With a raised eyebrow, you turned around and found yourself face to face with the handsome man that you had seen in the courtyard. Ezio was very handsome with warm eyes and there was a scar down his lip and you vaguely wondered how he got it.

“Buon pomeriggio,” Ezio grinned as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the top of it as he kept eye contact with you. You just knew that he was a favourite of the ladies.

“Ezio, this is Y/N Y/L/N,” Mario started, “she was intended to be Vieri de’ Pazzi’s bride.”

At once, the smile on Ezio’s face dropped and he looked down at the floor as a muscle fluttered in his jaw and you didn’t miss the deep look of guilt that flashed across his face, “I am sorry for your loss.”

With a smile, you cupped his rough jaw and he looked at you, there was some sort of wounded look in his eyes, “you killed him, thank you, you saved my life,” you whispered before you pulled him into a hug, resting your cheek against his chest, listening to the deep thump of his heart. You felt his body tense before he relaxed and he wrapped his arms around you.

Mario cleared his throat which forced you and Ezio away from each other, you gave each other sheepish smiles as Mario chuckled, “how about you show Y/N around the new and improved town?”

“Of course, Uncle,” Ezio bowed his head and offered you his arm, “shall we?” he grinned cheekily, raising an eyebrow.

You giggled as you placed your arm in Ezio’s, “lead the way.”

The blazing sun was high in the cloudless sky, casting the villa and the town in a golden light, it looked so beautiful. You were worried about who your parents were going to push you to marry but that was a worry for another day, golden afternoons shouldn’t be spent plagued with worries.

“I’m so sorry for the loss of your father and brothers, Ezio,” you sighed as you looked up at his handsome profile.

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his long dark hair before he offered you a small smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling, “thank you, I miss them very much. But, with Vieri dead my soul can rest a little easier. Though, my work is far from over in fact, it’s only just begun.”

You smiled as you could hear children playing in the distance and you could smell the growing fruit in the nearby villages, “I think you’re doing the whole world a service.”

Ezio grinned and ducked his head but you could still see his blush, “so why are you happy that Vieri is dead? Was he awful to you?”

You bit your lip as you almost felt a dark shadow settle over the both of you and you almost shuddered at the awful memories, “he was awful, as awful as you could ever imagine a man to be.”

Ezio pulled his arm from yours and rested his hand on the small of your back, rubbing his thumb in comforting circles, “I am so sorry.”

You forced a smile as you looked at the assassin, “it’s all over with now isn’t it. Though, I’m worried about who my parents will pick next for a suitor,” you sighed.

Ezio looked pensive as you passed by a giggling group of whores, “why don’t you come with me on my journey?”

You almost laughed out loud, you had hardly been out of Tuscany but you couldn’t go with a perfect stranger, no matter how much the thrill of adventure called you, “we’ve known each other for all of five minutes.”

Ezio shrugged, “just think about it, Y/N.”

“I will, I will think about it, Ezio Auditore,” you might have sounded crazy but you were ready for a high adventure.

[randomshyperson]

Sorry for your loss - Final Chapter

Summary: When your wife Natasha passes away in a car accident, a part of you dies with her. It takes a few months of mourning for your psychiatrist thinks the best alternative is for you to join a grief group. And there you meet Wanda Maximoff, and learn to live again.

Warnings: (+16) mentions of death, panic attacks and anxiety, grief, self sabotage, mentions of abusive family background, mutual attraction pining, explicit consent, therapeutic conversations about death, self-deprecation, healthy methods of coping with grief, possible triggers about anxiety, domestic Wanda, hurtful behaviors. 

Chapter Warnings: Mention of Smut, Brief Smut.

Tag list: @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @imapotatao // @aimezvousbrahms / @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia // @myperfectlovepoem

Author’s note: I don't know what to say exactly, just good reading, and sorry for any spelling/translation errors. I hope you enjoy the ending, and who knows, maybe a second season?

Read on AO3 || Serie Masterlist here

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Chapter Five - I will love again

You were up early on the weekend.

Since you were going to travel to New Jersey for Wanda's father's wedding anniversary, you didn't want to keep her waiting.

When you arrived at Wanda's house, she was already on her feet, running back and forth through the house, trying to find Tommy's lost toy, who kept crying that he wouldn't travel without it.

"Make yourself at home, I just need to find that bear." She said to you as she opened the door. You placed your only luggage on the floor as you looked around. Billy was watching television, and Tommy was sitting on the kitchen counter, crying.

You walked over to him.

"Hey, Tommy, why are you crying?" You asked stopping beside him, keeping your voice calm so as not to make him more nervous.

"I want my teddy bear!" He cried out between tears.

"Mommy will find it for you." You reply. "What is the name of your teddy bear?"

"Star Lord." Sniffles the boy. Your distraction is working, because he stops crying to talk.

"Wow, that's an incredible name!" You say. "How did you get the Star Lord?"

Tommy sniffles again, wiping his tears with his forearm.

"I got it for my birthday." He counters. "Billy got a skateboard, but Star Lord is cooler."

"Is that so?" You retort with interest in your voice, realizing that Tommy was barefoot and his socks were on the countertop, you show him that you are interested in hearing him talk as you help him finish getting dressed for the trip.

"Yes, it came in a huge, red box." Tommy counted with a smile as he gestured at the size of the object. "And he sleeps with me every night, so I need him to go to Grandpa's house."

"Oh, yes, of course you do." You agree with a smile as you tie the boy's shoelaces. "Do you remember the last place you played with Star Lord?"

Tommy sniffles thoughtfully.

"I don't know." He replies tearfully, you rush to ask about his favorite memory with the bear to avoid him to cry again, and it works.

When you finish tying the child's shoes, you pick him up on your lap as he tells you about the day he took Star Lord swimming, and then you sit him down in the living room next to his brother, and he is distracted enough by the cartoon on the TV to forget about the teddy bear.

Wanda joins you in the living room a minute later, looking nervous and with her hands empty.

"Hey, I think I have an idea." You tell her as you mentally review the things Tommy said. "Finish getting them to the car, I'll go find the bear."

You found it.

Ten minutes after you left the room, inside the pool.

Wanda couldn't hold back her laughter when you arrived in front of the car with your wet clothes up to pool height.

"Your idea was to get into the pool instead of using the cleaner to reach the bear?" She teased as soon as you handed her the toy. You laughed awkwardly, watching her give the bear to Tommy and seeing the boy celebrate excitedly. "You're not getting in my car wet like that."

You laugh, and then you have an idea. Approaching Wanda with open arms, you see her raise her finger in warning, but you are already hugging her with wet clothes, making her laugh.

The joke only ends because Pietro is parking the car in front of the house next, looking at you both curiously.

"Should I let dad know we're going to be late?" He teases putting his sunglasses up. You let go of Wanda as both of your giggles slowly stop, the two of you looking like children who have been caught up to mischief. "Come on girls, we have a road ahead of us."

"Shut up Pietro." Wanda grumbled humorously, starting to push you into the house by the shoulders. "Watch the boys while we get changed."

"Yes, ma'am." He retorted wryly as he took off his seat belt and got out of the car. You let Wanda push you inside.

Upstairs, you had smiles on your faces as she searched for clothes that would fit you.

"Are you sure it isn't better if I grab something I brought in my suitcase?" You ask distractedly as Wanda rummages through the closets.

"I don't want you to be one change of clothes short, I don't know what we'll end up doing over there." Wanda retorted. "And don't worry about it."

Wanda eventually handed you a set of very soft sweatshirts and underwear. You smiled in appreciation, looking away from the clothes in your hand to the woman in front of you.

As you turned toward the bathroom, Wanda spoke.

"You can stay."

Swallowing dryly, and ignoring the unregulated beating of your heart you turned to her again, one eyebrow raised not sure you had understood correctly.

Wanda sighed heavily, as if she was gathering the courage to say it again. But her gaze said it all. She was inviting you to change in front of her.

You felt your face heat up, but you gulped dryly, forcing yourself to reason correctly.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Wanda retorted in defiance, and you let out a breathless laugh. She seemed to misunderstand your reaction, because her expression immediately fell. "Oh, you don't want to. Damn it, I..."

"What?" you interrupted quickly. "No, Wanda. I want to." You confess half breathlessly. "I really do."

"Oh." 

You shift your weight between your feet, feeling your stomach turn with the way Wanda looks at you. 

"But not like this." You say, swallowing dryly to confess correctly. You approach Wanda slowly as you speak. "Not in a hurry." Wanda breathes heavily, leaning back against the cabinet. You stop walking just inches from her body. "I want to be with you, with enough time to kiss every inch of your skin.” You confess again her lips. “Touch every spot that will make you lose control and scream my name."

"Fuck." Wanda gasped against your mouth, almost near enough to touch while closing her eyes. 

Ignoring the tightening sensation at the tip of your stomach, you fought your baser instincts and pulled away, sighing.

"Let's hurry before your brother comes to get us."

You smiled at Wanda, ignoring the urge to kiss her. She just nodded, trying to normalize her breathing. You took advantage of her lack of reaction to turn around and walk towards the bathroom. You had better get out of there soon, because you feel that you couldn't resist that woman again.

//-//

Tommy and Billy were singing in the back seat as you drove to New Jersey. You laughed at the scene, thinking they were adorable.

Your gaze was watchful on the road, following Pietro's car to his father's house.

When Wanda began to murmur the song, you looked at her for a moment. Absolutely stunning, with her red hair flying in the wind, the smile in the corner on her lips. The sunlight making her eyes sparkle.

Turning your attention forward because Wanda caught you looking, you bit back a smile, feeling your heart race a little. But neither of you commented, and you didn't care that Wanda was looking at you now.

//-//

When you arrived, you whistled impressed at Erik's residence. It was practically a mansion, but really it was just a very well built summer house. The neighborhood was very nice too. Wanda smiled playfully at you when she noticed your reaction.

The boys ran out of the car, excited to hug their grandfather who was already waiting for them at the door. They also hugged Charles, who was a short, balding man, very friendly.

"Grandpa, can we go ride the horses?" Tommy asked excitedly, and the man laughed lightly. 

"Go wash your hands and get something to eat first okay, boy?" Erik said to the boy, ruffling his hair.

The child agreed, entering the house along with his brother and his cousin, who had gotten out of the cars shortly after.

You were unpacking the bags from the car after parking and felt your breath catch when Wanda picked up one of the bags and caressed your hand with her fingers as you handed it to her. She smiled innocently, passing you to walk toward the door, and you cleared your throat before closing the trunk and following her.

"You must be Y/N." Erik greeted you as soon as you came to the door. "It's very nice to finally meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, Erik." You replied with a smile. "And you too, Charles."

The man smiled, giving you room to pass him and enter the house. Wanda was standing in the living room next to Pietro and Monica, who had their suitcases on the floor.

"Papa, which rooms are empty?" She asked the man who had entered behind you.

"You can occupy any one upstairs." Erik warned closing the door as he and Charles entered.

You accompanied the group upstairs. Wanda placed the boys' backpacks in one of the bunk rooms, since the children always slept together. 

"You can have the room down the hall." She said, showing you the direction. "Next to mine."

She whispered the last part like a secret. You wanted to ignore how your stomach churned at the suggestion. Pietro and Monica passed you both, the man gave you a playful look, but made no comment. They would be in the room across from yours and next to the children's.

You guessed that the other door at the other end of the hall belonged to Erik and Charles

After putting your suitcase on the bed, you left the room. Pietro opened the door at the same moment.

"Come on, Y/N, I'm going to give you a full tour of the Maximoff residence." He announced excitedly and you giggled, following him around the house.

//-//

The Maximoff residence was much larger than you thought it was. There were even stables and a large wooded area that was part of the place, but Pietro didn't take you there, he just pointed you in the direction. You eventually discovered that the place used to be a simple farm, inherited from Pietro and Wanda's paternal grandparents, and when Erik married Charles, they renovated the place with money from the Xavier family, who were British and had a fortune built up in the vineyard area.

Pietro led you back to the kitchen when he finished showing you the property, patting you on the shoulder as he sat down on the kitchen counter, grabbing the jar of candy on the counter.

"The guests will be here soon, Pietro, get down from there." Warned Erik noticing his son's position. He was in the kitchen too, finishing sorting out some of the appetizers. During the tour, you noticed the decorations set up in the gardens, some tables and chairs and party decorations.

"Yes, papa." Grumbled Pietro as he obeyed. He reached over to accept the tray of food his father handed him.

"Take that outside please." Erik asked and you moved to get out of the way of Pietro, who gave you a wry smile as he passed, making you laugh slightly.

"Can I help too?" You asked noticing that there were still things to be carried.

"Thank you, dear, you are very kind." Erik said as he handed you one of the trays. You nodded and then turned around.

The garden was really nicely decorated, you noticed now that you were up close, placing your tray on one of the tables. There was also a small stage, which you imagined was meant for Erik and Charles to repeat their wedding vows. You smiled, remembering how your marriage to Natasha had gone. It was just nostalgic to think of her now, and it didn't make you unhappy anymore.

"I think you're all set now." Erik said behind you, arriving with a tray and placing it on the table next to yours. Pietro who had left earlier, was stealing one of the candies and received a disapproving look from his father. "Really, boy?"

Pietro laughed, raising his hands in surrender.

"I'm hungry, papa." He playfully retorted and you laughed at the interaction.

"Go help the ladies with the kids." Erik commands with a grimace, and Pietro laughs as he walks away. When he leaves, you feel slightly anxious about being alone with Wanda's father, but his posture is friendly. "I haven't had a chance to talk to you properly, Y/N. Would you like to take a walk with me before the party?"

You ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach when you agree. And Erik takes one last look at the decorations before leading the way.

//-//

A few minutes of walking later, where Erik asked you several questions about your life, your job, your age, who you lived with, that sort of thing, you reached a plantation area. You imagined it to be the vineyards of the property.

You could see the manor house in the distance, and the backyards, and a lake many meters away. The landscape was breathtaking.

"It's beautiful here." You comment beside him.

"Yes." Erik agrees with a smile, also looking at the scenery as you do. "I enjoyed your conversation, you are as lovely as Wanda usually tells us."

The comment makes your cheeks warm, the image of Wanda talking about you makes your heart soar. Erik seems to appreciate the way you react to it, smiling gently as he adds, "It's nice to know she's found someone nice to love."

You swallow dryly, glancing quickly at the man next to you, but he has his gaze on the landscape. You feel a warmth in your chest, mixed with embarrassment and happiness.

"Thank you, Erik." You say clumsily. 

"For what?"

"For accepting me here I guess." You retort with a smile. "For having me into your home. And well, for saying those things about me and Wanda." You say and he makes an understanding noise through his mouth. You are silent for a moment, until he speaks again.

"You know, when Magda, their mother, passed away, I thought I would never love anyone again.." Erik tells nostalgically. He keeps looking at the field in front of you, but you stare at him, attentive to his words. "But then I met Charles. And well, it did. It's different from what it was before. And I wouldn't change it for anything."

You nodded in understanding, letting the words echo in your head. You also think about how Agatha said you could move on. There was no problem in loving again, as intensely as before.

"I figured I'd be uncomfortable talking about someone marrying my daughter, but here we are." Erik comments humorously a moment later, making you chuckle awkwardly. "I guess it must be the way you look at her. You look like a lovesick puppy. "

You scratch your neck awkwardly, looking at the scenery, making Erik laugh at your blurriness.

"Don't get upset, I'm just teasing you." He comments with a smile, patting you on the back. You laugh clumsily.

"Do you guys have a garden around here?" You ask trying to change the subject, just as you notice the glass structures in the distance, capped by the vineyard. You figured if you turned around you would find your way to them.

"Oh, yes." Erik confirms. "Charles loves gardening. We have two greenhouses over that way. Would you like to see them?"

"Yes." You confirm with a smile. "But it can be after the party."

"Oh yes, I should get back and welcome the guests." Erik agrees as he checks his watch. You start walking back to the area of the house next.

//-//

You meet a lot of people at the party. It's a little overwhelming, because you really didn't expect Erik to invite so many people, and although you're glad that they had so many friends, your anxiety has increased a little. You were smiling politely at two ladies who said they were Charles' college friends while trying to pay attention to the story they were telling when Pietro rescued you.

"I need to steal my sister-in-law for a second ladies." He said and you widened your eyes. He only realized the mistake of his words when he noticed the looks on the women's faces in front of him. " Shit, I don’t mean like she got married to Wanda... I..."

You snuck out from behind Pietro when the ladies started attacking him with questions about the wedding, and when the ceremony had taken place and why the family wasn't called. You took the opportunity to escape when Pietro was convincing the ladies that you were not Wanda's wife, and that there was no secret wedding.

Walking over to one of the far tables, you frown in disbelief as you watch Luna run under the food table, clearly looking for a place to hide from her cousin, who is looking around a few feet away.

You crouch down, pulling the towel up to speak to the child.

"Luna, honey, maybe that's not the best place to play." You tell her with a smile. She looks around.

"Sorry, Aunt Y/N." She asks. "I'm hiding from Billy."

"Oh, is that so?" You ask extending your hand to her. She accepts, and you help her stand, taking care that she doesn't hit her head on the table. "Do you remember the path we took when we first got here? Try to hide behind that tall statue, I'm sure Billy won't find you."

"Wow, that's right, Auntie. Thank you." She mumbles, leaving with her head down next, watching for any sign of her cousin. You smiled, knowing that everyone at the party would get a glimpse of the children playing if she stood where you spoke.

You noticed that the two women who were talking to Pietro looked at you, and not wanting to be dragged back into that conversation, you made your way back to the house.

Bumping into Wanda on the way, you giggled.

"There you are." You remark.

"Where were you?" Wanda retorts with a mixture of curiosity and humor, noticing your "escape mode" posture.

"Well, apparently all of your father's friends like to meet everyone, so I've spent the last thirty minutes being introduced to everyone at the party."

Wanda gave a pout of pity.

"Sorry, dear." She says and you smile awkwardly, feeling your cheeks flush. "I'm looking for the boys, they need to change for the suits." 

"I saw Billy in the gardens." You tell her as you gesture briefly in the direction. "I'll go find Tommy for you."

Wanda smiles, biting her lips. You nod but when you make mention of moving away, she holds your forearm and moves forward, depositing a kiss on your cheek. 

"Thank you, sweetheart." She whispered, smiling mischievously at you before she turned away and left the kitchen. You bit your lip, feeling your heart racing. You didn't understand why Wanda was teasing you, but you weren't complaining.

//-//

Non Readers Pov

Wanda laughed affectionately when Billy launched himself onto her lap as soon as she found him in the backyard.

"Luna, dear, your mother is calling you too." Warned the red-haired woman to her niece who nodded turning toward the direction her aunt pointed. 

"Mommy can I play after I change my clothes?" Asked the boy as the woman carried him back to the house.

"Of course honey, but you have to be careful, okay? You can't get your suit dirty."

Just before she reached the entrance, someone called her name, causing Wanda to turn her head curiously.

"Sweetie, I need to ask you something." It was Ruth Eisenhardt, a nasty distant cousin of Wanda's known for gossiping, and lots of it, about all her relatives. "I just heard from Aunt Susan that you are dating that pretty girl you brought over." 

Wanda felt her face heat up, but kept her expression impassive. Before she could add anything else, the woman was speaking again.

"Of course we are all happy for you, but when I went to share the good news with Uncle Jeff, he said that Pietro had already denied this affair. Now I'm left not knowing if you're really going out with that beefcake."

Wanda let out an awkward giggle, frowning slightly at the way her cousin spoke.

"We're not exactly together, cousin." The redhead replied. "But that's not really your business."

Ruth grimaced in surprise, but then her expression changed to one of malice.

"You know, I'm just confirming it. Because after all, we don't have pretty things like that lying around in New Jersey."

Wanda clenched her jaw. Ruth was exactly the kind of girl who had a mania for taking what didn't belong to her.

"Cousin, don't flirt with her." Wanda said. "I'll only warn you this once."

Ruth giggled, surprised at the reaction. But Wanda didn't continue the subject, turning and continuing toward the entrance of the house.

"Mom what's flirt?" Billy asked next, drawing Wanda's attention away from her own not-so-pleasant thoughts about someone taking what was hers.

"It's a way adults talk, honey." Wanda explained, biting her lips thoughtfully briefly. "When they want to be more than friends."

"Like best friends?"

Wanda laughs briefly, denying it.

"No, Billy. Like lovers."

Billy makes a noise of agreement. "Why can't Aunt Ruth flirt with Aunt Y/N?"

Wanda sighs lightly, forcing a friendly expression so as not to confuse her son.

"She can."

"But you told her..."

"I know." Wanda interrupts with red cheeks. She takes a deep breath, smiling at her son. "Can I ask you something sweetie?" Billy nods in agreement. "If mommy started dating someone, would you be upset?"

Billy frowns, denying it.

"Mommy, you want to date Aunt Y/N don't you?"

Wanda's eyes widen in surprise.

"Where did that one come from?" she asked.

"You didn't like it when Aunt Ruth flirted with Daddy either, I remember Aunt Monica's birthday." He tells, and Wanda sighs slightly, remembering when she caught Ruth complimenting her husband as she ran her hands through her hair, and Wanda might have gotten a little carried away by accidentally flipping a wine glass in her cousin's lap. On the way home, when the twins asked, she said that she was upset with the way Ruth spoke to their father, and now Billy was able to understand everything. "And now you don't want Aunt Ruth to talk to Aunt Y/N like that." He concluded as if it was obvious. Wanda smiled as she went upstairs, careful not to trip on the steps with Billy on her lap. "Mommy, if you date Aunt Y/N will she move in with us?"

"I don't know dear." Wanda replied with a shy smile. 

"If she lives with us, will you let her sleep in my room?"

Wanda laughed, looking at Billy curiously.

"And why is that?"

"Because she knows how to play dragon. And also tell fairy tales." He says counting on his fingers. "And she also helps Tommy with his headache, so she can sleep on our rug and when he wakes up at night, she helps him."

Wanda smiles fondly, shaking her head slightly.

"Those are very good reasons indeed." She says. "But I think Y/N would like to sleep in a bed, no? The floor is uncomfortable."

Billy looks thoughtful and Wanda laughs briefly as she sets him down on the floor, already inside his room. She helps him out of his clothes to put on his party suit that is already on the bed.

"I can sleep in your bed mommy, and then Aunt Y/N sleeps in mine next to Tommy so he won't be alone."

Wanda laughs again, denying with her head. She bends down to button her son's shirt.

"Tell you what. Y/N sleeps in my bed, and if Tommy feels bad, she goes up to his room, how's that sound?"

//-//

Reader pov

"I think it sounds amazing." You spoke as you entered the room, a mischievous smile on your lips. Wanda startled slightly, surprised that you arrived at that moment, but she smiled shyly as she looked at you before turning her attention back to her son. 

"Yay, mommy!" Billy spoke excitedly. Wanda sat him down on the bed again, helping him put on his shoes. You guided Tommy gently by the shoulders to the bed, and as soon as he had a look at the suit he began to undress.

"I didn't know you were going to live with us, Aunt Y/N." Tommy comments as he removes his sneakers.

"I didn't know either." You retort, biting back a smile at the sight of Wanda's reddening cheeks. "I guess your mother forgot to invite me."

Wanda mumbles at you to shut up, making you smile.

"Mommy, you have to let Aunt Y/N know that she is going to live with us now." Billy said making you cross your arms, and turn to Wanda, joining in on the joke.

"Yes, Wanda! You need to let me know about these things." You say with false seriousness, and Wanda rolls her eyes in amusement, finishing putting on Billy's shoes and getting up to face you.

"Y/n, honey, you're going to move in with me when we get back home, okay?" Wanda asks in the same tone. You bite back a smile, ignoring how your heartbeat has quickened. You can't help but look at Wanda adoringly however, and her expression goes from playful to shy in microseconds.

"Okay, Wands. I'll love living with you." You say to her next, sounding slightly affected. The twins let out an exclamation of excitement, and break the bubble you are in. You clear your throat slightly as you turn your attention back to them, looking away from Wanda.

"Wow, you guys look great." You comment as you see the boys properly dressed next. The suits are very nice indeed.

"You can go back to the party, but be careful not to get your suits dirty. No playing in the dirt!" Wanda warns the boys, who are already running excitedly outside. 

"Okay, I'll go get ready too." You say next, thinking to check your cell phone as well, since you haven't turned it on since you left New York. "See you at the party?"

Wanda nods in agreement and you turn to leave.

At the door she stops you, pulling you by the forearm lightly and raising her hand to your neck, then bringing your lips together.

You both sigh and you feel your whole body tense up and heat up all at once. Wanda pulls away in the next moment, breathing as out of rhythm as you do.

You want to ask her why she did this now, but you think the question can wait until later, because she brings your lips together again, in a kiss far less innocent than before. Wanda closes the door with one hand, and with the other she pushes you against the wood. 

You gasp, letting your tongue run across her lip, and she gives you passage.

Her taste intoxicates your senses quickly, your hands moving up to her waist as hers move to your hair, deepening the kiss. You both gasp for air against each other's mouths, unable to separate. 

Panting, you feel your head spin as Wanda moves her tongue against yours, slow and sensual, and you can't help but squeeze her waist tightly, enjoying the feeling of her sighing against your lips.

You switch positions next moment, pressing Wanda against the wood of the door, your knee coming up between her legs. 

"Oh." Wanda moans breathlessly breaking the kiss. You move your kisses down her jaw to her neck, sucking on the skin and releasing just before marking. Your fingers play with the hem of her blouse, and Wanda brings your head up, kissing you again.

You press your body against her, wanting her to be touching you everywhere. The sensation makes you breathless, and hot in all the right places, causing you to moan.

You think you could kiss Wanda forever if she'd let you. The feeling of having her in your mouth is the best you have ever felt.

There are noises of footsteps coming from the stairs, and you both sigh when you hear them. It's Monica coming up with Luna, who is chatting animatedly. It's just what you need to snap back to reality, and slow down the kiss. 

You keep your foreheads together, and your hands around Wanda until the sound becomes distant, signaling that Monica has entered their bedroom with Luna.

You let out a giggle, and Wanda follows you. You look just like two teenage girls making out in secret. When you stop laughing, you kiss her again. Calmer this time. Before you let go, she bites your lip, tugging lightly, and making you gasp before letting go.

"Come on, go change." She commands, pushing you lightly. You smile because she keeps her grip against your blouse as she tells you to leave.

"It is you who are keeping me here, Maximoff." You tease with a smile. Wanda smiles too, and steals a kiss from you before letting go. You stumble backwards out of the room, grinning like an idiot, but you don't care, because Wanda looks at you just the same.

//-//

Wanda looked stunning in her party dress. You wanted to kiss her again, but you knew that if you did you would smear her lipstick, and she would have a lot of inconvenient questions ahead of her. So you just smiled, and breathlessly confessed how beautiful she looked, enjoying her flushed cheeks.

By the time you joined the party, the guests were arranging themselves at the correct places, and you joined a conversation circle with Wanda at your side, greeting a few more people. 

As the sun set, Erik and Charles signaled that the ceremony was about to begin.

//-//

It was all very beautiful. 

Maybe you cried between one confession and another, but everyone was emotional, so no one really cared.

Your cell phone had lots of pictures on it when you came back to the house, after saying goodbye to the guests who left when the party was over. You were holding Tommy by the hand, while Billy went with his mother, and the boys looked very tired.

"Let's go to bed, okay?" Wanda warned the kids as they followed her upstairs.

Erik wanted to open a bottle of wine, so after the kids were in bed, all the adults were outside on the balcony. Wanda sat very close to you, and you resisted the urge to put your arm around her.

"I guess I'll never get used to parties." Erik then comments, smiling nostalgically, making the group smile.

"I hope you're looking forward to the twenty-year anniversary one, papa." Pietro humorously retorts, and Erik laughs, looking at his husband tenderly.

"I look forward to it."

You smiled at the passionate way the couple looked at each other. You wondered what it must be like to stay married for so long. 

"I know we are all tired, but I had something to tell you." Erik then says, exchanging a look with Charles before continuing. "It's about the farm."

"What about the farm?" Pietro asked curiously.

"It 's yours."

Pietro frowns in confusion, looking at Wanda, who has the same look on her face.

"Papa, what?" Wanda asks, and Erik lets out a short laugh.

"You know I've always wanted to remodel this place, ever since you were kids." He recounts. "And Charles and I finally did it. But now we're old. And you two have your whole lives ahead of you, and well, you are our family. So Charles and I agreed that the house should belong to you both."

Wanda and Pietro exchange incredulous laughter.

"Papa, what? Are you sure?" Wanda asks looking from her brother to her father and stepfather. The older men just smile and the next moment they are hugging their children. You and Monica exchange looks of amusement. 

"So, does this mean we're moving?" Monica comments once everyone is seated, and elicits a giggle from the group.

"Let's save all this serious talk for tomorrow, shall we?" Erik asks with a smile. "Today, let's just enjoy the stars."

"Someone is feeling romantic." Charles jokes making the group laugh. 

"Papa, tell us some of your stories." Pietro asked with a smile, and Erik sighed, taking on a thoughtful expression.

"Um, let's see." He begins. "Have I ever told you about what happened in Budapest...?"

//-//

It was quite late when you and Wanda were finally alone, after Charles and Erik came in, you stayed talking to Pietro and Monica for a few more minutes, until they walked in as well.

You smiled at Wanda as she leaned back in her armchair to face you cross-legged, and you mimicked her position.

"Hey." She called out to you with a smile. 

"Hey."

"Did you enjoy the party?"

"Yes." You assured her tenderly. "It was pretty good actually."

Wanda nodded slightly, her gaze falling momentarily to your lips.

"Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything you want, Wanda." You retort, making her smile.

The redhead looks intently at you.

"Did you mean it?" She asks and you blink in confusion. "About moving in with me."

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you smile.

"You're not even going to ask me out first, eh?"

Wanda laughed, looking away with flushed cheeks. You swallowed dryly, lifting your hand to turn her face toward you again, stroking her cheek lightly. God, Wanda was beautiful. Her bright green eyes looking back at you, the way her hair fell around her face, every part of her. 

"Don't you think we're happening too fast?" Wanda asks insecurely, you don't put your hand down, enjoying the feeling of her skin. 

"It depends." You answer letting your gaze wander to her, your free hand searching for hers in your lap, twining your fingers together.

"On what?"

"If you care about me..." You whisper as you bring your faces closer together, stopping when your lips are almost touching, and you and Wanda both close your eyes in anticipation. " As much as I care about you."

You kiss Wanda before she responds. Sweetly and softly. The sensation makes you smile against her lips, and you ignore the urge to deepen the kiss to pull away.

"Is that your way of saying you're in love with me?" Wanda teases half breathlessly a minute later, her tone playful and confident, but her rosy cheeks give away how affected she is. You think she's irresistible.

You laugh lightly, brushing a strand of hair from her face before looking into her eyes.

"I'm in love with you." You confess simply, watching her blink in surprise and amazement. "So, you still think it's too fast?"

Wanda smiles, denying it, and then approaches you.

"I'm in love with you too" She confesses as a secret against your lips. You feel your stomach rumble with nervousness and excitement, but you don't say anything else, because Wanda kisses you again. She asks for passage with her tongue a second later, making you sigh.

You hold your mouths together in a passionate kiss for long minutes, panting against each other' lips as Wanda moves to sit on your lap with her hands on your neck while your hands move up to her waist. You feel hot and bothered, squeezing her skin as if you want to merge with it. It is only when your kisses begin to move down to her collarbone that Wanda gasps saying that you two should go upstairs.

She moves off your lap, breaking the kiss, and you bite your lips, chasing her mouth again. Standing up, Wanda slides her tongue against yours one last time, making your head spin, before she pulls away, smiling at you as she pulls you by the hand into the house.

She signals with her finger for you to be quiet as you enter, and you swallow dryly as you observe the way her eyes are dark.

Getting to your room seems to take forever, especially since you can barely breathe, but finally you arrive.

Wanda locks the door after you enter. And then the atmosphere changes, because you both know what is about to happen.

She smiles shyly at you and you hold out your hand to her, leading her to sit on the bed beside you.

You exchange a glance before you sigh softly, slowly moving closer to her face. When you kiss her, much more tenderly and gently than any other time, Wanda melts.

She raises her hands to your neck, deepening the kiss as she falls onto the bed and takes you with her. You kiss her firmly, swirling your tongue around hers slowly, making her shiver. 

There is no rush in what you are about to do, and you certainly want to enjoy every second of it.

You rest your weight against Wanda, enjoying the feeling of having her beneath you, and the sound that escapes her throat. Your mouth separates from hers only for you to move your kisses down her collarbone, causing Wanda to close her eyes and sigh.

Your hands reach behind her back to pull down the zipper of her dress. When your fingers make contact with her exposed skin, Wanda bites her lips, entwining her legs together in search of more friction.

Your kisses move down as you pull the dress off her body, Wanda shifting on the bed to help you undress her. You move away from her neck to remove the piece completely, your gaze falling to her exposed skin the next moment. The redhead blushes at your stare, but all you can do is admire. The sight of her bare breasts makes your core throb, and you feel the urge to touch and kiss every inch.

You kiss her again in the next second, but part your mouths again quickly to move your lips down her body.

At the first touch on her breasts, Wanda gasps loudly. You smile, controlling the urge to tell her not to be so loud, but you are distracted by the growing heat in your core when you suck on her nipple and she whimpers, bringing her hand to your hair to keep you there.

Dividing your attention between the nipples, you kiss, bite, and suck the sensitive skin, keeping enough of it in your mouth for the skin to be marked red, which elicits a hearty moan from Wanda.

As your kisses begin to descend again, Wanda's body tenses. You kiss at the height of her navel before looking up, and already find her looking up at you with darkened eyes, biting her lip.

"Everything okay?" You ask in a sigh, trying to reason properly out of the bubble of lust. 

Wanda's hesitation causes you to raise your face back toward her again, keeping your hands by her side so as not to fall against her body.

"What's wrong?" You ask gently, trying to find any sign of discomfort. 

"Nothing." She says with a shy smile. "It's just... it's the first time I... since..."

"Yeah, I know." You interrupt half breathlessly, knowing exactly what she is referring to. "Mine too." You confess, but at this point, you knew she should have guessed it too. You have been grieving partners for quite some time, after all. "Do you want to stop?"

"No." Wanda quickly denies, biting back a smile. "I feel good."

You smile, nodding in agreement.

"Me too." 

You kiss Wanda gently again, but before the kiss gets more heated, you pull away to whisper against her lips. "Let me know if you feel uncomfortable at any time."

Wanda nods, bringing your lips together next.

//-//

When you awake, it is probably the best sleep you have had in months. Wanda is curled up on you, her clothes spread across the room lit by the sunbeams from the window.

You mumble that you have to get up because the children will be up soon, but Wanda says that her father will take care of them, and kisses you until you completely forget where you are.

When you finally get up, and go downstairs for coffee, neither adult comments at all on the way Wanda's hand remains in yours throughout the meal.

//-//

While Wanda is talking to Pietro and Erik about how they are going to organize the inheritance of the farm, and the children are playing in the backyard in front of the veranda, you decide to call your mother.

You end up learning that she got a buyer for your apartment, but you tell her that you would deal with these matters when you get back. After checking email and that sort of thing, you turn off your cell phone again.

Taking one last look at the children, you walked back into the house, catching a small piece of the conversation of the others in the living room about what would be done about Wanda's flower shop, but you didn't intrude. 

"We know a lot of people around here, Wanda." Charles was counting. "I'm sure we'll be able to find a new location for the flower shop."

Wanda looked slightly apprehensive, probably considering all the consequences of the relocation, but she relaxed her posture completely when you entwined your hand with hers.

When the conversation was over, it was decided that the families would move to the farm. Selling the properties in New York would take some time, but they would still move to the city during the vacations. It was going to be a rush, but Erik and Charles were willing to help too.

Since you guys were leaving that afternoon, you went back to your room to pack. And Wanda joined you a moment later, kissing you on the cheek before sitting down on your bed.

" All good?" You asked as you folded your socks.

"Yeah." She confirmed with a smile. "I'm just trying to believe that all this is really happening."

"It's not every day we get a farm, is it?" You joke making her laugh. Wanda bites her lips next, looking at you fondly, and you look away to your bag, feeling your face heat up.

"I forgot to ask you something yesterday." She begins somewhat shyly. You frown slightly, muttering for her to ask. "Are we dating?"

You laugh in surprise, throwing your folded party clothes into your suitcase, before approaching Wanda, raising your hand to her chin.

"What do you think, love?" You ask against her lips, dragging your mouth down her jaw to the height of her ear. "After what you did with your tongue yesterday, you're not going anywhere."

Wanda gasps, clenching her hands in the bed. You smile because you know the memories have hit her all over again. But you turn away next, smiling innocently at the woman in front of you before turning your attention back to the suitcase.

"I don't get a ring?" She teased next, making you laugh briefly. You looked back at the door before advancing against her, kissing her firmly, completely overturning her confident posture. When Wanda sighed against your mouth, you pulled away, and she grumbled, her hand reaching up to grab your belt and pull you back to her, but noises of footsteps made her give up.

Soon the boys came running into the room, talking excitedly about living on the farm and riding every day, and you wanted to laugh at the way Wanda had to disguise how affected she felt by your small make out session to answer her sons' questions.

//-//

After saying goodbye to your hosts with hugs, you sat in the back seat with the boys, because Tommy insisted that he wanted to show you a video game. Wanda drove you to your apartment, and after getting your suitcase from the trunk, you waved goodbye to the boys, and approached the driver's window.

"I'll call you, okay?" You tell her with a smile, Wanda nods, and you kiss her. Tommy and Billy make disgusted noises in the back of the car, and you and Wanda laugh as you part.

Waving to everyone in farewell one last time, you wait for Wanda to leave with the car before you go into the house.

"Kissing girls on the doorstep, heh? Looks like high school all over again." Your mother teases from the kitchen just as you enter. You laugh as you close the door.

"Spying through the kitchen window, Mom? And I thought I was a grown-up." You retort in the same tone as you walk to the kitchen to greet her with a kiss on the forehead, tossing your suitcase on the counter afterwards.

"Are you really dating then?" Your mother asks and you murmur in agreement. She smiles. "I'm so happy, honey. I can't wait to prepare for the wedding."

You roll your eyes humorously, picking up an apple from the countertop.

"We need to talk about your apartment, by the way." She starts again, looking through her briefcase for something. "I've found buyers, and well, I'm already looking at some houses for you, too." She says as you take a seat next to her at the table. "Of course I love having you here, but we both know you can't wait to have a place of your own again."

You sigh lightly.

"Yeah, Mom." You confirm. "About that..."

//-//

"You're late." Agatha remarked as soon as you stumbled into her office. You gave her a lopsided smile, closing the door as you entered.

"Sorry, I had a date and lost track of time."

Agatha raises her eyebrows at you.

"A date, hm? Let's talk about it then."

//-//

You had just deposited Melina's share of the apartment in the bank when your cell phone vibrated.

A message from Bucky, asking if you were coming to therapy with him today, as he was already at the station. You reply with an emoji, and a text saying coming.

//-//

"I am immensely happy for your progress, even though I am upset that you will not be continuing with us." Stephen says to you and Wanda, in your last group session.

"Well, New Jersey has its support groups. But this one is always going to be special." You tell him as you lightly tap his arm. Stephen smiles as he hands you the progress brooches. Wanda has her hand intertwined in yours, and the man in front of you looks at that before commenting.

"You know, I always find it curious the way pairs develop in the group." He comments. "We never ask that the activities be romantic, but still, many of them end up falling in love."

You and Wanda exchange a mixed look of embarrassment and happiness.

"I guess we have you to thank for that." Wanda says next, but Stephen smiles, denying it.

"Not at all. I'm happy for both of you. After all, I always thought you would get along together." He hints last, making you and Wanda laugh softly.

//-//

"I just need to lock up and grab a few last things in the office, and then we can go." Wanda told you when you arrived at the flower shop. The establishment was now empty, as the moving crew had already passed by.

You waited for her in the reception area.

With the key to the flower shop in hand and the last files that were there, Wanda hesitated. You looked at her, standing in the center of the place, eyes watering, and smiled as you approached.

"Everything okay?" You asked as you touched her arms, stroking her to calm her down.

"Yeah." She sighs, looking around one last time before looking back at you. "It just feels like I'm ending something. Like a chapter in my life."

You swallow dryly briefly, nodding.

"Are you scared?"

Wanda smiles.

"Terrified." She confesses. "But I have you, so I know I'll be all right."

You smile, lifting your hands to your neck to kiss her. It's brief and sweet, and it's exactly what you both need to be sure you're doing the right thing.

 "You're a flirt, aren't you Maximoff?" You tease with a smile, and Wanda giggles lightly against your lips.

"And you are breathtaking, love."

You felt your face heat up, kissing Wanda again.

"Are you sure about what we're doing, Wanda?" You let the words escape your anxious brain next. Wanda raised her free hand to your face, caressing your cheek.

" Absolute." She assures. "You are my future."

You swallow dryly, affected by the intensity of the confession. A shy smile escapes your lips in the next moment.

"And you are mine."

[shijiujun]

Ooooh yeah okay barely a day later and I’m back with a new rec, I just finished this yesterday (if y’all are wondering if I do anything else but read, I have my binge-reading periods not gonna lie, especially when China bookstores REFUSE to give me a break and keep coming up with new shit)

- Part of Min’s ‘Why You Should Read’ Series -

Summary:

Shen Qiao is the elusive sect leader of Xuandu Shan (Mt. Xuandu) who is known for his legendary sword skills, not that many have seen him before. He battles Kun Xie, the powerful leader of another sect one day, and is sent crashing down the mountain where they had their battle at. Against all odds, he lives, but is saved by leading demonic sect leader Yan Wushi, who happened to be passing by. 

Yan Wushi is the opposite of Shen Qiao - he does not believe that there are truly good people in the world and any individual, in the face of self-interest or fear, will turn selfish and resentful. To him, there are only two kinds of people in the world - worthy opponents, or scum not even worth looking at. He is arrogant, borders on the side of insanity, and cares for and trusts in no one.

Having heard of Shen Qiao’s personality, Yan Wushi first saves him out of fun and games. Shen Qiao has lost his memory, and Yan Wushi is curious to see how he will deal with hardship and challenges, including the loss of his martial arts skills, the loss of his sight, and faced with a shidi, shixiong and other elders in his sect who may have sabotaged his battle with Kun Xie, leading to his fall. Yan Wushi actively does things that drives Shen Qiao into despair, and one incident almost causes Shen Qiao’s death.

Shen Qiao treats every person he meets very well, even those who returned his kindness with cruelty, and even after being betrayed, the seeds of resentment do not emerge in him. No matter how Yan Wushi betrays him and dismisses his offer of friendship, Shen Qiao was still willing to go find him when he was in danger. In the end, Yan Wushi finally realizes that this is the one person who has exceeded all his expectations, who is truly good because he can be, and falls in love with him.

Cue Yan Wushi having to chase an oblivious Shen Qiao back who no longer believes in a single word Yan Wushi says.

This is a story of two people with entirely different and mutually exclusive world views that somehow come to understand and love each other, while still retain their own views. Yan Wushi thinks that Shen Qiao’s kindness is weakness and that he is gullible, but Shen Qiao is not so much as gullible as he is just willing to give someone else the benefit of the doubt first, and he does learn to look at things with a more critical eye after spending time with Yan Wushi. Is Shen Qiao still kind and gorgeous and everything? Hell yes. Does Yan Wushi still tease him for it? Of course. Similarly, Shen Qiao is unable and also unwilling to change how Yan Wushi approaches things and people, but for Shen Qiao, Yan Wushi is willing to make compromises in action, even if he doesn’t agree with what Shen Qiao thinks.

*Not as angsty as I made it out to be but the subtext is quite amazing - BUT!!!! You get like a lot of vague kissing for most of the novel. Shen Qiao remains firstly oblivious, then secondly goes straight into denial, while Yan Wushi looks on adoringly. The romance starts... for real... from the epilogues onwards HAHAHA I cannot even!!!!

Read:

Novel (Online) | Novel (Print) - Not Available Now | Novel Translations | Upcoming Donghua - 山河剑心 | Audio Drama - S1 & S2 

Characters:

1. 沈峤 Shen Qiao (Right) - He's described as one of the most beautiful/handsome men the wuxia world has ever seen, and is his deceased shifu’s second disciple. He was chosen as the successor to the sect leader position of Mt. Xuandu, which has stayed neutral for decades (in a world where sects can ally themselves with emperors/kingdoms etc.). He is poisoned on his fated battle day with Kun Xie by someone he trusted, falls off the mountain and is rescued by Yan Wushi. 

For the first part of the novel he’s visually impaired but this helps him to train his hearing. Wanted to be friends with Yan Wushi because he believed they could be, but is betrayed by him shortly after and loses all his power to fight his enemy. Instead of dying, he is saved by his to-be disciple Shi Wu and realizes the secret to cultivating his powers because of that.

He’s kind but not gullible, he gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, but he’s definitely not weak or soft. Despite losing his martial arts and skills twice, he comes back stronger than before. He doesn’t understand if Yan Wushi is toying with him or is being real especially after he loses trust in the man, but their fates are intertwined together (or Yan Wushi is actually that shameless and a stalker lmao).

He faints a lot, throws up blood a lot, is carried by Yan Wushi A LOT.

2. 晏无师 Yan Wushi (Left) - A little insane, a little sadistic, takes joy in seeing someone despair. He’s very good looking, has a streak of white in his hair and ranks second (or first) in terms of martial arts and skills. He also has an official role in the palace and is advisor to the Zhou emperor. Every other demonic and good sect in the world fears him. Is also kind of a hoe.

He told Shen Qiao once that he does not need friends, only worthy opponents, before he surrendered Shen Qiao to an enemy of his. He also plants a demon heart seed into Shen Qiao (so that he can go through demonic cultivation), much to Shen Qiao’s fury and devastation, but Shen Qiao manages to survive that. After he recovers, he hears of plans to get rid of Yan Wushi and goes to save him instead, not because he trusts/thinks of Yan Wushi as a friend at this point but wanting to prove to Yan Wushi that even though he pushed Shen Qiao to the brink of no return, Shen Qiao survived, under his own terms, and stayed true to himself.

Because of that, Yan Wushi does a 180 on Shen Qiao, starts believing in him, starts thinking he’s cute and everything. Starts shamelessly flirting (and getting rejected by Shen Qiao) and finally gets his man when he’s in utmost danger at the end.

Other Things I Like in the Novel:

Shen Qiao is so damn cute?!!! And so skilled?! Like because everyone looked down on him after he failed the battle with Kun Xie not knowing that he was poisoned and sabotaged, and the next moment he flashes his sword out in a fight and they’re all like damnnnnnn

Yan Wushi is hurt severely once and as he recovers, his consciousness is split into four parts, and two of those personalities come out to cling on to Shen Qiao, and Yan Wushi gets jealous of himself

Shen Qiao’s two disciples are super cute!!! And then he picks up another cute boy along the way closer to the end

He faints a lot and throws up blood A LOT if they were doing a live-action for this I’d vote for Zhu Yilong for the role, and he also keeps getting kidnapped?! It’s hilarious

Whenever Yan Wushi tries to be nice to him (feed him, kiss him) Shen Qiao will flush and tell him to please be respectful and then they’ll exchange parries and blows as Yan Wushi DOES NOT GIVE UP on feeding him and Shen Qiao is TRYING TO AVOID THE SPOON 

Yan Wushi knows that Shen Qiao has feelings for him in the end but is just too prideful and embarrassed to admit it, and so he pretends to be cold to him and Shen Qiao panics and is confused, then goes and asks random strangers on how to woo a “crazy, stubborn, more skilled” significant other - In the end he initiates his first kiss with Yan Wushi and Yan Wushi forgives him LOL

They go to an inn the first time they sleep with each other and then the help at the inn hears like noise coming from upstairs right, and asks the innkeeper “oh my god are they okay” and innkeeper says “they’re doing things that deities do” ????!!

Yan Wushi likes to squash Shen Qiao’s face when he’s not awake so that his lips form like an unglam pout, then he laughs at it - Ownself amuse ownself

[the-broken-truth]

A Returning Heart - Alcina Dimitrescu x Male Character

Summary: The Bloodline of House Dimitrescu has been destroyed by Ethan Winters, but will it remain that way? A cloaked figure approached the castle with one thing in mind - Can love transcend death?

Quick Note: The Explosion didn't destroy the Castle or that area of the village. Also, the male will not be given a name.

"Here are your purchases, My Lord." The Duke smiled as he handed 4 horizontal boxes out to the cloaked figure before him who took them in his arms but set the 3 smaller boxes down before opening the longest box. The cloaked man opened the long box - the Duke could see a long smile on the man's face as he gazed into the contents of the box before sealing the lid on it again.

"Perfect. What can you tell me about the other lords? Do you have their remains as well?" The man asked.

"But of course - after Ethan Winters killed the lords, he sold their remains to me for a fair amount of Lei. Would you like theirs as well?" Duke asked with a smile.

"Not at this moment. Once I make sure everything is in order, I shall come back for the remaining lords. And what of Miranda & the mutamycete?" The man asked.

"No longer in existence, My Lord. Ethan Winters and his company completely destroyed them - as well as the other Lords' Domains with the limitation of Lady Dimitrescu Castle and the Central and Northern Villages." Duke said.

"I'll take care of that as well." The man said as he reached down and gathered all of the boxes in his arms and started his way up the path to the grand castle that still stood.

"This is going to be interesting," Duke said as he got his notebook to make note of this. "It's not everything someone like that comes to the village."

[At Castle Dimitrescu]

The figure pushed the metal door of the castle open with one hand while the other held the boxes to his side. He looked around the room he now stood in before cracking a smile.

'Not much has changed.' He chuckled to himself before he made his way through the castle until he reached Castle Dimitresc's Hall of the Four (The Location where the masks go.). He opened the first box and gazed upon its contents before reaching in and pulling out the crystalized remains of The Royal Dragon - Alcina Dimitrescu, herself. He smiled at the crystal remains for a while before he placed them in the center of the room before going back to the other 3 boxes and opened them - showing 3 crystals torso that was small than Lady Dimitrescu's but each one had a gem placed in their chests - the first one he picked up bore a red gem.

'Bela.' the man thought as he placed the red-gemmed torso next to Alcina's. He back to the other two and picked up the second one - which bore a yellow gem.

'Cassandra.' He thought before placing it next to the other two in the center of the hall. He rose to his feet again and gathered the last one - a green gem in the chest of its chest.

'Daniela.' He echoed in his mind before placing it with the others.

Once they were all in place - he lifted his right hand which was engraved with runes of an unknown language. He cleared his throat before he spoke in Romanian.

"Din amurg până în zori. Din carne, sânge și os. Din aceste fragmente fragile, poruncesc - întoarce-te la care ai fost odată și mergi din nou pe acest pământ." The runes on his arm began to glow a blinding white light when a circle surrounded each of the remains and consumed them in a pillar of blinding light. The man watched and waited until he saw the remains float and take new form - this made him smile widely.

[About 3 Hours Later.]

A feminine groan filled the air of the Castle Main Hall has eyes began to flutter open, revealing a gold hue. The woman allowed her eyes to readjust to see - she was on a familiar floor. She pushed herself off the ground before groaning again and placing her hand on her head.

"My head...What happened? The last thing I remembered was..." Her eyes widened as memories began flooding back in her mind.

The meeting with her family.

Her daughters bringing her that Man-Thing.

The man-thing escaping and killing her eldest.

The pain she felt of loss.

Hunting that man-thing over and over again before he killed her last two daughters.

Tracking him to the chapel but getting stabbed with the dagger.

Then...dying.

"He killed me... I know he did, but then..." She looked at her hands. "How am I alive?" Alcina wondered as she tried to find an answer. Sudden movement at her right made her eyes dart and widen - instant tears filled them.

"My head...What happened?" the young girl asked.

"BELA!" Alcina said as she scurried to her daughter and engulfed in her a hug; surprising the girl who returned the hug.

"M...Mother?" Bela asked as she looked into Alcina's golden eyes.

"I'm here, little one; Momma's here now." Alcina said as she held her daughter more.

Bela looked behind her mother and her eyes widened.

"Mother - Cassandra and Daniela!" Bela said making Alcina look behind her to see her middle child and youngest also wake up. Alcina and Bela gathered the other two in hugs and all of them hugged and cried for at least 30 minutes before rising to their feet.

"I don't get it." Daniela began. "That man-thing killed us. How are we here?" She asked.

"Dani's right - I remember dying." Bela said.

"Then I ended up dying trying to avenge Bela." Cassandra said.

"And I died the library when that man-thing got the Iron Key." Daniela finished.

"That accursed man-thing stabbed me the Dagger of Deaths Flowers and managed to defeat my dragon form. How are we all here? Did Mother Miranda bring us back to life?" Alcina asked.

"I'm afraid Miranda had nothing to do with this - she can't do anything now that she's dead." A male voice called out. The women looked at the top of the stairs leading to the foyer and saw a figure dressed in a cloak with his face covered - only having the lower part of his chin showing.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my castle?!" Alcina demanded as she called forth her dragon's claws.

Broken Truth: That's what I like to call them. The whole 'A Rat can't escape the dragon's claw' was one of my favorite lines in the game; along with 'CASSANDRA!'.

"Calm yourself, Lady Dimitrescu." the male said as he raised his hand to silence her but that only made her angrier.

"You don't tell me what to do in my own castle, you stupid man-thing!" Alcina snarled.

"Geez and here I thought you would be grateful to the one who brought you and your daughters back to life." That made all their eyes widen.

"You brought us back?" Bela asked.

"Wait - why would you do that? Where're the other lords? Where's Mother Miranda?!" Alcina demanded to know.

"As I have said before - Miranda and the other lords are dead, just as the mutamycete no longer exists. Ethan Winters killed you, your daughters, and all the lords before taking out Miranda and destroyed the mutamycete before taking back that which was his." The man said from his place at the top of the stairs.

"That's impossible... All of our hard work - undone by a stupid male?!" Alcina snarled. "That doesn't explain why you brought me and my daughters back to life." Alcina said.

"Let's say - I was bringing back that which was once mine." The man said as he slowly started his way down the stairs. "A long time ago - I took up residence in this place as a loyal servant and became something more but short-minded humans came here to destroy you and those you held dear but I refused to let that happen and to save 4..." the male stopped at the bottom of the stairs and pulled the hood off - revealing his face: short brown hair, with emerald green eyes, and a familiar scar across his face. "I threw myself on the blade to keep my loved ones safe." He smiled at the wide eyes on the daughters' faces, as well as the tears that began to build in the dragon's eyes. He held his arms open in a welcoming manner. "I've returned to you, my family."

"FATHER/PAPA/DADDY!!!" The shouts of the daughters rung out as they ran into the male's arms, who held them as if they were something precious.

"It's okay, girls. I'm here now."

"I don't understand..." Alcina said as she tried to hold back her tears. "I saw you die - you threw yourself on the sword to save me from getting killed." Alcina said as she walked over to the group.

"I've been reborn since the time I lost you - while in this body, I attended a school and learned about dragons; that reminded me of you, awoke the memories of my past life and my bond to you. I was determined to return to you but I knew I had to become more so I trained myself in the arts of magic. It was a good thing too - when I learned about what happened, I had the skills to return that which I lost back to the world of the living." He explained.

Alcina looked into his eyes - those eyes darker than the tree's leaves during summer - the last time she saw them, they were as dull as sandstone but they were before her again.

He was here.

He was with her again.

And he gave back what she lost.

"MY LOVE!" Alcina fell to her knees and hugged the man and her daughters in one hug. She didn't want to let go of him; scared that this was all a dream and she was never going to see him again, that all of this would fade away and she would be back in the nothingness again.

"Shh...It's okay, Alci." He said as he began to wrap his arms around her neck to hug her for the first time in centuries. "I'm here, My Dragoness, and I shall not leave you or our daughters again." And this time - he was intending on keeping that promise.

Translation

"Din amurg până în zori. Din carne, sânge și os. Din aceste fragmente fragile, poruncesc - întoarce-te la care ai fost odată și mergi din nou pe acest pământ." - From dusk until dawn. From flesh, blood, and bone. From these fragile fragments, I command - return to which you once were and walk this earth again.

[stillness-in-green]

MVA In Memoriam (4/5)

The Comprehensive Account of the Butchering of My Villain Academia

(Introduction and Part One, Episode 108: My Villain Academia) (Part Two, Episode 109: Revival Party) (Part Three, Episode 110: Sad Man's Parade)

Part Four, Episode 111: Origin: Shimura Tenko

Chapter 233 – Bright Future

• Twice clearly having arranged a Skeptic puppet to where its arm can be used as a pillow for Toga’s neck. A cute little character detail while also being kind of disturbing? Very on-brand for the League! A not-immediately-plot-crucial visual of a member of the League demonstrating obvious care for another member? The guillotine awaits!

• A little explanation about how clones’ physicality and memories work relative to the last time Twice saw the people the clones are based on. This is a very useful little nod of explanation to something that remained unclear from the dialogue of Mr. Clone-press last chapter. Twice’s quirk is pretty arcane in its ins and outs, frankly, and the clearer those details are, the fewer plot holes you’re leaving for later.

• The scene of Skeptic being right on the verge of confronting Twice. Skeptic has, oh, about five moments where he’s obviously a big tense neurotic who’s unpleasant to be around if things aren’t going his way, and the anime deleted or downplayed all but two of them. As ever, it’s obscenely damaging to the characterization of the MLA cast, who we have little enough time with as it is. Further, it was a particularly weird choice to make with Skeptic, who is as of this writing the only major MLA character who’ll emerge still free and active from the War Arc. Why shaft the characterization of the one of new characters who’s going to be getting the most attention out of any of them in the next arc, with yet more scenes yet to come after?[1]

• A full page’s-worth of Spinner’s rationalizations on targeting Trumpet and ordering the Twice doubles to do the same. This lays out the details on why targeting Trumpet stands to relieve some of the load on Shigaraki. It isn’t because Trumpet’s quirk makes the crowds more dangerous, though that is true. Spinner targets Trumpet because he’s seen enough to know that attacking the MLA’s leaders gets them crazy riled up; he knows that if he makes himself a threat to Trumpet, then all Trumpet’s followers’ attention will shift focus to Spinner, leaving Shigaraki with less to deal with.           Spinner also knows that that is ludicrously dangerous to him personally, given his weak quirk, but he actively makes that choice anyway, because that’s how much he’s devoted himself to Shigaraki without (yet) quite articulating the nature and reasons for that devotion. Targeting Trumpet without any of that reasoning made for a perfectly sound tactical decision, but it missed the regard Spinner shows the unnamed mobs of the MLA, and it really missed the probable savage beatdown and even possible death that Spinner consciously chooses to risk for Shigaraki’s sake.           Of course, a chunk of what the episode deleted is flashbacks to scenes the anime also cut, so they couldn’t figure into Anime!Spinner’s reasoning. This does not excuse yet more cuts to Spinner’s arc and characterization; it only adds to how badly the anime maimed him.           Also, on a less salty but still confused note, deleting all the Twice clones from the beginning of the scene and just having Spinner running along a wall past mobs of people instead of laboriously fighting his way through the street to the van was really dumb. Why did all those MLA people just stand there and let him run by? Where did all the Twice clones that just helped save Spinner from a huge flurry of long-distance attacks disappear to? Come on.

• Trumpet’s thought that using Sevens Loud will draw every bit of strength from their warriors, but that it’s necessary. Setting aside that it looks far less necessary when there hasn’t been a crowd of Twice clones fighting Trumpet’s people this whole time, just Spinner by his lonesome, we still lost quite a bit to this cut. Firstly, a nuance on the trade-off Incite gives—that its stat-boost is temporary, and that it’s borrowing from the future to pay for the present, a stock that is limited and a bill that will come due when the effect wears off.           Secondly, it’s another demonstration that the MLA leaders aren’t just thoughtlessly wasting their followers’ lives; they’re very consciously doing cost/benefit analysis on how much danger their people are in versus what stands to be gained by the potential exertion or outright deaths those people will suffer. It’s cold reasoning, yes, but that’s how the Liberation Army operates: not for the personal gain or lackadaisical ease of the people on top—Trumpet would just have been in the tower speaking through city-wide loudspeakers, if that were the case—but for the advancement of the group’s ideals.           It also just grants Trumpet some interiority, but of course the anime can’t have that.

• The note in Trumpet’s meta-ability explanation that the more his voice causes the air to vibrate, the stronger Incite’s effect. This is—good god, it is literally the entire design mentality behind Sevens Loud! Sevens Loud purpose isn't to make his voice louder so more people can hear him (which I would think is the most logical assumption an anime-only person would make as to why he puts it on); it’s to make himself louder because being louder enhances the boost. It’s about the quality of the effect, not the quantity of targets. This is why Trumpet has the thought about how using Sevens Loud will drain the strength reserves of his people. There’d be no correlation there if Sevens Loud were only about boosting his range.

• When Spinner got porcupined in the anime, they did a close-up on his face, possibly to avoid the gore of showing the spines piercing through his forearm. That’s fine, but they also emphasized the reaction by having him lose his grip on the huge fuck-off knife he had clutched in his teeth. In the manga, sure, he yells in pain, but he doesn’t lose the knife. Indeed, he gets the guy off him by slashing at him with it—a shot the anime dropped. So Spinner doesn’t even get to keep displays of his pain tolerance, a trait he doubtless improved during those six weeks against Machia. Why does the anime hate Spinner so much, you guys? Why did it go out of its way to make him look lamer, when Dabi and Toga were out there getting anime-original flourishes to make them look cooler?

• Spinner’s thoughts, “When I get inspired to act, I don’t know what the heck I’m doing! I’m just a loser jumping on a bandwagon. Or at least that’s what it looks like.” A humorous bit of self-awareness from Spinner here. The anime got at the self-awareness. The humor, as we’ll see, not so much.

• Spinner’s thoughts, “Look at me. Look at me!! With all that prejudice in your eyes!” Hah hah, laughed BNHA the anime nervously, what prejudice are you talking about, Spinner? No idea what you could possibly be referring to there! This one’s particularly annoying because, while one might think that the anime was just dodging the heteromorphobia angle it eradicated all references to back at the beginning of the arc, the prejudice line isn’t even about heteromorphobia, not really.           See, the Japanese line there literally translates to, “With those colored glasses!”—to see with colored glasses being a Japanese idiom for seeing something from a biased viewpoint. So aside from being a wordplay jab at Trumpet’s choice in eyewear, it’s also about Trumpet’s expressed view that Spinner, having been a shut-in with a weak quirk who decided to take his resentment out on the world, can’t possibly amount to anything much. So, what, did the people in charge of making those cuts think Trumpet was right? Why even keep the line where he disparages Spinner if you’re not going to let Spinner call it what it is? He’s not calling out fantasy racism there, anime! He’s calling out the bias against weak quirks that even the good guys in this world sometimes partake in!           Possibly it’s because non-villains in the world[2] sometimes use reasoning that leads logically to quirk supremacism that the anime got gunshy with it, or it was more reluctance to give the villains—and the Too-Real Iguchi Shuuichi especially—moral ground for accusations against their society that get too close to real life. Whatever the motivation, it’s a bullshit cut.

• Shigaraki calling RD “Detnerat,” presumably because he neither knows RD’s real name nor cares to dignify him by using his code name. The anime, again, made neither the connection nor Shigaraki’s recognition explicit, so it lost the specificity and pettiness of that little snub.

• A little exchange between Giran and a Twice clone as they flee. It doesn’t give you much you wouldn’t assume just from seeing them flee, but it always feels more immediate and empathetic when the characters talk and you can see their expressions, instead of just a quick shot of them from behind as they run away in complete silence. Heck, running away in complete silence is actively out of character for Twice!

• Because the anime has some kind of aversion/restriction on showing hand-related violence, it radically changed how Shigaraki lost his fingers,[3] resulting in the loss of several important shots. To the best of my parsing, in the manga, when Re-Destro makes that first big jump to avoid Shigaraki’s decay wave, he comes back down specifically aiming for Shigaraki’s outstretched left hand, spread wide and flat on the ground. Shigaraki tries to evade (you can see the blur of his left arm in the panel where RD lands), but either RD does manage to clip the hand or he simply hits the ground with so much force that the sheer explosive burst of rock shreds Shigaraki’s hand and part of his coat sleeve. Being so much larger, RD then simply snags Shigaraki by the wrist before he can get out of range. It’s very fast, a burst of speed and violence, and very different (read: cooler) from Shigaraki flipping end over end in slow motion in a way that seemed to imply visually that he was thrown well out of RD’s grabbing range.           As to the shots we lost? I counted three. First, Hana’s hand crumpling amidst all the flying debris. Second, that big dramatic panel of Shigaraki’s maimed hand ribboning blood into the air as the narration box finally drops Re-Destro’s identity and code name. Third, the shot of him catching Shigaraki, almost delicately, between one thumb and forefinger and delivering the, “Was it this hand that committed such evil acts?” line—a clear threat to what of that hand Shigaraki has remaining—as we find out what his meta-ability is.           This is all hugely dramatic in the manga, because, of course, readers always assumed Shigaraki needed all five fingers to activate his quirk, and here Re-Destro nigh-effortlessly robs him of fully half his capacity to use it. It’s a shocking turn-around and instantly ups RD’s threat level by allowing him to permanently maim Shigaraki in a way that no one, hero or villain, has done before or since. Robbing Re-Destro of the immediacy of that seemingly devastating blow—inflicted within moments of meeting the real Shigaraki—did immeasurable damage to his credibility as an arc boss.           The shot in the manga is also just arresting visually, with RD finally getting to properly loom over Shigaraki. Most of the shots up to this point have been framed such that, while RD is obviously bigger, he and Shigaraki have still been moving and fighting in a pretty level way. This is the first place where the viewer is situated so squarely behind Shigaraki that they can really feel how massive RD is in comparison. It’s certainly a more impressive visual than this mess—thanks, anime; thanks, whatever broadcasting standards forced overworked and uninspired animators to undertake a redraw of RD’s quirk reveal panel when every other member of the MLA brass had theirs carried over directly from the manga.

• A chapter-ending cliffhanger of Slidin’ Go helping direct traffic on the outskirts of Deika and the warning rumble as Gigantomachia approaches. Aside from being a nice little tension boost—Will Gigantomachia roll up just in time to see Re-Destro making a mess of Shigaraki? Who will he target? Will Shigaraki ever be able to win him over if he sees a scene like that?—it’s good foreshadowing for what the news reports will eventually be saying. Remember, the claim is that a bunch of villains lured Deika’s heroes away and then attacked the city while it was defenseless; that’s why we never see any of the MLA’s heroes involved with the fight once it starts. And now, here, we find out where they’ve been the whole time: making sure no outsiders get in who might be able to undermine that narrative.

Framing Shifts

• Once again had an MLA member using their Detnerat item say its name out loud, when it’s clear in the manga that they’re just thinking the names internally. Once again, it was kind of silly.

• When Spinner flashes back to watching Stain on TV and being inspired, the manga uses a shot of Stain’s face, snarling and defiant. The anime used—a shot of Stain from behind, only visible from the shoulders to the knees, hunched so that his lower back and ass were towards the camera. Bones… What exactly were you implying lit Spinner’s fire there? Or did you just not have the time or budget to go pull Stain’s reference sheets for drawing his face?

• A tone issue, but a major one: Spinner should be grinning, face alight with accusatory challenge, as he hurls his accusations of the MLA/Trumpet being the same bandwagon-jumping nobodies that he is. This is the moment in the manga where we see Spinner truly throw his hesitations and his doubts to the wind and embrace Shigaraki’s nihilistic fervor and the beauty, value and profundity of emptiness. So what if I’m empty? So what if he wants emptiness? Who cares about other peoples’ ideals if their ideals leave no room for me? It’s not a heroic triumph, but it’s a triumph all the same, and losing Spinner’s smile made the moment far too bitter.

• Meanwhile, in exactly the opposite problem, Shigaraki by this point is not smiling. In fact, he’s barely on his feet, swaying violently in place with accompanying sound effects. While his words are openly mocking, he seems to wholly lack the energy to back them up with his usual verve. The anime didn’t have him smiling, admittedly, but the whole time the ‘camera’ wasn’t directly on his face, his voice actor was reading the lines with an uneven, chuckling cadence that suggested Shigaraki was seconds away from breaking into howls of laughter. He was also, of course, impossibly clean, at a point at which his manga counterpart is muddy, bloody and tattered from the horrifically extended combat he’s been living for six weeks. It’s stuff like this that made it so impossible to take the Army or even Machia as much of a threat in the anime, when, other than the red cords on his hands being broken, Shigaraki looked absolutely no different than usual.

Additions

• Gave Spinner a tiny bit of new animation when he got mobbed by people hopped up on Incite. It was nice, but if they were going to give him a flourish, I’d rather it have come when he swipes Porcupine Dude off him with a combat knife. Or, you know, just kept the bit of him telling the Twices to attack and his reasoning on why.

• Cut inside briefly to show a ballerina girl dancing through a darkened apartment right before she sliced a neat circle out of the wall. I love it, A+, exactly the kind of expansion on the action of the manga I wanted to see. My only complaint is that her manga self looked more like Pearl from Steven Universe.[4] XD

• A quick new shot of RD when Shigaraki was hounding him about his feelings. His teeth were visibly gritted, the corners of his mouth pulled down. It stands out because there’s only one shot of RD there in the manga, and in it, he’s smiling, close-mouthed and calm. The anime copied said shot, smile and all, then cut away, and when it cut back, Re-Destro had a totally different expression on his face. Baffling. Anime!RD having a dour scowl everywhere manga!RD is smiling in a tight, controlled way was all over the fight scene, and it detracted from the sense of RD’s menace every time.

Chapter 234 – Destruction Sense

• The illustration(s) accompanying Re-Destro’s, “Let’s not judge people by their quirks,” line. The pictures are cute, but the real loss there was the note informing us that they’re excerpts from a children’s book published by Shoowaysha—Curious’s outfit—called Quirks and Us. That’s a very concrete illustration of the kinds of things the MLA is getting up to in the world, and an equally concrete thing an anime-only viewer lost. Of course, that viewer never even found out Curious was in publishing, so it wouldn’t have meant anything on that front, but there is one other thing I think is notable: the way that book implies that the only people explicitly pushing a “don’t judge other people by their quirks” message are the radical Liberationists.           See, the rest of the story touches on the virtues of a nonjudgmental attitude here and there, but actually finding people willing to say it out loud is—unprecedented, I think. Deku comes across situations where he could say something like that multiple times and he never, ever does—not to Shouto, nor to Shinsou, nor to Eri, nor to the giant fox lady. And that’s not even touching on Shouji’s mask, or the discrimination Spinner faced, or the CRC “losing support” without being declared illegal. I think the manga itself is against judging people by their quirks, but it’s interesting that it doesn’t make its characters into mouthpieces to say as much. This is because its characters are thoroughly enmeshed in a society that very much does judge people by their quirks, regardless of whether or not it will say that doing so is bad or rude or prejudiced.           Re-Destro and the MLA aren’t immune, of course—Re-Destro himself says that quirks are linked to personality—but they adhere to a different set of values than the larger society does. While Hero Society talks about quirks in terms of being heroic and/or useful versus villainous and/or useless, the MLA spectrums instead emphasize how capable a person’s quirk is of helping them exert their will and how ambitious the quirk’s bearer is in that exertion. That is, their ethics are less about morality and utility-to-society than they are about aspiration and utility-to-self.[5] Both worldviews have their pros and cons, but that, I think, is what the children’s book is getting at when it says not to “judge”—don’t assign an arbitrary moral value to a quirk; judge a person by their actions.           And isn’t it interesting, that the only explicit verbal statement of that value comes from the leader of a radical cult descended from a famous insurrectionist quoting a children’s book published by a member of selfsame radical cult? The value is not ever stated by a member of the heroic cast, so are we to assume that the heroes don't actually believe it? Do people profess to believe it but everyone knows it’s only for courtesy’s sake, with only the MLA willing to breach that wall of “things we don’t talk about in polite society” to actually talk about it in anything other than platitudes? Obviously, you lose this entire line of discussion when the "don't judge people by their quirks" value is just never mentioned at all.

• The phrase, “In that case,” from RD’s, “You will never measure up to me.” It establishes continuity to what RD was saying before. He’s not taking breaks from talking while Shigaraki has flashbacks; the two are happening concurrently.

• RD’s, “Cracking apart…?” reaction to his Decayed fingertip, and the dripping blood from the injury. I’m not hugely fussed about the former, but I like the latter as indicative of what Re-Destro’s Stress powers actually do. That is to say, he isn’t covering himself in a thick shell of Stress power or something; his Stress powers make him physically larger, infusing his body and swelling his size. That’s why he bleeds when Shigaraki touches his fingertip.           Admittedly, the size distinction was more obvious in the anime, where the audience watched RD’s shoulders inflate like balloons last episode, compared to the manga, where you don’t get in-between animation. Still, given that RD still has that wound even when he goes back down to normal size, and is still wearing bandages for his speech a week later,[6] it’d be nice to mark the severity of the wound with a bit of blood. Oddly, the anime did keep the wound for the crater scene, visible red slices opened in the flesh along the length of his finger, very obviously the sort of injury that would have bled upon being first sustained. Maybe RD ran afoul of whatever the studio mandate is on when Decay has a dust effect and when it leaves gore? (More of that later.)

• Shigaraki’s, “Mother!” for the first panel we see of her. It’s obvious enough who she probably is, but odd that we got a whole bunch of narration for Hana, and likewise an acknowledgment of his grandparents, but not even a single word for Nao.

• Very significantly drops the grandfather’s, “Eating yummy things helps make the sadness go away.” Grandpa’s not just randomly handing Tenko his favorite snack in that memory—he’s trying to treat some kind of grief or wrong without actually addressing the wrong, opting to just put a flavorful band-aid on it. That could be fine if it were something outside Grandpa’s control, but we’ve already gotten some early hints from Hana’s phrasing that things are not okay in the household, and thus the grandfather’s attempt to bribe Tenko with sweets is just as ominous a sign of what’s to come as the grandmother’s attempt to guilt him into not crying lest he make her cry too.

• A little shot of Shigaraki stirring in the rubble when RD answers the phone. It’s a nice demonstration of their size difference, especially comparing both of them to Machia, who we just saw tearing through buildings like the kaiju his theme music declares him to be.

Framing Shifts

• When Shigaraki narrates that Hana always took him by the hand when he got weepy, she actually does take his hand in the manga, her fingers wrapped around his, his clasped over hers. It emphasizes that this is what he can’t do anymore, simply hold hands with people, the innocence lost aspect, and it suggests the closeness he once had with his sister.           In the anime, she reached out a hand but wound up taking him by the wrist instead, his hand splayed open beneath hers. This suggested, albeit very implicitly, that maybe that innocence was something he never had from the beginning; it also suggested less reciprocity in his relationship with Hana. Even though Tomura said in narration that their hands were joined, what we saw was that Hana just pulled him where she wanted him and he didn’t fight her on it, not that he held her hand in return.           Alternatively, the anime could have been drawing a parallel to how her hand would eventually be gripping his wrist in a much different context (a more necrotic one, for starters) later in life, though if that's what they were going for, they could have stood to tweak the dialogue so it actually matched the onscreen action. (Credit to @robotlesbianjavert and @aysall respectively for these two theories!)

• Shigaraki still having his fingers when Re-Destro squeezed his hand made RD look like a real moron. I assume the intention was that he assumed he’d done enough damage—broken bones, torn ligaments, etc—to prevent Shigaraki from being able to move his hand in more than spastic twitches, but like, if all it takes is a hard enough spasmodic clench to dust you, you are playing much riskier games than the MLA is generally portrayed as favoring. (Not that the anime kept many of the scenes that demonstrated all the planning and prep that the MLA did as groundwork for their attack, as I have complained about at length.)           In the same sequence, Anime!RD turned and bodily hurled Shigaraki away from him, while Manga!RD threw him a similar distance with nothing more than a flick of a finger. Anime, why you gotta make Re-Destro look so lame all the time?

Additions

• Just one episode prior, the anime managed to turn in an entirely reasonable assemblage of swiping and dodging between Shigaraki and Re-Destro while RD was rambling on about the Mother of Quirks. What the hell was the excuse for this episode’s ridiculous shot of Shigaraki literally running circles—big, broad circles—around RD multiple times in the time it took RD to finish one (1) thought? For heaven’s sake, if you don’t have the budget for flashy, just use slow motion or more flashback animation or something. I know there’s more leeway for long thoughts in manga, where the reader understands that thoughts are moving far faster than action, and that it can be hard to bridge that gap for anime, where motion is motion but voice acting still has to rattle its way to the end of a sentence. I understand that measures have to be taken to account for that. Still, I promise, something that just looks a bit padded is much preferable to something that looks outright dumb.

• I admit to having found huge Stress monster RD pulling out a teeeeeny-tiny cellphone very funny—even more so the distinct cracking sound it made when Skeptic reported in bad news and RD’s fingers tightened infinitesimally—but the manga suggests fairly strongly that RD’s just answering on some kind of earpiece or micro-receiver, the same kind of thing Ujiko hands out and that Skeptic is associated with on multiple occasions. It’d be nice if RD could have kept more of the jokes he actually makes, the ones that stem from his native good humor, rather than the anime making up new ones based entirely in the contrast of Re-Destro and the viewer’s expectations of Re-Destro.

Chapter 235 – Shimura Tenko: Origin

• The man at the door, whom Nao is apologizing to at the beginning of the Tenko flashback and the apparent reason Tenko got busted for playing hero. I don’t love the way deleting this obscured that Tenko, in some fashion, troubled someone to lead to Kotarou dragging him down the hall (the anime also dropped Kotarou’s subsequent line, “Causing trouble?!” that’s supposed to supplement his, “Playing hero again?”), but it’s not like the manga doesn’t imply that the same thing would happen for any hero-based rules infraction, regardless of whether it troubled strangers or not. No, the much, much funnier thing to me is how it just fuckin’ torpedoed the most obvious thing people point to when they posit that All For One gave Tenko Decay, kicking off the entire tragedy: the man at the door with the conspicuously shadowed face and the even more conspicuously AFO-like suit and dress shirt with the top button unfastened.           Listen, I hate that theory and what it would do to the narrative of Shigaraki Tomura/Shimura Tenko as Hero Society’s long-overdue reckoning, the villain they can’t put down and the victim they can’t silence, so watching the anime summarily cut out the scene that really kicked the theory into overdrive was very validating! Conversely, I still can't deny that it's a plausible theory, so if it does turn out to be true, that means the anime shot itself in the foot on the most obvious bit of foreshadowing this side of AFO addressing Tenko by name when he finds him in the alley. The schadenfreude of that would also be very funny. Really, unlike every other cut this season, I regard this one as win-win for my personal experience with the anime.           Incidentally, I was very prepared to complain about the anime dropping all the changes of clothes the Shimura family goes through over the course of the flashback—I regard the timelapse as one of the major points against the AFO Gave Tenko Decay theory, since it’s never taken a quirk bestowed by AFO multiple days, maybe even multiple weeks, to kick in before—but it turns out I’m a lot less bothered about them not taking the time to change the side characters’ clothes when the anime also deletes the dude at the door who is the only reason I care about clarity re: how much time the flashback covers! But just for the record, while they had more outfits than I was expecting them to, the family did go through fewer changes of clothes in the anime than in the manga.

• The full echo of the line about kids being sneaky and simple in favor of Narrator!Shigaraki just letting out this exhausted, rueful, “Ahhh, kids are…” I actually rather like it. It’s a clear reference back to the earlier line without having to restate the whole thing, and Uchiyama Kouki’s delivery is really excellent.

• Kotaro’s first slap of Tenko, the only one directly portrayed on-panel, and Mon-chan’s barking in response. On the one hand, I think there’s an argument to be made for the scene flowing a bit better like this—why wouldn’t Grandpa try to stop him from going for that second slap; why wouldn’t Nao pass Hana off to Grandma and do something instead of just standing there yelling for the entire scene? It makes a bit more sense if they’re hesitant to intervene because Kotarou has “only” grabbed at Tenko’s collar and they don’t yet know how that it’s going to escalate to naked physical violence in a way that it never has before.           On the other hand, that first slap is so visceral and shocking. Nowhere else in the manga is domestic violence portrayed more sharply and directly, in greater detail or more cruelly generous panel space than in this moment. It’s in the difference in size between Kotarou and Tenko, the force behind the hit that’s enough to knock Tenko clear off his feet, the pages upon pages of gut-churning lead-up to this moment and what we know will be following soon after.           Also too, it makes the family’s failure to help Tenko much worse that no one else acts when Kotarou pulls back for a second hit. The first one, you could almost excuse because no one saw it coming; the second throws those justifications out the window and spits on them afterward. Two hits are important—not only for what they tell Tenko in the moment about his family's inaction, but because two hits speak in ways one hit doesn't to how wildly uneven the power balance is in the house, that Nao and her parents could witness something like that and not only fail to intercede, but then take who knows how long to work up the courage to confront Kotarou afterwards.           I understand very well the fear of showing this in a family TV timeslot—the violence is so much more real than any big fantasy beat-‘em-up could ever be—but it’s the kind of thing that really drives home what Tenko needed to be saved from even back then, a social issue that heroes as they currently exist were in no position to address. Far from demonstrating that heroes aren't at fault for what happened to Tenko, though, what this scene truly does is vividly illustrate the flaws in All Might's social contract, in which his power and smile seem to promise that he can save absolutely everyone, only to leave children like Tenko out in the cold with no explanation as to why. It's brutal because it has to be, and the anime shying away from depicting Kotarou's physical abuse undercut that.

Framing Shifts

• There was a bizarre, nonsensical change to the scene at the beginning of the chapter where RD is figuring out how Shigaraki survived/got back up after taking a Burden attack head-on. The manga’s explanation is that Shigaraki didn’t actually take a full force hit because he was Decaying it even as it was blowing him back. This is somewhat silly, given that even a reduced-strength Burden is still strong enough to put him through multiple buildings. It is, however, less silly than the anime’s take, in which Shigaraki touched Re-Destro rather than the corporealized Stress of Burden. How Re-Destro survived a full-fingered touch from Shigaraki’s completely uninjured right hand[7] went totally unexplained; the problem was then compounded by Re-Destro delivering manga-accurate lines about Burden not being an evadable attack despite “evasion” having nothing to do with Shigaraki’s actions.           Anime!Shigaraki didn’t dodge the Burden attack any more than Manga!Shigaraki did; unlike Manga!Shigaraki, however, Anime!Shigaraki also did nothing to reduce the impact of the attack. So not only was how Shigaraki survived the Burden attack not explained, the change to the material also opened up the plot hole of how Re-Destro survived a direct touch attack that Shigaraki in the manga never lands.

• There was also an extremely weird decision made to give Tenko dark, gray-blue eyes, obviously reminiscent of Nana’s, and suggest that they became red at the same time as his hair was changing to white. But in the manga, other than the size, there’s no difference between young Tenko’s eyes and how Shigaraki’s eyes have always been drawn—an unshaded iris with a visible pupil and a relatively thick line delineating the iris from the white of the sclera. Tenko’s eyes never matched those of anyone else in his family, least of all his dark-eyed grandmother. His hair changed color because of a trauma response,[8] but his eyes were always red.

• Relocated Shigaraki’s first, “Little kids…are sneakier than you’d expect. And simpler,” to underscore Hana showing him Nana’s picture in the study, squarely centering the line on her. And like, yes, that line does get its bitter echo later when Hana panics in the face of her father’s fury and throws the blame onto Tenko—but that line isn’t just about her; it’s also about what Tenko wanted to hear from the other adults in his life. It didn’t matter that his father didn’t approve; if he could get at least one adult to say he could be a hero, to take his side, then he could feel vindicated.           It’s a child’s sneaky, simple reasoning: if an adult’s words are absolute, you just have to get one (1) adult to agree with you. It’s asking Dad if you can do something you don’t think Mom will agree to, and then going to Mom with Dad’s permission held defensively in-hand. Laying the line over Hana obscures that it’s as much about Tenko’s craving for external validation as it is Hana’s (entirely understandable) deceitful streak.

• After half a season full of internal monologue being voiced aloud even when it made little sense to do so, the anime decided to render clearly talk-bubbled dialogue—Tenko’s chatting at Mon about how he feels like he could take on the world—as internal monologue instead. Who talks to their animals in their heads when they could be talking at them directly like pet owners the world over?

Additions

• Added a few extra stills of Kotarou rebuking Tenko and dragging him around. I don’t think they’re inaccurate to the situation, though I wonder if it really needed to be underlined two more times than the manga did. Maybe they were trying to make up in advance for deleting the first slap?

• Added a few new stills of Nana and child!Kotarou. They hurt my soul and I love them without reservation.

Chapter 236 – Shimura Tenko: Origin, Part 2

• Hana’s second apology. What needs to get across was communicated with her first apology, but I do think the second one adds some naturalism to the dialogue. It feels very normal for a child feeling extremely guilty to apologize multiple times, like the more times they say it, the more true/convincing it will become.

• A bit of Tenko’s internal monologue—thinking Hana’s name, and Mon’s, and that he can’t talk. The anime slipped some attempts at verbalizing “Mon” into the dialogue, and it was painfully obvious just from listening to him gag and choke that he was too horror-struck to get words out, in ways that would be a little harder to convey on the page. Also, he thinks again that he can’t talk just as Hana runs away, so it gets across regardless. No real complaints here.

• Some thoughts about how he’s itchy, which, given what his itch represents (or at least what he thinks it does), they probably should have kept for continuity’s sake.

• Tenko’s last, “Hana-chan!” just as he grabs for her. I can imagine it having just that little bit more desperate impact, especially given Sekine Arisa’s great delivery of the first “Hana-chan!” but his delivery of the first one was great—weeks later, I can still remember it clearly—so it’s not a snip I’m inclined to doomsay about.

• Hana’s verbalization as the Decay hits her. Given that they kept Mon-chan’s last whimper, it’s kind of inconsistent not to keep this. It’s grueling, sure, but no more so than the rest of the horror show shortly to follow.

• An echo of Nao’s defense of Kotarou’s anti-hero stance. Frankly, I think anime already over-indulges in echoing dialogue we’ve heard not ten minutes prior, so I don’t mind losing this—in the manga, the moments would have fallen in different chapters, so it makes more sense to squeeze in the little reminder, but that wasn’t necessary for the anime, in which the original moment and the callback happened barely more than five minutes apart. It was obvious what the mental image was meant to draw attention to, since Tomura was narrating about exactly what his grievance was, and the image was followed by the two equivalent moments with the grandparents. (Admittedly, it hurt that correlation a bit that Grandpa’s line about the ohagi being intended to make the sadness go away got cut, but the sentiment was pretty clear from the man’s expression of nervy, abashed guilt regardless.)

• The line of Decay that splits Nao’s eye, one of the more vividly horrific little grace notes in the chapter. It undercut the grotesquerie just the tiniest bit, but the scene’s grotesque as-is, so I can understand that slight edit for TV standards. The discrepancy between Decay-to-dust and Decay-to-gore, discussed below in Framing Shifts, was much more damaging.

• A shot of Kotarou just after he hits Tenko with the tree pruning shears in which he looks, briefly, incredibly distraught, like he’s just realized what a monster he’s become. The anime didn’t make the slightest of attempts to keep that spasm of horror, grief, and regret, and thus lost that last moment of sympathy for a man deeply traumatized by a heroic character’s actions. It’s my only complaint about Anime!Kotarou, who I was otherwise far more pleased with than I was afraid might be the case, but it’s a complaint I must register nonetheless.

• A bit of inarticulate yelling before Tenko screams, “You... Die!!” It helps get across Tenko’s rage overflowing, to have that wordless garble before he can actually wrap words around it. He was still having trouble talking, too, so it makes sense that his first vocalization would just be a long, incomprehensible screech. That said, with the music there to supplement the mood in a way the manga would lack, I don’t think the anime’s rendition of the scene suffered overmuch from its absence.

Framing Shifts

• The anime, of course, has always gone the dust route for Decay because Decay is a little too gruesome for family hour TV, and anyway, when Tomura gets as fast with Decay as he is in Deika, he really is just insta-dusting people, such that not even blood remains. But he wasn’t that fast or that thorough as a child, hence why it’s all so much gorier—and it needs to be, because it’s hard to imagine Hana freaking out like she does if all she sees is a pile of dust instead of, well, dog gobbets. (Also, if his family had gone the dust route, it would have been very hard to convince the audience that Tomura’s hands are his family hands and not fakes provided to AFO by Ujiko.)           This obviously put the anime in a difficult spot, but apparently the decision they settled on was—to not decide? Everyone we saw in the active process of decaying decayed into dust as usual, but then once they were done decaying, once that transition from person to ruin was complete, there were all these heaps of gore everywhere. It was a very strange and distracting inconsistency that hurt the scene much more than any of the nearly invisible cuts, and I hope the blu-rays will change it.

• Added Grandpa catching Grandma as she staggered at the sight of things in the yard. Since his body language in the manga (the only non-Decayed shot of him in the sequence) has him leaned more forward, like he’s still halfway through running towards the kids, I thought this was a nice little touch on why he stopped, for reasons other than just the obvious.

                                                         ---

Episode 111 was about half of a really strong episode. Most of my complaints about the Shimura Family flashback are very minor, and most of the ones that are less minor are still easy to overlook when the rest of the presentation was so strong. Unfortunately, the non-flashback half of the episode had as many problems as ever, and those aren't over yet.

Come back next time for Part Five, Episode 112: Origin: Shigaraki Tomura. Assuming my complaining about the finalized gutting of Spinner's arc doesn't get too out of hand—which it may; if so, I'll tack on one final part to wrap things up—I'll also be running down a quick overview of the Paranormal Liberation Front scenes in the Endeavor Agency arc and some various odds & ends.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Yes, I know the Skeptic Confronts Twice scene goes nowhere, but maybe, instead of deleting it, they could have patched it up by showing Skeptic turning away from the confrontation when the tower went down? You know, actually made an effort to improve on the material?

[2] Bakugou, of course, but also Inko, Kotarou, and, very prominently, even All Might. Deku circa MVA has an entire arc lying in wait for him about how much he’s internalized All Might’s paternalism re: having the strongest quirk.

[3] Indeed, as of the scene in the crater, he still hadn’t lost them at all! He had his prosthetic by the time of the speech, so I guess we’re meant to assume that Ujiko or some MLA doctor declared them past saving and amputated them. I hope I don’t need to tell you how unbelievably lame it is to have a shounen manga character sustain a permanent injury like that off-panel.

[4] It’s the pointy nose.

[5] That, at least, is the best way I’ve found to reconcile all the related-but-distinct values professed by the various members of the MLA brass, from Re-Destro’s focus on liberation and purpose, what exactly Trumpet chooses to cite when he’s talking about Spinner not “amounting” to anything much, Geten’s open extolling of quirk supremacy, and so on.

[6] In the first big double-page spread. Oddly, no bandaging is visible in the other panel that has a good shot of that hand, possibly because Horikoshi was more focused on drawing RD’s empty pant leg. The anime kept the obvious wound during the crater scene, but not the bandages during the speech.

[7] I assume, anyway, that Re-Destro only survives Shigaraki’s first touch because it’s a weaker Decay, coming as it does from only from two fingers rather than five.

[8] The fabled Marie Antoinette Syndrome. Never been scientifically documented as such (hair can whiten because of extreme stress, but not overnight) but it endures in fiction because it’s pleasingly dramatic. Trauma-based eye-color changes, not so much.

[aminiatureworld]

In My Dreams II

Characters: Diluc, fm!reader

Word Count: 3,273

Warnings: Depictions of a panic attack

Premise: The past is many things. Something to admire, something to learn from, something to hold dear. And yet how unreliable it can be, especially in the hands of ghosts.

In which the reader dreams of the past.

Author’s Note: Translation notes and historical references will come after the fic. The history nerd really came out this time around.  

Diluc

You knew that holding onto the past too much was a dangerous game to play. Yet you continued to chase it, desperately looking for something that might finally bridge your present self to the person you’d left behind.

You’d been mostly upfront to Diluc about this obsession of yours. Knowing that your partner also lost his family, it was easier in some ways to grasp onto this shared loss, and to use it as a way to continue on. Not that Diluc ever pushed you to forget your past, as other might have done. Instead he tried to help you, using his not inconsiderable connections to attempt to find as such land that matched the vague descriptions you could give. Though you knew the quest was most likely no more than a wild goose, you greatly appreciated his attempt to help.

However you knew that even someone as kind and understanding as Diluc would never be able to condone something like this.

You rubbed your arms, feeling every inch of the cold musty ruins around you. You’d heard that a sizeable group of Abyss members were gathering here and figured that these figures who boasted of civilizations long gone might be valuable pieces of information. Though sneaking into a gathering of the upper members of the Abyss was perhaps not the smartest thing you’d ever done. It was too late to turn back now however. Ducking into a corner you slowed your breathing, hoping that no one would care to look at the nook in which you were now curled up.

Listening to the slow creaking of the domain you suddenly felt the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as the air grew charged with magic. The room around you suddenly grew completely silent, as if even the walls were aware of something important. Not daring to sneak a peak at what was happening you closed your eyes, willing your senses to focus on your ears.

“My brethren, I’m glad to see you.”

Opening your eyes wide you gathered your control, willing yourself to not immediately turn around. The voice was familiar, its cadence smooth and soothing, polished as marble. It struck something within you, some deep hidden memory that you’d long ago forgotten. Now that memory struggled to the surface of your mind, the sketch of a long ago time.

“I know that our plans are continuing smoothly. Soon we will able to Khaenri’ah, and topple those who so callously left it to smolder, having lit the flame themselves. We will one more emerge into the world, no longer required to hide our faces.”

The words passed through you, intangible as air. What were they talking about? Nothing was making sense, not one word was something you could interpret. And yet the voice seemed almost an explanation in itself. If you knew who was talking then you’d find out the answers, or at least some of them. Vraning your head ever so slightly you looked up, jerking back slightly in shock as you found amber eyes staring right at you.

The person who was talking was immensely familiar, everything about them echoed with a long gone familiarity. Looking out of place amidst the rank and file members of the Abyss he exuded a cold sort of confidence, a determination to see his words realized. Staring at him you noticed the emblem which embellished the scarf he wore around his neck, a golden eagle which seemed to move with the fabric. A part of you was tempted to run, but you found yourself frozen, trying desperately to process the figure which danced before your eyes.

The young man said nothing, gaze shifting as he calmly began to speak again, though you couldn’t hear his words over the pounding of your heart. When his gaze once more passed yours he grinned an understanding sort of grin. It was as if you two were cohorts in some sort of pranks of scheme, rather than complete strangers who stood on opposites ends of an invisible struggle. The gesture confused you, and you found yourself sinking back to the ground. Putting your head in your arms you took a few deep breaths. You would figure out what was going on. It was alright, there was a logical explanation for this. Perhaps he just wanted to finish up this odd gathering before turning his minions upon you.

And yet the order to attack never came. After what must’ve been at least an hour the young man declared the gathering over. The air filled with the familiar mark of waypointing, and soon the ruin was once more deadly quiet. Straightening your back you studied the wall opposite of you, sure that you were dreaming a confusing sort of dream.

“You can come out now.”

You jumped, freezing as you wondered what to do. You thought that you were alone, yet he remained. Was this the moment, had you truly just been tricked.

“You don’t have to be so afraid.” Laughter drifted to your ears. “I promise the rest are gone.”

Slowly turning around you peered over the broken wall once more. True to the young man’s word there was no one left, only the two of you.  Standing up slowly you summoned your sword, still not trusting the person in front of you.

“What is it?”

“That’s the last thing I expect you to ask.” The young man was smirking now. “Surely there are more important things.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“You wound me! Have you truly forgotten the face of your family.”

The words felt jagged, almost accusatory. You stiffened, face twisting into a scowl as you moved your sword slightly forward.

“You’re a liar.”

“I assure you I’m not! Why, I cannot believe you truly have forgotten so much. Is it just me, or have we all been banished from your thoughts?”

Reaching into his pocket he threw something at you. Catching it you stared at the egg, mind full of half-incredulous questions. The egg was evidently a work of ambition and love, its outer shell the color of the night. Diamonds crept up the sides of the egg, embedded into gold that shone even in the dark of your current place. There were four portraits embedded into the sides, studded with diamonds and crowned with stars that seemed so bright and silverly you were almost afraid to run your fingers over them. Something that seemed to be monograms sat underneath the portraits, but the script evaded your understanding.

Shifting your gaze to the portraits you found an even greater surprise. The person staring back at you, a small smile on her face, was you – though you couldn’t recognize the complex dress in which you’d been painted. The portrait was such a good likeness it took your breath away, the miniscule brush strokes truly the work of a master painter. Rotating the egg slowly you recognized the young man in front of you as the next model. Sporting what could only be some sort of military uniform, small medals of red and blue lined up on top of a blue sash, he seemed to be joking with the artist, his cocky smile offset by the stark lighting of his eyes. Next was a woman, somewhat who could only be this boy’s mother. He face was set in a straight line, her expression one of regal aloofness, as if she was thinking of something very far away. She was wearing the same sort of dress as you, though hers was much more complex in nature. The clothing screamed importance, as if to confirm the expression on her face. Lastly you found yourself looking at the portrait of someone who was presumably the boy’s father. Surprisingly under dressed her wore the same uniform as the boy, the only distinction being the number of medals. No crown sat on his head, no sign of any particular regal bearing shone in the portrait; instead there was a tiredness about him, a cloud which betrayed the fact that he was ultimately quite unworthy of remembrance.

“Do you remember now?”

You looked up wildly, denial fighting with realization as you shook your head. This wasn’t remembering; remembering was something else entirely. Remembering wasn’t the feel of the world sinking around you, remembering wasn’t losing faith in the world around you.

“Are you telling me that this means nothing to you?” Accusation flooded the boy’s speech as he glared at you.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I, I don’t trust this.”

“Always the same sister.” The boy’s tone was mocking now. “You always were the suspicious one, and as unambitious as our poor father once was.”

“Was?”

“He’s changed his tune quite a bit. He had too, of course. How could anyone stay so weak after surviving what we survived?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about death. Or as close to it as one can get I suppose. You should know this, you were there when they stormed the place, when they took us away. You were there when we were ordered to the basement.”

A flash of memory danced in your vision, speeding up your breath as you were overtaken by sudden panic. Swaying slightly you screwed your eyes shut, letting out a cry of frustration when the memory only grew stronger. You were dancing for a moment, spinning around with the boy in front of you as a distant melody drifted upon the air. Then you were inside an unfamiliar place, the new space so claustrophobic it squeezed the air out of you, the windows, having been painted over, offered no reprise. Then it was midnight and you were shuffling outside. The stars seemed so distant; they’d stared cold and unfeeling down as you shuffled behind a familiar figure, entering a door which seemed so familiar.

You leaned against the stone wall, trying to find some sort of reprieve in the cold damp of it. Forcing your eyes open you stared once more at the strange boy in front of you. His expression was one of ill-concealed triumph, mixed with barely suppressed rage.

“Do you see now? Do you see what they did to us? A wonder any of us escaped at all, then again I suppose those wretched idiots had no sense of magic. They were after all a bunch of thugs.”

“Where… where was that place?” You heaved slightly, feeling as if the ground was floating underneath you.

“Somewhere long destroyed. No point in thinking of it now. There is only this world after all. This world and the destruction that seized it as well. Only this one can be saved.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Khaenri’ah! The city struck down by the gods who could contemplate no power except their own! Their people suffered the fate of ours, should they not get the revenge we will never be allowed?”

“You’re mad.”

“Am I? Or are you just the same coward as always?” The boy shook his head. Pointing to the egg in your hand he back away. “You can keep it. Think of it as a memento, a way to contact me. If you ever wish to see right, well, I’ll be waiting.”

And then he was gone, so fast it was as if he’d never existed, as if he’d suddenly turned to dust. Sinking to the ground you pushed scalding air into your lungs, watching helplessly as your vision spotted around you. What had you done, oh gods what had you done?

The return trip to the Winery was an excruciating one. At first panic had been your only sensation, as you half stumbled, half crawled your way out of the Abyss’ lair, stopping every few minutes to lay down as to not pass out. The moment you got into the open air you made your way towards the nearest stream, waterlogging yourself in your hurry to pour icy water down your throat. Collapsed on the back you stared up at the sky. It was still night, which meant Diluc was probably guarding Mondstadt. You prayed to Barbatos that he wouldn’t notice your absence, for how could you deal with your shame? You’d been so foolish. How could you have ever expected things to turn out well? Now you were simply paying the price for your arrogance.

Finally lifting yourself up from your position you stumbled the rest of the way to the Winery, careful to keep your mind blank, afraid of what might happen if you let panic once more set in. Tears pricked in your eyes as familiar vines appeared within your sight, and you could’ve cried for joy upon opening the sturdy oaken door and crossing the threshold of the place you’d learned to call home. Creeping upstairs, hoping desperately that you hadn’t managed to wake any of the other residents, you breathed a sigh of relief when you entered the familiar bedroom which you’d grown to call you own. Sinking down onto the coverlet you let out a soft sigh, finally letting tears fall as you drifted off to sleep.

 -------

Yet your dreams refused to offer you any sort of reprieve. Finding yourself in a darkened hall you silently passed a variety of rooms, their imposing grandeur a familiar one. Someone seemed to be whispering a song in your ear, though when you turned to see who it was no one appeared.

“How can I desert you, how to tell you why.”

Reaching a room even grandeur than the rest you stared at the chairs that sat on dais on the opposite side from where you entered. They shimmered as if a mirage, and when you went to approach them two figures seemed to appear out of thin air. The man and the woman that were painted into the egg gazed at you with sad eyes, each saying nothing as you continued to make your way towards them.

“Let me have a moment, let me say goodbye.”

“Who are you?” You called out to them. The woman turned her head, as if ashamed of your lapse of memory. The man stood up slowly, arms reaching towards you slightly. Hurrying your pace you moved to meet him, spurred on by some unrecognized emotion.

“Harsh and sweet and bitter to leave it all.”

You as you reached the man he vanished, red ash falling softly to the ground in his wake. Gasping in horror you watched as the woman did the same. Suddenly the dream began to crumble, burning itself away to reveal nothing but black. Dropping you into an eternal night you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll bless my homeland ‘til I die.”

You bolted up, mind struggling to place where you were. Looking around you, your eyes were met with the familiar comforts of your home. A soft light drifting through the crack in the curtains, the foretelling of the dawn.

Besides you Diluc stirred. Sitting up slowly, rubbing his eyes in a gesture which made your heart squeeze, he glanced at you through sleep eyes.

“Is there something wrong, my love?”

You meant to say no, to assure him that you’d just had a strange dream. Yet the softness of his voice was contrasted so with the venom of the young man and the silence of the people who seemed to have been your family that you found yourself cracking. The sobs were soft at first, but soon you found yourself wailing, not caring how your hoarse voice pierced through the quiet of the Winery.

“My love?”

Diluc immediately wrapped his arms around you, saying nothing as you continued to sob into his chest, staining his nightshirt with tears as you cried out all the tears you could possibly contain. You felt like the world around you was shattering, like nothing was real anymore. You felt as if all you had held to was suddenly gone, and nothing remained but searing contempt.

“It’s alright, it’s alright.”

Diluc carded his fingers through your hair, whispering soft words of comfort as your sobs diminished. Finally you felt completely spent, and as you relaxed in his arms you felt a sudden surge of tiredness, washing over you and calling you once more to the perilous depths of sleep.

“May I ask you what’s wrong?”

You fought your fatigue, disconnecting yourself slightly as to look Diluc in the face. Could you tell him what had occurred? Could you lay bare your weakness, your shame, your guilt? A part of you recoiled at the idea. And yet, as you stared at Diluc you found yourself recounting what happened, shaky breaths accompanying your soft confession. Lowering your gaze you spoke of your night, grateful that Diluc never let his arms leave you.

“I see.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Why should you be sorry?” Lifting your gaze you found Diluc’s eyes raw, his expression one of surprising honesty.

“I was selfish, and I didn’t expect the consequences of my action. All I could think of was the past, of getting back what I’d once had.”

“And is that not a natural thing?” Diluc took a deep breath, hold on you tightening slightly. “If I could not remember what had happened to my father – if I woke up one day in an  unfamiliar place with nothing but a sense of loss – I would go to the ends of the world to find what I’d lost. There is no crime in wanting your loved ones home, even when you cannot recognize them.”

“And yet it seems the only survivor has turned into a monster.”

“Does that make your past love for him any less? Do the bonds of family immediately cut the moment our loved ones turn rotten?”

You thought back to the young man in the ruins, to his mockery and his impatience. You hated him, you hated what he was doing. And yet you missed him, you somehow missed him so much. Turnign towards the nightstand you opened the small drawer. Pulling out the egg you’d been given you examined it in the dim light. How beautiful it was, how different from the image that had been put in front of you.

“Do you wish to forget what you have remembered?” Diluc’s voice was filled with nothing but kindness.

“No.” Even if it embarrassed you to say, you knew it was the truth.

“Then don’t forget it.”

You smiled, placing the egg once more in your drawer. Though it had only been a few words, though this terrible night hadn’t been erased from your memory, you somehow found yourself much lighter. Turning to Diluc you pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Thank you.”

Diluc said nothing, merely leaning down to kiss you as well. Cushioned in the familiar sanctuary of his arms you allowed the darkness of your encounter to drift from your mind.

 -----

Drifting off to sleep you found yourself once more in a corridor, face to face with the man who was once your father. You stared at him, wondering if he would disappear again.

“Are you truly happy as you are now?”

“Yes.” Somehow you knew it was the truth.

“I see,” the man nodded, a slight smile flashing across his face, “then we shall keep you no longer.”

Leaning over he kissed you softly on the forehead. Next to him now stood the woman who was one your mother. Smiling now, a smile which utterly transformed her melancholy aura, she wrapped you in a hug.

“Do not forget us.” She whispered.

Even as the words were spoken you knew that you never could.

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

The egg that I used this time around is a reference to Faberge eggs. The tradition having been started by Alexander III giving an egg every Easter to Empress Maria Feodorovna, the tradition was continued by Nicholas the second - who gave an egg to his wife and his mother every year. Each egg is a masterpiece of innovation and creativity and is breathtaking in its aesthetic and in the mechanic of hiding its “surprise”. The two eggs I used as reference were the Alexander Palace Egg (1908) and the Twelve Monogram Egg (1896).

The song that I referenced this time around was “Stay I Pray You” from the Anastasia musical. Highly recommend.

The parents are based off of Nicholas II and Alexandra Feodorovna. I do not have time to go into them because we will be here for 300 years. The dresses I mentioned are traditional Russian court gowns. An image will be linked in the reblog.