#and for the most part it really truly does
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nobodyknowsimalesbian777 · 2 days ago
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Can't Wait - Abby (Tlou 2)
NSFW tags- masturbation, sub!abby, dom!reader, lowkey humiliation (a!receiving), mention of strap usage, pet names (baby, slut, princess)
authors note: sorry this took a little longer gang, plsplspls leave requests, this was my 2nd and i loveeeeeeed doing it
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abby was an incredibly strong woman, anybody could see that
years of training transformed her body into what most people would consider a machine,
perfectly tuned and built for the apocalypse.
her physique garnered lots of attention, from men and women alike, much to her disapproval
she knew people saw what her body was capable of, she heard the way people spoke about her
"she's so strong, but" and "can you imagine trying to sleep with a woman like that?" followed by laughs was something she often overheard
abby would pretend it didn't bother her, saying she didn't need anyone to like her body,
but you never missed the way her hands roamed her chest and arms when she was talking about it,
her fingertips pressing harshly, like they were trying to erase the parts people saw as too masculine
truly, you loved her body. you could spend hours tracing her meticulously sculpted muscles, feeling the way they connected
you loved the curve of her waist, and her ass. you loved her shoulders, especially when her blonde hair cascaded down her back like a sun-kissed waterfall
every part of her was designed so beautifully, like a physical manifeston of her determination
and you knew she was more then capable of throwing people around, regardless of their height or size
which is why watching her jerk her hips up into her hand, searching for friction on her neglected cunt was that much better
she was used to being the protector, always worrying about others safety, and pleasure
nobody would ever suspect her to be submissive, in any capacity, ever.
but then again, nobody was lucky enough to see her the way you did
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you stood in the doorframe, arms crossed as you watched abbys naked body squirm under her own touch
her big hands covered her whole pussy, even as her middle finger slid in and out of her slick hole,
loud moans echoed in the room as her fingers hit that delicious spot behind her clit,
her back arched off the bed, pushing her fingers that much deeper
abby knew she was supposed to wait until you got back from your patrol,
you told her you had a surprise waiting, one that you wanted her especially needy for,
but abby, your poor girl, couldn't help herself.
she was cleaning your shared home, picking up laundry as she went, when she found your favorite pair of panties
just the image of you wearing them was enough to get her incredibly worked up,
she really did try so hard to distract herself, not wanting to disappoint you,
but she just couldn't help it, she needed to cum, and she couldn't make herself wait until you got home.
you let out a disappointed sigh, alerting the tall blonde that you had seen her.
abbys blue eyes met yours, her fucked-out face telling you that she was already so close
she couldn't seem to urge herself to stop, her movements becoming more needy as you stared her down
"i specifically remember telling you to wait" you mused, stepping into the room and standing at the edge of the bed
"i- i know" abbys whines were incredibly hard to resist "m sorry, baby. feels too...so good"
you traced one hand up her bare thigh, while the other reached up to push her hair out of her face
she looked at you doe-eyed, her brows furowing as she shamelessly held eye contact while getting herself off
your fingers traced around her stuffed pussy, reaching her wrist and pulling it up to your mouth
abby whimpered as you set her fingers in your mouth,
cleaning the slick off of them while you intertwined your fingers in her hair, making her watch the lewd act
her fingers left your mouth with a pop, abbys blue eyes locking onto your slick-covered lips
they followed you as you reached under your shared bed, pulling out a box
abby tilted her head, watching as you slowly opened her gift
her eyes fell on the black harness you pulled out, her eyes narrowing as she tried to figure out what you were planning
suddenly, her eyes shot open. she had realized when you pulled out a long, clear dildo from the box
abby felt her pussy pulse in anticipation, her legs closing instinctively
"think you're ready for your surprise now?" you asked sweetly, dangling the harness to the side
abbys tounge darted out to wet her quivering lips, her eyes looking back and forth from you and the toy you held
"it's so big..." she trailed off, the feeling between her legs growing with every word you spoke
you hummed, feigning sweetness "should've thought about that before you decided to be a slut, huh princes?"
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need to dominate a buff woman, also should i write smth for ellie??? do reply with your consensus
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chocodile · 2 days ago
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Amaranthine Magic System PART II: Spellcraft for Wizards
This is Part II of a three-part worldbuilding set. Part I is here! Part III is upcoming.
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So, what makes a wizard different than a non-magically capable mundane? A few things:
Unusually strong personal magical field
Ability to sense/”see” magical energy
Some unknown characteristic that allows them to manipulate their own magical field as if it were an extension of their body. Possibly a physical difference in brain structure?
The last part is the most important and is truly what sets a wizard apart from every other creature on the planet. Though, of course, without the first two traits, it’s going to be of limited use.
As mentioned in Part I, wizards cast their spells by applying a mental “filter” their own magical output. This is referred to as active casting. Passive casting, which will be covered in Part III, is typically the realm of animals and plants. Being able to filter something mentally is an extremely unique skill only possible by sapient creatures (probably) due to the complexity involved. However, wizards do typically use hand gestures in casting as well. Hand gestures provide an additional optional channel on which you can “filter” your spell. Because it’s easier to do hand gestures than to teach yourself these complex mental filters, it’s common for amateur wizards to use many more hand gestures when casting, while very advanced wizards use fewer of them because they are capable of juggling a larger number of simultaneous “filters” mentally. Additionally, hand and arm gestures are commonly used like the barrel of a rifle, to control and direct the magical energy being shaped by the mind.
Learning how to control magic like this takes many years of study and practice. You must really understand the “physics” of how the waves work and how each puppeteer string will affect the shape of the waves when pulled. On top of that, you need a good understanding of the object you’re interacting with. Magic will move differently through water, air, or stone. If you are trying to create a spell that will create a net of energy that will catch fish in a river, you need to be very familiar with the physics of how magic will interact with water and flesh, as well as have an approximate awareness of how deep the water is, whether the bottom is rocky/uneven or not, how fast moving the current is, etc. Gathering that info will require several steps of study and reconnaissance before you ever get to the “make a net and catch some fish” part.
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Healing magic is very tricky for this reason. Flesh can be knit together, but because the blood vessels and nerves and such are so small, and so many different types of material are present in, say, a cross-section of an arm, successfully re-attaching a limb would be something only an expert who has dedicated their life to studying anatomy would be able to pull off. You know those radioactive tracers doctors use before imaging tests? That sort of thing gets a lot of use in healing magic. Healers can train themselves to recognize the tracer (well, a magical energy equivalent) and follow that through a body, then target their spell on the location where the tracer ended up. Much easier and more reliable than trying to guess exactly where someone’s alveoli are from outside their body.
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Spellcraft has two primary “branches”. The First Branch is a school of magic based on unleashing your own magical potential in a very basic, direct way. Its rawest form would manifest as something like a lightning bolt: an erratic, jagged bolt of pure, difficult-to-control energy. Pretty much all “attack” type spells are variations on this, as well as any spells that involve pushing/pulling/moving things. This branch of magic is seen as much easier and, ironically more beginner friendly. Though it does have the capacity to cause grievous injury, the concentration and mental effort involved mean it’s very hard mix up a “pull” spell and a “fireball” spell. Western Kingdom schools almost exclusively teach this branch.
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The Second Branch deals more with manipulating the world’s “background radiation”. (if First Branch magic can be visualized as a line, Second Branch magic is more of a plane or 3D sphere) The wizard alters and exaggerates the shape of their own magical aura to exert pressure on the “background radiation” around them to produce type spells that are more like buffs/debuffs in a video game. Some examples would include a spell that makes everyone in the area feel weirdly invigorated or sleepy, or slows down/speeds up time in a small area, or makes a room with your dead mom in it really, really cold (cough, cough). These spells tend to be more subtle and frankly kind of weird
 it’s a very versatile branch of magic with some interesting potential implications. However, it tends to be the harder type of magic to learn by far and requires a very steady hand and calm mind to maintain.
Though they use First Branch magic as well, it’s worth noting that Second Branch magic is very common in the Eastern Kingdom, where it has been well-studied for thousands of years. Their extensive library of research is kept by the Eastern Kingdom Sultan in his private library. Westerners tend to view the Second Branch as shady and manipulative
 who knows what a Second Branch wizard could be doing to you without you knowing? The only Second Branch magic to be commonly used in the West is healing magic.
However, as mentioned before, one important thing about the magic system in Amaranthine is that wizards are not psychic. They don’t have x-ray vision and do not innately know how every object or life form they encounter works, and a lot of specialized magic involves knowing the inner workings of things and being able to picture things clearly in your head. A wizard cannot use telekinesis to pick up an object they don’t know the location or shape of (if they tried, it would likely either not have any effect, or they’d break it/damage it/knock it over by targeting it incorrectly, depending on how “off” they were). Nor could they use magic to pick a lock if they didn’t already know how locks worked well enough to visualize the inside of it.
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For this reason, wizards tend to be pretty well-read in general, as you have to know a lot about the mechanics and structure of the world around you in order to make the best use of your powers. Hyden specifically has a lot of esoteric nerdy technical knowledge about how things are put together but also huge blind spots when it comes to how the world works in practice. For example, he may know a lot about the anatomy of a corn plant because he had to study them one time when the Royal Mages tasked him with purifying a village’s corn field of crop blight, but still be unable to identify a carrot or yam. He may be able to draw a detailed diagram of the wheels and axle of a carriage because he helped assemble a fleet of them once upon a time, but not have any idea why those parts go together or what they specifically do.
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14dayswithyou · 13 hours ago
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Hello hello Saiiii!!!
I have a book recommendation for Conan <3
I had a few Conan related questions, feel free to skip any that you think may contain spoilers-
1) After thinking about it long, I wanted to ask, At what age did Conan marry his wife? Can we get some vague hints about his early life
or his life with his wife?
2) Does Conan have an Irish accent?
3) Does he have distant/ close family members?
4) Apart from Elanor and Angel has Conan had any one on one interactions with the other cast members? If he has what does he think of them?
5) Has Conan ever dyed his hair in the past? If he ever decides to dye his hair now what color will it be?
6) I SWEAR this is the last one ;-; — His favorite song/ song that makes him sentimental.
Thank you in advance!!!
Have a great day/ evening Sai💜
⌞♄⌝ CONAAAAN!! I can answer most of these since they aren't spoilers :3
Conan met and married his late wife in his early twenties. He wasn't all that interested in the idea of marriage at the time, but his wife was the only woman that he truly cared for — and she was extremely enthusiastic about the prospect of having a family of her own — so he was willing to settle down for her. Seeing her happy made him happy.
In my mind, Conan does have a noticeable Irish accent, though he doesn't really use any Irish slang(?) when he talks.
He does have family living outside of Corland Bay!! Though Conan isn't really that close with any of them, he doesn't try to keep in contact with them either.
In my head and in my heart Conan and Jae have interacted more than a few times. I like to think that Jae applied to do volunteer work at the library (and secretly hoped he did a good enough job for Conan to hire + actually pay him), but unfortunately, it's not canon T_T So outside of Elanor and Angel, Conan has never interacted with the other characters. (Unless you want to count Violet renting out a book and Conan saying "thank you" or something sjsdgsj)
Conan has never dyed his hair. However, he has used those obnoxious glitter sprays at Alice's behest!!
The "hehe haha" part of me wants to say that Conan listens to Divorced Dad music (like "Lips Of An Angel" or "How You Remind Me"), but canonically, he'd probably listen to the mainstream pop songs that his daughter plays on the radio.
As for a song that makes him sentimental, Conan probably heard "I'll Still Have Me" by Cyn playing from the TV once and had to hide in the pantry for a quick Sob Session ghjsdj
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maudie-duan · 1 day ago
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First Series!!!
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Series Summary: For nearly two years, Harry has been fighting to keep his relationship with Olivia afloat. At what point does he make the choice to either endure or let the stain of the world defeat his ambitious hopes of a lasting relationship? Or will a single night and a fleeting encounter be enough to change the projection of Harry’s path? Maybe our ‘Mystery Girl,’ Shiloh, will just happen to be in the right place at the right time. 
A/N: You guys, this is my first series; bear with me. In no way, shape, or form is this meant to follow Harry’s actual life, nor are the facts or timelines real. This story will be from Harry and Shiloh’s POVs. I like switching between them. I’m nosy, and you get more details this way. So, if you like details, you’re in the right place. This story will be a slow burn, so hold tight. I’m glad you’re here!!! ENJOY!!!!
Word Count: 2K
Warning: Strong language, minor angst, eventual smut, emotional.
Harry’s (POV) Part 1- Mystery Girl
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I don’t usually think of how my relationships will end, but I’ve been thinking about our ending—the consequence of our beginning looming over our heads as if it were a pleading prayer whispered into the night. When “I love you” no longer sufficed, the emptiness stretched between us and how fickle we were. How we continued seeking tiny moments, desperate to fill that void—A revolving door of new faces and places where we lay tucked away, pressing our bodies together like puzzle pieces, hoping that one day they would fit together—indefinitely.
Surely, we knew this wasn’t going to work, right? From the beginning, we’ve been on two different parallels, trying to make this work, trying to force a path through murky water when neither one of us knew when or how the tide would roll in—and here I am, miserable out of my fucking mind. In a shit headspace just waiting for this evening to end because there’s nothing worse than getting into a massive blowout right before an event. I can’t figure out what’s worse, the fight or the forced niceties. The last place I wanted to be was in public, but this is my life.
Olivia was on about something—actually, I don’t even remember what the fight was about this time, and that’s what it’s been lately. These bullshit fights about petty, senseless matters that take more energy to create than they do to fix. It’s just that she’s gotten so jealous and paranoid that I’m growing distant, that she’s the only one fighting to be in this relationship, and maybe she’s right.
—Side note: Before tonight, I really hadn’t been interested in anyone. Honest to god, I was truly in this wholeheartedly.
Anyone who knows me knows I’m constantly in the public eye, even if I think I’m lying low. There’s always a chance that someone will recognize me. The chances of someone taking a picture are even greater because everyone needs proof, or it didn’t happen, right? I personally don’t believe in this—but to each their own—If you know me and who I am, that’s precisely what you get. She knew this when we met, yet she insists that every move I make is for the world, like I can’t comprehend all of the sacrifices that she has made to be with me. Trust me, I know, and as of late, she’s taken every opportunity to throw it back in my face. 
In all honesty, I know that relationships take work, but isn’t there supposed to be balance? Somewhere along the way, we’ve lost that. We both jumped in feet first and now life seems to be catching up even faster—the constant push and pull in every direction is getting old. Everyone wants something, and she wants the most. It’s like she doesn’t understand the sacrifices that I’ve made. It’s not easy being the world’s biggest pop star and falling in love, but I felt she was worth it at the time.
And now she wants more—Roots that I can’t seem to give her. It’s like I’ve only just begun to find my own footing, stepping into the skin that finally feels right, that’s mine, and she wants nothing to do with it—She wants the control. She wants me to align with whatever she thinks our life should be.
I mean, I get it. I understand wanting the security of always knowing your next move or having a better grasp, but surely Olivia knew what she was getting herself into. It can’t be this big surprise that our life together isn’t panning out into what she had imagined, and the shittest part about it is that I don’t even want to try anymore. I don’t want the things that Olivia is trying to project onto me with every fight that ends with her begging me to choose her—is that not what I’ve been doing this whole time?
I’m lost in thought when Olivia whispers something into my ear. She had gone on and on about this Gucci Cruise show and was pissed when I decided I didn’t want to sit front row. I didn’t want to distract from the show or draw unwanted attention. Especially after that fight—God, that stupid fucking fight that left her in tears, her makeup a wet smear all over her face, almost making us late. 
Tonight was supposed to be memorable. How many people get the chance to attend a Gucci show? This was my first. It’s an honor that I wanted to appreciate and take in with the gratitude I feel not only for the brand but also for the friends I’ve grown quite close to.
“I just feel like the whole point of coming to a fashion show is to sit in with the audience and have a genuine experience of the clothes and the people—” Her comment is pointed and sets me off, so I do the asshole thing and walk toward someone I know leaving her alone with her underhanded comment.
Eventually, I walk over to the edge of the curtain, peering out into the crowd, trying to pinpoint faces I’ll see later, making a list of people I want to see or possibly avoid. As I skim the front row, my eyes land on a woman who looks vaguely familiar. Still, I can’t put a finger on it. She sticks out like a sore thumb. For instance, she is one of the few wearing dark sunglasses in a dimly lit room. Making her stand out in all black, except for the few accents that set her apart from everyone else around her, who are dripping with vibrant colors, something you would expect at a Gucci show—wild statement pieces, different patterns, and textures that ebb and flow amongst each other.
She was magnetic in a way that made it hard for me to look away. The light played off her features, creating a soft aura. A delicate ray of pink traced a faint glow around her. I couldn’t tell if it was an illusion or a trick of the mind in my rose-colored glasses. When I lowered my frames to get a clearer view, I found that she was just as stunning without them—and still, to this day, I can’t explain the feeling; it was like my soul took the lead, reaching out, hoping to find a tether. A single piece of thread that could tie me to her.
And there I stood, my mind spinning out of control. I don’t even know how long I stood there. How long I continued watching her, captivated by how the light which seemed to dance with the shadows every time a model passed in front of her. Another thing I noticed was her ruby-red lip. How they spread into a shy smile, the light catching the gleam of her white teeth—a sight I imagined could be seen from anywhere in the room if you were fortunate enough to catch it. I observed her as she straightened upright and crossed her legs, almost as if she had suddenly become aware of her surroundings. Was she nervous? 
Her hair was slicked back into a sleek bun, tight against her scalp, making her features more pronounced and giving her a tidier appearance than everyone else. This timeless look could set anyone apart from the crowd, but what really caught my eye was the gilded chain dress that hugged her all-black attire underneath. I wanted to see her stand up. I wanted to know how the light played off the delicate beads draped from the woven metal. I wondered if it was uncomfortable for her or if she realized she stood out more than the celebrities around her. She had to be someone important, right? Not just anyone can sit front row at a Gucci show—Who is she?
As if she sensed my gaze, her head abruptly turned toward the curtains, causing me to jump back and bump into Olivia. “What the hell?” I hissed. 
Olivia stepped back, eyes wide, my words landing with a bite. I thought, “fuck is she about to make a scene?”—and yes, the bitterness was unnecessary, but it came more from defense than anger. I didn’t want to be found out. What was I doing anyway? How long had she been standing there? Could she see what I was looking at? Or could I pretend that I was trying to get a better view of the show, which was technically true, right?
“Can we please start over tonight?” she asks, almost pleading. “I know tonight is special for you.” Olivia runs her hands up my chest and cups my face.
“Okay
” I exhale. I want to have a good time, but a part of me knows I would enjoy myself more without her here, and it’s this very feeling that will haunt me all night, my thoughts like demons filling the room—unwanted guests that I’m no longer sure I want to keep at bay, and I know this isn’t fair. 
I couldn’t tell if it was the afterparty or the drinks that came with it, but eventually, the mind fog that plagued me throughout the evening began to lift. It was like a breath of fresh air, each drink diluting the pressure; the animosity threaded into every conversation Olivia and I had was evaporating. I could let go of the stress and relax into the theme of the night—and that was to have fun and fucking enjoy myself because I work hard, dammit.
It was getting easier to play into Olivia’s game of putting on for the coward. This was the part she liked; she loved putting on in a room full of people. She fucking thrived on the attention—she loved wearing me like a glove she could take on and off whenever she pleased. 
I was already three drinks in when I spotted my “mystery girl.” It surprised me—she was much shorter than I had imagined, but something was compelling about her presence. When she finally looked my way, I instinctively put my arm around Olivia, feeding into the lie, feeling like a fool when her eyes flitted over me with no recognition, piercing my ego in one swift look. I didn’t know what I thought would happen
actually, I’ll tell you exactly what I thought would happen. I thought my presence alone would be enough to garner her attention. Instead, I stood there stunned when her eyes lingered on Olivia, sending her a friendly smile as she mouthed the words, “I love your dress.” pulling at the strap of her dress to drive her compliment home.
Astonished, I stood by, holding my breath as the transaction morphed into Olivia mouthing a returned compliment, making ‘Mystery Girl’ beam and my chest swell with jealousy as she turned away, not even sparing me a second glance. She moved through the room effortlessly, like a hummingbird, moving from flower to flower fast yet graceful, donning that beautiful smile that had me begging her to look my way—just one more time. That’s all I would need. 
Was she a journalist? It seemed like everyone knew who she was. She spoke to everyone she encountered with such ease that each conversation I noticed flowed as if they were friends—though perhaps they were, but how was I to know? At some point, I lost her in the night, or maybe I knew I had to release her from my thoughts. I wanted to end the night on a high note, not go home with a suspecting partner to whom I would have to explain myself later. 
So, by drink five, I was being pulled onto the stage with Stevie, duetting a few songs, and as I closed my eyes, singing out the lines:
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above? 
Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
I opened my eyes as we swayed into the chorus, browsing the crowd. My gaze locked with Olivia’s, who was crying, tears streaming down her face, a pained look of grief stealing her features. We shared a look of understanding. Maybe even realization, but it hit me hard, the sadness creeping up my spine as she turned and moved away from the crowd, and I noticed her bump into Alessandro, who caught her by the arm with a concerned look on his face. I pulled away from the microphone, my voice choking up, and I let Stevie take over. We both knew that our world was crumbling right before our eyes and when I glanced back over, searching for Olivia, she was gone. 
A/N: Ya'll let me know in the comments what you think. I'd love to get your feedback. If you think I should continue?? Hope you guys enjoyed!
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anpanman95 · 21 hours ago
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Bringing more Mark and Joke comparisons because there are SO MANY.
This post will be about posture, and the way War works his characters to be perceived differently purely by the way he stands on his two feet.
Oh, the perfection with which he prepared both of these characters is out of this world.
Let me illustrate:
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Joke, when he stands, stands taller; leaves no room of doubt he’s the chillest, coolest, most confident person, and cares very little how people are perceiving him at the moment,
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as long as he feels awesome. [his insecurities are not rooted in the way he looks or the way strangers perceive him]
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His head is kept high when he speaks. If you watch the show again, you’ll realize he’s always looking ahead and up unless he wants to go unnoticed,
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and meets people’s eyes unwaveringly as he works his way through his elaborated ruses to get what he wants.
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[We’ll talk more about how that changes with the object of his affection, Jack, on later posts]
Mark, my beloved, on the other hand, stands to look smaller than he is; not on purpose, of course, as it’s a deeply rooted thing within the character itself.
He does not look people in the eye for prologued periods of time, more of often than not looking away when he speaks to anybody.
Yes, that gradually develops as the show progresses, but shyness is an essential part of this character.
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His posture is not completely relaxed; it’s slightly tense which casts light into the character’s personality:
Mark wants to be standoffish and cool, but his innocence and sweet, gentle demeanor are truly his worsts enemies.
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He tries, though, throughout the entire show, to make it happen, but breaks off of it the moment someone (Vee or Mark’s dad) does or says something that awakens strong emotions.
When that happens he fails, because Mark cannot, for the life of him, hide his true feelings.
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A stark contrast to Joke, an absolute master in hiding who he really is.
All in all, Joke’s posture comes from a confidence rooted in a combination of maturity and not giving two single flying shits
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And Mark’s posture comes from a confidence rooted in a combination of innocence, self-esteem and guts.
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War has done a hard deep dive in both characters; created entirely opposite personas and made both Mark and Joke have so much depth and detail to them a million more things could be said about them.
There are hundreds of little details that War has added to each of his characters. He truly has thought about every single mouth twitch down to a T.
Every head movement, his micro expressions, and even the way he speaks, even though it’s the same language, the same words.
Everything about these two characters is completely opposite. And yes, the fact that they are both making opposite fashion statements adds a lot of weight to their differences, obviously, but that’s not enough at all to create what War has created.
Just imagine eighteen year old Mark in Joke’s crop tops and feeling incredibly self-conscious, and twenty (five? six?) Joke in Mark’s fancy, neatly tucked-in dress shirts and wanting nothing more than to take them off. (Joke has worn that type of clothing before only while pretending to be someone he isn’t, so it does not count. When he’s himself, he opts to wear all baggy items)
I could go on forever, guys, but this post is already too long, so I’ll just say one more thing:
I’d die for this man.
More on these things later, I guess!
Thanks for reading, remember to be nice!
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zvtara-was-never-canon · 1 day ago
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i've seen zks be like "if we were self inserting we would've been doing so with mai since she's such a blank slate character" but the thing is mai *does* have a personality, it's just an unconventional type of personality they can't personally relate to as much as they can with katara or jin
Katara also has a personality - one zutarians constantly disregard for the sake of self-inserting. Hence them constantly going on and on about how "No 14-year-old girl would go for a bald 12-year-old instead of the hot, older guy with a cool scar."
I wouldn't even say Mai's personality is unconventional, it's just personality that sexism says girls should not have. Being all nurturing and soft and vulnerable with someone else doesn't come easy to her, she doesn't react with too much emotion to most things, yet she will speak her mind when something isn't to her liking - and most things are not to her liking because, despite her apathy, she's not exactly someone people would discribe as "easy going". If Mai was a guy, especially a conventionally attractive one, she would be super popular, much like her boyfriend who could be a real bastard sometimes.
You just have to look at all the zutara fics, fanart and meta that constantly make Mai out to be an uncaring, cruel, and downright abusive person for doing things like not pretending to like something just because her boyfriend was the one to get it for her, or getting cranky, or asking Zuko to get her food, or simply getting mad at him when he unfairly accuses her of liking someone else... and then act like Katara is the "better woman" for supposedly being super easy going and "only wanting love"
Zutarians want a doormat girl that they can use to not only ship themselves with Zuko, but also to CONSTANTLY suck up to him. Katara just happened to be the one that was there from the start and, more importantly, didn't actually interact with Zuko that much, so she doesn't ruin their fantasy of "ideal girlfriend for precious boy Zuko" (extra ironic considering that, if Katara really was that passive instead of stubborn and strong-willed, Zuko would fucking hate her).
Because Zuko and Katara are rarely seen truly talking to each other and having to deal with their clashing personalities/goals, zutarians just pretend the negative scenes were "repressed sexual tension" to ignore the simple fact that these two characters genuinely hated each other - Zuko hated her for being a foreigner that dared to put up a fight against his nation's imperialism, and Katara hated him because imperialism killed nearly everyone in her tribe, including her mom - and then hyper focus on the few positive scenes, taking them out of context to make it romantic.
More importantly, they can pretend that they were TOTALLY thinking about each other during all those scenes in which they're dealing with literally any problem, as if Zuko and Katara were each other's "saviors", even though their arcs have nothing to do with each other -and since these are the overwhelming majority of the "scenes with zutara subtext" they are PERFECT for people who like self-inserting because they are completely blank slates.
But Mai? There are entire episodes in which her romance with Zuko is a super important part of the plot - and she speaks her mind regardless of whether Zuko likes what she has to say. She can be bossy, she can be cranky, and she is her own damn self (which Zuko canonically likes). More importantly, the show doesn't take the easy route of "every problem in their relationship is caused by something outside of their control, like the war or an obviously evil romantic rival that is totally coercing one of them into a relationship" - aka the lazy excuses Zutarians use to justify why their ship was never canon, let alone endgame.
Mai's personality is not easy to erase because she has an actual dynamic with Zuko, something Katara didn't have until the very end of the show and thus it naturally didn't get fleshed out enough to threaten the idealized version of it zutarians came up with in their heads. If Mai had been a one-off character like Jin, with only enough time to be charmed by Zuko's cluelessness, they would LOVE her.
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scrumptiousstuffs · 2 days ago
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Hi Sue! What do you think about today's episode?đŸ€­
In my opinion it was even better!! (Don't get me wrong, the bed scene between KantBison is still №1) I love the humour this show has, it's my style. The way First is flirting the hell out of everything, I'm here for it 😆 It's for all these times Khao was flirting with him heheh
And the way Style conquers Fadel, I'm living for every second 👀 And as the last scene shows, he's almost there...
Oh, and the music! Is top notch, I love the "Micro" vibes of it all (thanks to Sand I'm a Micro fan now heh)
Hello Mei!!! I love Ep 2 - all four boys continue to do an amazing job establishing their characters. The styling and music (like you say) continue to be a delight.
And since I am vibrating with excitement from the recent episode (despite my sleep deprivation cause the live airing for THK is after midnight for me), here are some of my musings:
1) I am delighted to see First playing Kant with such nuances. There is a degree of complexity with Kant. Yes, he is lusting after Bison (cause the sex was just that good) - but you can tell, he is pulling all the moves on Bison partly because of his job as an informant (the sleeping with target part is currently secondary, although I suspect this will change soon hehee). Everytime Bison rebuffs him whenever Kant tries to get physical/kiss him, you could see a break in Kant’s suave and cool nature (the grit and tension of his jaw, the slight tightness in his eyes and eyebrow lift - all of which occurs in split second before he quickly smooth his expression and becomes the charming flirt he dons on when he is with Bison). Similarly, when he is lusting after Bison, the mouth bite or quick tongue swipe across his lips as he makes a quick sweep of Bison’s body (most noticeable in that tattoo parlour when Bison dressed/undressed his pants).
Plus, him hiring his friend to flirt with Bison just so he could prove to Bison how jealous and protective he can be? - oh yes, I can see why the police keep using him as their informant. Kant is meticulous, a good planner and savvy (although I am quite amused this was the route he took when Babe gave him the advice to show how sincere he is with his feelings to Bison)
You and I both know First is a master in microexpression and here we are given another top tier performance by yours truly.
2) Speaking of microexpression, Khaotung also knocked it out of the park for me as Bison. He may be an assassin with a girgonomous knowledge on how to kill and dispose a body efficiently - but there is a naivety and innocence to him. Truly, only Khaotung could play a mixture of deadly assassin, cutie pie and naive dork at the same time.
His facial expression screams burnout when he is doing the assassin job. E.g: Bison being careless with the gloves? - I think it’s really a way of him essentially telling Fadel and us (as audience), he simply no longer cares about his job. Or everytime Kant flirts with him, the disbelief and bemused expression on his face whenever Kant proclaims he is “so in love” but at the same time, he can’t help be charm whenever Kant does pull the moves on him. And I will like to point out that Bison is gradually letting his guard down with Kant - him slipping and saying “Khun Mae”. You can see the micro-change in his expression when Kant pointed it out.
Bison has also voiced out clearly what he wants most at present is freedom, which includes no long-term commitment (one of the reason he keeps rebuffing Kant) - isn’t it interesting Kant is the one who keeps insisting for them to be boyfriends when he could have just agree with Bison to keep it casual/FWB type?. I mean, I’m sure the FWB will still allow some opportunity for Kant to snoop and gain information from Bison. That itself tells me Kant has subconsciously decided he wants Bison regardless of the informant/police business.
3) Style cracks me up so much in this episode. He is like the buzzing mosquito (affectionately) that Fadel wants to slap off but keep missing. I mentioned in a previous musing (on my side blog) that Style is sharper than most people realise (there is a reason why he is bestie with Kant).
Dunk acting was on point here - from the shameless and boisterous performance at the fieldtrack to him basically haunting Fadel like the Ghost from Xmas Past at the market and gym. But oh - I think he really clocked on how to break into Fadel’s shell after the very enlightening conversation with Bison at the burger joint. Not sure if you realised, but it’s after that conversation, he amped up his seduction rather than just trying to relentlessly annoy Fadel to submission.
Even Style kissing (quite aggressively, I may add) in the gym is calculated on Style part. He saw Fadel did not rebuff him in the sauna, clocked on Fadel actually checking him out. And so he took his chance!
4) And that brings me to my boi, Fadel (urgh, I just want to hug him so badly). We talked about how Bison has a touch of naivity to him. However, I think Fadel is just the same in some aspects.
Bison (bless him) really wants his brother to live a little. I cannot express how much I adore Fadel and Bison’s dynamic as brothers. Bison may be rebellious but he truly loves his big brother. And so, Bison giving his blessing to Style delight me to no end! (Also, did you click on Kant gritting his teeth (heh) when Bison admitted to Kant he primarily agreed for Kant’s bestie to hit on Fadel not because it will free them to date but so that his brother can experience living too!)
Anyway, I’m regressing. Poor Fadel is having a whiplash from all the emotions he has never previously experienced hitting him all at once because of Style. Style annoys him (yes) but you could also see the flicker of amusement in his eyes and begrudging admiration for the gumption of this shameless boy who does not fear him and will come up to his face (even if he gets soak with water, foot stomped or the threat of windpipe being crushed. None of these really faze Style (and I think that sticks in Fadel’s mind). Plus, with Bison whispering in his ears about how Style is cute and fearless (really Bison gaslighting his brother into thinking more about Style 😉).
And so, him jerking off to Style beautiful body (and face) that really was a revelation for him (he is so so aroused but also damn mad with himself for having any feeling at all) - did you also clock Fadel’s fantasy Style looking angelic and even more alluring/seductive than real life sauna event? (Truly good cinematography and storytelling here!)
Speaking of which, I am going to give a special shout out to the dancing scene by KantBison. Some people hate it (and I read some fans actually skip it due to the cringe nature) - I don’t know about you, but I love it. And we know with Jojo, there is always good reasons why a scene is included. Yes, it is a tribute to Pulp Fiction (which Jojo adores), but beyond that the scene is important for several factors:
1) Bison subtle challenge for Kant to prove he is willing to do anything for him
2) Kant essentially lying that he couldn’t dance (and Bison commented on this later on), which Kant smoothly cover up by saying he was just following Bison’s lead (that tells me Kant has variety of skills that we and Bison are not privy too!)
3) And oh the song choice - the lyrics talk about scheming, mixed signals and how the eyes don’t lies - ahem, what does that remind you of?
Ok, enough analysis 😂😂😂 - this is getting way too long. I’m also going to finish up by saying - I’m intrigued by Bison’s choice of phone - an old-fashioned flip phone when we know this is set at present time. And we still have yet to see Fadel’s choice of phone model - does it mean anything? â˜ș
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being-of-rain · 2 days ago
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Now that the whole series has been released, I binge relistened to all of Once and Future. And wrote down all my thoughts, of course.
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Definitely the series' main problem is something that affects a lot of Big Finish; it wants to have a story arc, but clearly the writers barely planned with each other or put any effort into that aspect. There's no flow or natural build-up to the finale, unlike what the premise and first episode might lead you to expect. Without much of a compelling arc, the only thing the series has to mark it as a special occasion is its many cameos and crossovers ...but in order to have more of those than the average Big Finish series, they had to pack so many in that most episodes struggle to handle it (in one way or another).
As a series, it unfortunately adds up to less than the sum of its parts.
With all that said, it's a series that I enjoyed a lot more during my relisten, since I could adjust my expectations. I forgot my desire for a grand or satisfying larger story, and just took each standalone episode on its own merits. There's a varying level of quality, but overall its not as disappointing as I remembered.
I decided to rank the episodes from my least to most favourite, and write a paragraph on each one.
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8. Time Lord Immemorial I was told this was added to the series at the last minute, and I believe it; it features the imminent destruction of every universe thanks to the use of the degeneration gun, and this little fact is not mentioned at any point before or afterwards. The plot is about a dull and generic all-powerful Time Lord fairytale with an incredibly convenient rhyme to tell everyone what to do. Not that anyone actually does much of anything in this episode. It's mostly descriptions of some impressive visuals and the trading of some half-hearted banter. The only thing of any substance at all in the story is the slightly interesting (though not as interesting as it could've been) relationship between the Lumiat and the Doctor, which is okay if you like that, and unfortunate if you wanted Liv and the Unbound Doctor to have any focus at all.
7. Two's Company This episode is the poster child of being assigned a long and truly random laundry list of characters by the producers. All elements of the episode feel like they're thrown together haphazardly, from the total disregard of the previous episodes' plot hook onwards. But the friendship of Jackie and Lady Christina, two of the least likely characters to be teamed up with the sixth Doctor, is perhaps the highlight of the episode (even though Jackie is written rather stereotypically). On the other hand, Harry Sullivan doesn't really add anything, and the bizarre introduction of The Two borders on the insulting. Back when The Eleven was first introduced, the audio took pains to note that his mental illness was not the cause of his villainy. Later authors seemed to have missed this memo, and none fly in the face of it as much as Two's Company. On top of it all, I think Lisa McMullin is just an author I do not vibe with. She's the only one who wrote two episodes of this series, and they're my two least favourite.
6. The Union I'm not a big fan of finales written by Matt Fitton, which is bad news for me because he's been Big Finish's Go-To Finale Guy for over a decade now. He always makes the plot a bit too busy and never quite lands the emotional moments for me. Once and Future's climactic episode gets a lot of fanservicey moments (some that I can enjoy and some that feel like an obligation), but the story arc that the series had been stumbling and crawling towards concludes with the Doctor winning a nonsensical moral argument about how he's fine with being and meeting himself, something that isn't demonstrated in this anniversary special and is contradicted in most others. The villain/s are a bizarre choice and rather unthreatening- but at least River and Susan are fun to listen to.
5. A Genius For War It's slightly baffling that in the middle of a series that flaunts its random character line-ups is a fairly standard Time War episode, with characters you'd expect to see in it (except for the Seventh Doctor I guess, but he doesn't feel that out of place in a Davros story like this.) I refrained from calling it a "bog-standard" Time War episode, because it does actually put some effort into being relevant to this series specifically, and is a fun little action movie to while away an hour (and celebrate the Doctor's longest-running alien foes in all their mediocre glory). Still, the fact that this ep is just before halfway through my ranking means that I enjoy this series more often than not.
4. Past Lives This is a charming episode, largely due to its fun cast of characters. It takes its time with its story, being literally halfway done by the time all the characters have been brought into the plot together, but I'm not saying it's badly paced. I'm certainly fine with it just giving us the Doctor and the Monk for the first 15 minutes. But the moment of this episode that always sticks in my head the most is the Doctor and Sarah reacting to all the pictures of the Doctors in Osgood's house, having a little bit of an existential crisis about it. It's amazing how taking even just a small break from the action for some genuine emotion can add to a story. See number 1 on this list for more. Oh I do wish it did more with the King Arthur/Once and Future theme though, especially seeing as it was what gave the series its name.
3. The Martian Invasion of Planetoid 50 Michelle Gomez and David Tennant are so good together. I don't have an awful lot more to say about this one, it's just solid entertainment. It's got great characterisation and a lot of funny lines. The episode really understood the Master when it said "Only one Time Lord would ever do something so mind-bogglingly, time-consumingly ridiculous."
2. Coda—The Final Act The final episode is second only to Two's Company in how random and long its list of returning characters is, but it handles them with much more grace and a satisfying story. I mean I do wish that Vienna Salvatori had a bigger role, but that's just because I'm a fan of her series, she works fine narratively (and there was a Jexie reference to appease me). Really my biggest complaint about this one is that it doesn't quite commit to the Doctor vs Doctor premise as much as I wish it would, with it all being a contrived trick, but it doesn't do that badly, it's fine. Wait, maybe my biggest complaint is the title: why give it two? Why not just call it Coda? Anyway, Bernice was a great choice for this episode, she's always been great at speaking her mind to the Doctor. And it was easy for me to forget this this is Jo Martin's first audio because she sounded so at home. Great stuff.
1. The Artist at the End of Time This might not be the episode I go back to listen to the most, but I think it is the best made, with the most time to breathe and the most coherent themes. (And it also happens to be the episode with the least amount of returning characters heaped upon it. What a coincidence.) The degeneration giving the Doctor something of an existential crisis, compounded by the end of the universe and the presence of the Curator, gives the series some much needed time to reflect on a key aspect of the franchise for its anniversary; the Doctor themself. It certainly works a lot better than whatever The Union tried to do in its last 15 minutes. Aside from all that, Five and Jenny and the Curator are just a rather sweet team to listen to, with an interesting problem to investigate and a lot of witty dialogue.
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kandadze · 2 days ago
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FoF rewatch ep 2: or, Heroes, assemble! (gifs and loose thoughts)
(The 30 images limit is annoying lol I have way more gifs I wanted to use but oh well.)
Having a spotty short-term memory really works in my favor lol I get to rediscover moments that I somehow forgot existed, like ZYZ fake-gagging at WX's endearment for ZYC (activating ZYC's Annoyed Cat mode). Just how the turntables, oh Great Demon...
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(The way ZYC grabs his sword at the second sneeze...)
The vow scene establishes that not only is ZYC's Cloud Light Sword the only weapon that can truly kill ZYZ *dead*, killing ZYZ with it is also the only way to prevent a new malicious energy vessel from being born. Absolutely no pressure, ZYC.
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It's fascinating that even at this very early stage, ZYC's hate is not *blinding*. It's intense, enough to squeeze tears out of his eyes (also can we just appreciate how openly ZYC expresses his emotions? He seems so closed off and stiff otherwise, and at the same time ... ::gestures at his tears::) but it's not all-consuming. ZYC asks questions and listens attentively when the demon responds, even seems affected somewhat when ZYC mentions being a vessel for the malicious energy. At the same time, he won't hesitate to swear an oath on his very soul to avenge the deaths of his family. And ZYZ looks at him, his would-be executioner, as if he was his savior... Right from the get-go, we're being alerted that nothing is quite as it seems at the first glance.
There's a certain smugness to WX in her early dealings with ZYZ that grates on me just as much on the rewatch. Sure, there's the fact that she's smart and can hold her own against him, and watching them banter and call each other's bluffs is pretty delightful...
And then there's her threatening to kill herself just to get a piece of information that he already refused to provide and is not vital to the issue at hand. I can just imagine how utterly stupid and wasteful that must've looked like to him, even if he didn't already have a vested interest in her wellbeing. You're lucky that he does care (and that this particular cell wasn't blocking his powers, or at least not enough), girlie!
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On the first watch, the scene with ZYC sitting at The Table of Brooding and looking at the tokens for the remaining members of the team with a clear apprehension was, at least to me, just pretty (look at that view! Look at his eyelashes! Ahem.). On the second watch you go, foreshadowinggggg!
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The Table of Brooding *and* Poignant Conversations:
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Our second glimpse at baby!YiChen and I realize that most of the memories we get to see of him are set in winter. It's a great touch, visually placing that sad, broken kid in a season that appears as dead, cold, and empty as his heart used to be; at the same time it seems to imply that even years later, a part of ZYC is still frozen and alone in that snowy landscape. ::hugs baby!YiChen::
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This is such a great shot:
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I unironically love how some things did not get any clearer on the rewatch, like the whole Ying Long prophecy/ curse is still confusing to me. If ZYZ is over 30,000 years old then that would mean that for just as long there was only one "evilest demon" to kill; if there was any other demon that was killed by a Bing Yi descendant *after* Ying Long, it should be recorded somewhere, but there's no mention of it ever (correct me if I missed something). Soooo the only "evil demon" killed by the Cloud Light Sword that we know of was Ying Long, literally in prehistoric times when the world was still being formed. And Fan daren is not of Bing Yi lineage... how does he of all people know about the prophecy in the first place? (did humans even have speech that far back? How was the prophecy even heard/ understood, not to mention recorded?) How does he know that it's accurate, and that it's a curse?
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Even our swordsman appears confused, but at the same time what he mostly cares about is that, curse or no, it means he'll get to avenge his brother and father. Even if he finds it odd that the demon *wants* to die so much he goes as far as to extract an oath from him. (This surely is not a set-up for a tragedy of Greek proportions, nothing to worry about ZYC)
Another moment that I forgot about, which once again proves that this whole show is like getting lost in a gallery - there's stunning portraits, landscapes, and still nature wherever you look.
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To continue with the foreshadowing, once we get to meet PSJ for the first time, she's, as someone already rightfully pointed out, *blindfolded*. It's an absolutely brilliant, if small, detail that means so much more once you get to know this character.
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Case in point for Bai Jiu and his silver needle...
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(Also, it just hit me that they show him seeing patients at the Jixin Clinic... can we say more foreshadowing???
Which actually begs another question... how has ZYZ *not* recognized the place??? Did he literally erase all of his memory of it - together with what happened here - from his mind?)
Even the way WX and ZYZ went about recruiting PSJ and Bai Jiu foreshadows what their respective dynamics will be - WX will flirt like whoa and PSJ might be a grump, but she'll be there to catch WX whenever the goddess needs her; and ZYZ, as much as he seems to enjoy teasing Bai Jiu, will remain endlessly patient and gentle with him at the same time.
(Bai Jiu could've had another, more mischievous elder brother in ZYZ is all I'm saying, had it not been for we all know what(s), as well as his hero-worship/ fixation on ZYC...)
Case in point, the whole scene of Bai Jiu arriving at the Demon Hunting Bureau:
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Then we have this - hilarious to me - moment when we get reintroduced to ZYC via Bai Jiu's admiring eyes, but all ZYC seems to notice is ZYZ:
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ZYC had Bai Jiu at äœ ć„œ (not that I blame him lol)
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(On the rewatch, this totally reads as hero-worship/ teenage crush, and I love love the found brothers story we get with these two, and *also* can you imagine how much the shipping potential would've increased had we gotten an older Bai Jiu, as was supposedly planned? I guess even GJM was not able to make *that* happen...)
How fast does WX go from snickering at Bai Jiu to running to PSJ's side once the archer arrives?
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(Love this outfit on PSJ, it's one of my favorite color combinations)
Our heroes, assembled!
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ZYC and ZYZ, doing what they do best (lol, or at least one of the things they do best):
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We also get introduced to ZYC's third mode, Petty Little Bitch:
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And finally, sorry WX, but you're supposed to be the one with book smarts in this ensemble... Even on the first watch I knew that the way they were made to "sign" that martial order was sus af, but she didn't even blink, or look at the damn thing again till the hidden message started appearing?
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Anyway, this is long enough as it is lol The first two eps were definitely building blocks of our squad. Time to raise the stakes in ep 3!
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every-kuzu · 9 hours ago
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Please I beg you to do a character analysis on Kakuzu <3 from whichever part of him you'd like
okay. i’ve got a two hour car ride and a playlist to listen to - lets take a crack at this.
i’ve talked about this a little in response to another ask, so i’ll be bringing up stuff that i have touched on before, but first and foremost - kakuzu is a very guarded character. a lot of the time, you need to pause and really observe him, peel back the layers, which is something a lot of naruto fans don’t really do - probably because kishimoto didn’t spend a lot of time on him and hidan. hell, there are some things that even i didn’t notice until i started this blog and had to pause and observe him.
so. when you ask the average naruto fan about kakuzu, what’s the first thing they would think of? money, most likely. and his love for money is a big part of his character - but is it really the biggest? he says that the only thing you can have faith in is money, which i have no doubt is his actual philosophy, but he still backs away from asuma and his bounty (which it’s clearly been shown that he wants) when pain calls them back to ame. hidan complains and tries to bargain for more time, but kakuzu shuts him up and falls back immediately. this could’ve easily been a moment where he too tells pain that they need more time, but no.
because kakuzu is loyal. one could even be so bold as to call him loyal to a fault, especially in the past and even more especially given his past. that loyalty is what allowed takigakure to betray him in the past, yet he still shows pain that very same loyalty. he even tells hidan that the mission they were given by pain is absolute - another thing that is very unexpected, given his backstory.
so what does this tell us? that kakuzu believes in akatsuki's plans, or at the very least has a lot of respect for pain. (this plan being nagato's original, not any of the three-or-four-different-plans-in-a-trenchcoat-bullshit that showed up in the war arc.) now, kakuzu is also very obviously jaded from a long life in a world like naruto's, so i'd say it's up to interpretation how much faith he actually had in akatsuki, but do you really think he'd stay if he didn't see himself getting anything out of it in the end?
and that brings me very-much-not-seamlessly to my next point: he's not as uncaring as he acts, and this is best illustrated through his relationship with hidan.
now, when you look at their relationship, the general consensus would be that they hate each other. and once you look a little deeper, it seems like hidan cares more then kakuzu. according to some sources, he only joined the akatsuki because of kakuzu, and he openly shows concern for him in the fight versus team 10 + kakashi. but what's often overlooked here is that kakuzu does the same, and that's likely because you have to look even deeper to see it.
on the surface, kakuzu seems to be at the very least annoyed with hidan at all times. he berated him and talks down to him most of the time, and hidan retaliates. they seem to be at each other’s throats most of the time. but kakuzu has a lot of faith in hidan’s abilities. the minute hidan gets his curse on asuma, kakuzu’s thoughts are about how he’s 35 million ryo richer, which shows that he truly believed that hidan had it in the bag. the same goes for the fight with team 10 + kakashi - when they get separated, kakuzu openly expresses that he believes that hidan will kill shikamaru. he also shows concern for hidan, which is best shown, again, in the fight with team 10 + kakashi. kakuzu might not show it as openly as hidan does, but he does care about him. unfortunately, since we get to see so little of them, this is the best example i’ve got and we can only speculate how this care extended to the other members of the akatsuki.
which brings me to the next thing i want to touch upon - his anger and how it’s presented to us. or rather, not presented, because it’s an informed flaw.
the kakuzu we’re told about through other characters is apparently famous for entering a murderous rage every time something annoys him, but the kakuzu we’re shown doesn’t match this. the kakuzu we see is jaded, stoic, and grumpy, but he’s never mad. the most we get is him taking a single swipe at hidan after he griped about a bounty, but that was just in the anime. we know that he’s killed four former partners in this murderous rage of his, but he never shows a sign of being even close to snapping in the manga. and yet this “anger” is what most of the fandom chooses to cling to when it comes to him, which i think is because it’s something that can be observed from how other characters talk about him and not something that you need to observe from him. still, kakuzu’s murderous rage is an informed flaw, which i think is disconnected from how he’s presented to us, especially when we dig a little deeper.
in the end, i don’t really have a conclusion to all of this. it was mostly a way for me to point things out that most people might’ve not noticed. but in the end, this is just my personal interpretation of all these little things, and i’m not trying to claim that it’s the only correct one, but i’m just saying - i believe that there is more to him under the surface.
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buffkitties · 1 day ago
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I notice a lot of people speaking of Komaeda's "beliefs", and their tendency to mark him as a person that puts others on toxic pedestals or strongly upholds them (he doesn't, but that's on another topic), but I never actually see people discuss Hinata's approach towards the system in Danganronpa. I feel like Hinata is closer to upholding those beliefs than Komaeda ever was, even putting aside the Kamukura project.
It's important to mention here that most people overlook Hinata's behaviour due to protagonists being generally pushed into a box, labelling them as morally pure, or somebody that you can see yourself through. While it is the case for a lot of media, Hinata does not belong in that category, and he has a strong character of his own.
One of the most visible traits he possesses are his deep insecurity and jealousy, which ends with him taking a lot of questionable or inherently harmful actions towards himself and other people, and really highlights how far he would go for something he really thinks he desires.
I'm putting emphasis on the "thinks" part here, since Hinata doesn't seem fully satisfied even when he does gain what he "wants"; nothing feels enough for him, and it leads me to believe that his problem goes far beyond just talent.
However, due to how the world is structured, talent seems to be a thing he latched onto since it was meant to be the greatest thing. Even so, it's his notable lack of self-worth that was really at play, and the idea of talent just seemed right, it being out of his reach and all.
Anyway, I'm going off of Hinata's mindset in SDR2 since I believe that the anime is not a reliable source at all, seeing how it mischaracterised everyone and even changed important aspects of the plot.
Even since the prologue, we can see that he feels uncomfortable with the whole idea of not remembering his own talent and the implication that he didn't belong in the group. When it is revealed to him that he does not have any talent, despite the (I dare say half-assed) reassurance, he still takes it to his heart as if that burnt him, while no one other than him cares about it. He becomes more bitter and clearly appears to feel lesser than them, even if his treatment didn't really change. Again, that is because it's his own problem. Also, I don't know if that's just me, but Hinata appeared rather defensive about it.
Moving on, that and a lot of other things he does really show that it is important to him to be a part of that system and most of his thoughts of it being unfair or unjust in some way are because of himself rather than it posing an actual problem. Actually, his mindset is closer to that it fixes people's lives, something that the majority believes.
While it isn't fully his fault, compare it somewhat to a mindset of a person that has internalised homophobia, or ableism, or anything else. A lot of people don't even truly believe it, but they feel as though they should and depend on other people's validation and opinions. It makes them need to conform, but doing so never feels good. I feel like what he does here is pretty close to not worrying about it as long as it isn't your problem, and not looking at the problem as something that should be prevented or considering the consequences it will bring.
It's just this: it's good, and I should be a part of it.
He constantly puts himself beneath others just because of it, and it's clear he sees his lack of talent as some sort of problem.
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drakorn · 1 day ago
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Rewriting Veilguard Part 3 - The Grey Wardens
Rewriting Veilguard Part 2 - The Shadow Dragons
Disclaimer: I don't hate the game, I actually think it's quite great given the development hell Bioware went through in those 10 years. This is more of a hypothetical universe where there was less of that behind the scenes drama. Just a fun writing exercise.
Writing an Origin Story Mission for the Grey Wardens
So before we start, I would like to notify you of three minor changes I made to my previous blog entry regarding the Shadow Dragons:
Varric no longer tells us about Solas straight away. I believe that’s a bomb that would be more effective when dropped later, otherwise poor Rook might just be a tad overwhelmed.
Neve stays in Minrathous rather than accompanying Rook and Varric. Yeah, as much as I like the idea of your chosen faction determining your first companion, I don’t think it’s really doable given the circumstances a few other companions find themselves in at the start of the game.
The Dreadwolf title card does not appear just yet. I found a better spot to use it later.
Now that we have dealt with the Shadow Dragon origin story, let us move on to the Grey Wardens. And here, we are going to have some fun because boy do I have ideas for this one.
The Grey Wardens were kinda the faction I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to playing at first and there’s a reason for that. You see, we already played a Grey Warden in DAO, and I actually like each game’s protagonist being someone very different. However, when I think about it now, there is some narrative logic to it. If DAV truly is the last Dragon Age game (which is very up in the air right now), it makes total sense to have this choice to bookend the story. You started as a Grey Warden, and now you’ll finish as one. Plus, with the Blight giving us its last hoorah in this one, it only makes sense to put the Wardens in a more prominent position once again.
So, without further ado, let us jump into the Grey Warden origin story!
Creating Rook
We start a new game, Varric gives his opening narration about the overall state of Northern Thedas, and this time, we click on the Grey Warden origin. The little blurb reads as follows:
“You are a Grey Warden. An ancient military order sworn to battle the ever-present threat of the Darkspawn, the Wardens undergo secret, unbreakable rites that grant them supernatural powers against the Taint. As the last surviving member of the Dornen outlaws, you joined the order after a passing Senior Warden invoked the Right of Conscription at your execution and gave you the chance to fight another day. But what you will do with it, that is up to you.”
Right there, we have a great canvas to paint with when it comes to sheer roleplay. We are a former criminal, the last survivor of a group known as the Dornen. Our group wasn’t, like, evil, but we were enough of a presence in the area in and around Hossberg to cause some proper trouble. The Anderfels is a dangerous land, the most dangerous one in Thedas. People don’t live, they survive. This means that many turn to unlawful ways to make ends meet. But being a former outlaw beautifully lines up with the theme of second chances the Order gives to so many people.
In DAV, our Warden’s name is Thorne. “Dornen” is the German words for “Thorns”. The Anderfels’ linguistic and etymological side is mostly based on German (“Anderfels” meaning “Other Rock” or “Weisshaupt” meaning “White Head”). So wouldn’t it be a fun idea if “Thorne” isn’t really the Warden’s last name but just the name they ended up going with? They arguably never knew their family name and the Dornen were as close to one as they could have gotten.
Unlike Mercar, your racial choice won’t really have that much of an impact here as the Wardens accept everyone into their ranks, as long as they can fight. However, if you choose to be a Qunari, it will add a few unique dialogue lines about how few Qunari there are in the order. You are probably one of the only ones.
For this hypothetical playthrough, we shall pick a dwarf warrior, and I’m giving him a big ginger beard. Just going full Lord of the Rings here.
Alright, so we just generated our Thorne, and now we get to hear Varric’s continued narration. We get a series of those beautiful tarot-styled illustrations with Varric’s voice telling us what’s been happening with the Wardens for the last decade. The Wardens in the North specifically have been all gradually returning to Weisshaupt Fortress, by order of the First Warden. They have become much more reclusive and secretive than they already were and are sharing practically nothing with the outside world. Something’s definitely going on. And Varric thinks it might be part of something larger.
Weisshaupt Fortress
And now, for the first time ever, we get to see Weisshaupt Fortress in all its glory, a gigantic fortress carved into the very mountains, the great headquarters of the Grey Wardens that withstood for over a thousand years.
I really like the way Weisshaupt is portrayed in DAV, my only gripe is that we never get to actually properly explore it. I was
surprised by that, actually. So what better way to explore Weisshaupt than have it be part of the Grey Warden origin?
This is place filled with such incredibly rich history. Just imagine, this place has existed since the First Blight, an event older than Andraste. This is an absolute field day for lore enthusiasts such as myself.
As soon as Weisshaupt appears, we get a grand reprise of Inon Zur’s DAO main theme, establishing it as the Warden leitmotif. Now that we are able to properly play as a Grey Warden again, we are just eased back into that feeling. We might not be playing the Hero of Ferelden anymore, but we can definitely bring back the nostalgia. Music is such an important part of storytelling, it’s insane how much a well-chosen theme can do.
Meeting High Constable Janos
Thorne arrives at Weisshaupt after a recent patrol through the mountains and we are greeted by High Constable Janos, the second-in-command to the First Warden. For some reason that rank never comes up in DAV, so we’re just going to include that here.
Here we’re going to establish that Janos was the Warden-Commander who invoked the Right of Conscription during our execution all the way back in Hossberg a few years ago. But why would the Right of Conscription even work in a time without the Blight? Well, this is a fair question for any other nation than the Anderfels. But the Anderfels is constantly threatened by darkspawn incursions, making it the only nation where the Right of Conscription still holds weight without a Blight. Given how the First Warden is often seen as an advisor to the King/Queen, one can also say that the Wardens’ whole “no politics” spiel doesn’t really apply in the Anderfels, either.
Janos informs us of an upcoming mission, assigned by the First Warden himself. Thorne is to meet him, Janos, and a few others in the war room later that day. It is something quite urgent.
NOTE: Throughout the prologue, Rook is still referred to as Thorne, given that “Rook” as a nickname does not exist yet.
Exploring Weisshaupt
Before we head off to the war room, we get a chance to properly explore Weisshaupt for the first time. And there are some interesting things to be done here:
Thorne can walk in on a recruit training session hosted by Davrin. Yep, if we’re a Grey Warden, we get to meet Davrin a little earlier than every other origin. We won’t know anything about his secret griffon mission yet, so for now we just meet him as a trainer. We learn that Davrin and Thorne joined the Wardens at roughly the same time and initially disliked each other due to their different pasts. But over the years, they grew to a mutual understanding since that’s just what being part of the order does to you. In this encounter, we get to train the recruits with Davrin for a short while, even do a sparring session between the two of us.
We come across a few recruits who are yet to undergo the Joining. From here, we learn that there hasn’t really been a great influx of Wardens recently as people just don’t see the necessity. And while the Right of Conscription applies in the Anderfels outside a Blight, it does so only when the alternative is a crime verdict. The recruits know about the Joining already, so we can either reassure or prepare them for the possibility of dying.
We learn from the general chatter as we traverse Weisshaupt that many of the older Wardens are getting ready for their Calling. Since there’s such an unusually high number this time, they are organising something akin to a massive group exodus into the Deep Roads. From the same chatter, we also learn that there has been a staggeringly smaller amount of recruits every year. Some of the older Wardens are worried.
We can enter the library and meet Valya from the Last Flight novel. Instead of just leaving the Wardens for an unspecified reason like in DAV, here she stayed, survived her Joining, and has since been promoted to Chamberlain of the Grey, the order’s chief archivist after her predecessor embarked on his Calling. Her role in rediscovering the griffons had a huge part to play here, but we don’t know that yet. She has also entered a relationship with Caronel who has been promoted to Warden-Commander of the Anderfels. From Valya, who is also in charge with gathering reports from Wardens all around the world, we learn how the Wardens in the South are doing, and it’s quite something. Nathaniel Howe is now the Warden-Commander of Ferelden and operates from Vigil’s Keep. Yes, all Wardens have been ordered to return to Weisshaupt, but Ferelden is an exception to this summon as the First Warden deems Amaranthine  being an actual Arling and two Grey Wardens ruling the country as too valuable of an asset to just drop. The same can’t be said for Orlais, though, as we learn that the Orlesian Wardens, currently led by Stroud and Thom Rainier, have fortified the Warden stronghold outside Montsimmard and are currently acting as peacekeepers. In addition, Bethany is currently overseeing the still-standing Griffon Wing Keep. The First Warden looks at them with disdain for refusing to obey his orders, but he also can’t, in good conscience, declare war upon them as every Warden is valuable.
NOTE: Here we see some of our World State shine through. In this playthrough, Hawke was left behind in the Fade, allowing Stroud to be a force for good among the Wardens. Blackwall took back his original name of Thom Rainier and became a proper Grey Warden. Since Hawke took Bethany and Anders to the Deep Roads in DA2, Bethany was made a Grey Warden. Nathaniel Howe was recruited and both Vigil’s Keep and Amaranthine were defended properly, allowing the Wardens to once again maintain a strong presence in Ferelden. As mentioned in the previous post, Alistair and Cousland currently rule Ferelden. And, as we're about to see, Avernus has been left alive and allowed to ethically continue his research.
While still in the library, we get to read a few letters sent to Valya. One of them is from Cousland, dating back a few years now, stating that she is close to making progress on how to stop the Calling but that this is the last letter she’ll be able to send as she’s embarking to places where communication just isn’t possible. Another is from Stroud, stating his regret for how things turned out. Here we get some hints as to what happened when he came to Weisshaupt during DAI. Apparently him and the First Warden clashed on ideals, the First Warden insisting on staying distant and secretive and Stroud being in favour of change. The third letter is from Ramesh, the Warden from Tevinter Nights who discovered one of Ghilan’nains labs and is now searching for the other eleven. The fourth and final letter is a report from Avernus and concerns the progress of his superior Joining ritual. All of these are just codex entries as I doubt we'd get to see this publicly.
Meeting the First Warden
After exploring Weisshaupt, we enter the war room, where Jowin Glastrum, the First Warden himself, awaits us. Joining us in the meeting are High Constable Janos and Warden-Commander Caronel.
Now, let me make something very clear about the First Warden. I like that he’s old-fashioned and traditionalist in DAV, I think it was very in-character of him to act distant and dismissive towards people outside the order. However, he is also a Grey Warden first and foremost at heart, he has Thedas’ best interest in mind. He isn’t here just because of status and standing, no, he clawed his way up the ranks through valiant deeds. We know that many Wardens in the Anderfels come from noble lines and still have ties to those. While the First Warden is of a noble house, he doesn’t use that as something to flaunt over the Wardens. His idea of having ties to noble families is a strictly pragmatic one: the more ties, the more aid, the more recruits. While he might not get along with outsiders, he absolutely respects the Wardens under his command and, while not always agreeable, would never meaninglessly sacrifice them. He’s harsh, strict, often an asshole, but still a Warden at heart.
The First Warden briefs us on a mission: A strange crack into the Deep Roads has opened near the village of Lavendel and a darkspawn horde is gathering for a full assault. Wardens Evka and Antoine are already on-site, preparing the defences.
The First Warden orders us to take charge of the village’s defences alongside Caronel. Under no circumstances are we to abandon post. High Constable Janos will arrive with reinforcements to secure our victory. The idea is to lure the bulk of the horde out of the Deep Roads so that we can slay most of them.
We can inquire why Thorne was chosen for this, since our presence alongside the First Warden, the High Constable, and the Warden-Commander is pretty insignificant, to which the First Warden answers that we are very much due to becoming Senior Wardens ourselves, it’s just this one last assignment left until our promotion.
After the briefing, we leave the war room and encounter Davrin again, with whom you can share in your either excitement or humbleness. In any case, Davrin congratulates us on the soon-to-be promotion, claiming how deserving of it we are and how he would have never thought so upon our first meeting all those years ago.
If we wonder why Davrin wasn’t chosen to head to Lavendel, he’ll tease that he has something else going on, equally important, but won’t tell us what it is just yet as it’s top secret (wink wink caw caw).
Reaching Lavendel
We depart Weisshaupt and leave for Lavendel, a small but significant village not far away from Hossberg. We take a few newly joined Wardens with us, a group consisting of the recruits we met earlier at Weisshaupt.
Upon entering Lavendel, we are approached by Evka and Antoine, who have been busy preparing the defences. From the ensuing conversation we gather that Thorne is very well-acquainted with them, similar to Davrin, having shared in many patrols across the Anderfels with them.
While Caronel takes charge of the mission, he trusts your judgment on matters as it is your time to prove yourself further in the eyes of Weisshaupt. High Constable Janos leaves you be now and heads off to prepare the reinforcements on the other side of the hills.
In the distance, a faint dark red cloud indicates the approaching darkspawn.
Preparing for Battle
Before the darkspawn assault begins, we have the chance to explore Lavendel a little and engage in its defences. During this short segment, we have a few encounters to experience:
Naturally, we can talk to Evka and Antoine and reflect on some of our past adventures together.
We can speak to the new Wardens we’re supposed to co-lead with Caronel, either inspiring them or telling them to be realistic and not too hasty. It’s obvious many of them joined because of the heroic notion surrounding being a member of the order.
We can encounter Mila and her father, Lavendel’s blacksmith. Yeah, I haven’t made them occupants of Weisshaupt just yet, you’ll see why in a bit.
We can inspect the defences, which boil down to barricades, a few ballistae, and, of course, the Warden stronghold just outside the village. If we explore enough, we see a very large and lose rock on a jagged edge right next to Lavendel. Maybe this will be useful later? Since we took the extra time to look around, we can now have that in the back of our head. We can also spot a crack in the stronghold’s basement and encourage quick repairments to be made.
We can speak to Caronel and share in thoughts about the coming fight. All of us Wardens can sense the approaching darkspawn. Caronel isn’t too worried as it’s just a minor skirmish, albeit with a larger-than-usual horde. And why worry? We’ve got Janos swooping in with reinforcements, anyway. We can talk about Caronel’s promotion to Warden-Commander, which was very recent. It is surprising how one so young climbed the ladder so fast, to which Caronel responds that it’s really not so uncommon anymore, given how Ferelden’s Warden-Commander got the title only a year after joining. Well, granted, she took down the Archdemon and somehow lived to tell the tale, but the point stands.
Before we commence the battle, there is one big choice to be made about our position and that of the villagers. While Evka and Antoine suggest to pull all Wardens and villagers into the stronghold and brave the storm there, Caronel would rather only keep the villagers in there while us Wardens head out into the open and prevent the darkspawn from getting to them in the first place. We don’t really have enough Wardens to divide, so we must make that choice now.
Send both the Wardens and the villagers into the stronghold and fight on close and narrow ground. The villagers are at risk from getting into the heat of battle, but the Wardens will be close by to defend them.
Send the villagers into the stronghold and let the Wardens fight in the village itself. While the villagers will be more vulnerable in terms of sheer distance away from the Wardens, the darkspawn is less likely to even get near them.
For the sake of this playthrough, we choose to evacuate the village, and ourselves, into the stronghold. We feel confident but would rather keep our charges close to us. Being a former outlaw in the Anderfels has taught us how one should never leave their goal out of sight. Our aim is to defend, not to gloriously destroy. This shows us that Thorne is willing to cast the pride of glory aside and choose an arguably safer path.
An Old Friend
Our decision made, we deliver a short speech to the villagers, instructing them to head into the Warden stronghold. We shall follow suite immediately and position ourselves on the walls and in the courtyard. Since we’re familiar with the darkspawn’s habit of digging tunnels, we’ll make sure the basement is accounted for as well.
Once the villagers and Wardens head to the keep, we are approached by a most familiar face: Varric Tethras. This is certainly a surprise. While we’ve never met him in person, we’ve certainly heard and read about him. Varric says he was passing through on an errand of his own and figured he might as well aid Lavendel’s defences with Bianca. While we can question the sincerity of this statement, we can use any help we get.
Varric comments how many Wardens would seek out the more daring and glorious path and is pleased to see that we’re not one of them.
The Battle of Lavendel
Right so we’re all hunched up in the fortress, and the atmosphere is intense. Now, all of us sense the evil just outside our doorstep. The dark red cloud is directly above us. Everyone looks to Thorne and Caronel for leadership while Evka and Antoine keep morale up. Varric, while being easy-going, is very much battle-ready now.
The darkspawn slowly creep through the village like a dark carpet of disease and corruption. We hear the deafening screeches of shrieks in the distance and see various hurlocks and genlocks make their way between the buildings. At this point, a thought comes to us, one we share with Caronel. Holy shit, that’s a lot of darkspawn. And no sign of Janos yet. Where is he? Where are the other Wardens? Surely this can’t be less than the bulk of the horde yet. This is almost like a new Blight.
A horrifying thought grips us and we quickly sense into the Taint for any signs of an Archdemon’s song. To our relief, we hear nothing. The relief is short-lived, however, as the darkspawn reach the stronghold and send in a wave of shrieks to scale the walls.
We engage in a properly gritty fight against the darkspawn and can make use of several ballistae on the battlements. But we quickly realise that this place is just not at all well-prepared. Evka and Antoine’s pre-defences, alongside our inspection, are all that’s keeping this place from being overrun. Why is this in such a shoddy condition?
We then hear fighting from the basement. Ah, so the darkspawn did attempt to dig through. Good that we halted their progress by mending that crack, giving us time to respond.
We head into the basement and confront some hurlocks and genlocks. After the skirmish, we sent several grenades into the tunnel below, causing it to collapse without damaging our infrastructure too much.
Returning to the courtyard, we see something strange. A few of the shrieks have reached a group of villagers, but instead of slaying them, they’re trying to abduct them alive. While this wouldn’t be strange if all villagers were female, given that darkspawn need broodmothers to multiply, they are taking the men, too. What
?
We make short work of the darkspawn, and at this point, some of our newly joined Wardens have fallen, but only the Wardens. Now would be a really good time for Janos to show up.
At this moment, we hear loud dum, dum, dum. Huge footsteps approach. We look at each other and have all the same reaction: Ah shit.
The gates to the courtyard break down and a huge ogre walks in. Oh boy, here we go. Now would be a really good time for Janos to show up!
We take down the ogre with great difficulty and see that another large influx of darkspawn follows. After dealing with those, the fighting ceases for a moment.
We head to the battlements and see another group on the outskirts of the village. Then we remember the huge loose rock. Oh yeah, baby.
We quickly load up a ballista and aim across the village, towards the jagged cliff. It takes three shots for the edge to become lose enough, but it works. The huge rock collapses upon the newly approaching darkspawn horde, squashing them all beneath, but taking some of Lavendel’s houses with it.
The relief is short-lived, however, as we can still sense the Taint in our heads. Further away, past the outskirts of the village, we can already see a new horde of darkspawn amassing. And still no sign of Janos.
We gather a quick emergency meeting between the Wardens, and some start speculating that
Janos might not be showing up. Evka and Antoine are of the same belief, while Caronel holds on to the hope that reinforcements are on their way. Why wouldn’t they be? Wardens stick together.
But what about us? What do we believe? Janos personally recruited us all those years ago, he personally saw to our training. Why would he
but where is he then? Why isn’t he coming? Maybe he was held up? But by what? Was there another darkspawn horde on the other side of the hills? But why can’t we sense them? In fact
why can’t we sense any other Wardens in the immediate vicinity aside from us?
Wherever Janos might be, we have to hold out on our own. But if the darkspawn keep coming, we won’t hold out at all eventually. And if the Wardens die, the villagers will be
what exactly? Killed? Or taken? No villager has died so far. Why is that? What’s going on here?
Eventually, Thorne concludes that if we are to survive, we must seal that damn entrance ourselves.
But how will we go about this? Do we take all Wardens with us, or just a few?
Take all Wardens to the Deep Roads entrance. The villagers are exposed but the darkspawn may be largely drawn to us given that they haven’t even as much as injured anyone else yet.
Take Evka and Antoine and leave Caronel and the other Wardens with the villagers.
No matter what we choose, we are going against the First Warden’s orders to not leave Lavendel under any circumstances until reinforcements arrive. And at this point, if we are to survive, we have no other choice. We tell Caronel and the other Wardens to secure the villagers’ retreat from Lavendel, while Thorne, Evka and Antoine head off to seal the entrance to the Deep Roads. Caronel is hesitant at first but comes to agree with you. In Death, sacrifice, true, but the sacrifice has to mean something. Varric offers to accompany us but since he’s no Warden, we refuse. He’s more useful with protecting the villagers without risking getting instantly blighted.
Approaching the Crack
With Evka and Antoine at our side, along with several grenades from the stronghold, we head across the dark hills. A few darkspawn break off from the main horde and try to stop us, but we make short work of them.
After a few short skirmishes, we reach the entrance to the Deep Roads, a very steep crack located between two rocky hills. It is guarded by two ogres. The rest of the horde have already departed for Lavendel. It’s now or never. We might be fewer but two ogres
we can take them. Maybe.
We throw ourselves into a fight with the two giants and slay them after exchanging some fierce blows.
Now that we have a short breathing moment, we must quickly go about sealing that entrance. However, looking at it reveals that we can only collapse it by doing so from below. No use doing it from up here. But this action would cause the Warden who does it to be trapped.
We look at Evka and Antoine and order them to give us the grenades. They initially refuse but we remind them that as Warden Thorne, we have been given charge of this mission. It’s either us or no-one. We take the grenades and bid farewell to our favourite Warden couple, ordering them to return to the others. We then recite the oath of the Grey Wardens between us. “In Peace, Vigilance,” says Antoine. “In War, Victory,” says Evka. “In Death, Sacrifice,” says Thorne.
The Deep Roads
We descent into the cavern and find ourselves immediately struck by an overwhelming sense of the Taint. There are more darkspawn here, and they are coming.
We quickly go about preparing the grenades, when we are suddenly stricken by a strange sense. It is similar to the Taint, but also different, almost
purer. Suddenly, we become incredibly aware of the cavern around us. We can sense each layer, each type, each consistency. We can sense hidden passages, the tunnels the Darkspawn are digging right now. And we feel
whole, strangely so. And this is only something we experience if we picked a dwarven Thorne, for we are experiencing Stone Sense.
At this moment, a figure approaches us from the dark, followed by darkspawn. We look up and see a tall, cloaked being, wearing dark armour that we can’t recognise. We can definitely sense the Blight in it, but it’s
weirdly different in a way we can’t describe. The figure has veins of lyrium writhing all around its form, red lyrium.
It speaks to us, but we can only hear its voice in our head. It asks us to stop, to let be done what must be done. When we ask who and what this thing is, it simply refers to itself as “The Emissary”. While the Emissary won’t tell us exactly why it wants the villagers, it hints at a great and regrettable mistake that has to be rectified before it’s all too late.
Being the Warden we are, we attempt to still go through with our grenade plan, but the Emissary casts a spell of pure, raw magic on us, causing us to be knocked against a wall. But we refuse to go down fighting and challenge the Emissary to a one on one.
Similar with Laskaris in the Shadow Dragon origin, the Emissary is a fight we aren’t meant to win. But if we lower its HP to 0, the cutscene will be a little different.
In our seemingly dying breath, we hurl the grenades against the weakest parts of the crack, which we can clearly determine due to our Stone Sense. The Emissary howls in fury as the rocks descend upon us, sealing the Deep Roads off of Lavendel for good. All turns black around us.
Saved
But strangely enough, this isn’t the end. We wake up back in Lavendel and see Varric. He says he followed us in secret as he had a feeling we might be needing assistance. When Evka and Antoine showed up without us, he increased his pace and the three made it just in time. Varric climbed down and found us in the rubble, saving us from certain death.
Evka and Antoine join us and profusely apologise for leaving our side, despite us ordering them to do so. Well, it seems the Wardens in general have a feeling for disobedience as of lately.
When we inquire about Lavendel, we are told that everyone is save and none have been taken. This is because of the time we took to explore the place before the battle. By sealing the basement and collapsing the great rock, the darkspawns’ numbers were too few for what came next.
But
what came next? We find out the moment we walk outside.
A whole entourage of Wardens hurry about Lavendel. The reinforcements arrived after all. Or so we think.
High Constable Janos and the First Warden approach us. When we remark on the lateness of the reinforcements, the First Warden orders us imprisoned. What? Why? For disobedience, of course. We see that Janos is uncomfortably silent during this exchange.
But we saved Lavendel. We repelled the darkspawn horde and sealed the entrance to the Deep Roads. What could he possibly be so mad about? It can’t just be about disobedience, right?
Well
as we slowly, horrifyingly learn from the conversation, Lavendel wasn’t meant to survive. All who were there, Wardens and villagers alike, were supposed to fall to the darkspawn.
Here we get the context: the Calling has been manifesting in more and more older Wardens. At the same time, Weisshaupt is receiving fewer and fewer recruits. This combination will eventually have the effect of the order facing extinction. And outside the Anderfels, the Right of Conscription means less than nothing now. The world has grown complacent in a world without the Blight, even though the recent one has only been twenty years ago. And the Anderfels doesn’t have a large enough population to feed the ranks on its own.
By using this abnormally large darkspawn horde, letting it consume villagers and Wardens alike, the First Warden hoped to convince the nobility to encourage greater recruitment again. It can’t be a coincidence that the Calling has been manifesting increasingly more frequent now.
But Thorne has been a thorn in this plan’s side and ensured that the First Warden’s plan backfired spectacularly.
Shocked, we turn to Janos and ask him if he was aware of this. Yes, he was. In Death, Sacrifice. In War, Victory. And the war isn’t over as long as Razikale and Lusacan still slumber beneath the surface.
Caronel has been stripped off his rank as Warden-Commander of the Anderfels and Evka and Antoine will be assigned to very far-away duties for the foreseeable future. Thorne, however, as the instigator of this chaos, is to be tried for disobedience and treason.
This is where we can lash out, accusing the First Warden of having lost his way. We can also add that Lavendel’s villagers wouldn’t have died anyway as the Emissary wanted to collect them. When we tell the Wardens of what we saw beneath the surface, the First Warden, as we would assume, does not believe us, assuming we’re using this as a convenient excuse to paint ourselves in a more heroic image. Janos, however, knows us, so he isn’t so sure.
At this point, Varric chimes in and argues against trial and imprisonment, stating it as just a waste of effort. Instead, he offers to take Thorne away for a matter of great importance. The First Warden objects, stating that Weisshaupt’s affairs are to remain its own. Janos, however, in a change of tone, takes Varric’s side. Whatever Thorne’s reasonings are, one can’t deny that we are a true Warden. NO matter the disobedience, we fought against the Blight and won. There will be other opportunities to gather more recruits, but we do not deserve a trial for doing what we joined the order for.
The First Warden eventually relents. Remember, he is still a Grey Warden, with Thedas’ best interest at heart. Him doing this whole Lavendel thing was him acting out of desperation to keep the order alive in the long run. The morality is incredibly questionable, he’s definitely an asshole, but he is not heartless. Rather than putting us in chains, the First Warden suspends us from all Weisshaupt duties and instead tasks us with travelling the lands, searching for new recruits until further notice. Dismissed.
Leaving Lavendel
When the First Warden leaves, Janos makes an attempt at conversing with us, apologising for sending us into death. We can be either understanding, or angry, or just hurt. Despite our rough exterior, we are hurt because Janos was the one who saved us from another execution in the first place. Janos definitely feels bad about it, but orders were orders. Yeah
orders were orders, we respond.
Varric approaches us and confesses that he’s not here by accident. He’s looking for someone among the Wardens to accompany him on a very special mission of the utmost importance. He heard from some of his contacts that Lavendel would have fitting candidates. And he is certain he just found the one. What exactly are we doing, now that we’re stuck with him? Varric promises to reveal everything in good time. Now, he would very much like to get out of this place. We can either go immediately or have some final conversations. Being the completionists we are, we of course choose the latter.
We can talk to Evka and Antoine and just be glad that we’re all still alive, despite being given rather shitty jobs now. Well, that’s a no on the promotion for now, right? But we’re confident we’ll see each other sooner rather than later.
Caronel honestly doesn’t even care about his demotion. He’s just glad he survived and is now able to return to Valya. But if he were still Warden-Commander, he would make us Senior Warden in a heartbeat. Sometimes, one simply has to defy orders.
We can talk to Mila, who excitedly announces that her father has taken Janos’ offer to be Weisshaupt’s new blacksmith, given that the fortress desperately needs one again.
The Wardens who were under our command during the battle look up to us in awe and call us a hero and inspiration, no matter what the First Warden says. They actually pretty much despise him now as he was so willing to just let them die.
Once all of this is done, we head to Varric and and half-enthusiastically announce our readiness to depart. Varric smiles and welcomes us to the team. What team? Oh, we’ll see. But he recommends us going by another name for the foreseeable future as the First Warden might just be petty enough to make our life more difficult by telling foreign Wardens or members of the nobility about our streak of disobedience and conspiracy theories. Well, that’s easy enough, we say, back in the Dornen, the others used to call us “Rook” for that one time we headed straight in and brought down a very well-connected Hossberg nobleman. “The strongest piece on the chessboard,” Varric chuckles. “I like it.”
Now going by Rook once again, we head off with Varric. As Lavendel is nearly out of sight, we turn around and look at the gathered Wardens one last time. This
is not how we pictured leaving the order one day. But no, we haven’t left it. We’re just
taking a vacation. With a heavy heart, we turn back to Varric and follow him into the unknown.
And that’s it for this one! Now we have our Grey Warden Rook origin story. It’s a lot, I know, but the Wardens have a lot of material to work with. And the whole plot surrounding the Emissary will make sense later, I promise.
Next time we shall be heading off into Arlathan Forest to draft a potential Veil Jumper origin story! Stay tuned!
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cherryblossompink303 · 2 days ago
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Patience: ~Jungle Pool SOS!~
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➌ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➌ summary: when kyoya offers up his families yet to open resort no one could have guessed what would actually happen. ➌ what to expect: “I have a duty of care for you" ➌ warnings: none ➌ Part six | Part eight
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Now considering this was technically considered a club activity you have to admit this was the most relaxed you had been in a while. The sun beaming down on you while you sun bathe, even the usual drama of host club antics get lost in the serenity of an empty resort.
"I must admit Kyoya, when I joked a few years ago that the ootori group should create a holiday resort and label it as a form of therapy I didn't think you took it seriously" you muse, eyes closed as you bring in the sun rays.
Kyoya shrugs but quickly remembers that you can't actually see him "Believe it or not I don't completely disregard your ideas, expecially when they truly have merit, my father seemed to agree"
You hum knowingly at what he actually meant by that statement "I'm assuming that he doesn't know that it was my idea then" You tease, not really being that mad about the stolen idea, it wasn't like Kyoya was getting any direct monetary profit from the resort. "I did try crediting you but he had a hard time believing a fifteen year old girl came up with it by herself"
You weren't exactly surprised, you had met Kyoya's father after all, you knew what it was like by now. Luckily you were too relaxed to care at that moment.
There was a moment of silence, peace between the two of you. It was actually something you enjoyed when spending time with Kyoya, the two of you never forced conversation for the sake of it, which on it's own sounds sad but it makes any words that the two of you do exchange all the more important.
"If...you have any more ideas like that...tell me about them...I can at least appreciate a good idea when it comes from you" you laughed under your breath, "Well of course" lifting your sunglasses to rest against your head, sitting up to face him properly "You have taste"
"Why thank you my dear" he joked, taking a sip of his drink, watching chaoes unfold as Tamaki and the Twins argue over what Haruhi should wear. Typical.
“Haru-chan! Let’s play! You wanna go swimming in the current pool with me?” Honey tugs on Haruhi’s arm with a pink float decorated with bunnies clinging to his waist.
“Nah. I’m not gonna swim today. Hold on. You know how to swim; you still need that float?”
Honey shakes his head, “Mm-mm. Just looks cuter this way, you know?” Honey spins on his heel to go prancing in the other direction toward the current pool.
“Mm, he’s right. Those bunnies are pretty cute.”
“He’s so innocent.” The twins materialize on either side of your chair despite the umbrella above them.
You sigh, leaning back in your sun lounger basking in the controlled chaos you are used to.
“No way! You’ve got it all wrong!”
You start, awakened by a powerful rumbling in the ground and echoing voice.
“Is that Renge?” Haruhi turns her head to the offending sound.
A cabana splits in half, and the trees part to make way for her infamous contraption, the rumbling sound now accompanied by her shrill laugh.
“How does she do that? It’s like the rig follows us.” Haruhi sweats.
you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose "One day, all i want is one day"
“That outfit’s pretty impressive,” Hikaru observes Renge’s two-piece bikini and a tattoo winding up her ribcage.
“What’s with the tattoo on your stomach?” Kaoru inquires.
“Oh, that? You don’t recognize it? I’m cosplaying.”
“Yeah, as who?”
“La-La~”
“LaLa? Like the manga magazine?” Kaoru grumbles.
“Her petite and slender frame, her blue eyes that light up young men’s faces, her singing voice! I am Quon Kisaragi!” Renge extolls.
“I wouldn’t have guessed.” Haruhi sneers.
“I had no idea who you were supposed to be.” Tamaki shrugs.
Once again, the twins and Tamaki are huddled in a circle as Renge poses for Haruhi, who watches, miffed.
“Hey, Boss, are you sure it’s okay for Renge to be dressed-”
“-like that?” They point to the girl in question.
“Well, yeah. That’s okay.” Tamaki shrugs indifferently.
“And why is that?”
“Because it’s cosplay? I guess.”
“Listen up, boys! You obviously need help understanding Haninozuka’s hidden motives. Look!” Renge notes, pointing over to Honey and Mori.
“Takashi!” Honey calls, landing in the current pool and letting the current sweep him gently away as Mori watches fondly.
“What are you talking about?” Tamaki implores.
“Think about what he said to you earlier.”
“Just looks cuter this way, you know?”
“He’s not being as sweet and innocent as you think.”
From the chair next to you, Kyoya shoves his glasses up his nose, “I agree. Try putting the word 'I’ at the beginning of that sentence.”
“I just look cuter this way, you know?”
“I look cute!”
“He planned that?!”
“That’s Haninozuka for you. In the last part, he felt threatened by another loli-boy type, so he’s taken steps to keep his rank. I should give him more credit. He’s a lot smarter than I thought.” Renge descends into the ground and disappears.
“Hey! Look at this, everybody!” Honey draws everyone’s attention to him and Mori.
Mori swims diligently against the current with Honey on his back.
“Check it out! Look! Even though we’re swimming really fast, we never go any farther than we are now!” He waves excitedly.
“So, what’s up with him?” Tamaki groans.
“Could he really be that smart?” Haruhi interjects.
Hikaru cocks his super-soaker water gun; the squeaking draws Tamaki’s attention to them before he’s blasted in the face with a stream of water.
“I got ya!” Hikaru winks handsomely, resting his weapon of choice on his shoulder.
“C'mon, Boss, let’s go! Let’s have a water gun fight.”
“It’ll be me and Kaoru against you. If you get it in the face, you lose. What do you say?” Hikaru implores, hand on his hip.
“Forget it.” Tamaki dries his face, “Why would I want to subject myself to a childish game like that?”
An idea forms in each of the twins’ minds.
All of a sudden, you’re grabbed by your wrist and pulled from your nap with an exclamation of surprise.
“y/n, I think it’s time that we got married! Then we’ll honeymoon in Atami!”
You quickly break from their hold, sitting back down on the lounger really not wanting to get involved. "Considering if y/n was going to marry anyone it would be me you clearly haven't thought through your plan very well" Kyoya spoke up, glaring at the twins before nodding towards haruhi.
The twins quickly pick up what he's putting down "Good point Kyoya, we were thinking about this all wrong, Haruhi clearly is the better option SHE should marry us"
"gee thanks" you mutter but its clear that it did the job of pissing off Tamaki, breaking out a waterfight between the three of them.
“I’ll get you guys! Sideways-leaping shot!” Tamaki launches himself sideways, but the twins shield themselves with two comically large tiki masks.
“That’s cheating!” When Tamaki lands, his foot catches on the previously discarded banana peel, and he tumbles noisily into a totem pole, head first.
You wince and suck in a breath through clenched teeth, “Oh- that didn’t sound good.”
One by one, the animals on the totem pole’s eyes glow an intimidating red until the final animal at the top is shining.
You remove your sunglasses from your eyes and place them on your head, “That
 doesn’t sound good either.”
As if he senses something is amiss, Mori drops his glass at your feet, attention diverting to Honey in the current pool, still carelessly kicking his feet.
Something underneath the water rumbles, and a wave develops until it’s practically a tsunami. With wide eyes, Honey watches as it heads straight towards him.
“Wah~!” It crashes over him, and his bunny float is sent soaring into the air- but without him inside as he’s flushed in the wave.
“Honey-Senpai!” You lurch from your chair, and your sunglasses fall discarded to the ground.
“Mitsukuni!”
Both you and Mori hurry to see if you have enough time to save him, but Mori slips on the same banana peel and falls harshly to the unforgiving concrete.
“Mori-Senpai,” You call in concern.
Tamaki jabs a heroic finger in the air, “Gentlemen, we’re going after Honey-Senpai! That pool looks like the quickest way!” he announces, referring to the pool Honey was treading water in before he was washed away.
“Charge!” Haruhi, Mori, and the twins follow Tamaki’s lead as they sprint haphazardly in a random direction.
As you see that Kyoya’s stayed put, you decide that it might be best to stay put as well. His family did build this resort, after all.
“Wait! I wouldn’t go-”
It’s already too late; the club has come across the alligators in that direction. “There are alligators in there!” They flee as quickly as they can.
Tamaki jabs another heroic finger in the air, “Okay. So we can’t use that pool, then let’s try this way next!”
But where Tamaki has pointed, several more alligators appear, snapping their jaws in a warning.
“They’re here too!”
“And here!”
With his more petite, brown leather portable notebook, Kyoya’s glasses glint off the sun as he explains your current situation.
“Those alligators belong to the park’s tropical animals exhibit. I guess it is kind of dangerous to let them run wild.”
“And yet i'm supposedly the one with bad ideas?” You huff in frustration, peering at Kyoya from your crouched position on your nap chair.
“Though, the cause of our present situation seems to be the location of the switch for the current pool. I’ll have to have a little chat with our designers.” He snaps the notebook shut.
“Thanks a lot, you guys. I got some great data today.”
“You what?!” The club exclaims.
“Ok I'll admit that is a little smart" You shrug.
“This is a map of the Tropical Aqua Garden. This is our current location. We need to get here- I have a feeling that’s where Honey-Senpai probably ended up. It might be tough, because to get there, we’ll have to make it this jungle area in the southern block.”
Kyoya drags his pen along the map to indicate your path, “Distance-wise, we’re talking about 800 meters.”
“It looks like there’s a lot of undeveloped areas. And idea what might be lurking in those parts of the jungle?” Haruhi cautiously inquires.
“Since they’re still being developed, I’m afraid I don’t know.”
“Yeah, someone’s going to have to carry me.” You lift your arms high and glance around for any takers.
None. Yet. You’re going to have to work on your skills.
“Whatever’s out there could be even more dangerous-”
“-than alligators.”
“Alright. Now, this is a mission of survival! I know we can make it through the treacherous jungle in one piece
 It is our sworn duty to save Honey-Senpai!”
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In the dense plant life and humidity of the inner workings of the jungle, the sunlight is much more filtered than it was out in the open.
“Wow, this place is just like a real jungle, huh?”
If you couldn’t see the glass dome and someone had dropped you off in the middle of this theme park with no knowledge as to how you got there, you might have believed you were in the jungle.
“Yeah, and I keep hearing all of these really strange animal calls,” Haruhi grumbles.
“You don’t think that all of those animal sounds-”
“-could belong to the real thing, do you?”
Kyoya shrugs, “To be honest, I’m not sure, but I do know that my family always strives for authenticity whatever the cost.”
"There surely must be some kind of ethical issue if that is the case, wouldn't be a good healing facility if there is a serious alligator injury" you pointed out, suprised that Kyoya's family would put actually dangerous animals in an enclosed area.
Kyoya hummed "I suppose so but it also wouldn't surprise me if that was on purpose to drive more business to our hospitals" he muttered only loud enough for you to hear really. It didn't surprise you either really but you dreaded to think if that was actually the case.
As if on cue, Mori slips and falls behind the group. At the loud grunt and crash, you all turn to him. He lays unmoving with a banana peel on his face.
“Mori-Senpai is-”
“-acting as clumsy as you do, Boss.” Hikaru and Kaoru worry.
“Shut up!” Tamaki snarls as Mori sits up from his position on the ground.
Your accusations are correct- Mori is more worried than you can imagine.
The sunlight diminishes greatly, and you look overhead to see the beginnings of rainfall.
“Uh-oh, it’s about time for the squall,” Kyoya notes as he checks his wristwatch.
“Huh?”
The first few drops fall, then it turns into a downpour. You and the club take refuge in a nearby pavilion with a straw roof.
“Hey, Mori-Senpai. You seem to be really close with Honey-Senpai. Are the two of you like childhood friends?” Haruhi inquires from her seat in the pavilion beside the twins as Mori leans on the edge, watching the raindrops fall.
"You don't know?" hikaru asked "They're cousins" Kaoru added. You lean back against the wall of the shelter you are all in, sighing as you look out into the rain.
"Now this is the kind of rain that I remember" you mutter to yourself, the rain reminding you of europe. Kyoya also leans against the wall next to you "Hello? It's me. Well, we've had an incident that's caused some trouble"
you look up to see Kyoya on the phone, most likely to either his father or someone high up in his private police force. "No she's fine. yes she's unharmed" You raised an eyebrow, obvious that he was talking about you although you were confused on why whoever he was talking to was asking about you.
In the mean time Mori and Haruhi seem to wander off "Yes, at once, please" he finally put down the phone. "My family's private police force is going to send in a search and rescue team to help us, they're better equipped to find Honey-senpai than we are. so let's just go back to the gate and wait there"
The others weren't listening except for you, too busy arguing over Haruhi. "Hey, where are Mori and Haruhi?" he questioned as all of you left the shelter to head for the gate, but he shrugged it off, figuring they would show up at some point with a search and rescue team around.
The other boys rush ahead, still arguing "when you were on the phone before, you were talking about me? weren't you?" You ask kyoya, looking up at him as he looks ahead. "I was, why do you ask?"
You dead pan at him, head tilting at the side "You know why"
Kyoya sighs "you know I have a duty of care for you, as does my father, if I call up our police force when it is known that I am with you it is protocol to ask about your safety" he explains.
He pauses, stopping in his tracks "You know, I'm don't believe I mentioned to them that there are other visitors here. Huh. Oh well" He shrugs carrying on, hovering a hand over your back to urge you forward.
however instead of finding the gate you instead find a series of police officers on the floor with honey, Mori and Haruhi standing before them. We break out into a run at the sight of them "Haruhi!" Tamaki cries.
"Are you alright?" he adds, the five of you out of breath as you come to a halt "Hey its Tama-chan!" Honey says as if he hadn't just knocked out a dozen guards.
"You okay, senpai?" Hikaru asks. "Haruhi!!!" Tamaki leaps for her "I was so worried" the twins bend down to check on the guards "I'm not sure what happened here, but at least they're alive"
"It's pretty amazing that this is Honey sepai's work"
"He must have been really holding back" they continue to poke at the guards
"Huh?"
“What do you mean he was holding back?” Haruhi queries with innocent eyes, although Tamaki is in serious pain.
“So then-”
“-you don’t know about Senpai?” The twins seem bewildered by her lack of knowledge.
“The Haninozukas are famous for their martial arts. Not only have they helped train the police and SDF forces, but they’ve also worked with several overseas military forces.” Hikaru elaborates as they abandon their fascination with the grounded soldiers.
“Honey-Senpai, in particular, has been called the dreadnaught of the Haninozuka family. By the time he was in middle school, he’d become the national champion in both karate and judo.”
Honey turns when he feels he’s called, then giggles with closed eyes.
That’s the karate and judo champion for you.
“Mori-Senpai’s no slouch either. He won the national championship in kendo when he was just in middle school.”
Haruhi looks to her savior, and he turns when his name is mentioned.
“So how were you able to find us, Honey-Senpai?” the twins inquire as Honey has returned to his natural aura.
“It wasn’t hard. It didn’t take me long to reach the end of the current pool, so I decided to look for you guys.”
“We humbly apologize!” A different, more foreign voice pipes in, and the attention of the club directs to the soldiers, now reoriented from their initial shock and kneeling to the ground in a show of respect.
“I am a second-generation student of the Ishizuka Dojo!”
“I’m a student of the Todoroki Dojo!”
“And I’m from the Otakeh Dojo! We are in your debt!”
Honey’s eyes and posture display innocence and confusion, “Why? Is something wrong?” His voice can easily be mistaken for an eight-year-old boy’s.
“Yes, sir! We’re so sorry, sir! We were unaware that we were searching for Mitsukuni Haninozuka! We’ve committed a terrible offense here! I apologize for this confrontation. But my dojo will be so excited to hear that I’ve come face to face with the great Haninozuka! I cherish this moment!”
You snort, scooting closer to Kyoya, “I bet if he offered them an autograph, they’d pass out.” You snicker. You almost draw a smile from him, but rather he gives you a condescending look.
“What? I bet I’m not wrong.” You pout.
Honey takes Mori by the wrist and gently brings him down to his level, patting him gingerly on the forehead, “Takashi~ you did an amazing job of protecting Haru-chan.”
This patronizing show of affection elicits a smile from Kyoya as he adjusts his glasses.
“I bet you were pretty lonely without me around, huh?”
Mori’s eyes dart to the right where Haruhi is stood, “I don’t know if I’d say that.”
Honey smiles with a fond giggle.
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With the sun setting, the clear, blue water now fades to an orange, coral color as it washes upon the shore. It has taken the rest of the day to walk back to where you’d begun this journey.
Despite his earlier resentment, you now ride on Kyoya’s back, limp arms slung around his neck and your cheek pressed to his back, eyes contently shut.
Back to your much deserved nap.
“You know, maybe we should go to the beach next.” The twins stride ahead with arms casually thrown behind their heads.
“Yeah, the beach would be nice.” Kaoru agrees.
Kyoya glances over his shoulder at your relaxed features and smiles fondly. He’ll have to keep you away from the water.
“You idiots, Haruhi’s not interested in anything like that.” Tamaki scoffs confidently.
Haruhi smiles gently, “Actually, I might like to go to the beach.” It stuns the club, each one stopping in their tracks to look at her.
“I may not be into this silly water park but I like the ocean. It would be nice to go the beach, and it’s so pretty.”
Completely recovered and acting like he hasn’t just opposed it, Tamaki glitters, “Yeah! Alright. Then that’s where we’ll go next time.”
“We’re all gonna go to the beach, Tama-chan?” Honey quips, perched on Mori’s shoulders.
He hums gently, “That’ll be fun, don’t you think?” His inquiry is directed to Mori below him.
Mori simpers fondly, “Yeah,” It’s not hard to pick up the genuine agreement in his tone.
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Next time on patience 'The Sun, the sea, and the host club!'
Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000
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postm0rt3m · 8 hours ago
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mdni!
smut. barely any plot. lol!
crazy eyes.
you’ve seen crazy eyes before. the crackhead down the street, a mugshot on the morning news, an enemy soldier on the battlefield ready to give his life for their evil cause. its nothing that really phases you anymore. living in a random podunk area of manchester, its something you see a lot (and not just on the field) more than most people would think.
but never in your life have you been fucked with crazy eyes before simon riley. and, god, if it doesn’t get you absolutely feral.
simon riley, or “ghost,” as most people call him, is one of the very few people you’re specifically not supposed to have relations with. but
 it just adds to the thrill, right?
he’s actually quite sweet, when you get him in private. he’s a nuzzler! he loves to bury his face in your neck, or lie on top of you. so what if you can’t breathe.. he’s basically a big warm weighted blanket! just a 250 pound one!
and the first time you guys had sex, he was as gentle as could be. well.. as he could be.. considering his uh.. massive.. situation..
he’s a big boy! so obviously, you expected him to be big. it just works proportionally. but jesus christ, he’s all of eight inches (probably more, hard to tell when he’s ramming it into your stomach) and thick. like.. stretches you thin, type thick. and thats just soft!
so of course, he tried his hardest to be a sweet gentleman your first time. and a lot of times afterwards! but sometimes.. he can’t control himself. which is where you are now!
you and the entirety of the 141 just got back to base from a strenuous and harrowing mission. many lives were almost lost, and many bad calls were made. “its part of the job,” you tell yourself, and so do most of the other members. because, really, it is a part of the job.
but lieutenant riley doesn’t see it that way.
out of the many bad calls made, he made two. two. simon riley never makes bad calls, let alone multiple on one mission. so, safe to say, he is pissed. and when simon is pissed, there’s no calming him down. only he can calm himself down.
you can barely keep your eyes open, the only thing grounding you being the occasional scratch of the brick wall on your back where your shirt is ridden up and the dig of his nails into your thighs.
you found him pounding his fists into a punching bag in the training room, blood dripping down his knuckles and onto the floor. you felt horrible! you’ve never seen your secret man so distraught after just a few bad calls. truly, they weren’t even that bad! no one got hurt from them!
so, as a good future wife girl would, you offered to help him relieve his stress. in your mind, you were thinking maybe a back massage, a cuddle afterwards! um.. no. you were wrong. sorry.
“fuck, lovie — bloody tight, ain’t she?”
you can’t even get out a verbal response, your eyes rolled back as obscene moans, whines, and just about every noise imaginable escapes your lips. not to mention, the growl in his low, gruff manchester accent just adds to your pleasure and cock-drunk state. although a snarky comment does play at the back of your mind, along the lines of ‘yes, simon, she is tight, because you stuck your cock in me within five minutes of us getting in here.’
his hips are pistoning into your own at an almost ferocious pace, his hands gripping into the backs of your thighs and holding them in place against your chest as he traps you between him and the wall of his room. you can feel the pulsating warmth of his cock, the feral pace he’s set ingraining each vein into the lining of your sopping cunt.
you flutter your eyes open in an attempt to look at him, just for them to cross a split second later and your head fall back rather hard against the wall as a dark chuckle rings through your ears, the vibrations of his chest against yours instantly going south.
once you do manage to finally get your eyes open, you tilt your head down to look into his own eyes. and holy shit.
this man is looking at you like he’s about to fucking murder you. his eyes are widened, pupils blown out, that same intense look you remember oh so well from the battle field. his mask is tugged back down over his chin (although you could’ve sworn you left it up!), so thats all you can see. his eyes. those eyes.
i mean, sure, you’ve had people look at you like that before. its an almost every day occurrence in your line of work. but.. jesus christ.
your eyes almost instantly roll back once more, that familiar pool of heat in your stomach spreading through your entire body.
suddenly you feel his heavy palm slam down on your skin, a loud moan escaping your lips from the schlap! of his sweaty palm against your warm thigh.
“fuckin’ look at me. you tha’ fucked out you can’t keep those pretty lil’ eyes open?”
you hear him growl out, his rough fingers digging so hard into your skin you know theres going to be bruises tomorrow.
a few moments go by before you can actually process his words, your eyes opening as much as you can get them to as you stare straight into his widened and crazed eyes, the intensity of his gaze burning straight through your entire body.
“good girl. look’t you, listenin’ so well even when i’m fuckin’ ya raw, ay?”
he coos, although you can’t really tell if he’s mocking you or actually praising you. to be quite honest, you don’t care either way.
you babble out a response, along the lines of “please!” or maybe “simon!” which prompts another low chuckle in return.
you’re not sure what happened to your sweet love-making simon! you can’t really bring yourself to complain, but the stark difference from those love-struck eyes to these murderous ones just do something to you. (gets you absolutely soaked, plain and simple!)
just thinking about it is what brings you to your absolute train wrecker of an orgasm, staring dead into his gorgeously terrifying eyes until you physically can’t keep your eyes open anymore.
“bloody hell.. ther’ya go, love. makin’ a right mess all over my cock. you always come that hard?”
oh, but don’t worry, you’ll get him back for all that mocking. two can play that game, right, lovie?
—————
🙂
thats all i have to say (why is the emoji so big) (if u saw this post already no u didnt.. i hated the formatting so i had to repost)
actually.. this was inspired by this tiktok slideshow i saw once of this guy with a shiesty and he was showing his crazy eyes and he was sitting on a staircase i think and i was gonna link it but COULDNT FIND THE VIDEO BRUH.
also this has been sitting in my drafts gor weeks so sorry for the rushed ending.. just pretend like they both cum and live happily ever after ya
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hotvintagepoll · 1 day ago
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Buster Keaton (Sherlock Jr., One Week)—Grandfather of slapstick and did a lot of great stunts for comedy including the first having a set piece down with him standing in the doorway still referenced today, riding a cow catcher on a locomotive, and falling from a third story building through two awnings grabbing a rain gutter falling forward and then going through a window.
Bert Lahr (The Wizard of Oz)—I don't know much about his other work but the cowardly lion, i would argue, is peak weird little guy exemplary. i've always felt wizard of oz is the story of three vaudeville gays taking dorothy to the emerald city and i think that's mostly bert lahr's fault (affectionate)
This is round 2 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.
[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]
Buster:
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Many scrungly little guys look as if they're falling down a staircase. Buster Keaton actually IS falling down a staircase, every day of his life. Also, truly committing to the "little" part at around 5 foot 5. This competition will be the revenge of the short kings or I will die trying.
Link to the Coney Island fancam
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First, he kind of looks like a Dollar Store Charlie Chaplin. Just absolutely busted Chaplin. Second, he's lanky and awkward and he's like if Doug Jones had been plopped into the silent movie era. He looks like a cartoon come to life. He looks like if you gave a chihuahua a human body and slightly less anxiety. And because it's silent films for the most part, it really does look like a cartoon character irl.
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Bert:
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loveanddeepspice · 2 days ago
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đ•‹đ•–đ•žđ•Ąđ•„đ•šđ•Ÿđ•˜ đ”Ÿđ•Łđ•’đ•”đ•–
✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.
✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader
✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)
✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)
✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.
✞ chapter:  7 / ?
✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)
✞ ao3 link:  here
✞ chapter synopsis: things have just heated up, but the weather is getting colder. the early winter breeze brings in someone you really would prefer not to see.
✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6 | chapter 7
Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!
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Corinthians 13:4-7: "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."
The act had cracked open his heart or perhaps created more tender spots. 
Father Sylus generally perceived his life rationally, involving humility over pride. 
She had finally let him lay his hands on her, and maybe that was the most selfish thought he had ever had - thinking that she was made for him. After everything played out, her nervous glances and the embarrassment she showed. And yet, with the first real touch they could have, she dove into it with less hesitation, allowing for the most physical of interactions. The way the desire ignited in her gaze, like her body knew exactly what she wanted. It had consumed him, and he had given in right there, held at her mercy. This was something real that had taken place. 
Something almost sacred. 
It took the word ‘faith’ and made it physical and tangible. What was faith, really, but trusting in something greater than yourself and so much deeper than just being optimistic? 
For the first time, he realized there may be more meaning for him in the world, something beyond faith and what he had set in motion for himself. There was a shift in his path, and it would end in
well, he wasn’t entirely sure. The promise he had made to God was what brought him to this town in the first place. The first pangs of lust rose unintentionally and unwantedly. It was the feelings he didn’t expect. When she came to him - so nervous, so desperate, and the offer was laid bare, the absolute rawest version of her standing before him
 
Whether it was part of the Lord's plan or not, the outcome truly mattered. The details and circumstances were insignificant in comparison, and that was perhaps the most perplexing aspect of the entire experience.
“Father, are you listening?” Talia’s words interrupted his thoughts. 
Father Sylus blinked and raised his gaze, locking eyes with the woman sitting across from him in the small diner. Her intense blue eyes were firm and kind as she tightly held a cup of coffee. "I apologize, Talia. Could you repeat the question?"
“Something’s got you distracted.” She said, studying him. Her eyes squinted, leaving him to wonder exactly how perceptive she was.
To say she was perceptive would be an understatement; she was downright nosy.
“Don’t get me wrong, I like the quiet, but usually you pay better attention. Everything okay? Are you getting another migraine? Need more Tylenol? Here, I have some right in here.” Her hand searched for the bottle in her bag resting on the seat beside her. 
Father Sylus coughed out a sharp, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “No, no, that’s fine. I’m alright, honestly. Just a bit tired today, I guess.” 
It wasn’t completely a lie. It had been two days since he’d seen Y/N, and she’d been filling every moment of unoccupied thought with the memory of her scent, the sight of her. She hadn’t appeared after that evening, which was fine. Perhaps she was making time for her feelings, and it wouldn’t have been right for him to question her on it.
“Rafayel. I was talking about Rafayel.” 
At that, he straightened, pressing his palms to the cool laminate table top. “Yes, absolutely. Go ahead.” 
Of course. When was the woman not talking about her nephew, who had been giving her hell by simply existing in a world that wasn’t made for him?
Despite listening to her for months, he held back from saying what he really wanted to tell her: "What if the path you're urging him to take isn't actually what's best for him?" He couldn't help but think that someone as devoted as Talia should know not to force their religion onto others. The words were sitting on his tongue, but the need to come out and say it wasn’t there. He had no intention of being unkind or causing any unnecessary pain, especially to an older woman who was only doing her best.
Father Sylus parted his lips, “He’ll figure it out eventually. Just give him some room.” 
But the woman shook her head, sighing deeply. “Well, the last time we gave him “room, “he ran off to Europe and—” her mouth pressed into a thin line, deep in thought and deliberation. She obviously held some amount of disappointment or perhaps empathy about her nephew's situation. Somehow, at that moment, Father Sylus imagined the poor woman feared the worst.
“At least Y/N knows what she wants out of life, right?” Talia asked. “Still young, but a good head on her shoulders. Rafayel should be more like her, dontcha think?” 
The corners of his mouth curved up, unable to help it. Y/N was rather amazing , wasn’t she? He took a sip of coffee and said nothing. 
“Something funny?” Talia leaned forward.
He made a non-committal motion with his hand. “Just
how aware you seem to be of my parishioners' lives.” 
“Yeah,” the woman chuckled, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Well, you know as well as anyone, or perhaps better, that nothing is a secret around this town. Besides, Y/N is one of the sweetest girls around; everyone’s always going on about her.” 
“Why do you say that?” He needed more input. As much information as he could get, his pulse spiked in anticipation. It was like being thirteen and asking a neighbor about the girl down the street. 
Talia frowned. “Aren’t you familiar with her?” His expression must’ve given him away as her eyes brightened, and she laughed. “You really aren’t much on the gossip.” 
Again, he had no retort. She wasn’t exactly wrong. 
“She’s just a lovely person,” Talia concluded. “Always generous, though stubborn as an ox sometimes. Headstrong. But a good, gentle girl. Devout? Well, not really. But generous and kind.” 
Just another affirmation.
“Anyway,” she shook her head, smiling as she checked her watch. “I actually should run, I forgot I’m having company over.” She adjusted in the plastic chair, putting the bottle of Tylenol back in the bag and hoisting it over her shoulder. 
“You know, Father, you should really see about getting the boiler in the church fixed before it gets colder out. Something is wrong with that thing, It never gets fully warm .” 
Father Sylus gave her a gentle smile as he stood, waving her off. “Bless you, Talia.” 
“Do you think a blessing makes my prediction not true? Just because I was cursed with a smart mouth doesn’t mean your holy presence can stop it.” 
He laughed again, a sound that felt too loud. Talia crossed her arms in return, gesturing with her chin out of the window they had been sitting next to. “You know,” she told him, “Xavier is pretty good at that. Fixing things.”
With furrowed brows, the priest looked out the window at the hardware across the street - the one Y/N now stepped out of. He squinted, feeling lightheaded at the sudden jolt of his heart. Immediately, images of her beneath him resurfaced. The feeling of her skin on his, the overwhelming surge of bliss, as vivid as a splash of sunlight. 
She was removing one of the signs from the door, replacing it with a new one, most likely advertising a sale. 
“That is a good idea,” Father Sylus murmured, words tumbling from his mouth on their own. Eyes remained fixated on her as if she might disappear if he looked away. 
“Thanks. I have them sometimes.” Talia’s voice said somewhere in the background. 
“Well,” he nearly sighed. “Have a great day, then.” His brain became fuzzy, and some odd internal pull brought him away from the table. Had him paying and grabbing his jacket on autopilot. He pushed back the door and stepped out into the afternoon, stepping off the curb and right in front of a car. Brakes squealing, it stopped only a few feet from him. The driver shot him a glare as he stepped back onto the sidewalk, both hands held up in apology. 
“Hey! You alright, Father?” Y/N called, watching with wide eyes from the entrance of the store. 
“Just fine!” He returned a bright, albeit shaky smile, and hurried across the street before he could cause any road-related casualties. 
Something bright rose in Y/Ns expression, like something from a terrible romance movie. All the anxiety and tension fled as she motioned him towards her, resting her weight against the brick wall near the door. The corners of her lips curled up, “It’s good to see you.” 
Father Sylus opened his mouth, but his brain was short-circuiting. The way she looked at him made him weak. Why now, of all times, did he notice his internal struggle? 
“Yeah,” his voice cracked. Clearing his throat and straightening his jacket, he tried again. “Good to see you too, Y/N.” He took a step closer and let his focus brush over her cheeks, down her neck, resting for a moment on those lips. The ones that had been flush against his own a few days before. Searing and consuming kisses and a passionate embrace that had left him a little mindless for a good half hour afterward. 
“Listen,” he started, still a little dumstruck and distracted. 
She looked up at him expectantly, then tilted her head slightly, raising a brow. It was quite possibly the cutest thing he’d ever witnessed and all he could focus on as he tried to find the strength to continue. 
“Y/N, uh
” 
The door to the shop opened, and Xavier stepped out, causing them to take a noticeable step back.  
“The boiler.” Father Sylus blurted like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He winced internally. “The boiler at the church needs to be looked at.” 
The young man looked over, crossing his arms. “Does it make a banging sound when it heats up?” 
“Uh...” the priest glanced at the girl briefly, eyes pleading and lips twisting into a sheepish smile. “Yes? I don’t know much about it, though. How would we go about fixing it?” 
“Depends on what’s causing the problem.” Xavier shrugged. He wasn’t purposefully being unhelpful; he was just probably not looking to explain any unnecessary details. 
A gust of wind caught Y/N’s attention, and she shivered as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Xavier can do it; he’s a genius at anything like that. Aren’t you, Xavier?” 
Xavier didn’t look that impressed at the praise. “Sure.” 
“It wouldn’t be hard, no more than a few hours,” she continued. “Right?” 
Xavier gave her a nod, “Maybe less. I can take a look before this weekend. Tell your dad I went home when he gets back, okay?” The young man nodded to each of them before disappearing down the sidewalk.
Y/N turned to face Father Sylus directly. She gazed up with a mixture of happiness and wariness. It seemed to him that she was nervous about something, maybe struggling to find the right words. 
“Thank you,” Father Sylus found the gratitude he had been searching for earlier. “Thank you for the other day. I wasn’t sure if I said it before
” 
At that, Y/N smiled the softest of grins. “My pleasure, Father.” Her hand reached out, palm brushing against the back of his hand, thumb stroking lightly. His breath hitched at the simple touch. Gravity was pulling them closer together, and he followed that urge by wrapping a hand around hers, squeezing. A quick and surreptitious move. Even the most casual touches were intoxicating, thickening his blood with longing. 
“So,” she breathed softly, voice low, “other than the boiler, you’re good? Feeling okay? No more ‘migraines’?” There was no hesitancy, though she did smirk when asking. It was as if she was seeking the feelings and sensations, not hiding from them as she once might’ve. Or maybe he was too transparent. Either way, the words managed to settle some of the deep-rooted tension he’d been building. 
He returned her question with an exhale. “No, everything’s okay.” His hand slipped free, and a funny thought ran through his brain that now wasn’t the best place to try and talk. Out here, in the open. He nodded, straightening. “And you?” 
“Me?” She blinked, taking a step closer. “I’m great.” 
“That’s - that’s great.” 
“That’s great.” Y/N agreed, sounding a bit breathless. Her hand reached up, hovering over his bicep, then pulling back as if she caught herself before doing something she ought not to out in the open. “Well,” she said, her gaze trailing down his chest, then quickly back to his eyes. “Hope you’ll let me pay you back someday.” 
There was an unspoken question as if somehow she wanted to test whether he would cross that line again or if she would, and what they were expected to do if that was their direction. How something like this could work long term, or at all, without the world getting involved.  
More than anything, he wished to know how to avoid her getting hurt, as she had to deal with that recently. For her, he’d do his best. He had never seen someone so delicate and yet had the innate ability to break him in the same instant. 
Father Sylus took a step back, his heart pounding. Words alone were not going to resolve this situation. At least, not yet. “I’ve got to get going.” 
“Do you?” 
“Yes. I’m sorry.” 
She looked at him, contemplating before tearing herself away. “Then, I’ll see you later.” She raised a hand, reaching for the door handle, then looked back at him while chewing her lip. After the longest minute, Father Sylus gave her a nod and moved, finally turning his back, glancing over his shoulder once. That heavy pull tugged in his chest, heat twisting in his gut, begging to be acknowledged. 
One minute at a time, that was the only way to do this. There would be no future as a priest with her, yet - they were bound by a strange connection now. By unexplained forces that made the situation unique, and a lot he still needed to work through. Work through what made this feel like 
prophecy, of all things.
“Father, wait.” 
He turned. 
Y/N pulled her cardigan tighter around her and let out a breath. Then she motioned to the store, looking at him. With a nod of understanding, he followed her inside. Not a word since it wasn’t needed.
Without warning or anything particularly romantic, she touched his shoulder, fingers stretching and trailing. Biting her lip as if fighting back a smile, she approached closer. His feet were nearly pressed against the toes of his shoes. She reached up, her fingers tracing along his jaw, eyes following the same path. Once, and then again, slowly, as if unable to break the wonder that she had. 
It was far too much and not enough. His hands grasped her hips, trying to memorize the way she leaned into him.  She raised her gaze back to his, chin tilted up. Her whole face lit up. 
It was easy to forget the world that stood beyond her. Easy to wish to drop the sense of duty and feel her warmth. But he would have to settle for her reaching up to kiss him. Soft. Chaste. A gentle and hesitant attempt, more or less. From her, that felt extraordinary. She was soft, and her movements were careful, trailing kisses along his jaw, leaving a fire trail in her wake. His nerves lit up like lightning, caught in the web she’d weaved. 
Pushing aside the momentary madness, he tilted his head to find her mouth waiting.
The second kiss was equally as breathtaking. Slower, but harder. A kiss that brought awareness, and she let out the softest moan. 
Father Sylus pulled back, looking at her with amusement. “Be careful,” he found himself saying. “I could get used to that.” 
Her eyebrow raised, and she smirked. “Then get used to it.”
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“Thanks again for driving me out to the mall.” You told Rafayel, sinking lower into the seat and fidgeting with your scarf you hadn’t forgotten that morning. With your phone somewhere out in the woods, your friend had offered to take you on the half-hour drive for a new one. Now, you two had arrived back in town just in time for the first real cold snap of the season to settle in. 
“Oh no, don’t thank me. I’d do almost anything to escape Aunt Talia and her preachy gossip hour.” 
You opened your mouth to respond, but the look he shot over at you as he parked along the main street told you not to bother. If there was one thing Rafayel was good at, it was bringing out the stubbornness in everyone. Being around him again made you realize he was still the most childish person you knew in a playful, endearing way. You pulled your new phone from your pocket as you exited the car, pulling your coat tighter around you. In the time that you were out, it had dropped a few degrees, and the biting cold set in.
Rafayel joined you on the sidewalk and opened the door of the coffee shop, holding it for you.
"What will you ever do if I'm not here to chauffeur you?" He asked, playfully bumping into you.
You returned the gesture, chuckling. "Walk."
"How dull ."
"Right? It'll be impossible to survive without you here saving me." You quipped.
"You're a doll for making sure that I still feel wanted."
His words made you remember something, and for a moment, you put your weight against the wall near the counter and simply studied his face. The man who had always been such a welcome presence, even as a teenager. His self-centered quirks almost faded when he smiled at you, replaced by a look you had difficulty placing. The look of someone who had a hard out in the world, and there was an unspoken understanding between you two that you hadn't fully acknowledged until that moment. You shifted a bit and tucked your hands into your pockets, opening your mouth to speak.
"Seriously, though, I know how difficult this must be for you. Moving back home, settling after your little...adventure."
Rafayel didn't respond immediately; instead, he focused on handing his credit card to the barista and ordering the drinks. He pulled out his phone, and the girl behind the counter handed you your orders. You thought maybe he wouldn't speak until he looked up at you.
"It has a lot of perks. Being so close to Talia is certainly not one of them, but it's as if I've gotten to start over. And this time, I want to do it right. I'm older now, and I can understand what kind of person I can be. More like you."
You stopped mid-sip and blinked. What did he mean, 'more like you'? What did he know about you? Licking the cream off your lips, you gave him a puzzled look.
"I'm going to stop being such a pompous ass." He said.
You laughed nervously, sputtering a bit and then clearing your throat as you set the drink down. "No offense, because you're pretty clever when you want to be, but please, for the love of - do not follow my example."
Rafayel snorted in response and rubbed at his jaw, "Who said anything about 'following your example'? Just thought it would be nice to be more mindful." He reached out to hold the door open for you again, a sign of your return to the outside.
Cold air spread through your jacket, and your heart flitted as a memory sparked.
Father Sylus gave you a little smile, dimples and all, and you fell. Backward, it seemed. There was a flicker in the vision. A dazed high that you knew would stay forever and ever in your core. That evening. The briefest moment of letting go, just for a bit, just to have the pleasure of feeling hands.
Of feeling more.
Pinpricks traveled from your neck, cascading through your chest. Glancing down at your phone, you collided with another form, someone solid who caught you by the elbows, pulling you upright. As your coffee cup flew to the ground and your phone nearly slipped from your hand, you looked up to give whoever it was who nearly caused your stumble a piece of your mind.
You were met by a pair of hazel eyes framed in silver-rimmed glasses and a look of intense surprise on his face.
It took a moment, too long, but as soon as it registered, you froze, the rest of the world shutting down.
"Zayne. Hi," your voice cracked.
He gawked, grip tightening a bit on your elbows, brow wrinkling before he released you.
"Y/N," the whisper of your name carried so many mixed emotions. His expression broke, revealing a look of shock before quickly fixing it, shifting back to one of control and neutrality. It was much too practiced and not enough to really fool you. "It's you."
Something deep resonated, and you inhaled sharply, taking a step back. There was no fucking way this was happening. No fucking way this day was going like this. No fucking way this man was standing in front of you. Your mind blanked, any clear idea darting around and disappearing in its wake. You suddenly wanted to cry, to scream, to puke all over his shoes.
"What are you doing here?" You heard yourself ask. An automated response.
You watched as Zayne cautiously glanced toward Rafayel, standing next to you with wide eyes, lips parted, and ready to fight. Zayne's hands rose slightly in defense, recognizing he'd set off a land mine.
"Y/N." His face fell, and again, a genuine relief. Sad. Guilty. Something. "You weren't answering my calls. I -" another glance toward your friend, and his lips pressed into a line. Zayne inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, eyes landing back on you. And suddenly, you were reminded of what drew you to him in the first place: those eyes. The kindness and the truth there. But now...
"What the fuck , Zayne." It was half whine and half plea.
Suddenly, Rafayel grabbed your arm, gently tugging you closer. His arm is locked around your shoulders, glaring glacial. "If it isn't the Prince of Parcheesi."
The 'Prince' straightened his posture. "Excuse me?"
You pointed an accusatory finger, "I asked you a question. What the hell are you doing here? "
You knew Zayne was a man of great patience, but even he couldn't have enough to deal with the two of you. "I was just wondering if I could...talk to you, Y/N."
"You flew across the country to talk to me?!"
"Drove, actually, and no." He flinched as the words left his lips and looked as if he hadn't thought through this plan until just then. A blush crept up his cheeks, and his hand adjusted the glasses perched on his nose. Was that cute or obnoxious? Either way, the sight was irritating and endearing, all in a nauseous mix. "Maybe."
You felt something weird, like a light pull, drawing a magnetism. It was easy to slip into what you felt for him , regardless of everything. It was always there. Mixed with disgust and anger.
"Well, you can't, so, uh, fuck off," Rafayel said.
Then there was the shame. Pure and unfiltered shame , along with a sort of helplessness that stuck and settled. The feeling resurfaced in the back of your throat. And with Zayne staring at you with that damned broken expression, sadness and hurt over losing something close. Your breath came out unintended. Eyes stinging. Why did he have to show up again now ? Hadn't you dealt with enough already? Weren't you due for a fucking break already?
"Alright," Zayne answered quietly. "That's okay, I understand, and I hope-"
"Hey, dumbass."
"Excuse me?"
Despite the emotional crisis, Rafayel stood as a pillar, and suddenly, despite the heaviness and suffocation that came with so much unwanted stimulation, he seemed to really be the key to holding it all together. Thank God for him. As much of an idiot and a wild child as he was, he managed to bring you back to the right here and the right now.
"Did I fucking stutter?"
Zayne was shocked to silence, blinking his hazel eyes, "Do I - do I know you ?"
"Exactly why, pray tell, is a self-important prick like you anywhere near our neck of the woods?"
"I'm getting divorced." Clearly, this was something Zayne wanted to tell you in private. You could tell by the way his voice practically faded out, and you went completely numb. It was like the phrase dropped into a stormy sea, drowning out into the water, getting pulled under and lost to the depth.
You imagined Rafayel had heard it based on his sharp exhale. Perhaps he even felt a little bad for his colorful choice of words. For a moment, you stayed rigid, your hand sliding down and grabbing hold of Rafayel's hand, which was tight and uncertain. Just to hold onto something, even if it felt silly.
"You don't owe him shit," Rafayel leaned and whispered. The reminder was appreciated, if needed, and loud enough for the other man to hear. This had nothing to do with you or what happened. Or maybe it did. Fuck. None of that mattered, did it? Because nothing could ever happen between you and him again. Whatever relationship there was could never, should never, would never. Even if the whole divorce was due to the hurt you'd caused.
God, you had done that.
There wasn't a way to focus anymore; your brain simply fizzled. Out and empty. Almost like the second, you knew Zayne was there, a huge barrier just came down, releasing every little ache and desire you still held onto for him. All the suppressed 'what ifs' and the hope of healing. And happiness.
Yet there was a heaviness, too, knowing he couldn't be yours because he was never free in the first place.
It had to sink, but you could feel a rage slowly taking over, along with a hollow agony that had haunted you.
"I can't breathe." You felt yourself take a staggered breath and another, pain catching in the back of your throat.
Without a second thought, you decided you had to leave. Quickly. As quickly as possible. That part, at least, was clear in the madness.
Zayne stepped closer, leaning forward in alarm and worry. "Y/N, I'm so sor -"
"Don't," was your only response. You sniffed, tears in the corner of your eyes. Rafayel was quick, giving the bespectacled fool the nastiest glare known to man as he wrapped his arm around you again and turned you toward the car.
"Y/N, will you please-" Of all the times for the doctor to be persistent.
"No."
"I can explain, I swear, I- please."
"Fuck off."
There was nothing else to say, however, because that second, you were confident that this was, in fact, your old hometown, and this was the man you'd let consume all your fantasies and wishes not that long ago. Your voice was loud enough to grab the attention of the others who dared to be on the sidewalk. Not that they bothered to do anything more than gawk.
Your hands shook, your heart pounding right out of your throat and chest as you got into the passenger seat. As soon as the door closed, Rafayel went around to the driver's side, the slam of the door jolting you.
"Damn," Rafayel muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror as he put the car in gear.
Tears were slipping down your cheeks, hot and sticky and just fucking uncomfortable. Disappointment did that, no matter how well-deserving the end result was.
"Fuck, fuck," you hissed, rubbing at your cheek to try and wipe the wetness away. It didn't work. The car started moving, and you gripped the handle above you, trying to straighten your back, trying to focus on literally anything to get your damn thoughts to come back together.
Rafayel didn't ask, make any guesses, or make any more offhanded comments. Once the speed increased and his grip on the steering wheel loosened, he focused on driving instead. But knowing how confused he was for you didn't take a psychic.
Inhaling sharply, you held it and then released, shuddering again. "I need a Xanax."
"Just try to keep it together a while longer, okay?"
"He just had to fucking show up like that and ruin it."
"I know."
"That's...what..." you stopped. Your mind is fuzzed; everything is going through, flashing at different speeds and scenes of your relationship. It was everything and nothing. Emptiness, followed by the familiar weight of regret. Pain. Worry. The fear you'd been dealing with for months, but the one thing that broke, sinking in finally after forcing it so far down, was the loss of the possibility. Zayne was married, and he was getting divorced, and all those missed phone calls might've been him trying to share that. Run back to you, just to have something. You'd always seen him as someone who could truly never belong to himself.
You couldn't find the energy to wipe away any more of your tears, so you left them to slowly dry against your jawline and into the lining of your scarf.
"He said he drove," you told Rafayel. "That means he's not leaving anytime soon, which means-"
"It's all going to suck."
After about ten minutes of quiet and blank, empty thought, the car moved slowly through the neighborhood. When it pulled into your driveway, it was a surprising relief.
"Will you be okay alone?" Rafayel asked.
"Probably not, but I want to be."
"Okay, well, your mopey mug has seen enough action for today. You're heading inside to take a little day nap, and when you wake up, you will feel better, and everything will look less confusing, yeah?" He reached into the back of the car, pulled out his messenger bag, and dug into it. You wiped one eye with your sleeve, cringing and taking a deep breath as you did the same with the other. Then there was a bottle of pills in his hand. "And take a fuckin' Xanax."
You held your hand out and looked down at the blue pill pressed into your palm. You didn't hesitate to pop it in, mouth dry and sticky as you managed to force it down without water. "God bless you, you crazy sonofabitch."
Rafayel shrugged, shaking the bottle before shoving it back in the bag, "Anything for my friend, Y/N."
"Mm." Somehow, a smile made it to your lips, your face a bit numb. You stared blankly at the center console for a moment before turning to Rafayel. His expression was determined, and his lips twisted, looking a touch less than steady. It took a few seconds for the message to click until you realized he meant it. He'd been honest.
You nodded, closing your eyes.
"Anything, Y/N. Call if you need me."
"I fucked Father Sylus." You blurted out, unable to bear the confusion. His eyebrows raised.
"What the actual fuck? Of all things, why would you say that ?"
"Because I think I really like him."
"Jesus Christ. You really did it, huh?"
Then you were all out bawling, and you thought that perhaps it was Lindsey who cursed Stevie in the first place.
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Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91
A/N: I found this tiktok the other day and it made me LOL and actually gave me the motivation to edit this chapter and post it. If you find any relatable tiktoks, please send them. I beg you.
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