#butterfly motif strikes again

[centaur-dreaming]

Has anyone done this yet

[dragonitepaw]

Hi! I love your super paper Mario AU, could you tell us more about it?

Waaaah Im glad you like it 🥹 i havent got too much on it as of right now but I have plans to develop it more once ive finished my uni project !!

as right now though here are some of the details/character roles:

Mario - Kirby Luigi - Bandee Bowser - Dedede Peach - either Tiff/Fumu (from the anime) or potentially Adeleine I haven't decided on that yet, originally i went straight for Fumu but i got a comment saying Adeleine would be a great fit too !! it all depends on whether i wanna include anime characters or not

Count Bleck - Meta Knight Tippi/Timpani - Galacta Knight (its their love story bc metagala forever 🫶) Nastasia - Sailor Dee O'chunks - Mace Knight Mimi - Javelin (the other meta-knights would be present too but have less of a role in the story as those 3)

Dimentio - Marx ^^^ originally i was gonna have vul as dimentio as i wanted all of count bleck's minions to be the meta-knights, but it also makes sense for the one non meta-knight character to be the one to betray them and marx just fits perfectly thematically >:)

as a little extra Merlon would be Morpho Knight which is my explanation for why Galacta Knight appears as a pixl butterfly, Morpho having the butterfly motif is my justification for the sense around galacta being their own butterfly that isnt just the morpho butterfly :)

okay now with characters done with,, the general narrative is the same destroying the world after galacta/tippi is "gone" but more fit around the ancients and heroes of yore lore being the driving point for meta and galacta meeting and forming a bond which then leads to the events of the game:

Meta's family (the tribe of darkness) were responsible for trying to end the world before using the dark prophecy (to make their own world and have the power to govern it) - meta being younger at this time had no say in what happened, Nightmare is the head of the family and the one who attempting to end the world (but thats not too important as nightmare plays no role in the main story anyways its just context).

The heroes of Yore (which includes Galacta as the hero of heart going off of my own personal hcs) were the ones to stop the family and strike some sort of deal that prevented them from using the dark prognosticus, saying if they were to try such a thing again then the heroes would be less merciful and banish the entire tribe away, knowing the heroes were more than powerful enough to live up to their threat the nightmare gave in, and the dark prognosticus was hidden away by the heroes to prevent the dark prophecy from being initiated once again.

Years down the line (much like in the original story) meta ends up getting injured and galacta comes across him, nursing him back to health. Meta didnt know about the heroes of yore and their threat to the family so wasnt aware of who galacta was, vice verca with galacta they werent aware meta was part of the tribe of darkness at the time. the two bond and eventually fall in love <3

Eventually nightmare finds out about and becomes enraged about his son and the enemy in such a relationship. He scolds meta and tells him not to go near Galacta again as the heroes 'ruined everything for them' and 'befriending them will only ever bring trouble to their family' in attempt to protect his son from them. however, meta doesn't listen as he's head over heels in love with Galacta at this point. In retaliation, Nightmare uses all of his magic to produce a strong spell to seal Galacta away in a crystal, in a far off dimension so Galacta and meta cannot meet again, as a way of protecting Meta and stopping any trouble from coming to their family.

Like in the original, Meta becomes devastated but enraged by the loss of Galacta, thinking they're dead and not seeing worth in a world without them. finding minions through the meta-knights and tracking down the dark prognosticus, Meta decides to bring about the dark prophecy and spawn the void, starting the beginning of the end.

Morpho comes across the crystal with galacta sealed within it. The amount of power needed to unseal them is a lot, and so Morpho not being powerful enough by themself, inwardly uses galactas life force alongside their own magical ability to unseal them, though this results in galacta becoming very weak and in order to save them, Morpho turns them into a pixl, and like tippi in the original story galacta loses all memory of who they were before being a pixl.

--

thats the main stuff i have for now which when looking over it,, is quite a bit 😅 there are still some aspects i need to adjust/change, the main one being the formation of the chaos heart bc if i have tiff/adeleine in peach's role i am not having them get forcefully married to king dedede 💀 for obvious reasons

^^ my initial thoughts are just having the chaos heart form from meta's pain and emotions, we will see i will be developing and thinking about it more once i have the free time :)

Thank you for the ask and I hope this was interesting to read :00

[barbielore]

Mattel has continued to launch Dia De Muertos Collectors Edition Barbies annually since 2019, but 2021 was the first year that there was a Ken in the line.

Barbie and Ken were separate releases, but with matching attire.

2022 expanded the collection still further; not only was there a matching Barbie and Ken still designed by the original designer of the line Javier Meabe, but also a Member's Only Barbie designed by Javier Meabe in collaboration with Mexican fashion designer Benito Santos.

Although Barbie and Ken for this release still have some cohesive design elements, they look a little less like a matched set; either can stand on their own.

Meanwhile, the Benito Santos collaboration Barbie has a strikingly different design, making heavy use of red, black and white

2023 again has three dolls in the collection - a matching Barbie and Ken, as well as a Members Only Barbie. This time the Members Only Barbie was designed in collaboration with Paola Wong from Pink Magnolia Mexico.

She is certainly one of the most striking dolls to have ever appeared in the range, in my completely inexpert opinion.

Barbie and Ken are also the most visually distinct they have ever been, with completely different colour schemes - though both are using monarch butterflies as a motif.

[noisycowboyglitter]

Personalize Your Style with Boho Butterfly Moon Phase T-Shirts

The Boho Butterfly Moon Phase design encapsulates the free-spirited essence of bohemian style while incorporating celestial and natural elements. This unique concept merges the transformative symbolism of butterflies with the mystical allure of lunar cycles, creating a visually striking and meaningful motif.

Buy now:19.95$

At the heart of this design, a series of moon phases arc across the composition, typically arranged in a crescent or circular pattern. These phases, from new moon to full moon and back again, represent the cyclical nature of life, growth, and transformation. Each phase is intricately detailed, showcasing the moon's shadows and craters.

Intertwined with the lunar sequence are delicate butterfly silhouettes. These butterflies, varying in size and position, appear to dance around and between the moons. Their presence symbolizes metamorphosis, beauty, and the fleeting nature of life – themes that resonate deeply with bohemian philosophy.

The overall aesthetic often embraces earthy, muted tones or contrasting black and white for a more dramatic effect. Intricate mandala-like patterns or celestial elements such as stars and constellations may be incorporated to enhance the boho feel.

Buy now

This design finds its way onto various mediums, including:

Tapestries and wall hangings

Tattoo designs

Jewelry (necklaces, earrings, rings)

Clothing prints

Home decor items (cushions, rugs, curtains)

Notebook covers and phone cases

The Boho Butterfly Moon Phase concept appeals to those drawn to spiritual symbolism, nature-inspired art, and eclectic, free-spirited designs. It serves as a beautiful reminder of life's constant evolution and the interconnectedness of all things in nature.

"Be Kind Moonchild Cottagecore Chic" encapsulates a whimsical lifestyle aesthetic that blends gentleness, celestial wonder, and rustic charm. This concept embraces the idea of kindness as a core value, combined with a dreamy, moon-inspired sensibility and the cozy, nature-focused elements of cottagecore.

Buy now

The style is characterized by soft, muted colors, floral patterns, and celestial motifs. Clothing might include flowing dresses, oversized sweaters, and delicate accessories adorned with moon phases or stars. Home decor features vintage-inspired pieces, handmade crafts, and natural elements like dried flowers and wooden accents.

This aesthetic celebrates simple living, sustainability, and a connection to nature. It encourages activities like gardening, baking, and stargazing. The "Be Kind" aspect emphasizes compassion towards others and the environment, creating a harmonious blend of style and values.

Butterfly memorial gifts offer a meaningful way to honor and remember loved ones who have passed. These thoughtful presents symbolize transformation, hope, and the enduring beauty of life. Options include personalized butterfly-shaped garden stones, delicate wind chimes, or custom photo frames adorned with butterfly

Buy now

motifs. Memorial jewelry, such as butterfly-shaped lockets or pendants containing ashes, provides a personal keepsake. Butterfly-themed sympathy cards, memorial candles, or plantable wildflower seeds also make touching tributes. These gifts offer comfort and a lasting reminder of cherished memories.

[besttropeveershowdown]

Since the bracket screenshots are very hard to read, here's a list of all the matchups for round 1!

Side A

Found Family vs. Soulmates

Foil vs. Mirror Character

Decon-Recon Switch vs. Our Trolls Are Different

Rousseau Was Right vs. Historical Badass Upgrade

Science Is Good vs. The Artful Dodger

I Owe You My Life vs. Bait-and-Switch Tyrant

Badass Pacifist vs. Battle in the Center of the Mind

Gambit Pileup vs. Buffy Speak

You Did Everything You Could vs. The Team

Moral Dilemma vs. "Not So Different" Remark

But They Stayed In the Car vs. Self-Sacrifice Scheme

Starfish Aliens vs. Outlaw Couple

Dream Sequence vs. Silly Rabbit, Cynicism is for Losers!

Drunk Hookup-> Hilarious Morning After vs. Have I Mentioned I Am Heterosexual Today?

Storyboarding the Apocalypse vs. Break The Cutie

Murdered Cousin vs. In Medias Res

Fire-Forged Friends vs. First Contact

Time Travel vs. Self-Inflicted Hell

Ragtag Bunch of Misfits vs. Your Days Are Numbered

Time Loop vs. Unreliable Narrator

Friends to Lovers vs. Everyone Is Bi

Important Haircut vs. Came Back Wrong

The Anti-Nihilist vs. Mono No Aware

Shadow Archetype vs. Hurt/Comfort or Whump

Knight of Cerebus vs. Prophetical Semantics

True Companions vs. The Trickster

Locked in a Room vs. Magnificent Bastard

Beethoven Was an Alien Spy vs. Genre Savvy

Evil Twin vs. Minor Injury Overreaction

Grey-and-Gray Morality vs. Body Swap

Enemies to Lovers vs. Accidental Parental Figure

From Zero to Hero vs. Horny Scientist

Side B

Berserk Button vs. Caper Crew

Flock of Wolves vs. Team Pet

Five Man Band vs. Disguised as Male

Shapeshifting Trickster vs. Anthropomorphic Personification

Dramatic Irony vs. You Can't Go Home Again

Subverted Kids' Show vs. Badass Bookworm

Crouching Moron, Hidden Badass vs. Isekai/Genre Refugee

Wham Shot vs. Unseen Evil

Little Miss Con Artist vs. Punch-Clock Villain

Mama Bear vs. Internal Reveal

Sleight of Tongue vs. Enemy Mine

Guile Hero vs. Tsundere

Memory Gambit vs. Recursive Crossdressing

Disguised Horror Story vs. Wham Line

Secret Identity vs. Terror Hero

Students' Secret Society vs. Mugged for Disguise

Road Trip Plot vs. Fantastic Fauna Counterpart

Opposites Attract vs. Amnesia

Heel-Face Turn vs. Rewriting Reality

Bavarian Fire Drill vs. Butterfly Effect

Morality Pet vs. Cloning Blues

Tragic Villain vs. Clipboard of Authority

The Con vs. Battle Couple

Beware the Nice Ones vs. Animal Motif

Hitman with a Heart vs. Big Damn Heroes

Friends to Enemies vs. Hurricane of Puns

Affably Evil vs. My God, What Have I Done

Swamp Monster vs. Chekhov's Gunman

Fake Dating vs. Gentle Giant

Stupid Sexy Flanders vs. Non-Human Head

Sea Serpents vs. Furry Reminder

Children's Covert Coterie vs. The Creon

Side C

Arrested for Heroism vs. The Dragon

Unreliable Expositor vs. Well-Intentioned Extremist

Friends to Enemies to Lovers vs. Undying Loyalty

Precision F-Strike vs. Powerful, Fucked-Up Family

Pragmatic Villainy vs. Big, Screwed-Up Family

Ape Shall Never Kill Ape vs. Tragic Bromance

Just You and Me and my GUARDS vs. Tomato in the Mirror

Lovable Rogue vs. Refusal of the Call

Second Law My Ass vs. Batman Gambit

Not Quite Dead vs. Sapient House

Call A Human a Meatbag vs. Faux Affably Evil

Nice Job Fixing It Villain vs. Conversation of Ninjutsu

Beach Episode vs. The Gadfly

Beware the Silly Ones vs. Jedi Mind Trick

You Are Better Than You Think You Are vs. Superpowered Evil Side

Murder Is The Best Solution vs. Comedic Sociopathy

The Power of Language vs. The Power of Friendship

Face Death With Dignity vs. Prolonged Pining

Too Dumb to Live vs. Central Theme

Suspiciously Specific Denial vs. Deadpan Snarker

Blessed with Suck vs. Setting as a Character

Cast Full of Gay vs. Heel-Face Revolving Door

Aliens Speaking English vs. Stumbling Upon the Lost Wizard

For the Evulz vs. Spare to the Throne

My Powers are Gone vs. Reformed But Not Tamed

King and Lionheart vs. Marriage of Convenience

Even Evil Has Standards vs. Then Let Me Be Evil

Delirious Misidentification vs. Big Beautiful Man

Playing Nice for Now vs. Teeth-Clenched Teamwork

Intimate Haircut vs. Arranged Marriage

Dating Catwoman vs. Incurable Cough of Death

Ambiguous Gender vs. Kill the Gods

Brackets for BTES

Brackets are out, everyone! (that was quicker than expected)

We have 192 submissions, so the plan is to have 3 sides of 64 tropes each, the champions of which will make up the final three! Polls for side A will be released sometime this weekend, with side B and side C coming shortly after.

Side A:

Side B:

Side C:

[luminecho]

I was gonna say 3 and 20 for lucina so if you don’t mind answering the same questions again for a different character ? 👀 oh! And 11 and 16 maybe? :0

I know you haven’t played her game so I tried to go for more general ones ehe <3

YESSSSS I DONT MIND AT ALLLLLL. ESPECIALLY question 3 I'll answer question 3 for literally every single character please ask me about music choices for characters always at all times

3. A song that reminds me of them

I haven't yet found The One song for her yet,,, with certain characters I'll eventually just find a song that I put at the very top of their playlist because it feels like their anthem, their identity. I haven't really found any that FULLY encompass Lucina yet so you get a few ones that I feel like match <3

Pompeii by Bastille. Obligatory world-ending catastrophe song, surprising to no one probably, but like... come on. Do I even need to say anything else. Pompeii. ough.

Heirloom by Sleeping At Last. okay this is like,,,, a song to any of the future kids from their parents actually, but it fits her of course. It's basically the point of view of this parent singing to their child about the burden of their heritage and how they shouldn't let that define them. It references wars and fights a lot. "You are so much more than the wars you've won."

You pressed rewind For the thousandth time When the tapes wore through So you memorized Those unscripted lines Desperate for some kind of clue: When the scale tipped When you inherited A fight that you were born to lose It’s not your fault No, it’s not your fault I put this heavy heart in you

yeah....... yeah. yeah. yeah.

Bright & Early by Sleeping At Last. This song is, in the more literal sense, about someone who lost their home to a fire. Generally, it's about loss, and how unfair it feels that difficult things have to happen to us ("But why couldn't I have been safe from the start?"), and how things that used to be comforting are now only reminders of what we've lost.

Like sparks in matches Blink, you'll miss it The future's up in smoke Though dust has settled I still smell the ashes Buried in my clothes

It's..... houououogh.

11. What’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character?

Aside from the obligatory butterfly motif? Blue fire. I can't even elaborate. I probably don't need to. Just... blue fire.

16. A childhood headcanon

Kind of the opposite of a troublemaker in the traditional sense? Could not imagine breaking the rules and rarely ever got in trouble. Not in the goody-two-shoes sense but more in the "rules are good and I like following them. Acting out sounds stressful" sort of way. Probably still always found a way to get underfoot though, tailing her father around at all times

20. A weird headcanon

Another childhood one but she strikes me as the kind of kid to wish on yellow ladybugs. Idk why

(Send me a character and a number/several numbers and I'll answer)

[multifandomterrors]

The Orpheum Theory

This little essay is inspired by my own post and the additions made by sunsetnerve and norakeinwitz. Thanks for your additions to my little theory I loved reading them.

Now, I understand that at the end of the day, this is a kids show. It’s made for kids. However, the demographic didn’t really end up what they thought it was going to be. So this is just a theory I came up with because I think like a college student, so I analyze like a college student. At the end of the day, it’s a theory. Could be a reach for a kids show, but it’s a thematically sound theory when analyzed like a regular piece of art.

Julie and the Phantoms is full of hidden symbolism and many different motifs. The motif we will be discussing today is: The Orpheum Theater.

As we know, the Orpheum is a huge component of the show and the big climax revolves around the Phantoms being able to play “the show they never got to play.” At first glance, it’s just a theater where musicians play. Well, your friendly neighborhood creative writing major is here to show you otherwise.

First, let’s talk about motifs and symbols for those who are unaware of the difference.

Symbols - signify an idea or emotion e.g. red stands for blood

Motifs - a recurring element or idea that repeats throughout a piece of work e.g. stairs in Bong Joon Ho’s Parasite.

A motif is a symbol, but a symbol is not necessarily a motif.

The biggest motif present in JATP is the use of butterflies but that’s a different discussion for a different post.

Another motif that may go unnoticed is the Orpheum Theater.

This venue is mentioned multiple times throughout the season and is the climax of the show. Let’s talk symbolism.

If it were any other theater, I would’ve just went “Nah they just want to play the show of course, it’s their dream.” However, what stuck with me was how the Orpheum is presented in JATP. (It looks nothing like the actual Orpheum Theater in LA by the way).

The theater is tiny. It looks like it could have a capacity of 50 people. 75 if we’re being generous. This begs the question, why this Orpheum? Why not the Roxy? The Dolby Theater? The Greek? Why specifically this tiny venue? Why not aim for a larger theater?

Next, we have to look at its name. Orpheum. Does it look familiar?

Orpheum means “House of Orpheus.” As in the Orpheus of Orpheus and Eurydice. For those of you who are not into Greek mythology and stories or if you just haven’t heard of the musical, Hadestown, let me give you a (very) brief rundown of the story.

Orpheus is a musician who is in love with Eurydice. Eurydice dies a tragic death and finds her way to the Underworld to be with Hades, god of the dead. Orpheus, understandably, is heartbroken by this. So he finds a way to travel to find Eurydice and Hades. He strikes a deal with Hades. If he could lead Eurydice out of the Underworld, she’ll live again. The catch? Orpheus cannot turn around. He just has to trust that she’s following him. In the end, Orpheus doubts himself at the last second (like literally “maybe a few feet away from the exit” last second) and turns around. Eurydice was actually following him the whole time, but he failed. She stays dead.

Now let’s discuss parallels.

Julie = Orpheus

talented musician

in love with a person who died tragically

desperate to save them

Luke = Eurydice

dead

trapped by a person who controls the dead

Caleb = Hades

controls the dead

Caleb owns the souls of the people in the Hollywood Ghost Club

Hades is the god of the dead

therefore, Hollywood Ghost Club = Underworld

Now this is where I explain how this parallel and motif play into the show with my own original theory and the modified theories due to the additions of sunsetnerve and norakeinwitz. Again, thanks for reblogging with them!

Theory 1

We’re aware of the parallels. We’re aware of the original story and how season 1 played out. Originally, I felt as if this motif would play out further into the show. I felt as if this were the foundation of a bigger fight between JATP and Caleb. Eventually, Julie would have to try and save Luke from the HGC and Caleb and ultimately fail (because I love angst but I will throw in some “kids show” magic and say that Luke is fine in the end). But let’s go with a happier ending.

Theory 2

This was brought to my attention by sunsetnerve. In her reblog, the Orpheum theory made its run through the first season only. This also makes sense, taking into account the scene with You Got Nothing to Lose. This is when Caleb takes hold of Luke and the other Phantoms. Julie brings them back (somehow) for Stand Tall. Here is where JATP will diverge from the original Greek story. Orpheus fails. Julie succeeds. If you’re an Harry Potter fan, think of it like that old Tumblr post that describes how Harry and his friends were parallels of James and his friends, only they were better and they learned from the past. Julie is Orpheus, the difference is that she knows better. Now we introduce the lyrical genius of the songwriters.

Let’s take another look at the Orpheus and Eurydice summary. In order to save Eurydice, Orpheus cannot turn around.

With that in mind, let’s take a look at the lyrics to Stand Tall.

“Cause everything is rushing in fast

Keep on going, never look back.”

Julie sings a line about not turning around. Once again, Julie is Orpheus, she just knows better.

She thinks she can help free them from Caleb. Julie already thinks that she’s lost the Phantoms. Orpheus thinks he can help free Eurydice from Hades. He refuses to believe he’s lost her. Julie is at peace, Orpheus is not.

Julie performs at the Orpheum even though she thinks it’s too late. She doesn’t hesitate. And when she was tested and she doubted, she did not let it overtake her. Orpheus was tested and he was consumed by the paranoia.

Julie kept going. She didn’t turn around.

Orpheus stopped. He turned around.

The result? Julie saves the Phantoms from Caleb. Orpheus loses Eurydice to Hades.

Julie wins.

Theory 3

This was presented to me by norakeinwitz who noticed the Orpheus connection too. They added on to both mine and sunsetnerve’s points. Except they played more towards the idea that despite the fact Julie knows better, Julie is still Orpheus. She can’t help it.

Julie performs. She doesn’t stop. She erases her doubt. The Phantoms perform at the Orpheum.

Julie doesn’t turn around then. She turns around later.

At the end of the day, Julie is still Orpheus.

She goes back to the studio anyway. She turns around to look at them one more time.

Now here are my thoughts about this.

Julie turns around, but not for the same reasons as Orpheus.

Orpheus let doubt into his mind. All he had to do was trust that Eurydice was following him. He was tested, he panicked, he looked back. He turned around before the tunnel ended because he was afraid that she was gone.

Julie erased her doubt. She didn’t let it in. She pressed forward even with the idea that she’s never seeing them again. She was tested, she panicked, she didn’t look back…yet. She looked back after she left the Orpheum and went straight to the studio instead of going straight to bed. She turned around after the tunnel ended because she made peace with the fact that they were gone.

Orpheus turned around because he was clinging to fear. Julie turned around because she let go of fear.

She made peace with death. As a result, she saved the Phantoms.

Orpheus was angered by death. As a result, he lost Eurydice.

Julie is Orpheus, but Orpheus is not Julie.

They follow the same path, but Julie made it to the end.

[boom-fanfic-a-latta]

Ideas for Amazon Letters' videos

Post Darkblade

-A video theorizing about Goggalor's Miraculous and what animal it could be (Theories include a beetle or a bluebird, or some animal featuring goggle-like markings. Raccoons are mentioned at least once)

-Something about the Love Square.

Post Caretaker

- Theories about Raz using "Aquato" as his hero name. I'm thinking that Caretaker might not reveal the "Raz is adopted" thing, so most of them are pretty lighthearted, from being the name of a cat he may of owned, to being named after a True Psychic Tales character (TPTWriter does actually incorporate this idea into her works, with an Agent Lane "Black Cat" Aquato with a cat motif. She jokingly gives them a fear of water in reference to this, which becomes darkly funny after we learn about Raz's hydrophobia)

-A video analyzing Leia Dartagan and her Akuma The Caretaker. There is a running gag about how creepy she is, with Alan occasionally being startled by a little jpeg cutout of her that pops out of nowhere with a little sting chord. It also looks into what history we get about Leia at this point, which may-or-may-not include a little bit of the Orphanage Fire.

-"Goggalor is Raz?" theory, with a brief joke about how if he is Goggalor, he at least has a consistent theme of having a very random hero names, with Aquato appearing from the side of the screen.

Post Tiffany Wrecker

-Tiffany Wrecker analysis. There are a few theories as to why he hates Fake Tiffany Lamps, but to teaching Raz how to shoot in the past, Alan chalks it up to the Dartagans being from AMERICA!!! F*** YEAH!!!

Sometime before Aquanaut

-"Goggalor's EVIL???" and "Goggalor's a FAKE???" videos. The prior is very short, and it's made clear that Alan doesn't believe it

- "What even is Archie Dartagan?", a video about Archie and everything relating to him, with a running gag of Alan just saying "why?" at random things related to Archie, getting louder every time until he's shouting at the top of his lungs.

Post Syren

- A video theorizing on the new Akuma, we know their name is Aquanaut, so maybe a scuba diver? "I bet it's Raz. He hasn't showed up the entire episode. I mean, he's far from the only one, but it's his turn, right?" /j (There's a comment later on about how he called it)

-Syren Analysis

Post Aquanaut

-The Deluge of Grulovia video. This was originally meant for later, but was worked on/released early for obvious reasons (There were a few hints at it in previous episodes)

-Aquanaut analysis. There is a callback to the Archie Dartagan video, where he pauses for a few seconds and just yells "WhY?!?" in response to Akuma!Archie (Puddle? Water Boy? Hydrohelper? Big Scary Butterfly-Pants? Maybe Floodgate if we want something a little more serious) and his ability to transform into a giant butterfly.

I have more ideas, but I'll leave it for now.

—Anonymous Submission

My Comments:

Yes. All the yes. So much yes that I’m tempted to write scripts for these video ideas and get a friend to record as Alan and literally make these real videos.

Seriously, I love these so much.

Now to each of these a title cause why not (and some comments):

- “Examining Goggalor: What’s His Miraculous?” He never did tell them which Miraculous he had XD. A lot of theories to talk about, definitely. Also, when going over the Raccoon theory, I feel there’d be a mention of his weapon looking a lot like Sly Cooper’s cane.

- “Trying to Explain the Miraculous Love Square” This is gonna be one of those videos that keeps getting new parts released with every season, I can feel it.

- “The Meaning Behind Aquato?” TPTWriter strikes again XD. Also, wondering if you using “Lane” was a nod to my Psychonauts ‘sona Mint Lane, cause if not, funny coincidence.

- “Creepy Doll: Analyzing The Caretaker” I feel like the fire would be at the very least alluded to, yes. And yes, silly jumpscares XD

- “Examining Goggalor: Is He Raz?” One of the points for the theory potentially being true has to be “they both wear goggles”

- “Knockoff Lamps: Analyzing Tiffany Wrecker” Some of the lamp theories are “someone died because of a knockoff lamp” levels of insanity

- “Examining Goggalor: The Villain Theory!” Could totally be an April Fools video where it’s just clips of Goggalor but with an evil goatee edited on

- “Examining Goggalor: Is He a Fraud?” Honestly I hadn’t even considered this idea, but it makes sense! Some fans being suspicious that Goggalor might not actually have a Miraculous…

- “What the Heck Even Is Archie?” Comedy Gold right here. “HE’S MADE OF PAPER HOW THE HECK CAN I EXPLAIN THAT?!”

- “Mermaid and Surprise: Analyzing Syren” There’s probably an analysis video for every episode tbh but I can tell we’re sticking with the major ones for now. Also, imagine if there was a small missable background detail near the start of the episode where Raz is in the background at the pool…

- “Who is Aquanaut?” Alan gives a pretty good argument for it being Raz and lo and behold he’s right

- “Everything We Know About The Deluge Of Grulovia” Including all the other random things we’ve heard about Grulovia as well

- “Raz Confirmed: Analyzing Aquanaut” This would have such a high view count, admit it. Also Alan starts off by happily yelling “I WAS RIGHT IT WAS RAZ”

I can’t wait to see what other ideas you have! This was so much fun to read!

[isfjmel-phleg]

Thoughts on Tenthragon, Chapters 17-19

@valiantarcher finally, the last of the commentary! Thanks for your patience with this.

Chapter Seventeen

“[Mary] had gripped his arms with fingers of iron [...]” In light of the chapter title, “Under the Ring,” this metaphor is chilling.

The blue butterfly that flutters in Paddy’s face when Mary has caught is a striking bit of imagery (the blue motif again!) whose precise significance I need to give more thought to.

Paddy seems to be experiencing some kind of anxiety attack in the aftermath of being caught.

“[Hugh] had turned very pale, and one might almost have thought that he shared Paddy’s fear.” Which is indeed the case!

There have been anger and violence and excuses before at the prospect of being caught, but now that it’s happened, Hugh is unusually nonemotional and resigned and insists that Paddy put the entire blame on him (even puts it in writing). A major step in character development.

However, when he describes Nemesis, who “followed you when you had done wrong,” he concludes, “But she got you at last, Paddy. She got you at last” (emphasis added). Of course it’s not Paddy who has been in the wrong here, but Hugh is trying to distance himself from the realization that his revenge has come back to hurt him.

“Are you going to forgive me? Or are you like Bren--a flint?” Does Hugh expect Paddy’s forgiveness? Or is there a sense of hopelessness here?

“Once, long ago, Paddy had thought that Hugh had a dragon shape with the face of a fairy prince. He remembered this thought unexpectedly as he lay looking up at his tyrant. All the dragon-wrath had disappeared from Hugh’s manner, and the face of the fairy prince was very white. The dark blue eyes wore the strangest look of pain and shrinking--was Hugh ill?” Paddy has been seeing Hugh’s humanity from the beginning, but now he’s getting a glimpse of just what a shattered person is behind the dragon persona.

In his fear and shame, Paddy retreats to the schoolroom to hide from Brendon and sits under the ring, the symbol of his father’s cruelty, the real source of the fear of anger and punishment that is consuming him. There’s almost a sense of events coming full circle (...unfortunate phrasing but you get the idea).

The ring is a place to plead for mercy, and Paddy prays, “Oh, please, God, save me!” And immediately afterward, Brendon is there--exactly the person whom Paddy needs to see.

When Paddy brings up his fear of his thumb’s being cut off, Brendon’s automatic response is to angrily demand who told him that. But he picks up on Paddy’s fear and adjusts his tone to something gentler when he asks the question again. He’s learning how to better communicate with the child, which will make all the difference in this conversation.

There’s such catharsis of admitting the truth and his fears to Brendon, and once he’s fully open and honest and trusting, he learns the truth of his situation and can believe the truth that’s been in front of him the whole time: he is loved.

“‘[...] Did you love me all the whole time, then?--when I pretended to be deaf and when I told you stories and when you thought I stole money?’ / ‘All the time,’ Brendon answered gravely. ‘I’m sorry it didn’t show.’ / Dimly Paddy guessed at the sharp disappointment and regret that did not show either. Two thin arms half throttled Brendon in an attempt at consolation. / ‘Insidest of all, Bren,’ he said, ‘insidest of all, I think I knew.’” That last line hits hard. And note that even with all of his own hurt, Paddy’s response to Brendon’s apology is to hug and try to comfort him. He has such a strong capacity for empathy, and now he’s really seeing Brendon at heart.

The silver key being lost becomes a plot point in the original ending (Paddy finds it again and uses it to get back into Other Thragoness), but in this version, we never learn what becomes of the key.

“There is no message.” There’s a horrifying finality in that line. We are finally seeing a truly angry Brendon, and his anger manifests not as flaming verbal abuse and violence but as a cold, calm, cutting off of contact.

Chapter Eighteen

“But you need not trouble yourself about him, for whether he is forgiven or not you will not see him again.” This of course does not turn out to be the case, but apparently Brendon has decided (not without good reason) that even if Hugh rights his wrong, he is not to be trusted around Paddy again.

“Try to forgive him, for he has suffered a great deal; all his life he has been terribly unhappy, and often he is so ill in mind and body that he cannot be held accountable for what he does.” The specific mention of “ill in mind” is interesting. I’ll come back to this.

“You must blame me, Patric, not poor Hugh--it is my fault that you believed such a dreadful thing about me.” Yes and no. Brendon has no way of knowing that Paddy’s fear ultimately stems from a conflation of him with Quentin, and even Paddy hasn’t figured it out yet: “His belief in Brendon’s dual nature was so vague and unformulated that he could not have expressed it in words, even had he tried to give any subtle reason for his fears.”

“I wish you could come with me, Other Children, especially--especially the youngest of you.” This is (I think) the last time Paddy resorts to the Other Children as a coping mechanism; it’s less necessary now that his connection with Brendon is restored. But it still reflects his circumstances even if things have shifted; “the youngest one” is no longer a bad influence but someone Paddy misses.

“Home felt odd and unfamiliar, so odd indeed that he wondered not for the first time whether he had slept an enchanted sleep for months, and had dreamed the whole story of the dragon.” Further development of the theme of the dream/nightmare-like quality that Paddy’s life takes on. There’s been so much uncertainty and gaslighting that he is constantly questioning his perception of reality, even after he’s in a safe position.

Meadowsweet is gone, and “Paddy did not know what to make of that.” I would conclude that Brendon is actively turning his back on the familiar but harsh discipline methods of his childhood.

“Perhaps after all it was one of his old imaginings--perhaps there had never been a schoolroom? So many things had disappeared lately--the fairy palace, the imp-chest, the dragon, Meadowsweet--that it was really only to be expected that the ring-room should vanish also. He felt glad that it had fled.” The implication is that Brendon has had the schoolroom sealed off, as if to symbolically close the door on that dark chapter of family history and prevent the cycle from repeating. This is clearly a good choice, especially since it’s a relief to Paddy. But the staff’s treatment of the room as if it never existed and Paddy’s assumption that he shouldn’t ask perhaps wasn’t the best method. It’s more in the spirit of the mind games that have tormented him rather than the forthrightness that he and Brendon are working toward. Even a simple explanation like “we’ve closed off that room because it has unpleasant associations and we don’t need to worry about it anymore” would have sufficed. 

“All you ought to know is this--that’s it’s a Christlike thing to show mercy to them that have harmed you, but poor Mr Hugh wasn’t taught that lesson of mercy when he was a child. All his life he has been trying to revenge himself on them that hurt him, and a sore trouble he has brought on every one. There’s human revenge, and there’s God’s right vengeance; and when you take it into your own hands to revenge your wrongs, why, you do but make memories burning in your heart for ever, and you leave no room for the vengeance of God--no room for the vengeance of God.” (I don’t have anything to add, but this sums up the theme and needed to be quoted.)

“The man was gazing at it [Other Thragoness] intently, but the woman looked down at the blowing grass beneath her feet.” Quentin faces the home of the man he has abused boldly, without remorse, almost as if he’s ready to return for more torment. Beryl, on the other hand, can’t bring herself to look at the house, as if she’s being confronted with her brother’s accusatory face.

Quentin and Beryl resemble Brendon and Hugh respectively. I’ve already addressed what effect the former connection has had on Paddy, but Beryl’s resemblance to Hugh might have had something to do with Paddy’s tendency to concentrate on Hugh’s face, and now it manifests as his mentally designating her “the dragon-lady” and initially distrusting her.

“Yes, I told you to obey Brendon, but his commands must never conflict with mine. You obeyed me when you were a little child; you will obey me now.” This is the key to Paddy’s behavior throughout, the never-really-forgotten memory of a harsh and controlling father--who apparently had no qualms about terrifying a three-year-old into such subjection that the fear lingers long after the exact memories have faded.

“He was a sulky, dogged little dwarf with a demon-temper, a malformed imp who ought to have been put out of existence.” Quentin’s use of dehumanizing language for Hugh is particularly cruel (especially because of his role in bringing about Hugh’s disabilities) and reveals a lot about him and how he could do the terrible things he did.

“He is ill now--dying, let us hope. You are being well avenged.” / The air about Paddy felt cold and damp, and he was suddenly afraid of these people who were waiting for Hugh to die. They had sprung into life like giant fungi; they were evil growths of Thragonwell.” Quentin’s choice of word, “avenged,” ties back to the theme of vengeance, which seems to have driven Quentin (tormenting the children who displaced him as inheritor, waiting for the man who deprived him of his son to die) as much as it has Hugh. Paddy, meanwhile, is repulsed by this.

“The dragon-lady clasped him to her in an embrace so close and loving that his distrust of her died quickly. In truth, he found the passionate caress alarming in its intensity--it seemed as if the dragon-lady would never set him free. But at a glance from the stranger her clinging hands dropped back.” Paddy seems to be equating Beryl’s passionate embrace with treatment he has received from Hugh--i.e. imprisonment of a sort. But her response to Quentin’s glance hints that she’s as much a victim of his abuse as anyone else in the family.

“I believe that man is really the other Brendon that I used to imagine to myself when I was young,” said Paddy inwardly. “He likes me, but he is unkind--he is waiting for Hugh to die. I wish that the pretty lady had been alone by herself. She isn’t unkind--she is sorry and afraid.” Perceptive and correct! Beryl represents another kind of response to abuse than those of her brothers: compliance for survival.

Chapter Nineteen

This is the one time since the opening chapter that we get the POV of someone besides Paddy. Although the narrative itself remains strictly limited to Paddy in terms of access to thoughts, we get to read the letter along with Brendon. It is important for us, the presumably adult audience, to have this significant contextualizing information, but since Paddy cannot access it due to his age and closeness to the information, the POV has to shift a little.

In Forbidden Doors, the letter is significantly different; for one thing, it’s told in first person like an ordinary letter. Savery changes it for the revision, which I think is an effective choice. Here, Hugh tells his story in third person, as if to distance himself from it, and to further the sense of storytelling that has pervaded the narrative.

As determined as Hugh claims to be to maintain his grudge against Beryl, the information he provides puts her in quite a pitiable light. He compares her character to Paddy’s (which adds an interesting layer to his interactions with Paddy) and reveals that she was forced into her marriage by her father despite “her resistance.” She then goes from her father’s abuse to Quentin’s. Unlike her brothers, she has never been able to escape that controlling influence, and living like that constantly has no doubt taken a toll.

“Hugh still dreams of that capture, but it is not pleasant to write about; he cannot make it into an interesting story for you.” Earlier, shortly after Hugh writes this, Paddy unwittingly tells that story to him.

“Rumors of the shameful story were beginning to creep over the estate, and Brendon threatened that unless the tutor obeyed him, the story should set the countryside in a flame and that every man, woman, and child within miles should be summoned to enforce the command. They would have done it, too; there wasn’t a soul to fight for him except Old Sarah!” It sounds like the threat here is not legal action (although by rights Quentin should be in prison for child abuse) but the wrath of the locals who would come to the brothers’ aid.

Brendon and Hugh basically lived on their own between the ages of fifteen and eleven to eighteen and fourteen!

The blackmail material with evidence of Quentin’s embezzling--was the child abuse not enough to make a case against him? I don’t know enough about the laws at this time to be sure.

“[...] some one who had his own private and very bitter grudge against the tutor, a clever man whose name you need not know.” Who was this? He remained “unseen,” and there don’t seem to be any other clues in either version of the text about who it could be. I’m not sure if this is an oversight on Savery’s part or a creative choice.

Hugh’s calling himself “mad” and other remarks throughout (like the “ill of mind” quote above) suggest that Savery might have intended him to be read as having some sort of mental illness. Savery’s biographer Eric Schonblom has theorized that Hugh has bipolar disorder, which is a reasonable proposition in light of his varying moods. But from what I can gather, the manic and depressive episodes of someone with bipolar disorder tend to be prolonged, lasting days, weeks, sometimes months. I don’t see this pattern in Hugh’s mood swings, which are more rapid. If I had to guess a diagnosis for him, I would lean toward borderline personality disorder, the criteria for which can be found here.

“There was nothing in those pages that I wish you to know.” Of course the information in the letter is not only too much for someone Paddy’s age to handle emotionally but also told with extreme bias. Does Paddy have the right to know any of this background as he gets older? I would think so, but presumably Brendon himself would intend to give him a less bitter account.

The letter was sent in drug-hazed confusion by Hugh himself, as opposed to the original ending where he mistakenly gives it to someone to mail for him. The change is more effective, eliminating the question of why the third-party didn’t intervene and giving Hugh more agency.

“You came all that way?” said Paddy. “But don’t you stay in bed when you are ill?” / “Not when Brendon isn’t there to make me,” the dragon answered. “I hate staying in one place, you know. I see so many faces all round the bed, watching me--lots of faces all exactly alike, waiting like vultures for the end of me. They daren’t come when I am well, but when I am ill they grow bold.” This seems consistent with the “transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms” characteristic of BPD.

“I knew two boys once who had to make a choice between two ways of living. They could choose the life that’s described in the poem, the life that’s always trying to find the star-country with the rose of peace in it; or they could spend their lives tending the fires of revenge, red flaming fires. One of them chose the star-country and one the fires. The second boy made a very bad choice--you get nothing but scars from those fires, and ashes at the end. Even though I’m obeying Brendon now, I can’t get rid of the scars, and my hands are full of cold ashes.” Hugh initially continues with the habit of framing his stories in third person to maintain detachment, but as he’s coming to terms with the guilt of what he’s done, he slips into second-person and finally first-person, owning his responsibility for the choices he’s made.

“It must be done partly by way of atonement for the past and partly because I’m ashamed of my carelessness to-day. Don’t suppose I should have summoned up courage to do it if I hadn’t had such an alarm this evening. That fright finished things off--it brought me here.” Hugh’s motivation is his concern for Paddy and his realization of the effect his words could have. As he puts it, “Don’t you think I should care whether you drank poison or not?” The letter has the potential to stir up the same kind of hate and bitterness in Paddy that Hugh has lived with, which seems to have been his initial intent. But getting to know and become attached to his nephew (and, likely, the recent isolation, allowing a lot of opportunity for self-reflection) has led him to rethink this.

Hugh chooses to send Paddy with the papers for symbolism. He is giving Beryl and Quentin their son back.

The version of the custody battle story that Paddy gets to hear is Quentin’s. We have gotten to read Hugh’s letters and know the other version. Which is correct? Is it some of both? Or neither? Like so many accounts in this story, it remains unverified. (Although the text seems to invite us to disbelieve Quentin.)

“Paddy twisted his fingers together, his face flushed and doubtful. Contradiction was out of the question, but he held to his own opinion: whatever the nature of Hugh’s task, the surrender of the long envelope formed no part of it.” Brendon wanted Hugh to give Patric back to his parents, but putting himself back in Quentin’s custody was never part of that, because Brendon wouldn’t be so cruel as to wish his brother back with his abuser. This is a tremendous gesture of repentance.

“Seven months is a short time; he will find it long as seven years.” A frightening threat, especially considering the precarious physical and mental state Hugh is currently in. Although I doubt Brendon will allow Quentin to go to this extent, even with his “full control over the boy.”

“Brendon was lying back in an armchair, Hugh was curled up among the rugs; they looked as though there had never been a break in the harmony of their relations. Clearly, their reconciliation had been swift and quiet as their parting.” And not only this, there’s also an implication that Hugh has made his peace with God too. Even in the face of a very anxious future, this family is getting to enjoy a moment of quiet peace, much need.

Once again, the grim reality of the kind of person Paddy’s father is gets glossed over in an attempt to spare him. Brendon tries to paint life with Paddy’s parents as a good thing, without mentioning what will become of Hug in the meantime.

“No. I expect they will come here to find you.” / “Or to take up his rightful position to-night,” Paddy thought, but the words had lost something of their force now that he saw the brothers together. He leaned against his elder uncle, amused, puzzled, content.” Emphasis added. Savery is subtly suggesting through her ending that Paddy is not going into this alone, that his uncles will look out for him no matter what his father tries. This idea is furthered in the final lines (as I’ve already pointed out to you), when Paddy must go to his parents and looks behind him “to gain a last support from the sight of the brothers.” Hugh’s reaction is ambiguous (listening to the bell with his head down), but “Brendon’s arm moved slightly; it was the swift instinctive movement with which a Tenthragon of old days would have laid hand on sword.” Savery added this last line (absent in Forbidden Doors) for the revision, and it really does add to the (still rather uncertain) ending.

[lilyginnyblackv2]

HNY: Geisha, Butterflies, Spiders, Mysterious Ladies, and The Floating World - Food for Thought

So, when it comes to the mysterious lady - we got some juicy info on her the other day (some leaked images), but it seems like this may have been an actual, legit (unplanned) leak. So, I’ve since taken down the images and won’t be including any of the leaked images in this post.

I will also be placing the post under a Read More. 

However, I wanted to talk about this mysterious lady and geisha.

This has been something that’s been on my mind since we saw the leaked images of her. Her hairstyle instantly made me think of geisha. For example, here is a common geisha hairstyle:

(Source: thecoincidentaldandy(dot)blogspot(dot)com/)

It’s nearly identical looking. Then we have her kimono, which has butterflies on them. Butterflies are one of the common motifs seen on geisha kimono:

(Source: mai-ko(dot)com -  Geisha Kimono Patterns & Symbolism)

Other female characters in IY have worn butterfly kimono (Kagura, Sesshomaru’s mother, and Rin). But, all three of them have hairstyles that are not similar to geisha. The one thing that I think all four of these characters do likely have in common though, is some kind of connection to death. The butterfly kimono usage in IY has all been connected to death:

1. Kagura - Her butterfly kimono was worn when she turned into the wind.

2. Sesshomaru’s Mother - She has a stone that allows her access to the Underworld, thus a connection to death.

3. Rin - She died twice and has come back. Thus giving her a connection with death as well.

4. Mysterious Lady - We don’t know much about her, but her weapon has a spider on it. Spiders are predators and are often associated with both creation and destruction:

(Source: worldbirds(dot)org)

Two key things to note in the above screenshot image are:

1. “In this senses, the spider is a weaver of illusion.”

2. “Spiders also create, destroy, kill, and create again.”

So this fits in with the death symbolism of butterflies as well. And, in the screenshot I linked to above about geisha kimono symbolism, also fits into this part:

They are also symbols of spring as to see a butterfly is a sign that snow and frost are gone and it’s safe to plant one’s vegetables and rice again.

So, as we can see, the spider and the butterfly (especially in Japanese culture) are both associated with both death and the recreation or return of life. 

As for the geisha aspect...Do I think she is an actual, straight up geisha? No. But the ties and connection to things like the arts and entertainment is certainly something to think about. Geisha tend to symbolize many different things, such as “sophistication, high-class, intrigue, mystery” and even things like “dreams, aspirations, desires, etc.”

This imagery ties into what we’ve seen with some of the perils. Konton keeps mentioning “dancing” and Toutetsu strikes a cross-eyed pose often associated with kabuki theater and etc. So, we are seeing a large connection to the idea of “the floating world” in Japan: ukiyo. Both geisha and kabuki theater were an aspect of that (also, I’m just gonna say this here, but geisha weren’t prostitutes. I have nothing against prostitutes, but it is a common misconception that I don’t wish to perpetuate). 

(Source: www(dot)khanacademy(dot)org/)

So, we have all of these characters showing aspects that can be tied back to “the floating world.” To dreams and illusions and also to the cycle of life and rebirth and to the idea of living in the moment (one of the phrases that has been used for Yashahime, using Setsuna’s name: 刹那を生きる - setsuna wo ikiru) :

The term ukiyo (when meaning the Floating World) is also an ironic allusion to the homophone ukiyo (憂き世, "Sorrowful World"), the earthly plane of death and rebirth from which Buddhists sought release.[2]

In its modern usage, the term ukiyo "The Floating World" refers more to a state of being: living in the moment, being detached from the bothers of life.

From the Wikipedia page on ukiyo. So there is a lot of very interesting stuff going on here, and I definitely know that @trashahime​ has talked about the kabuki reference with Toutetsu and the references to dancing with Konton, etc. before, so this isn’t new discoveries, per se, but rather yet another example of the “entertainment” world of ancient Japan having some sort of presence in Yashahime.

I have to head off to work now. But if anyone wants to add or contribute to this, please feel free to do so! :)

[bisluthq]

Heey I never said Karlie = NY lol. That was just one aspect of my argument my main point was that Taylor not symbolically referencing New York along with her other homes is a no no. Like I cannot see that happening because if it did it pokes a lot of holes in the meaning of the rest of her album/ albums. To the point where if there’s no references to NY to be found AT ALL, beyond a shadow of any doubt then it’s highly doubtful that the other references were intentional references to her homes. I was 100% confident in this because when a writer has a recurring reference/ symbol (motif) the way that Taylor does with New York, at the very least the reference holds some significance otherwise it wouldn’t keep coming up. Either the writer is trying to connect the works thematically or the reference has a specific significance on its own to the writer and that significance holds true, it might not be a reference to a specific person but NY sure represents some significant & consistent concept to Taylor (that really is just how figurative language works). My issue was that I believe New York is significant to Taylor even after Lover because she continues her trend of mentioning New York and places around NY multiple times in folklore and then again in evermore. NYC doesn’t have to equal Karlie, not at all. My whole argument was essentially that Taylor places far too much of a significance on NY for it not to be referenced along with every other place/ city/ home in some mv if she’s referencing every other home she has. My whole argument was less about Karlie or Joe’s significance (that was me just objectively throwing out possible thematic connections) and more about New York’s significance and how there’s no way NY isn’t referenced in that mv.

P.S. I was right about by the way. I hadn’t planned to watch the mv again to search for a reference but I felt I had to. I started to watch over the mv but didn’t have to watch beyond 16s for the reference, guess everyone missed the cobblestones in the VERY VERY beginning of the mv (I’m not judging, maybe I am a little but not too much lol). The colour full cobblestone road that the snake was crawling along right up until the 13second mark (yes 13 seconds - watch it over if y’all don’t believe me lol), where it pauses for arguably 2 or 3 seconds then strikes at either the 15 or 16 second mark, at which point it explodes into a butterflies. Anyways cobblestones have historic significance to New York ( y’all can google that to be confirm I’m not just bullshiting). Also the west village and Cornelia street feature cobblestones as well. I’m even more certain that if I watch the entire thing again I’ll find even more symbolic references to New York. Initially my stance was either y’all missed the NY references or there really were no references to NY which would mean that the other references were truly not symbolic of her homes/ cities (because it wouldn’t logically make sense)

Nice thanks for finding a NYC reference! I like the cobblestone idea.

I still don’t think she considers it home anymore - for a host of reasons - but she doesn’t really consider PA home either and she subtly referenced it too so this makes sense.

[chapitre7]

tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us

The Untamed [陈情令] | Mo Dao Zu Shi [魔道祖师] fanfiction

Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Yīng | Wei Wuxian (Wangxian)

Canon divergence, Wei Wuxian does not die at the Burial Mounds

Read on AO3

Based on the prompt:  The people who lived on the farm were friendly, always wearing a smile despite the smell of rot.

Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light. Tell me we'll never get used to it.

― Richard Siken, Crush

   They say the people who come from the Burial Mounds are strange. Not exactly ill-spirited, not quite mean. They’re friendly, when they show up in town, always wearing a smile, despite the smell of rot.

 That’s how they knew who they were. Not by the simple clothes on their backs, or the healthy vegetables they sell. It creeps up to you while you’re distracted, thinking that maybe there ‘s a dead animal in the vicinity, or a bloodied sword carried by a serious man, or maybe even a resentful spirit, until you smell their breath. It’s why they rarely speak anything, just laugh, the sound loud in the crowd, like merchants often do, except their sound carries too far, shrill and unpleasant, just wrong in the way that it makes people turn their heads. And then you blink and they aren’t there anymore.

 “Bullshit,” a man with a mustache says, spitting green and thick on the tavern’s floor. “No one’s seen anyone from the Burial Mounds in years.”

 Or maybe they’ve just learned the right time to come and the right time to leave. They used to come with a little boy who liked to play with wood swords and paper butterflies, they say, and no one suspected a thing, not until the dirt beneath their soles gave them away, black, black like the blood of corpses, leaving an imprint on the grounds of Yiling, before the wind was merciful enough to blow it all away.

 “Hah! And have you ever seen what the dirt from the Burial Mounds looks like?” The man pats his fat belly, throwing his head back to laugh at the crowd.

 But who hasn’t seen the dirt from the Burial Mounds? After the battle at the top, after those brave cultivators narrowly survived all those years back, unstable on their feet, eyes still wide and reflecting the other side of the bridge. Who didn’t remember their screams along the streets of Yiling, only those few who escaped the clutches of the Patriarch, who crawled along the dirt, uncaring for the pretty motifs on their chests, not as long as they got away, as far away from the massacre as they could.

 “You don’t even fucking like cultivators!” A man says as he hits the back of another’s head, and the yelling is deafening in the tavern, the air thick with the stench of cheap alcohol and filth.

 Cultivators or not, they were people once. They were humans once, before the Patriarch lost his mind, and those who didn’t make it down the Mounds, they say, those whose blood watered their crops, they say, all of those dead, all of that meat, they—

 “Fucking bullshit!” They yell and they laugh and they drink, but the people in Yiling lock their doors at night and they never lose track of their children. Once a month, the women leave baskets just at the border of His land; they leave him alcohol and lotus seeds and just a little bit of silver, too, whatever they can spare to keep him away.

 And when they light their incenses and talk to their dead, they plead the Patriarch to spare them, their ancestors and successors alike, from his fury, up in his Burial Mounds. For these days still, if someone finds an unnamed, unclaimed body, they still bring it up to the Patriarch’s Burial Mounds, where countless Cultivators once died, where the tales say they were once devoured, so the Patriarch can be abated, satiated, or, if they dare to hope, domesticated.

 “What about the Lightbringer?”

 The voices die down at the name, at the memory. More than folktales, everyone knows someone who has a story of someone who was saved or protected by the Lightbringer, his sword as sharp as ice, as brilliant as moonlight. They don’t remember his voice anymore, so little he spoke in life, or even what he looked like. They say he was the most beautiful man alive, once. A jewel, a precious gift.

 Some say they heard the Patriarch yell his name until he went hoarse, until he was more darkness than man. Opposites, they had been, destruction and salvation. If one fell, overthrowing the balance, what did it mean?

 “His body was never found,” an elderly man speaks from the shadowed corner, and the silence grows stifling, suffocating like smoke.

 Some say the Patriarch keeps him as a trophy, or a talisman, or whatever it is Cultivators keep when they fall off their path.

 But in the end, nobody knows shit when they’re drunk and scared. Nobody knows the dark.

 No one lingers out after the night has fallen.

 The Patriarch is watching from his perch above.

 Breathing, breathing, while his people feast on the dead with smiles on their lips.

 ***

 “Lan Zhan, look.”

 He places the flower on the Lightbringer’s ear, the red striking in all of his white.

 “They keep growing a little ways down the cave.”

 The Patriarch’s fingers tap against smooth skin, trembling, but those cheeks are still warm, and air still blows out of his nose. Those cold, bony fingers move down, down, trailing across the cloud patterns, once bloodied but now pristine white again, to touch the spot where the golden core pulsates life through the Lightbringer’s veins.

 “Lan Zhan, I’ll grow them white for you, please wait for me.”

 White is all he deserves, white is all he should ever be, never red, never again, they’ll never touch him again, not any of them, not Gusu Lan or Lanling Jin or whomever or whatever, never, ever again.

 “Wake up,” the Patriarch says, contradicting himself, eyes red not with power but with sorrow, with the desolation that never makes it into the legends. “Wake up,” he speaks to those lips, as if he could breathe life into them, but all he breathes is death.

 The Lightbringer sleeps for one more day, with red flowers in his hair, the Patriarch draped over him like the moonless sky.

 ***

 It shouldn’t be fitting, to open his eyes to that cave. It shouldn’t hurt, if he’s already dead. But what does he know? He knows only the fight (get lost, get lost). He knows only the pain, the blood in his mouth (Wei Ying wouldn’t cry, so why does he think about it, why does he see it in his mind’s eye?).

 He must be paying for his mistakes, then. Must relive his last moments over and over again, so he can die for him, kill for him, and make up for all that Wei Ying lost. Wei Ying’s family, Wei Ying’s heart, Wei Ying—

 He’s staring at him, a few steps away. Behind him, there’s light where there was once darkness, it’s day where it was once night. From a distance, he looks just as Lan Wangji last saw him, or maybe before still, from a day spent together in Yiling, once upon a time. But with every step that he takes, Lan Wangji sees the years in his eyes, in his faltered steps, in the bones that cast shadows on his face. The last time he saw him, his hands were drenched in blood,

 (hands that frame his face now, tremble on  his face now)

 and his voice repelled him, his every being repelled him.

 (He’s breathing laboriously, and his air fans on Lan Wangji’s face, causes the Lightbringer’s eyes to widen, his heart to swell with hope—)

 “Wei Ying?”

 There’s only a hitch in his breath before Wei Ying wraps him in an embrace, crushes him against himself, squeezing, his life pulsating against him. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, he chants, pitch ever higher, growing in emotions Lan Wangji could never name. The last time they had seen each other, he had been nothing to him, not anymore. But now,

 (in afterlife? post-life? post-death?)

 his every touch and every uttering speak of something else.

 It’s almost like—

 (Wei Ying doesn’t want to let go.)

 “You came back.”

 His laugh is nervous, breaking out of him, and there’s not a breath between them, Wei Ying willingly touching his forehead to his own.

 (Do you—?)

 “Wei Ying,” he says, tilting his name with a question, his hands tentatively moving around Wei Ying’s middle to his back. The fearsome Patriarch pulls him closer, places his head to his chest, from where Lan Wangji can hear his erratic heartbeats,

 (that’s when he knows it’s real)

 and he speaks into Lan Wangji’s ear, perfectly, perfectly clear, “Don’t leave me again, don’t ever leave, not you.”

 He died for him once. Fought for him once, killed for him once. And in this future that’s gifted to him, that he doesn’t deserve, for all of his mistakes and all of his shortcomings, the Patriarch cradles him in his embrace, showers him with flowers and praise, and all of his people laugh at how he can’t seem to let go of his Lightbringer.

 Lan Wangji breathes in his air, drinks the blood from his tongue. When he beds him, the Patriarch holds him so strongly, his fingers a vice grip around his own, that he almost breaks, but he doesn’t. He cannot be broken. Not when he’s already been mended by Wei Ying’s acceptance, by his confessions that never die. Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, he chants, in his ear, in the dead of night, in the light of day, with a smile on his face, with desperation in his fingertips. Don’t ever leave.

 Why would he?

 Where there is darkness, there is always light.

 ***

 They say the people from the Burial Mounds are celebrating.

 In the market, voices have claimed that the Patriarch has a betrothed, and that they’ll be married come Spring, but no one has been able to pinpoint exactly who had said it. Some say that it was a young man with a kind smile and round eyes, or even a tall man with ash-like skin, but who can say for sure?

 When people wake up in the morning, the streets are awash with picked, red lilies, a fragrance in the air that is nothing like corpses, but still so much like death. The women sweep it all away quickly, not really knowing that those flowers haven’t grown in the area since before the first corpses were buried. They were there first, they lived there first, before the blood and the scorn, before the fear and the legends.

 They’re so busy gossiping among themselves that they completely ignore the man with the thin, silk blue ribbon around his wrist, the golden ornament catching the sunlight.

 He bargains potatoes with a grin on his face before running his eyes through the numerous hair ornaments, just to the side.

 “What are you looking for, mister?” The seller asks, a brilliant smile on her face.

 “A present for my bride,” he says, tapping on his lower lip with a finger.

 “Do you have anything in mind?” She asks, pointing to what she has of most elegant.

 The man gives a grin, and his eyes reflect an imperceptible, impossible red light.

 “Only the best.”

 Come spring, the Burial Mounds are covered in red and white lilies, and the people of Yiling whisper and shake on their feet, knowing they grow with the blood of the fallen.

 It matters not to the Patriarch what they think.

 He drinks their blood-red wine and he kisses his bride, the Lightbringer he’s never giving back.

 And if the wind blows the news that the Lightbringer is alive in his hands, then let them come.

 Let them try.

 See if they can take him away, after a lifetime.

[kittinoir]

Echoes of You Ch. 3

Read on Ao3

Akuma. 

The word flit around the ruined studio like a butterfly from flower to flower. Marinette could finally see fear beginning to bleed into the studio as people backed away from the girl. Marinette crawled behind the fallen lighting fixture, using it as cover as the girl descended into the room. The closer she got, the more details she could make out. Her skin, Marinette saw, was also a deep shade of purple, but her long pony-tail was stark white, as were her eyes.

She laughed as her bare feet touched the ground, swinging the needle around like a sword as she took them all in from the point of it. 

“I am Scream-ripper,” she announced, swinging the needle up. Marinette felt her mind blank, totally still and silent as she took in the sheer size of the thing. “Where is Dominique Valencourt?”

The needle swung down again, stopping once it was pointed at the lady who had been manning the craft table. The woman squealed, backing up. “I don’t know! I don’t know!”

“Aw, too bad.” Scream-ripper lunged. Marinette threw a hand over her mouth as the needle pierced the woman’s chest, but for a moment nothing happened. No blood, no screams of agony, no nothing. Sream-ripper withdrew the needle and leapt after someone else, leaving the woman in her wake.

The violence of it shocked Marinette back into action. She twisted onto her hands and knees and crawled towards the woman from the crafts table. She was still sprawled behind the over turned table, tugging at her t-shirt where the needle had gone through. 

“Are you ok?” Marinette whispered as she reached the woman. 

She shook her head, curly red-hair flying. “Something’s wrong! I can’t - I can’t - ”

Marinette frowned. As she watched, the woman’s movements became less frantic, her limbs stiffer as she felt her abdomen. “What is it,” Marinette asked, reaching out. “How can I help?”

“You…can’t…” Marinette recoiled as her fingers touched the woman’s bare arm; it was hard and cold to the touch. “Only…Ladybug…”

Marinette could only watch in horror as the woman finally stilled. It seemed an uncomfortable position, leaning back with only one hand behind her for support, but she didn’t move again. Her brown eyes stared at nothing. The sun shone through the ragged hole in the ceiling, glinting off her skin.

No, not skin, Marinette realized as she touched the woman’s cheek. Porcelain. Real porcelain. That thing, that girl, had turned this woman into…

“A mannequin.”

The words slipped out unbidden, a horrible truth Marinette couldn’t unrealize. 

“Dominique!”

Marinette whipped around, scrambling backwards as that girl, Scream-ripper, made another circuit of the room. Several more people had found themselves on the wrong end of the needle. She counted at least seven pairs of unseeing eyes.

“You.” Marinette looked up to find Scream-rippers’ needle levelled at her own chest. “Where. Is. Dominique?”

“I…I don’t know,” Marinette said as she desperately felt around for something to defend herself with. “I haven’t seen her since the shoot began.”

“Yes, that would be about the time she fired me,” Scream-ripper hissed. “Too bad. So sad.”

Scream-ripper abruptly leaned back, angling her needle in. She lunged. Just before the needle would have pierced her, Marinette rolled to the side, throwing herself over the table as Scream-ripper sailed by her. The needle glanced off the floor, sending up sparks, but Marinette was already running.

Scream-ripper howled behind Marinette as she sprinted back towards her toppled chair and the purse she’d left behind. If she could just reach her phone, she could call for help. She risked a glance behind her to gauge the monster’s progress. It turned out to be a mistake. 

No sooner had she looked than Marinette felt her toe catch on something for the second time that day. This time Adrien wasn’t there to save her. She sprawled across the floor of the studio, some loose sand barely breaking her fall and grinding painfully under her hands. 

A lightbulb went off, and Marinette grabbed a handful of sand as she flipped over. Scream-ripper had risen into the air once again, apparently taking Marinette’s avoidance of her initial attack as a personal failing. 

Marinette bit her lip, pushing herself closer to her purse by her heels as Scream-ripper advanced on her. Her violet eyes blazed as she bore down on Marinette.

1…2…3… Marinette waited until the last possible moment, then threw her fistful of sand as Scream-ripper prepared to lunge again. 

Marinette staggered as she climbed to her feet. Scream-ripped shrieked behind her, clawing at her face. “I will end you!”

Marinette felt more than she saw Scream-ripper take a wild swing at her exposed back. There was no avoiding it this time. Her luck had finally run out. 

Clang!

“Attacking someone who’s unarmed?” someone said. “Tsk tsk. Not very sportsmanlike.”

Marinette stumbled to a stop, snatching up her purse as she spun back around. She nearly collapsed at the sight of the boy in black standing between her and the monster, a metal baton held at Scream-rippers chest like a sword. She met a pair of glowing green eyes that sent tingles rocketing over her skin as the boy glanced back at her. Her blood rushed in her ears, and she wondered if he could hear her heart pounding from where he was standing. From the way the black ears on top of his head twitched and he grinned at her, she had a sneaking suspicion he could. 

“Sorry I’m late,” the boy said before turning back towards Scream-ripper. “But I came as fast as I could. Pretty sure I beat my purr-sonal best.”

Marinette frowned as warmth and joy and…and…familiarity crept through her chest. “Do I…know you?”

The boy looked back at her again as he advanced on the monster. She thought he looked confused, but his expression suddenly cleared, as though catching on.

“Find a place to hide,” the boy said as he avoided a strike from Scream-ripper. “Ladybug will be here soon. She’ll fix everything.”

Deja vu. The feeling of it swept over Marinette as she crouched back behind the fallen lighting fixture and watched the cat-boy fight the monster. Like she’d seen this, or dreamed this, before. 

‘Do I know you?’

She was sure she didn’t. After all, she didn’t think she’d ever forget someone like that. But more important was the screaming feeling that she should. 

She watched the boy fight, watched him dance across the room with Scream-ripper, the two of them thrusting and parrying and and dodging. The boy fired off cat-themed quip after quip, his rakish smile never faltering. An earlier conversation drifted back to her.

‘Ladybug and Chat Noir had a close call…they would never let anything happen to you.’

Then this boy must be… “Chat Noir?”

One ear flicked back towards her, as though he’d somehow heard her speak over the clash of the needle against his baton. His suit did remind her of that girl from the picture on Alya’s blog, and he seemed dead-set on keeping Scream-ripper from turning anyone else into a creepy statue.

Marinette made herself focus on her breathing, on relaxing her fingers, which had gone white and stiff wrapped tightly around a metal pole on the lighting fixture. She didn’t know when it happened, but her terror had burned away, supplanted by a burning desire to do something.

But…no, that wasn’t right. Dizziness swept her as war raged between her instincts. She was always running away, from everything. Why was she suddenly, desperately afraid to leave this boy to fight Scream-ripper on his own?

“Starting the party without me? Now that’s a faux pas!”

Everyone froze, even Scream-ripper, as the voice echoed through out the room. Chat Noir took advantage of the opening to land a kick on the monster that sent her flying across the room, her needle clattering to the ground. 

“You’re timing is impeccable, as always, m’la…”

Chat Noir trailed off as he stared the girl that had appeared on the edge of the jagged hole Scream-ripper had left in the ceiling. There was no mistaking the red and black suit, but there was something about her, something different from the photograph on Alya’s blog. Her hair, though still jet black, tumbled down around her shoulders. A single red ribbon held it back from her face like a hair band, the loose ends twisting through the loose waves. 

The suit, too, seemed different. Swaths of black covered her arms and legs like gloves and boots, leaving just the torso red and spotted. Still, there was no missing the ladybug motif. The longer she looked, the more sure Marinette was: this was Ladybug.

A shout from Scream-ripper thrust Marinette painfully back into the present. Her heart leapt as the monster came dangerously close to nicking Chat Noir with the point of her needle. Even so, he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from his partner as she swung down into the fray, his ears straight back and flat. 

Marinette could only catch snippets of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s conversation as they pressed Scream-ripper back.

“…who you think you are…anything happened to her…” Chat Noir’s eyes flashed as he attacked, fiercer than before.

“…what you’re talking about…” Ladybug grunted, stumbling out of the way of Scream-rippers needle. 

“…not her! You…Ladybug!”

“…my choice…with it, Kitty.”

“DON’T CALL ME THAT.”

Marinette flinched as Chat Noir’s voice ricocheted around the room. Even Ladybug seemed paler. She lowered her voice as she leaned into her partner, her face hard. Chat Noir stepped away from her, leaping to Scream-rippers other side, apparently choosing to fight the monster separately. Ladybug seemed content to let Chat Noir choose, but it quickly became apparent that Ladybug needed his help more than he needed hers.

Scream-ripper kicked out abruptly, sending Ladybug flying. Marinette ducked as the super heroine sailed by her, suddenly realizing how much closer the fight had come to her hiding spot. Chat Noir took advantage of the move, but he was more reckless than before. In a strike too quick to see, Scream-ripper hit Chat Noir’s baton with a clang that made Marinette’s ears hurt and sent his only weapon skittering away across the mannequin strewn floor, leaving an opening so wide you could drive a truck through it.

Marinette didn’t think; she just leapt.

It didn’t hurt like she’d expected it would when the needle tore through her left shoulder and across her back. It felt like ice, like the beginning of a wound that never started to hurt. The porcelain spider-webbing from the mark, however, was a different story. It didn’t hurt, but it tickled as it rapidly spilled across her skin, and then it didn’t feel like anything at all.

“Marinette? Marinette!” Chat Noir’s face was right in front of her, panic filling those beautiful green eyes. “No! I…I promised I’d… I promised…!���

“I had to…stop her,” Marinette said. Her lips didn’t seem to want to work. “Ladybug needs you…to win.”

For a moment his face hardened, and Marinette thought he might refuse to work with his partner, but then he gave her a single nod. “I’ll save you,” he swore, helping her sit down. 

“I…know,” she managed, but it was too hard to say anything else. Her hands rested uselessly in her lap. Her head tilted back until it rested against a the light fixture and stilled. Marinette stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. 

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 65: Like Peeling an Orange

Chapters: 65/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Mature Warnings: NSFW

Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go)

Characters: Loki (Marvel),  

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Loki Gets A Scolding, Sometimes Loki Should Not Do What He Wants, This Armor Looks So Cool In My Head You Guys, And A Fun Time Was Had By All

Summary:   Loki helps you into-and back out of-your new armor.

Your armor was finally ready. Loki pored over it, examining every minute detail. It had to be perfect. He had to make sure it was perfect.

The weavers and tailors had brought their best. The scaled plates of nornbein and steel had been removed from their original leather backing, and affixed to new; less bulky, more supple, to better fit your smaller frame. Each bit of metal had been embossed with beautiful swirling knotwork, some of them ancient Midgardian motifs.

The quilted silk tunic glistened like polished jade, soft but tough. It would peek out from under the armor here and there, offering protection from sharp things, and signaling your importance.

But the helmet-the crown-was a grand achievement of deceptive metalworking. It looked so delicate, constructed of dainty petals and leaves, affixed to a wide band. Long, gem-studded petals stretched over the top, overlapping ivy leaves trailed down the back to protect your neck, fiddleheads would cover your cheeks.

It looked as fragile as a real bouquet, but the smith had whacked it with a heavy mallet for Loki to see, and it hadn't left a dent.

“And if anyone tries to strike without a weapon, they'll lay their hand right open.” The smith had assured him. “The edges aren't sharp enough to cut just by touching, but with applied force, they certainly are.”

Loki gathered it all up, impatient to show it to you, to see you put it on, to see you take it back off, and he rushed to the kitchen to pick up some dinner that you could eat together. Preferably in front of the fireplace in his room.

The under-chefs greeted him with some amusement, wrapping up a simple dinner and a chilled bottle of that Icelandic fruit wine for you.

“So, is the Seidkona beginning a new project?” One asked politely. “A special Midgardian spell, perhaps?”

When pressed for what he meant, he became a bit nervous. “W-well, she rushed in here very excited about something, and asked for the largest glass jar that we had. We had some of those five-gallon pickle jars, so, of course we gave her one. She gave no suggestions as to what she was doing with it, but I've heard that some Midgardian sorceresses used to put their spells in jars, so we thought perhaps she was simply making a very large spell.”

“Don't worry about it.” Loki said. “I'll see what she is up to.”

Upon entering you room, he saw that you had placed your flowers-vase and all, inside the pickle jar, and covered the top with a tied down cloth. He set the bundle of armor and the basket of dinner down on your dresser.

“Darling, what-”

“Silvery Checkerspot.” You said shortly.

“I'm...not sure as to what you are referencing...”

You pointed at the vase inside the jar. More accurately at a fat, undulating worm, crawling up a flower stem.

“This creature?” He asked. “Does it offend you?”

“No, this is a caterpillar! It turns into a Checkerspot butterfly. They're pretty. Black and orange, with tiny white spots on the edges of their wings. Lacy. I used to see them and these caterpillars all the time. They're so beautiful. Also, and this is the important part-they don't live in Iceland.”

Your voice had gone a little hard, and Loki internally recoiled. You knew. This traitorous little orm had whispered his secret to you by very virtue of its presence. How could he have known that, among the no doubt thousands of species of butterflies in this world, this would be one that you were so familiar with? How could he have known that there were none here? And how was he to know to search for hitchhikers in the first place?

He'd been so high on success, and trying so hard to hold on to all the sensations that had been swimming in his head, that he hadn't spared a thought to looking out for creatures that would give him away.

And now you knew that he had been back to your home without you, and he was just now realizing how angry you might be about that. Very angry, perhaps. Betrayed, even. 'Never touch me or talk to me again' maybe.

Oh no.

Had he ruined it? He'd been trying to do something nice! How could he continually fail so badly at doing good things for people?

He hadn't always been so bad at this. It was one of the many things that had gotten lost on the way. One of the things unfairly taken from him.

Was it going to drive you away too?

“I thought you had gone back to Akureyri on your business. I figure Leynarodd could probably get you there and back in way better time than we made. But you didn't exactly say where you were going, and that's why isn't it? Letting me assume isn't the same as lying, is it? But Leynarodd can't get you across a whole ocean. God, when I woke up this morning in all that pain, I should have guessed...”

Loki flinched. The pain. He'd thought he could avoid it if he went while you slept, that he could do all this without causing you any trouble at all, but the trouble was all here anyway.

“What could have taken you back there?” You continued. “Couldn't have been just the flowers.”

“I...needed to understand you better.” He explained. “I needed to experience the world you lived in. The surroundings you grew up in. The land that shaped you. I needed to know it better. There's something I want to do for you, and I needed that information.”

“What thing?” You asked, sounding mildly skeptical. Loki's mind screamed at him to fix this, fix it right now.

“It's a special surprise, just for you.” Loki leaned down, placing both hands on your shoulders, gazing sincerely into your eyes. “Please don't be angry with me.”

“Oh, Loki.” You wound your arms around his neck. “I'm not angry. I'm sad I didn't get to go.”

He took the opportunity to hold you tightly to him, relieved that you weren't pushing him away.

“I'm sorry.” He said, possibly the first time he'd uttered the words to you. “Of course you miss it. I'll take you there, sometime. When it's safe. When we can walk the streets without having to hide. They honor you, you know. They've named a cupcake after you. They even seem to have accepted my involvement, though it might be no more than crass opportunistic commercialism. I saw no effigies of myself burning, though, so that's a good sign.”

“Dad and Tara tell me they've been spreading the word about my 'medical treatment', so everybody probably just thinks you're bad at being altruistic.”

Loki scoffed. “I suppose I'm not exactly famous for it...”

“You will be. You really seem to want to do big, great things. As Asgard grows, you'll be able to do more. You'll live so long that you'll have time to do a lot. Long term projects. I wish I could see-”

“Shhh. I'll show you everything.” Loki promised. “Don't you worry. What will you do with the worm?”

You glanced back at the pickle jar. “It's a big bouquet. And the caterpillar is in a late instar. There should be enough there for it to eat until it pupates. Then...I guess I'll let it go. They don't live long after  coming out of their chrysalis, and there's no more butterflies for it to meet up with, so there's no way for it to become invasive. The cold will probably kill it early, but that would have happened back in Iowa too. Sometimes they just get started late, and don't have enough time. This would probably have been the last flush of flowers that it would have found. So it's okay. I just want it to reach it's full potential, even if it won't have much time after that.”

Loki stroked your hair. Was that what it felt like to you, when you examined your lifespan in contrast to his? Like this larval creature, did you see your magical potential as something to be mastered, even if you wouldn't have many years to make use of it?

Could there be some way to prolong your time?

And if there wasn't, what would he do?

He released you and you glanced curiously at the things he had brought.

“Presents?” You asked. He scooped up the armor bundle and dinner basket.

“Of a sort. I thought we could eat in tonight. Your armor is finished. Would you like to try it on?”

You agreed, and he led you back into his room, down in front of his fireplace. Dinner first, little bite-sized tidbits that he knew you liked, fed back and forth, and a moderate amount of wine.

He could see just the tiniest bit of tipsiness shining in your eyes when he put the food and drink aside, and brought out your armor.

You marveled over each piece, rubbing your face against the shimmering silk, delighting in the little details all over the armor. Loki helped you put it all on over your dress, and then, he offered the helmet.

At first you were speechless, overcome by its beauty. Then you couldn't stop gushing over that beauty, interspersed with welcome thanks and much less welcome insinuations that you didn't deserve something so grand. You deserved everything. You deserved the moon and stars. You deserved every ounce of precious metal, every carat of gemstone, you deserved it all, if only because he wanted to give it to you.

He stood you in front of the large mirror, and with great satisfaction, lowered the helmet down onto your head. Like a reverent coronation, you stared at yourself, as if trying to recognize your reflection. Beyond the slight asymmetry of your face, which had never quite gone back to normal, there was now the new look of your perfectly tailored armor over top of your flowing skirt, all your beautiful jewelry, your precious knife, and this helmet, a crown fit for royalty.

You were no different in appearance than a noble goddess, one of the glorious Aesir. He could see you at the head of a battlefield, shouting orders and being obeyed, at the head of a table, presiding over a victory feast, at the head of a bed, holding a swaddled infant in triumph.

You had turned and could clearly see what was in his face, as he hadn't bothered to hide it. Maybe he wanted you to see.

“Show me yours.” You said-almost commanded, pawing at his chest.

He liked this side of you equally to the shy side. The side of you that demanded, that expected, that could be selfish. The side of you that made you run up and grab his hand in the first place.

He knew what you meant. Green light webbed over his body, replacing his comfortable tunic and trousers with his ceremonial court armor. You stared, breath becoming heavier, taking it all in. The stiff, thick cape, the tall horns, the complex Nornbein breast plate with all its interlocking pieces meant to mimic the scales of a snake-or the belly of a dragon. The built in scale tassets on the thighs of his fine, olive trousers, that just so happened to draw the gaze in a certain direction...

He watched your eyes drift downwards, slipping down the metal guides to their intended focus-he still couldn't believe his mother had never said anything about it-and grow round at the sight of him, lovingly cupped by taut cotton. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips.

You pressed close, and though he couldn't feel you much through all the layers, there was something just as exciting about the clink and weight of the armor as there was in the silky warmth of bare skin. He wrapped his arms around you, squeezing, and you smashed your mouth against his in hungry lust.

You nearly knocked him over in you eagerness to get him onto the bed, and he fell into a sitting position, laughing.

“Stars, you're beautiful.” He purred. “Powerful. Grand.”

He reached for his trousers, but you stopped him.

“Not yet.” You said.

“Not yet.” He repeated.

“Just this.”

You straddled him, your skirts hitching up around your thighs, and pressed very close. Now Loki could feel your warmth, cloth barriers the only thing separating you from his swiftly hardening member, the bulge of which you began grinding slowly against.

A soft groan escaped him.

His hands found your rear through your skirts, and your throat with his lips, delighting in the vibration of your pleased moans. The friction grew between you  as you drew away to gaze at him through heavy-lidded eyes; His armor, his helmet, whatever it was you saw that you liked so much had you throwing your head back and rolling your hips even faster.

And it was he who had done this. Merely existing, wearing a certain set of clothes, he had driven you to this frenzy of lust. Just because he wasn't truly inside you just yet, didn't mean this wasn't what it was. You were taking him as your own, and he was absolutely going to let you do it. Anytime, any way, however you liked.

Your moans grew high and ragged; Loki crushed you to his chest, bucking his hips. The friction, the heat, and the sound of your impassioned cries sent him spiraling into his own orgasm.

You held each other like that until your breathing slowed, and your bodies relaxed.

“Well. We should get you back out of that armor.” Loki said, voice slightly rough. “I'd say it more suggestively, but it appears you beat me to it.”

“You really don't know how sexy that armor is? Didn't anybody ever throw themselves at you while you were wearing that?

“Well...yes. But it didn't really matter. It wasn't you.”

You mewled an embarrassed little sound, and hid your face in the crook of his neck. Loki chuckled, running his hands down your body. Your new armor melted away into your comfortable and modest nightdress.

“Wow...Where did it all go?” You asked, wriggling in his lap, as his own armor faded into soft sleeping clothes.

“To your room, where your nightgown was.” He said, as you ran your fingers through his newly freed hair.

“Your horns are so handsome.” You murmured against his lips. “Just like you.”

He felt the bashful smile curl his mouth. “Will you stay with me tonight? He asked hopefully.

You nodded. “I'd like to. If you don't mind though, I need to play noise on my phone. It's been helping me sleep.”

“Whatever you need.” Whatever kept you by his side.

The two of you took a little time to clean yourselves up and prepare for bed, then snuggled down in the sheets together, holding and stroking one another. You set your phone up to play cicada song, and Loki watched you slowly fall asleep to its sawing.

Soon, his little project would be done, and you might never have to sleep away from him again.

[chronicparagon]

Free Verse

I decided to move this to its own post to keep verses better organized and make Harmony’s information versatile. 

The profile for Harmony’s Free verse is below.

NAME: Harmony Halcyon NICKNAMES: Harm, Har, Harmy, Ha-chan, Har-chan, Mato Ciqana (by her family, which means Little Bear).

Her nickname in her family changes to Mato when she inherits her grandfather’s Lakota name in honor of graduating from high school. AGE: Varies by verse between 18 years to 26 years. Default age is 19-20. POSITION: Default verse is a university student majoring in nursing and member of the swim club. Becomes a certified midwife nurse later on. RESIDENCE: Grew up on the Black Hawk Reservation in Montana, United States. Her current location depends on the verse. FAMILY: Destiny Halcyon (mother), Lucas Halcyon (father), Issac “Mato” Halcyon (grandfather, deceased). NOTE: Mato means bear or fiercely angry in the Lakota language. Harmony’s relatives are found here: LINK

ETHNICITY: Native American (enrolled member of the Lakota) Note: She’s half Lakota Sioux, a quarter Crow (the Crow Nation), and a quarter Euro-American (Irish and British). SEXUALITY: Pansexual

RESIDENCE: Grew up on the Black Hawk Reservation in Montana, United States. She moves to Yokota Air Force Base near Tokyo before relocating to Iwatobi when her father retired from the Air Force.

IMAGE COLOR: Turquoise MOTIF ANIMAL: Grizzly bear SWIMMING STYLE: Butterfly, breaststroke, freestyle (crawl)

Reference

Art made by Yohao88

Appearance: Her long hair is dark brown, sometimes mistaken as black with long bangs and gray eyes. Harmony stands about 5 foot 4 inches (162.5 cm) who is toned due to working out with a pear-shaped figure. Her weight fluctuates between 135-140 pounds (61.2- 63.5 kg). 

Her style varies. Compared to many girls in Iwatobi, Harmony is deemed to be a bigger girl due to her figure and musculature. Harmony is a member of the Lakota tribe from her father’s side. It was a goodbye present from her grandfather before leaving Black Hawk. 

Harmony has three piercings. One on each ear lobe and she has a piercing on her tongue. When she swims, the piercings are replaced with retainers.

She also has features indicating her motif. Harmony has sharper canines to resemble a grizzly bear’s teeth. Hidden beneath her clothing are ghastly scars over her body. Her upper back, right shoulder from childhood. Growing up, there’s a reason why she opts to wear long sleeves. By the time she turned eighteen, Harmony received a tattoo on her upper back of an eagle.  

Note: Due to cultural norms, Harmony would conceal the tattoo in public in Japan. in other verses where she is located elsewhere, she would be more likely to reveal her tattoo and scars.

More information for it can be found here: Link

PERSONALITY: Generally, Harmony a shy girl who can get excited on occasion. This can be off-putting to other people, especially if she just met them. It makes her come off as socially awkward. Most of the time, she’s more reserved, often in the background. She fears that people won’t like her because of the color of her skin, her name, or the scars she hides. This makes her have little confidence in herself. It will take time for Harmony to warm up to someone. Once she does, she’s sweet, even affectionate. Her most noticeable traits are her kindness, being polite, and quiet nature. Much like a grizzly bear, she can be fierce, which may be a bit scary. It occurs when she witnesses injustice or when her friends are in trouble. This is a little bit of a contrast to what she was like living in Tokyo prior to moving to Iwatobi. She was more belligerent and had a habit of getting herself into trouble. This is explained more in detail to what brought this on in her full backstory, which is further down the profile. She’s stubborn, sometimes this can do more harm than good. Harmony means well, but even after living in Japan for several years, she still has much to learn and a lot to adjust to. Harmony is dedicated, sticking to her tasks to the end. The last thing she wants to do is let anyone down.

BASIC MEDICAL INFORMATION BLOOD TYPE O+ MENTAL DISORDERS: Depression, anxiety, insomnia MEDICAL PROBLEMS: Scars, family history of Type II diabetes, heart disease, and kidney disorders (tied to diabetes). More information can be found here: LINK

STATUSES  CURRENT STATUS: Stamina: 4/5 Body: 4/5 Mental strength: 2/5 Water repellency: 3/5 Logic: 3/5 Courage: 4/5 EXPECTED STATUS: Stamina: 5/5 Body: 5/5 Mental strength: 5/5 Water repellency: 5/5 Logic: 5/5 Courage: 6/5 

FULL BACKGROUND INFORMATION

Triggers: Fire, racism, xenophobia, death

Harmony Halcyon was born and raised in  Montana. Her parents owned a small bison ranch, and she used to spend her days helping her parents and riding her horse to endless plains. She loved the mountains that stand in the distance and the sky was open, limitless. As a child, she spent time with her paternal grandfather. He often told her various stories from legends passed down between generations and humorous misadventures of himself and his sisters as children. 

She had a Karelian bear dog named Sedona and a paint mare, Mojave. She used to take long horseback riding through the trails in the neighboring forest. Harmony was a happy child.

.Unfortunately, her life would dramatically change. Harmony was a child when her parents lost everything. It all started with fire. It grew and ravaged the wilderness, stretching far and wide. The Halcyons couldn’t save their home. The fire surrounded Harmony who was riding Mojave on their way home with Sedona in tow. The raging fire scared the horse, and the girl fell from Mojave’s back. She was trapped in the fire. A burning tree strikes her down, pinning her to the scorched ground. A desperate attempt to free herself burned her right hand and arm. Burning debris fell upon the girl. 

She couldn’t escape.But she wasn’t alone. Sedona desperately dug at the pile of fallen branches and ash. The dog pulled Harmony out and to the edge of a lake away from the smoke. Sedona left her, only to return with a rescue team following her. If it wasn’t for her Sedona, Harmony wouldn’t have survived. Mojave’s return without Harmony warned her parents and they acted quickly, only to find that rescuers found their daughter and was transported for burn treatments. The burns would remain as scars on her skin. Harmony struggled when she became ill from infections, a result of the burns. In the end, Harmony would pull through. But the same could not be said for the stability her family had.

The wildfire took everything. The herd was killed by the flames and stifling fumes. Harmony’s home engulfed by flames. It almost claimed her life.All that was left was her family, Mojave, Sedona, and a few of their belongings.

.The Halcyons had nowhere to go and the hospital bill was high, Indian Health Service couldn’t help cover all the costs. Employment was difficult to come by in Black Hawk.  No one in their small town would hire them, except two Air Force recruiters who met Harmony’s father, Lucas.  He took a chance that day. He enlisted and soon found out he must go to Yokota Base near Tokyo, Japan. The family made sacrifices before leaving the United States. Harmony’s heart broke when her parents sold Mojave. They couldn’t take her with them. The little girl could only watch when a strange man drove away with Mojave in a trailer behind his truck. Harmony wouldn’t ever see her again. 

 Thankfully, the family kept Sedona, and the family relocated when Harmony was ten years old. They lived modestly, just like always while sending some money back to help Mato make ends meet. She struggled in a new country. New expectations, new people, new language. She was rebellious as a child, not adjusting well to the culture shock. Children made fun of her trying to speak in Japanese and her appearance. She was darker compared to the other children. The children often question whether “Indians” still scalp people or live in tipis like in the old movies. They teased with war cries and left her out in most of their activities.Fitting in society was just part of the problem. Harmony couldn’t stand the sense of claustrophobia with the city enclosing around her. She stayed in the large city, almost forgetting what the stars looked like and it’s as though the sky that she once loved is imprisoned by towering skyscrapers.  She missed the mountains and valleys, and the sky that could go on for thousands of miles.

Yet, Harmony soon got used to it. Slowly adjusting to the life on the base and in an urban setting. The family learned to speak Japanese and blend in the best they could. Unfortunately, there would be another tragedy inflicted on Harmony when she turned thirteen. Her grandfather passed away, succumbing to his long battle for hsi health.

First her home, Mojave, and now her grandfather.  Harmony felt isolated, hurt, and yet she couldn’t do anything. Kids made fun of her for not looking the same, her necklace, and although she became more fluent in Japanese, she still stuck out. She tried to make the most of it but wished things were different. Isolation has left her longing for friends, becoming withdrawn and unsure of herself. This led her to get into trouble for any sort of attention. This included getting into fights.After several years, Harmony’s father went into retirement from the Air Force. 

Her parents grew to love Japan, but missed the quiet life in the country. They were also afraid of Harmony getting into trouble, such as joining gangs that were rampant in the city. They thought Iwatobi would be the perfect place and relocated there. Harmony’s mother, Destiny, received an education from Yokota and gets a job as an elementary school teacher in Iwatobi. Lucas got a job as a security guard at Samezuka Academy, and Harmony transferred to Iwatobi High School.

After moving from the city to the quiet town, Harmony must acclimate to another dramatic change of environment. This time, it was easier because Iwatobi is closer to nature, just the way she likes it. However, making friends isn’t easy, which led her to wonder if joining a club would help in achieving that goal. After searching for all the options, Harmony discovered the Iwatobi Swim Club. A chance to challenge herself, make a name for herself, and make friends.

[gunbun]

:) :) :) :) ALL. OF. THEM.

turnabout is fair play and all that!

Bearing in mind that we’ve just started out on this shippy journey –

1. Who likes to nuzzle their head into their partner’s chest?

This is something established in that first fanfic, and from a lewder perspective, I guess I have heavily implied that Urianger is a boob guy.  So it’d be him.  But also I think there’s a big part of him that also likes the honest, less-sexual comfort of being the nuzzler instead of the nuzzlee.  He’s normally putting up a front, whether it be to take on his role as the brains of the Scions’ operations or to gather some intelligence - when they’re together, and alone, he does not have to do that anymore. As such, he prefers to be close and just hold Tiona, without pretense.

Their entire physical relationship, I think, is going to be without pretense.  

Also, nuzzling for Tiona can sometimes prove difficult as her ears can get in the way and she doesn’t enjoy it when they get bent.

2. How many and what colours are the blankets they like to snuggle in?

(also asked by @seascrapes ) I imagine them both to be kind-of utilitarian in that regard; they’ll prefer a blanket that’s a bit hardier and that will travel well, for snuggling purposes. Layer them as needed.  I’m imagining soft undyed wool blankets, so grey and white and cream.  Their bed, wherever it ends up being once everyone is fully existing on the same realm, is probably slightly more opulent; silky cream sheets, a fluffy red duvet, and probably a lighter quilt that’s used in the summer months and is usually folded up at the foot of the bed.  Something from an Ala Mhigan textile provider.  I imagine their bedroom/home/whatever they get is a space that they’re particular about, because truly, they wouldn’t be there all that often.

3. Who runs up and hugs their partner and who stands arms wide open to catch their partner?

Tiona runs up - and she’s quick on her feet - and Urianger just rolls with it, as he does for most of Tiona’s irreverent little hijinx.  She’s tall, but light, even compared to him, but if she’s dressed in her working clothes and heavy boots, it might be enough to make him stagger or, depending on how sudden it was, topple over.

4. Who would be more likely to get matching scarves for themselves and their partner?

Again, they’re both a touch too utilitarian for things like that, but of the two?  I imagine Urianger – he strikes me as much more of the gift-giving kind.  They would be the lighter kind of scarf, too - the most stylish fucking fashion scarves you ever saw.  Probably with astronomy motifs, because AST gotta AST.  Shiny trim.  Very well-made.  I imagine Urianger is the sort of man contractors would fear because he would go over everything with a fine-toothed comb, ask the right kind of questions, get mildly annoyed when the contractor just sort of stares blankly at him.

5. Would they much rather go on a romantic date or a laid back date? Explain why.

(also asked by @seascrapes ) Laid back.  Tiona is a Warrior of Light and all that, and Urianger is with the Scions too, and they’d just really like to relax, please.  Tiona wants to work on the idea of maybe going to check out Far Eastern hot springs.  That the pools are shallow enough that they don’t even hit Urianger’s waist probably isn’t going to matter to him, but if he tries That Thing again, he’s gonna get a concussion, and besides, the water’s warm, and for soaking.

That went off on a tangent.  Laid back dates.  Picnics, cooking for themselves, maybe going to performances here and there once everyone’s realigned in Eorzea.

6. Who still gets butterflies after years of dating?

They just started in my fanfiction bullshit, and I honestly haven’t thought that far ahead, but I will say that Tiona is consistently awestruck by how godsdamned beautiful she finds Urianger.  Of course he’s a very pretty-looking man, but she finds the fact that he’s spent years seeing and ingratiating himself with the worst things on two worlds (for the purposes of the Scions’ goals) and can still find something to be poetic about – yeah, it gives her the butterflies now and I honestly can’t imagine that changing.

7. Who is the one who makes their partner laugh so much that their face hurts?

Tiona.  Urianger thinks she’s hilarious. She knows it, and plays it up from time to time. He is a guarded man, yes, but in situations where there’s privacy or where it’s simply friends congregating, he comes out of his shell a little and on more than one occasion he’s been laughing that hard over something she said or did.  

8. How would each of them explain how they met?(also asked by @ishgard )

Tiona: “His organization hired me.”

Urianger: “Indeed, that is effectively the way of things.”

And then they tell you as little as they can get away with.  I imagine they’re private people who want their relationship to be theirs.

They got into each other’s orbits because MSQ.  Being a Warrior of Light is convenient that way.  Insofar as where the seeds of the relationship were planted; Tiona always kinda had a mild crush, but when Moenbryda came on the scene and then That Other Thing happened, she sat down with Urianger and basically just kind of patted his hand and explained that she understands, really, because it happened to her.  I think that’s…not where Urianger started to think of her as a potential romantic prospect, but it’s where he started to make a point to spend time with her, even if just as a friend. Tiona seems to understand him, what he’s been through, and what it is he has to do. She’s always admired his competence at his job; she figures him to be the Intel Guy amongst the Scions.  Some find him shifty and a pathological liar, and she understands it’s the nature of his work (with the exception of that one instance in Nihal).Of course, events on The First sort of threw everything into relief: he pined for her for three years and realized there was love there, and she figured it out when primordial Light basically eroded her soldier’s internal compartmentalization mechanic.

9. Who accidentally drinks too much caffeine and who has to deal with their partner bouncing off the walls?

Urianger.  Tiona is just naturally (and sometimes a little uncomfortably) energetic, but as soon as everyone’s realigned on Eorzea (GOD so much of my fic ideas hinge on this MOVE FASTER SQUARE ENIX) he’s going to be undertaking a very stringent and very serious course of study with a highly grumpy astrologian mentor and this mentor is going to make him do Math.  So much Math.  He’s a smart fellow; he can do it, but he needs to stay awake to finish the work.  He skips his usual tea and goes straight for the coffee.He doesn’t bounce, but he just works frantically and for many hours without eating, and then without warning passes out so hard his head bonks off his desk.Tiona just sort of bundles him up and takes him to bed, he sleeps for like 10 hours, and she cooks breakfast in the morning.

10. Where is a special place they hold close to their hearts? Why is it special?

They’re very recently together; they’re still establishing their relationship and how it works. There hasn’t been an opportunity for them to have a moment to find a place all to themselves where they can make a decent memory or three. 

The Bookman’s Shelves is a nice place but one can never be certain that a pixie isn’t watching.