#feat. snake's bad decisions

[oskea93]

Kansas Anymore: Drabble #1

Tyler Owens x OC

Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.

Warnings: Cursing, angst

✶ Chapter One ✶ Chapter Two ✶

■ Italics = Flashback

■ A/N: So this is just a little outtake update. These drabbles will be focused in the past and will spill the tea on Tyler and Riley's relationship - good and bad. I am gonna start writing chapter three in the coming days so be on the lookout for that... And I may have another fic on the brain... Stay tuned ❤️

■ Taglist is available - just drop a comment! Would love to hear your thoughts, questions, or maybe just drop by to say hello! Can’t wait to hear from y'all

TL:  @ellesmythe  @18lkpeters @hookslove1592  @djs8891 @smoothdogsgirl @queenslandlover-93 @imjustamehbleh @love2write2626 @lt-jakeseresin @starcrossedtrek

@lauraseresin @axolotllover225 @kmc1989

“You can’t be serious right now!” My knuckles were white as my fingers curled tightly around the handle that sat above the window. “You’re gonna get us killed – fucking turn around!”

The car veered sharply around a corner, tires squealing against the asphalt. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing like a drum in my ears. The sky was pitch black, the only light coming from the dim glow of the dashboard and the constant flash of lightening high in the sky.

“Relax, I’ve got this!” Tyler’s voice was steady, but I could see the tension in his clenched jaw and the way his eyes darted to the rearview mirror as the funnel barreled closer.

“Relax? Are you kidding me?” I shouted over the roar of the engine. “We’re not in some action movie! You’re gonna get us both killed!”

He didn’t answer, just pressed harder on the gas pedal. The speedometer needle climbed higher, and I could feel the car vibrating with the effort. I glanced out the window, trees blurring into a dark smear as we raced past them.

“We can’t outrun a tornado, Tyler!” I yelled, the panic rising in my throat. “This is insane!”

Tyler glanced over, his hands reaching over, pulling the belt tighter across my chest. “Wanna bet?”

The wind howled outside, shaking the truck as if it were a toy. Debris flew past the windshield, some of it slamming against the car with loud thuds. I could barely see the road ahead; the rain was falling in sheets, and the wipers struggled to keep up.

“Tyler, please!” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it cracked with fear. “We need to find shelter, now!”

He ignored me, his eyes fixed on the road, his knuckles as white as mine on the steering wheel. The car hit a pothole, and we were jolted violently, my head smacking against the window despite the seatbelt. Pain shot through my skull, and I tasted blood.

“Damn it, Tyler!” I screamed, tears blurring my vision. “This isn’t worth it!”

In the distance, I could see the tornado’s massive funnel, an ominous silhouette against the flashes of lightning. It was like a monstrous black snake, twisting and writhing, consuming everything in its path. The sound was deafening, a constant roar that drowned out even our screaming.

“God dammit, Riley!” Tyler yelled. “I fucking got this!”

But the tornado was gaining on us, its monstrous form growing larger and more terrifying by the second. The air pressure dropped, my ears popping painfully. The car swerved again, narrowly missing a fallen tree branch.

“Tyler, we’re not gonna make it!” I sobbed, clutching the handle above the window as if it were a lifeline. My mind raced, picturing the car being lifted and tossed like a rag doll, the metal crumpling, the glass shattering. This couldn’t be how it ended.

With a final, desperate glance at the rearview mirror, Tyler seemed to make a decision. He yanked the wheel to the right, sending us skidding off the road and into a muddy field. The tires spun, struggling for traction, but Tyler kept the pedal to the metal, urging the car forward.

There wasn’t a house in sight – just an open field. I kept my eyes trained on the scene in front of us, glancing every other second to see how Tyler was reacting. His once cool and calm façade was now replaced by worry and fear – feelings that the so-called tornado wrangler never dared to show.

The car's headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the swirling chaos of wind and rain. The tornado’s monstrous form was a dark shadow against the flashes of lightning, growing larger and more menacing by the second. The air pressure dropped even further, making it hard to breathe, my ears popping painfully.

“Tyler, what are we going to do?” I cried, my voice barely audible over the roar of the storm. “There’s no place to hide!”

Tyler’s eyes darted around, searching for any sign of shelter, but the field stretched endlessly in every direction, offering no refuge. The car hit another bump, and I was thrown against the door, my heart racing faster than ever.

“Just hold on, Riley!” Tyler shouted; his voice tinged with desperation. The tires struggled to find traction in the muddy ground, the car fishtailing wildly.

I wasn’t the praying type – never having grown up going to church and all that, but at that moment I was desperate. “Please God – please God.” I whispered the words like a mantra, hoping some higher power would hear me, even if I had never believed before.

The wind howled around us, the noise deafening, as debris began to pelt the car. The windows rattled, threatening to shatter. The car lurched as it hit another rut, and I could hear Tyler cursing under his breath, fighting to keep control.

“Look!” Tyler yelled, pointing ahead. Through the sheets of rain, I could make out the faint outline of a small bridge, its weathered wood barely standing against the storm.

Tyler didn’t hesitate. He gunned the engine, aiming straight for the structure. The car bounced and jostled over the uneven ground, the structure growing larger and larger in our view. As we neared, Tyler slammed on the brakes, sending the car skidding to a halt against the side of the bridge. Without a word, we both threw open our doors and ran for cover, the wind nearly knocking us off our feet.

“Hold onto that pile!” Tyler’s voice was barely heard over the roar of the wind as I wrapped my arms around the wooden fixture. Tyler’s body hovered over mine as the rain pelted us sideways, mud and debris hitting us as the tornado approached. The red truck that Tyler treasured began to be pulled away only to be slammed back into the side of the bridge, my screams being overshadowed by the wind as nature’s force laid upon us. The wooden planks shuddered as the rusty nails began to give way, ripping off the top.

The bridge groaned and creaked, the old wood and metal straining under the sheer force of the tornado. Splinters flew through the air like missiles, and I pressed my face against the wooden pile, trying to shield myself from the onslaught. Tyler’s grip on me tightened, his body a protective barrier against the fury outside.

“We’re going to make it!” Tyler shouted, though his voice was filled with equal parts determination and fear. I held onto his words like a lifeline, my heart pounding in my chest.

The wind howled louder, and I could feel the bridge lifting slightly beneath us, threatening to be torn from its foundations. My mind raced with images of us being flung into the storm, the bridge collapsing, and Tyler’s truck being swallowed by the tornado. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying for the nightmare to end.

The noise was deafening, a relentless cacophony of wind, rain, and destruction. I felt like I was being pulled in every direction, the tornado’s force almost too much to bear. But Tyler’s presence kept me grounded, his unwavering strength giving me hope.

“Just a little longer!” Tyler yelled, his voice barely audible over the storm. “It’s almost over!”

A loud crack echoed through the air as one of the bridge’s support beams snapped, the structure shuddering violently. I tightened my grip on the pile, my knuckles white with the effort. The wind seemed to intensify, and I could feel my body being lifted slightly off the ground, the pull of the tornado almost irresistible.

And then, as suddenly as it began, the wind started to die down. The roar of the tornado faded, replaced by the steady patter of rain and the distant rumble of thunder. The pressure around us eased, and I dared to open my eyes.

The bridge was still standing, though barely. The top was partially ripped off, and debris was scattered everywhere, but we were alive. Tyler loosened his hold on me, glancing around to assess the damage.

“I think it’s moving away,” he said, his voice filled with cautious relief.

My eyes moved around, my body still shaking as tears started to prick against my eyes. The bridge was a tattered mess but for some reason we were still here – still alive. “You okay, baby?” Tyler’s hand caressed my arm, turning me to face him as he checked for any visible injuries. “Looks like everyth-“

“You stupid fucking asshole!” His body fell back at the force of my push.

Tyler's eyes widened in shock as he stumbled back, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in my demeanor. “What the hell, Riley!”

I could feel the anger boiling inside me, a mixture of fear, relief, and frustration. "You almost got us killed, Tyler! What were you thinking, driving straight into the storm like that?"

His eyes stayed connected with mine, searching for the right words but knowing they would still be wrong in my view. “Baby—” He sighed. “It’s a part of the job – tornadoes are my job.”

I stared at him, incredulous. "Your job? Your job is to drag me into life-and-death situations without even a warning? Without any regard for our safety?"

Tyler ran a hand through his hair, his face a mix of guilt and defensiveness. "I didn't expect it to get this bad. I thought we could get through it like we always do."

"Like we always do?" I echoed, my voice rising. "This isn't some routine storm chase, Tyler. This was a goddamn tornado! I could have died out there! We both could have!"

He took a step closer, his expression softening. "Riley, I know you're scared. I was scared too. But this is what I do. I study storms, I chase them. I can't just sit on the sidelines."

"But why drag me into it?" I asked, tears welling up in my eyes. "I didn't sign up for this."

Tyler took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine. "Because I need you with me. You're my anchor, Riley. You keep me grounded. I thought... I thought having you there would make it easier."

I shook my head, the tears spilling over. "It's not easier, Tyler. It's terrifying. I can't go through that again."

He stayed silent for a moment, “Would this be a bad time to ask you to marry me?”

My head jerking up, meeting his gaze, “What?”

I watched as he slowly reached into his denim pocket, pulling out the diamond ring. “I’ve had it in my pocket for about a week now – lost the damn box – almost lost the fucking ring a time or two.”

The tension in the air was palpable as Tyler revealed the ring. Despite the fear and adrenaline coursing through me from the storm, my heart skipped a beat. His eyes were earnest, filled with a mix of hope and apprehension.

"Riley," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "I know this isn't the most romantic proposal, and I know I've put you through hell. But I love you. I want to spend my life with you, chasing storms or not."

I stared at the ring, sparkling even under the dim light, and then back at Tyler. The weight of the moment pressed down on me, the reality of our dangerous lives juxtaposed with the promise of a future together. It was as if the storm outside mirrored the turmoil within me.

"Tyler," I whispered, my voice breaking. "This is crazy. You’re crazy."

He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "Maybe I am. But I’m crazy about you, Riley."

A laugh bubbled up, mingling with my tears. Despite everything, despite the fear and the chaos, there was love. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

I took a deep breath, my hand reaching out to touch the ring. "Yes," I said, my voice steadying. "Yes, I'll marry you."

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Tyler's face lit up with joy, and he slipped the ring onto my finger. It felt strange, comforting and surreal all at once. But in that instant, surrounded by the remnants of the storm, it felt right.

Tyler pulled me into an embrace, holding me tight as if he was afraid to let go. I could feel his heart pounding against mine, a rhythm that matched my own. The storm outside seemed to quiet, as if acknowledging the significance of our moment.

"I promise," Tyler murmured into my hair, "I'll do everything I can to keep you safe. I know it's dangerous out there, but I can't imagine facing it without you."

[just-a-ghost00]

Surprise reading to celebrate my new oracle deck

I was kindly gifted an oracle deck by a French reader that goes by the name of Soul shadow, whom I admire a lot. It’s a 90s anime themed oracle deck. So to celebrate this new baby, I decided to do a reading on the following theme :

a message from someone you love ❤️

No picture to pick from today, just use your intuition and pick a number between 1 and 3.

Group 1

I had to take a break to sort things through. There were so many things I wanted to tell you but it would have been difficult for me to express them in the state I was in. I don’t want you to think that I’m mad at you or that I hate you because that isn’t true. I sincerely think that meeting you was the best thing that could happen to me. I met you at the perfect timing and there is nothing I would change about that. With you I really feel like I can tackle the world and overcome anything. I need time to understand what this means to me, to figure out how I can better fit you into my life, to solve my own issues and find my footing. I know that asking you to be patient is a bit unfair. But I really need the space right now. I can only hope that you understand this decision and that all ends well in the end. I know this is going to be difficult but I have hope that we can overcome this together. Will you wait for me?

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 Group 2

I really thought that I had it all figured out. But that was until you came into my life. At first, I will be honest, I didn’t like your energy. I thought you were too carefree. But the more I got to know you the more I understood the importance of going with the flow with you. Know that I am open to whatever may happen, now that I stopped overthinking, I can really appreciate the journey and I really feel hyped up. Though I don’t need it, I really like to be reassured by you. Every time that you encourage me or celebrate me, it’s just one more sign for me that I’m doing the right thing and I’m grateful for that. There’s a lot that I wish to say and I plan on taking the time to express them when I get the chance. I have now found a new goal, a new purpose in life and I intend on showing everyone, including you, what I am made of. I know that I can be better and do better. And though a part of me is scared, I know deep down it’s worth fighting for. It’s time for me to put some order into my life and work toward my desired reality. Thank you for showing me the way to my destiny. You really are amazing!

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕 Group 3

I hate that I love you because I can’t have you. You were the one thing that I could not control and I believe you will be the death of me. I keep telling myself that tomorrow will be better, that I just should keep living and enjoying life. I try to forget you but I can’t. I tell myself that I don’t care. That I don’t like you. That all I need is my family who always supported me but honestly that’s just bullshit. You are family as well. You have always supported me and the least I can do is be there for you too. I’m haunted by my memories of you. I want to talk to you so bad and a part of me is that close to giving in to temptation. But another just isn’t ready to face it. Those memories are too painful. Behind my cold exterior lies a ton of repressed feelings that I can’t seem to control. Whenever I’m with the people I love I can’t help but to think of you and wish you were there. Whenever I’m having fun and celebrating life, I can’t help but to think of you who always stood for me and cheered for me and feel grateful because this victory is also yours. In these moments, when I am the happiest, the first thing I want to do is come rushing to you to share that happiness with you. Ah you make me go crazy. I just want to leave it all behind and come back to you asap. Fuck it.

[ivestas]

könig with a confident/badass reader that knows their shit? 👀 im so hrrrng for this man i want to fluster him so bad

blackened valor

Summary: König admires you, so you expose your humanity to him. 

Tags: soldier!fem!reader (call sign “hound”) x könig, reader implied to be on the older side, smoking, barely edited, mentally ill reader, this might be triggering for those struggling with suicidal thoughts so please be careful/dont read! 

Word count: 1.1k

Notes: anon we are literally on the same wavelength, i was earlier thinking about a reader who has that dorky badassery of snake or raiden or literally any mgs character LMAO

Not much was known about you beyond your feats on the field. 

But those feats defined your personhood within any military—the moment a recruiter knew who you were, they’d be on their knees begging for your presence among theirs. 

It was like being a celebrity, except you got no perks and more targets on your back and eyes on you every second of the day, trying to break down your character and understand—understand what, only God knows. 

You were fine with that, though; you get used to it after a while: the praise, the envy, it all becomes white noise over the howl of the wind. 

So it was a normal occurrence when you noticed a set of eyes on you. 

What was abnormal was the one doing the staring. 

An Austrian giant. 

It piqued your interest; a shallow reason to humor since you’ve been in this situation numerous times before, but you didn’t care. 

From your seat in the empty lounge, you leaned back, regarding him carefully.

He couldn’t meet your stare. 

Cute. 

“You are?” You grabbed a lighter from your pockets, popping out a cheap cigarette at the same time. In a swift motion, the cigarette was alight on your lips, and now it sat between your index and middle finger. 

“König, ma’am.” 

“Ma’am?” You couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled out your lips. “I’m ‘Hound’ to everyone, no need for the formalities, save that for your captain.” 

He nodded jerkily. You noted his scrunched shoulders, his stiff poise, and his foot moving in a rhythmic motion. The chair he sat on seemed to bend at the movement. 

"Hey, c’mere.” 

In an instant, he did as you said, walking to you quickly. 

You pat the spot beside you. “Sit, no need to sit on that shitty chair. Pretty sure it was about to collapse.” 

Nodding again, he sat beside you. 

You lift your cigarette to him. “Wanna?” 

König shook his head. “I don’t.” 

“I’d praise you for making such a good health decision, but it’d make me a hypocrite considering you chose to be a merc.” You sighed, taking another puff of smoke. “Speaking of, what’s a timid guy like you doin’ in a merc group?”

“...”

“Touchy subject, eh?” You shook your head, laughing again. “It’s always like that with soldiers—it’s either to pay college debt or to run away from some fucked past.” 

König glanced at you, finally. He held your gaze. 

“What about you, then?” 

“Me?” You hummed, leaning forward now with your elbows on your knees, one hand propping your head up while the other held the cigarette. Looking up at him, you smiled. “Money. Valor. Suitors. I’m a materialist at heart, I love the attention too. I’m super fucking vain.” 

“That can’t be?” 

The way he gasped those words made you grin. He was quickly becoming a favorite. “Then what do you think is the real reason?” 

“Uhm...” His fingers tapped his knee, and his eyes strayed up, deep in thought. Then, embarrassed, his voice dropped. “...to change the world?”

Despite the clear embarrassment, he said the words with unwavering sureness, and it dawns on you that he probably thought of you as some war hero—a pursuer of all that is good for the world.  

When you look at him—properly this time, not an off-handed glance—you can see it in his eyes, the shine. 

You were right. 

In the past, moments like this would be awkward; you never knew what to say, how to softly break the truth that you were just some woman, and the honest truth wasn’t coated in honor and your drive to be a force of good.

But now? You didn’t care. You never had.

“I wanted to die,” you said casually—and it was a casual admission, you didn’t really care, because that was the truth. 

You saw his eyes widen and it nearly made you laugh. 

“I was gonna, you know, kill myself when I was younger. Had planned it out and everything,” you sighed wistfully. “Then, I thought, ‘why not join the military’? Easier to break to my family that when I inevitably died, it was for a cause rather than the fact I succumbed to my own perpetual weakness.”

“It’s not—” 

“’It’s not weakness’ yeah yeah,” you scoffed. “It’s easy to say that because you feel it. We all feel it—the desire to die.” 

The bottom of his hood shifted again, and you expected to hear his words, but nothing came out. 

“But, yeah, I guess after a while of realizing that I’m cursed with some twisted luck of brushing past the grim reaper, I decided to be a bit of a saint and run around and ‘fix’ things, just to stave the boredom away.”

You took another puff, longer this time. “You grow attached to the idea of bringing peace, I think. My advice? If you want to bring the most change, let go of your fear of death. Suddenly, everything’s not so scary anymore...” you smile. “But I’m guessing you’ve already done that, haven’t you?”

König was silent, but after a moment, he nodded. 

“See? Now you’re just as much of a ‘hero’ as me.” You lifted the cigarette. “You sure you don’t want, by the way?” 

“...I’ll try.” His hands were large, dwarfing the cigarette to a ridiculous degree. 

With his free hand, he lifted the end of his hood, and you caught a bit of his face. 

Pretty. 

He sucked in and began coughing right after, lowering the cigarette for a moment. Clumsy puffs of smoke shot out his lips, and after a few seconds, he tried again. 

Still awkward, but a bit better. 

“Ah, you’re getting there König, now you’re just as much of a hero as me!” You reached for the cigarette and took a puff before handing it back. 

He paused before putting it back between his lips, but you notice a flush of pink dusting his pale skin. Even with just the bottom of his face showing, you could see he was... blushing? 

That made you bark out a laugh. 

He’s so fucking shy.

He seemed to have caught on quickly because he quickly moved the cigarette back to you, refusing to meet your eyes, tugging the hood back over his face.  

“Come on soldier, don’t be shy! We’re all friends here, right?” You leaned back and pat his shoulder. “Unless..?” 

He froze under your hand. 

You laughed again, letting your hand rest there. He didn’t push it away, remaining stiff under your palm, head turned away and fingers fiddling with gloves wrapped around his hands. 

AO3

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[a-shrieking-cloud-of-bats]

check in post

check in post

as for this month-or-so I've been sticking my toes into more socializing in internet spaces as I've had positive experiences from doing it in other places and pushing myself a bit more will hopefully help on that front

notably I am starting to realize I was sort've being a stuck up dipshit as an excuse to push people out out of fear so I am starting to kick that back out and to be honest I think the social media drop off helped A Lot with that; tumblr has a bad habit of starting up this idea that because you are a part of x y or z group you are The Best

of course you do need to be ready to push some people away so it's not like it's entirely bad but I think tumblr goes a bit far with hyping that part up

besides that I've been playing xiv again (related to the above point) and am trying to get into it a bit more consistently rather then subbing, burning myself out doing the same things I always do, unsubbing for like three months, then repeating the cycle so that's good

uhhh the helldivers II honeymoon is over because honestly the missions take fucking ages and I don't really have time for it with the sample system they have for progression being painfully slow

it's not warframe but it's not good despite being a very well designed game

this decision had nothing to do with the PSN account thing but honestly if they insist on that I might return it honestly because from what posts I've seen the devs have been fairly pro sony about the entire thing which is rubbing me the wrong way

on the bright side it did indirectly introduce me to helldivers I which plays much faster and is honestly a neat little game so that's nice

funnily enough this all comes right in time for deep rock galactic season 5 so rough for HDII

sekiro progress has been going well and after beating lady butterfly I blew through gyobu and that flaming bull so I am pretty happy about that

giant snake segment tense as hell though

annnd I have that video game feat of strength coming up in a post after that

I hope things have been going well for you internet

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/26/2024: THE DAY OF BAD DECISIONS feat. TRAP and SPEAK NO EVIL (2024)

I know I've said some version of this in several entries, but I'm trying to stop picking movies that I know won't give me anything nice to say, and I really let myself down this year. I had a lot on my plate, personally, and I didn't want to be this careless but OH WELL. Out of some fucked up sense of inevitability, I caved in and watched TRAP, which was somehow a worse experience than whatever I expected.

The titular "trap" is this improbable thing where a serial killer called "The Butcher"--the laziest serial killer name ever and also one that is not at all earned in the movie--is supposed to be captured at a gigantic arena filled with thousands and thousands of tween concert-goers, which is pretty stupid. The Butcher aka Cooper (Josh Hartnett) is a goofy suburban dad who takes his goofy daughter Riley (Ariel Donoghue) to see Lady Raven, aka M. Night Shyamalan's daughter Saleka, about whom more presently. You might think you're going to get something like SNAKE EYES where the environment of a championship boxing match is fully exploited to create some complex scenarios--the unique structure of the building, its surveillance technology, its communication systems, all the potential collateral damage, etc--but nothing that clever is afoot here. Cooper and Riley spend quite a lot of time enjoying the concert and palling around with the staff and the singer, before they all move on to Cooper's home where he and Lady Raven engage in a battle of wits because she has been elevated to the status of detective for some reason. I swear to god there's a moment where she's taunting Cooper by describing the whole Butcher situation to his wife Rachel (Alison Pill), and Rachel says, "Did you catch him?" Which is hilariously absurd, and also sort of the main problem with this entire movie: the gross overreaction to Lady Raven.

I knew that M. Night Shyamalan had mounted this movie as a vehicle for his daughter, and I know she's a real professional recording artist and everything, but the two of them were just not equipped to make a movie that convincingly simulates the excitement of an arena show by someone with the star power of Taylor Swift. (His explicit point of reference was that this should be like the Eras Tour) That's a tall order, and the concert never rises above the atmosphere of like, a large community center show for local talents. The music is anonymous, the costumes are bad, everyone is being pretty well-behaved, and it feels like it's just a lot of little kids. Actually I almost felt sorry for this movie because SMILE 2 does such a stellar job of creating a convincing pop star--something that is almost always a bad idea--complete with realistic top 40 songs and successfully Gaga-like stage shows. I mean it really works, it's sort of miraculous...and then TRAP comes out at the same time, with an actual pop singer in it, and it manages to completely undermine whatever real-world charisma and ability she might have. If I didn't know she was a real performer, I wouldn't have bought it.

I think that to get the message of this movie, you have to really attach yourself to needy tween Riley's point of view, which is a tall order in and of itself. It's not enough to just say "Saleka Night Shyamalan is really cool and pretty and a good singer, right? She should be a big star, right?" You have to like, empathize with the point of view that Saleka is the BEST pop star, and empathize with how awesome it would be if she picked YOU to dance on the stage with her, and empathize with the fantasy that her whole entourage are really nice and cool and they like you, and empathize with the thrill of Saleka coming to your house and hanging out with your lame boring family and saying things like "I don't know why but I feel so connected to you!" Like this is just a lot to ask of the viewer--you're not just asking me to agree that Saleka should be a famous singer in real life, you're asking me to have this whole fantasy about what if Saleka were already my idol AND I find out that she's an awesome person in real life who wants to be my bff AND she's a super radical girl detective who fights my jerky daddy! This movie just expects a humongous buy-in from me right off the bat without giving me much in exchange, and honestly I felt sort of offended.

Mercifully I'm a little too far away from my screening to fully account for all of the things about TRAP that were stupid and dull and infantile and didn't make any sense. M. Night Shyamalan is complicated to deal with. He has his defenders, and I think their position is that he makes these breezy, fun, blockbuster-y things that are just supposed to be pure entertainment--and honestly I always tell myself, "Well, this will be dumb fun, at the very least"...but then it isn't. Then it's actually frustrating, and pretentious, and babyish, and I just wind up feeling really exasperated. I'm capable of finding THE HAPPENING entertaining because it's just so relentlessly silly, and I can sort of remember how it felt when THE SIXTH SENSE was new, but practically all of his movies become insulting at some point, and that is not an enjoyable sensation.

That movie took me up to about 11:50pm on 10/26, and I thought maybe I could rescue the day's entry by starting something else under the wire, and I picked the exact wrong movie. Blumhouse remade the 2022 Danish movie SPEAK NO EVIL and I don't know why. I guess they just couldn't think of anything else to do. I always remember when Jason Blum was on The Last Drive-In and he described himself as basically just a salesman who knew nothing about horror movies, but he noticed that horror was selling and figured he could sell that too, and so he produced PARANORMAL ACTIVITY and the rest is history. That made so much sense to me, that Blumhouse is the brainchild of a salesman from outside the film world, who knows a hot product when he sees one. But anyway SPEAK NO EVIL seems really unmotivated to me. When the trailer came out and it showed every single major plot point in order from beginning to end, I was sort of stunned. I almost wondered if that meant they had added something new to the story, so there could be some surprises still in store, but there really isn't.

To my mind, the only real virtue of the first movie is how shocking it is. I mean, it's OK, it's fine, it just doesn't seem to have a real point to make. It participates in that trope where it's like, bestial rednecks torment city slickers who are too polite to react with the appropriate violence, which means they're a bunch of castrated hypocrites. When STRAW DOGS does it, it's about dysfunctions of masculinity and how you need to maintain your primal animalistic instincts if you're going to survive. FUNNY GAMES does it in the service of criticizing the commodification of the spectacle of violence. THE VAGRANT does it to be hilarious. There are a whole slew of movies that deal with this, not always in very inspired ways, and I'm not sure what SPEAK NO EVIL wants other than to be unusually graphic about child abuse and generally be a gigantic bummer. Which is fine, you can do that. But then why remake it? Blumhouse didn't do an exceptional job, the drama is unconvincing and they backed off of the extreme darkness achieved by the original. Maybe it's ironic; I've been promising myself that I'll be less bitchy about movies on the internet, and then SPEAK NO EVIL just has so little to say that I don't have much to say either!

[choccos-aaart]

(October 2022) It will be some time until I hand in my final assignments, but at least I can still draw 

1. A snake person reading a book 

2&3. Some pets for saurosapients

4. A conversation between a pterosapien and a sail person, feat. a tool breeder (and on the bottom right corner, a pterosapien looking up at the sky, having just learnt her short existence compared to her far-away cousins)

5. A hedonist and her Qu owner 

6. A parasite making bad decisions for their host 

7&8. Assorted post-humans

[bxllafanficc]

Lady of mischief- Part four

Pairing: Loki x Greek!goddess f!reader

Summary: Asgard is having a change of power so there are several events Loki has to get right before he can announce victory against his brother as the next king. But one lady’s approval will change the whole outcome if the stakes are right. That lady is you, intended heir to the throne of Olympus but tied down to a marriage of convenience with one of the princes of Asgard. The prince you choose to marry will be the next king but you refuse to let yourself be a pawn in this game for power. Loki, with his intentions to take you as his queen has far greater reason to marry you than just for the reason of being king. You however, would rather cut off your left arm than exposing yourself for the fact that there’s another purpose besides Loki getting a throne to sit on.

The palace halls were crowded with workers and even aristocrats from far away staying in the palace’s guest areas. People from high ranking families and servants alike came our from their rooms. The chatting wasn’t quiet enough for you not to hear but the context was obvious. Everyone wondered why Asgard was suddenly shaking, why the ground beneath their feat suddenly became an object of death instead of the concrete safety it’s always been. The poor Asgardians had probably never experienced an earthquake before. Or a god loosing their cool and taking it out on the nature either.

Despite people making the halls hard to get past, everyone stepped aside for the prowling embodiment of fury: you, on your way to confront the man who started the nightmare.

You truly tried to make the waking earthquake to stop. It wasn’t at full force yet since you were still somewhat grounded. But every time you would try to strap the source of its boiling anger, a maid you walked past would mention prince Loki’s wellbeing and the emotions would burst off the lid again.

And you knew that you’d never make this decision in a calm collected state. After all, this was what he wanted. You’d play into his hands if you didn’t act careful.

You pounded on the wooden door and secretly hoped it would break a hole from the impact. The door stood unaffected.

“What’s the matter?” The mumble was faint and came after a brief paus.

You gave the door one last punch and regretted it immediately. How would confronting him affect the earthquake? We’re you being selfish for potentially putting the Asgardians in danger?

You were just about to turn around and leave but the door swung open with a stale-eyed Loki at the other end.

“(Y/n)? What are you doing to my poor door?”

Couldn’t he at least act like he was surprised to see you? At least give you that much satisfaction?

You crossed your arms tightly above your chest and forced yourself to stare him right in the eyes. The thought of making him stand accountable for his actions was the only thing not making the shaking worse.

“Are you the reason behind me falling every 3 seconds? The waves are especially strong here, did you know that?” You actually didn’t know about that, which only showed just how little control you had over yourself.

“Would you care to elaborate exactly what was your plan tonight? Making me look like your pretty little pawn all dolled up in that dress or locking me up here, tied to your leash for all eternity?” You tried your best to hide the emotion in your words but ended up just spitting them through your teeth instead.

He looked genuinely clueless with his furrowed eyebrows. At least he gave you that. Wrong timing though. His hand traveled up the frame of the door as a way of stealing himself for the shaking. If you lost just a little more control, he’d either fall on his rear or right over you, taking you down with him.

You stood unaffected by the shaking, however.

“What are you talking about? Why would I want to lock you up?” He raised a pointed finger at you.

You had to scoff. How could he pretend not to know when it was so obvious?

“You going off earlier to whine to my uncle wasn’t you manipulating him into getting what you wanted?”

The finger fell slightly and he formed a faint ‘oh’ with his lips. But his expression was still curious. Was he offended?

“Yes but, what does that have to do with you being ‘locked up’?”

“You don’t know?” The shaking seemed to intensify and it caught you off guard.

“If you’ll enlighten me, I’ll answer that for you when I know what we are talking about”, he said as he almost fell forwards with a soft yelp. Your noses touched just as he got a hold of the doorframe, your cheeks brushing against each other as he slumped forwards in relief. It was only a second of him being so close but you felt frozen in the moment.

“And would you stop doing that?!” He motion at the ground and the shaking actually faltered. Not because he told you to stop, but because you weren’t furious anymore. The anger seemed to have vanquished and you were too caught up in his closeness to ask yourself why.

Finally Loki seemed to realize how close you actually were and pulled away. His hair tickled your neck just like they’d done earlier.

“I’m sorry for…” He tapped his nose and cheek with a soft hand. “I know you… that you, yeah.”

Find it disgusting? ‘Despise’ his touch? But you never really meant it, though. Back then he laughed it off but now it seemed like he took your words with him ever since. It kind of made your stomach twist in guilt. Or hunger. You couldn’t tell. When was the last time you’d eaten? Wine didn’t count, that much you knew.

“(Y/n)?”

Why were you here, again? Right.

“Right… Zeus banished me from entering Olympus.” You just said it bluntly because there was actually something else you’d rather said. You lacked the guts though.

“What? Why? Does my father know about this?” His eyes turned round as if it was really bad news for him. The reaction you’d expected was nothing like what you actually got.

“I don’t know about that. But I’m forced to stay with you and Thor until… Until I’ve made up my mind.” Your arms fell flat to your sides since you were no longer angry. Back was the collected you. But you couldn’t quite remember the events leading up to you calming down.

“Haven’t you made up your mind since long ago though? And that’s not for all eternity- wait nevermind, I get it.” His expression faltered to match yours and you started looking around. At the furniture, at the walls… Without the anger giving you strength, you could no longer look him in the eyes for too long.

Lastly you peeked beside his broad frame and into his room only to find it absolutely destroyed. Chairs and what you assumed must’ve been his working desk were broken into tiny pieces across the floor along with shattered porcelain figures of different sorts. The drapes were halfway ripped off the window and stuffing from the bedsheets were still visibly dusting the air.

Loki must have seen you noticing the mess because he let out a muffled sound and moved in front of your vision.

Now forced to look at him, you saw that his hair was tangled, clothes messily arranged and his chest rising and falling rather quickly. Was that redness in his eyes as well?

“Loki, are you okay? Have you been cr-“ He immediately cut you off with a dismissive arm and avoided looking at you. The tables had turned so quickly you still had trouble figuring out how to handle the situation.

“Of course not! Now it’s time for you to go. It’s bad for your highness’ skin to be awake for this long.”

‘Your highness’?

He was already midway at closing the door when your hand snaked between and caught it. You could see him getting ready to put distance between himself and the door through the small gap you had left.

“Is there something that- is everything alright?” You didn’t really know why you were now chasing his attention like that. Didn’t you want him to stay away from you? To avoid and feel nothing but hostility from you?

Loki only wasted one second to look at you before he sighed and untangled your fingers from his door. The skin-to-skin contact was warm. Not at all despicable as you’d told him. Damn your mouth sometimes.

“Yes. Everything’s just fine. Good night, my lady.” And so you were facing a closed door. You were thinking about knocking again but somehow knew that door wouldn’t open anytime soon. You’d heard of past experiences where the prince would lock himself up in his room for days just so nobody would see just a tad of vulnerability from him.

Had you just made the maid’s work harder? You thought about how you would have to apologize later if that was the case. Maybe apologize to the entire population of Asgard for causing the ground to shake while you were at it. If you were to stay here for all eternity, you might as well make some friends. Because it would most likely be forever. Either you were trapped refusing to marry one or the brothers or trapped by the crown that would be on your head if you did end up choosing one.

The walk back to your room was quick since it wasn’t too far from the prince’s. Henna greeted you at the door and brought you inside to discuss the matter that caused your outbreak.

“So prince Loki’s room was like a scene out of a war? I heard from the maids here that outbursts like that has only occurred a few times before but the prince would always cover it up with illusion magic immediately. He’d ignore it for as long as he could until sooner or later when the servants tripped over the mess and couldn’t see the reason for them bruising an arm or knee.”

He’d cover up the destruction? Why hadn’t he done it earlier? Maybe you caught him off guard mid-rampage. And so he was to distracted to conjure the spell.

Henna had been talking nonstop ever since you came back. She insisted on babying you tonight and currently brushing your hair before bed, she had all the time in the world to talk.

“Henna?” You stared into your own reflection in the mirror and found only tired eyes met you at the other end.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Do you know if it’s usual for the prince to cry?” Henna put down the brush and went to grab your nightgown with an almost skipping walk. Why were she in such a light mood tonight? Right. Everyone had a great time at the banquet, except for you and, you assumed, Loki as well. You should be asking Henna if she danced with some handsome youngster tonight instead of hearing about gossip about the second born prince. You should mind your business. Loki was fine, as he said.

But Loki is a known liar.

“No, I don’t think so? There would definitely have been servants talking about that if it ever happened since prince Loki isn’t very popular with the maids. Why do you ask?”

If that was the case, then you were probably just imagining it. His eyes could be red out of straining the veins in his face from destroying all that furniture too. And after all, prince Loki’s wellbeing wasn’t your concern.

But you couldn’t help but wonder why he suddenly started addressing you so formally just as he wanted to get away from you, since he never usually kept up the formalities in private.

(A/N: Hi! Don’t hesitate to comment on each chapter what you thought about it/if you liked it since that keeps me motivated to keep writing. Also reblog so my story reaches a wider audience, if you really liked it! Your support is much appreciated. Also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this series. Have a good day, lovelies!)

Find the other parts in my MASTERLIST

Tag list: @liffydaze @queen-of-mischief @sidepartskinnyjeans @girl-obsessed-with-things @obsessivelysearching @reverse-iak

[combat-wombatus]

A Little Confession

Pairing: Iida Tenya x gn!reader

Genre: a lil angst, fluff

Warnings: none!

WC: 1.5k

Summary: You missed your best friend. Iida seemed to be avoiding you, and a late-night cuddle sesh may be just the thing to get him to fess up.

(A/N): akjhfskjdhflakjhlkjhfd this took me 2 weeks and it’s like 1.5k words help-

i can’t like deal ok this is absolutely terrible and i’m just...posting this because I NEED TO GET RID OF MY WRITER’S BLOCK DAMMIT

forgive my sins...idk if y’all really want to read this ALKDJFHAKJ it sucks but...yeah...just needed to get something out too...

this is for my new year’s event btw (yes i realize we’re halfway through january already i still have 30 asks sitting in my inbox staring at me like 🧍🏻‍♀️i promise i’m not ignoring them i just...suck at writing-

6: “You knocked on my door, at 2 in the morning, to cuddle?”

You tossed and turned in your bed, the restless energy from tonight still invading your thoughts. You found it hard to believe what had happened.

Over the course of the week, your classmate had been kidnapped, All Might’s true form had been revealed, more of your classmates risked their lives to perform a rescue operation (albeit successful) of their kidnapped classmate, a formerly-believed-to-be-dead supervillain showed up and basically demolished an entire city with a quirk you hadn’t thought would be possible, and now you had all moved into dorms for your own safety.

If that wasn’t overwhelming, you weren’t sure what else could possibly be considered so.

To make it all worse, your best friend, the rule-abiding, goody-two-shoes hero-in-training, had been a part of the rescue operation. The rescue operation that most definitely broke the rules.

You were worried about him. Not his sudden change in attitude (you had felt that the orderly behavior would succumb to recklessness sooner or later), but with the fact that he didn’t tell you about his involvement until it was already over and done with.

Of course, that could’ve been because you were with Hagakure and Jirou, passed out in the hospital from a villain’s gas quirk, but that didn’t mean your phone was broken.

It would’ve taken one text.

Just one.

One that he never sent.

Sighing, you flipped over on your unfamiliar mattress again, trying to clear your mind so you could fall asleep. It was close to 2AM, and if you continued like this, you wouldn’t have enough energy to stay awake in class tomorrow.

He doesn’t have to tell me anything! You tried to reason with yourself. It was his business! Besides, it’s not like I could’ve helped.

But what if he’d gotten hurt?

What if you weren’t there to save him from his reckless decisions?

You hadn’t even seen him since that incident, and he hadn’t reached out by text either.

Did he not want to associate with you anymore?

Unwelcome thoughts plagued your head, making it impossible for you to get any sleep. Sighing to yourself, you quickly threw back your covers, tossed on a cozy cardigan, and shoved your feet into your fuzzy slippers. The restlessness had made you hungry, and since you couldn’t sleep, food was the next best thing.

Quietly making your way into the halls, you shuffled in the direction of the kitchen, careful not to wake your classmates. You’d almost made it to the elevator when you spotted a faint glow coming from inside Iida’s room.

He’s still awake too?

Steeling your nerves, you raised a fist and rapped on his door lightly. A chair screeched, and moments later, Iida answered the door in a nightcap and pajamas.

“(Y/N)?” His eyebrows were drawn in a frown. The gesture made the heavy bags under his eyes look even more prominent, and the sight made your heart clench.

“Ten…what’s wrong?”

He adjusted his glasses, looking uncomfortable. “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand you. There’s nothing wrong.”

You saw through his fib, but you chose not to call him out on it. He’d tell you when he was well and ready.

“Then…can we cuddle?” You voiced hopefully. You’d missed him more than you cared to admit, and being rather touch-starved the past week, you longed for his familiar strength.

Iida, for his part, looked confused. “You knocked on my door at 2 in the morning…to cuddle?”

“Mhm,” you yawned. Stepping past his door, you swiftly wrapped your arms around his solid frame, relaxing in his scent.

“(Y/N) …” he awkwardly closed the door with one hand, the other wrapped around your back. “We aren’t supposed to be in each other’s rooms.”

You murmured noncommittally into his chest. You could deal with the repercussions later.

After a moment of internal debate, Iida rested his other hand on top of your head, rubbing soothing circles and slightly mussing your hair.

“Missed you,” you mumble, voice slightly muffled by his shirt.

Iida cleared his throat, desperately trying to get rid of the lump that was building in it. Hugging you tighter, he rested his chin atop your head.

“I missed you too.”

After a while, you tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“‘m still hungry,” you mumbled sleepily, nuzzling your face into his chest.

Iida chuckled. Some things never change.

“I’ll go grab something,” he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Go sit on the bed, okay?”

“Mhm…” You sat down on his bed. His sheets smelled like detergent and eucalyptus, an intoxicating aroma that made you even sleepier than before.

“Don’t think he’ll mind if I just…lie down…” Kicking off your slippers, you curled up on his mattress. You’d only closed your eyes for a second before you drifted off into sleep, hands clutching the warm blankets.

“I got some cheese and-” Iida stopped in the doorway, holding a packet of cheese and some crackers. “Oh.”

His eyes settled upon your dozing form. He carefully set down the snacks, then quietly padded over to the bed. Gingerly sitting down as to not wake you, he shifted the blankets over your body, a gentle warmth filling his heart.

He didn’t want to acknowledge how much he missed you either. He wasn’t a selfish person. He really wasn’t. But for you, no matter how hard he tried, he found it hard to not be selfish.

Slowly, he laid down on the bed next to you, trying to keep a respectable distance: not an easy feat to accomplish, given his size.

Taking in your peaceful expression, he found it in him to finally fall asleep, grounded by your presence, just a fingertip away.

You woke up to Iida’s breath tickling your cheeks, his arms wrapped snugly around your torso. Shifting slightly, you gently lifted one of the arms caging you in and slid off the bed, padding to the bathroom.

When you returned, he was still asleep. The lines of his jaw were softer than usual, making him look…relaxed. You resisted the urge to snap a picture right then and there.

Your weight settling on the bed stirred him from his slumber.

“Hmm…(Y/N)? What…oh.” He blinked blearily.

“You didn’t wake me up yesterday?” You asked softly, resting your head atop his chest.

Iida flushed. “Ah…no. You looked tired, and it was late, and, well…I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Ten, you know you could’ve. I wouldn’t have minded.”

“I would’ve,” he whispered.

This time, it was your turn to blush.

He didn’t stop at that.

“(Y/N) …I…I don’t want to be a bad influence.”

You stilled. What?

“You…a bad influence?” You giggled. “Ten, where did that come from?”

He breathed out a sigh. “I…I never told you, did I?”

“Told me what?”

“This isn’t…this isn’t the first time. This isn’t the first time I…participated…in vigilante activity, (Y/N). This isn’t the first time I stepped outside the bounds of the law to complete my own agenda.” He admitted with a pained expression.

“Ten…are you telling me that you’re a vigilante?”

“Not really, no.” He winced. “(Y/N) …do you remember Stain?”

“Stain? The Hero-Killer?” You dug deep into your memories, trying to remember what was so important about Stain.

Oh.

“Is this about your brother?”

Iida grimaced. “I…I may have left out the entire story about my internships.”

“What happened?” You had an inkling about what he was going to say, but you didn’t want to make assumptions yet.

“I interned at Hosu City, even though I received better offers…because I’d heard news about Stain operating there. I wanted revenge, (Y/N). I wasn’t…I wasn’t a hero at all. There’s something about misguided justice that pumps you full of adrenaline, and I made several rash decisions. But after the fact? I regretted all of them.” Iida clenched his eyes shut, but two shiny tracks still snaked their way down his cheeks, marking dark splotches on his pillow.

“Ten…”

“And that’s just it. I regretted what I did, but then I had to go and do it all again. Genius, right?” He scoffed at himself. “I’m a terrible influence, (Y/N). I…I don’t want to ruin your future.”

“Stop it.” You hugged him tight, burrowing your face into his chest. “I don’t think that you’re a terrible influence at all. You did save him, didn’t you? Without you…do you really believe that Bakugou would’ve made it out safely if you hadn’t gone?”

“I…”

“Stop being so hard on yourself, Tenya. You’re braver than you give yourself credit for. And yes, you were reckless. Yes, you made rash decisions. But that’s not enough to measure your whole life by. And, in the end, you did accomplish something for the greater good, right?”

A small smile played at the edge of his lips. He pressed a small kiss onto your forehead.

How lucky he was to have you.

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

He almost said something else after his expression of gratitude. Three simple words, whispered in his head, that he didn’t yet have the courage to confirm out loud.

I love you.

Coco’s 20-21 New Year’s Celebration

Masterlist

[griffnoir]

i had this idea for a fic that i just wanted to share bc i thought it was neat and i know i will never write it under the cut : regulus black and severus snape, young and not that desperate, team up to defeat voldemort (for better and for worse)

- we are in 79. regulus goes to retrieve the locket, happy to die a sad and heroic death BUT kreacher brings him back to grimmauld place against his orders. he is dying... because of a potion... kreacher knows someone who knows shit about potions... regulus lives au! severus gets kidnapped by a nasty house-elf :/ he def had better sundays but that’s fine: he helps his fellow death-eater bc it’s what one does (everything for the cause!)

- regulus heals. regulus isn’t so happy about it (one cannot even kill oneself in this economy) then the conversation goes: reg : hey do u wanna know something that will get u killed? sev : no. reg : so the dark lord has made this thing called an horcrux... :D sev : T.T fuck why would u say that to me

- severus had doubts(tm) about this death-eater thing. this is the tipping point. so they are here, 18 and 19, one braincell between them, deciding after multiple identity crisis that they will kill the dark lord or die trying (they have better faith in the dying part but that’s ok they have nothing to lose) - they both know too much so this is a sort of race against time reg : i guess we could go to dumbledore sev : lol we are not THAT desperate

- they don’t go to dumbledore ://

- it is very important to me that they can’t fucking stand each other on the best of days. like: severus is severus, the little rat(affectionate) but i always thought of regulus as a mix between sirius and draco, plus whatever u want (this is not a good mix). the guy is pampered, rich, posh and a bloody nuisance of a person (also a dedicated blood supremacist); severus isn’t a Black so for once in his life he is actually the well-adjusted one - this doesn’t augure well for their enterprise

- do they succeed? yes. how? dumb luck. also they have a “they didn’t know it was impossible so they did it” type of thing going on. regulus’ superpower is the fact that he is rich, has connections and that nobody suspects him of anything. severus’ one is pure spite and the hogging of the braincell; they both think they are the brain behind this operation and that they are superior to the other in the ways that count (actually they are both just clowns)

- one of the only thing they share is the ultimate goal of killing voldemort; also, they both have somebody on the other side they don’t want ending up dead, so there is that; moreover they are both stressed out of their minds (the self-medication is strong and it could become a problem)

- they have to juggle their public life, their death-eater life and their hunting horcruxes life. it gets complicated :(

- grey-ish moral decisions are made, but hey! one has to do what one has to do

- how do they find the horcruxes? perhaps with the help of dark magic? through inside knowledge? a bit of both? regulus could know where is the diary/ the cup; if u know what u are looking for, nagini is an obvious answer; the ring can be found with minimal research on tom riddle; the diadem can be a lucky find (one could call it an educated guess lol)

- regulus learns that he can actually stand up for himself without his family weighing in and that his whole worldview is in fact a giant with feet of clay. severus that he can lead his life without idly surfing on the consequences of his bad decisions and can change things for the better by acting on them. that’s great. they are doing great. they are fucking terrified for their lifes.

- they end up begrudgingly respecting each other. are they friends? loaded question. perhaps.

- in this au, severus does also report the prophecy to the dark lord, then panics when the potters are brought up. sev and reg pass the information to the order one way or another and this just speeds up their research

- they kill nagini on the sly: it’s a shitshow of epic proportion, but they get away with it bc uh... who would think them able of such a feat? it’s def an highly-trained task force or something. sad that the snake got in the way though :/ (there is no more horcrux, the dark lord is mortal once more)

- who kills voldemort? neither of them. it would be cool, but no. the obvious choice would rather be dumbledore, and why not, in an impressive duel for the ages. personally i would prefer someone from the order, why not one of the youngsters: sirius? remus (a fucking win for the werewolves if it’s the case)? if we are only in 80, why not a peter who has not yet turned traitor lmao? if it’s one of them it’s just totally anti-climatic

- hell yeah! voldemort is trully, trully dead! the one who killed him is hailed as an hero and everybody lived happily ever after! severus and regulus will never have to speak to each other again!

- no.

- the hunt for the death-eaters begins: names are being dropped left and right. regulus doesn’t even go to trial bc he throws money at his problems; severus is not so lucky and gets rounded up in the most stupid way possible, also he thinks he deserves azkaban bc he did some shady shit and likes the martyr vibes reg, who has outgrown his suicidal tendencies: shit i need to save this punk’s ass since he won’t do it himself

- are regulus and his money enough to exonerate severus? perhaps. living with the morale high ground of having brought down the dark lord could be enough to rebuild a decent life for themselves; would they have closure? in a bittersweet way they could

- if it’s not enough, regulus being THAT desperate, he would go to the biggest bully of the playground aka dumbledore. a dumbledore ready to believe that voldemort would be coming back, until this scrawny (almost) 20 years-old goes “nah, we took care of that for you, you are welcome! also, since the whole wizarding world has a debt for us or something, could u pls bail my colleague? friend? out that would be great” albus : ... what?

- i just want a fun reveal; in the future to have regulus talking to his brother, severus to lily (at least for one good talk, i don’t ask for much), just to have that closure pls :’(

- 10 years later or something rita skeeter digs up the whole convulated story it’s glorious. nobody wants that

i don’t have anything else but it was fun to think about

[phoenixyfriend]

De-Aging Akatsuki feat. Team Taka, Indra, Ashura

I’ve vaguely talked about this before but it’s taking up so much space in the pinned post that I figured I should probably make a Concept Post so I can just link it the way I do the rest.

HERE WE GO.

As per usual, this was like 40% @firebirdeternal​.

One day, half of the Akatsuki wake up and go “Huh. We are now much younger than we were yesterday.”

The other half wake up and go “This is not where I was yesterday (which is really twenty years ago, but I do not know that). I shall scream.”

The cause: Ashura and Indra got drunk on Ghost Booze and went “hey, what if we just fucked with Uncle Zetsu’s plans so much that we delayed this entire mess, that would be hilarious, right?”

They then woke up the next morning and went “shit, did we just turn a bunch of international terrorists into children? Shit. SHIT.”

“Dad’s gonna be PISSED.”

Ashura and Indra technically achieved the goal of ‘fuck with Zetsu’s plans enough to delay Kaguya’s return’ but they don’t. Have a plan. For how to fix anything.

Kakuzu is responsible for keeping everything as a whole running, partly because ‘de-aged’ for him means dropping from the age of ninety-ish to forty-ish and nobody can even tell because he’s a living eldritch abomination. Kakuzu went from ‘old’ to ‘slightly less old.’

(Most of the fic is just him being an extremely unhappy babysitter who is mentally tallying up how much money he's going to charge these fuckers once they fix this.)

Half of them have amnesia and the other half are uhhhhhhhhhh useless.

Deidara remembers but is literally a toddler and screams every time Itachi tries to hold him. He has tiny chubby baby hands. There are mouths in those hands, sure, but he’s baby.

Sasori is physically a teenager, which would normally put him at semi-useful, except he’s 900% overwhelmed by every sense except sight.

Hidan, physically six, got arrested at the mall, and Kakuzu’s not bailing him out. Hidan remembers everything but is a font of bad decisions. Mostly I didn’t want to brainstorm what he’s doing so I figured I could just toss him in jail for trying to kill people in public.

Kisame is largely responsible for everyone that is either amnesiac or physically under the age of ten, because Kisame is... idk physically twelve? But he doesn’t have amnesia and he’s not dying of sensation like Sasori, so whoop-de-doo, you’re in charge! Kind of.

Zetsu is the only one completely unaffected, and is going after Orochimaru because he’s convinced it’s the snake’s fault (it’s not).

Zetsu is still Literally Old As Dirt

Zetsu is Sir Not Invited To This Party

Itachi and Obito don’t remember jackshit. Itachi is like Six. Obito is... fourteen? IDK. Post-Kannabi, pre-Rin.

The Ame trio are probably alive, or at least Nagato doesn’t have the pilot-a-corpse piercings so it’s ACTUALLY him and Konan walking around, and also do not remember jackshit. Puts them at 15 or so? Like. Mid-Jiraiya.

I’m erring on the side of all three being alive because I like any opportunity for Yahiko to be like “Dude, what the FUCK did you do when I died? Bro. This is kinda fucked up.”

On the other hand "Nagato, why do you have so many piercings? Why are you piloting Yahiko like--" "I DON'T KNOW."

Zetsu and Kakuzu: I don't know how but this is probably Orochimaru's fault.

Kakuzu wants to go hunt Orochimaru down himself but sends Zetsu instead because somebody needs to keep an eye on this mess

He can't just leave the kids unattended, he tries and they immediately got into the murder implements and those are expensive.

Kakuzu doesn't mind not being his own age again--dropping forty years just means his bones are slightly less creaky, and even that's not much because he's like 83% tentacles anyway--but the toddlers are annoying and MOST OF THE TEAM doesn't even remember being in Akatsuki? It's like Kakuzu and Sasori and Kisame that both have their memories AND the capability to Do Things, and Sasori barely counts. Even Pein and Konan don't remember. TOBI doesn't remember. Kakuzu’s ready to kill something.

“Orochimaru this is clearly your fault, if you were that desperate for more kids then just kidnap them like a normal nukenin, don't de-age these fuckers, do you know how ANNOYING it is?”

PSYCH it’s not

(It’s chakra ghosts.)

Sasori, Obito, and Itachi all arguing over who gets to Take Care Of Deidara.

Sasori because this is HIS dumbass partner, Obito because he's not sure WHY but he feels like this blonde toddler is a FRIEND, and Itachi because Surrogate Little Sibling.

Sasori 100% keeps forgetting to breathe on occasion because What Are Lungs Again?

Hidan is only mentioned in brief passing from TV news segments in the background about a 6 year old who attempted to shiv a police officer.

Like, he went missing and nobody gave a single shit. He can't die anyways, and being a smol has not IMPROVED his already lacking self control, let him be someone else's problem for a while.

Kakuzu's just like "Meh, he'll be fine." "Shouldn't we go find him?" "No. No we should not." "But--" "Kisame. No. Please let me NOT deal with that specific mess until I handle ALL OF THE OTHER MESSES."

"I'm pretty sure he's still immortal, he wouldn't be ranting about Jashin and stabbing people from that close if he WASN'T so just let him get it out of his system." "This--this isn't a TEMPER TANTRUM, he's trying--mostly failing--to slaughter an entire mall. Like. In the middle of Amegakure." "Let the Jounin handle it. Not my problem." "IT WILL BE ONCE PEIN REMEMBERS HE'S IN CHARGE OF YOU AND GETS PISSED THAT YOU LET HIDAN KILL HIS PEOPLE. AME IS OFF LIMITS, OH MY GOD, YOU KNOW THIS."

He keeps trying to murder people? But keeps forgetting he weighs less than a bag of cat food right now and so mostly just shanks ankles and then gets picked up and put in time out.

Time-out is jail.

That's the main reason Kakuzu is content to let the Ame Jounin handle it. They keep tossing this literal child into prison and trying to contact God And His Angel for like. Advice? Because this is weird? “We have an immortal six-year-old in custody and he keeps ranting about a Heretical Deity--because Pein is the true god--and also he kind of looks like one of those S-rank nukenin we're all supposed to ignore if we see them around?”

tbh they keep getting distracted by how Itachi and Obito are insistent on helping take care of baby Dei, who has to be gumming on a teething ring because that’s adorable and also really embarrassing.

Itachi is five years old and incredibly creepy and keeps following around after Obito because Family? He is family, yes? And also insisting on holding Deidara because if Itachi can't take care of bb Sasuke then he's going to find the closest Tiny Thing and hold them.

Obito is like. Just pre-Rin incident. He can walk and stuff but his body is half Hashirama cells and he's covered in scars but he is so amped to see Itachi and Make Friends and hi Yahiko is The Coolest Ever?

He's now running around being an incredibly Naruto older sibling to all the tiny murderers who are smaller than him. Obito is in a certain amount of pain but he is VERY HAPPY that he has, like, company that isn't A Decrepit And Megalomaniacal Uchiha Elder and Creepy Zetsu Clones. (Zetsu himself is very frustrated by this and cannot show it.)

Obito puts Deidara on his knee and bounces him and Deidara doesn't have the muscle control to TALK but he's internally seething like What the fuck? You're tolerable? Why aren't you this tolerable when I'm a Grown-Ass Adult?

Deidara retains his full personality but is also a lumpy potato and cannot express any of it.

Additional running gag: Baby Deidara keeps trying to make things blow up and keeps getting stopped by safety-conscious Obito who babyproofed the hideout. Obito doesn't realize AT ALL that Deidara is upset for "I want to blow shit up" reasons and not "I want to touch the pretty thing" reasons.

Itachi would absolutely find a Bingo Book that people are trying to keep away from The Members That Don't Remember. He finds his own entry. I’m not sure what he does about it. He’s five, so probably he goes to Obito and cries on him a bunch.

Obito has Mangekyo and has NO IDEA how he got it. - He sinks through the floor by accident at one point because nobody, like, thought to warn him that was a thing that could happen

"Hey guys, does anyone know why there's like hundreds of unconscious, naked, identical men in the basement? Asking for a friend."

Zetsu: Don't worry about it. Kakuzu: What the hell, we should absolutely worry about that, why are there hundreds of naked men in the basement? Are we feeding them? How much of the miscellaneous spending is being wasted on someone's weird harem fantasy?

Honestly though I'm really super enamored with "Itachi is super duper careful with Deidara and is Very Serious about babysitting and Kisame keeps sneaking pictures while Sasori like. Panics."

Sasori isn't used to emotions. Or adrenaline. Or stress hormones. Sasori is having a lot of trouble and not entirely useless, but very, very easily overwhelmed. He doesn't like showers because it's sensory hell but also the only people willing to help him out with the option of a sponge bath are Kisame and Obito and it's just. Hella awkward? Sasori is overwhelmed and spends most of his time asleep because it's Less.

He went from almost no bodily reactions straight back into puberty, he can't control this crap at all. He’s also trying to figure out if he has, like, allergies?

Itachi: I want to hold the baby. Deidara, the baby: [screams]

If Deidara is held by Obito or Itachi, he's screaming. Deidara is happiest with Sasori, will put up with the Ame trio or Kisame, but he Does Not Like the Uchiha, which is a pity because both of them love babysitting.

Deidara does eventually calm down a bit because neither of them actually REMEMBER pissing him off and also Itachi's like. Super? Sweet? In a creepy-little-fucker way, but.

Nagato takes the time to tell Kakuzu that there are ghosts following them all, actually, and their names are Indra and Ashura and they’re really sorry about this but they got drunk on Ghost Sake and accidentally turned all his teammates into babies, whoops, sorry about that, they can totally pay you back later for babysitting the lot of them even though they’re dead and have been for centuries, yeah?

Indra and Ashura do not have access to Money but they also don’t know how to fix this and need somebody to look after a problem that’s technically their fault.

Might be a little “Ghost of Christmas Past” or whatever.

Kakuzu turns around and it's like Hi this is Indra and Ashura they're here to tell you that if you don't kill Uncle Zetsu for them they're going to keep your entire organization like this forever and also haunt you and no you can't leave

Just Coerce Kakuzu Into Killing Zetsu, It's Fine

(this was not the plan)

(Ashura and Indra are not acknowledging how completely sideways this entire situation has gone)

(WE TOTALLY MEANT TO DO THIS)

"Not only will doing this stop you personally from being annoyed, it'll incidentally save the entire world! On which you live! So there's two selfish motivations for you!"

Indra was probably just like drifting around to follow Itachi because Like Okay I Guess I Care About This Dude And Being Stuck Inside Sasuke's Soul Is Depressing

(Itachi's life is also depressing but like a DIFFERENT kind of depressing so at least he's less bored)

Ashura was following Indra because sometimes you Just Gotta Annoy Your Bro

Indra was complaining about how Itachi used to be So Cute And Innocent even if he was a creepy little fucker and the bros got spirit drunk and next thing you know all of Akatsuki is Baby. Not like Fully Baby, except Deidara

But like Baby

They planned none of this but they SURE ARE GOING TO PRETEND THEY DID Genius Ninja Ghosts who aren't making this up as they go along, no! What gave you that idea?! (Now we know where Naruto/Sasuke get it from)

Ashura: I got drunk and did something ridiculous and TBH it was Indra's fault for leaving me unsupervised Indra: I TURNED AROUND FOR TWO MINUTES Ashura: And if you'd paid any attention to what Hashirama and Naruto were like, or what I myself was like as a child, you'd have noticed that-- Indra: WE'VE BEEN DEAD FOR A THOUSAND YEARS HOW DID YOU EVEN MANAGE THIS

Nagato just goes to Kakuzu like "I am seeing the long-dead. They claim to have caused this entire mess and also that the only way to end the torture is to kill Zetsu." "W-what." "One of them says he was part of Hashirama and can prove it if you need him to. He remembers exactly how you tried to kill him." "What."

Nagato: I see dead people Kakuzu: I'm too old for this shit.

Also Kakuzu: Okay. Okay I can do this. I can kill the plant bastard. How much are you paying me? Ashura: ..... what do you mean how much?! Kakuzu: I don't work for free. Period. Ashura: [starts to moralize at him about the fate of the world] Kakuzu: You don't get it. How Much Indra: [phases under the couch] Ten ryou? Kakuzu: .... that and fix the idiots and you've got yourself a hired killer. Ashura: !?!??

Alternately Indra: I can tell you where to find ancient treasures that a Daimyo might pay out the nose for?

But I like the idea that he's so desperate to fix the others and also kind of does want to save the world since he lives on it, but it's a matter of principle. No Free Work, Ever. And yes that is a hill he is prepared to die on, it's probably the only hill he's prepared to die on

Kakuzu, day one: Killing Zetsu should be easy. Kakuzu, week three: Nagato, I need you to tell these dead people to go fuck themselves, this is impossible

He ends up tallying up all the Zetsus he kills as individual completions of the contract. At ten ryou a piece he estimates that he's going to crack at least a few hundred k off of this job. It's the only thing that keeps him going.

Single Dad Kakuzu Attempting To Assassinate Some Black Goop

Kakuzu: Okay what if I just blow up the entire continent, that'll probably get them all....? Wait fuck, I can't do that, all my investments are on this continent. I need to look into funding some mercantile efforts to find a new continent so I can diversify in case of situations like this in the future.

Indra: I will give you an extra five ryou if you blow up the Gedou Mazou statue. Kakuzu: Then you shouldn't have turned Deidara into a literal infant.

Indra: I will give you an extra ten ryou if you find some way to destroy it anyway. Ashura: I could revert Deidara early? Indra, sotto voce: Have you even figured out how to do that yet? Ashura: Uh. No. I have not.

They are very lucky that Nagato is translating for them.

(A fun possible ending for this scenario is that Kakuzu somehow does manage to kill Zetsu, by subcontracting out the hit to a few additional people (The Heroes Team and works alongside them) and then presents them a bill for several million yen and reverted teammates. Which they then have to admit to being unable to pay.) (Kakuzu now has to figure out if it is possible to kill immortal reincarnating ghosts, because if it is, he's gonna.)

Ashura: I will TOTALLY turn your friends back into adults if you do this for us. Ashura, five minutes later: Indra, help me figure out how to turn these jerks back into Adults.

Sasuke and co. show up to kill Itachi and Kakuzu is just like Great! You're babysitting.

Sasuke: Wait wh-- Kakuzu: You're not getting paid because you broke the door so instead of charging you for repairs, you can watch over your brother. Sasuke: Why would I--WHY IS ITACHI FIVE

Kakuzu becomes Everyone's Annoying Uncle completely by accident.

Because he's determined not to kill any of these people until or unless he figures out how to get paid for this shit, and if either of the two brats (Naruto and Sasuke) dies he'll have no lead at all on how to find the current incarnation of the Ghost Bastards who Stiffed Him.

Juugo: I can't do this. Kisame: Why not? Kids are easy to-- Juugo: I literally cannot do this I will end up accidentally killing a child please lock me up in one of your bijuu-proof rooms I cannot emphasize how necessary this is if you want these babies to survive.

Speaking of Kisame and Juugo: Juugo: I absorb chakra and when I get too full I berserk. Kisame: Oh, is that all? Here pet my sword for a while. Juugo: ...what Kisame: It's a bit pointy but it likes to be stroked, and it'll eat your excess.

It's just a very pointy cat to Juugo.

Suigetsu: Hey, I wanted to collect the swords. Juugo: [is literally cuddling Samehada] Suigetsu: Give me the pointy cat

Juugo ends up being the best babysitter, so long as he gets to swordsit too.

Suigetsu babysitting is that one photo of Chris Hemsworth playing with his kids on the beach and just like. Holding out a toddler by the ankle.

Sasuke is the RDJ kind of childcare like once he parses that this is Baby Itachi Who Has Done Nothing Wrong Ever he's just like Panic Cuddling Nobody Touch Itachi

"Weren't you trying to kill him like five days ago." "SHUT UP HE CAN'T KNOW THAT"

Karin finds Nagato and is just like "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh shit I think we're related maybe?" He's a teenager probably

Someone wants to seduce Sasori. I'm not sure who. First instinct is Yahiko but he is tragically in love with Konan still.

That said, Suigetsu is very gay and made of bad decisions, so that’s honestly plausible, so long as he doesn’t succeed.

I can see a few people wanting to seduce Sasori, but I honestly feel like his response to all of that would be “ew.” Honestly his response in this specific context is "Get out of my room the noise is giving me a headache"

The only acceptable Noises are "plans to fix this mess" and "Deidara is literally incapable of self-care and has to baby-cry for things like food and nappies." He probably has noise-sensitivity to the sound of his own blood moving around his body, at least for a while.

"I wish Itachi remembered adulthood so he could just cast a genjutsu on Sasori to cut off like 95% of sensation, this would be SO MUCH EASIER if he could."

If Sasori's alive then is Tobi even like. Known to the rest of the organization.

I'm already ignoring canon in favor of "asshole roommates" fanon so It truly Does Not Matter

It's the crack version of Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Like, if someone comes into a story like this expecting Detailed Canon Parallels and Thoroughly Articulated Plot Points Justifying Every Deviation then I don't know what to tell them when they're disappointed

Ashura, repeatedly poking Nagato: Hey hey I need you to do a thing hey Nagato hey buddy dude pal hey hey hey my boy hey Nagato: WHAT Ashura: Can you tell Obito that The Incident with the Sanbi was Zetsu and Madara's fault? Nagato: What incident? Ashura: I can't tell you because if he knows it happened at all then he's gonna go nuts and start killing people, maybe. Nagato: What.

Indra: Madara and Zetsu-ji killed the girl Obito was in love with and Obito went insane and became a supervillain as a result Nagato: What the fuck

Indra: I mean, to be fair, they did the same thing to you? Kind of? Just your best friend instead of your romantic-- Nagato: WHAT THE FUCK

[think-thonkin]

So I need to dump some thoughts on the upcoming MH live action movie

I've ranted about this in the tags of someone reposting the teaser/trailer onto here earlier this week but there's generally so many odd, if not outright negative creative decisions this movie has been making, it's kind of baffling.

Lagoona, Cleo and Deuce honestly being the most egregious imho.

First of all- the color blue is literally part of Lagoona's name, I genuinely do not understand why the creative decision to keep her skin tone that of a regular human was made when so many of the other characters can sport non-human skintones just fine-

My best guess is that she will be shown in water most of the time and having to do makeup to that extend and make it waterproof is quite a feat they may not have been willing to commit to, but it still sucks to see that they apparently couldn't find a better solution than this. At least they kept to her athletic clothing style and some of the fins I guess (give her webbed hands you cowards).

Now to the more egregious ones...

Cleo's main character flaw is supposed to be that she's outwardly arrogant and vain because she has not only one hell of a family reputation to uphold being royalty and all, but is literally a walking, rotten corpse, with the bandages all over her tied into her outfit to cover up the parts of her that aren't "perfect" - she is overcompensating outwardly and immaturely like the self conscious teenager she is, opting for taught, toxic behavior that is part of her natural character arc to overcome! Deep down she is supposed to be a kind and caring friend whose superficial behavior speaks more of nurture than nature and repeatedly does tend to hurt her friendships until she learns to express her care and genuine love for the people she's close to in healthier ways.

To see the live action movie with next to no bandages on her whatsoever feels like such a massive cheapening of her character - they stand for so much more than a decorative choice! Unless they humble her to a sympathizable level in some other way (because she is supposed to be part of the main friend-group's cast, not the actual school bully bitch like I'm afraid they'll make her out to be in this movie) this seems like a terrible decision to me, especially since, like this, she's not even recognizable as a mummy anymore.

Not to mention the implications of this movie potentially shuffling romantic dynamics around, so if Deuce's kind nature and loyalty to her isn't there to keep her grounded, challenge her taught, arrogant attitude and bring out her genuine, caring and kind side more, then how the hell are they gonna make her sympathetic to the viewer at all?

Speaking of Deuce-

I really disapprove of the decision to make him just some flavorless brand of bad boy aesthetic with green hair instead of a supernatural punk that sports preferably sleeveless clothes (shows of muscles! Hell yeah! He's a very sporty and athletically committed guy!) who, despite some tense family issues, maintains a friendly, warm personality that purposefully contrasts his more intimidating appearance.

The snake-hawk he sports in non-live action media is his most recognizable feature besides the eyes that are usually hidden behind sunglasses for the sake of protecting others from (temporarily) turning into stone and seeing that both the sunglasses were replaced with (seemingly) regular glasses and the snake hair omitted entirely, this movie imo failed at making him recognizable beyond the color scheme.

It just feels way too tame- they didn't even have to do it in CG, they literally could they not have just. Made some sfx prosthetics or sth? I'd have preferred some silly, bouncy, low-effort silicone snakes for hair over just. Dying this basic, designated "hot" boy haircut that's mostly hidden under a beanie anyways in green.

Obviously I cannot expect a nickelodeon musical production of a franchise that is in it's early reboot stages and thus likely does not have the biggest budget to fully cushion out huge projects like this, but this still makes it feel like this adaptation was made based on surface level research of the characters instead of putting actual thought into them.

I do admit that having Frankie be nonbinary makes absolute perfect sense for their character, since they are literally made up of multiple people's body parts that were painstakingly stitched together and artificially given life, but considering the thoughtlessness of some of the other creative choices (also why are there no bolts on Frankie's neck? They have to recharge regularly, don't they?) this is something that honestly kind of confuses me.

This is clearly a creative choice with thought behind it, but this also makes the quality of other creative choices for the other characters super inconsistent? I'm just. You'll make a character nonbinary to fit their essential identity and the setting's themes of a school full of weirdos (affectionate) with vastly different kinds of individuals better but won't give Cleo a defining character trait that is directly connected to who she is both as a monster type as well as a person and plays a big part in how she acts? WHAT

(though it is obviously still super appreciated to see one of the main protagonists be openly and very directly stated to use they/them pronouns, that's a bold move to push for and have executed, especially for a nickelodeon production of all things)

Monster High has a history of tying parts of its characters' personalities into the character's design elements, and seeing some of the more crucial details erased like this is a really bad sign for me.

Between some great ideas there's just too much wasted potential visible in that trailer and those teaser images... it's really unfortunate.

Despite definitely being a cash cow franchise made to sell dolls, there was a lot of genuine heart and effort put into these characters and into making them unique - because was that not the whole point behind Monster High in the first place? A cast full of colorful, unique individuals, all so fundamentally different in what type of monster they are, what their upbringing means to them, what their goals in their timeframe of existence are - and yet they find common ground, friendship, love... acceptance.

There's also the obvious cheesy teen drama charme, but a lot of the past stories involving these characters still managed to also have so much genuine heart and thoughtful, sweet messages about individualism and identity and the importance of trust and loyal friendships in this social setting where being different on a superficial level is not considered bad thing by default. That's the kind of thing people want to connect to, this desire to belong and be accepted regardless of what you look like and identify as, because it's your personality and actions that count.

I never expected nor asked for this movie to be 1:1 accurate to the dolls in any capacity, but it does bum me out that the costume designs make me feel like the people behind it don't actually understand the characters they were creating these outfits and makeup concepts for.

[bionicparrot]

Fresh Start - Plot Drabble

It had been a few weeks now since that night at the hospital. There was a lot of discussion between the director of the hospital and Dr. Baak. In the end despite no evidence of any wrongdoing Triage’s contract with the hospital was cut. 

The board just couldn’t take the bad press that came from the protestors outside that made their point known. Robot’s should not be in charge of the medical needs of humans. Bad press meant less donations after all. It was all business and the news of a robot performing medical feats like she did was old news. Besides, most robots were recycled soon after they started to slip in their duties. 

The news stung. It hurt so badly that Tri had locked herself in her room for two days just to process it all. Being left alone with her thoughts, and the occasional ping from her family to make sure she was okay, allowed her to fully process everything. 

It was surprising to her how often she thought back on Magnet’s words when she confessed to him. 

“Have faith in your decision. It’s for the good of our kind.”

Was it? Of course he’d think that he was a DWN. Still, did his alliance really make that statement any less true? Did it matter? In the end it did bring her some comfort, and from one of the last places she expected. 

There were times she didn’t realize she was playing back the memory of that conversation when her frustration and sorrow started to well. Perhaps it was to make up for the fact that she couldn’t tell her siblings the truth. Even her mother didn’t know for sure what happened that night at the hospital and it would stay that way for the good of the family. 

To be honest a canceled contract wasn’t as terrible a fate as it could have been. It was far better than being decommissioned. Plus the money owed from them canceling earlier went into her lab. 

It would have to be a fresh start. She felt like she needed a fresh start after the past few years. Still she was a little nervous about the change seeing as her mother had started to push her to work on her primary function before the hospital board made its decisions. It was supposed to remain downplayed. It wasn’t good for a robot to draw too much attention to themselves. 

There wasn’t too much choice. There were bills to pay and those bills kept her and her family alive. Besides, her mother had already contracted new work for her.. The papers on the order was left on Tri’s desk a few days ago for her to go through when she felt like it. 

Today was finally the day. 

Her fingers gently gripped the corner of the folder and opened it slowly to reveal the paperwork inside. It was such a large order. Still she smiled slightly when she read over it. 

Scanning over the documents brought her an excitement for work she thought she had lost years ago. Maybe Magnet was right and this was for the best.  She would have to thank him and Snake later. 

[pixiesdontlieido]

Characters like Voldemort, Horace Slughorn, Severus Snape, among others, displayed many attributes of Slytherin that made them better wizards than most. There’s also the fact that Slytherin House has feats and achievements that people from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw didn’t match, and it’s worth looking into how Slytherin may just be the best House. Go online try to find some articles out there that claim to show why Slytherin is the best house. You won’t be able to find many that are good. You can see they aren’t very deep and don’t have very genuine reasons. Some of are even biased and say that Slytherins are evil.

When an 11-year-old boy is chanting ‘NOT SLYTHERIN! NOT SLYTHERIN!’ endlessly into a Sorting Hat, you may get the impression that this Hogwarts house has an iffy reputation.

Slytherins are encouraged to bend the rules and express themselves, so you can get away with a lot more than any other house. Even if you get caught, Snape will bail you out and place the blame on innocent students in Gryffindor.

The Slytherin common room is located behind a wall in the Hogwarts dungeons, and the decor is filled with skulls, snakes, and green-tinted light. This sounds infinitely better than having to converse with a temperamental Fat Lady every time you want to chill with your housemates.

Slytherin’s most dominant trait is ambition, and as everyone knows, ambition is the biggest key to success. You don’t really see any duds coming out of this house (cough Hufflepuff cough), so even if some of the members can be a little twisted, at least they’re making something of themselves.

Unlike Gryffindor’s garish red and gold colors, Slytherin’s green and silver are dark, elegant, and mysterious. The Slytherins are the only ones who look good in their school robes, and honestly, what’s more important than appearance?

Let’s be real: Gryffindor’s ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, is rather annoying. Slytherin's ghost, on the other hand, is multidimensional and infinitely more interesting. The Bloody Baron is the only one who can control Peeves, so that’s one more nuisance you can avoid.

Before Harry arrived at Hogwarts, Slytherin won both the House Cup and Quidditch Cup almost every single year, and after Harry left, I’ll bet they started winning everything again. Yes, Snape favored them a little, but that can only get you so far! Slytherin obviously has the talent too.

Just because most of the Slytherins we got to know in the series were pathetic, evil human beings does not mean that all Slytherins are.

Harry Potter is only 11 years old when Hagrid tells him that wizards who go bad are often Slytherins. And he believes him, even though Hagrid is frequently wrong (Aragog, anyone?). Later, Harry meets Ron Weasley, who reaffirms this anti-Slytherin propaganda and convinces him to settle for literally any other house. In the same way that Republicans and Democrats often make sweeping generalizations about each other, I think Gryffindors just love talking smack about Slytherin (and vice versa). It's the thing to do. Meanwhile, you never catch Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff coming at each other. Maybe if we weren't introduced to bitter Gryffindors at the beginning of Harry Potter, we'd think positively about Slytherin house.

The sorting hat places Harry in Slytherin but our hero thinks he knows better in his first week as a wizard. And we're talking 1991, before Google and school websites could give him an unbiased understanding of house characteristics. So he's heard the term Slytherin maybe three times, and feels confident making a decision that will affect him for the next seven years.

He even double checks a year later and the sorting hat is like, "yup, I stand by my decision." I don't know when we started unquestionably trusting the judgment of preteen boys, but I think that means the savior of the entire wizarding world is technically a Slytherin. Which would suggest that greatness and Slytherin go hand in hand.

I’ll stop now as I’m in a class. But I’m not done yet, and I shall return with Why Slytherin is The Best.

[joontier]

The King’s Guard | Chapter 1

pairings: kim seokjin x reader; jeon jungkook x reader

series rating: R (18+) | genre: historical drama au!; king seokjin! au; established relationship! au; royalty! au!; 

warnings: non-graphic mentions of an abuse by Y/N’s stepmama; mentions of death; ANGST; horny ass jinnie and y/n; groping; unprotected sex bc condoms werent invented yet; fingering; edging if ya squint; impregnation kink; voyeurism; oral m and f receiving; slight degradation; good god i have never written this much filth in my life, brb gotta go to church;

word count:  6.3k

g/n: hEY HEY HEY BACK WITH THE SMUT YALL; anywho a few disclaimers before u read this sweetie, YES, its Jung Jungkook for a reason, you’ll see soon enough ;) also,,,, there might be a few korean words thrown in there but ya know context clues or u could search them up too if u want,,,, but i’ll also be placing them at the end of this post for ya <3 P.S. this is also going to turn into a series y’aLLLL GAHHHH

The King’s Guard - Masterlist  ||  navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 1

It’s with Seokjin’s relentless pounding from behind you that you figure that the council meeting probably didn’t go well today. You’ve discovered that times of intimacies like these were a way to relieve himself of the stresses of being a newly pronounced king. Not that you were complaining though.

His fingers find your clit with practiced ease, rubbing at sensitive nub with great fervor. Seokjin’s punishing thrusts become slower as you both reached your highs, his cock falling limp shortly after he pulls out of you. Reaching over to the nearby table, he grabs a towel and dips it on the bowl of water, wiping away traces of his climax between your thighs. He pulls up his pants previously bunched in his ankles and arranges the rest of his durumagi, removing any possible evidence of your quick fuck.

“Council meeting went bad?” you asked, rubbing at your numbing forearms due to your husband’s forceful movements against the table he’d fucked you against. Seokjin briefly throws a sheepish look your way, guessing  you have finally figured out his nasty antics of de-stressing, but his beautiful face turns serious as he once again reminded of his responsibilities as king.

“Well with Minseok’s recent death, the dried-up lands in the far east, and an uprising rebellion in the south, I can’t say the meeting went particularly…peaceful,” Seokjin heaves a sigh and rests his hands on his knees.

Minseok was a trusted royal guard, serving Seokjin’s family for nearly all his life and had perished due to an attack during a visit to the southern city. While Minseok’s death caused a great loss in the palace, his blood symbolized the initial step towards an uprising, spurring on the southern troops even further.

With your back facing him, you felt remorseful as your hand subconsciously reaches for the south’s emblem given by your father, hidden beneath the thick collar of your hanbok – a harsh reminder that you were once from the southern palace – and yet you couldn’t do anything to help your king.

It was one thing being only half royalty and another being the only heir to the throne. After multiple tries, prayer movements, and endless offerings, the real queen of the south proved to be infertile and could not bear a child for the king. In the past however, a childless monarch proved to be an advantage to those who attempted to overthrow the throne. Hence your biological father, the king, decided that he needed to have an heir at once. However, the only other lady your dad would trust with such great feat is the head court lady, your mom, who became the king’s only concubine – ergo, your coming into this world.

Your father acknowledged you as his daughter the moment he heard your first cry as a newborn, much to the queen’s repressed opposition. She knew she had no other choice but to give in to your father’s recognition, but her display of hatred for you never stopped at your birth. Your life was an endless tale of narrow escapes from her atrocities.

On the bright side, you maintained a healthy relationship with your father, he taught you how to read and write, he showed you the ins and outs of the city, gave you your first archery lesson, and even taught you a thing or two about politics and diplomacy. You were well-founded for a girl your age, considering that women in your society were only perceived to be bearers of children and raisers of the young instead of hitting sack targets on a moving horse and being deployed on diplomatic affairs.

Life was almost perfect if it weren’t for your very promising antagonist of stepmother. The rest of the palace, your father included, regarded her as your stepmother, but she never came close to being a motherly figure in your life. Quite frankly, you knew she wanted you dead even before you grew a heart – probably the only reason why she wasn’t blessed with a child. The two-headed snake deserved it.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only victim of her cruelty. As you grew up, you knew she was bound to get worse, it didn’t come as much of a shock when you heard of her plans to murder your father and your biological mother. What you didn’t expect though that the breakfast you’d shared with your father that morning was the last time you’ll ever see him.

You fled from the palace that night, bumping into Seokjin as you exited the gates of the palace. He recognizes your face from previous council meetings and have been acquainted with each other as members of royalty, but he’s never seen you in such a state of distress. Before he could ask you why you were running away from the palace at such hour, you mounted his horse and pleaded to him to take you anywhere else but your home – your previous home.

One look at your tear-stained face was all he needed and he turned his horse around, despite questioning looks he got from his guards. He had brought you back to the capital and took you in the palace. Soon friends turned to lovers and the rest is history.

Seokjin notices your silence and he’s come up from the edge of the bed to envelop you in his arms. “A frown isn’t fitting for a queen,” he takes your chin between his fingers and turns your face towards him. “What’s wrong, love?” he asks, confused by the frown drawn upon your face.

“I just…” you start off, but when your fingers find the cold metal of the necklace, you fall silent again. Seokjin sighs as he finally catches on your despondence and gives you a tighter hug and a fleeting kiss on the forehead.

For once in a long time, you felt like it was just the two of you again alone in the room, alone in the world. Just two lovers, no treacherous stepmothers, no responsibilities, no nation to take care of. Your mind races back to the memories of you sneaking out of the palace to your agreed rendezvous or walking to your secret garden to talk about your daily endeavors. Seokjin made this cruel world more bearable and you will always be eternally grateful for that. He would always shower you with the greatest support and understanding, fully aware of what you have been deprived of during your childhood.

Seokjin on one hand feels equally thankful to have you enter his life, to have you as his wife. He had always admired your knowledge in various things and he frequently shows fondness for your wit in a very remarkable way – like that one time he had brought you to a council meeting to share your ideas (a taboo in the culture – seeing as women weren’t cut in making political decisions) and called an advisor an imbecile for suggesting a huge increase in taxes when a fourth of the city was struggling with famine. Needless to say, Seokjin found the sight of you standing up to his advisors more than arousing so he had sent everyone home at once and two minutes after everyone had left, he already had you bent over his desk, fucking you into oblivion.

Your husband leaves shortly after taking a few scrolls from the shelves before inviting you to dinner, winking as he leaves your room, telling you that he has specially requested the kitchen to cook your favorite dish for dinner tonight. You take a bath during your husband’s absence, indulging yourself in a milk bath, while the servants scrub at your back and arms. As a child, the southern palace only afforded you cold baths with the heat in the south constantly unbearable but mainly because the queen was adamant on treating you badly. She’d made sure you regularly bathe in cold ones, even worse during the winter. You couldn’t keep count of the times you had to be rescued back to life by the court ladies after nearly shivering to death.

The servants take their leave as they’ve scrubbed most of the expanse of skin you’ve exposed for them to exfoliate and you sink further into the pool, a variety of petals floating around and about as you create ripples with your hands.

“My Queen,” a court lady bows her head as she enters your chambers. “The King requests your presence for the inauguration of the new king’s guards,” she informs, not meeting your eyes as you wear your undergarments. You give her a hum of approval and wait for the servants to finish braiding your hair so you could accompany your husband during the ceremony.

You can feel the pebbles under your shoes move with the steady beat of the drums. The inauguration was supposed to be held a few more months later but because of the death of Minseok, the ceremony had to be moved to an earlier date. You were about to turn the corner when the someone in torn, ragged clothes ran in front of you, your guards ushering you backwards to protection. With two watchmen already following the man, two from your group follow to see what the scurry is all about.

The remaining guards that are with you lead you towards the field quickly to evade any further commotion. When you reach where Seokjin is situated, he acknowledges you briefly, worry swimming in his eyes. You place a comforting hand on his to assure him that there is nothing to be worried about. Once you have settled in your seat, a guard comes up to Seokjin’s side and the drums stop. “Your Royal Highnesses, King Seokjin and the Queen.” Your husband raises a hand to acknowledge the crowd surrounding the field, all present to witness the ceremony.

“Let the inauguration of the new royal guards begin.”

The drums fall into a steady rhythm once again, men clad in red and white silk uniforms pile in groups of twenty. Applause falls within the crowd, hands busy clapping for the newly inducted protectors of the palace. You see a few girls displaying themselves by the corner where the guards enter the field. They mask their flirtatious looks under the guise of modesty, covering their powdered faces with fans while sending coquettish looks to the guards.

Seokjin lets out a chuckle when he follows your line of vision and you reply deftly “I don’t blame them. I’d definitely do the same when you’re in your uniform.” You try your best not to wink at your husband especially at a public gathering like this, but your witty effort to get him to stop judging you has proved to be effective. You know he is most likely going to punish you about this tonight and the idea already has you squirming in your seat.

“My King, may I present to you the new captain of the royal guards, Jung Jungkook of the east.” A man from the first row steps forward. “My King, my Queen.” He acknowledges your presence, bowing from the waist. Jung Jungkook drops to the ground, his weight resting on one leg. He draws his sword, plunges it to the ground – the sound of metal slicing through the soil ringing throughout the field. “I am Jung Jungkook from the Jung clan of the east. My father has served the royal family for many years and has perished terribly during the attack of the South. I am here to restore the honor to my family by serving your highness, to serve the capital, and to avenge my late father.” His head is hung low, yet he is breathing heavily, the weight of his emotions too heavy on his shoulders.

Seokjin leans forward, “Your father has fought well and there is no greater honor than to die for the safety of your countrymen. I am glad he has a son to continue the legacy of your family. Stand, Jung Jungkook, for I know your father’s soul is now at peace.” The man complies and speaks, “Long live King Seokjin, long live the capital!” The rest of the two hundred men follow suit. The citizens join in on the cheering but your eyes linger on the new captain and the faded scar on his left cheek.

The turmoil in the south has worsened during the past few weeks. You rarely see your husband nowadays, constantly trapped for hours on end inside the four walls of his office. You can feel the pressure of being the king taking its toll on him. The servants tell you that he barely touches his food and that your husband also always comes in late at night and leaves early at dawn to work. It’s bringing you great worry that Seokjin couldn’t properly take care of himself nowadays.  

Your attempts to aide him during these stressful times prove to be futile, especially with his damned advisors who keep on barring you from entering his office or attending the council meetings. It is believed anyways that the queen only tends to matters of the royal household and that women have no right to give counsel. Unfortunately for them, you are no ordinary queen nor are you just a queen. You are also the wife of your beloved husband and a handful of stubborn councilmen has never stopped you before.

While the royal advisors are busy wasting too much time on a singular issue, you went out on your own to witness the effects of the famine of the east. Most of the crops that were delivered throughout the country was produced in the east because of their healthy soil and the waters surrounding the city. When a month has passed and there were still no signs of rain in the east, you know this was going to cause a huge problem and eventually another predicament for Seokjin. You had lived long enough in the onerous south to witness problems like this turn into bigger ones.

You have made arrangements to visit the city and so far, your plan going smoothly as planned. You manage to sneak out of the royal seamstress’ room after paying her a decent amount of silver coins for a commoner’s dress. It’s getting late and your husband will be returning to your room soon so you trudge back a little faster just to make it in time. When you reach the back door to your room, you see two guards lounging stand up abruptly at your presence. “M-my q-queen,” he bows, not meeting your eyes. “It’s alright. Just don’t tell anybody.”

Seokjin enters the room just when you’re stood in front of the mirror, hands removing the pins from your head. He slides the wooden door gently and sends you a small smile through the reflection on your mirror. “Why don’t I help you with that?” You gently decline his offer, not wanting to bother your exhausted king with any more chores. It’s unfair how he is still impeccably handsome even with the weariness evident on his face. Seokjin still insists though, claiming that a king’s functions should not be an excuse to escape those of a husband’s. “And besides, I ought to know how to do this if we’ll have a daughter in the future.” The statement was supposed to be a genuine shot at what the future might hold but your body’s treacherous response is far from the innocence of Seokjin’s statement.

Just the thought of it has heat pooling in your abdomen. You haven’t had enough time in your hands to spend time to think about things like that, Seokjin being a newly-crowned king, more so as a newly-wedded couple.

Your husband notices the deep breath you take, his eyes slowly getting darker by the second. He takes the last golden pin from your braids, letting your hair fall into loose waves. You feel relieved when the strain on your scalp melts away in seconds – something that you should’ve been used to by now, considering that you have been royalty all your life, but nothing beats that fresh wave of relief when you free your hair from all the pins and ribbons. That’s why when Seokjin cards his fingers through your locks, you feel the rising of the small hairs at the back of your neck, such mundane action bordering on sensual.

He does this a few more times in silence, just combing through your hair gently, deeming that seeing you fall into such comfort like this is enough for him. His chaste intentions though are all thrown aside when you lean against him, your undone hanbok falls from your shoulder, exposing the skin there in all its glory. Your husband takes all your hair and transfers it on your left shoulder and you tilt your head to the same side, giving him space where he could pepper all his kisses on.

He murmurs sweet nothings against your skin while sending fleeting kisses from your ear’s helix, to your cheek, you jawline then down to your shoulders. “Little you and me running around…” he murmurs while pushing the rest of your hanbok off your body. It doesn’t take much effort, the silken cloth sliding down easily and now you’re just left in your undergarments.

“Would you like that, my queen?” Seokjin asks, fingers thumbing the ribbon that’s keeping together the last layer of clothing you have on. It takes only one breathy ‘yes’ from you and the cloth covering your intimacies falls altogether, leaving no trace of modesty.

He cups both breasts in each palm, squeezing and kneading the flesh. Your nipples are firm, already hardened by the worshipping kisses he places all over. He trails a finger along your jaw, turning your face toward him. His lips meet yours, plump lips pressing gently against your own. When you figure he’s about to pull away, he grips your ass and you gasp, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into the kiss, your heart thudding hard against your ribcage. It’s been too long since you had seen your husband so… sensual. Usually, you’re both in a rush with the sole intent of getting some release but tonight, it seems as if Seokjin is determined to take his time in claiming all of you in the most intimate of ways, slowly but surely like it’s the last night of his life.

Seokjin savors every moan, every whimper as his deft fingers roam your body. He loves every curve and dip; how soft and taut it is at the same time. The milk baths you’ve always indulged in and your younger days of archery and horse riding had definitely done you good. He tries to etch them all into his memory though he knows flashes of images of you in his brain could never give justice to the reality of having you in his arms.

His fingers reach your cunt and he cups it, making you lean further against him for support. You feel the fine sheen of sweat of his torso on his back and for a moment you wonder how he’s managed to take his to take his top off without taking a hand off you. He pulls you away from your thoughts when he tugs you closer to him, shamelessly grinding his erection against your ass. He finds your clit easily through memory, rubbing the sensitive nub, fingers moving slowly in circular motions.

“S-seokjin please,” you beg, knowing you’re nearly there but still so far away, far too greedy to orgasm on clitoral stimulation alone. You needed him inside you. Now. “Speak up, my love,” he orders, shallowly dipping a finger in your cunt and withdrawing it just as quick. “Please. Y-you. Need y- “You’re rendered breathless by his teasing, your hand traveling to tug at his hair. “You want me to put a baby in you, hmm?” He finally pushes a finger in. “You’d love that don’t you? Having to carry the next heir to the throne inside you?” Another finger breaches you, Seokjin chuckling when you let out a loud gasp.

He nips at the shell of your ear, reminding you of the presence of the guards outside in a low whisper. Your hand instantly moves to cover your mouth but Seokjin grabs you by the wrists. “Who told you to cover your mouth, hmm? We both know you want the whole palace to hear how filthy their queen is.” Seokjin must admit, the whole idea is just as pleasing to him as it is to you. You were practically squelching when his fingers quicken the pace, your orgasm coming to you at breakneck speed. The feeling of his fingers toying with your cunt too much for you to handle that you are unable to stop your lover’s name fall like a prayer on your lips. Your whole body trembles in his grip, legs threatening to give in. A whimper escapes you when he pulls his fingers out, sending him a glare through the mirror. You were so, so close.

“My love, as much as I enjoy seeing you wrecked under my touch through the mirror, we have to take this to the bed.” He gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek and tugs at your arm, but you stand your ground. You wag a finger at him, ‘tsk’-ing at his impatience. Not until he’d have a taste of his own medicine.

You let your finger trail along his torso, tracing the outlines of his abdominals. Imitating your husband’s  earlier torturous ministrations, you take your time with him, reveling in how much you’ve affected him – how his breathing is getting more labored by the second. You run a finger along the length of his shaft still covered by his pants. He’s already hard, you reckon, feeling it slightly twitch under your touch.

Slowly, you lower down on your knees, tugging his pants down along with your descent. The sight of his cock makes you wet your lips, too eager to please. “My love, you don’t have to,” his hands hover yours that are resting on his hips. It’s not that he didn’t want your mouth on his cock but he just wanted to drawl out this evening for as long as he could. Frankly, he couldn’t afford to release in your mouth without having felt your velvety walls first.

“I want to.” Not wanting to wait any longer, you tentatively place a kiss on the bulbous head, making Seokjin gasp at the contact. You get bolder, gathering some of the precum that has gathered on the tip spreading it along his length your tongue. Using the armrests as leverage, you straighten your back and finally take him in your mouth. Seokjin deems he’ll never get used to this feeling. You vaguely hear him groan above you, but you’re far too busy pushing his shaft farther inside.

You briefly gaze at him through your eyelashes. It’s unfair, you reckon, that even when your lamps cast this golden glow to only one side of his face, he’s just as ethereal as under the light of day. You take him in your mouth as far as you can. When Seokjin throws his head back in pleasure with his wonderfully thick neck on display only for you to see, it ignites a carnal desire in you, so you push yourself further. When he finally hits the back of your throat, you swallow and your husband chokes on air, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto the armrests.

It’s an arduous task, having to try and take control of your breathing as you pleasure your husband. You move up then down slowly until you find a steady rhythm. You feel your eyes water with the pace until his chest starts heaving and you know he’s nearing his climax. “N-no. P-please,” your husband pleads, each word brokenly spoken. Tugging at your hair slightly, he pries you off his mouth, releasing a sigh of relief when you take your mouth off him.

“Bed now.” With your knees still sore from kneeling too long, it takes you some time to get up. Impatiently, the moment you get one of your knees off the ground he hooks his arm below them and lifts you off the ground, carrying you bridal style. “Stop trying to stall.” Seokjin huffs, his lips forming a pout. You giggle at his cuteness, of course even at a time like this, he manages to make you smile like a kid with candy.

He lays you gently on the bed, your hair fanning out on the pillows. He caresses your face with the pads of his fingers and you find yourself leaning against his touch. “My queen,” he sighs, “Your beauty is unrivaled. Truly.” Your lips meet when he closes the distance between the two of you. He stays like that for a moment, his swollen lips placed on top of yours until he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip. You fervently kiss each other, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes pry open again only to see your husband’s teary ones.

“Seokjin-ie, are you okay? What’s the matter?” He shakes his head, replying, “You’re just so beautiful. I’m the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife.” Your face crumples at his words and you give him another kiss. “How could you possibly think that when so many other women who vying for my position right now? Both literally and figuratively. You’re glad when you get a chuckle out of Seokjin. “As much as I want to argue about who’s the luckier one, I have a more pressing problem. And it’s getting really painful, so please…” His lips close in on one of your breasts, your hand flying up to pull at his hair.

Once again, you’re a moaning mess beneath Seokjin. You’re whining, begging for more than the assault he’s doing on your breasts. He doesn’t waste time in complying with your whims, your legs spreading apart when he shifts his position above you. He braces himself on one arm and you hiss as he swipes against your folds, taking some of the wetness on his palm and rubbing it onto his cock. When he pushes slowly against your entrance, you whimper as he gradually sinks into you. Gods, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to this, to him.

When he’s fully sank into you to the hilt, he pauses, knowing that you’ll need a moment for the pain to subside into pleasure. Seokjin places kisses your shoulders as he waits for you to adjust to the feeling. You push your hips up, encouraging him to move. Dragging his cock out slowly, he pushes back down just as languidly. “Jin, please,” you beseech, goading him to go faster. The moment the word escapes your lips, Seokjin begins pounding into you relentlessly. He hastily places a pillow under your hips to angle yours better. The next thrust he gets in has you mewling, each stroke easily rubbing up against your g-spot.

Your thighs begin quivering, every fiber of your body ablaze with each plunge of your husband’s hips. Seokjin feels your impending orgasm with your cunt beginning to pulsate against his cock, and he moves one of his hands between your thighs and starts to toy vigorously with your clit.

“Fuck!” you scream, fisting the sheets that now haphazardly dangling from the bed. Your high hits you so strong, your pussy tightening, clamping around Seokjin. His thrusts begin to stutter as you continue to milk his cock. With one final push, Seokjin cums, releasing ropes of cum inside you. He stays on top of you for a moment, too exhausted and worn out to move an inch. Also, because he wishes that this time it finally gets you pregnant, that your earlier inclination to the idea of having a baby inside you is as enthralling as it is to him.

Seokjin finally pulls out of you with a small grunt, elbows that have been holding up his weight finally give in, breathing heavily as he falls to your side.

He hadn’t meant to stay this long.

In fact, when he heard the first moan that fell from your lips, he had sent the rest of the guards to go on patrol to give you and your husband the much-needed privacy. He had intended to keep lookout from the front of the hanok. With one more corridor to clear out before leaving, he took his steps with caution, knowing that this passage was the one next to your room. The palace’s wooden walls will never be thick enough to hide the sounds of pleasure. His ears are already ringing with the faint sound of your moans but there was one section where the sweet sound was most audible. The door to your room was slightly open, the light from your lamps passing through the narrow slit.

He tries to push away the temptation, reminding himself that he has other duties to attend to… right?

Surely, the rebellious troops would have been subdued before they reach the palace…right?

Ultimately, he can’t leave with you sounding so desperate and broken…right?

He knew his resolve was breaking with every step he took nearer towards the thin beam of light.  He takes the final step with bated breath, wincing when the wood creaks under his weight. He lets out a shaky exhale when he finally peeks through the crevice. Your bed is situated right across from where he’s watching – the whole scene like a live show from a festival. He knows this is wrong, that what happens inside the four walls of your chambers is none of his business but when he sees the king flip you and take you from behind, his lips part, suddenly out of breath like he’s the one pounding into you.  

The voyeur continues to watch the whole spectacle with an unrelenting gaze. He watches the unsuspecting royals get lost in their own world while he lingers in perverse amusement. The strain in his silk pants is getting painful, uncomfortable too when the tip of his cock brushes against the wet patch on the cloth. He reproaches himself for his lack of manners tonight but if this mischief shall reward him with a release later on, then he shall remain here, unperturbed.

Moments later Seokjin’s hips stutter and he feels his own hands lose rhythm as well. Your loud moans fill the room as you reach your high, your husband following. His hand moves faster than before, white spurts of cum coating his hand not long after. He shivers when he pulls his pants back up, the silk proving to be too much for the sensitive tip of his cock. When his eyes revert back to the crevice, he sees Seokjin trace patterns on your back while the both of you murmur softly in each other’s arms. Your husband gives you a chaste kiss, lips closing in on the shell on your ear as he whispers something that makes you giggle. He takes this as his cue to leave, hoping that no other guard has lingered around long enough to see him leave the house.

Fortunately, no one sees the dazed captain walk out of the hanok in the middle of the night.

You are momentarily awakened from a fleeting kiss placed on your cheek, the back of your hands rubbing at your drooping eyelids. Body still sore from your activities last night, you blindly reach out for the blue cloak in front of you as you call out your husband’s name. “I hadn’t meant to wake you from your slumber, my love. Go back to sleep.” He strokes your hair gently while humming a soft melody to lull you back to your slumber.

There’s an ache on his chest when he watches sleep take over you once more, soft snores escaping your lips. Seokjin wonders if he would get to see you this peaceful one more time. You shift in your sleep, the blanket revealing purplish marks littered across your chest. Normally, this would’ve sent all his blood pumping south but with the emotion weighing on his shoulders, all he’s thinking about is engraving your beauty into his memory.

The present disposition in his hands had monopolized his time and because of this he knew he had been neglecting you these past few weeks. He wasn’t able to check up on you, ask how your day went, or even join supper, hence your intimacies last night.  Although your husband knew that after all these years together, you were never one to demand affection because you were well aware of his duties as ruler of a nation. Funnily enough, it was he who yearned for that most of time, while you would remind him of his obligations with a chortling intonation.

Usually, you would push him away when he tries to lavish you with kisses even with the guards and court ladies present, but he knew deep inside that you secretly enjoyed them, cheeks turning a rosy red every time he teases you about it. Albeit being born into royalty, you were treated like a slave by your own step-mother so Seokjin knew it would have taken some time before he had successfully lured you out of your shell. And he knew he had forever to show you the love that you were deprived of. Or did he now?

He recalls the time you had both met in your secret rendezvous. It was a garden exhibiting the most gorgeous fusion of pink and green, cultivated to perfection by Seokjin himself and of course with the help of a few chosen gardeners. Included in the garden was a narrow passage with water directly flowing from the Gaeun River. The secluded site was a testament to Seokjin’s love for the color pink. Flowers of all shades of blush are scattered among the lush green grass, from Azaleas to Carnations to Peonies. ‘Most are from foreign lands’ he informs, carefully plucking out a flower and handing one to you. A blush instantly colors your cheeks at this and Seokjin finds it most endearing, unable to resist teasing you. “You seem to blend in just fine with my flowers,” he observes, poking your cheeks, “but you stand out the most.”

Amongst the rosy hued shrubs and mossy rocks, on a small slope stood a singular cherry blossom tree - your most favorite feature of all. Cherry blossoms had always been known to symbolize the transience of life and rebirth. True to your ancestors’ beliefs, this special tree was tangible proof of the metaphor. The tree had witnessed quite a number of your most cherished moments in life. This was where Seokjin brought you when you broke down into tears after escaping the southern palace, this was where he first pecked you on the cheek, and this same tree witnessed Seokjin’s humble request for your hand in marriage.

Regret weighs heavily on him. You were the only constant reality he had in this capricious life. You had been nothing but perfect, always by his side no matter what. Having to bid his farewell like this broke his heart but if he properly did so, it would probably break his heart all the more. Your husband had already made up his mind – he is to leave for the South before the dawn breaks.

Seokjin was hanging onto that small sliver of hope that a discussion on the dilemma may change their minds. The situation in the southern city had inevitably worsened but he had to try. He could be very persuasive if he wanted to, sure, but you always knew it wouldn’t work. Not by a long shot. You made sure to remind him of that fact. That’s why you never supported the idea of visiting the city especially at a time of agitation like this. The southerners are men honed by war and they are not called the nation’s keepers for nothing. They are willing to sacrifice lives rather than heed diplomacy. It had proved beneficial in the past when foreigners wanted to colonize your country, but with a turmoil conceived by its own countrymen, these people are all the more fueled to fight for what they believe in.

Then again, this was his decision. He had to try. He was willing to risk everything for his nation, even if it meant that this might be the last time he’ll be seeing your face. He wanted to be selfish, just this once, to give in to the matters of the heart, but he knew he couldn’t. If he did, then all his parent’s teachings would have been for nothing. Being born into royalty couldn’t have meant anything. Being the king then would lose its meaning.

With tears brimming at the corner of his eyes, he retrieves a scroll, his brush, and an ink block. ‘This all seems unreal’, Seokjin reels. He only takes out the three when he’s making a new proclamation or with pronouncements usually related to the duties of a king. You two could only stay apart for so long and at the end of the day you’d always find yourselves each other’s arms. Not once did he imagine having to write you a letter, let alone one bidding you farewell.

Patches of tears soften different spots on the previously coarse scroll. With dawn fast approaching, Seokjin ends his letter with a lingering kiss on the paper. He retrieves a flower that he’s plucked from the garden and places it together with the scroll he’s left on the bedside table. Seokjin kisses you on the cheek one last time, “Goodbye, my queen.”

© joontier 2020. All rights reserved. 

[letterboxd]

Best of SXSW 2021.

From properly good Covid comedies to an epic folk-horror doc and an Indigenous feminist Western, the Letterboxd Festiville team reveals their ten best of SXSW Online.

We dug out old lanyards to wear around the house, and imagined ourselves queuing up the block from The Ritz (RIP). We dialled into screenings and panels, and did our level best to channel that manic “South By” energy from our living rooms.

The SXSW festival atmosphere was muted, and that’s to be expected. But the films themselves? Gems, so many gems, whether shot in a fortnight on the smell of an oily stimulus check, or painstakingly rotoscoped over seven years.

When we asked SXSW Film director Janet Pierson what she and her team were looking for this year, she told us: “We’re always looking for films that do a lot with little, that are ingenious, and pure talent, and discovery, and being surprised. We’re just looking for really good stories with good emotional resonance.” If there was one common denominator we noticed across this year’s SXSW picks, it was a smart, tender injection of comedy into stories about trauma, grief, unwanted pregnancy, chronic health conditions, homelessness, homophobia and, yes, Covid.

It’s hard to pick favorites, but here are the ten SXSW features and two short films we haven’t stopped thinking about, in no particular order.

Recovery Directed by Mallory Everton and Stephen Meek, written by Everton and Whitney Call

“Covid 19 is in charge now” might be the most hauntingly funny line in a SXSW film. In Recovery, two sisters set out on a haywire road trip to rescue their grandmother from her nursing home in the wake of a severe Covid 19 outbreak. There’s no random villain or threat, because isn’t being forced to exist during a pandemic enough of a threat in itself? If ever we were worried about “Covid comedies”, SXSW managed to flush out the good ones. (Read about the Festiville team’s other favorite Covid-inflected comedies, including an interview with the directors of I’m Fine (Thanks for Asking).)

Alex Marzona praises the “off-the-charts chemistry” between leads Mallory Everton and Whitney Call. Best friends since they were nine, the pair also wrote the film, with Everton co-directing with Stephen Meek. Every laugh comes from your gut and feels like something only the cast and crew would usually be privy to. “You can tell a lot of the content is improvised, which just attests to their talent,” writes Emma. Recovery doesn’t make you laugh awkwardly about how awful the last year has been—rather, it reminds you that even in such times there are still laughs to be had, trips to be taken, family worth uprooting everything for. Just make sure you’ve packed enough wet wipes for the road, and think long and hard about who should babysit your mice. —EK

The Spine of Night Written and directed by Morgan Galen King and Philip Gelatt

Don’t get too attached to any characters from its star-studded cast—nobody is safe (or fully-clothed) in The Spine of Night’s raw, ultra-violent and cynical world. Conjured over the last seven years, directors Philip Gelatt and Morgan Galen King’s rotoscoped epic recaptures the dazzling imagination and scope of their influences Ralph Bakshi and Heavy Metal. Approaching an anthology-style structure to explore how ‘absolute power corrupts absolutely’—a proverb more potent now than when Gelatt and King began their project—the film packs a franchise’s worth of ideas in its 90-minute runtime. Though the storytelling justifiably proves itself overly dense for some, it will find the audience it’s after, as other Letterboxd members have declared it “a rare treat” and “a breath of fresh air in the feature-length animation scene”. For sure, The Spine of Night can join Sundance premieres Flee and Cryptozoo in what’s already a compelling year for unique two-dimensional animation. —JM

Kambole Campbell caught up with Gelatt and King (who are also Letterboxd members!) during SXSW to talk about animation inspirations and rotoscoping techniques.

The Drover’s Wife: The Legend of Molly Johnson Written and directed by Leah Purcell

Snakes, steers and scoundrels beware! Writer-director-star Leah Purcell ably repurposes the Western genre for Aboriginal and female voices in The Drover’s Wife. Molly Johnson is a crack-shot anti-heroine for the ages, in this decolonized reimagining of a classic 1892 short story by Henry Lawson. And by reimagining, we mean a seismic shift in the narrative: Purcell has fleshed out a full story of a mother-of-four, pregnant with her fifth, a missing husband, predatory neighbors, a mysterious runaway and a young English couple on different paths to progress in this remote Southern land. Purcell first adapted this story for the stage, then as published fiction; she rightly takes the leading role in the screen version, too.

As a debut feature director, Purcell (Goa-Gunggari-Wakka Wakka Murri) already has a firm grip on the macabre and the menacing, not shying away from violence, but making very careful decisions about what needs to be depicted, given all that Molly Johnson and her family are subjected to. She also sneaks in mystic touches, and a hint of romance (local heartthrob Rob Collins can take us on a walk to where the Snowy widens to see blooming wildflowers anytime). Judging by early Letterboxd reviews, it’s not for everyone, but this is Australian colonization through an Indigenous feminist’s eyes, with a fierce, intersectional pay-off. “Extremely similar to a vast majority of the issues and themes explored in The Nightingale,” writes Claira. “I’m slowly realizing that my favorite type of Westerns are Australian.” —LK, GG

Swan Song Written and directed by Todd Stephens

Udo Kier is often the bridesmaid, rarely the bride. Now, after a lifetime of supporting roles ranging from vampires and villains to art-house muse, he finally gets to shine center-stage in Swan Song. Kier dazzles as a coiffure soothsayer in this lyrical pageant to the passage of queer times in backwater Sandusky, Ohio. “He is absolutely wonderful here,” writes Adrianna, “digging deep and pulling out a mesmerizing, deeply affecting and emotionally textured performance, proving that he’s an actor with much more range than people give him credit for.”

A strong supporting cast all have melancholy moments to shine, with Linda Evans (Dynasty), Michael Urie (Ugly Betty) and Jennifer Coolidge (Legally Blonde) along for the stroll. Surreal camp touches add joy (that chandelier, the needle drop!) but by the end, the tears roll (both of joy and sadness). Writer-director Todd Stephens ties up his Sandusky trilogy in this hometown homage, a career peak for both him and Kier. Robert Daniels puts it well, writing that Swan Song is “campy as hell, but it’s also a heartfelt LGBTQ story about lost lovers and friends, vibrant memories and the final passage of a colorful life.” —LK

Leo Koziol spoke with Todd Stephens and Udo Kier during SXSW about Grace Jones, David Bowie and dancing with yourself.

Islands Written and directed by Martin Edralin

Islands is a Mike Leigh-esque story that presents a Canadian Filipino immigrant family full of quirk and character, centered around Joshua, a reticent 50-year-old homebody son. The story drifts in and out of a deep well of sadness. Moments of lightness and familial love make the journey worthwhile. “A film so Filipino a main plot device is line-dancing,” writes Karl. “Islands is an incredibly empathetic film about what it’s like to feel unmoored from comfort. It’s distinctly Filipino and deals with the psychology of Asian culture in a way that feels both profound and oddly comforting.” In a year in which we’ve all been forced to physically slow down, Islands “shows us how slow life can be,” writes Justin, “and how important it is to be okay with that.” Rogelio Balagtas’s performance as Joshua—a first-time leading role—won him the SXSW Grand Jury Award for Breakthrough Performance. —LK

Ninjababy Directed by Yngvild Sve Flikke, written by Flikke with Johan Fasting and Inga H. Sætre

Ninjababy is as ridiculous as its title. When 23-year-old Rakel finds herself accidentally pregnant, scheduling an abortion is a no-brainer. But she’s way too far along, she’s informed, so she’s going to have to have the baby. The ensuing meltdown might have been heartbreaking if the film wasn’t so damn funny. Ninjababy draws on the comforting and familiar (“Lizzie McGuire if she was a pregnant young adult,” writes Nick), while mixing shock with originality (Erica Richards notices “a few aggressive and vulgar moments [but] somehow none of it seemed misplaced”).

An animated fetus in the style of Rakel’s own drawings appears to beg and shame Rakel into motherhood while she fights to hold onto her confidence that not wanting to be a mother doesn’t make her a bad person. Ninjababy’s greatest feat is its willingness to delve into that complication: yes, it’s righteous and feminist and 21st-century to claim your own body and life, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy to turn away from something growing inside of you. It’s a comedy about shame, art, finding care in unlikely places—and there’s something in it for the gents, too. The titular ninjababy wouldn’t leave Rakel alone, and it’s unlikely to leave you either. Winner of the SXSW Global Audience Award. —SH

The Fallout Written and directed by Megan Park

Canadian actress Megan Park brought the youthful wisdom of her days on the teen drama series The Secret Life of the American Teenager to her first project behind the camera, and it paid off. Following the scattered after-effects of a school shooting, The Fallout may be the most acute, empathetic depiction of childhood trauma on screen in recent memory. “It sneaks up on you with its honesty and how it spends time with its lead, carried so beautifully by Jenna Ortega. Even the more conventional moments are poignant because of context,” writes Kevin L. Lee. Much of that “sneaky” honesty emerges as humor—despite the heavy premise, moments of hilarity hang on the edges of almost every scene. And Ortega’s portrayal of sweet-but-angsty Vada brings self-awareness to that humor, like when Vada’s avoidant, inappropriate jokes with her therapist reveal her desperation, but they garner genuine laughs nonetheless.

In this debut, Park shows an unmatched understanding of non-linear ways that young people process their pain. Sometimes kids try drugs! Sometimes they scream at their parents! But more often than not, they really do know what they want, who loves them, and how much time they need to grieve (see also: Jessie Barr’s Sophie Jones, starring her cousin Jessica Barr, out now on VOD and in theaters). The Fallout forsakes melodrama to embrace confusion, ambiguity and joy. Winner of both the SXSW Grand Jury and Audience Narrative Feature Awards, and the Brightcove Illumination Award. —SH

Ludi Directed by Edson Jean, written by Jean and Joshua Jean-Baptiste

When Ludi begins, it’s quiet and dreamy. The film’s opening moments conjure the simple pleasures of the titular character’s Haitian heritage: the music, the colors, the people. Ludi (Shein Monpremier) smiles to herself as she starts her morning with a tape recording her cousin mailed from Haiti to Miami, and listens as her family members laugh through their troubles before recording an upbeat tape of her own. But that’s where the dreaminess ends—Ludi is an overworked, underpaid nurse picking up every shift she possibly can in order to send money home. Writer-director Edson Jean fixates on the pains and consequences of Ludi’s relentless determination, which comes to a head when she moonlights as a private nurse for an old man who doesn’t want her there.

Ashton Kinley notes how the film “doesn’t overly dramatize or pull at false emotional strings to make its weight felt. The second half of the feature really allows all of that to shine, as the film becomes a tender and empathetic two-hander.” George’s (Alan Myles Heyman) resentment of his own aging body steps in as Ludi’s antagonist. Jean throws together jarring contrasts: George throwing Ludi out of the bathroom, followed by Ludi’s memories of home, followed by another lashing out, followed by a shared prayer. The tension is unsustainable. By interspersing the back-breaking predicament of a working-class immigrant with the sights and sounds of the Caribbean, Ludi elegantly, painfully reveals what the cost of a dream can be. —SH

Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror Written and directed by Kier-La Janisse

Building on the folk horror resurgence of films like The Witch and Midsommar, Kier-La Janisse’s 193-minute documentary Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched is a colossal, staggering undertaking that should school even the most seasoned of horror buffs. “Thorough is an understatement,” says Claira.

Combining a historian’s studied, holistic patience with a cinephile’s rabid, insatiable thirst, the film, through the course of six chapters, broadens textbook British definitions, draws trenchant socio-political and thematic connections, debunks myths and transports viewers to far-flung parts of the globe in a way that almost feels anthropological. As Jordan writes, “Three hours later and my mind is racing between philosophical questions about the state of hauntology we generationally entrap ourselves in, wanting to buy every single one of the 100+ films referenced here, and being just a bit in awe of Janisse’s truly breathless work.” An encyclopedic forest worth losing yourself in—get ready for those watchlists to balloon. Winner of the SXSW Midnighters Audience Award. —AY

Introducing, Selma Blair Directed by Rachel Fleit

There’ll likely be some level of hype when this intimate collaboration between actress Selma Blair and filmmaker Rachel Fleit comes out later in the year on Discovery+, and that’s okay, because that is Blair’s intention in sharing the details of her stem-cell transplant for multiple sclerosis. There’d be little point in going there if you are not prepared to really go there, and Introducing, Selma Blair is a tics-and-all journey not just into what life is like with a chronic condition, a young son, and a career that relies on one’s ability to keep a straight face. It’s also an examination of the scar tissue of childhood, the things we are told by our parents, the ideas we come to believe about ourselves. “I almost felt like I shouldn’t have such intimate access to some of the footage in this documentary,” writes Andy Yen. “Bravo to Selma for allowing the filmmakers to show some truly raw and soul-bearing videos about her battle with multiple sclerosis that make us feel as if we are as close to her as family.” —GG

Femme Directed by Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping

I May Destroy You fans, rejoice: Paapa Essiedu, who played Arabella’s fascinating best friend Kwame, takes center stage in Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping’s intoxicating short film Femme. It’s a simple premise—Jordan, a femme gay man, follows his drug dealer (Harris Dickinson, mastering the sexually repressed brusque young man like no one else) home to pick up some goods on a night out. Except, of course, it’s not that simple. The co-directors build a world of danger, tension and electricity, with lusciously lensed scenes that lose focus as the threat rises. Frankie calls it “hypnotizing and brutal and gorgeous” and we couldn’t agree more. A crime thriller wrestling with hyper-masculinity seen through the eyes of an LGBTQ+ character, with a sucker-punch ending to boot, the world needs more than twenty minutes of this story. —EK

Play It Safe Directed by Mitch Kalisa

If you (unwisely) thought that the vulnerable, progressive environment of drama school would be a safe space for Black students, Play It Safe confirms that even a liberal bunch of actors (and their teacher) are capable of being blind to their own egregiously racist microagressions. Mitch Kalisa’s excellent short film explores structural prejudice head-on, in an electric acting exercise that rests on where the kinetic, gritty 16mm camera is pointing at every pivotal turn. At first, we’re with Black drama student Jonathan Ajayi as he receives the assignment; then we are with the rest of the class, exactly where we need to be. “Literally in your face and absolutely breathtaking,” writes Nia. A deserving winner of the SXSW Grand Jury and Audience narrative shorts prizes. —GG

Follow the Festiville team on Letterboxd

[squeebs]

Winter Solstice Tarot Spread 12-21-2020

I want to share my yule reading as there is a very powerful energy surrounding today. This ended up being an eight card spread and I let the form come to me organically through meditation. I chose an arrow because I’m mostly Sagittarius  signs and I want this to be the year I shoot forward.

My questions are:

>Where have I been? IV The Emperor ~ This card reminds me of my grandpa, and home. The energy of this card makes me think of him regardless, but in this particular deck I’m using (The Gorgon’s Tarot) There’s a bald eagle perched atop his left hand and I legit have a bald eagle tattooed on my left collarbone for him. In his right hand is a sword with a snake wrapped around it, I was fascinated with them as a youngling. I even have one tattooed on my right arm. The patterns in this card remind me of a wallpaper my grandparents had in their bedroom too, it’s giving me chills. I think this card is calling to me so much because a lot of my heavier baggage in my past comes from complicated relationships with my father figures. But I won’t get into that here. The emperor has an energy that I lacked in my younger years and crave in my adult years, that’s what’s important to take from this.

>What am I doing? XIII Death ~ Ok spooky time to get Death in a present position! This is the card of necessary purging in order for regrowth. Much like our current frigid seasonal friend. There’s a lot going on under the surface, many things are still teeming with life and preparing to reemerge when the time is right. This is a very applicable card as I had a major life change and moved 4 hour hours away to rebuild my marriage and start a new tarot business. So, yeah, lot’s of transformation and change. But I’ve had a lot of affirmation and confirmation along with my decisions, I’m just trying to trust in the process. This card is also associated with self care. In order to nourish their bodies through the hard winter, many animals eat a crap ton of food and then go into hibernation. Now I’m not saying the cards are telling me to gorge myself then sleep for eighteen hours, but they certainly might be telling me to be mindful of my eating and get plenty of rest when the gray skies have me feeling blue.

>>What should I prune? XVI The Tower ~ I honestly feel that this is an affirmation telling me that the bad and misfortune (which I have been considering my karmic debt) is coming to an end and good things are afoot, mainly since this is in the prune position. Also, my deck features a woman springing from the ruins of the tower as the main centerpiece of the card, not the destruction of the tower itself.

>>What should I grow? Page of cups ~ Normally, this card means approaching life with curiosity and a childlike exploration of the world. But due to a previous spread I did, I think this means something else but I also won’t get into that here.

>Where am I going? X of Pentacles ~ Well I sure hope so. The ten of pentacles is my all-time life goal. It is a card of leaving a legacy in my wake. Being fruitful enough in life to provide for those proceeding me, my daughters, sons, my descendants. The suit of pentacles used to make me uncomfortable as it was a lot of hard work, but hard work pays off in the end, for everyone. That is what this card encompasses.

>>How do I align with my highest path?

>>>Card one: X of Wands ~ This card is one of success and the burden of responsibility that comes with it. This ties into the success of the ten of pentacles, but in a different sense. This card is a reminder that the work is never really finished in the grand scheme of things. We may finish projects, but maintenance is required. We might wrap up that business deal, but we still have to get the sales after. Success is grand and well worth the effort, but there is effort and I’m surely nowhere near the ten of wands with my plans just yet.

>>>Card two: 3 of Wands ~ I pulled this in an earlier spread as well! Where the ten of wands denotes completion and upkeep, the three of wands was that idea when it was being planned out schematically. The suit of wands is one of action and this is surely a card of such. Being able to take an idea and start to morph it into reality is a huge feat. It takes a lot of energy as well as strategy. In the card, there is a woman sitting on a beach, gazing out at passing boats. While she only has 3 sticks (wands) to work with, she is formulating how to get there too.

>Why? XVII The Star ~ AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH this is so cool. I can’t even express to you how much this has resonated with me tonight. Just have hope. Just have hope, guys. Shit might seem real rough, but with enough love and light to guide the way, we can find our way out of the darkest of places.