#give me violent foxes period
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youdontknowhowtodiequietly · 2 months ago
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y'know what? we need more vicious/violent kevin in fics. like, he's quite violent in the books. he literally got into brawls with seth on multiple occasions. he's abrasive and rude and insensitive, he's definitely got into one fight with all of the og foxes (except renee) like it's inevitable. pls give me more violent kevin, feral kevin. he was raised a raven ffs
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slimgrimace · 7 days ago
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There's something inherently funny to me about my only popular posts I have ever had on tumblr (in spite of having been posting here for half of my 32 years on earth,) being about the dead bastard CEO and the perfect man who may have killed him, because for two beautiful weeks, the Overton window shifted to include my fringe extremism for the first and probably only time in my life. I was a babbling lunatic one day, then suddenly everyone and their moms and grandmas agreed with me and kinda hoped it would escalate to the violent deaths of every person who has ever hoarded wealth and destroyed the world and the people who live there to do so.
This is similar to what it felt like being a "politically active 14 year old" and loving Barack Obama in 2008 bc Fox News said he was a Marxist lmao
I wish you guys were "thousands must die but we actually have the list curated by Forbes 12 times a year and the NYT gives us the other names when they write op-eds" people with me all the time. I wish we were all bloodthirsty together forever ❤️ I wish you all actually wanted to get busy and didn't just get riled up for an average meme cycle time period and really wanted to rend the very flesh from the bones of the very human monsters who torture and trap us in their disgusting games and scams and evils. I wish you meant it!
But it was cute and fun and charming all the same, just to feel the warmth of community as you wrapped your digital arms around me and saw me as normal for a second. Thank you.
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shannendoherty-fans · 2 months ago
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March 1993 - US magazine
Interview by Margy Rochin, photos by Lou Salvatore.
The Us Interview: Shannen Doherty (part 2)
(Part 1)
Earlier, you mentioned the Emmys. Why did you drop out at the last minute?
I didn't. I dropped out Saturday morning at the rehearshal [*MY NOTE: The Emmys took place on Sunday, August 30, 1992]. The [script] that I got was different than the [script] that was there. Also, I felt that considering Fox was doing the Emmys, our whole cast should have been there. The cast was not given tickets. Even Aaron Spelling wasn't going. And my representatives had their problems... They cae to me after rehearshal and said, "We really feel like we should take you out of the Emmys," I said, "It's going to cause a huge stink." And they said, "We'll deal with it." And I said, "I hired you guys to make decisions, so fine, I'll go with your decision."
And were you satisfied with how they dealt with it?
Well, there's only so much that you can do. People hit the press right away and lie about you. What can you say? The director, whatever his name is – I've never met him in my entire life – made this statement that I'm this terriblelady and that I was jealous that I didn't have enough lines. I had plenty of lines; that wasn't the problem at all.
In fact, what people said was that you were angered by the decision to let '90210' costar Jennie Garth deliver the first lines of the award presentation.
No [laughs]. I have no problems with Jennie, despite what people think.
Her recent behavior on 'Arsenio' would indicate otherwise.
What did she say?
It was more about what she did't say. When asked about you, her response was primarily made up of well-times pauses.
Jennie was afraid that I would be upset with her... But you can only defend somebody so much. From what I understand, she just felt cornered and very flustered. I totally understand where she was coming from. It's like [the 90210 cast members] don't know what to say anymore.
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If you were a talk-show host, how would you handle it?
Get over it and say, "Hey,let's give this girl a shot. Let's give her a chance." Everybody deserves a second chance in this world. That's basically all I ask. Like: "Don't believe what you're reading about me. Let me prove to you what I'm like."
Let's return to your relatioship with your '90210' costars. What about the persistent talk of friction between you and Luk Perry? One incident, for example, involved you threateing to sue Perry for sexual harassment during,of all things, a punch-fight that escalated out of control.
[Dry laugh] You get so sick of the bulls--- that people make uo. Obviously at this point, I don't care what people think.
Is the story true or false?
False. Luke and I get along. When you have a big cast, you have problems. Everybody argues, but we're like brothers and sisters, and we all make up. We all love each other. Tori and I are really good friends. Jennie and I are friends. Jason and I hang out. But other people aren0t able to come to our set and observe us, so they don't really see how well we actually do get along. [Laughs] My God, the things that [they say] I've done! Supposedly, I wash my hair with Evian water. Like I would ever wash my hair with Evian water! For one, how do you get your hair totally clean that way? Do you por a bottle over your head? I mean, I jump in the shower like every other human being. It's just stupid.
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Okay, you answered the Evian rumor. What about the rumor that you spalled several of the makeup people on the TV movie 'Obsessed'?
[Shocked] Which makeup people? No. And, as a matter of fact, I'd me more than willing to give names and phone numbers of every makeup artist I wored with. I'm not a violent person and I don't hit people, for very simple reasons: [a] I don't want to be sued, and [b] I was never hit as a child. I don't believe in hitting, period.
It's true that you've been approached by 'Playboy' magazine?
That's true. Playboy and I have had some talks about doing it and in what manner it would be done. Aaron Spelling did not pay me money not to do it – that's completely false. It's not a dead deal yet. They're [Playboy] pretty cool. Very easy to work with in the sense that you tell them what you don't want to do – that you're shy about certain things, that you don't want to show full breasts or whatever – and there are no arguments about it. I just don't know if it's the right time in my career to do it. There's so much bad press, is it really a good time to do a Playboy shoot?
In America, beauty is something that you can purchase. If you have the money, you can resculpt yourself. Is that something that you condone?
I personally have never had anything done. I've been asked [if I had] breast implants. I don't feel it's worth my time to even comment on it. Whether I did or not, it's absolutely nobody's business but my own. But I feel that if somebody wants to have [plastic surgery], more power to them. I think there's a point where you go overboard. Imean, there's something so beautiful about women when there's aging. Crow's-feet, I think, are one of the most beautiful things on women. I know this sounds totally nuts, but I'm getting them and I'm psyched. I also love scars on people. Scars to me are so attractive. I have a scar here [points to the bridge of her nose], I have a scar right by my eyebrow, and I dig 'em.
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Have you read the 'I hate Brenda Newsletter'?
No. [Weak smile] I just read about it today in the new US magazine. [Pause] "I hate Brenda" – that's not me, that's my character. And I agree, I don0t like my character. And the only people to turn to is our writers. They should probably read this newsletter. I don't think she's written properly. I would like for them to make her a little bit more believable – not quite as sappy or bitchy or whatever.
One particularly mesmerizing item in the 'I Hate Brenda Newsletter' concerns Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder. He talks about your attemps to contact him. Do you know anything about this?
[Laughs] I think I was going to the MTV Music Awards and I was trying to figure out who I should take. So I said to my publicist, "I have a crush on Eddie Vedder." I've never met him, but I think he's extremely talented and very good-looking. I don't know one woman who wouldn't want the opportunity to [meet him]. So I guess my publicist called his publicist, and it turns out that he's been with the same girl for, like, seven years, which I think is great. It was dropped, and that was the end of it.
In his version of the story, he says that you were staying at the same hotel in San Diego and invested quite a bit of energy in attempting to phone him.
I don't think so! Did he really say that? That's pretty tacky. From what I understand, he wasn't even staying at the same hotel. My makeup artist was actually the one who was trying to get hold of him, because she has a crush on him, too [laughs]. But I didn0t try to call up his room or anything. Even if I did, it would make me a very normal girl. The sad part is that he felt like he had to lie and pump his ego by saying I did that. I just think he sould have been flattered that I even wanted to meet with him at the MTV Awards, and left it at that. [Pause] My crush is now over.
(Part 3)
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tankgotstuckinthecircusgate · 5 months ago
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do you think that Clemente had somehow helped in making Falcone the way he is — or just make him want to be a don
yes yes yes yes i think he did at some point
«had somehow helped in making Falcone the way he is» <- i think Carlo was always Machiavellian and a hypocrite, but Alberto's cruelty and greed may have actually made him a bit worse (haha bad influence) + you see, i think Carlo is very plastic and Alberto is rough, ready to headfirst into a wall
«or just make him want to be a don» <- it's hard for me to say whether Carlo really wanted to become a don by looking at Clemente. bc i think Carlo himself has a mature idea of ruling (not just in terms of “i want power and money” but in many ways “i can do better than Moretti”) It's also impossible to say when they first met - before Clemente became a don or after (in my hcs they first met in 1929, with Clemente heading his own crime family and Carlo becoming Moretti's capo, but lately i've been thinking about changing that) anyway, i think seeing a young, active (and rather violent?), ambitious don among the old school was important for Carlo. And they don't have such a big age difference — only 7 years. this is probably why it was much easier for Carlo to associate himself with Clemente and see him as a role model (in terms of money and power). from what i understand, Clemente emphasized Sicilian roots and collaboration with Italians, just like the old school. but i still think he stood out from Moretti and Vinci (in Carlo's eyes - for the better??). Carlo certainly admired him more than he didn't (to me)
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^ some old sketch w them lmao
periodically i think about how Clemente during the Vinci-Moretti war was neutrally watching it all from the shadows, waiting for the outcome. ofc, the most profitable thing for him would have been the destruction of one of the families — there would be less competition (although he did take over some of both families's territory after the war), but i think he was happy to see Carlo as the new don? Carlo's not much better than Alberto. in my eyes Clemente would more readily give Carlo, as a new don, a warm welcome than Vinci would (Vinci knows & disapproves Carlo more?)
and that scene from the dlc. their greeting seems like common courtesy, but i want to believe that they had a warm relationship with each other. although i think they were both holding a gun mentally, ready to become each other's enemies. maybe there was less of that in the past?
and Alberto and Carlo remind me of this:
«However, Al's true mentor - and immediate superior in Fox's absence - was Frankie Yale. The age difference between him and Ale was only six years.
<…> Frankie then took orders for murders, his fee was up to ten thousand dollars, but it was impossible to prove. A year later, another fight led him to prison for a year. In 1916 he was charged with robbery and theft, but again could not prove anything.
Frankie Yale was very different from John Torrio. Instead of strict business suits, he wore bright jackets, expensive jewelry and felt fedora hats. Al liked that style. Frankie didn't try to settle things with peace, because it was much quicker to settle things with a fist or a gun. He was capable of good deeds, such as helping fellow Italians by giving the poorest food, coal, or money. Once he made restitution to a restaurant owner who had been robbed; when a fishmonger lost his cart, he gave him $200 and advised him, “Buy yourself a horse, you're old to walk.” But in anger, he was terrible: once he beated up his younger brother Angelo, who angered him something that he went to the hospital. And when two extortionists picked on a checkroom attendant from the restaurant next door, Frankie beat them to a pulp.»
ps. random but it's still hard for me to figure out if Carlo had a negative attitude towards Clemente starting to fuck over potential soldiers for money by making them pay to enter the family
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aratlife · 8 months ago
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Chapter 1: Tsuppari
Part 1: Skid of a life
Shibuya, Kame High School - 1981 :
Hamato ! Hamato ! Hamato !
Yoshi wakes up from his student desk.
- Excuse me sir, I... I...
- What do I Hamato-San? I was taking a nap instead of listening in class, right? This is the last time Hamato. Is that clear?
- Yes, sir...
- So where was I? Oh yes!
And the teacher resumed his mathematics class. The other students cheerfully mocked Yoshi. They barely hid it but he didn’t care. This is not the first time we have laughed at him like this and nor the last surely. What matters to Yoshi at the moment is to find his way. With or without friends. This is only a detail for him.
But…
He didn’t know what to do. What he wanted to do precisely with his future. High school for him is a waste of time. He very quickly assimilates what he is taught without difficulty. The knowledge that seemed most useful to him in any case. With some exceptions for passion, such as the Renaissance period during History for example. He wants a life full of adventures and twists and turns. A life that others will remember as it comes to an end. A life of a man, of a real one. But given how he leads his life right now, how his parents decide him in his place... it won’t be the case... and it’s unbearable to him.
And a din takes him out of his torpor. This din that will give him the chance he wanted. A life full of danger.
The door of Class A-1 is shattered by an offender who got his buttocks kicked. He is in the vapes. A young girl in black uniform, violently puts her foot on the face of the unconscious loser. She correctly puts on her red ribbon that she wore like a Vietnam veteran.
« Baka! You had no chance against Oroku Karaï! The unbeatable! The wild black fox! »
A silence ensued. The students and the teacher do not look at her. Question of habit. But for Yoshi not at all. He was new here. It was the first time he attended this kind of scene. Even more unlikely for him that it took place in a classroom. The teacher cuts the silence, in a boring voice.
« Miss Oroku... this is the tenth time this year that you have made us a scene. I will ask you to go to the director’s office... again. »
Say the teacher without too much expectation from the little dye.
« And then again? That I lick his boots as long as you’re there? In your dreams yes. Hey ! You over there! Why are you looking at me, huh?! »
Throwing a threatening look at Yoshi who startled. He couldn’t help but observe the exchange, focusing his gaze on the girl with the ribbon.
« M-me? But for nothing! »
Stutter Yoshi while shaking his head.
« That’s right, yeah. To others! »
Beugla Oroku. She continues with an unexpected salto before, landing on the head of a student who asked for nothing, using it as a spring. She lands on Hamato’s desk, grabs him by the collar and pulls him forward towards his juvenile face in fury.
« You’re one of those fucking perverts, aren’t you?! I’m sure of it! »
Spits the girl out to him.
« But no! Since I told you tha——»
"MIWA !"
The Sukeban surped, which made her lose her balance and fell head first on the floor of the class. She frantically rubbed her skull, trying to soothe the pain.
Yoshi directs his gaze towards where this voice full of frustration emanates. It’s a Tsuppari and not just any: Oroku Saki. Maybe Yoshi this quite a lot of high school, but that doesn’t prevent him from having his ears wide open. He had heard of a gang of young hotheads in the area. Composed of girls and boys. Led by an inconvenient brother and sister.
- It’s him, that’s for sure. The leader of this gang. And she must be her sister. What charisma he has... but...but two seconds there... where did the others go!? And the teacher!?
Finally, noticing it, getting him out of these thoughts in passing, the whole class was emptying in less than two, after the appearance of this young future Yakuza in the making. However, it was not yet time for the exit.
But Yoshi understood right away, they went out for fear of this young individual. No wonder. It emanates a threatening aura. He went, nonchalantly, towards him and the little girl with a headache. Yoshi sweats, his heart beats so much that he thought he was going to explode. These hands tightened, his trembling look eventually giggling.
The Tsuppari turns to the girl. The succession by her veteran ribbon. And one throws a cold look with an expressionless face...
Then suddenly, from a neutral face to an open and radiant face, he greeted him, forcing the young woman under her embrace to do the same.
« I’m sorry for the inconvenience caused by my sister. She is always too excited when she is… on adrenaline. »
« But he looked at me badly-Urghh! » The Tsuppari pinches her nose, silencing her.
« She apologizes... in her own way. »
« Uh okay... »
Footsteps are heard. A lot of steps. We had the impression that it was a herd that was getting closer and closer. The offender releases the offender.
« Miwa... what did I tell you about tracking a rival? »
"Tsss... to be careful if he really is alone. I know that bro. And I already told you not to call me that. My real name is Karaï!"
« If you say so... Carrie. »
« Ah, ah very funny bro. »
- I knew it! It’s him! And her too… surprisingly. The Oroku! Maybe... it’s the opportunity. A sign of fate. In short, that’s what I wanted. The moment of truth. The moment or never.
The young Hamato Yoshi gets up suddenly, startling "Carrie" but not Saki. He stands straight like an i, throwing a look of conviction straight into the eyes of Chief Tsuppari.
« Engage me! Please! »
« Wow what ? But we are not—— »
Saki is cut by the walls of the class that burst on all sides. Emerging among the debris, rival Tsuppari. They were armed with sticks, batons and metal chains. Their outfit was similar to that of the offender who had been knocked out by Karaï, of which the latter was also noted. He was standing on the teacher’s desk. Pointing the finger at the makeshift trio.
« You will pay for this humiliation you have subjected me to! You’re going to bite your fingers but especially your bal—— »
His speech is cut short by a wild student’s office coming straight up on the face of this big mouth. For sure now, he wasn’t going to get up right away. Karaï rubs his hands after throwing himself. Then launching:
« I thought I hit him harder than that. »
« All the time double blow them sister. Always double blow them. »
« Stop that. You can keep your lessons. »
The Oroku toasted each other, frustrated with each other. Then they glanced at their enemies and another at Yoshi, astonished by the unlikely situation he was experiencing at this very moment.
« Do you take it out or do I take it out? » Asked Karaï bored, who already knew the answer.
« YOU take it out. For the mess you put on us. » Increase Saki.
« Take me out? What do you mean? I’m not sure I understand? » Asked Yoshi completely to the west.
« Sers the teeth. »
"Huh ?"
Suddenly, everything went very quickly. He is lifted by the collar of his uniform... and is defenestred by the girl.
- Oh good God... that’s not how I saw the day of my death. A hair too brutal for my taste. Then I haven’t even been able to accomplish anything yet. Nothing at all. I will be forgotten like the others. In nothingness.
« OOOOOYYYY ! What are you still doing lying down there?! »
"Uh ?"
« Don’t you see that they’re going to come and catch you too?! Go away! NOW! »
Out of what seemed to be to him these last thoughts, Hamato Yoshi whom he had landed, by miracle, on the inflatable mascot of the high school: Kanshiro, the hawk, could not believe that this girl knew about the mascot.
In the dirty class, the Oroku faced members of a rival gang.
" Did you know there was an inflatable mascot downstairs ? "
« In your opinion? Of course not! »
« Jesus. Today you don’t miss one! »
« Well, can we send them to the hospital? I have a big desire to break bones. »
« Good, good. But these are the last ones for today understood ? »
"Okay bro ! Let’s BRAWL !"
-The Prologue -
-Next page-
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stewy · 3 years ago
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In your opinion which period was his hottest? I love '64 and '75
why would you ask me, a John girl who can find all his eras sexy, this? no joke, the only irredeemable one for me is the bald egg from 73, and the unkept beard from mid-1969 (but even the latter...). but here is my analysis:
okay, i can't get behind the thirsting for pre-1963 John. hamburg John? that's a child (says the 20yr old). a dirry and disgusting one, but a child nonetheless. the only person i can understand thirsting over him is babier baby Paul. now, this?
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i get it. looking at 1963 John makes me understand Beatlemania perfectly (and these girls were actually controlling themselves!). still impossibly baby but with a charm you don't find anywhere else, and incredibly handsome. 10/10 would take him to Barcelona with me for two weeks of gay sex. next we have:
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presented without comment. would 10/10 cast him as Benjamin Braddock. now here comes my VERY special boy!!! here he comes... here he is!!!!
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my gorgeous, handsome, beautiful sword swallower i want to buy him moustache protecting teacups so nothing will damage that wonderfully kept blond (!) thing on his face and tell him i'm very proud of him for being gay and that he's valid and he doesn't need a woman to fix him. also give him a huge kiss.
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now to my lovely evil & toxic girlfriend >:-) those lovely ginger strands finally getting the attention and freedom deserve. turns out her pronouns are she/they now, and she has an even more toxic girlfriend she brings everywhere, but it's okay bc mean lesbians usually have that phase in their development. she'll get over it.
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now, not unlike you reading this, i also used to lack good taste and hate on this beautiful cult leader's beard. sure, he's evil, dead behind the eyes, probably killed someone, would sacrifice all those he loves for his wife, but who wouldn't? this isn't about his character, it's about how badly i want to brush his hair behind his year and feminize him :)
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this was a violent act. to tease us with this handsome young proto Steve Jobs, then leave us to die by going into insanity-induced seclusion for an entire year was... wow. worst thing he's ever done, for sure!
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the most handsome, misunderstood psychotic gay man in the whole of England. look at that freckled arm. next:
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looking at pictures of 1974 John causes me such a visceral reaction... i'm a lesbian but i used to think i was bisexual purely by the amount of hours i can stare at his biceps. sure, enormous gender envy, but Something about the divorced bisexual man at his absolute peak just clicks for me, y'know? can't IMAGINE what it must've been like to look at him and just not fucking him... probably the closest to human torture some people have gotten to (especially since EVERYONE was fucking him like, give us everything manwhore!)
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the divorced bisexual is now back with his homophobic wife but he's still Divorced and SluttyBisexual in spirit. fox mulder's biological father. incapable of closing the top buttons of his shirt. i love him :(
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the modern 80s fashion fit him SO fucking well. DILF excellence. a man can be married and still divorced :'-) so handsome
there's more but tumblr hates gay people </3 so 10 images only
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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago
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Now I want the story where NMJ is half war god and NHS is half fox spirit, thank you so much xD
based on this tumblr post and Lao Nie’s decision to refer to WRH as A-Han in this one ficlet
on ao3
Nie Zonghui had long ago suspected that his Sect Leader was a madman, but he didn’t really know it for certain until the first time he lost the man while on a bodyguarding mission – his first, and a great honor. 
Supposedly.
“It’s all right,” his father said, looking long-suffering, when he reported back in distress. “He’s an adult, our sect leader, and this is a small city with no major threats in the middle of some idiosyncratic festival celebration for some goddess or another. How much damage can he really do before he sobers up?”
Nie Zonghui stared at his father, then turned to his mother, who was also staring at her husband with an expression of sincere incredulity.
“Lots,” she supplied. “Lots and lots and lots, and that’s assuming he doesn’t get himself killed in the meantime. Why would you even say that?”
“He’s our sect leader, have some respect.”
“I respect the boss bull of the herd, too, but it doesn’t mean I let it go wandering around the fields wherever it pleases!” She shook her head, snorting in a manner not entirely unlike a bull herself. “Well, if we’re very lucky, maybe our cousin will knock up a cow while he’s out and about rather than just breaking things. We could use a direct heir already; he’s not getting any younger.”
“We could use him being properly married is what we could use. I don’t understand why he’s so resistant – ah, Zonghui, you’re still here? Go gather some cultivators and go look for him, but don’t kick up any fuss, and worry too much if you can’t find him at once. He’ll be back to business soon enough.”
He was, if by “soon enough” one meant “after nearly ten days” and by “back to business” one meant “still drunk off his ass and waxing rhapsodic about some girl he met and possibly married”.
“Yes, yes, I’m sure the sun shines out of her ass,” Nie Zonghui’s father said, his face stormy. “You still could’ve told us where you went. Look what you did to poor Zonghui, he’s been wearing down his heels pacing in worry over you!”
“Oh, heels, yes, did I mention that my gorgeous goddess had amazing legs, too?” their sect leader asked with a soppy smile and stars in his eyes, totally uninterested in any of their petty complaints. “She could kill a man with them – oh, but I would die a happy man between those thighs…!”
“Zonghui, go guard the outside door,” his mother told him. “Also, tell his younger sister that she might need to be sect leader sooner than she’d hoped, because I’m going to murder this fucking –”
-
Nie Zonghui was there, too, when ten months later his new little baby cousin was (metaphorically) ditched on their doorstep.
The entire thing was entirely too dramatic for his taste, and yes, he was aware that as a person who chose to dual wield sabers he had very little room to criticize others for being overly dramatic, however correct he might be.
They had been fighting bandits – barely disguised mercenaries, really, probably paid off by the Wen sect to harass them – in what had turned into a particularly bad situation. Three separate regiments had joined together to take advantage of a terrible thunderstorm and ambush them at all once and them with their backs against a raging river, swollen with rain to the precipice of flooding, with no way to retreat except by fleeing on their sabers, abandoning the common people they were protecting and losing all face. 
The sect leader had been raging on the battlefield, saber in hand, but even he had seen that they would need to shortly choose between death and dishonor; Nie Zonghui, close by his side, had seen how his face was split with a terrible scowl as he wracked his brain for more options.
Then there had been a terrible roar of thunder, and then a flash of light that had blinded them all.
Nie Zonghui had immediately noted the anomality of it, thunder first and lightning second, and wondered it if it was some sort of array working against them, especially when the light had not faded away but grown brighter, causing searing pain in his eyes that made him fall and clutch at his face. But he was a good soldier, loyal and true, and he forced his eyes open to squint into the night, looking to see he did not know what.
Through his sun-blindness, he vaguely thought he could see a silhouette not unlike that of a woman, ten feet tall and radiant as the sun, wearing a dress of nine colors and carrying a guandao in her hand that seemed to reach the clouds, but when he blinked again he saw nothing at all.
Or, well, he did see something: all of their enemies were headless, no matter where on the battlefield they were, their bodies dropping like a loosened string of coins where they had been standing and splattering anyone they were fighting with blood as they gawped at the sudden corpses.
Also, the sect leader was suddenly holding something in his arms when he hadn’t been before.
“What’s that?” Nie Zonghui asked, and the sect leader turned towards him. Nie Zonghui squinted, and suddenly wondered if this entire battle had been a very bad dream. “…is that a baby?”
“Yes,” the sect leader said, grinning broadly. “He’s my son!”
“He’s your what,” Nie Zonghui said.
“My son! I didn’t know about him, of course – apparently he came as something of a surprise to her as well – but anyway she thought that it would be more appropriate for me to raise him, all things considered. A baby doesn’t quite fit her lifestyle. What do you think of ‘Mingjue’ as a courtesy name? Good, yes?”
Nie Zonghui suddenly understood why his parents were always cursing all the time.
-
“I don’t see why I need another wife,” the sect leader said. “I already have a son.”
“Don’t you want to give said son a mother?” Nie Zonghui’s mother asked, her arms crossed. “One that isn’t the Dark Lady of the Nine Heavens, the war goddess you somehow managed to knock up without getting killed?”
“She never specified that she was –”
“Someone needs to be Nie-furen,” the sect leader’s younger sister interrupted, “because I am sick and tired of doing the job, and it’s a little difficult to ask a goddess to do it. So you are going to find yourself another one that’s a little closer to the ground this time, you understand me?”
The sect leader nodded and agreed, which was universally agreed upon to be the only appropriate reaction when his beloved meimei said something in that particular tone of voice.
(He did, after a suitable period of time, state that he wanted to make clear that there was no actual evidence that he had knocked up Jiutian Xuannü and that it was quite plausible that the mother of his heir was nothing more than a rogue cultivator of particular strength and possibility even immortality. If Baosan Sanren had managed it, why not someone else?)
At any rate, they brought him several pictures of women that might fit the bill and who would not be too offended at being asked to be a secondary wife – their sect leader swore up and down that he had performed bows with the mother of his first son, rendering him legitimate, and anyway no one was in the mood to see if the maybe-a-goddess would take offense to someone calling her child a bastard – but none seemed to catch their sect leader’s interest.
“Consider visiting a few brothels,” Nie Zonghui’s great-uncle suggested. “Anything to get you back in the habit of thinking about women of a less divine nature – though of course we’d prefer that she be literate.”
The sect leader scowled and stalked off to go night-hunting instead.
“I don’t like brothels,” he said to Nie Zonghui as they made their way through an especially deserted mountain valley in search of something that had murdered all the local mensfolk in the surrounding villages with especial viciousness. “Surely there’s an option in between.”
Nie Zonghui preferred his sabers to either men or women, but he obediently wracked his brain to think of where people in stories and famous songs found their wives. “Innkeeper’s daughters?” he finally suggested.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the sect leader scoffed, but the very next day, he decided to break his usual habit of staying out in the wild no matter the weather in favor of taking shelter from the encroaching storm in a small inn right at the base of an especially lonesome and nasty-looking cliff.
“We’re always happy to have guests,” the innkeeper said with a somewhat sinister smile – he was pale as a ghost in the guttering candlelight, and his lips looked very red. “My daughter will show you to your rooms.”
The daughter in question was inhumanly beautiful: small and graceful, with a fox’s face and dark hair that fell to her knees.
“Wow,” the sect leader said, staring at her. “You know, I think you could kill me with those nails of yours.”
Nie Zonghui took a look and agreed with the sentiment, seeing that her nails were as long as claws and looked just as sharp, but apparently he and the sect leader had somewhat different interpretations of this sequence of events and plans on how to address it.
Namely, Nie Zonghui pointed out that the lady was obviously some sort of yao or maybe a gui and that she was probably the one seducing the local mensfolk, draining their yang energy and then slaughtering them, and therefore that it was undoubtedly their duty as cultivators – and cultivators of the Nie sect in particular – to put an end to her vile deeds through the swift application of their sabers. Furthermore, he explained, they should take care never to allow themselves to be alone with her in the process, lest she seek to entrance them with her seductive magics and lure them to their undoubtedly violent deaths.
The sect leader’s rebuttal to this line of logic was limited to “I’m the sect leader and if I want to bang the probably-a-ghost, I’m going to bang the ghost and there’s nothing you can do to stop me”.
Amazingly enough, the sect leader did not end up dead the next day – the innkeeper looked just as surprised as Nie Zonghui felt – and instead announced, very happily, that he was planning on marrying her.
“You what,” the innkeeper said, staring at his very smug-looking ‘daughter’. In light of dawn, she was wearing a dress of many colors with a foxfur ruff, and her beauty was almost painful to behold.
“You why,” Nie Zonghui moaned.
“You shut up,” the sect leader told him. “I’ll have you know that my lady here is very clever, literate and well-learned, and she doesn’t at all mind being the second wife. Weren’t you one of the ones on my case about getting a Nie-furen to help managing things back home?”
“I didn’t think we needed to specify that the person in question didn’t murder a lot of people!”
“Isn’t his first wife supposedly a war goddess?” the lady inquired, her clever eyes dancing in amusement.
“Well…yes…”
“Also, all those men deserved it,” she said. After a brief pause, she added, “In my opinion as a totally unrelated observer, of course.”
“See?” the sect leader said, putting his arm around her waist. “No problem. Anyway, she’ll stick to killing bad people from now on, it’s fine.”
The lady smiled. There were many teeth in that smile, and they were very sharp.
“If she doesn’t, I’ll have my first wife discipline her,” the sect leader added and her smile abruptly disappeared.
Nie Zonghui coughed into his hand, but reluctantly admitted that maybe this wouldn’t turn out to be as bad as all that.
-
“Huaisang is a lovely name,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said, being the best of them at diplomacy when she put her mind to it, although admittedly it was something she did only very rarely. “I think we were just expecting something a little different, that’s all.”
“Possibly something a little more fox related,” Nie Zonghui’s father said.
“Please,” the sect leader’s second wife said. “That would be gauche.”
They looked at her.
“…all of my suggestions along those lines got rejected,” she admitted, and glared at the small shrine in the corner as if it had personally wronged her. In this context, it very well might have.
“Is there anything we should keep an eye out for?” Nie Zonghui said, watching his little cousin carry around his even littler cousin under his arm as if he were a sack of potatoes and not a baby that hadn’t yet had its first month celebration. He would have interfered but for the fact that little Nie Huaisang seemed to be notably more in control of his various limbs than the usual infant. “A tail, for instance?”
“Oh, no,” the second lady said. “Nothing like that.”
“Great,” Nie Zonghui said. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“It’s very rare for fox children to achieve a grand plot worthy of a tail in their first lifetime.” A pause. “From what I understand, that is.”
“Great,” Nie Zonghui said. “…great.”
“You’ll take good care of him when I’m gone, won’t you?” she asked, and when they all looked at her, smiled. “Not for another year or two, don’t worry, but I really can’t stay here that long. Sometimes, a girl’s got urges she has to take care of.”
“The sort of urges where we’d need to hunt down a mysteriously appearing fox yao for having murdered a lot of people?”
“I already promised to stop killing people,” she said sulkily. “Although I do think I made some plausible arguments in favor of a little bit of entirely justified murder in connection with the Jin sect and maybe the Lan sect and, oh, the Jiang sect –”
“Please don’t.”
“It’s not my fault your Great Sects are all headed by men who wrong women.”
“You’re not wrong,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said, and Nie Zonghui’s father looked alarmed. “But still, don’t.”
“You’re such spoilsports. But no, as it happens, it’s getting to that time when I need to return home for a while to pay my respects to the older generation.”
“How often does that happen?” Nie Zonghui’s father asked. “Once a century?”
“A gentleman shouldn’t ask a lady her age,” she sniffed. “At any rate, my family home is rather far away and they’re fairly insular, so I’ll probably be gone for at least a decade or so. I’d take the baby with me, but, well, you know, long travel and all. He’s better off sticking with his father.”
“All right,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said. “We understand, and we’ll help take care of him as best we can.”
“I’m glad.”
“We have only one thing to ask of you in return.”
Their second lady arched her delicate eyebrows.
Nie Zonghui’s mother smiled. “You be the one to tell your sister-in-law that you’re leaving your post.”
“…you know, on second thought, maybe I can push my departure out a few more years…”
-
“Before you say anything, I want to be clear right now that I don’t need a third wife,” their sect leader said. “I’m fine.”
“Sect Leader,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said, not unaffectionately. “You’re not allowed a third wife.”
“And therefore – wait, really?” he asked, a little skeptically. “You’re not concerned about me?”
“Oh, we’re very concerned about you,” Nie Zonghui’s father said. “But not in that specific respect. Some celibacy would probably be good for you, at least in terms of increasing your life expectancy.”
“…my sister is lying in wait with a cleaver to make sure she doesn’t have to take on the duties of Nie-furen again, isn’t she.”
“I’m not discounting that possibility, but don’t worry about it, it’s fine, we’ll talk to her. The Lan sect haven’t had a proper hostess in years either, we can just say we’re following their example.”
The sect leader eyed his cousins beadily. “They haven’t had a proper sect leader in years, either.”
“No, you don’t say,” Nie Zonghui’s mother said dryly. “What a coincidence -”
“You have two fine sons,” Nie Zonghui’s father said hastily. “That seems like enough, really.”
“You don’t think they need a mother…?”
“Sect Leader,” Nie Zonghui interjected politely. “While we admit that it may be within your capabilities to be able to find a mother willing to deal with one step-son who has been waiving around a saber taller than he is since he learned to walk and has a penchant for the unyielding, unmerciful and very violent application of the norms of divine justice –”
Nie Mingjue’s presence bolstered the spirit of good men, while his gaze seemed to make evildoers itch. He was the most earnestly good person Nie Zonghui had ever met, and also one of the most stiff and unbending in respect to what he believed should and should not be done.
Unfortunate that his standards didn’t seem to match up to the needs of either human law or diplomacy…
“– as well as another who can scheme circles around anyone and persuade them of anything as long as he puts his mind to it and only doesn’t because he’s too busy lazing around in the sun to bother –”
Nie Huaisang liked to file his nails down to something that looked quite normal, but they grew sharp quickly enough if he wasn’t paying attention, and he had a penchant for pranks. There was nothing quite as unnerving as running into a sudden and unexpected ambush and then suddenly hearing the shrill peal of a fox’s laughter, hidden behind a scholarly fan.
“– but all things considered, we’d really rather you - didn’t.”
His mother and father nodded fervently.
“Good,” the sect leader said, though he still looked suspiciously at them as if he thought they were hiding something. “Good. As long as we’re agreed.”
-
Nie Zonghui walked in on his sect leader pinning the Wen sect leader to a wall, murmuring something in a low voice with a very particular smile on his face, and then he turned around and walked right back out again.
The sect leader of the Wen sect might appear beautiful and young, but he was at least a generation older than the Nie sect leader. Not that that had stopped the latter from relying on their respective positions to refer to him in startlingly intimate terms – my dear A-Han, the sect leader would say with a touch of wickedness that reminded one of his second son and the tiger gall bravery of his first – and while at first the Wen sect leader had taken it as a challenge to his authority, an act of brash insolence, it appeared that they had progressed beyond that.
That the Wen sect leader already had three wives and two concubines apparently didn’t present any obstacles either – except perhaps in what those poor women might have to endure from their husband when he returned from the wretched teasing he was enduring. Nie Zonghui felt a bit of pity for them.
Shortly thereafter, he felt a bit of pity for himself. The Wen sect had long dreamed of dominating the cultivation world and sought to increase their influence with the other sects through underhanded means, with the Nie sect opposing them at every turn. Even if war was not on the immediate horizon, the wise could smell its distant approach in the air - the best estimates said that it would take another decade or two to arrive, unless the Nie sect leader took an especially hard stance.
It appeared, however, that the Nie sect leader had chosen to take a different sort of…hard stance.
Ugh.
Maybe Nie Zonghui could conspire to throw his sect leader into a cage with a live tiger in heat next time he felt in the mood. It’d probably be less dangerous.
Nie Zonghui had assumed that the first person to talk to him about what he had seen would be his sect leader, even if it was only to remind him of the general rule that the sect leader had ultimate power and therefore could exercise his own bad judgment in deciding to fuck whoever he wished, but instead it was the Wen sect leader that found him later that afternoon.
A flush had yet to fully fade from his cheeks, and Nie Zonghui raised his eyes to the ceiling to avoid looking directly at the man in front of him. 
He did not want to know. Others might, given that no one had ever complained about the looks of either party, but he himself had realized long ago that he had no interest in matters of the flesh under any circumstances; he was very content with that conclusion.
“Is there some service this one can provide to Sect Leader Wen?” he asked politely, and it was only when the sect leader flushed again that he realized belatedly that his words could be misconstrued. After all, his own sect leader had probably already made a similar offer regarding the provision of services…
“Your sect leader has a sister, doesn’t he?” the other man asked, his voice tight and his hands in even tighter fists. “I’m not misremembering that?”
“He does,” Nie Zonghui responded honestly, and not without sympathy for the Wen sect leader’s position. He was given to understand that making certain belated discoveries regarding one’s own preferences could be highly disconcerting, particularly later in life. “But she’s rather different in kind than what you may be thinking, so it won’t work out that way. It wouldn’t work even if she wasn’t already married, which she is.”
After a moment of thought, he added, “Also, consider your predecessors.”
The Wen sect leader’s eyes narrowed.
-
Really, it was the sect leader’s own damn fault that he got himself murdered.
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scintillasofbeomgyu · 4 years ago
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-ˏˋ⋆ ̥ 𝗳𝗼𝘅'𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗮𝗲𝘁𝗵 – part one: the beginning (cyj)
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pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader x kang taehyun
genre(s): fantasy, period!fic, nine-tailed fox!yeonjun, crown prince!taehyun, angst, fluff here and there
word count: 4,1k
the spirit who had been guarding the south side of the mountain, a nine-tailed fox, is requested by the crown prince of Joseon to make an appearance before his betrothed. though reluctant at first, he agrees on condition that their meeting is fleeting and under the guise of a mask.
an: this was inspired by the kdrama ‘tale of the nine-tailed’, hence the similar elements. events may or may not be historically accurate. ++ i’m really anxious about how this fic will be taken, but i’ve put too much effort in to let it sit in my drafts ksks. might post the part 2 if you want! let me know what you think!
(finally posting this as a gift for the immense support i’ve been receiving! thank you! ❤️ and low-key bc sumi has been thinkin about kitsune yeonjun)
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Sealed by the promise of two youths many moons ago, your betrothal to the crown prince of Joseon was something which was not unbeknownst to anyone in the country. Many young ladies, noble and common alike, coveted your fortune and would make desperate pleas to the gods to have half the luck you did. And perhaps anyone else would have boasted about how fate had favoured them, but you didn’t.
“(Y/n)? Are you listening?” his highness asked, raising an eyebrow as you continued to flip through the pages of a book you had picked up from his desk. You placed the book back where you found it and turned to look from the pavilion, out across the pond and above the canopy tops to the mountains in the distance.
What had intrigued you about the palace was not the status, nor the riches, nor the people who dwelt within it. After all, you preferred to be neck-deep in books of history and literature, poetry, and volumes which questioned which was myth and which was reality. Your father, though, was as open-minded as anyone else was about the education of women at the time – not at all. So you had resorted to killing two birds with one stone; appeasing your father by agreeing to meet with the prince meant getting your hands on books you wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else.
But today, you had an entirely different motive.
“Do you believe in mythical beings, your Highness?” you asked, turning to face the prince who stared back at you, wide-eyed.
The seemingly sudden question had him taken aback.
From the very first meeting, you had puzzled Taehyun. Like you, although he knew he had to do it some day, the topic of his marriage hadn’t interested him. Or rather, it was more important to him that the person he would one day wed had the same interests as he did – the good of the people and the flourishing of the country.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t expect you to be as crazed about love and titles as the other noblewomen of Joseon were, at first. So he was pleasantly surprised when you had arrived at Gyeongbokgung, not batting an eyelash in his direction. But when he had attempted to open discussions about politics and solving the exorbitant taxes expected from the people, he’d find your nose buried in one of the books from the pile you sifted through by his desk.
Taehyun was already struggling to figure you out, and now you asked him this.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” he cocked his head to the side, folding his hands behind his back. “have you come across something thought-provoking?”
“It’s quite straightforward; a yes or no question.” you shrugged, smirking as your eyes caught the not-so-discreet glances his personal guard and the eunuch had given one another.
Ultimately, to have relations with the throne was not all sunshine and roses. For your own protection, and to ensure you were not used as leverage against the king, your father had sent you very far from home – to Southern Jeolla. And it was upon your arrival back in Hanyang, after many years away, that you had come to hear the rumours which had surrounded the royal family.
A gumiho. A nine-tailed fox. The spirit which protected the forest. A being which could not be trusted. The one to whom the country owed it’s prosperity. The one at whose hands the country could fall into havoc.
You knew better than to believe the words of storytellers and self-proclaimed chroniclers. It was the fact that they had all said the same thing which had perturbed you. It left this unsettling feeling, which just wouldn’t fade away. So you read book after book, folklores and retellings, each and every documented account of those who had insisted they had seen the man with ‘eyes which glowed like hot embers even in the light of day’. It nearly drove you insane.
That was, until just this morning, when you had overheard the court ladies chattering away in hushed tones about how so-and-so had come to see the prince again, how much so-and-so frightened them, and how they wondered for how much longer the king would leave the future of the kingdom in the hands of such a wild-card.
You turned to look out beyond the trees again, a sudden gush of wind rattling their branches and sending their leaves sailing through the air. “Let me meet him. This... friend of yours, your Highness.”
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“No.”
Taehyun nodded, taking a leaf from the shrub in front of him between his fingers, “I thought you’d say that.”
Yeonjun huffed, taking a bite out of one of the freshly picked apples the prince had brought along with him on his visit (as some sort of incentive, he supposed). The scowl he had adorned etched deeper into his face as Taehyun’s proposition crossed his mind a second time. He should have left the boy to the wandering spirits all those years ago, is what he thought. The fact that Yeonjun had allowed him to follow him around and meet with him must have made him cocky.
In the beginning, he trusted them. Yeonjun had spent thousands of years cultivating the forest and protecting those which lived beneath it’s canopy. He had taken an oath to never allow any harm to come to it, and as a sort of by-product, had taken up an arrangement with the king to hand over to him any miscreants who chanced into his territory. And for hundreds of years, this agreement was honored. King after king had revered the spirit who protected the people, throwing grand festivals in his honor.
Until humans did what they always do. They became consumed by greed and corrupted by power. They feared that the existence of a powerful being, and the esteem in which the people held it, threatened the very authority of the throne.
On a night which felt like yesterday to Yeonjun, the then king had convinced him to appear before the people, reasoning that he deserved to be celebrated and loved; not lurking in the depths of a forest where he wondered alone. His yearning for family provoked, he had left, only to return to enormous crackling fires which devoured everything in their path.
Now he was being asked to entertain the likes of one of them again? An insolent, entitled woman who was probably the daughter of some power-hungry government official nonetheless? He wouldn’t allow himself to be made a fool out of again.
“I’m aware you cannot leave the forest unguarded for long periods of time, especially at night,” Taehyun said, brushing the bits of earth from his hand onto his silk garment. “which is why I want to bring her here.”
The half-eaten apple hit the forest floor with a thud.
“What did you just say?” the same incredulity written on Yeonjun’s face, embedded into his voice.
Taehyun grinned sheepishly, “Hyung, can’t you do me this one favour?”
Quickly taking a seat beside him, the crown prince of the Joseon dynasty grabbed onto the sleeve of Yeonjun’s black robe and tugged at it. Yeonjun sucked a sharp breath of air through his teeth and slapped his hands away. The memory of a scared little boy in disheveled clothes, sobbing as snot ran down onto his lips crossed Yeonjun’s mind. He bit back the grin which fought to pull at his lips.
“I thought you weren’t interested in love? Why all the effort then?”
Taehyun dropped his hands from where they had been grappling at Yeonjun’s robe and stood up, clearing his throat before folding his hands behind his back again. Yeonjun smirked. “It’s not by choice, the woman in question is frightening. Only the gods would know the lengths she would have gone to had I refused her.”
Many minutes of back and forth bickering had passed before Taehyun managed to convince Yeonjun to appear before you. This reluctant agreement came with conditions, however. Leaving the mountain for even a moment during nightfall was out of the question, but that didn’t mean that he was okay with some suspicious woman wandering into his home. So, they had settled on the foot of the mountain closest to the north side. Yeonjun had also made sure to point out that although he had agreed to let you see him, he never agreed to introductions.
“You never struck me as the type to attend parties in the evening, your Highness,” you hollered from your palanquin which lagged behind his. When no reply came, you seethed, biting back the urge to punch a hole through the expensive wooden barrier in front of you. He had suddenly appeared at your father’s estate just as the sun had dipped beyond the horizon, not bothering to give an explanation before your father had the guards stuff you into the tiny varnished vehicle. “You haven’t yet answered me, your Majesty. The question from earlier.”
You cried out in pain when the palanquin was suddenly set down, tossing you up in the air like a shuttlecock. Hand still pressing down on your head from where it had hit the roof of the palanquin, you glared at Taehyun’s outstretched hand when the door folded open. You violently slapped the hand away and pulled back your skirt, nearly kicking his shins as you climbed out. Accidentally, of course.
Your behaviour amused Taehyun, a smirk finding its way to his lips. He whispered something to Soobin, his personal guard, who had given him a distressed look in return. He sighed as Taehyun placed a hand on his shoulder, giving a quick nod before returning to the entourage. You raised an eyebrow when Taehyun offered you a smile, gesturing his hand to the left of where the road forked into two.
The evening air was brisk; the various flora emitting a plethora of unique smells which blended together as they crawled into your nose. Leaves rustled as the forest creatures scurried across the floor; the occasional flapping of wings and hoots of the wide-eyed, mice-eating predators filling the otherwise eerie silence. The pale moon, which shone like a great halo in the sky, casted it’s light through the trees, creating beautiful natural skylights and mysterious shadows. The breeze was ever-so gentle, seemingly caressing your cheeks as you followed Taehyun down the path filled with earthy soil.
“You’re going to kill me aren’t you?” He chuckled at the question you had posed. He took a firm hold of your hand as he helped you cross the stream you had encountered, squeezing it a little tighter as your shoe glided off some algae, smiling when he heard the under-the-breath cuss.
When you had both safely crossed over into the field of long grass on the other side of the bank, he caught his breath for a moment. “My men say there came a troupe from Jeonju in Northern Jeolla a few days back,” Taehyun started, motioning for you to follow behind him as he stalked through the vegetation.
You groaned. Just how much torture was he planning to put you through? Did he find out you had ‘borrowed’ some of the books from his shelf?
After another few dreadful minutes of walking, an enormous tree came into your sights. It’s trunk looked as if it could house a small population, and it’s branches spread far across the open space; a meadow. Taehyun smiled in satisfaction and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, before placing his hands on his hips. Was this what he wanted to show you? You were far too tired, and your feet hurt way too much to enjoy the sentiment.
“Right, as I was saying,” The prince continued. You took a seat on the soft blades of grass and began pulling the shoes off your aching feet. “Despite journeying across the country to perform in gisaeng houses, I’m told the productions of this troupe were rather enthralling – ”
The sound of your snorting earned a glare from the prince. You shook your hand, “I find myself in constant surprise this evening, your Highness,” you laughed. “Hearing the term‘gisaeng’ from your mouth would send chills down anyone’s spine.”
The distant strumming of a zither whispered in your ears and your body froze. Slowly, the field, which had been lit only by the silvery hues offered by the moon, glowed in shades of green and yellow as fireflies hovered in the air. Then the zither stopped. Your neck snapped in the direction of scuffling feet by the tree trunk. Figures dressed in black placed paper lanterns varying in size at the base of the trunk, before scaling up to the branches.
A gasp slipped from your lips when the zither had suddenly started playing again; much louder this time. Ribbons dropped from different branches around the tree, carrying men and women who spun as they unravelled. Sporting white masks in the form of a fox, they danced around the tree, twirling and swinging back, dipping low before soaring through the air with such delicacy it gave you goosebumps.
“This performance is called the Fox’s Hiraeth,” Taehyun whispered, eyes fixated on the scene before of him, “you asked the other day did you not? About gumihos in Hanyang.”
His Highness’ attempt to throw you off was painfully obvious in that moment, and it did not go unnoticed. But just before you could make the remark that you had been carefully curating for exactly this situation, the zither had come to a stop once again. Leaves rustled above you and you lifted your head into a pair of the prettiest eyes you had ever seen.
They were a shade of light brown; little flecks of green and amber peeking from in-between when light passed through them. Bewilderment swam in those sparkling orbs behind the mask, it’s wearer holding his breath, not looking away for even a moment. The feeling in your chest drew a smile onto your lips, so big, it pushed up the corners of your eyes.
“Hello.”
He pulled back suddenly, and a strong gust of wind blew right through you, making you squeeze your eyes shut. The wind seemed to blow harder and harder – Taehyun had to press his hands onto your shoulders to prevent you from being gone with it. When it had died down and you opened your eyes again, you shot up, shoving his hands away.
The lights had gone out and the fireflies were nowhere to be seen. The lanterns and the troupe too had vanished into thin air; leaving not a trace. But that was not what was distressing you.
Hands clenching fists into your satin skirt, your eyes searched desperately, “where did he go?”
“Who?” Taehyun questioned, tightening the black cloth strings of his gat. He blinked, feigning innocence so professionally, it antagonised you. “The performance is over; we should leave.”
Pulling your lips between your teeth, the agonizing feeling of having lost something important tearing at your chest, you made a decision. You were positive that Taehyun knew exactly what was going on, but you weren’t about to waste any more time trying to force an answer out of the tight-lipped prince.
Where the meadow under the peculiar tree ended, the forest started again, and spread all across the mountain. You could have been mistaken, and that man may have just been another one of the performers. But it was the forest. It felt as if it was calling out to you; screaming. Every one of your limbs ached to dash into its depths.
Taehyun cleared his throat and turned away instantaneously when he noticed you hurriedly tearing off your blouse. You tossed the garment carrying the golden emblem to the ground, and slipped your shoes back on, ignoring Taehyun’s voice which bombarded you with questions.
He grabbed onto your hand before you left and you stopped, peering down at where your bodies were joined. “It’s dangerous.” he said; his voice as firm as his grip, yet eyes pleading with you like those of a child.
Despite your fathers’ lasting friendship, you had never met Taehyun until a few days ago. And if you did, you couldn’t recall. The confounded stares he had thrown at you upon your arrival had amused you; they were not contrary to that of the other noblemen and their sons whom your father had introduced you to. You didn’t act like the prince’s woman – they had probably expected someone who they could easily manipulate and bribe to their liking – but you were very much the opposite.
It was his behaviour in the days that followed which had taken you by surprise. He’d have books stacked up all around his desk which varied in genre, and were organised by author and publication date, whenever you visited. He seldom spoke and never forced conversation with you, but he’d call for tea and sweets then leave them at a certain place on the tabletop untouched. You’d catch his eyes glancing up at you every once in a while in your peripheral vision, and a smile would find itself to your lips.
He cared for you and you had grown to care for him as well. But you knew that if you left with him right now, your insatiable curiosity would only grow and you’d just end up returning here anyway.
Placing your hands over his, eyes asking him to forgive you, you slipped out of his grasp.
“I’ll be okay.”
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Yeonjun paced up and down the cliff once more. He glanced over his shoulder at the mask resting against a boulder behind him, then slapped his hands onto his face and lamented. He couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong. Everything was happening exactly as he had planned – the dokkaebi had put on their show, relishing in the fact that they were pranking humans; the trees, the breeze and the critters had agreed to set the mood for what he had intended to be your heart being won over by the Taehyun.
He peeked through the spaces in his fingers at the wooden guise, and proceeded toward it. He knelt down and picked it up, eyes fixating on the slots where they were housed previously. He was certain he had prepared for everything, but that all changed when his eyes met with yours.
They stared back at him in surprise, but that surprise slowly transitioned into a warmth which enveloped him; the light of the lanterns which reflected from them, inviting him closer. They scared him, too. Under the mask he had given himself the appearance of one of the lumberers who frequented the forest, but your eyes seemed to stare right through him. They reached into his depths, baring him before you.
Yeonjun glared, irritated with how foolish he had been. He should have trusted his instinct and refused Taehyun no matter how much he insisted. It was absurd that after all these centuries he still let himself fall prey to the ludicrous fantasy he would ever be able to live and feel as they do – he knew that was the real reason he had gone along with this preposterous idea.
His grip on the mask tightened before he hurled it into the bushes. Your voice exclaimed an ‘Ow!’, making him topple over in surprise. The golden rays of sun spilled over the summit just as you stepped out from the flora, bathing you in it’s warmth and highlighting your features as it chased away the night. You rubbed your head profusely where the mask had hit you, pausing when you noticed Yeonjun’s figure on the floor.
Hands on your hips, smiling in triumph, you blew the stray strands of hair from your face. “Found you.”
He had never in his life met such a vivacious woman. Your hair looked like a bird’s nest; tiny twigs and leaves buried within the now tousled black locks. There were tears in your hanbok. Stains of dirt, grass and mud soiled the skirt. Alas, you still had a stupid smile plastered across your mucky face. He caught himself before he started grinning like an idiot too, shuffling amongst the earth before rising with his back turned towards you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. Was he looking down on your intellect?
“You’re not very clever for an ancient spirit,” you remarked, tossing the mask at his feet. His frame froze, making you scoff.
The hair cascading down his back was a pale shade pink which shimmered under the light. It contrasted the pitch black robes he adorned, which were embroidered with silver. When he turned around to give you a look of wry amusement, you noticed the bangs which framed his face were more washed out in colour compared to the rest of his head. His slanted eyes were mono-lidded, and they glistened as beautifully as the night before. His lips were plump; it’s colour reminded you of the strawberry tanghulu you had seen in the market.
He stepped closer to you, smirking at the way you were entranced by his beauty, until his face stood only inches away from yours. You cast your eyes away from him, gulping as you took a step back. His eyebrows furrowed when you cringed, staggering before you fell to the ground.
“Are you alright?” he fretted, the role of the charismatic flirt quickly abandoning him as he helped you to your feet. He wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you into his arms, and carried you to a place where you could sit comfortably. You gripped only his garments tightly, eyes still refusing to meet with his; the scent of flowers lingering on your clothes as he set you down. “His Majesty did not accompany you?”
He knelt down beside you and pulled off your shoes. Blood had soaked into your socks from all the hiking you had done the night before – the back of your shoes had cut deep into your heels; climbing over boulders and through thick vegetation had made the soles of your feet sensitive and prone to cuts and scratches. He pulled his lip between his teeth, eyes shooting daggers into yours.
He poured some of the alcohol he had been storing over your wounds, and massaged in the compound he made of medicinal herbs he had momentarily disappeared to go and find. He tore pieces of his robe to bind them when he was finished, then folded his arms over his chest. “I’m taking you back to the palace.”
You jolted up from where you were seated; Yeonjun pushed your shoulders back down. “None of my questions have been answered, I’m not leaving until they are.”
“Don’t you have a prince to marry?” he contended, tapping a finger on his chin, “they’re not going to be impressed when you return looking like this.”
“What’s your name? Are you really a nine-tailed fox? How old are you? Do you eat human livers? If so, why? Is it true that you are only able to receive titles like the ‘Spirit of the Mountain’ when you don’t feed human on livers? Are you actually a woman? Do you really want the best for this country? Do you wish to bring it to ruin for your own pleasure? Is it true that – ”
He took a step closer to you, and lifted your chin with his finger, closing your mouth. You held your breath as his eyes flickered to your lips, and he smirked noticing the blush spread across your face. He reached behind you and pulled the jade pin from your hair, the tresses falling gently down your back. Bringing the hairpin before you, and his lips to your ear, he whispered, “I dare not rob the future king of his woman, my lady. You should return home for your own safety.”
His hand travelled down the length of your arm, trailing goosebumps and setting fire to your skin. He placed the pin into your hand and lifted it, brushing his lips across your knuckles. His eyes locked with yours and you gasped as they glowed like a setting sun.
A horse whinnied as it strode into the area, making you tear your eyes away from Yeonjun’s. Taehyun slid off it’s back, rushing to your side. He grabbed onto your shoulders brows furrowing as he examined you from top to bottom. “Are you alright, (Y/n)?”
You nodded absent-mindedly, searching for where he had gone. Taehyun led you to his horse, and lifted you onto the saddle, sighing as he found you still trying to see past the trees and their leaves. You squeezed onto your chest as you rode away, an inexplicable feeling overtaking you. You had to see him again. Not out of curiosity. No, you – you just had too.
Yeonjun held onto the trunk of the pine tree and swung his body around from the backside. Watching you ride off into the distance, eyes still set on finding him, he sighed, twirling the ring he had slipped off your finger around his.
“(Y/n), huh?” he muttered under his breath, exhilarated by the way it rolled off his tongue.
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redrose-arrow · 3 years ago
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For the emoji ask game: Maddie 🏳️‍🌈, 💖, 😋, 🛌, 🥖, 🏡, 🗡, ❓What is she like when she's sick?
(I know it's a lot lol, but I really like her and I know a lot of people don't, but wished she's talked about more)
MADDIE HONEY I LOVE HER <3
Don't worry about it being a lot!!! I absolutely adore Maddie and am very excited to share these headcanons, I hope you enjoy them <3.
Sexual orientation: OKAY SO I have Maddie’s entire love life mapped out, hear me out. When she first met Dimon during that summer, she did feel a certain attraction to him, though at the time she wasn’t sure if it could be categorised as “love”. Maddie and Dimon had a torrid summer fling, but she didn’t like it as much as she thought she would - or, actually, as much as she thought she should. After the whole Duel at Araluen ordeal, she and Ingrid grew a lot closer. Yes, Maddie gives off big Lesbian Vibes. BUT she’s not comfortable being open about her feelings in public. After a few years, most of the Castle staff knows about the not-so-platonic relationship between the Crown Princess and one of the Ladies-in-Waiting. To the world, however, Maddie is somewhat of an ice queen, incapable of love. She ends up adopting.
Happy: Everyone’s a little fuzzy on how exactly it happened and who precisely is responsible for which one, but basically as a baby Maddie received four stuffed animals that she still has: a fox, a black bear, a butterfly, and a crane. She never knew why, just grew very attached to them. If she has the space, she’ll bring them with her everywhere, as they provide comfort even in the most foreign of places. She also brought them to the cabin. When Will caught sight of the four animals sitting on her bed, he smiled. Maddie was confused. “What?”
Funny/Stupid: It literally took many years before Maddie realised her mother’s name was “Cassandra”, not “Cassie”. Sure, the Crown-Princess/Queen-Regent was always officially announced as “Cassandra”, but it’s not like Maddie tended to pay attention to those moments anyways. Her dad, grandfather, and Crowley always addressed her as “Cassie”, so she just assumed that that was her name. It wasn’t until one day, when she overheard Will refer to her mother as “Evanlyn”, and she asked him who Evanlyn was. He sighed, smiled, and said “I know your mother’s name is actually Cassandra, but-”. “WhAT?” That’s how she found out.
Sleep: She's actually always been really good at faking her sleep, even before Will taught her the fine skills of it. It was a useful skill, after all, if she wanted to sneak out at night and convince her parents that she was already soundly asleep when they checked up on her.
Food: There’s one (1) that Maddie can make really well and that’s bread. She just Knows Dough. So she likes baking bread each day, trying different varieties and what not. (Cassandra’s favourite is banana bread, by the way, so Maddie has perfected her version of it. Horace’s favourite is a focaccia of sorts, Will’s is fig bread.)
Domestic: Maddie actually likes doing dishes. It’s a simple and straightforward task that allows both for thinking about other things or for not thinking at all. Also, sometimes, when the food won’t come off, it’s great to violently scrub the plate. That does not mean, however, that she’ll let Will off the hook every night.
Badass: She cuts her own hair. Contrary to some other Rangers, however, she uses scissors instead of a knife. Also, it actually looks good.
What is she like when she’s sick? As has been noted, Maddie’s periods are Not Good but she powers through them. When she was younger and had even the slightest ache, she’d act so dramatically servants initially thought she was dying. That ended when Will made her do the obstacle run and everything even when hungover. Interestingly, Maddie is the only Smart Sick. By this I mean that she will still do her stuff when she’s sick, but she also gives herself time to recover. Halt has noted that she’s a lot smarter than her mentor in that regard.
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masqueradeball · 3 years ago
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How about number 3? Like, tell us all about it if you want :)
Oh my gosh 🥺 thank you so much for giving me my first ask! 💖 I'm eternally grateful I get to spill all my pheels out.
3. What is my favorite Phantom tv/film adaptation?
My absolute favorite Phantom is the 1925 Lon Chaney silent film. He just embodies everything that I like about Gaston Leroux's Erik for me and he is both horrifying and pitiable. I dislike the ending but I can live with it given it's what test audiences wanted at the time. I truly love his Red Death costume. You can find it on Youtube and the Tubi app for free.
My first runner up would be Claude Raines in the 1943 because his Erique so soft and tragic in that film I cannot help but love him. This was one was my grandma's favorite 'classic monster' movies that she loved, so I have a special place in my heart for this one. I love his hair and appreciate that he was one fine silver fox before the revenge and jealousy issues set in. The opera parts are a little boring, but the costumes and the sassy diva rival to Christine are worth the watch. We get 2 handsome Raouls who end up going to dinner together at the end of the movie and a Christine who gets to bask in the limelight of her career while not choosing any suitor, which is the best possible outcome for her. Double play for the win in my book! You can watch it for free on the Peacock app.
My next runner up is a 3 way tie between Robert Englund, Gerard Butler, and Charles Dance.
I honestly enjoy all their performances because they each bring something unique to the role.
I cannot stress enough how violent the Robert Englund version is if you want to give it a go, but Erik Destler is insane, twisted, and fabulously murdertastic in this. I love the creepy, evil vibes the man gives off. Think of this film as a time travel AU of the original novel. I feel like he nailed Leroux Erik's darker, snarky personality that some people tend to forget he had and the gothic horror parts of the original novel are there. Bonus: they keep the Faust parallels like in the novel!
I'm gonna say it: I love the Charles Dance miniseries. I know it's not the best, but damn, he is so dry and sarcastic I cannot help but enjoy his performance. I want to pinch his cheeks and smother Cherik with the love his father never gave him everytime I see him. Again, this one focuses on the operas a lot, and for me it's a bit boring. But the backgrounds, settings, and props in this thing are fantastic and the costumes are wonderful too.
That leaves Gerard Butler in the 2004 movie. No he is not the world's greatest singing Phantom, but I don't care. I absolutely love his facial expressions and body language. The Phantom is an emotional, expressive dude and the Red Death costume scene is pretty good. I love how kind and sincere Emmy feels in this film and I appreciate she's not overracting and doesn't feel fake compared to some other Christines *coughSierracough* Being the film version of the ALW musical, this Phantom story focuses on the romance and Gerard excels at that. When he and Christine are singing Past the Point of no Return, I FEEL THEIR PASSION! And that's what counts more so than hitting the same notes we've all heard a million times before.
Now for the versions in the 'I will eternally like this' category 😊 :
The Phantom of the Paradise from 1974. This is also a very violent and dark film so fair warning if you haven't seen it. It's a bizarre rock musical, but if you're weird like me and enjoy Rock & Rule or the Rocky Horror Picture Show, this might be a film you'd like too. I don't want to spoil it too much but the Faust/devil parallels are here too, as is various pop culture references. His teeth and mask are terrifyingly cool, and so is the electronic voice box he uses. It makes sense Daft Punk was inspired by this film. Maybe G1 Soundwave was inspired by this film too, but that's a debate for another day 😉
Next is the animated 1988 film. This one features animation on par with other 80s tv cartoons of the time. I love that they kept the Persian and the torture chamber from the novel. The Phantom's death scene is pretty damn epic. Christine is kind of a flake, but animated Leroux Erik is hilariously insane and terribly charming, especially when he calls himself a Don Juan. It's worth watching just for his antics and his dialouge.
You might not expect a Goosebumps episode to do a Phantom story any justice, but here we are: 1995, The Phantom of the Auditorium is a spooky fun take on the story and honestly, I'd like to see the full play the kids at that school are putting on cause it looks better than some of the live Phantom stage scenes I've seen. Both young boys playing the Phantom are fantastic actors and the plot twist at the end is great.
I absolutely have to give a shout out to Wishbone's Pantin at the Opera. He is the best, cutest, most adorable Raoul de Chagney ever and I will fight you if you dare talk smack about this version. I'm not even a Raoul stan by any means but like, this dog is precious and I enjoy this episode so much.
Also in the animated category and cute dog category is Scooby Doo Stage Fright made back in 2013. This movie is one of my fave Scooby Doo films (yes I own almost all of them on dvd) and there are multiple Phantoms, a reality tv show contest, and Fred and Daphne finally kiss each other! Lots and lots of hidden Phantom references in the background and lots of voice acting talent for those of us who appreciate that.
Now for the versions I intensely dislike 😏
The 1962 Herbert Lom version. UGH where to start. The sets are so small and everything looks dirty and of the wrong time period. The color in the film looks washed out. The clothes look too modern somehow (maybe it's their hairstyles?) and it bothers me. It feels low budget in a bad way and it shows. This phantom is not likeable or pitiable even though his backstory is similar to the Claude Raines version. He has no romantic interest in Christine, so it feels off. This guy is such an old a$$ piece of sh*t, he literally slaps Christine as she's singing for him for no damn reason. His paper mache mask looks like a Kindergartener's botched art class project. His personality is like somebody locked up cranky grandpa in the basement and he's PMS-ing because y'all forgot to give him his daily prune juice. This squatter's lair lacks creepiness, and his bizarre sidekick is annoying and yet somehow more interesting than the Phantom. The pervert manager trying to bang Christine aggravated me and simultaneously made me want to vomit. Raoul is the only likeable character in the whole damn movie. The Joan of Arc opera scene makes up for some of the film, but it's still terrible.
Next on my meh list is the 1983 made for tv movie starring Micheal York and Jane Seymour. Now, this one has some likeable and applaudable scenes: the various murders and general creepiness of the Phantom, and the lair scene when she wakes up in his bed and the Phantom gets all up in her face is so intense and so Leroux I absolutely love it. The rest of the film is a jumbled hot mess at best, but Jane Seymour is 🔥 and she gets some damn good sex, so hell yeah to that!
And lastly, I do not like the Royal Albert Hall 25th anniversary recording. I should preface this by saying it is Sierra I don't like. I like Ramin, I love Hadley, everyone else is wonderful but I cannot stand Sierra. She tries too hard to make Christine a Disney Princess- and that doesn't fly with me. It comes off as insincere or mocking the source material at best, and at worst it makes Christine look like an airheaded ditz. Apparently Sierra played Ariel at one point which is hilarious because of all the Disney princesses, I dislike her the most. But that's a different rant for another day.
And finally, the one I hate most of all:
The 1998 Argento film. This is the worst Phantom adaptation I've ever seen. It is a whole lotta nope for me. Between the rats, the unecessary and pointless telepathy, the r*pe scene, and the unfunny weird vibe from the murder going on in this film it's a disaster from start to finish. Honestly, it's the rats and his hair that bother me from a visual standpoint alone and it's beyond disgusting the way this a$$🤡 treats Christine. I don't like any of the characters in here and for good reason. It's not worth watching and if you do, be ready to bleach your brain afterwards.
💖 Sorry if this was a long read! Thanks again for giving me an ask and I will cherish it forver!!!! 💖
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gryffindor-jedi · 4 years ago
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The Night Fox - Chapter 2
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Based on @royalhandmaidens Vigilante Commander Fox theory. The story will eventually lead into Foxiyo and a happy au.
Sorry for the really long delay. Also, this chapter doesn't have any Night Fox scenes because there's some important background plot, but the vigilante shall return in the next chapter!
Prologue • Chapter 1
Summary: The Night Fox takes a hiatus, and Fox's life is turned upside down, maybe for the better.
Word count: 1374 words
Two weeks after getting the special armor, which Fox stored in a secure vault, where he looked at it at least once a day but never took it outside the safe, the lower levels of Coruscant had changed dramatically. For more than a week now, there were hardly any kidnappings, street fights, or anything even slightly disorderly. Illegal activity seemed to have disappeared altogether, which should have been a cause for jubilation. Yet, something kept nagging at him, and for the first time after the Chuchi incident, Fox was unable to sleep. He hadn't seen the Pantoran senator since that nightly encounter, mostly because the Senate was apparently handling more urgent matters. Not being in command of the Coruscant Guard should have bothered him, but Fox just felt free. Until today. The lack of nighttime activity was making him feel restless, and that night, Fox started pacing and kept on pacing in the barracks.
“How long have you been up?” Thorn asked.
“Uhm… That depends on when you woke up.” Fox said looking up, startled. Judging by Thorn's expression, he guessed that he had paced the entire night.
“Kriffing show-off! Lousy amateur!” Stone cried out angrily.
“Are you all right?” Thorn asked, his tone surprisingly kind.
“Oh, hey! It's nothing, nothing, just the same stupid Holonet hero that's been on the headlines for almost two weeks now.” Stone answered, slightly abashed.
“Don't be embarrassed Stone, these articles are maddening!” Thire interjected. “I know it shouldn't be bothering me, but this is just so ridiculous. Some Night Fox saves some young girl from being kidnapped, and that girl just happens to be the daughter of Senator Orn Free Taa's aide's brother. Listen to this: The Night Fox has succeeded where the Coruscant Guard has failed. If a single man can stop something so horrendous in one night, then what has the entire Coruscant Guard been doing?”
Fox swallowed, and pressed his hands to his face. He had only announced his chosen name twice – once to a Twi'lek mother and daughter, and to Senator Chuchi. The girl and the woman had seemed very sweet, and he knew that saving the child had been the right thing to do. But what was the right thing to do now? The main reason the Coruscant Guard was unable to prevent these incidents was because their main duty was to escort senators and other high-level officials and dignitaries, which was an infuriating and tiring job. If the Holonet was using the Night Fox as an anti-clone mascot, then something needed to be done. Just as Fox opened his mouth to tell Thorn about the Night Fox, Rys rushed in.
“Commander Fox… Senator Chuchi… needs… you… to come in… for a hearing” panted Rys, out of breath.
“What!” Thorn stood straight up. “If this is a practical joke that you and Jek thought up, then you'll—”
“It's all right.” Fox patted Thorn's shoulder. “I'll be fine. Besides, the vacation was starting to bore me.”
Fox dashed out, putting all his energy into running and not thinking about the charges.
——————————————————————————
“Commander Fox, over here!” Senator Chuchi was waving.
“Where's the hearing? I came as soon as I got the message.” Fox asked, his heart thudding, and his palms clammy.
“The hearing, well, it didn't happen. Basically, what happened was more of a statement by a single senator, who claimed that the Coruscant Guard is not doing enough. So, a vote for a change of management was held, and well, I don't know how to say this, but you have been ordered to temporarily leave the Coruscant Guard headquarters, and relinquish your armor and weapons, by the order of the Supreme Chancellor.” Senator Chuchi said, her voice trembling. “I am so sorry, Fox. They didn't even give me a chance to present my argument.”
Fox just stood silently. He had just lost the closest thing he had to a home. What was he going to do?
“Senators Amidala and Organa have arranged for you to stay at an apartment, with meals delivered to you, until your temporary leave period is over.” Senator Chuchi continued, barely holding back tears.
“Senator Chuchi, Commander Fox, I have good news, great news actually!” Senator Amidala was strolling towards them. “The charges of treason against Commander Fox have been dismissed!”
“Wait, did you just say that the charges have been dismissed?” Fox asked, still stunned.
“Yes. Apparently, the senators believe that a clone is too unintelligent and weak to commit treason. While I don't agree with their reasoning, this means that in six months, you will be reinstated in the Coruscant Guard, with your original rank.” Senator Amidala beamed. “However, you will still need to relinquish your armor and weapons for the time being.”
“I guess I'll go tell Thorn the good news.” Fox let himself chuckle. What a relief! “Although, after six months under Thorn's command, I wonder what shape the Guard will be in, or if it will even exist.”
“Senator Chuchi will pick you up in her speeder and take you to your apartment, after her Senatorial duties are finished.” said Senator Amidala, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
“Sounds good, but I don't want to bother her.” Fox said, his happiness slightly fading.
“Don't worry, it won't be a bother. Your apartment is very close to hers.” Senator Amidala said firmly, in a tone that stopped any further discussion.
——————————————————————————
“Well, looks like I'm in charge now.” Thorn said, haughtily. “You must all obey me!”
“Cut it out, Thorn.” Fox smiled.
“Or else what, He Who Is No Longer Commander? What can you do?” Thire teased.
“Well, you'll see, in about six months.” Fox replied, in an ominous tone.
Stone started laughing, and soon Thorn and Thire were as well. Fox finished pulling off his armor, and gave it to Thorn.
“I'll keep this safe for you.” Thorn assured him. “I'll put it in the vault, unless you would like to?”
“I'd better put it in myself. I am the only one who knows the combination.” Fox said with another smile.
“I know the combination. I just have a tendency to forget it!” Thorn shouted at Fox, as the latter walked towards the vault.
Fox opened the vault, and after checking to see that no one was looking, gently removed the armor that Riyo Chuchi had given him. He placed the armor in his small knapsack, and put his own armor into the vault. He stood there for a few moments, trying to wrap his mind around what had happened.
“I'm here to pick up Commander Fox.” Senator Chuchi was talking to the other troopers. He should probably get to her speeder before someone, probably Thire, says something.
“You sly rascal!” teased Thire. “See you in six months!”
Struggling to keep his face from turning red, and silently cursing, Fox entered the speeder.
——————————————————————————
The apartment was very nice, far nicer than the barracks.
“I hope you like it!” said Senator Chuchi, with an awkward smile. “Here's a comlink to call me, anytime.”
“Thank you very much, Senator.” Fox replied, barely opening his mouth, lest he smile and make a fool of himself.
“Call me Riyo.” said Senator Chuchi, no Riyo, cheerfully. “Good night!”
“Good night!” Fox responded, with a soft smile.
“I hate it when Padméand Mon are right.” Riyo muttered, mentally saving Fox's smile in her memory permanently.
Fox continued smiling, and found an excellent place to hide his knapsack. The food on the table was so much better than any ration bar, the civilian clothing in the closet was comfortable, and the bed was incredibly cozy as well.
He was going to give the Night Fox a night off. So much had happened, and he wanted to analyze every moment. No, he wanted to replay everything that Riyo had said and did. Maybe it wasn't on the same scale as saving innocent civilians from violent criminals, but it still made him smile, and that was enough, at least for tonight.
Tag list: @penguinkiwi, @kris-styx
(send an ask to be added, since I'm having a hard time keeping track based on tags and comments)
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the196thbattalion · 5 years ago
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star wars human! high school! au
i’ve seen so many headcanons circling throughout the star wars tumblr about high school au’s, so i wanted to share my bit with all of you :D
anakin skywalker
five words: REBEL CHILD ON A MOTORCYCLE.
he doesn’t like riding the school bus because it makes him feel extremely claustrophobic, so he scrapped and scavenged up parts to make his own customized motorcycle, which he lovingly dubbed artoo.
the blue and silver detailing was the joint effort of ahsoka and obi-wan, because anakin doesn’t know how to paint.
if he can catch up to the bus, he’ll ride alongside it and flip off the students on it before revving on ahead of them. (the freshmen think it’s the funniest thing in the universe)
probably one of the most well-known juniors in the entirety of temple high school (mostly because of his shenanigans but partly because he’s dating padme fuckiNG AMIDALA, PRETTIEST GIRL IN THE DAMN SCHOOL)
he always wears this worn-down leather jacket his mom gave to him before she passed away, and refuses to take it off, even though it’s somehow “a violation of the dress code and should be outlawed.”
his hair alone has seduced eight different students (boys and girls)
sometimes during study hall, ahsoka or padme will get a hold of his hair and style it into little braids or make a super rad ponytail.
he really likes iced coffee with milk and sugar. he puts in the milk to make it nice and light (it’s aesthetically pleasing, obi-wan!), and then like eight tablespoons of sugar to make it actually taste good.
his favorite class is mechanics, taught by kit fisto.
anakin spent months on a mechanical arm project to replace his clunky plastic prosthetic, and he was so freaking happy when it was finished; he almost cried. (he did cry and ahsoka got it on video)
obi-wan kenobi
a mixture of the soft™, pretty™, hippie™, grunge™, vsco™ and nerd™ tropes.
he really likes peppermint tea with lots of honey but takes his coffee black.
he has had too much tea.
someone needs to stop him.
almost all of his classes are ap courses, and if cody hadn’t been watching when obi-wan was making his schedule, all of them would be.
him, cody and padme have ap english with mace windu, and cody knows how much his classes stress him out, so he lets obi-wan sleep during class and sends him the notes
the only ap class obi-wan doesn’t take is mechanics, and he shares that class with anakin.
anakin and obi-wan are super close with each other. kenobi was there when ahsoka was adopted, and anakin was there when kenobi got his cat. (they were like 5 okay)
“NAME IT C3PO OBI-WAN, OR I SWEAR TO FUCK-” “what kind of name is that, and why would i - anAKIN PUT HIM DOWN!?”.
mr. fisto constantly has to split them up for disrupting the class, but it’s almost like they can communicate telepathically, and the teachers have a running bet
mace windu literally bet $50 on these fucking nerds so you know it’s for realsies
in reality, they’ve just gotten super creative with passing notes.
kind of off topic, but he has these brown harry potter glasses that he uses (kinda for reading???? but mostly so he can do that anime pushing up glasses thing)
cody thinks it’s the funniest shit ever
whenever cody is feeling stressed, obi-wan just does the thing™ and BOOM! happiness.
people think he’s a goodie two shoes, and honestly, it’s really easy to think that. if the iconics are trying to do something stupid, he’s usually the voice of reason.
but parties?
you know what, just ask anakin for the video footage.
ahsoka tano
this hs!au ahsoka tano turned me bisexual confirmed ✔
okay before i go into her style, which is mainly what made me drool over my computer, can i just put skatergirl!ahsoka out there?
spray painting of the rebellion symbol all over the bottom of her board and on items in a couple of the places where she skates the most (like the back of an abandoned car yard)
her instagram is filled with these super cool vhs-tape recorded skate videos (u know)
lots crackhead 3am visits (starring anakin, rex, kenobi and barris) to a gas station to get slushies and grind the shit out of the curb connecting the store to the parking lot
trying to teach anakin how to skateboard but he just can’t figure it out? uh yes
“try to balance skyguy!” “HOW DO I MOVE? DO I SCOOT? SNIPS THIS ISN’T FUNNY AND I WANT TO GET OFF – GUYS, STOP LAUGHING!”
okay okay okay i’m done
for now
anyway, her style???? is so???? fucking????? cool!!!!!
her genetics gave her a 80% of having vitiligo, so it really wasn’t a surprise when patches of her skin got lighter, but it still freaked her out a little bit.
basically, went like this: “DAD, I’M TURNING WHITE!” “???? oh my gosh ‘soka, no.”
she has long braided dreadlocks she dyed a super bright orange with various colored beads woven into them with the help of anakin and padme. she usually styles them into little space buns atop her head.
her entire clothing wardrobe consists of fishnets, neon bomber jackets, at least 11 bisexual beanies™, handmade patchy jeans, white tank tops, and light-up platform shoes.
she doesn’t give two flying fucks about the dress code, and – IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MOST BUSY HALLWAY - punched principal sidious over whether or not she “could wear shorts that short” (anakin may or may not have cheered when she broke his nose).
the fetts (chuck have mercy)
*cracks le knuckles* i’ve put it off long enough
we have: fox (24), wolffe (19), cody (17), rex (17), echo (16), fives (16), boil (15), waxer (14), hardcase (13), jesse (12), longshot (8), kix (6), tup (3), gree (2) and boba (9mo)
wolffe is off at college - fox already graduated and moved out, that cheeky little fucking shit - but both still keep in good contact with the fam, and it’s a constant clamor between eleven of the siblings of who gets to talk to them first
fox majored in government/politics, bly is majoring in space/astronomy, and wolffe is majoring in police/law enforcement shit (i don’t know how college works, so sue me)
cody and rex are juniors, and despite their similar looks, the amount of schoolwork each of them completes drastically varies
cody is the honor roll student, valedictorian, whatever you want to call it
rex kinda just either does the work really well or 9/10 times gets distracted by anakin or ahsoka sending him some nice spicy memes
cody tried to tutor rex but it ended up almost landing tup in the hospital
“that’s really simple, actually. if you – vod? rex, are you okay? what are you oH NO TUP DON’T PUT THAT IN YOUR MOUTH-”
fetts on the varsity football team is like a right of passage in the family
right now, only the juniors of the fett family are on the team, but the coach has eyes on fives and echo for next years team
SPEAKING OF
echo, fives and boil are the infamous sophomore trio that pulled the milk bucket prank on the gym teacher, pong krell.
they had to help the janitor (99) clean up afterwards, but they genuinely enjoyed 99’s company, because he’s rad as shit and knows all the secret school passageways.
to be honest, not one person (except maybe sidious) was complaining
that motherfucker makes everyone run like eight laps during gym class
even mr. windu gives them a small smile in the hallways after that
boil says he was blackmailed into it
waxer is a freshman (the poor dude, i’m so sorry), and he always looks out for the nervous freshies
if someone is having a bad day, he’ll give them a lollipop (he carries around a whole bag), a place to sit during lunch, and a shoulder to cry on
all you need to do to find waxer is to locate this long ass line of children
the school counselor, plo koon, sometimes brings his niece numa into school during the day because he can’t find a babysitter, and waxer. fucking. loves. her. PERIOD.
w+n pull these tiny little pranks on teachers, and the staff pretends not to notice, but numa always giggles and gives them away.
boil has a soft spot for numa too, and sneaks her rice krispies.
bonus shit i want to add in but can’t figure out where to put it (or i’m just gonna add it on and shit)
plo koon adopted anakin after his mother died (him and anakin’s mother were good friends), and found ahsoka on the side of the street, shivering like a maniac.
he doesn’t know where ahsoka came from, but he loves her so gOD DAMN MUCH.
he’s the school counselor, and still keeps in touch with a lot of students even after the graduated (he thinks that majoring in law enforcement/police is a bit dangerous for wolffe but he still supports his unofficial but basically son 100%)
yoda is the super old but radically rad english teacher.
his entire point of existence in my mind fic is to troll the shit out of palpatine.
a recent conversation starring yoda and palps: “did you give the students the mountain of extra work i assigned them?” “for the students, that was?” i’m sorry. my bad, that is.” “this is the seventh time, yoda.”
okay but for real
mace windu violently roots for the school football team.
“BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM, CODY! YOU TOO...OTHER CODY!”
“THAT’S A HOLDING! THAT’S A HOLDING!”
“REF IF YOU DON’T COUNT THAT TOUCHDOWN THEN I SWEAR TO SAMUEL L. JACKSON I WILL COME DOWN THERE AND BEAT YOUR SORRY PINSTRIPED ASS!”
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martysmoonlight · 3 years ago
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hi! just wanting to get to know you better! what’s your name, age, and how’s you discover hunger games? did you see the movies when they came out? what’s your favorite book and/or movies scene? who’s your favorite movie actor and do you have a fancast for a character that’s far different from the movie actor?
❤️
Hey! Phew, so that's not a lot of questions at all 😂
Let's start, so you can call me Sierra, I'm 22 and well, don't hate me but I kind of outright rejected The Hunger Games when they came out because I thought it was all violence, and I'm soft. I suffer from anxiety and I remember I tried watching this one movie (I forgot the name, it was some sort of a period drama) that made me throw up in the first 10 minutes of it so I became extremely picky with the content I chose to consume after that.
But off late, I've had a little extra time on my hands (thanks to the COVID-19 pandemic) so I've been binge-watching quite a few movies & TV shows that I've heard a lot about but I never gave them a chance and THG was one of them.
I legit just watched all the 4 movies a few days ago for the very first time and I loved them so much that I watched them in a span of 12 hours. Even got a little bit of a headache the next day but it was totally worth it 🙈
(And it wasn't all that violent, tbh)
I only finished reading THG yesterday and I was live posting my favorite quotes and scenes so the few friends I've made could read along and I thoroughly enjoyed the book! My favorite scene was definitely the cave scene and now I hate how they cut it short in the movies, it was so perfect in the book! And the dandelion reference was so beautiful that symbolized Peeta with hope. The fandom should've sued the makers for not putting it in the movies, it was too important to be left out like that!
I haven't read Catching Fire yet but I'm SO EXCITED to read it because it's my favorite movie out of all 4 and THE BEACH SCENE WHEN PEETA GIVES KATNISS THE PEARL and later the medallion. Oh, my Everlark heart 💘
My favorite movie actor is Michael J. Fox! I don't think anybody could ever take his place. Like ever.
Umm, fan cast for a character? I think they pretty much nailed the cast of THG and Josh as Peeta was the cherry on top! I honestly don't think I could ever imagine anybody else as Peeta but Josh and Jennifer as Katniss was incredible, I just wish they would've shown just a little bit of her human side more so we (as an audience) could've connected with her sooner, you know? But at the same time, I like that we fall in love with Peeta and Katniss as they begin falling for each other in the cave because that's when we start rooting for them to make it together.
But you know what I think is truly funny? Looking like Liam Hemsworth and still not getting the girl 😂
I think that's hilarious. You could be an 11/10, 6'4" tall hunk giving CK models a run for their money but there's going to be a Peeta Mellark somewhere who loves frosting cakes who is gonna steal your girl right from under your nose.
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palmett-hoes · 4 years ago
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how do you think this fandom deals with "measuring" trauma? i've seen a couple posts detailing aaron's reaction to trauma/nicky's reaction//seth's/etc and it seems like some people have a tier list of trauma responses in regards to the foxes? like what's "acceptable" versus what isn't, and who's trauma was "enough" to make their actions excusable versus others. this doesn't make much sense but i hope you get where i'm coming from?
no no i get you don't worry
i think it’s something i used to see more said explicitly than i see it now. like i definitely remember a point in the fandom when ppl were very openly mad at aaron for the way he acted in the books and especially him not being “grateful” enough for all that andrew had “done for him.” additionally seth used to be used as a minor villain or an abusive ex in fics a lot more than i see now. then of course there was a period of calling out these trends and reminding ppl that these are books about trauma, not books about ethics, and that you really really can’t read them without attempting compassion for every character. they’re not books about who’s right and who’s wrong, they can’t really be read in terms of theory or ideology. they’re about survival and recovery.
i haven’t really seen those sentiments in the past few years tho, at least not as openly as they once were, nor have i seen the old posts recirculating. at the same time, i think that there’s less meta and character analysis being written in general so there’s also less debate in general. i don’t see the whole fandom tho, just who i follow and the stuff from the tags that shows up on my tl. if this stuff is actively still going on idk about it, though i’d like to think we as a collective have moved on from seeing trauma as a zero-sum game
additionally, because of the discourse period over them it seems like aaron and seth in particular are treated with extra care not to invalidate that they came from abusive situations and were shaped by that. i’d say it’s now seen as bad taste to openly denounce what a character has been through as “not enough”
however
measuring trauma isn’t always angry, it isn’t always saying to a character “you didn’t go through enough” or “he went through more so shut up.” measuring trauma can also be dismissive. it can take the form of simply choosing not to include it. of removing character traits or actions or topics that make us uncomfortable or are maybe complicated to approach. by removing them or replacing them or avoiding them and simply writing like they’re not there, you essentially get to the same place as saying “get over it” but instead you write them as having, well, gotten over it
so i do still see people measuring trauma it’s just not as outright anymore. instead it’s paring certain characters down for ease and digestibility, and simply not engaging with their trauma and circumstances
i would say i see this most often with the upperclassmen, dan, matt, and allison especially (and nicky even though he’s not an upperclassmen) (ik i mentioned him but seth content is still pretty few and far between) (renee’s trauma has the “rule of cool” so it still gets in there). i’ve mentioned before how sidelined the upperclassmen are in fan works and some of the unfortunate implications of that, but another dimension is not acknowledging or considering their individual backgrounds. they all come from some pretty fucked up circumstances and more than that they’re all SHAPED by those circumstances
in the books, they are all wary isolationists with attitude issues.  they can be mean, they can be nasty, and they can be violent. they come from poverty, abuse, neglect, drug addicition, gang violence, and sex trafficking. they are treated with extreme suspicion by their school, the media, their classmates, and their fellow athletes, and they respond with suspicion right back. their relationships with each other are often on thin ice. they treat neil the way they do - tolerate his puzzle pieces that don’t fit together right without questioning - because they can all recognize themselves in him. and on the flip side, neil is able to relate to them for the same reasons, because they are also wary dogs used to being hit
but then i so often see the upperclassmen used in ways that mostly imply they’re like,, mostly normal, chill, often quite woke. goofy and cool. they all grew up watching disney movies and going to carnivals. they get used as a contrast for neil and andrew to highlight their traumatized behavior and the extremity of their circumstances, and if their trauma gets mentionted at all it’s in passing and it doesn’t inform the way they act. their trauma isn’t sufficient to inform their actions so it just,, doesn’t factor in or get mentioned really and they’re all nice, friendly, happy-go-lucky neurotypicals who are trying to teach poor traumatized neil how to be normal. tell me that isn’t measuring trauma
it’s annoying, in all honesty, especially since it now seems to come in a form that’s hard to call out because it’s no longer content that actually states a bad opinion so much as it is a lack of content or consideration for certain characters, pushing them further and further into the background and giving them increasingly more vague, palatable, and relatable characterizations.
in fact, it often comes off as praise, by ascribing them positive traits like nicky being a good guardian for the twins or allison being super knowledgeable about lgbt stuff or dan being a “queen” or matt being a “himbo” and because this is all good stuff it’s fine, right? it’s better than canon actually, right? except actually what it is is dismissive of their trauma and individual experiences. it’s a series of easily digestible filler words used to make the messy, ugly, complicated characters of canon softer and easier to swallow
also this is by no means restricted to the upperclassmen it’s just the one that slips most through the cracks. i definitely see this happening to andrew, too, but it works in slightly different ways and is a whole other discussion
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ninnodesu · 4 years ago
Text
The New Matriarch, ch 2.
Tw: - Memories of rape - Brief mentioning of rape!  
Thomas B. Hewitt.
It's…, Sunday? Yeah, it's Sunday. He thinks before rubbing tired eyes to wake them up before squinting to the window that's cracked open. The sun's up, but it doesn't feel as warm as it usually is, even early in the morning. Seems like today's going to be a milder day.
Good. I don't have to overheat and die. He chuckles at his own bad attempt at a joke as he rolls out of bed. His back cracks in a symphony of newly awoken and hard working bones as he stretches, a grunt escaping his lips. He trudges over to his dresser and pulls one of the drawers out, grabbing the first t-shirt he sees. It’s gray and worn out with small holes in the seams under his armpit, but he knows they can’t afford to get new ones.
It will have to do, I guess, he shrugs and pulls it over his head. Realizing he probably should have taken a shower first, but frowns. He knows it’s no point in showering before going to work in cleaning the barn. His mama asked him the week before if he could help clean the barn, she wanted to see if there was anything of value they could maybe sell at a yard sale to try and scrape up some more money.
Even though the scraps of meat rejects he snagged with him home after a hard day's work were enough, his mama was longing for bread and maybe some fruits and vegetables. And those were expensive. So he promised her he would take a look and throw away obvious trash the next day he was off work. Which happened to be every Sunday. Before heading out he pulls his boots on and reaches for the mask hanging on a hook next to his door to buckle it on the back of his head. All the years he's been wearing it has turned his skill in buckling it to perfection and he fastens it while walking through the upstairs hallway, tired floorboards greeting him under his weight.
He stops suddenly at one of the stairs that makes a particularly alarming creak and bucks a bit, “Hm…”, he bounces as carefully as he can to not break the board to test it. Making a mental note that he has to take a look at that specific step at another day. Hoping it’ll not break in the meantime.
With a yawn he enters the kitchen where his mama is preparing breakfast to the best of her abilities with what they've got, some sausages she managed to throw together with whatever scraps he could snag with him from work, and eggs. In his heart he thanks God that they still had chickens.
"Mornin', darlin'", she says as he walks up to her and nuzzles his forehead to her temple. A small hum from him to wish her the same. "You goin' to fix that barn I asked you for today?", stuffing half a sausage in his mouth as he grunts. His own way of saying “yes”. He doesn’t like speaking anymore. Not since he carved on his face, a desperate attempt at trying to remove dead, and sick skin. He only knew pain during the healing period. And he lost a lot of weight at first, both speaking and eating only caused him pain. So he stopped talking. Doing his best to avoid unnecessary pain to his already throbbing face.
Yeah, don't worry, mama. Even if Sundays are the only days he has off work, he's still happy to help. And today seems to be a mild day. Even if the sun's out it goes behind clouds from time to time.
Rather today than next week. He thinks to himself munching away at his breakfast while looking out the window, not focusing on anything particular, leaving his brain a chance to wake up properly. Somewhere in the distance, he hears a loud burp, and then a door closing harshly, probably to try and wake up the last family member who was still snoring on the couch and then the sound of angry stomping wakes him up from his daydream and he lets out a small discrete sigh.
Great., he huffed silently at the sight.
His brother, Charlie, enters the kitchen. He reeks of both tobacco and alcohol,
Already? Come on, man…, Thomas just makes a grimace behind the leather as he follows him with his eyes. Usually, it was when Charlie had alcohol still running in his blood that he barked orders at Thomas, so he was used to Charlie drinking not being the best of signs. He never really did like when he drank, even less so early in the morning. Sure, the slaughterhouse had a worse smell, but that smell he was used to.
Charlie plops himself down at the kitchen table and just violently stabs one of the sausages with a fork.
"Mornin', mama.” His twisted and crooked smile directed towards their mother, before his eyes drilled into Thomas and he returned the stare. A tired but fierce stare off between the brothers. “Remember what mama told you, boy. You're goin' to clean the barn.", Charlie nods at him with a really childish tone at the end and Thomas grunts a reply before looking away, annoyed.
"Leave Tommy alone, Charlie!”, their mama scolds him and lightly smacks his head with her towel. “He's already done promised me that he's gonna. Let the boy finish eatin' his breakfast in peace."
Thomas lowers his head and smirks behind his mask while looking down at his plate. Mama always has his back.
"Yes, mama.", Charlie's voice is low but he gives the big man in front of him an annoyed stare. "Mama's boy…" he mutters under his breath before starting to eat the impaled sausage.
By the time Thomas has finished his breakfast, he hears shuffling from the living room and his uncle stumbles into the kitchen on tired legs. His uncle has never really seemed to pay him much mind, so Thomas does the same as he puts his plate in the sink. All he does is give him a nod on his way over to thank his mother for the breakfast by giving her a small kiss on the cheek through his mask and rub her shoulder before heading out to the barn.
Thank you, mama.
Outside, it's cool - for once - and he can't help but to close his eyes and relax when he feels a breeze caress the part of his face not covered up. He raises a hand and touches his mask, wishing he could feel the breeze on his entire face. But he knows better. Charlie would just harass him if he caught him without it.
Forget it. He shakes that thought away and trudges over to the barn and gives out a loud groan when he sees how much he actually has to do today.
I'll be sore tomorrow at work…
Hours go by. Lunch is over before he even realizes he's eaten it. The clouds have gathered over his head and he's afraid it'll start raining before he's done. On his way in to gather more junk lying around he hears something, a voice.
What th-....  He stops, trying to listen and see if he hears it again. Silence.
Maybe I'm imagining things. He shrugs, but then hears it again. "Please, help me!”, He gazes out towards the wheat field, squinting eyes trying to see something. He still can’t see anyone, though. He’s sure he did hear someone. He turns to look towards the main house to see if it came from there, but nothing. Not his name, no sounds coming from the house that would indicate someone came to hurt his family.
“Hm…”, he takes one step, and then one more away from the barn, toward the general direction he thought the voice came from. His curiosity has peaked.
After a few minutes of silence has passed he’s suddenly startled and his head jerks toward one of the walls where he sees a woman.
What the he-... where did you co-, his inner monologue is interrupted by her hoarse voice. “Please… please help me.”, it’s hard to hear, but knowing how rough his own voice is after so many years of choosing to be silent he’s learned to distinguish words. Seeing her walk towards him makes him back up himself. She’s all beaten up. Hair is more of a mess than his own and she smells of sweat, blood and earth. She’s so much smaller than him in height, not that he’s particularly surprised, honestly. Clothed in something that looks like several  potato sacks badly put together through the years to accommodate her growth. She’s dirty, and it looks like she’s badly hurt. He just watches her at first. “I beg of you. They’re chasing me. I need… I need help.”
You look like you’ve been through Hell... His eyes flicker towards the main house when he notices that she's not looking directly at him, but rather outside. Suddenly, he reacts to footsteps. Close ones and he turns his attention to them, tilting his head and listening to them. Following them.
Deep into concentration he feels small, weak fingers gripping the hem of his rolled up sleeve, tugging at it to get his attention. “Please…”.
He lets out a sigh. You must be truly desperate to reach out for me, lady. His head is directed towards a sound, and around the corner comes a man, and he looks straight at him as he takes a step in front of the strange woman, shielding her, Thomas stares at the man.
“Ah, good. I see you found our sister, there. I’ve been looking for her.”, Something tells Thomas it’s just lies. “I can take care of her now. She’s uh… She’s unwell ”, the last word came out as a whisper, something that shouldn’t be talked about.
Thomas just stands there, crossing his bulky arms over his huge chest, trying his best to look intimidating enough to avoid any violence.
You really think I’m falling for that, huh?, he smirks behind his mask and tilts his head to the side.
A stare off ensues. One huge man looking down at the smaller one. The bull versus the fox. Thomas lets out a big huff that sounds like a mixture between a laugh and a sound an annoyed bull makes.
I’ll humour you, but only because it’s fun to see you try.
“Look, we’re just here to take her back to her room so we can take care of her, okay? That’s all there is.” The stranger takes a step forward, and Thomas manages to hear whispers close by.
There’s more of you, huh?
Thomas looks down at the girl who has curled into a tiny ball behind his legs when he feels his pant leg start to shake slightly where she started gripping it out of fear.
“No.”, it’s dark, and hoarse, but it only helps to convey his statement. “No?”, the man mimics, suddenly realizing that his lie had failed. “Heheh. I see. That bitch told you, didn’t she? Well, this one is ours. We bought her. She is our property.”, Thomas frowns when he sees a sneer appear on the stranger. Then he chuckles darkly.
What the hell are you talking about?
“Tell you what, big man? If you hand her over to us, we can arrange a fee for you.” His leg suddenly gets warm as she hugs closer to him, clings to him, even. Like he’s some kind of life preserve for her. And that’s when his brain switches.
You can relax, I’m not letting them take you, he puts a hand on her head to try and convey his inner monologue and conversation with her. “Leave.”, he hasn’t spoken this much in months. But he wants her to know that she can stay, at least until his mama has had her say in it. “I’m not leaving until I get my property back!”, the stranger practically roars as he lifts the gun he’s been holding behind his thigh.
Thomas’ eyes darken at the sight, he truly doesn’t want to resolve to violence, at least not if his family isn’t involved, there’s no point. And as far as he’s concerned, this woman is not family. “You’re one big beast, you know that?”, a small chuckle emitted from the gun wielding maniac standing in front of the pair.
Then, like a gift from heaven - for once - he sees Charlie as he butts the stranger with the end of his own shotgun. The man falls to the barn floor. It’s not until he hears the thud that Thomas finally relaxes his stance a tiny bit.
Useful, for once.
“Who the fuck is that, Tommy?”, Charlie nods towards the scared girl still behind Thomas’ leg, who's desperately trying to curl into a smaller ball. Thomas’ looks down at her at first and then just… shrugs. He has no idea who she is. All he knows is that she’s the first person ever in his entire life who has been this adamant with getting his help. He puts his hand back on her head again and slowly strokes her messy hair.
It’s okay, now.
-----------------------------------------------------------
You.
Your sight darkens slightly and you fall into shadows as something big steps in front of you, and you look up to see him look toward something. You follow his gaze and see him, the one who had shot you and you take a step back behind the giant in an attempt to completely disappear out of sight. Why is he alone? Where’s the rest?!, your brain starts to go into that panicked state and you fall to the floor, your legs can’t keep you up anymore as fear sets in. You can’t see anyone else. There were at least three… Three… and… the dog… “Ah, good. I see you found our sister, there. I’ve been looking for her.” Liar.
“I can take care of her now. She’s uh… She’s unwell”, you jerk your head and eyes towards him when you hear his disgusting voice. You glance up at the huge man when you see his hands raise as he crosses them over his chest. You take a big gulp of air. He’s huge…
Silence.
You jump a bit at the moment the giant huffs. “Look, we’re just here to take her back to her room so we can take care of her, okay? That’s all there is.”, you flinch when you hear a shuffle towards you both.
No, no no no no. Not the box, please. Anything but that fucking box!  You curl up, instinct kicking in as you start to grab at the strange man’s pant leg while shaking. You’re so scared. You look up at him when you feel a pair of eyes gaze at you. And that’s when you finally manage to see his face. Or, whatever there was of it. It’s covered in a mask.
Strange… But his eyes seem kind. Light blue, you can’t see any kind of hate in them. You can’t really see any clear emotion at all, actually.
“No. ”, a shiver runs down your spine when you hear his voice. It’s dark, almost as hoarse as your own. But you feel safer than you’ve felt since you started running. “No?”, the man with the gun mimics, his voice is low, and clings to your ears and nerves as black tar.
You zone out, memories starting to trickle into your brain. Memories that makes you nauseous. Memories of his voice sticking in your ears as he forced himself into you, his tongue tracing venomous trails across every part it could reach. This disgusting voice, this sticky and tar like voice of his. You hate it. You hate it so much. In the middle of remembering all the sticky things his voice told you, you wrap your arms around the big leg in front of you, and bury your face in it, shielding yourself. Right now, the only safe place you can remember in your life is this man.
That’s when you feel a hand on your head. It’s not clamping down to hurt you, or to force your face up to make you recieve some disgusting load. It’s just… there. It’s there like a warmth, a helmet. A way to comfort you, you make you realize he wants to help you.
“Leave. ”, that same dark voice speaks. His whole body vibrates. “I’m not leaving until I get my property back!”
Shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up!, you press your eyes shut. Just hoping it will end. You keep your eyes shut. Not wanting to see his face anymore, not wanting to be here anymore. You just want everything and anything to end. You want to wake up from this nightmare. And that’s when you hear a thud and another voice speak out.
“Who the fuck is that, Tommy?”
Tommy? Wh… Who’s “Tommy”?, your brain is too tired to fully function and put two and two together.
This new voice sounds older, it’s definitely another man. But you can’t place him. It’s new. It isn’t until you feel the same hand on your head again, but this time in a stroking motion, that you get the courage to look up. But you can’t relax yet. You know there’s more people here. Around the house. You’re just not sure where they are. So you decide to try and talk again.
“M...m-...”, you take a shaky breath, and try to gather saliva again, easier this time. “Ther- there’s more…”
“More what?”, The old man spits at you as he crouches down to your eye level and looks at you, he seems angry at you, so you flinch further behind the behemoth, who all he can do is stand there since your grip is tight on his leg. His hand still on your head, intently watching as you attempt to have a conversation with the old man.
“O-... of them…”, you whisper as you nod towards the one lying down on the floor, still breathing.
“Are you trying to tell me that there’s more of those bastards on my property, girl?”, the old man spits.
He’s definitely angry, shit.
All you can manage to do is nod. The old man stands tall and puts his hands on his hips as he clicks his tongue. You stay put, almost too scared to move a muscle, your nerves still on high alert, ready to sprint if you hear any kind of loud noise. But nothing happens, it’s still. “Come. We’ll talk to mama.”, the old voice mumbles out, “After that, you’re helping me bring our sleeping friend to the sheriff’s station.” Before you’re able to fully comprehend what’s happening your protector bends down best to his abilities and slowly pats your arms holding him tight while keeping eye contact with you.
“Wh… what…?”, you’re confused. So, so confused as you look at him. He lightly takes hold of your arms and slowly pry them open to release his leg. “Oh…”, is all you can say as you understand what he wants and you release his leg by your own will, but still not fully grasping what he wants to do, at least not until you feel his strong arms under you.
One hooking under your legs and one resting at your back.
And you’re off the ground. It’s not until he takes one step forward that your brain sends a harsh reminder about the pain in your shoulder and you shriek out.
“FUCK!”, it��s loud enough - or you’re way too close to his ear - that he jumps, his grip almost slipping. The pain is enormous all of a sudden, and that’s when it happens. You pass out. Your brain, and body, finally giving up. You can’t run anymore, and you mentally accept your fate, not caring what it might be and you’re put into a deep slumber.
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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years ago
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It's heathen! I don't have anything mroe to say but! I hope you get better soon! I mostly deal with panic attacks so I don't kmow how to help! But! If blankets won't trigger your senses then I'd say bundle up tight in them with a warm drink and try to relax, if that helps-? I don't know much about meltdowns so I'm assuming the best thing you can do is to try make yourself comfortable and try relax
heathen! hello! Thank you. I'm doing better now that I'm alone and away from the stressor. There was literally nothing I could've done to change anything about the situation, so I'm trying to just move forward and use that bad memory to my advantage so I can forget about it and get back to things.
And thank you for the suggestion--I'd gotten so caught up in everything that I didn't even realize i was still wearing things with weird textures (not bad textures, just not the best when I'm more sensitive). I am now wrapped in a blanket--it actually has a hood shaped like a fox and I still need to name it, so if you have any suggestions please let me know because its gone so long without a name and I feel bad.
this ask also reminded me to eat, which is another thing I forget to do a lot (90% of the time I don't experience hunger in a way I recognize). so thank you!
I probably won't relax, but I will use your ask as a reminder to maybe be a little easier on myself. Doing nothing makes me anxious so I'll be doing homework and writing and answering asks--the things that are normal to try and process things.
but hey! at least I learned that I'm still a safe driver even when violently crying at 70mph! I don't advise doing it regularly, but it's possible. I did not get in a crash, which is actually what caused all these problems.
(tw: mentions of car crash, but not described and not to me or anyone I know, and then brief mention of the panic attack)
i know you (general you, not you specifically) are probably curious what happened and I don't mind sharing! I have a 20 minute drive to school every morning, and half of that drive is on the interstate. But this morning there were two crashes on the same interstate less than two miles apart. The first blocked three out of six lanes, and the second blocked 2 out of four, so traffic was really slow, and the normally 20 minute drive took an entire hour. One of the lanes blocked!! was my exit!! so I also had to take a detour and drive around somewhere I didn't know and I don't like change and didn't like that. but legit it was so annoying because I got out of the traffic and then 1 minute later I was in a different set of traffic. and I could see my exist the entire time. I was like 30 seconds away.
and because of all that I was 20 minutes late to my class, my first tardy or absence since 4th grade, which really stressed me out and as soon as I got to class and sat down I had a panic attack. And being in the room reminded me of it so I was crying/stressed the entire period (hour and a half). I sit literally right in front of the teacher (like five feet away from him) so he saw me crying and just went oh no and asked if I needed a minute, and my response to that is always "I'm fine. Just having a panic attack give me a minute!" which I think is hilarious because I usually laugh at myself when I talk during an attack. but I did learn that my eyeliner is actually impressively waterproof--no smudging at all!
tw over
so that's what I did this morning! I'm talking about it lightly right now to help process. But thank you for caring and reminding me to take care of myself--I wasn't expecting anything like this.
I hope you're doing well <33
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