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paige1722 · 2 days ago

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Silent Night

Summary: It is Christmas time in your village. The weather has taken a drastic turn, and everyone fears that the blizzard will never end. The people become desperate and willing to take any measures necessary to save themselves, even if it means sacrificing one of their own to a once-forgotten demon.

Pairing: Krampus!Konig x GN!Reader

Warnings: Krampus, death, google translated German, violence.

Merry Christmas!!! If you want to read an alternative version where the reader gets revenge, it’s here.

The village you call home resides in the middle of the forest, a few day's journey from the nearest town. This usually means nothing really exciting ever happens here; everyone knew one another, and nothing stayed a secret for long. This year, things had been different. The weather grew colder earlier than normal, the fields did not produce much food, and the hunting expeditions proved to be unsuccessful, with only being able to get small game, such as rabbits and squirrels.

The blizzard that came to the town a week ago did not seem to be lessening in strength; in fact, you even believe that it was getting worse with every passing day. As you looked out of the window of your small cottage near the center of town, where you would usually be able to see your neighbors, the bakery, and the church in the middle of the town. But with the blizzard, you could barely even see your small garden in front of your doorstep that is now destroying your precious plants, and all the hard work you put into it over the spring and summer. The harsh wind caused the window panes to groan, and the snow kept piling up more and more. You wager that pretty soon, it will be impossible to leave your cottage.

If it wasn’t for the small fireplace keeping your cottage cozy and warm all this time you are sure you would have already frozen to death in this horrible winter. A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. Wondering who would be at your door so early in the morning, especially in this weather. Making your way to the front door, you open it to see Philip, the assistant to the village leader; opening the door more, he quickly makes his way inside after kicking off the snow from his boots. Once inside, he makes his way towards your fireplace placing his hand in front of the fire, trying to gain some feeling back into his joints.

“Philip, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” you asked, closing the door behind him and moving to stand in the middle of your living room.

He turns around, placing his hands around his back to keep them in front of the fire; you are now able to get a better look at him. He looks thin, sickly almost. The food shortage must really be taking a toll on him, his face is unshaven, and his once nice thick animal fur coat has seen better days as it looks to have been ripped apart in some places and hastily sewn back together, surely a child you have done a better job fixing his jacket.

“Yes, I have been tasked with letting everyone know that at noon today, there will be an emergency village meeting in the church. It is mandatory for everyone to be in attendance.”

You feel your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. There had not been an emergency meeting called ever since you were a little child, and there had been a huge wildfire that nearly destroyed the entire village; a lot of lives were lost that day. “Oh, okay. By any chance, do you know what the meeting will be about?”

At your innocent question, Philip squints his eye, looking at you up and down suspiciously, clenching his jaw and taking quick steps towards you. He points an accusatory finger in your face, causing you to step back at his fast approach. “It does not matter what the meeting is about. You are required to be in attendance, understand?”

Your back hit the wall separating the living room from the kitchen; setting your hands flat against the wall to your back, you nod your head in shock, confused as to why he is acting this way. Philip was usually a kind man, not quick to anger. This was a different side of him you had never seen before and did not want to see again. “Yes, I will be there,” you reply in a shaky voice, startled by the sudden mood shift.

Suddenly, like the drop of a hat, he steps back from you, smoothing down his jacket and giving you one of his signature smiles. Chuckling, Philip walks back toward the front door, his hand on the door handle when he looks back over his shoulder over at you, where you are still pressed up against the wall. “I look forward to seeing you at the meeting then,” he winks as he opens the door, letting himself out back into the cold.

Once the door shuts, you let out the breath you had been holding, unsure why he was acting so strange. What does it matter if you were not going to attend the meeting? Though with his reaction at the thought that you were not going had him acting like that, you fear to think of what he would actually do if you failed to make an appearance. Not to mention, you are very curious as to the details of this emergency meeting; perhaps it was about food rations or the never-ending blizzard. You walk into your kitchen, planning to fix yourself a small breakfast, as you retrieve what little bread you had left from the bakery and some jam; this would have to do you until supper time after the meeting. The rations you were given earlier in the week dwindling faster than you would have liked. Sitting at the small table in the kitchen, you enjoy your breakfast, again thinking about the strange encounter with Philip and his sudden change in attitude and demeanor. After finishing your bread with jam, you decide to do some chores around your house to waste time until noon.

—----

You glance at the small hand-carved clock on your wall. Seeing that it is a quarter past eleven, you make your way to your front door, putting on the thickest coat you own, your gloves, and winter boots. Opening the door and closing it behind you, you wrap your coat tightly around you, pulling up the collar to cover the bottom half of your face as you venture down the snow-covered stone path that leads throughout the village. You see your neighbors already making their way inside the church. Two men stand outside wrapped in thick fur jackets and hats, each holding lanterns to light the path to the church, a way to help people see through the thick snow falling from the sky. You trudge through the thick snow, carefully walking up the ice-covered steps to the entrance. The two men, who you now recognize as Simon and Johnny, who are the town’s butchers, open the massive doors. You mumble a quick thank you to the men and make your way inside the warm church. Not noticing the sympathetic look they send your way as you walk past them.

Looking around the massive sanctuary, a long line of lit candles operas on either side of the pew give the room an almost eerie glow. You realize you are one of the last villagers to arrive, seeing as most of the pews are already filled to the brim with people waiting for the meeting to start. You decide to sit in the back where there is still a little bit of space left, sitting next to one of your more elderly neighbors, you give a small smile in greeting, not having interacted with them much before. You take off your thick jacket and hang it on the back of the pew you were sitting on, and continue looking around the room. At the front, standing in front of the pulpit, stands Philip Graves, talking in hushed tones to the village leader, Shepherd. They look to be arguing, judging by the looks on their faces. Philip turns his head, looking near the door, when he makes eye contact with you, but instead of acknowledging you as he normally would in passing, he turns back to Shepherd, whispering in his ear, both of them now looking more relaxed than they were just mere seconds ago, another strange occurrence happening today, something in the air you supposed.

The front doors slamming closed behind you cause you to jump a bit, turning around in your seat to see Johnny and Simon standing inside the church, placing the lanterns on the golden hooks on either side of the doors. Instead of finding a seat in the room, they move to stand in front of the doors, reminding you of guards to a prison cell. A throat clearing causes you to turn your attention back to the front of the church, where Shepherd now stands behind the podium with Philip by his side.

“Thank you all so much for joining us today for this emergency meeting. We know that things have been tough this year with the lack of game and crops and now this never-ending blizzard. But fear not, your village leader and others have come up with a solution that will surely save us all from this torment.”

Applause erupts throughout the church at this news. For some reason, you feel a sense of dread overcome you at this news. Something about this whole situation does not sit right with you. Why is Philip staring at you so intensely? Why was it so important that you come to this meeting, and why are Simon and Johnny blocking the exit like that? All these questions run through your head, causing you to break out into a cold sweat. Shepherd once again starts talking, making everyone stop their applause.

“Now, I know you all must be wondering as to what the solution to our problem is. Philip and I have been scouring the old texts, trying to find anything that might be of help to save our village from this ongoing turmoil. After a many sleepless nights, we finally came across this.”

Philip holds up an old leather-bound book with a small bell engraved on the front; the pages look worn and old, as if it hasn’t been used in decades. Placing the book down in front of Shepherd, who continues his speech, “In this book, we discovered a chapter that describes exactly the events that are taking place before us today: no food, endless winter that ends in nothing but death for all of us unless we act now! This book tells of an ancient being, whose name shall not be uttered here, that is the cause of all this. Apparently, we have managed to anger him last Christmas during our festivities, and he is now taking it out on us. To appease his wrath, we must give him an offering. There was a list of rules that must be followed or else the offering will not work and just invoke more devastation upon us. After careful consideration, there is only one person who fulfills the demands.”

Shepherd locks eyes with you, you feel your heart pounding in your chest, the room suddenly becomes too hot, sweat beads down your face. You see his mouth moving, but you can hear nothing over the ringing in your ears. Everyone in the conjugation is now staring at you, waiting for what you aren’t sure. Stumbling, you stand up, still facing the front of the church, and slowly begin backing up towards the door, but before you can make a run for it, hands wrap around your arms on both sides looking to see who has you in their grasp; you see Simon and Johnny with solemn looks on their faces. They begin dragging you to the front of the church. You try to pull your arms from their grip, but is it no use; kicking your feet, trying anything to free yourself, tears flow freely from your eyes. You look around at the people of your village pleading with them hoping that someone, anyone, will help you, but as you make eye contact with the people you grew up with they simply turned their heads looking down at the ground a guilty expression on their faces. Reaching the front of the church, Philip grabs you from the grip of the two butchers; Simon whispers an solem apology in your ear as they hand you over to your inevitable demise.

Your back is pressed against Philips's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you in place. He rests his chin on your head, “Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal once the demon has his offering! Return to your homes and await the glorious rewards that will be gifted upon us all!” He yells out, his chest rumbling against your back. You let out a whimper. as you watch everyone slowly rise from their seats and make their way toward the entrance of the church, leaving you with Shepherd and Philip. “Please don’t do this, there must be another way!!” you yell out desperation clear in your voice, but it is no use; the front doors slam shut as the last of the villagers return to their homes.

Shepherd grabs a rope from his pocket and stands in front of you, “Ah fear not. Think about the good your sacrifice will bring to the people of this village, all the lives you will save.” His gaze moves towards Philip, “Take her to the back for them to get her ready.” He pulls your wrists together in front of yo,u tying them tightly together. Once the rope is secure, Philip lets go of you and grabs the rope, binding your hands together pulling towards the back of the church. Sniffiling you let Philip drag you down the dark hallways leading to the offices. Opening the door to Shepherd’s office, Philip throws you inside the room, causing you to fall, hitting the ground causing a shockwave of pain through your body from where your knees and elbows slam against the wooden floor.

“Here, get them ready,” Philip says as he shuts the door on his way out.

Pulling yourself to your feet, you see who he is talking to. Valeria stands in the center of the room, a bored expression on her face, her arms crossed in front of her chest. The room is empty, apart from a single chair and table in the middle of the room, a red silk robe, a veil, and two small boxes. Sighing, she steps forward, pushing you to sit in the chair in the middle of the room.

Grabbing her arm, you try to plead with her, “Please, Valeria, you have to help me. They mean to use me as some sort of sacrifice to a demon, please.” She rips her arm out of your hands, slapping you across the face. A disgusted look crosses her features as she replies, “Shut up, your sacrifice is what is best for the village. So stop crying. You are only going to make this worse for yourself and ruin the work I am about to put into making you look presentable for him.”

Your face now burning the slap, you sit in defeat, feeling all forms of fight leave your body; even if you did manage to escape from this room, there was nowhere you could go, the other villagers already showing you that they don’t care about you if you went back home they would just find you and drag you back to where you are now, and if you tried to run for it, you would surely die due to the elements.

Valeria grabs the silk robe, scrutinizing at your hands that are still tied together, “No funny business, understand. Just put this robe on.” you solemnly nod in return; she grabs your hands and begins to untie them, placing the red robe in your hands. You stare at her, waiting for her to turn around so you can change, but you quickly realize that will not be happening. Trying to save the little dignity you have left, you take off your sweater, putting the robe on, hoping that she will let you keep your warm pants on but she snaps and points to your pants. “Just the robe. It is the rules.” Taking off your pants and placing them in the small pile of clothes on the ground, as you are done, she immediately grabs your hands, tying your wrists back together much tighter than they were previously.

Every movement you make now causes the rough fabric of the rope to rub against your skin. Looking down at the robe you are now wearing, you quickly realize how thin the fabric is. It is definitely not something you should be wearing during this kind of weather, probably to make it more convenient for the demon to kill or eat you. Valeria motions for you to sit back down in the chair with her hand as she opens one of the small boxes laying on the table inside was filled with small paints usually reserved for weddings and other important ceremonies, she begins to draw strange symbols upon your skin, leading from your face, down your arms to your chest. Once she is satisfied with her work, she reaches for the matching red veil, placing it upon your head; you are still able to see through the fabric of the red veil, though it does give everything a strange blurry tint.

All that can be heard in the room is the occasional sniffle coming from you, trying to hold back any more tears from falling, knowing that Valeria would not be happy with you if you ruined the writing she had just finished putting on your skin. When the door opens and Philip and Shepherd both enter the room, “Are you finished yet?” asks Philip, walking to where you sit inspecting Valeria’s handiwork.

“Just have to put on the necklace, and we are all set,” she says as she grabs the remaining box sitting on the table, opening it to reveal a beautiful golden necklace with a small pendant that looks very similar to the bell that was engraved on the front of the leather book that they were referencing during the emergency meeting earlier. She places the necklace around your neck, fastening it in the back and tucking it underneath the robe you were forced to wear.

Everything started to feel too real at that moment. What was about to happen to you setting in, causing you to let out a whimper, but before you could begin pleading for your life, hoping to somehow change their minds, Sheppard pulls out a small piece of cloth, “Now we can’t have you making all that noise, the demon would not appreciate that.” He lifts up the veil, shoving the cloth in your mouth and tying it around the back of your head, effectively silencing you and placing the veil back over your face.

Shepherd claps his hands together, taking a step back, “Thank you for your help, Valeria. Alright, Philip, grab them and let's go.” Philip grabs the rope around your wrist, dragging you off the chair, the rope squeezing your wrists, causing you to let out a pained gasp that is muffled by the cloth in your mouth. They drag you back out to the sanctuary of the church towards the front door, where you see Simon and Johnny once again holding the lanterns. Once you reach them, they open the doors for you all, dragged out in the snow wearing nothing but the thin robe the freezing air immediately making goose-bumps form on your skin, you let out an involuntary shiver, the ice, and snow covered ground causing your feet to burn with every step. Johnny and Simon now lead the way with their lanterns. Shepherd is in the middle of them telling them which direction to go in, with Philip following close behind, pulling you along with him into the dark forest.

—-

Walking for what felt like hours, you can no longer feel your legs, you're pretty sure your wrists are now bleeding due to the rope rubbing against your skin, causing it to break. Every intake of breath hurts, the cold air burning your lungs and throat. As you all reach a clearing in the middle of the forest where only a single tree stands surrounded by small torches sticking out of the ground, everyone stops walking.

Philip yanks you towards the tree, pulling out another rope from inside his fur jacket, and ties one end of the rope around the rope, holding your wrists together. Once secured around your bound wrists, he throws the other end of the rope around one of the lower hanging branches of the tree and pulls the rope until your arms are straining above your head and your toes are barely scraping the ground. You let out muffled groans of pain and fear. He secures the rope around the trunk of the tree, stepping back and joining Shepherd, who stands in front of you. Johnny and Simon are walking around to the torches, lighting them with the fire from their lanterns. Shepherd reading through the leather-bound book, a look of malice taking over his face, muttering to himself, “This time, we will get him.”

Once the last torch has been lit, and all four men all standing in front of you, Johnny and Simon looking anywhere but your face. Shepherd says, “This is where we leave you. Thank you for your sacrifice.” before turning with the others and leaving you to your death.

As you watch them all walk away, the light from the lanterns slowly fades away until you can no longer see it. You begin to try to free yourself from the tree. Tears run down your face and neck, causing the writing on your skin to smear, bleeding into the fabric of the robe tied around your body. You try and scream to the best of your ability, but the cloth in your mouth muffling your shouts sounds more like a wounded animal. Flailing around trying to somehow untie the ropes on the tree or your wrist, but all you end up accomplishing is tightening the knots, burying the rope farther into your skin, the blood from the open wounds on your wrists running down your arms. You are now sobbing uncontrollably, resigning yourself to your inevitable death, whether it be freezing to death, the demon or whatever it actually is killing you, or some wild animal finding you first.

Running out of energy from the walk here, crying, failing around, screaming, and the cold that has turned your entire body numb, you begin to feel tired, struggling to keep your eyes open, thinking to yourself hopefully your sacrifice will not be in vain and the people of your town will be saved. Until, from the darkness, you begin to hear the distance sound of bells jingling closer and closer. Eventually, you hear the crunch of snow as if someone or something was walking towards you.

You try and blink the tears from your eyes to clear your vision, but with the veil still covering your face, your vision still remains blurry, a huge figure emerges from the trees, standing nearly seven feet tall with twisted horns protruding from underneath the dark red hood covering his face and body. With every step it draws closer to you, you catch small glimpses of the jingling of bells hanging on a chain wrapped around his torso from underneath the red cloak.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, fear overtaking your body, causing your adrenaline to rise, once again trying to pull your arms free. He stops right in front of where you are hanging from the tree, even dangling in the air, the top of your head barely level with his chin. The soft glow from the torches circling you gives off an eerie glow to whatever is standing in front of you, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood, though you swear that you can see eyes staring right through you. Realizing that this is the end for you, you let out muffled whimpers, not caring how pathetic you must seem right now.

“Warum bist du hier draußen?” The demon in front of you utters, staring at you expectantly for your answer.

Even if you were somehow able to understand what he had just said, you would not be able to answer him anyway, so you just shake your head, replying with a muffled what. You see its head tilt to the side in confusion before a gloved hand reaches up and pulls the veil off your head. Your vision is no longer obstructed, and you are able to make out the being in front of you more clearly. A flicker of the light from the torches illuminated the masked man in front of you.

The mask peeking out from under the hood had twisted horns sticking out of the forehead, where the eyes would be were two holes his eyes shining through the darkness, and the mouth was open with sharp teeth and a long red serpent-looking tongue carved onto the front of the mask, reminding you of the old stories your grandmother used to tell you when you were a small child of an ancient demon who arrived during winter to steal and punish the naughty children. Your eyes widen in realization, muttering, “Krampus.” Even with the cloth still in your mouth, he must have understood you, as you hear a small chuckle in return.

“Ah, so you have heard of me then. It has been a while since I have been called that, just call me Konig.” His accent is thick as he speaks, reaching for the cloth impairing your ability to say. He pulls the fabric out of your mouth, letting it hang around your neck. “Now, let's try this again, ja. Why are you out here?”

Sniffling and your teeth chattering because of how cold you are, you manage to say “They said I was supposed to be some kind of offering to save the village. I…I don’t know anything else.” Sobs rack through your body. Looking back up into the eyes of the demon before you, you notice that little black dots begin to swarm your vision, the ringing in your ears was back the cold, pain, and everything was begining to seem so far away. Using the last bit of strength you had left before you passed out for what you assumed would be for good, you mumbled, “…I don’t want to die.”

Your head lolls backwards, causing the necklace to be pulled out from underneath the robe, catching the eye of Konig whose eyes widen at the pendant hanging from your neck. He quickly pulls out the hunting knife from its sheath on his belt as he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you from falling to the ground. He cut the rope around your wrists, your unconscious body falling forward into his chest. He feels the cold from your body seeping through his gloves and cloak. He removes the cloak from around his body and wraps you up in it as best he can to hopefully begin warming you up. He cradles you in his arms as delicately as he possibly can as he whispers to your sleeping form, “Es wird alles gut. Ich werde dich beschützen.”

—---

You feel warm; whatever you're laying on is soft and fluffy. Peeking an eye open to take in the surroundings, you notice that you are on a bed of thick animal furs in some sort of cabin. The room you are in is small, with nothing really in it besides the bed, a small lantern placed on a bedside table, and a large mirror placed next to the door. You sit up in the bed, and you notice that your wrists no longer hurt, you look to find that both of your wrists are delicately wrapped in bandages. Hearing noise coming from the other side of the door, you pull back the furs covering you to slip out of the bed and make your way towards the door. Once you are standing, you look in the mirror so that you get a better look at the new outfit you are wearing. A red knitted sweater you now wear with black wool pants; examining your arms, face, and neck, you don’t see any traces of the strange writing Valeria placed on your skin. When the sounds of movement behind the door once again grab your attention. Walking towards the door, you slowly open the door walking out into what looks to be the main room of the house.

Stepping out of the room, the first thing you notice is the Krampus or Konig you vaguely remember him saying is his name, he sits in the corner of the room with his back facing you, hunched over a crafting table lined with various tools on the wall. Along with the tools hanging on the wall, you see the mask Konig was wearing when he found you in the forest, placed gently on a small hook.

As you walk further into the area you look around the room you are now in what you assume is the living room with the front door next to the small room you just exited, a window on the other side of the door, a small fireplace in the center of the room with a cozy chair facing it, two other doors on the opposite side where Konig sits, and a corridor that look as if it leads into what you assume in the kitchen. You let out a small hum, this house is much smaller and cozier than what you would have assumed an ancient demon who abducts and punishes bad children would live in. During your observation of the house, you failed to notice that Konig had stopped working and was now standing facing you, the mask back on his face.

“I was starting to think that you would not wake up.” His voice startling you in the otherwise silent house.

“How long was I asleep?” you ask tentatively, thinking that it was probably just a couple of hours, seeing that it was still dark outside, judging by the lack of light coming in from the window near the front door of the house.

“A day, I feared your wounds and the cold was too much for you. I tried my best, but my powers are not usually used for helping people.” Seeing him in this light was very strange, even though he still towered over you, he seemed to be trying to make himself appear smaller, probably trying not to scare you, after all you think that you have had enough excitement for a lifetime.

You glance down at your wrists, then gently brush your fingers over the bandages. "Oh... um, thank you for helping me," you say quietly. "Does this mean... my village won't be saved after all? I didn’t think it was possible to fail at being an offering."

He lets out a cruel laugh at your question, his accent even thicker now. “Your village..” he spits out venom in his voice…”They are lucky that I just leave them to fend for themselves during this winter and that I don’t take revenge for what they have done to you by slaughtering them all. I have done more for much less.”

Nervously, you absentmindedly bring your hand up to the jewelry that still lays around your neck, twirling the small bell pendant between your fingers, Konig’s eyes tracing your movements. “But..but why they said we had angered you last Christmas and this was the only way to put an end to the suffering you have plagued us with, the…book it said-” He cuts you off by walking towards you, his hand wraps gently around yours holding the necklace, careful of your wounds caressing your hand.

“I was not angry then but I am now, anyways that is not how I work. I do not know what lies they have told you, but I have no control over the crops, animals, or weather, that is not my doing.”

As he goes to pull his hand away you grab his wrist pleading with him, “no, that is not right. The only reason they left me out there like that was because the book said an offering to you would save the village. Why else would they do that to me?” you whisper the last part mostly to yourself, not seeing any other reason for the actions of the people in your village.

You see his eyes soften from behind the mask, stepping closer his presence only a breath away from you now, cupping your checks and wiping away tears that you did not realize had fallen. “The book you speak of is an ancient book of an offering; this is to be given to me yes, but not for sacrifice or as a way to save a village from misfortune. It speaks of tying someone to me. Bonding their soul to mine forever. I do not know why but I assume they wanted someone to blame for their misfortunes, and I was it. By leaving you to me, writing the runes upon your skin…” his hands now trace your checks down your neck, and your arms where the writing was previously written, “ and wearing my necklace, and since I accepted the offering when I brought you back here with me, we are now linked together forever.”

You stare into his eyes, looking to see if he is telling the truth, finding no lies within his eyes you take a deep breath, your head beginning to hurt with all this new information thrown at you. “I think I need to sit down for a moment,” you say in a breathless whisper.

Konig guides you to the cozy-looking chair sitting in front of the fireplace, placing your head in your hands you lean forward, your elbows on your knees, closing your eyes trying to make sense of everything. Instead of being killed by Krampus like you originally thought you being a sacrifice for the good of the village and everyone in it, they tied your soul to his, making you his soulmate. No matter how long you thought about it you just couldn't make sense of it, how would this solve anything? Why would giving the being they thought responsible for all their troubles a soulmate solve anything.

Lifting your head up from your hands you look up at Konig, who is walking back over to where you sit now holding a glass of water, he must have gone to the kitchen while you were deep in thought. He wordlessly hands you the glass of water, you take a long sip of water not realizing how thirsty you were until that moment. Gasping you say, “Thank you. But I still don’t understand how would this solve anything for the village then? Why would they essentially be rewarding you, if they thought you were the bad guy?”

Taking the now-empty glass from your hands, he lets out a deep sigh. “Once your soul is bound to mine, I have a weakness. Through me, you will have an immortal life, not aging another day as I, but you are still human able to be killed, if you die, I die with you.”

At the sudden news, you jump up out of your seat, craining your head to look up at him but before you could say anything, he adds “do not worry they cannot find you here. No harm will ever come to you, especially not while you wear my necklace. Plus, even if they somehow managed to find their way to my forest they would have to make it through the elves first, and they do not play nicely.” His eyes shine with a knowing look like he knows exactly what would become of anyone who makes there way here without his permission.

Before you could say anything else your stomach starts growling, causing your face to feel warm with embarrassment. Konig lets out a chuckle, “Ah, how rude of me. You must be very hungry, ja. Let us get you some food. Come.”

He reaches his hand out in front of you. You slowly place your hand in his, he gently pulls you to your feet and starts leading you down the corridor to the kitchen. Now that his hand is in yours, you can feel the rough callouses on his skin from years of use. Upon entering the kitchen, you did not expect to see the table already full of delicious-looking food, gasping you look at Konig in question, who simply shrugs his shoulder in response pulling out a chair at the table for you to sit at.

“Do not be shy; have as much as you like.” He says as he sits on the seat on your right, making a plate for himself and piling it high with meat. You begin making your plate, putting a little bit of everything on it, wanting to try everything as most of the food before you is something you have never seen before. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Konig reach up and grab the mask obscuring his face and taking it off and place it in the spot next to him on the table. Your eyes rake over the scars on his face, he must have felt your gaze on him because he turns his head to stare at you.

Giving you a sheepish smile, he apologizes, “I am sorry. I know I am not very nice to look at, but it is difficult to eat with the mask on.”

Shaking your head, “No, you have nothing to apologize for. You just didn’t look how I expected Krampus to look; you are handsome.”

Not knowing how to respond to your kindness, Konig just gives you a grateful smile before continuing to eat, you shortly following his lead.

—-

You've been living with Konig for a few weeks now, and in that time, you've learned a lot about him. He makes toys—though they're unlike anything Santa would create—and the strange creations often come to life, causing chaos wherever they go. He's also started wearing his mask less frequently around the house, especially when it's just the two of you. Still, every now and then, a quiet worry creeps into your mind about the people in your village. You can't help but wonder if they managed to survive the blizzard and the food shortages.

Today, Konig was teaching you how to create snowglobes at his workstation. It turned out to be much more difficult than you’d expected, especially when it came to crafting the perfect sculpture to fit inside. Though you weren’t the best at it, Konig seemed to enjoy teaching you, and that made it all worthwhile.

“Look, Schatz,” he said with a proud smile. “It’s us.”

You stopped what you were doing and turned to see the small sculpture in his hands—a perfect replica of you and him, standing side by side. You gasped in awe. “Wow, that’s beautiful!”

Konig handed you the sculpture, and as you ran your fingers over the intricate details of the hand-carved masterpiece, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth.

“I still have to add color, so I am not done yet.” He sheepishly adds, rubbing the back of his neck at all your praise.

Sudden bangs and the chaos of shouting erupted outside the house, the sounds of a violent struggle growing louder. Konig stands up, grabs your arm, and pulls you up beside him. He begins dragging you to his bedroom. Once inside, he gently places you in the middle of the room and grabs his mask off the nightstand where it usually stays now.

“Stay here, Liebling, do not come out until I come back for you.” Even with his face now covered, you can see the concern for your safety reflecting in his eyes.

Konig turns to leave the room, but before he can make it out of the door, leaving you behind, you run up behind him and grab ahold of his wrist, stopping him in his tracks, “Konig, what’s happening? Don’t leave me alone.”

Pausinghe turns to face you, fully reaching up with both hands on your cheeks. He caresses your face, softly rubbing his thumbs over the apple of your cheeks, “Everything is going to be okay. Just stay here, please.”

Staring into his eyes, wanting to beg him to stay with you and just let his elves handle whatever is happening outside, you know that he does need to go out there; he is Krampus, after all, and is more than capable of taking care of himself. You nod, your face still in his grasp. He leans forward but pauses as if he is second-guessing himself. Letting out a deep sigh from his chest, he put the mouth of the mask on your forehead before walking towards the door, giving you one last glance over, ensuring your safety before he leaves, and shutting the door to his room behind him. You can hear his heavy footsteps throughout the house, the front door open and closed shut, leaving you all alone in the house.

The noise outside has yet to stop; maybe it was just your nerves, but you feel as if, every passing second, he is out there. Something bad could be happening, but you know he is a demon and only truly has one weakness. Which is why he told you to stay in his room, where he knows you will be safe. Trying to clear your mind from the turmoil outside, you begin pacing around his room, counting the number of steps it takes to walk from one corner to the next. You continue to do this for the next couple of minutes while all the noise outside seems to have died down, allowing you to hear some muffled yelling. Right now, you can only make out Konig’s voice, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go out into the living room so that way you can hear more of what is happening.

Quietly, you open the bedroom door, the hinges squeaking, causing you to flinch. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you walk out into the living room towards the front door, placing your ear upon the cool wood. Konig is yelling at someone; his accent becomes thicker the angrier he gets, which sometimes makes him harder to understand. After a brief moment of punching sounds, you hear someone who sounds vaguely familiar, “You killed her, didn’t you, you monster!!”

You gasp, covering your mouth. You throw open the door, rushing outside in the cold, not thinking about grabbing the fur jacket Konig made specially for you. You run down the stairs on the porch. You see Konig standing tall and menacingly in the yard. His elves are all lined up facing him. They are all holding weapons of some kind, looking as rowdy as ever, the bells on the chains wrapped around their body jingling in the wind. You run as fast as you can to where Konig stands, where two elves are standing out from the crowd holding two prisoners hostages, making them kneel before Konig.

Sensing you, Konig whips around his body language, immediately softening at the sight of you, “Liebling, it is too cold for you to be out here.” By the time you reach him, he has already removed his thick red cloak throwing it over your shoulders and wrapping it around your body.

You place your hands on his chest, bunching up his shirt in your grip, “No, Konig! Please don’t hurt them. They are from my village.” Motioning to where the two elves are holding a beaten and bloody Simon and Johnny.

Johnny and Simon are drenched in blood, from head to toe, and you can only hope it’s not all theirs. Their arms are covered in cuts, and their faces are swollen and bruised from what looks like repeated punches. Chains are wrapped tightly around their upper bodies, and the elves standing behind them keep a firm hold, forcing them to kneel in the snow.

At the sight of you in Konig’s arms, Johnny and Simon struggle in the chains, causing the elves to tighten the chains, making them let out pained groans.

Johnny speaks first, “You’re alive!! We went back to the forest that night to save you. Simon and I decided that we couldn’t just leave you out there to die, but when we arrived back at the sight, you were gone, nothing left but the rope.” Guilt fills his voice, looking at you for forgiveness.

Simon moves to stand up, but the elf kicks his leg, causing him to fall back on his knees; looking over his shoulder, he glares at the elf, cursing under his breath. He tries again, jerking his shoulders forward to create some slack in the chain. Once standing, he takes a half step towards you; seeing this, Konig steps in front of you more, making you peek around his back to see what Simon has to say.

“When we got back to the village and told everyone about how we were unsuccessful in rescuing you, everyone started rioting, blaming Shepherd and Philip, saying there should have been another way. They…they told Johnny and I that the book said there was a way to save you. We just had to find Krampus’s hideout and kill him.” Simon glances at Konig, seeing his protective stance around you, and begins rethinking everything he was told by the village leaders.

A loud clapping coming from behind all the elves draws everyone’s attention; Shepherd appears from the darkness, clapping his hands together slowly. Konig moves forward, growling, “What are you doing here?”

Shepherd lets out a loud mocking laugh, “I told you before, Konig. I would get my revenge for what you did to my family. I have been planning my revenge for years. Did you not think I wouldn’t notice you watching them every year and becoming attached to them, so when I was finally able to get my hands on that necklace, I knew this was my chance.”

Konig rolls his shoulders back, standing up to his full height, with hatred in his eyes. He watches Shepherd slowly walk closer to him through the elves who were anxiously waiting for the word to attack. “They were on my list. It is the rules, bad children, and adults who need to be punished. But they have nothing to do with this. Your quarrel is with me.”

You move to step forward to take comfort behind Konig when you feel someone wrap their arms around you from behind, placing a knife at your throat. You fearfully shout, “Konig!”

Hearing your cry for help, he turns around but pauses when he sees you in danger, his breath catching in his throat. “Let her go!” he growls. You have never heard him like this before; it sends a shiver down your spine. The elves are holding up their weapons behind Konig, ready to kill for you.

A laugh rumbles from the chest of the person holding you, one that you used to enjoy hearing the sound of, but now it just sends a sick feeling to your stomach. Philip rests his chin on the top of your head, digging the blade into your neck, causing it to break the skin, a little trial of blood running down your neck. This causes Konig’s entire body to go rigid at the sight of it. He clenches his fists at his side, and you can see the gears turning in his head on how to rescue from his grip without hurting you.

“You didn’t really expect us not to retaliate against you. I think us giving you a little soulmate was mighty nice of Shepherd and me. I mean, we even gave you some time together before sending in those two as a diversion…”

He points the knife over at Johny and Simon before placing the knife back at your throat, “So you wouldn’t suspect us, and we could just waltz on in here and grab your soulmate, killing them essentially killing you. But I really did not expect it to go so easily.” Philip laughs, tightening his arms around you. You silently plead with Konig to do anything.

Shepherd, having made his way through the horde of elves, pats Konig on the back condescendingly, “Now you will know what it is like to lose everything, but you’ll be joining them shortly.”

The chains around Johnny and Simon had slackened considerably due to the elves' concern for you and Konig’s safety. Simon used the slack of the chain to throw it around Shepherd's neck, pulling back into his hold. Shepherd’s hands immediately go to the chain around his throat, trying to keep it from choking him, but to no avail; Simon is not letting go, no matter how much he struggles.

Philip removes the knife from your throat to point it threateningly at Simon, “HEY! You let him go now!”

With the knife no longer about to end your life and Philip distracted, Konig sees the perfect opportunity to strike. Konig rushes forward, grabbing Philip’s hand that holds the knife, bending his wrist back with a sickening crack, causing him to scream out in pain, dropping the knife in the snow. Konig’s other hand wraps around Philip’s throat. He lets go of you in favor of trying to pry off Konig’s hands off his throat. You fall to the snow and crawl out of the way. One of the elves comes up behind you, pulling you in their embrace to keep you safe. Your head is pressed into their chest to keep you from seeing anything that is happening behind you.

Konig now has both hands wrapped around Philip’s throat, lifting him into the air, his feet no longer touching the ground. Philip is clawing at his hands, gasping out for breath, his face turning colors due to the lack of oxygen. Konig leans forward, whispering in his ear, “Do not touch what is mine.” A loud crack resonates throughout the forest; Philip's hands fall to his limp, throwing his body down. Konig sprints to where you are cowering in the elf's grasp.

“Liebling, are you okay? What hurts?” He places his hand on your back, trying to access any more damage on you. Feeling Konig’s comforting touch on your back, you throw yourself into his awaiting arms, tears flowing soaking into his shirt.

“I was so scared; I thought they were going to hurt us.” you sob into his chest; he rubs your back soothingly as you try to catch your breath.

The familiar sound of the bells jingling causes you and Konig to look over to where Shepherd now lays wrapped in the chains at the feet of Simon and Johnny, who hold both ends of the chains. “Should we kill him?” Johnny asks, looking at Konig.

Konig stands up with you standing in front of him, wrapped safely in his arms, turning to face them both. “Nein, I have a better idea. Elfen bringen ihn in die Grube.”

With their orders now given, a handful of elves move forward, snarling and laughing, grabbing the chains from Johnny and Simon and begin dragging Shepherd’s screaming body through the snow towards the pits.

Konig walks to Simon and Johnny, stopping in front of them with you still with him. Simon looks at you, then Konig, “What are you going to do to us?” asks Simon, sighing regrettably.

Reaching up and removing the mask covering his face, Konig puts one hand on both of the men's shoulder’s, “You both helped me. Distracting Philip, so I was able to act. Thank you. You are free to return to your village, become the new leaders, and do a better job than those two. Though I must warn you once you leave my forest, you are never to return, or else my elves will not be as kind to you next time.”

They both nod their heads at Konig in agreement and turn to leave. The rest of the elves make a path for them to walk through, none of the elves messing with either man as per Konig’s wishes. However, it did not stop the elves from keeping a close eye on them until they were completely off their territory.

Konig kneels down in front of you, placing his head against your stomach, “I was so scared when I saw you in danger. I thought I was about to lose you forever, and I panicked. I am so sorry.” he says, his voice muffled from being pressed against you. Running your hands through his hair, you move his head up to look at you.

“Konig, you have nothing to be sorry for. I should have listened to you and stayed inside; it was all my fault. I am sorry, but thank you for saving me.” You pull him up and give him a hug.

Leaning your head back, you look up at his face, staring into each other eyes. He slowly leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath fanning your face, standing on your tippy toes, you press your lips to his, feeling your lips on his. He immediately kisses back, placing one hand on the back of your head and pulling you closer to him.

Cheering and laughter erupt in the background, causing you to pull away from each other. Seeing all the elves going crazy at the sight of you and Konig kissing causes you to throw your head back, laughing before you bury your face in his chest, making him laugh in return.

“Come on, Liebling. Let’s go back inside.”

—-

The next day, you and Konig are sitting cuddled up together in the living room in front of the fire, enjoying each other’s company. Konig stops rubbing your back and turns his body to face yours fully, his face full of nervousness.

“If you want, you can go back to your village. I will understand if you wish to leave, and I will hold no grudges against you or the town. I….” you stop him from talking any further.

“And if I want to stay here with you?” you ask, looking down shyly, scared that maybe he was saying all that stuff because he did not want you here anymore.

He places his finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him, “then I will spend every day of our life together doing whatever I can to make you happy. Trying to prove to you how much you mean to me.” He leans forward, connecting your lips together in a kiss.

The warm glow of the fireplaces bathed you both in a soft, calming light, casting a peaceful aura over the room. Above the mantel, the snowglobe, Konig crafted, an intricate, perfect representation of the two of you, sat proudly. Its glass shimmered gently in the flickering flames, showing the love and care he put into creating it.

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ofcrowsanddragons · 3 days ago

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Rookanis and Romance Archetypes

I have longer thoughts that I should probably write out, but here's where I'm at with Lucanis and Rook as a romance (I Love Them).

First of all, when you're looking at the capital-R Romance genre (not to be confused with the Romanticism movement, because we WILL be here all day), one of the most important bits of analysis to start with is determining what the "fantasy" might be and who it's for. Judgement-free. Occasionally, a friend will approach me about a book, boggled that all their friends like it, and we'll play this game. "What's the fantasy" is important, because otherwise we get bogged down with judgements like "Don't women know that a love interest like this would be bad for them?"

Yes, usually. Take the older stereotypical bodice ripper where the love interest kidnaps the heroine and carries her away to have his way with her. In this fantasy, the heroine is perceived as beautiful and irresistible and doesn't have to cross the social boundary of Having Desire. Another version of this is more common today (in the books that people will admit to reading), and that's the fantasy where the heroine has desire, but the love interest is uniquely capable of intuiting it and returning it.

Coming back to Veilguard:

Lucanis/Rook is flipped in-game, as far as romance archetypes go. For all that Rook is the protagonist of the game at large, you get hints in early game flirting scenes that this romance isn't going to go the way you might be expecting. When it comes down to it, Rook is the love interest, and Lucanis is the hero (i.e., the character referred to more commonly as the heroine).

In the romance arc, of the two of them, Lucanis is the one with the Disney/musical theatre "I want" song. The fantasy is for someone to see him as he is and to reach out for him where he's at. This feels impossible at the beginning! He's newly an abomination, he's a killer, and he feels that there's something deeply wrong with him as a human being—that there always has been.

His fantasy becomes that as he works through his current family issues, his dangerous supernatural malady*, and his sometimes panicked response to the pressure of saving the world, there's half a chance that there might be someone who will wait for him at the end of it. And when he gets to the point where he can face the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, there will still be someone who looks at him and sees something better than what he sees in himself.

The fantasy for the player is an uncommon one, for the romance genre: it's the fantasy of being capable of being that person to someone else. Rook can be capable of handling anything life throws at them. Rook doesn't need to be afraid of any kind of violence. More importantly, Rook can be worthy of that kind of trust.

Next time, I argue that Neve/Lucanis and Rook/Lucanis are both illustrations of healing in a positive direction, but in different ways.

*Don't @ me over this. Being fused together the way they are is dangerous for both Spite and Lucanis

#we love and respect neve gallus in this house #also i have thoughts about how lucanis sees spite as a reflection of himself and oh boy that does not make things easy for the poor demon #lucanis x rook #rook x lucanis #rookanis #lucanis dellamorte #veilguard meta #veilguard spoilers #da veilguard #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #crow thoughts #veilguard #da: the veilguard #romance tropes #character meta

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thy-lovelylionheart · 3 days ago

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Mike Wheeler: S4 Outfits & Identity Crisis Analysis

One of aspects of s4 I find the most interesting is Mike's costuming. We see him in 4 distinct outfits in this season (not counting the white t-shirt look since it's not a separate outfit), and they are all interesting in their own right. But ultimately, they all contrast each other and represent different aspects of Mike's internal conflict and identity crisis.

s4 is the season where Mike's internal conflict is externalized via his costume design. He’s trying to figure out who he is and – like for so many queer teens – it starts with his hair and his clothes.

Shout-out to @glisten-inthedark because it was during a fantastic discussion that I drafted out a much shorter, much rougher version of this analysis!

*Disclaimer: While a lot of my analysis is formatted as statements – more out of habit from years of writing academic essays than anything – much of this is still speculation and subjective opinion. If you have a different perspective or disagree with my analysis, that's perfectly fine! This is just my interpretation.

First up, my second favorite outfit: The Hellfire outfit.

If you put this Mike beside any of his s3 outfits, the difference is incredibly stark. s3 Mike has bright colors, neons spread throughout the palette, nearly all of them collared shirts. Yet the first outfit we see Mike wear in s3 is edgier: nearly all-black, featuring the word HELLFIRE loud and proud, the face of a tiefling or daemon, and weapons. This is also the first time we've seen Mike wear a graphic tee, which is more up Dustin's alley.

Not only this, but his hair is long enough to brush his shoulders, the longest we've ever seen it. Finn Wolfhard calls it "kind of the most metal Mike's hair has ever been."

So why is this so important? Let's talk about modeling for a second.

Dustin models himself after Steve in parts of s2. He listens to Steve's romantic advice and styles his hair like Steve's for the Snow Ball. For Dustin, Steve represents the masculine, heternormative ideal: the kind of guy who girls want to date, a "ladies man." When Dustin does find a girlfriend who loves him for him, he stops modeling after Steve in terms of outward appearance and returns to his own personal sense of style in s3. In fact, it's Dustin who ends up giving Steve romantic advice in s3, because their roles have flipped: Dustin is comfortable in who he is and his romantic prospects, whereas Steve is struggling. ("Instead of dating somebody because you think it's gonna make you cooler, why not date somebody you actually enjoy being around?"

Lucas wears a Karate Kid shirt in s3 bc Max thinks Ralph Macchio is attractive, so he wears clothes that reference him to appeal to her, his girlfriend, but he mixes it with his classic camo bandana because Lucas has a very strong sense of self that was only rocked in s4, when he tries to model after the basketball team, who are also representative of (1980's) socially acceptable masculinity and heteronormativity, for popularity's sake. But he ends up rejecting their blind conformity and regains his sense of self by the middle of the season.

And Mike…..models after Eddie. Eddie “forced conformity is what’s killin’ the kids” Munson. Not just in clothes, but in his more "metal" hairstyle. Eddie even makes a note about Mike’s wardrobe change during the cafeteria scene, saying he’s no longer wearing whatever his mom buys him at the GAP, which highlight this change for the audience.

This is significant because even though Dustin and Lucas are his fellow nerds, even though both Dustin and Lucas end up being chased down by Jason & Friends for their status as members of the Hellfire Club, even though they're labeled as outcasts and reject conformity in their own way –

– they still model themselves after classic heteronormative and socially acceptable representations of masculinity, while Mike is the only one who actively models himself after the school “freak" and vocal non-conformist.

Sure, Dustin wears the Hellfire shirt too, but Dustin is the graphic tee king of the show and he still wears an iconic baseball cap and overlays his graphic tee with a fun and funky button-up in s4. How he dresses in s4 is wholly consistent with his identity throughout the rest of the show. Whereas Mike's first outfit of the show contrasts heavily with all of his outfits from the previous seasons particularly s3.

And this is intentional. This is what Amy Parris, costume designer for Stranger Things says in this GQ interview about it:

Mike's Hellfire Outfit represents his growing internal resistance to and rejection of conformity and societal expectation.

....which is exactly why the airport outfit gives the viewer such insane whiplash.

It is bright, gaudy, dorky, cartoonish and a completely different person than we were just shown. It's no version of Mike we've ever seen. Sure, we've seen him in shorts, and that surfer shirt is technically a button-up, but that hat? Those glasses? Flip-flops? It's so clearly an act that it's laughable.

Amy Parris, in the same GQ interview as before, goes as far to say, "We knew we'd wanted something that felt like an outfit maybe he would've bought at the airport before he got there."

This isn't Mike. This is Mike's attempt at conformity, post-meeting and modeling after Eddie. This is Mike feeling like who he is in Hawkins – the edgier Mike who models after the school "freak" – isn't the "right" version of himself to immediately present to El after months and months apart. Almost like he feels the need to wear something more similar to what he wore in s3, the shorts and the bright colors, to "ease into" the rest of his wardrobe, because when he's with El, he strives to present as "normal."

Finn Wolfhard says this about Mike in s4: "I think Mike's just trying to be as normal as possible and trying to keep on a normal path." Yet Mike says this in s4: "Have you ever considered that we don't want to be popular?"

If Mike isn't trying to be "normal" in Hawkins and is sitting at lunch with the school "freak," then in what ways he is trying to be "normal"? It's when he's with El in California, particularly their first day before everything goes to hell. Yet we see that "normal" = not himself.

Amy Parris notes in the GQ interview that they picked an orange (a rather yellow orange) button-up because it's the opposite of what Mike normally wears (blue tones).

The purple shirt is also an attempt for him to appeal toward El because purple, according to Mike, is one of her favorite colors. He is trying to appeal to El's taste/likes while wearing the literal opposite of what he normally does.

Mike's Airport Outfit represents his attempts to conform to heteronormativity and society's expectation of what a "good straight boyfriend" does, is, and looks like – and how unnatural and unlike himself this attempt is.

This plaid look is my personal favorite Mike look in s5. This is one of the very few times we see Mike with an untucked shirt – possibly the first time we see him wearing a button-up/collared shirt and it's not tucked in. Untucked makes him look less preppy, taller, and more mature. It's a very flattering look and especially refreshing after the airport look.

But, I also have a lot to say about this symbolism of this particular outfit.

The rich blue is a standard Mike color, so it's the first outfit he wears in s4 that feels familiar to us. Additionally, the hint of yellow is commonly speckled throughout Mike's wardrobe. However, look at the pattern. It's plaid.

We all know by now that Mike is the king of stripes. Stripes and the color blue are the most consistent aspect of his wardrobe other than his calculator watch. But plaid?

There are only two instances in the entire show where Mike wears plaid. (I've triple-checked this, but if I still somehow overlooked anything, please let me know!) Here, in s4, and in his final scene in s1:

(top row is unedited, bottom row is brightened – no I couldn't get a flattering screenshot of the second image lol)

A blue plaid with (faint) yellow accents. Hm. How intriguingly familiar!

In s1, we see Mike experiencing conflicting emotions in his final scene. He is very happy that Will is back and that Will is having fun with his DND game. But he is also sad that Eleven is gone and experiencing survivor's guilt. His emotions are split between Will and El. This emotional turmoil is illustrated with the use of much busier pattern than Mike normally wears, but because that pattern is plaid, a pattern Will often wears, it aligns him with Will.

Why does plaid connect Mike to Will yet not El, even though El has worn plaid before? Because El has only worn plaid because of her circumstances, not her own personal style.

El first wears plaid when Hopper gives her his flannel in s1. This continues into s2 when she begins living with him. She's receiving either hand-me-downs from him or boy's clothes because he's having to hide the fact that he's sheltering a girl wanted by the government. If Hop were to start buying girl's clothing/more feminine clothing, that would be suspicious. When El goes on her shopping spree with Max in s3, after Max tells her to focus on what feels like her – "not Hopper, not Mike, you" – she picks bold, bright colors and abstract patterns, completely avoiding plaid. Then, in s4, El is living with the Byers and receiving their hand-me-downs and borrowing from their closets.

Amy Parris confirms this in the GQ interview, that what El wears in s2 is meant to feel mismatched, borrowed, and hand-me-down because she is trying to figure out who she is in Lenora.

She also says this:

It was intentional that when El wore plaid in s4, it was meant to remind the audience of Will and look as though she was wearing his clothes.

Which means Plaid = Will, not El.

So let's put this all together: Mike has worn plaid once before, when he was experiencing conflicting emotions torn between Will and El. Plaid is Will's pattern, not El's. Blue is Mike's color, and it's commonly known that yellow is Will's, which means that not only is Mike wearing Will's pattern, he's wearing a hint of Will's color. On a more minor note, the return of the black jeans and converse from his Hawkins/Hellfire outfit means that the facade had dropped and he's slipping back into what he's more comfortable in.

It's also notable that Mike wears a blue plaid shirt the very next day after Will wears a blue plaid shirt. (Also, Will's blue plaid shirt has more white, which suits his wardrobe more than black, whereas Mike's blue plaid shirt has more black, which suits Mike's.)

And this is the shirt Mike wears during his fight with Eleven, where she calls him out on never saying, "I love you," accuses him of thinking she's a monster, and he calls her ridiculous and tries to place the burden of their relationship issues on other people ("You can't let those mouthbreathers ruin you! Ruin us!")

Visually, the plaid tells us what's going on in Mike's head and heart.

Mike's Plaid Outfit represents his internal conflict between Will and El while simultaneously betraying where his true feelings lie: with Will.

Last outfit! The outfit he spends nearly a full week wearing, the teal outfit.

Right off the bat, this color is one we've seen him wearing before in s3. However, as @hawkinsschoolcounselor points out in this brilliant post, the teal polo he wears in s3 looks nearly identical to one his father wears in the same season.

This has a few nuanced implications.

Firstly, in s3, it carries the visual implication that s3 Mike is currently on a path that could cause him to turn out like Ted. What does s3 Mike do? He neglects his friendships to spend time making out with his girlfriend, tries to reject his childhood hobbies and passions as childish (Ted disdainfully calls toys "hunks of plastic," in s2) and something he needs to grow out of, and, like Ted, makes a comment that could be interpreted as a homophobic slight – ("It's not my fault you don't like girls!" – a comment that I believe is a moment of projection for Mike due to internalized homophobia, not legitimate homophobia toward Will. In s3, Mike is trying to be "normal," "grown-up," socially acceptable and heteronormative.

Remember how I talked about modeling earlier? Yeah, s3 Mike models after Ted in mild aspects.

Yet the very next season, it's revealed that his rejection of his hobbies, passions, and games like DND was a complete farce. He returns to wholly embracing DND and, other than this teal color, stops dressing like Ted. He stops modeling after his father, much to Ted's disappointment: "Might as well call [Hellfire] the high school dropout club."

Secondly, because this teal color ties Mike to Ted, it's notable that this is the color that Mike wears when he tells Eleven he loves her.

(Now if you've read this far, my guess is you're a Byler fan and you've read 50 million analyses of the I love you speech, but if you haven't, the gist of the conclusion of those analyses is this: Mike felt pressured to say he loved El in order to save her and because he believed she commissioned the painting, but he tells provable lies during it that will be dismantled in s5.)

If teal is a color Mike wore during a season where he's modeling after Ted, a husband who the show makes very clear is lacking in passion to the point of his wife feeling unsatsified, a father emotionally distant from his two eldest children, and a man who is the epitome of heteronormativity and the typical mundane nuclear family man – this does not bode well for the success of Mike's romantic relationship with El, nor does it frame his romantic relationship with El in a healthy light.

Thirdly, there are several key differences between s4's teal shirt and s3's teal shirt.

Mike's s3 teal shirt is buttoned-up to the top button (in most of his scenes wearing this shirt) and is tucked into higher-waisted black shorts. It's solid-colored, neat, and preppy, and gives two hilariously contrasting impressions: the outfit of a little boy, and the outfit of a tween trying to dress like an adult.

In s4, however, Mike's outfit is partially unbuttoned, revealing a white tshirt beneath, with gives it a more sporty or even outdoorsy vibe. It's also not a solid color and has angular grey accents – particularly, triangular and diamond shaped accents.

This is what Amy Parris has to say about those grey accents, + what she says about how they purposefully added triangles to Robin's outfit as LGBTQ+ symbolism:

Because of this, it is not a stretch to speculate that the angular accents and, in particular, triangle design on Mike's breast pocket is a nod to his queercoding.

It's no coincidence that this is the shirt Mike wears during his bedroom talks with Will, the van scene with Will, his interrupted pizza parlor talk with El (that reads more like an impending apology and amicable breakup, not a confession – just mute the music look at his face during that scene, and El's), and his speech to El.

Most notably, it's the shirt he's wearing during this moment:

Look at Mike's face. Look at how conflicted he is. How guilty. This is the first time since Mike put on this teal shirt, the first time since he had his two separate bedroom talks with Will, the first time since "as a team," and "best friends," and the van scene & painting, that Mike has to deal with Will and Eleven at the same time.

Mike's Teal Outfit represents the tug-of-war between two contrasting concepts: his internal struggle with practicing comphet and heteronormativity (pursuing a romantic relationship with El and pretending to be straight), and his growing internal resistance to comphet/hetnorm and desire to embrace a truer, more alternative/noncomforming identity (his true romantic feelings for Will and accepting his queer identity).

Conclusion

I could honestly continue this post with analysis of the s5 outfits we've seen from Mike and what that means for his characterization/arc in the final season, but this post is long enough already. Perhaps when we get more content/trailers for s5, I might put out a speculative post in anticipation for it.

If you have a different perspective and want to share it, feel absolutely free! I'd love to hear other people's thoughts.

#byler analysis #byler #mike wheeler #mike wheeler analysis #stranger things #stranger things analysis #please let this show up in the tags i swear if it doesn't!!!#long post #i should figure out how many words this is

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oddyseye · 3 days ago

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Let’s talk about translations of the Odyssey for a second, because, honestly, I’m over here sobbing over how ridiculous some of these choices are.

Every time I pick up a new translation, I hope it’ll finally capture the true grit and messiness of Odysseus, but nope, every one of them polishes him up too much, turning him into either a tragic hero or a charming rogue. Where’s the Odysseus who lies as easily as he breathes, who manipulates his way through every encounter, and who leaves a trail of ruin wherever he goes? I want the man whose brilliance is as sharp as his selfishness, whose cleverness cuts both ways — not just a hero, but a survivor who’s as flawed as he is formidable.

Anyway, I’m gonna break down the biggest mistranslations that really make me want to pull my hair out and remind everyone how different the original Greek actually is. Prepare yourselves.

Let’s start with the absolute disaster that is Telemachus and Peisistratus’ bond. Homer used the word ὁμοφροσύνη to describe their relationship, a term that’s about fucking soulmates, alright? But what do these translators do? They water it down to “just good friends” or “nice companions.” It’s about a relationship where minds and hearts are aligned — telepathic level shit, not just a handshake between two dudes. Yet these translators just gloss over the whole thing, so you get this milquetoast version of their relationship when it’s actually so much more.

Homer says: "ὁμοφροσύνησιν ἐνὶ καρδίᾳ ἐνθα καὶ ἄλλων οὐδὲν ἐπέλθομεν" ("In like-mindedness of heart, where no other man could compare.") So, Telemachus sees Peisistratus as someone he’s totally aligned with, in a way that’s almost romantic in its depth. ὁμοφροσύνη is usually used for romantic couples most often.

Then, we’ve got Odysseus and Calypso, which — oh my god, don’t even get me started on this absolute trainwreck of a translation. The term ἀνάγκῃ is used when Homer talks about Odysseus’ “relationship” with Calypso, but translators somehow miss the force behind the word. It doesn’t just mean “necessity” like they’d have you think. It means force, violence, and distress. When Odysseus is on Calypso’s island, stuck there with her, it’s not this peaceful love story where Odysseus is some willing lover. It’s a prison. There’s no choice, and no one’s riding off into the sunset together. But translations just gloss over this desperation and make it sound so much more peaceful and comfortable than it ever was. It’s forced captivity, and the use of ἀνάγκῃ screams that: “ἔνθα μὲν ἀμφ᾽ ἀνάγκῃ, τῇ δὲ θεὰ ἐρῶσά μιν ἔσχε.” (“There he stayed out of necessity, for the goddess, in her love, held him there.”).

Homer uses the same word when Odysseus describes his time with Circe: “ἀλλ᾽ ἔμεν᾽ ἐν σπέσσι λαῶν ἀνάγκῃ.” (“But I stayed in her halls by necessity.”). Again, ἀνάγκῃ shows that Odysseus's relationship with Circe is dictated by forces beyond his control. His connection to her isn’t out of love or desire, but out of a divine obligation, a situation where choice is completely stripped away. It’s not love; it’s divine manipulation. So much for romantic freedom!

And let’s not forget how Homer actually portrays the suitors and their reaction to Antinous’ violence. After Antinous, in his full rage, decides to throw a chair at disguised Odysseus, other suitors chime in, disapproving of his actions. They say things like “ἀργὸς εἶναι,” which roughly translates to “you’re acting cowardly,” and “ἀτασθαλία,” meaning “reckless.” They’re still on the same side, sure, but they can’t quite get behind the utter savagery of his actions, and it’s maddening how this detail is often glossed over in some translations. They make it sound like they were all in on the violence, but in the original text, these suitors are not all cut from the same brutal cloth, no matter how much some translators want to make them seem like one big mob.

Homer uses the word οἰκέτες to refer to the people in Odysseus' house. "οἰκέτες" means slaves, people who are literally owned by the household. But oh, what happens in the translations? We get “maids” and “servants,” as if these slaves were just there because they wanted to be, doing chores like it was a normal job. But no, they’re not “maids,” and they sure as hell aren't "servants" in the modern sense. These people have no freedom — they belong to Odysseus. The translation of οἰκέτες as "maids" completely erases the brutality of the system that Homer is talking about.

Interestingly, Telemachus, who is often portrayed as rude or immature, calls these individuals “servants” or "maids" in a more respectful manner. This is the same guy who can barely get his act together most of the time, but here he is, calling the οἰκέτες — slaves, remember — not just slaves but “ἄνδρες ἰκέτες,” which translates to "men-servants" or “butlers.” Like, hello, Telemachus! For once, he’s actually treating them like people instead of just the property that they are in Homer’s original telling. Respectful? Who knew?

And lastly, let’s talk about Penelope. Odysseus, when he finally speaks to her, he says: "ἀλλὰ μὴ ἐπεὶ καὶ σὺ μὲν ἔμπεδος ἐν οἴκῳ, ἔτλησαν δ’ ἐμαὶ ἄλγεα." ("But you, steadfast in your home, endured my sorrows."). Odysseus sees Penelope as the rock, the one who has suffered patiently in his absence. Unlike the goddesses, she’s his equal in suffering, not a forced relationship due to divine will. He longs for her, and her presence stands in stark contrast to the chaotic, imposed relationships he’s had with Circe and Calypso. Penelope is the constant, the one Odysseus has chosen — no divine manipulation, just pure, enduring love.

Anyway, all of this goes to show that translations can twist what Homer was actually trying to say — especially when it comes to the relationships in the story. It’s frustrating to see these critical, subtle moments get flattened into bland, palatable phrases. Maybe if they spent less time trying to make everything sound "noble" and more time actually getting at the grit of what Homer wrote, we wouldn’t have to deal with these watered-down, emotionless versions of The Odyssey that everyone is so obsessed with.

#the odyssey #greek mythology #odysseus #calypso #circe #telemachus #i love the odyssey #but i hate mistranslations

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libraford · 3 days ago

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Misty Copeland, my beloved.

I can't even say that 'appreciation' is the word, at least in the case of bellydance. It's just what happens when a culture touches another. Because 'bellydance' itself is a very broad term that encompasses a variety of dance styles that may have no verifiable country of origin.

Correct me of I'm wrong, of course!

Under a cut because apparently I'm infodumping on dance history.

The best we have as an origin people are the Ghawazee, and today's style looks very little like their practice (which is still taught by it's sole remaining member). But the people traveled before settling in Egypt, so a clear origin is difficult to pinpoint. And you do hear claims that bellydance is Egyptian, and while it's not untrue, it's not the entire story- Ghawazee spent some time in Egypt and the style stuck around to have a stylistic exchange. And a lot of the old Hollywood depictions of bellydance are something between this cultural fusion and awalim. All of these styles, and so many more of that region, informed each other and inspired each other as trade routes between countries became more common, and the Ottoman Empire brought it northward as far as modern day Austria.

And the dance style has been criticized pretty much everywhere it goes. Like our earliest footage of the dance was as a Victorian sideshow that was considered by the primarily white male audience to be vulgar. But as Egyptian film made this style more easily accessed, fondness for it grew, and we enter Golden Age of Bellydance- which was not always not the most culturally sensitive depiction, but it gave a lot of dancers a chance to show their skills to a wider audience- and now women want to learn it too! Teachers pop up everywhere, even though it's still considered a little risque in many cultures.

Bellydance was being seen all over the world because of cinema, even if inaccurate so. And there was a fascination with Egypt that made it the center of attention for a lot of film. There were tons of middle eastern dance clubs, though they were, again, kind of a fantasy version of it.

And then it got hairy.

Iranian Revolution in 1979 put a lot of restrictions on dance. If you were a dance teacher affected by this, your choices were either stop dancing or immigrate to a country where you'd be allowed to teach. So you see a huge boom in the 80s of Egyptian Cabaret styles taking root in the US because the interest in Egyptian culture made it easy to set up shop.

So most of what you're seeing today in modern stage styles is either second or third generation of Egyptian Cabaret style through several layers of translation, which in itself is deep in layers of translation, applied to the melting pot of America and then to the exposure of film, TV, music video, YouTube, Instagram, and then finally TikTok.

And that's fucking fascinating! The cultural exchange that had to happen for us to get that half-beat Turkish drop is high key cool af, just to think about all of the steps we had to go through to get here. It is an ever-evolving discipline of dance, and the fact that Shining Protector is still teaching the old ways of her people to keep traditions alive is AMAZING!

We should want this. And I don't know how to explain to people that sometimes the watered-down white people spicy version is the gateway drug to taking an active interest in a different culture.

When one culture comes in contact with another and the peoples share the things that enrich their lives, that is cultural exchange. But I think it's hard for some people to see any interaction with a white culture as neutral-positive. And it's somewhat difficult to explain the difference.

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secriden · 6 hours ago

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Watching Joong's Hurt Me Please MV with the context of how episode 6 ended and how this is likely a song about Fadel's thoughts and feelings about Style after Finding Out, I wanted to take a deeper look at the lyrics.

I have transcribed the English lyrics on Youtube side by side with a fan translated version (credit: bl_zonee on Twitter) just because there's different shades of meaning between them that I find really interesting and I'm curious which one is the more accurate translation or if both are valid, but just give different nuance. (Perhaps a mutual who understands Thai would be willing to give some insight? *u*)

Verse 1 makes a lot of sense to me: Fadel must be wondering how Style could be so cruel ("unkind" / "heartless") because every instance of Style being honest and asking for honesty in return, all of Style's genuine desperation to bare his heart to Fadel in episode 5 and 6, now looks like a calculated, cruel deception.

And after being so afraid to reveal his secret to Style for fear that it would make Style walk away from him, there's a painful irony in Fadel now wishing Style had walked away before. Because the betrayal hurts so much more now that Fadel has given in to his heart.

The chorus is where the nuance between the translations gets interesting.

The Youtube version seems almost like a Fadel is taunting Style, putting up a front that he can take the pain Style is dishing out and more.

The MV also depicts Style smiling sadistically after slapping Fadel, as if he's enjoying the pain he's inflicting. Meanwhile, Fadel looks up almost in adoration, a strange softness in his eyes at odds with how cruelly he's being treated. The knowledge of Style's betrayal has turned Style into a monster in Fadel's mind, one which he cannot help but to still have soft, affectionate feelings.

But the fan translation sounds much more hurt and accusatory. Fadel is expressing his pain and anguish much more plainly and "you did this to me" is a line that demands responsibility.

In both translations, though, the last line ("can't get enough" / "enjoying the pain") gives us a hint that Fadel isn't willing to give Style up even now. Despite the pain, despite feeling as if he's simultaneously burning up and drowning, there's a part of him that still wants this. That still wants Style.

Interestingly, as Fadel sings the last line he begins to visibly struggle against the rope tying him to the chair. The soft look vanishes and in place is a determination and shadow that spells trouble for Style. The shock is wearing off and Fadel is starting to fight back.

Verse 2 is where the agony really hits, for me.

In both versions, Fadel recognises the way Style's love was (maybe still is?) precious to him ("your love feeds my soul" / "your love nourished my heart"). But because Style's love is a lie, it's transformed into a weapon ("poison"). It twists Style's love into a source of "hurt" to Fadel.

Which is why I think both versions have a line where Fadel admits that there's a part of him that wants Style to keep hurting him -- or rather, to keep loving him; because these are the same thing to Fadel now -- ("hurt me, make me feel used" / "the more I was hurt the more I enjoyed it") whilst also remaining accusatory (both: "the more I loved, the more sorrow/I suffered").

The lines about "nothing left to write about our love" / "our story" also feel very pointed and final. A closing of a chapter; a closing of the possibility of their former, uncomplicated happily ever after. Style has nothing left to write (report) back to his superiors (the police) because Fadel's love is already complete and his deception has reached the inevitable conclusion of Fadel being found out/destroyed.

All this happens while we see Style continuing to threaten Fadel with a golf club juxtaposed with flashes of Fadel and Style in much happier times.

Also the fact that this line comes with this scene *sobs uncontrollably):

The first chorus comes back once and the music reaches a plateau. We are clearly preparing for a drop, a key change, or a modulation and we get exactly the last one (twice!) with the second chorus:

Here, both versions converge: Fadel is angry, he's furious. Style hurt him and he's going to repay all of it and more ("you'll hurt [by much more]" / "you must suffer more than I did"). The lyrics tell us that, while Fadel cannot take back the hurt (take back his love), he can certainly ensure he isn't alone in the suffering.

It is at this part where my heart sank as I realised that Fadel's "I think I love you" line in episode 6 now takes on a much more sinister tone.

Because I think that discovering Style's betrayal was also what made Fadel realise the truth of his love for Style; the very agony he was in was the sign that Fadel's heart was lost to him. But even as it is true, I also think he still made the choice to ruin Style in the same breath.

There is, however, one piece of hope:

Despite Fadel's expressed fury, what the MV shows us is Fadel breaking out of his bonds, shoving Style back and punching him once and then:

For all his anger, for all his rage, for all his threats of manifold vengeance, what we see is Fadel pressing close and kissing Style; once on the lips, and once on his chest (heart), all while the lyrics makes space for one last plea:

("don't betray me")

For me, its the way the line is shown together with this direct visual parallel between the ignorant Fadel in the past (left) and the Fadel of the present who has seen through Style's deception (right) that I find particularly compelling.

Conclusion: Style will be given a chance to prove himself to Fadel.

Because Fadel cannot help himself. Because Style made Fadel's bleeding heart whole again; and it beats, it feels, and despite how much it hurts, what Fadel still wants more than anything else in the world -- desperately and simply -- is Style.

#joong archen #the heart killers #thk ost #thk meta #fadelstyle #fadel #another detail i loved was how the style that is beating fadel up looks NOTHING like the style we see in the show #he's dressed in dark colours; he's cold and sinister and seemingly unfeeling; he doesn't even MOVE the way style does in the show #but the style in the flashback scenes very much DOES looks like the style in the show - warm and affectionate and playful #and notably in all the flashback scenes style and fadel are always in the same state of undress (tank tops)#because that suggests an equal level of vulnerability #ahh i loved this although i hated it #but ngl i felt a bit comforted by the ending #i mean i know the narrative/genre/source already tells us that we'll get our happily ever after #but a part of me is so so grateful that the potential for this forgiveness is still present even NOW; even at the point of discovery #because that shows just how much fadel LOVES [intentional present tense] style #dunk natachai #did a fantastic job with all the “roles” he had in this mv #but dammit joong was BREATHTAKING #also the almost screech-like quality his voice takes on during the 2nd modulation which mimics the way fadel's fury has reached a frenzy #its crazy he's crazy THEY'RE CRAZY <33333

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firegirl888101 · 1 day ago

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Insatiable Madness

Diverted-Dimension (Christmas 2024)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Why am I back here again!? Take me back to the canon!

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Finally!" You cheered, stepping back to admire the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room.

"It looks good." Pantalone commented, looking at all the trinkets placed on the tree. "Although, I believe this gadget would look better placed there... And this bauble, yes, hmm, perhaps on the branch above rather than--"

Y'know, it always takes one person to ruin everyone else's happiness doesn't it? Especially when their name is Pantalone. You rolled your eyes, ignoring his fiddling with what you considered a complete and beautiful tree.

Let's just hope Columbina doesn't see him fiddling with her decorations. For Pantalone's sake, you pray she takes five extra minutes in the bathroom so he can have a safe getaway when he's finished with something he sees as necessary.

Anyway, you've been preparing for Christmas day tomorrow. You wanted to put up the tree earlier, not wanting to leave it this late, however being busy babysitting and making sure all the Harbingers go to work with a happy mood sure takes up a lot of time. Not only does it feel like you're playing a very dangerous version of the Sims, but more importantly, it sucks that when all of them leave you have to entertain the others that don't go to work in the first place.

"It feels like the tree is missing something." Dottore chimed in, standing back with a finger on his bottom lip.

"Please don't say that, The Regrator is already driving himself mad with his own activities." Arlecchino stated

Ignoring those two... They're right, something seems wrong with the tree. But you used everything in the box, what could be missing --

Oh, of course! How could you forget!?

"It's missing an angel on top!" You pointed out, walking over to the Christmas box and rummaging around.

After a while of digging and loud crashing noises consisting of you throwing out whatever you thought could also be added, you found a dusty china angel missing a hand.

"Agh, this won't do." You scolded yourself. "We'll have to go with a star instead. I'll have to cut one out later."

"Cut one out? How are you going to cut a star out of the sky?" Childe asked with a bewildered expression.

"They mean they'll cut one out of paper you damn idiot." Scaramouche glared out of the corner of his eye.

"I often see the Children of the Hearth doing something similar when I pass by..." Signora thought to herself out loud, leaning on one of the arms of the sofa.

"Yes, the children love cutting out different shapes and animals. It just so happens stars are one of the easiest things to make." Arlecchino nodded in agreement.

If it's so damn easy, why don't you do it for me?? You grumbled with an angry grin. It took you a few days to learn how to cut a good looking star out of paper due to your clutzy fingers, how dare they call it 'easy' in front of you!

"Hm? Why do you look angry at me?"

"No reason." You answered her, sharply turning your head away from her tilted one. "Do I even have any paper left? Ugh, I might have to use lined paper and paint it using gold nail varnish if push comes to shove."

"Absolutely not." Sandrone interrupted you. "That sounds messy and unnecessarily more difficult than if you just bought yellow card."

"And where do you propose I get this yellow card? Out of my arse?"

"No." She looked repulsed. "The shop? I saw some in an isle."

"When and why did you go into the corner shop?" You caressed your head, sighing when hearing her solution.

"That's unimportant."

"Sure it is. Anyway, I need to start thinking about how I'm going to cook Christmas dinner--"

"Oh no you don't." Scaramouche interrupted you with a cold voice. "The last time you cooked a genuine meal that didn't include those 'instant noodles', you poisoned everyone who has an organic stomach."

"No way, the Balladeer cares enough about me to not want to see me bedridden again?" Childe gushed with a chuffed smile.

"That's not important!" You raised your voice with flushed cheeks. "How did you know that what I cooked was 'instant' noodles? I never told you that!"

"I asked a staff member in the shop down the street when I saw the exact same package for sale in one of the pasta isles."

"Oh my god, how many of you have been in that damn shop without me!?"

The room stayed silent, some looking away with a cringe whilst others looked at you with unbothered faces.

“Do I count? I’ve never left the house.” Capitano raised his hand innocently.

"Unbelievable." You cried to yourself dramatically.

"I can't believe he's still fiddling." Pulcinella sighed with judging eyes, watching the banker radically move around the tree mumbling to himself like a robot given an impossible task.

"So this is what happens when you don't give him something to do after a long period of time. Lesson learnt." Pierro sweated, coughing into a clenched fist with shut eyes.

"It's not my fault." He turned to the group with hysterical eyes, every so often one twitching. Considering his eyes are always closed, you’re impressed that his mania has managed to do the impossible. "The Decider won't let me do one of the things I'm best at, manipulating an economy. Denying me access to undermining this country's government is making me go mad!"

"What a lunatic." You ignored him, eyeing his antics as nothing more than a regular occurrence at this point.

"So, we're up for cutting a star for the tree then?" You turned back to the group.

"It's your decision and your tree, so of course." Signora shrugged.

"I'm baaaack!~" Columbina burst through the door like a canary, singing with a pep in her step.

She stopped when she saw Pantalone running around the tree, her energy from earlier vanishing as fast as a bird when hearing a gunshot.

"Erm... It's not what it looks like." He turned around slowly, feeling her menacing and dangerous energy piercing his back.

He put his hands in the air, his smile shaking in fear.

"It better not be what it looks like." Her smile contrasted his own. "Because it seems you've been touching something I specifically warned all not to touch.~"

"He's dead, he's actually dead." Childe commented on the sidelines.

"Amen."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Sandrone left to go get yellow card whilst Columbina forced you to tear down the Christmas tree and start decorating it from scratch. She said it was a punishment for you also, due to letting him rearrange it despite hearing her warning. What bullshit, she just couldn't be bothered to do it again. Anyway, Capitano helped you hold the christmas tree up so you could wrap the tinsel around it without trouble. What a nice guy… even though he technically isn’t helping you with what counts most.

"I don't understand why we're cutting out stars. Can't we just use me as the angel?" Columbina giggled to herself.

"No, that would be weird." You frowned at her. "What I don't understand is why everyone is cutting stars with me. Didn't the majority of you say this is going to be boring? Do something else!"

"The 'something else' you're talking about was also boring." Scaramouche picked up his pair of scissors, tracing his finger on the sharp side.

“I’d much rather cut something up than count how many particles are in a cloud.”

“What does that even mean!?”

“Anyway,” Dottore coughed with an irritated stretching smile. “I propose we make this a competition.”

“Of all the childish suggestions–” Arlecchino was cut off.

“I agree, I agree!” Columbina nodded with a happy smile. “It can’t be too hard, maybe we should have a reward for who wins the competition?”

“Although I find the idea of a competition to be senseless, a reward does sound quite… boosting.” Pantalone thought out loud, a greedy smile on his lips.

“This is not happening.” You sighed to yourself, head planted onto the table with exasperation radiating off of your slumped form.

“But what reward could we put on offer? I’m not against competition, heck, I encourage it! But what could we all fight for which would allow us to fight at our strongest the whole time?” Childe leaned against his chair.

The Harbingers thought to themselves, the room erupting in silence with the occasional cough or sniff. All of a sudden, their heads turned and looked at you. Feeling their gazes burning into you, you looked up from the table to see them expectantly eyeing you.

“Ohhh no. No way in whatever thoughts you’re all sharing am I getting involved in this. I’m not becoming some trophy you can flaunt for the rest of the evening.” You denied them.

“But you’re the perfect solution!” Childe playfully pouted.

“Quit torturing them, Childe.” Signora scolded the young ginger. “I propose this; let whoever wins ask The Decider one question. That question can be related to anything, the future or the past.”

“Hmm, but how would we know whether The Decider wouldn’t lie to us?” Dottore suggested.

“I’m staying out of this one.” Pulcinella put his hands in the air, leaving the room. “You youngsters go have fun, I’ll sit this one out.”

“Rooster, I would suggest staying to supervi–”

“So you can go back to that dirty office you keep closing yourself in to work? No thank you, I shall handle your paperwork today. You supervise this time.” He gave the director a harsh glare, making sure to purposefully hit him with his walking stick before walking away.

“Sometimes I can’t tell whether the Rooster is secretly a teenage girl or is just simply strange…” Pierro muttered to himself. Sighing.

“How about both, mixed in with the fact that he’s a psycho with more control issues than you think.”

“Hm? You think even more than the Regrator?”

“Deffo.” You clicked your tongue. “He just hides it because he’s a champ like that.”

“Don’t change focus!” Scaramouche raised his voice. “I order you to answer me. You will tell the truth to the victor of the contest, no?”

“Hold on, didn’t we agree to ask our own questions once we deliver them to the Tsaritsa?” Childe questioned.

“That was just to get you to not hound The Decider back when we first found them.”

“Fine.” You agreed with an eye roll, secretly crossing your fingers behind your back like a five year old. You’ll probably just make something up that sounds accurate when the winner asks their question. You’re betting that Sandrone will win this though, this kind of has something to do with her job after all.

“It’s decided then!” Columbina clapped in delight. “The Decider and The Director will be our judges. We’ll work for 10 minutes to create a star suitable to be put on the tree, then will be judged to see who has the best!”

“This is not gonna go well…” You said, trying your best to cover the shaky smile on your face. This is the best! You’ll just pick someone who won’t ask a question you don’t mind answering! Thank you Columbina for giving you this chance.

“You’re telling me!” Pulcinella shouted from the other room, sarcasm oozing like tar glooping down a slope.

“Count us down, count us down!” Columbina couldn’t contain her excitement, her body practically vibrating.

“Alright, alright… Ugh, I regret this… On your marks, get set, cut!”

“Seriously? ‘Cut’?” Pierro turned to you.

“What was I supposed to say!?”

The Harbingers sat at the table immediately started cutting, the sound of card shredding and small pieces emitting everywhere. Guess who’s going to have to clean that up? You thought with a frown, watching card pile up in the small crevasses in your carpet.

Looking around at the Harbinger’s cutting paper, you realise one was just sitting there watching the others work.

“Uhh, Capitano? Aren’t you going to begin?” You asked him.

“No.” His deep voice answered in return. “I am not going to join this display, no matter how entertaining it will be for you. Firstly, my fingers won’t fit in the holes of the scissors. And secondly, I have no question to ask you so entering just for victory would be pointless.”

“Brother, your fingers can’t be that big.” You deadpanned, letting your mind wander a bit too far with the thought.

He simply crossed his arms and continued to watch the others, ignoring you from then on. Oh well, he’s not interfering or arguing back like a child so you’ll let it happen. Besides, it looks like he quite likes watching so it’s the least you could do.

Pierro put an arm on your shoulder, getting your attention. You turned to make eye-contact and saw him hesitating in what to say to you.

“Do you need a defibrillator? You look like you’re having a seizure.”

“Who do you think is going to make the best star?” He said after, not registering your insult you said a few seconds prior.

“Wow. Did it really take you that long to think of what to say to me?”

“Quiet.” He warned you.

“Hmm… Who do I think is going to win?” You mumbled out loud, pretending to give it some thought. “Screw it, I’m not going to pretend. Sandrone’s going to make the best one because she does this kind of thing as a job.”

“Hah!” She guffawed after hearing your predictions, continuing her cutting with a content smile.

“Buuuut, that’s not what makes a star special. It isn’t just perfection, but passion and hope. I want to see how unique some people will make it… within reason of course.”

“I wasn’t expecting such an intelligent reply.” Pierro sweated. “Here I was, ready to scold you.”

“It’s like that’s all you can ever bloody think about when it comes to me.” You deadpanned.

“You give me no choice half of the time.” He sighed with a shaking head. “Your choices are often questionable and must be corrected. Would you rather have a physical punishment instead?”

Is this guy nuts?

“No… No, I would not.”

“That's what I thought.” He turned to look at the competition.

“Decider, help me out here.” Scaramouche clicked his fingers, beckoning you like an old woman would to her juvenile cat.

“Do I look like your pet?” You recoiled in disgust.

“I’ll let you leave the house to go to that dumb park you like if you help me right now.”

“I’m on my way!” You ran over to his side, peering down to see the mess of a star he’s created. It’s not bad at all, it’s actually your style - you like it a lot! What on earth could he need help for?

When you peered down to his design, you felt a cold unnatural hand grasp the side of your head and pull it closer to his face.

“Tell me how you like them.” He whispered. “Would you rather me add more detail or remove it? And don’t lie to me or I’ll kill you.”

“Pierro, The Balladeer is cheating! He’s bribing The Decider!” Sandrone pushed her chair back and stood up dramatically, pointing her scissors at the offender.

“Hey, no fair!” Childe whined. “If he gets to bribe them, let me bribe them too!”

“If anyone is to bribe the Decider, it should be me. I am the richest man in Teyvat after all.” Pantalone shrugged whilst lazily cutting.

“Correction: Ningguang is the richest in terms of all. You only count as the richest when it comes to being a man.” You pointed out. “And besides, I would never take your dirty money.”

Piero coughed loudly to quieten everyone down, all in the room turning to him like a deer in headlights. He waited until everyone stopped complaining and then spoke.

“Do continue with your cutting, you have less than a minute left.” He gestured to the timer. “And no bribery. The first to test my patience and even attempt to do so will be put under experimentation during the rest of our stay here and our return.”

“Oh, by all means, bribe away!” Dottore laughed at the Harbinger’s around him, silently cutting.

Huh? Less than a minute left? But when you last looked at the time they had at least 8 minutes left. You checked the timer once more, and found fat greasy fingerprints on buttons that weren’t there prior. You turned to the old man with an incredulous face, mouth wide open. He caught your staring, and put a finger on his lips with a small almost unnoticeable smile.

Pierro, you cheeky bastard. I love you for this.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The stars were laid out on the dining table, each Harbinger stood behind their own creations. Sadly but also un-sadly, some Harbingers were too slow and couldn’t finish their star in time. By some, you mean Pantalone and surprisingly Sandrone.

“I’m not going to hear the end of this.” Sandrone had her face buried in her hands, looking at her creation with malice. “In defence, I value time to craft perfection. Announcing a set time dampens my methods and results in mechanics such as this one. Ugh, what a waste!” She threw the craft off of the table, the star unravelling itself immediately.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.” You sarcastically waved at her embarrassment. “And you, Pantalone? What’s your excuse?”

“The scissors you gave me were tampered with! I call for–”

“So I’m the problem? Okay, whatever…”

You walked down the table, looking at each star neutrally then nodding and moving onto the next. Now, you’re not an expert, but did they really think you wouldn’t notice? They all look the exact same! They all look like copied versions of Scaramouche’s design! When watching him try to bribe you, they must have thought you liked his design the best and copied him to have a fair chance. Well, they’re wrong! You’re just going to pick the person who will give you the least trouble when answering their question, jokes on them!

…That was your original plan. After looking at all the stars, you felt a new motivation when noticing one person didn’t copy and stuck to their own principles. Also they may or may not be the only person to not take this seriously and you want to mess with the others a little bit. Pierro will agree with you, he’s the type to disregard any copycats so he won’t have trouble with your choice at all.

“Okay, I’ve decided on my winner.” You announced, stepping back to view the expectant Harbingers.

“Arlecchino, you win.”

“WHAT!?”

“But why?” She asked, not looking surprised or pleased. “I could care less about an answer to a question, nor do I care about winning this childish competition.”

“That’s actually why I picked you. And because your star is an original design - sorry Scara, but uhh, you might have won if the others didn’t copy.”

“Of course.” He grumbled, glaring at the Harbingers staring at him. “One day, I’m going to murder all of you fools and sell your parts to people far worse than Dottore! I’ll get back at all of you for ruining my chances!”

“Anyway,” You tuned his violent voice out. “Yeah, you’re the winner. Pierro, what do you think?”

“...I agree.” He said in a quieter tone. “Now, I will be returning to my office to continue what’s left of my work… and review what The Rooster has already completed.”

As he was walking away, you turned back to notice the majority of Harbingers had walked away to go back to what they were doing prior, bored after realising they wouldn't be able to profit with staying around for longer.

“Do I get to ask my question now?” Arlecchino tapped her elbow impatiently with folded arms.

“So you do want the reward?”

“Despite it not being my intention when joining, I would indeed like something that was promised. Whether it be an accident or a purposeful decision.”

“Okay, fine. Ask away then.” You shrugged.

“As you must already be aware, the majority of my Children from the Hearth hail from Fontaine, the nation of justice. I won’t lie to you, I’m beginning to grow increasingly concerned with the prophecy where–”

“--where the whole nation will be flooded and all the people will be killed except the archon? Yeah, I know of it. Your point?” You finished her explanation, already having an idea of where the conversation was heading.

“Then you will understand I care deeply about the future of my children. Tell me, will I succeed in convincing the Tsaritsa to visit Fontaine to retrieve the Gnosis in place of Rosalyne?”

“Of course you’d use the question to ask about your ‘precious children’.” Scaramouche mocked. “Just how idiotic can you be?? This is your chance to ask about the future!”

You gave a harsh glare with icy eyes in his direction before sighing, a smile on your face. “Yeah.”

“Hm? You have to give a higher detailed response to that.”

“You go to Fontaine, Childe coincidentally also there for his own personal motivations which may or may not be important. The whole time you’re there, you’re investigating Furina and the prophecy. Long story short, that I WILL NOT be elaborating, the prophecy is sorted and the people are saved. This includes the children in the House of the Hearth.” You explained, pleased with the question she asked you and your own personal answer. Wow, you can even impress yourself sometimes!

“Excellent.” She sighed in relief, her face unchanging. “Thank you. But I do have to ask, is the Hydro Archon really working to prevent the flood?”

“That’s two questions. But fine,” You shrugged. “You can trust her. Everything is proceeding to the plan, although interrogation and suspicion do indeed accelerate it to completion.” You thought out loud, noticing her questioning gaze and smiling deeper.

“That’s enough serious stuff. When are we going to discuss presents? Now that the tree is up we need to put the presents under it!”

“Uh… We’re flat-out poor. We can’t afford presents.” Childe shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to accept my love as a present instead!”

“Ew, what are you, five? Wait… Don’t come over here! Not after saying something like that!” You panicked, watching him run over to you at full speed and choosing to run away.

“Scaramouche you know how you said you’d take me to the park? I’m cashing in that favour right now!”

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henrythehorse · 2 days ago

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i sometimes think the notion that john's feelings for paul were so volatile they seemed to change from minute to minute is a bit overblown—until i remember his september 1980 newsweek interview where he manages to showcase every emotion possible in a single quote when asked about paul.

INT: Is there animosity?

JOHN: Why should there be? I don't have any animosity for him. I don't even think about him unless somebody brings him up. Or if some song comes out or something happens, you know, they're in the newspaper. I don't know why everyone doesn't just leave him alone — I haven't really seen him in ten years. I can talk about him forever because I know all about him, but you see, there's nothing much to say.

and there's also this quote from the same interview:

INT: In a recent interview McCartney said that he thought you and Yoko had done everything you'd always wanted to do — except one ... be yourselves.

JOHN: Paul didn't know what the fuck I was doing and he had to come up with something. He was as curious as everybody else. WHAT ARE THEY DOING THERE? WHAT DO THEY DO ALL THE TIME? I really don't know anything about how he lives, except what I read in the papers. It's been ten years since I really communicated with him. Shearing sheep and making lots of money — that's what the handouts say. I don't believe handouts about any artist.

it’s almost as if he’s constantly switching between talking about two different versions of paul: the one he knew and loved, and this total stranger that people won’t stop asking him about. i believe this is why he seems to have a sudden surge of possessiveness while talking about paul in the first quote, but then retracts and says, 'there’s nothing much to say,' because the version of paul he could talk about forever exists only in his memories.

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #john and paul #mclennon #these quotes make me really sad so i had to share

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graveyardhorror · 2 days ago

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౨ৎ ARCANE JINX dating!headcanons²

misc. masterlist

-teaching you self defence with weapons made by her of course, if you already know how to fight and have your own weapons of choice she will simply give them a makeover or design a better and improved (her words) version of them

-she likes when you read to her, talk about your day, just your voice in general; it might look like she's not listening and just examining your face but trust that she is doing both at the same time lol

-will always wake you up with a big fat and loud kiss on your cheek, it's one of her love languages to give you wet kisses when you least expect them mostly when you're sleeping

-finding different ways to pass time; attempting realistic portraits of each other that results in you two laughing at how bad they are, playing 'don't drop the grenade' where you start off close to each other and eventually you're across the room trying not to let it drop to the ground

-brainstorming ideas for her new gadgets and how to improve her current weapon designs, the 'blueprints' honestly look like a toddler attempted to draw a gun without ever seeing one but it's the thought that counts?

-dating her means that you two now share everything; clothes and shoes if you're the same/similar size, drinks, snacks, food, etc; she will take sips from your drinks and bites from your food

-if you walk by her she will either slap your butt as hard as she can or put her foot out so that you trip and fall into her arms, she doesn't do it with any ill intentions she just wants to have her "you ladies alright?" moment with you

-says she's a good flirt but only uses old funny pick up lines from ten years ago and doesn't know what to say/do when you actually start flirting back

dividers by mikeykuns

#wattpad #x reader #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane headcanons #arcane jinx #jinx #jinx x reader #jinx league of legends #league of legends #jinx preferences #jinx headcanons #preferences #headcanons

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norrisleclercf1 · 2 days ago

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Day 15 of 25 Days of Christmas: Roasting S'mores together

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Rating: PG

Words: 792

Roasting s'mores with Carlos Sainz would be an unforgettable experience filled with laughter, racing stories, and delicious treats. Picture a cold winter evening with the sun setting in the background, casting a golden hue over a cozy backyard. The air is filled with the sweet scent of chocolate and the smoky aroma of toasted marshmallows, creating the perfect backdrop for a night of fun and camaraderie.

As the fire crackles, everyone first notices Carlos's infectious smile. He's on earth, making everyone feel comfortable around him. As you settle in, you can't help but feel excited, wondering what it's like to be this carefree, especially after the season he just had. Yet he was acting like nothing was to change. You wanted to talk to him about it, but Carlos was not keen on the idea, keeping those thoughts away from you.

Dressed casually, Carlos taught you how to roast s'mores today, a tradition he always cherished with his father during their camping trips. As you learn the art of roasting the perfect marshmallow, you can't help but feel inspired by Carlos's patience and love for teaching. He is a master at his craft, and you are a willing student eager to absorb his wisdom.

As the flames dance, he hands you a skewer, guiding you on how to roast the marshmallow to perfection. "You d "n't don't rush it," he says, demonstrating a slow rotation of the marshmallow over the fire. "If you" go too fast, it'll be on the outside and still be cold on the inside; timing is everything." Here "are some tips on finding the sweet spot of the fire to achieve that ideal golden-brown color—something that resonates deeply with anyone who understands the importance of timing, whether it's iit'smores'moreseed.

You start roasting your marshmallow, feeling the heat of the fire and watching it slowly transform. Carlos often makes a light-hearted joke about attempting to make s'mores at a team event but ends with a gooey mess. It's great to see how he embraces the fun side of life, even when balancing the pressure of what is soon to happen. "Carlos, you can talk about it, you know," You whisper softly, trying to get him to open up about what has happened.

As the marshmallow slowly caramelizes, Carlos starts sharing his favorite racing moments. He talks about his early days in karting, that thrilling first taste of speed, and the determination it took to reach F1. You can see the passion in his eyes as he reminisces, recounting stories of pivotal races and friendships formed within the paddock. This season was different; he was going from the team everyone dreamed of to racing to the one people laughed at, but he didn't care; he just wanted to run and take the team to great things. If anyone could do it, you knew it would be Carlos.

Finally, the moment arrives: you've achieved that perfect golden-brown marshmallow and smiles, flashing a thumbs-up and encouraging you to layer it between graham crackers and chocolate. "The key is balancing the melty marshmallow with the chocolate," he advises. "Too much marshmallow, and it spills everywhere. Too little, and you miss out on that gooey goodness!"

Building your s'more feels like a team exercise. Each person carefully layers their sweet creation while swapping stories and laughter. One person opts for a twist on the classic version, adding a slice of peanut butter cup to his s'more instead of traditional chocolate. You can't help but admire his creativity and feel a sense of inclusion in this shared experience.

As you both take that first delicious bite, the gooey marshmallow and melted chocolate ooze together perfectly, causing everyone to sigh in delight. The sweet symphony of flavors dances on your palate as Carlos nods approvingly, recalling how constructing the perfect s'more parallels carving an ideal racing line on the track. You feel indulged, savoring every moment of this delightful experience.

With the fire crackling and beginning to twinkle above, the night unfolds, filled with sizzling conversations about nothing and everything: what you two would do for the Holidays and how you would spend the time together.

As the evening winds down and you both finish your s'mores, the conversation shifts to the future. He talks about his aspirations and what he hopes to achieve. His words have a deep passion and a commitment to excelling on the track and inspiring the next generation.

The night concludes with the glow of the fire, beautiful memories captured under the stars, and the shared laughter of roasting s'mores with a racing star. You leave the evening feeling excitement and inspiration, influenced by Carlos's genuine s'mores and love for the sport and perhaps a newfound appreciation for the delicate balance.

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goddessinnerglow · 2 days ago

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Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 24

Setting Up Progress Tracking Systems

Hey Goddesses! After exploring personal style yesterday, let's talk about something that can really amplify our growth journey, tracking our progress. But don't worry, we're not going to turn this into a complicated spreadsheet situation (unless that's your thing!).

That satisfying feeling when you can actually see how far you've come? That's what we're aiming for. Let's create a tracking system that feels natural and motivating, not like another chore on your to-do list.

Think about it, we've covered everything from confidence to personal style in this series, and you've probably made more progress than you realize. That's exactly why tracking matters, it helps us celebrate those wins we might otherwise miss.

Let's explore some simple but effective ways to track your growth:

The "One Line a Day" Method:

Keep a small notebook or digital note where you write just one line about your progress each day. It could be anything – "Spoke up in meeting today" or "Chose outfit that felt truly me." Simple, quick, but powerful when you look back.

Visual Progress Maps:

Create a simple chart or calendar where you mark days you took action toward your goals. Use different colors or symbols for different types of progress. Seeing those marks add up over time is incredibly motivating.

The Weekly Check-in:

Set aside 10 minutes every Sunday (or any day that works for you) to reflect on three things:

What went well this week?

What did I learn?

What do I want to focus on next week?

The Progress Photo Approach:

Not just for fitness goals! Take photos of your workspace as you organize it, screenshot positive feedback you receive, or document other visible signs of growth. Create an album called "Growth Journey 2025" on your phone.

Voice Memos:

Sometimes writing feels like too much. Try recording quick voice notes about your progress. "Hey future me, today I finally..." These can be incredibly powerful to listen back to.

Don't Forget these key principles:

Track what matters to you, not what others measure

Make it easy enough to stick with

Focus on progress, not perfection

Include both tangible and intangible wins

Keep it flexible, adjust your system as needed

Quick tip:

Link your tracking to something you already do daily. Maybe you check your progress while having your morning coffee or before your evening skincare routine (remember our self-care conversation?).

Today's Challenge:

Take 5 minutes to write down where you are now in any area you want to track. This becomes your baseline. In a month, you'll be amazed at the changes you notice.

See you tomorrow for Day 25! Remember, you can't manage what you don't measure, but keep it simple enough to stick with.

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.

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predacon-starfury · 1 day ago

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Allow me to make a rephrase suggestion here:

"I think we should see more art of Human Dust looking older than he is, tired af, and greasy/dirty".

Please don't attack other people's preferences for how they want to draw/design a character/humanization just because it doesn't fit your own preferences. There's been too much growth online of people getting this polarized concept of "if it's not how I like it then it's bad". Both can coexist! You can make awareness of a different style or design without dragging down a different one at the same time, it doesn't benefit anyone and it can feel like an attack on artists who prefer to draw Dust that way, and they're just doing it for fun, just like you! We can all appreciate our own preferences for how we want a humanized version of a character or a redesign to look without getting hostile or saying "your way of doing it is WRONG you should do it my way because it's BETTER".

I like your idea, but I think you can word it a bit better without actively slamming a "stereotypically attractive" version. Both are perfectly valid in their own right. People can enjoy both!

Human Dust should NOT be a clean shaven young looking anime boy that looks like he's showered in the last week

Make him look older than he is, tired af, and dirty ‼️

Man's hair is GREASY AS FUCK

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vo-kopen · 2 days ago

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You know what makes little sense? I love the idea of alternate universes, so I have a real fondness for the what if comics. I also have yet to read a single what if I liked, or even read a synopsis of one I liked. Same with the marvel tv show, I only watched the first three episodes of season one because I didn’t care about the other premises, and the first two did not click, while the third was good but was resolved poorly later in the season. (Where the frick did the Chitauri come from? Loki’s occupation force was made of Asgardians) There are a few from season two I meant to see, such as the 80s Avengers team, but I just haven’t been able to bring myself to watch it. And the what if novels that came out recently just don’t grab me.

The classic what if that came closest to clicking with me is the one where Steve Rogets was unfrozen decades later and in the meantime the fifties Cap pushed America further into authoritarianism. It’s well done and very relevant, but it’s a struggle to read because of how dark and “real” it is. It’s just “oof.”

It’s just funny that I like the genre and the concept of what if, but don’t actually like any of the specific ones. The recent mini series were particularly unappealing to me, the first was just “what if some decades old marvel arcs went in a darker direction,” so it’s not exactly relevant to me as a reader who started in the 2010s, and based on the issue I read the scenarios are just overwhelmingly grim. Meanwhile the second most recent mini was just “what if *popular marvel superhero* became Venom instead of Brock,” and the third is coming out now and my suspicions is it’s just “what if Galactus made *popular marvel superhero* his Herald.” Those last two minis feel especially lacking in depth. Their premise is just “what if big IP was a different IP.” And maybe I am unfair, I didn’t read either mini, but the core concept utterly failed to grab me.

Again, I think what ifs are interested, but like no canon ones interest me. Maybe it’s because I started out reading Avengers Academy, I now get drawn to “unimportant” characters, and they aren’t the ones who get to star in what ifs.

And then you get the Spiderverse and Venomverse anthologies which sometimes have actually compelling premises (makes sense, anthologies are always going to have some hits) but they only are setups to big events where the multiverses is threatened and those new versions of characters are almost guaranteed to get murdered. It’s like, I just want a fun little what if anthology where the fate of reality is not at stake, and instead the books discuss “what if this character’s life went differently?”

Like “what if Finesse, Mettle, and Haxmat did sacrifice themselves to take out two of the Worthy,” or “what if Laura and Jeanne’s falling out got more violent?” Again with the Avengers Academy

Anyway it’s just funny that I allegedly like what ifs, but I only like them in theory not in practice.

@thefingerfuckingfemalefury @nitpickrider @majingojira @akirakan how about y’all? Read any what ifs that clicked with you?

#what if #marvel #alternate universe #alternate history #exiles

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watercolorsam-arts · 2 days ago

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Saw Sonic 3 tonight…. Holy Shit

I have a lot of thoughts, and a lot are really good, I had a blast watching it and I will be going to see it again.

I do however have one “complaint” I guess? Spoilers under break

I need to talk about Maria. But I want to start my little rant with *I did not dislike how Maria was handled in the movie* I quite enjoyed everything she was in. As a stand alone story in the movies, it was awesome (and personally seeing the movies as a sort of au makes the most sense for me). But I want to talk about how one character decision changed a significant amount of Maria and Shadow’s story. (Among other thoughts and things I noticed)

Maria was not explicitly stated to be sick,

It actually seems like she wasn’t sick at all.

Which I feel takes away a lot from Shadow’s creation/discovery.

Shadow in the games was created to be a cure for Maria’s N.I.D.S (Neuro-Immune Disorder Syndrome) his excess chaos energy was a byproduct of being created using Black Arms dna. He was never meant to be a weapon, he was meant to heal.

Maria cared for Shadow beyond just “this will cure me” she and Gerald saw him as himself. He might have been just a cure to Gerald at first, but Maria saw Shadow, not a weapon, or a cure, or an alien, she saw Shadow.

G.U.N saw a weapon, which is why they had to take him, and cut down anyone in their way.

By removing Maria’s sickness, you don’t have any reason for the Ark to exist, and you also don’t need to “create” Shadow. Shadow had to be dropped into the story (kinda literally as he fell from the sky) for him to have a reason to be there.

Maira and Shadow’s relationship in the movie doesn’t have quite the same impact. It even feels kind of… generic? I guess? That the “child” character doesn’t see the “monster/weapon” as one and befriends them. Maria being there isn’t nearly as justified as in the games. “Her grandfather brings her everywhere” and I get why, but still. Even if there was one line of “she gets sick easy, so the professor wants to keep an eye on her.” Instead of just “yeah they go everywhere together”. (Once again, I didn’t hate the version of their relationship in the movie, this is just a comparison to the games)

Maria not being off world also takes away from Shadow’s motivations. Maria wanted to see the world, she wanted to meet the people, and experience everything! She cared so much about a place that would cause her harm just by existing there. No matter what happened, she believed with all her heart that the people of earth deserved to live life to the fullest, even if she couldn’t. So when Shadow gets reminded that he was meant to protect and heal, he chooses to save the world Maria cared so much about.

Movie Maria’s death feels like she was caught in the crossfire for no reason, which, in its own way, has a big impact on Shadow’s arc. She had so much life to live, she was his sister, she didn’t have to die, which fueled Shadow’s hate.

Movie Shadow’s motivations for saving the day are different from game Shadow’s. His motivation is fueled by hate, and hurt, and by love. He hesitates when he hurts Tom after mistaking him for the General. He hurts watching Sonic live a similar horror to what he did. Just like Sonic has to learn, no one wins with revenge, everyone just keeps getting hurt, and he might have wanted to hurt them, make them pay for what they did, he doesn’t want to hurt. He still chooses to heal, and to protect. Maria haunts him in the way a dead star still shines for us, guiding him even though she’s gone, to show love instead of hate and hurt.

They’re both executed phenomenally, and both work in their respective stories, personally, I prefer how the game handled it, but that’s just me. And it’s so interesting to see how different yet similar the two are. The main take away is that all movie Shadow knew was that he was a weapon and chose to actively go against that, while game Shadow knew he could heal as well as hurt.

I will forever cry over the “they’re children!” Line, because… yeah… Shadow and Maria were children, who should have never gone through what they did, I need to hug them and put them back in their blanket fort with a new movie and some snacks.

And this is less of a movie/game comparison, but more so the representation of Maria’s illness. A lot of the time, we see Maria as full of life and energy, but various media like Gerald’s journal, dark beginnings, and the Shadow Campaign in generation has told us she doesn’t always have it that good. She has days where she can barely move, or she’ll need a mobility aid, or she’ll be incredibly sick even with the Arks gravity and atmosphere. Chronic illness’ don’t always impact you the same every day, but you’re still ill, even if you can’t see it, and Maria has become pretty good representation for that, which makes me kinda sad that it was dropped for the movie.

(I feel like my ramblings don’t make sense towards the end? So I think it’s a bit more just, thoughts about the movie and the game. Thanks for reading this far btw :) )

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic movie 3 #sonic movie spoilers #shadow and maria #shadow the hedgehog #maria robotnik #rambles #semi connected thoughts #hey want to see how hard I can cry?

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littlespacereader · 2 days ago

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Hello! first time doing this, so please forgive me. (kinda scared, so anon) I really love your Doctor Who agere fics! they make me so happy!

I'd love a CG!Eleventh Doctor and GN Little Reader first meeting, please.

Reader playing in the snow around the Tardis, at night so they can play while regressed (Tardis is in a park?idk its somewhere with snow), it's hours later when the Doctor comes out and sees them playing, the two talk, and he realizes they're a Little and takes them back to the Tardis to get warm bc they could get sick if they stay out, no sick littles on the doctor's watch! and have hot coca! or alien version of hot coca! please

sorry if this is too much for a request.

almost forgot! if you do write, please no animal themed nicknames (e.g. Cub, Bunny, etc) or the nicknames Dolly/Babydoll (Doll is ok tho) and no diapers please.

I'm very thankful to be able to send an agere request, so thank you so much! Sending plushies and good vibes!

Merry Christmas Eve or Merry Christmas Everyone!!💚❤️

Thank you to this beautiful request! I loved it so much I wanted to make it my surprise Christmas Eve story!!

I love the request!! I haven’t written the 11th Doctor in a hot minute so this was a treat!! I love an over protective Caregiver, but the Doctor being over protective? *Chef kiss*

I hope you enjoy this story! And I hope everyone is having an amazing Christmas Eve or Christmas Day today!! Love you guys!!❤️💚❤️💚

The Blue Box in the Park💙

Caregiver! 11th Doctor & GN! Little Reader (SFW!)

Tags- hand holding, cuddles, forehead kisses, praise, he takes over as your new cg, first time in the tardis, Christmas fluff

It’s the first day of snow! Well…correction, it’s the first night of snow. It’s was supposed to snow earlier today but now it’s the evening, the sun is setting and now it finally decides to snow.

It’s Christmas Eve and most are spending the holiday at home with their families. And truth is, I wish I was doing the same. But my flight got canceled going home to see family.

No matter! Snow is snow, and my little side has been waiting all day for this! So I grab my coat, gloves, hat and scarf and take off to the local park! I usually go at this time anyway, letting me and my regression to have the park to myself.

I walk through the snowy weather, making my way to the park in town. But…something’s different… When did they put a police box in the outside the entrance of the park? I mean, that’s probably a good idea. You never know who’s walking around.

I pause outside of it, looking at the blue box with wonder. Where did it come from? I’m usually here almost every day. Did it just appear? Did they just install it?

I shrug, turning to open the gate of the park and have fun! There’s so much to do! Make a snowman! Make snow angels! Run around!

And that’s exactly what I get started doing. I put my backpack down on a bench and starts running around playing. My giggles fill the air as I play in the snow! First running around, then making a snowman!

One ball rolled up, then another and another for his head. Perfect! Some stones for his eyes and a carrot for his nose. There!

I step back and admire my work. But wait a minute! Where’s his hat? I didn’t bring an extra… I take my hat off and put it on the snowman. There, now he has a hat.

But maybe he could use a scarf too? So I took mine off and gave it to him as well. Perfect! Now he’s warm and toasty. And I’m…I’m a little cold, but that’s okay!

Last but not least snow angels! I lay back in the snow and move my legs and arms back and forth making a nice big Angel.

With my Angel done I lay back and close my eyes letting the snow fall onto me. It’s been fun playing in the snow, but now it was starting to get cold and dark. I should probably start getting ready to head back…

I hear snow crunching in the distance, then someone open the park gate. What I hear next, I don’t believe at first, “Little one, what are you doing out without a hat and scarf?”

I sit up and look at a man stands with his arms crossed, but a smirk on his face. I stare at him with a look of utter shock. How did he know? Who is he? Where did he come from?

“You’ll free to death in this weather. Aren’t you cold?” I nod my head in response, he’s right I am cold.

He drops his crossed arms and walks over to me, giving me a hand to help me up. “Did you forget to bring your winter gear?” He asks concerned.

I stand beside him, wrapping my arms around myself, “I gave it to the snowman.” I point over to where my snowman was.

“Brilliant snowman!” He takes my hand almost naturally and leads me over to it, “You’ve done a great job with the face and the arms! Marvelous!” He praises me on, turning and smiling back to me.

“But, our frozen friend here doesn’t need a hat like you do.” He goes to take my hat back but I stop him, “No he does! He needs it.” I whine.

“Alright, alright he needs it,” he sighs, but comes up with an idea.

“Actually I have an item of my own to add to your amazing snowman.” He takes an extra bow tie out of his jacket pocket and shows it to me. “Do you mind if I give your snowman a bow tie?”

I shake my head and smile, “He’d look lovely with it!”

The man smiles back, putting the bow tie on the snowman. “I always make sure to carry a backup bowtie on me just in case…There! Now he’s even cooler than before.”

We stand back and admire the snowman some more. He squeezes my hand, “While our frost friend here looks amazing, you need to be warmer. I’m sure your family or Caregiver is worried sick about you being out at this hour.”

“No,” I stop him, “I don’t have either this year. It’s just me.” I try to say normally but the disappointment in my voice gives away how I truly feel.

His face turns from its smile to a concerned and heartbroken frown. “Neither? Well that won’t do. Especially not on Christmas! Come on, you’re celebrating with me. Let’s get you inside with some blankets.” Again, he takes my hand in his leading me.

He grabs my backpack on the way, slinging it over his shoulder as we walk over to…the blue police box?

“You’re a police man?” I ask.

“No, I’m The Doctor.” He smiles back.

“A Doctor?”

“No, the Doctor. That’s my name: The Doctor.” He explains, “What’s your name little one?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, its lovely to meet you. But it’s too late and too cold for you to be out at this hour at such a young age.” He lightly chided, “Would you like to spend the holiday with me? I’ll make sure to take great care of you being a Caregiver myself.” He smiles.

I mean…how could I say no? He’s kind, and is naturally like a Caregiver without even trying. Plus there’s something about him, something so interesting. I mean, who calls themselves the Doctor?

“I’d love to.” I smile back.

“Great! Now let’s go inside and get warmed up.” He starts unlocking the police box.

I can’t help but giggle, “In there?”

“Hey! This is my home.”

“Would we both fit?” I giggle some more.

“You’d be surprised.” He adds with a wink and a smirk before he stepped into the box.

I stand outside for a moment, contemplating it. But there’s something about the bow tie wearing Doctor that intrigues me on and on.

So against all better judgement, I push the door open and enter the police box.

Immediately my jaw opens in awe as my feet moved into the box on their own accord. I stand by the entrance, in awe and utter disbelief.

The Doctor dusts the snow off his jacket, hanging it on a coat rack nearby before turning his attention to me.

“Can I help you take your coat off?” He ask, making sure I’m comfortable first. I just simply nod, trying to find the words to talk again.

He busies himself, unzipping my jacket and dusting the snow off of it while I still look around in fascination.

“It’s a box.”

“Un huh.” He replies.

“But it’s small out there.”

“Yup.”

“But it’s gigantic in here.”

“You are too smart.” He winks with a smirk.

I giggle, laughing in disbelief of what my eye were seeing. “How is this possible?”

He lights up seeing my enthusiasm, “It’s called a TARDIS. It’s a Time Machine and spaceship. But it’s also my home for the holidays.”

“It’s…it’s a Time Machine…and a…a spaceship?”

“That’s not what matters,” he takes my hand, leading me in. “What matters is getting you warm and cozy.”

He takes me up to the center console where there’s buttons, levels and all sorts of things. “Is this how you drive your spaceship Time Machine?”

“Yes! It’s a bit more complicated than driving. She kind of has a mind of her own.” He winks again.

With that we go up the stairs and down a hallway. “There’s a million different rooms in here from a bedroom, to a kitchen, to a library, a swimming pool, a swimming pool in a library, but for us I think we’ll enjoy it in here.”

We turn the corner and enter the first room on the right. Immediately I gasp. The room is perfect. The most picturesque Christmas living room.

A big tree in the corner, a fireplace in the center with a big rug in front of it, a couch and an arm chair with blankets and pillow galore. It’s perfect.

I walk in, taking in the scene while the Doctor stands in the doorframe confused. “This isn’t the swimming pool in the library.”

“No, it’s perfectly!!” I turn and quickly say. “Absolutely perfect!”

“I guess the Tardis created this room just for you.” He looks around himself.

“She can do that.”

“There isn’t much she can’t do.” He explains, “Come on, let’s get you all wrapped up and cozy.”

He leads me to the couch, seating me in the corner and grabbing the comfy and soft blanket from the back of it, wrapping me up like a burrito.

“There!” He kisses my forehead, “All snuggled up!”

“What about you?” I ask, untangling myself a bit.

“Me?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah, come snuggle.” I put my arms out to him, but he doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He snuggles close to me, wrapping the two of us in the soft blanket. “There we are. All settled now?” He asks getting a nod from me.

“Would you like me to read you a story?” He suggest.

I snuggle closer to him, resting my head against his shoulder, “Could you tell me a story instead? Tell me about yourself, your adventures in your Tardis.”

“It would be my honor.” He smiles back, “A long time ago, on a planet called Gallifrey…”

~~~

The TARDIS makes its little noises here and there but all is calm in the Time Machine spaceship. Outside the blue box has a light dusting of chilly snow, but inside is filled with warmth.

The two who had no one to spend the holiday with suddenly found themselves with the best company they could ever ask for. Two stranger becomes friends then something so much more, Caregiver and Little.

Twisting down the hallway and turning the corner to the first door on the right we find them in their Christmas living room.

The Doctor hold them, lightly rubbing their arm in a soothing manner while his Little one sleeps softly cuddled up against him.

He couldn’t understand why the Tardis has parked herself in the small park until he met Y/N, then it all made sense.

He had just lost Amy and Rory and was going to be spending his first Christmas alone, but the Tardis had other plans, finding him a Regressor who was hurting inside just as much as he was.

He promises a lot of things to himself, to take care of them, make them happy but more than anything to protect them.

The clock on the wall softly chimes on the new hour. It’s midnight, bringing with it Christmas Day. With another kiss to their forehead he whispers, “Merry Christmas Y/N.”

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