#it’s especially difficult for a more naïve person to play her because she’s naïve in some ways but not dumb

[mabelsguidetolife]

tumblr users are all “i love feral women!!!!” and then this happens

you are all fandom trash

[immobiliter]

okay so i wanted to preface this meta by reiterating that romantic shipping is absolutely not my priority for furina and that i don't ship any of the popular fanon ships out there for her, but i do want to elaborate a little on how much, if any, experience furina has in this area — especially as the fandom either tends to sexualise her ( which is funny to me because i would say she's one of the few adult female characters in genshin who isn't purposely dressed in a way to make her sexually appealing ), or infantilise her and furina is, frankly, neither of those things. she's not a child — her immaturity imo stems from the fact that, in focalors' words, when she separated her divinity and humanity she left behind "only a self that was as naive and bewildered as my past self on her first day as a human being." furina was like a newborn human but at the age of a young woman in her early 20s. she wasn't allowed to develop in the way that ordinary humans do in early life and therefore an inner child is trapped inside of her, explaining a lot of her immaturity.

but anyway i digress~ my simple answer to this is that furina has never had sex with another person, and i say this because i find it hard to believe that she could justify doing so while she is playing the role of a god. as it's noted in one of her character stories, furina would decline more intimate social events simply because "the greater the intimacy of her association with others, the more difficult it would be to conceal her identity." the way she plays her divine role is to create distance between her and the common people of fontaine — she is a god and therefore exists on an entirely different plane of existence to everyone else, and in making herself inaccessible in that way she protects herself from scrutiny. we also know from her story quest that she has always had difficulty maintaining close relationships for obvious reasons, so i would therefore argue that it's not a leap to assume that she has not had any relationships of a sexual or romantic nature in that time either. gods are to be marvelled at from afar, not individuals who ordinary humans can be intimate with.

however, this does not mean she is a stranger to sex as an idea or concept, she has simply cut off her own personal connection to this part of herself for the past five hundred years, that's all. historically speaking, theatre and sex have been entwined for hundreds of years and during the regency/victorian/revolutionary france era that fontaine seems to draw heavy influence from, actresses were often also sex workers. while that's not the case here, for furina, she has played numerous parts on the stage over centuries and in that time has almost certainly played the romantic lead. she has acted out what it is to be in love, she has acted out desire and longing and all of the complicated emotions associated with that. she also knows what it is to be looked at by an audience, and knows how to make herself appealing while on stage to ensure that she is looked at. off of the stage, she is primarily surrounded by melusines working at the palais and neuvillette who is mostly certainly not looking at her like that lmao. but just because she has not partaken in that sort of intimacy herself does not mean that you can label her naïve and innocent — again her purposeful abstinence is all part of her performance.

as a sidenote it's also interesting to talk about theatre and sex/gender in terms of furina because of the element of androgyny to her character design, and androgyny having been a part of theatre for generations. in her pneuma state ( which is how she appears throughout the AQ ), furina has longer hair and a lighter white / blue colour scheme with her white waistcoat and shorts, making her more typically feminine in appearance. her ousia state, which is how she appears in anything post AQ, has the shorter bob haircut and the black waistcoat and shorts ( and therefore seems to be the appearance she favours as her "true self" ), which is less typically feminine. again to draw on historical examples, female roles in shakespeare's plays were originally played by men, and it is not uncommon for young women to play male roles in a theatre show either ( drag is a thing in the theatre, it always has been ). the possibility that furina has not just played female roles but male roles in a show is definitely there and i certainly wouldn't rule it out. regardless of the gendered role she performs, getting furina on board with a play at all would be a huge deal for any theatre troupe. if she decides she finds the role of the young male character more appealing, nobody would dare argue with her lmao.

but again i'm digressing lmao. my point really is that furina has shut off access to that part of her that may genuinely desire sex/intimacy/connection — meaning that, in a situation where she does grow closer to another individual, it will take a lot of patience and trust for her to unlock that part of herself but it is there. and when furina finds it, i think she'd find it really cathartic and rewarding to actually get to explore it with somebody.

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

Expanding because the brain rot is strong these days...........

Clethra is like, a side character. Technically. And ze is part of a very silly duo.

Clethra's best friend is Ana; Ana is a bloody badass and had a pretty bad accident that both radicalised her and took her ability to walk. She has... She also has a bunch of History.

(don't have a properly coloured sketch yet)

Anyways, Ana and Clethra found each other almost immediately the very second Ana joined that very same resistance organisation. Clethra helped her come a bit further along accepting that she'll never be able to walk again; they both just. They take care of things that don't need proper legs to be done.

Both of them have the brightest and neatest hair because they sure do use their time to dye their hair.

Now, they also tend to get stuck with tasks like cooking (get a chair with wheels in there and most things are within reach even sitting). Ana can cook. Clethra has managed to burn soup before.

Clethra is the only one allowed to make jokes about Ana's wheelchair (she's sensitive on the subject obvsly), and Ana is the only allowed to call zir Cleth. She also keeps telling people what a sweetheart zir is and keeps getting met with bewilderment because she's the only one he doesn't insult all the time.

Clethra was born with zir disability and has come to terms with that. Ze wouldn't want to be able-bodied if given the chance, even though it does make a lot things quite difficult (as is, you know, the nature of disabilities). Generally, ze is proud of every part of zirself and has yet to hesitate to hit someone over the head with zir crutches and then tell them why crutches are brilliant to have, but especially as a kid that was,,,, well. Yeah. Hello vulnerability issues!

Ana is aware, of course. She didn't grow up disabled and unable to play just like other kids, but she gets the feeling of being left behind at times, even though the people around do what they can to include both of them. Also, Clethra trusts her enough to not be an asshole constantly which says enough in and of itself, really.

There's one (1) other person who knows a little more about Clethra (and zir weaknesses) though.

Meet Ar, inofficial leader of that rebellion, chronic optimist in the most infuriating way. (Ar is short for Arson.)

(So far my concept for them--and if anyone knows the name of that hairstyle?? I swear I've seen it before and I know how they did that bc I spent two days reading what I could about Black hair but????)

Ar spends a lot of time just strolling around, or used to anyways, and kept picking up, well, basically anyone who's young and mad and fed up with the status quo. They're too bloody sociable and friendly--not naïve though. Their ex-best friend (the actual protagonist) turned into a cynical radical fuck-up willing to murder anyone for a technically good goal--they consciously refuse to go the same way.

So, one day, Ar's just walking around and comes across a guy with a rather alt hairstyle, pretty beaten up, trying to get to zir feet, offers help and is promptly told to piss off in more and more obscene detail. Essentially, Clethra did have to admit that ze needed help getting anywhere (crutches were broken, ze never elaborated on what happened before though), and Ar's first proper attempt at a conversation is "Soo, wanna join my rebellion?"

(The answer was yes.)

Ar is friends with uhhh, basically everyone who doesn't mind more or less radical anarchists aiming to overthrow the current oppressive regime. Clethra absolutely complains about that constantly. Ze wishes ze could be somewhat sociable, too, but... well. Ar has enough social skills for all of them combined.

But since Ar has seen Clethra during one of zir worst moments, that's... alright. Now. Aside from Ana, they're the only one allowed to worry about zir. They think it's sweet. (Cleth hit them the one time they dared to express that sentiment out loud.)

So! I'm working out my character dynamics through tumblr posts bc why not!

I mean please don't steal my OCs of course but I doubt anyone except my moots sees this anyways and it's not a writing project I'd want to properly publish some day (not in this form anyways, my world building so far is garbage). But yeah. I love them all. Might further elaborate on Ana and Ar and the so far unmentioned protagonist whom I actually made up exclusively to torture, which thrn spiralled into this story.

I love all of my OCs dearly and they suffer. Lol.

Okay so. I need to ramble about my OCs. So.

Meet Clethra.

(ID in alt)

Look at zir. I'm getting gender envy (as always when I design a punk character).

Clethra uses ze/zir pronouns, is often kind of an asshole but of the variety that will remember every little fact about you even if you think no one cares and then anonymously do small things to help you. But also, touch zir crutches and you're dead meat (deserved).

(ID in alt)

Clethra is part of a resistance organisation in a story I've kind of been drabbling with on the side recently and while ze can't really participate in many direct actions because running away isn't all that much of an option, ze's one of the people organising most of those and fiddling with special equipment.

Tell zir a thing and ze won't forget again, like, ever. Or at least it'll seem like it.

Ze also has a very dry, very sarcastic sense of humour. Clethra doesn't need no spiked crutches to mess you up. And ze will not hesitate--ze's kinda ruthless.

(ID in alt)

That's Clethra's motto in life. There's a whole number of assholes who can testament to that - and that the arm strength ze built up along with those spikes on the crutches are fuckin lethal.

(And yeah, half of those poses are from that one person on tiktok providing references with crutches bc holy shit)

In conclusion, I love zir.

[helie-brain]

Troy (2004)

I recently watched Troy again, and I have to say that I really love the film. I understand that it’s not the greatest film and that a lot of people hate it because it is a horrible adaptation from the Iliad. But does it deserve all of the hate. I mean if you take away the aspect that it is supposed to be BASED OFF of the Iliad, its a great movie. 

The sets are beautiful and impressive.  You feel, or in my opinion, like you are in the city of Troy. Even when it is being sacked, you still get a feeling of how large the city is. Talking about the sacking,  the movie, the directors cut version, did not shy away of depicting how violent the sacking of the city can be; children being burned, women being raped, people hanging and much more. The costumes, even if they may not be accurate, are very beautiful and looks like a lot of work was put into them. Same can be said about the weapons being used. 

The fighting scenes are gruesome, realistic, thrilling and well choreographed. Especially when it came to Hector and to Achilles, it definitely shows why they are the greatest fighters of their time. Without dumbing down the other fighters. For example Hector vs A-Jax, it was a really close fight, with both getting some good punches, but in the end Hector won. And while they were fighting, the rest of the soldiers were fighting and not watching them with amazement. But the greatest fight scene would have to be Achilles vs Hector, no cgi, no stunt men, just two men fighting to the death. 

The characters/cast themselves were great and memorable. You cannot think of Hector without thinking Eric Bana. He played him so well, whenever he talked it felt like an actual leader was talking. Brian Cox was perfect for the role of Agamemnon, at times he was the best part of the film. His outburst were never played as a joke and were never overly emotional. He was not a dumb villain who only had one goal, his moves were calculated and there was always another reason at play. Even Orlando Bloom did a great job at playing a naïve, entitled, most punchable face, which is what Paris was; a prince who stole another man’s wife and started a war that resulted in countless deaths. 

My favorite character would have to be Briseis, played by Rose Byrne. She is a stubborn, fearless, family oriented, somewhat entitled person, who doesn’t want people to die; Greeks or Trojans. And is willing to put herself at risk so others won’t risk there lives saving her. Not to mention I love her dynamic with Achilles. Speaking of which, Brad Pitt did amazing job at playing an annoying, arrogant, childish, warrior with a cheeky heart of gold. Yes I know that in the Iliad or other related books, he has a romantic relationship with Patroclous, but honestly I like the idea that he his cousin that he must watch over. In my opinion it adds more pain to Patrclous’s death; not only did Achilles lose someone he loved but he failed as a guardian. 

I liked that they didn’t add Gods to the film, even though they were a big part in the books. The reason is that the movie would then be more about the gods than the warriors. Meaning that the choices and actions the humans did would not be so impactful since it didn’t come from them fully but were swayed by the gods. Also we the audience would not have much a connection with the humans if we constantly had to go back and forth between the humans and the gods. 

But again nothing is perfect, there are things in the film that I have trouble with. The main one being pacing, I understand that showing 10 years would be somewhat difficult. But make the war last longer than a few days, that way you can flesh out more the relationships and the characters.  Also how passive Helen was through out the film; I mean Hector’s wife was taking care of her child, dealing with the lose of her husband and in the end saving Troy. Briseis was trying to stay alive in the enemy camp. Helen just seemed to be sitting there and only making small attempts to flee back. 

But in the end it’s a film that is BASED ON the Iliad. And the primary purpose of a film is to entertain. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. 

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Song of a Mermaid Warrior pt 2

Part 2 to the mermaid story!

Decided to continue it, wanted to see where Jordan's story ends up.

You can read pt 1 here.

Enjoy!

___________________________

“Well, well, well! Never thought I’d see the mermaid herself swimming over to my fetid swamp here in the slums!”

A slim young man with bright purple hair grinned, flipping a silver coin into the air over and over without looking at it. “Thought you said you were never coming back? What, did your last book not sell as well now that you're peddling comforting little lies about your species?”

Jordan leaned against the doorframe of the dilapidated shop, wondering for the thousandth time if this was a bad idea. She knew the answer, deep down, but chose to ignore it. “Tock, cut the crap.”

“Oh sweetie, you haven’t changed. “ Tock laughed. “ I can cut the crap, but not sure what use it would be… crap is notoriously difficult to cut, tends to mush up, you know… and whose crap should be cut? Mine?” He shrugged. “ Sorry to say this body doesn’t make physical waste. What about yours?”

Jordan rubbed her forehead. “I should have known better than to do anything other than speak as literally as possible… I hate fairies.”

“You only know one fairy, darling.” Tock’s eyes blinked, the irises turning green, than orange, than staying at a robin’s egg blue. “Unfair of you to judge the whole species just because you don’t like me. Especially because I have been nothing but fair and helpful to you.”

“You tried to trick me into giving you my skin.”

“TRIED. Tried is the key word there. Plus you didn’t fall for it, so what’s the problem?”

Jordan sighed, knowing that there was never any point with arguing with Tock.

She had run into the fairy over two years ago. At that time she was frantic, trying to find Hunter’s location, and her desperation had led her to the darker corners of the city. She had spent every last coin she had, unable to eat or sleep, and at her darkest moment, she stumbled into Tock’s shop. Later Jordan had realized that it was likely that despair that had allowed her to find his place. There were magic wards to keep all but the most vulnerable out.

When they met, Tock had seen her madness, her obsession, and was ecstatic. He tried to get her to agree to many terrible deals in exchange for tracking down Hunter and after adding a small addendum she had agreed, feeling that whatever price she had to pay was worth it.

In the end, the addendum she had insisted on saved her skin, quite literally. She had added on a time limit that he had to track Hunter down and arrange a meeting. And to Tock’s shock and dismay, whatever elven magic was hiding Hunter’s identity; it was beyond the fairy’s ability to dismantle.

Tock had failed to find Hunter, and the contract expired. Jordan left, at the time feeling a strange mix of disappointment at the failure and gratitude to be still in one piece. As they parted ways, she swore never to come back to his broken place of deals with the devil.

Until today.

“So what brings you here, my lovely little fish?” Tock flipped his coin again, and it sizzled as it disappeared into thin air. “Still trying to find that stubborn elf boyfriend of yours?”

“He was just a friend, and no. I gave up on him years ago.”

Tock frowned, blinking as his eyes turned a bronze color. “Pity. Your skin has only gotten prettier since the last time I saw it… would love to find your price to part with it.”

“…” The memory of Hunter cheerfully making plans to run away with her still hung in her mind. What was it that he had said? “We might lose our clothes and money, but at least we’d have a fun story to tell”? We had no idea what real fairies were like. The ocean’s song in Jordan’s ears was rising, she kept her lips closed to hold back the seductive call of the magic. The fairy noticed her struggle, backing away slightly.

“Fine, fine, no more talk about your skin. Why are you mermaids so sensitive about losing organs?” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Mermaids regenerate, right? Or was that trolls?”

“Tock….” The name was forced out between clenched teeth.

The fairy rolled his eyes, changing them to a pure silver color. “So what deal DO you want to make today, my angry mermaid friend?”

She dug through her pocket handing over a silver badge with a handkerchief. Her touch shouldn’t affect his abilities, but Jordan still didn’t want to touch it. It represented something she had tried to move beyond in the last few years, a part of the past that caused her to wake up sobbing some nights, and to stay up drinking others.

Hunter had been her only friend, the only person in this world she thought she could trust. She had learned the hard way how foolish that trust had been. But once she had finally made peace with that fact, he had sent someone to intrude in her life once more. After forcing her to stay out of his battle, he was inviting her to join him, dangling the one thing he knew she couldn’t resist to get her to agree: the existence of other full blood mermaids.

She wasn’t going to play by his rules. If he was expecting her to run back to his side after forcing her away years ago, he would be sorely disappointed. And if she was going to use the clue he had given her, it was for her reasons and no one else’s. Because for everything he had gotten wrong, Hunter had gotten one thing very right:

She did want to find the mermaids in the city.

Not out of any sense of loyalty or need to find others like her, however. She was simply desperate. The instincts to fight and kill, to use her magic to trap and destroy, grew stronger by the day. Soon she was afraid she’d start killing innocent people. She needed to find a way to control it.

Jordan was hoping that other mermaids would know how.

Maybe other mermaids don’t have this problem. She thought at her darkest moments. Maybe I’m just a killer, a monster.

She tried not to think about that to often.

Tock gingerly picked up the badge, his eyes widening with surprise and turning a glowing violet.

“You always have the best things! Let’s see… silver… It was made several years ago… it had other forms years ago… but the owners of those items died quite violently…” He paused, glancing at her curiously. “Your handiwork, I would guess?”

“No comment.”

“Such an unfriendly fish… good thing you have such pretty skin, otherwise I wouldn’t pay you any attention.” He turned back towards the badge in his hand. “It was made with care and love… quite a pure emotion of care… along with a large amount of hope, all mixed in with the silver as it was reformed… it was part of a set?”

“Yes.” She swallowed uncomfortably, pushing back the memories of a young naïve girl, who thought herself hardened and bitter, carefully making a birthday present for her best friend.

“Can I see the other one?”

She thought of the location of the badge she had once treasured. “No.”

Tock pouted. “Fine. It contains quite a few auras, but the strongest one… is quite familiar.” His eyes turned a bright angry red. “Elf!”

“Yeah, it was Hunter’s.”

“That BASTARD! His blasted elf magic forced me to lose my contract with you!” He tossed the badge to the counter with a disgusted grimace. “You’ll never be that perfect combination of desperate and vulnerable again!” He looked back at me. “You are STILL trying to find that elf who dumped you three years ago? And I thought you had standards.”

The ocean song roared in her ears as it sensed her anger, pushing at her control, leaking from her lips. She could feel it swelling beneath her skin, threatening to force itself out. Tock rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Don’t try your battle magic here. You may be quite terrifying to meet in a dark alleyway, but I have some great wards in place.” He sneered as she kept her lips closed tightly. “Just a word of advice: Don’t face off a fairy in his own home.”

Jordan forced her magic down with great struggle, every instinct wanting to lash out. “I don’t want you to find Hunter. I want to know most frequent locations this amulet has been over the past six months.”

“And that’s not the same thing because…”

“Because it’s not him I’m wanting to find.” If he's found mermaids, then the locations he's been, the people he's spoken to... they'll be clues to track them down.

Tock raised an eyebrow. “Then what ARE you trying to find?”

“None of your business. I just need the locations this object has been most frequently.”

“Very well.” His smile became sly, his eyes shifting away from the angry red to a dark blue. “What deal shall we make for me to do this? How about your skin…”

The last word trailed off as Jordan held up a golden coin.

“…”

_________________________________

The silence in the room stretched on, as Tock’s gaze was locked on the object in her hand. His eye color was shifting rapidly, brown, grey, orange, green, before the whole eye filled with color finally turning a solid, glowing silver. His shoulders twitched, and his teeth grew longer in his mouth, the sharp points pressing into his still human appearing lips.

“Where did you get that?” His whisper had lost all of his previous joking tone. There was a small amount of magic woven into his words, a minor compelling spell to force her to speak, and speak truthfully. It buried itself in her ear, making her thoughts foggy. Jordan smiled, shaking her head as the ocean song within her rose in volume, drowning out the fairy magic easily, keeping her mind clear.

“I’ve picked up a lot of things these past few years.”

“ANSWER. THE. QUESTION.”

“No.” Jordan flipped the coin, mimicking the fairy’s earlier actions. “Don’t try your magic on me, fairy. I’ve had too many years of practice ignoring magical compulsions.”

“Fine.” He sighed loudly. “Do you know what it is you have there? Do you know if there’s any more?”

“I’ve heard stories… tales only whispered in dark alleys and in crumbling basements. Do you know in schools here they teach that the humans are the only ones affected by the Darkness? That losing the ability to have children was the be all and end all of the curse?”

“…” Tock kept silent, staring at her. Shrugging, she continued with a mocking smile.

“What a limited view, right? Turns out that everyone lost something to the Darkness. Every single one. It took whatever that species valued most. For humans, such a short-lived, social people, it was taking away the ability to make new generations. But fairies… you are born of magic and air, part of nature and outside of time. Procreation means nothing to you.” She flipped the coin up, letting it spin in the air before catching it and holding it firmly in her hand. “The Darkness took something much more important to you fairies.”

Tock was trembling at her words, unclear if it was with fear or anger. “What do you think the Darkness took from us?”

Jordan glanced at his empty back. “Your wings.”

“…” The fairy’s hands were gripping the counter in front of him. His fingers sank into the wood as easily as if it was made of clay.

“If it were just something to help you fly, I bet you would have simply made do without them. But they represent something much more important, don’t they?” She leaned closer, ignoring his threatening aura. “That’s where fairies store their magic. So now you have the live with the scraps of magic you absorb from the earth and enchanted items, unable to store it within yourself. That’s why you work here, in this pitiful little shop, unable to do more than hide behind these wards and peddle minor magic tricks for favors.”

“Be careful, mermaid…”

“Oh I’m careful enough, Tock.” She opened her hand and stared at the coin in her palm. “No wonder you wanted my skin… how much magic should be stored within it, I wonder. Enough to last you a few years I would think. Which is why this little coin is so important to you.”

“…”

“Fairy gold.” She held it up again. “Quite pretty, actually, looks like the real thing even on close inspection. But if I were to try to spend it… it would expel all the magic stored inside, turning to wood and taking away my lifetime’s luck. An inconvenience for me… but for you?” She grinned. “It stores enough magic for you to live comfortably for quite some time. You could leave this shop, set up protective wards wherever you ended up. Magic enough to stabilize your appearance so your eyes and ears don’t change; let you blend in if you wanted to leave your house for a change. “

“…”

“So what do you say, Tock.” Jordan flipped the coin one last time. “Do we have a deal?”

After a long pause, the fairy spoke up. “… I …”

“TOCK ARE YOU HERE?!!”

The shop door slammed open and a short redheaded young man burst in. As he rushed to the counter, Jordan got a closer look. He was a few inches shorter than her, his leaner frame still obviously muscular. His facial features were handsome, with bright green eyes that glowed with excitement and fiery red hair that was cropped short. He wore regular clothing, a grey t shirt and jeans, and would have seemed very average except for the massive axe strapped to his back.

Who the heck is this?

“Glit, this isn’t the time.” Tock warned, his tone still angry and tense.

“No, Tock, I’ve been thinking about it… maybe I SHOULD be willing to compromise… exactly how much skin would you need to help me find the dwarves?”

The fairy’s eyes glowed an excited gold, his teeth retracting once more as he stabilized his appearance. “Well now…”

“Add his bill to mine.” Jordan interrupted, glaring at Tock. “No skin.”

“But… that’s unfair! We already had a deal!”

“You didn’t accept it in time, so now the deal has changed. “ She shrugged “The price I’m offering is more than enough to cover us both. I would suggest you take the deal before it changes again.”

Tock glared. “FINE! FINE, I ACCEPT!”

The young man turned to her, shocked. She met his gaze, holding back the urge to sigh. Jordan wasn’t much one for random acts of kindness to strangers, but he reminded her of herself a few years ago. Lost, desperate… the only kind of people who can slip past Tock’s wards. She just wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to her interference… annoyance? Gratitude?’

He grinned at her. “You look really strong! Wanna fight?!”

… Well that certainly hadn’t been the reaction she was expecting.

“Maybe later…”

His shoulders slumped. “Dangit. I was losing hope of meeting a strong person in this awful city… no offense if you like it here.”

“None taken, I don’t.”

“I finally meet someone worthy of a good fight, and I make a terrible first impression.” He sighed. “My Ma always did say I needed to work on my introductions.”

“…And you are?”

His eyes widened. “I haven’t told you that yet?” His hand slapped his forehead. “Sorry, must have been distracted by the whole ‘trading my skin’ thing. I’m Glitenaere ni Tolk Vhelarite, firstborn of Marleiun ge Nerturin, the greatest Dwarven warrior alive… but you can call me Glit!”

She looked over the short young man. “You are the greatest warrior?”

“Nope. My Ma.”

“You’re a dwarf?”

“Since I was born.”

Jordan felt curious, having only ever read about dwarves from human textbooks, which said they were a reclusive, unfriendly race.

The reportedly unfriendly, reclusive dwarf was reaching out to shake her hand. “Thanks for the saving my skin, friend!”

She didn’t take his hand. “Shouldn’t you have a beard?”

Tock burst out into laughter, his eyes turning a humorous magenta. “Wow, way to go straight for the gut.”

“Aww, shut up fairy, she didn’t mean anything by it. Can’t blame her for not knowing in a city like this.” Glit leaned against the counter, rubbing his chin with an idle hand. “I’m a darkling, a child born infected by the Darkness.”

“Every race lost something.” Jordan whispered.

“Not everyone was infected, but those who were never grew beards.” He looked sad for a brief moment. “It’s a symbol of strength, of connection to the Earth… everything in our culture revolves around it.”

“What about the women?”

“Oh they grow them too. You should see my Ma. Her beard makes all the boys cry with jealousy.” Glit laughed. “They all thought with her being the strongest and all, her child would be too… but…”

“…Sorry.”

“Oh don’t worry, friend. I’m not weak. I may not have a connection with the earth and a powerful beard, but I’m a force to be reckoned with when I have an axe in my hand!”

Tock looked up, his eyes turning bright white. “You may have to test that out sooner rather than later. We have company.”

BANG! Something slammed into the closed door behind them.

_________________________________

Jordan took a defensive stance, while Glit drew his axe. “Who’s coming?”

“Probably one of those damn purity obsessed groups. They constantly sweep the slums, looking for low bloods and part elves. Usually the wards keep them away, but today, I got a little… distracted. “

“Great. Not really in the mood to deal with these guys, Tock.”

“They bad guys?” Glit spoke up.

“Yep.” Jordan answered softly. “They do horrible things to those who can’t defend themselves.”

“Fair enough. Today they picked on the wrong type of people, though.” Glit grinned. “Let’s kill them!”

His easy acceptance of the violence they would face ahead gave her a little pause. Before she could examine it too closely, the door crashed open, and a large group of men wearing black cloths around the lower halves of their faces rushed in. In their hands were standard pistols, the dull metal glinting off the many lamps of Tock’s shop.

“Looks like we got a haul, boys!” One of them spotted Glit and Jordan, his eyes widening with shock. “That short one definitely can’t be high purity… he’s either a low blood or a dirty elf mix blood! And the other…” He glanced and Jordan and laughed. “A No Blood? Thought they were all gone!”

Glit twirled the massive axe in his hand with ease, looking confused. “Do I look like an elf?”

Jordan thought of the tall quiet young man who had always followed behind her, always trying to avoid violence. “Not even a little.”

“Ah.” He tossed the axe lightly, catching it with the other hand. “Hey fellas, despite your insults and poor eyesight, I’m gonna be nice. Here’s your one chance to run away, before my strong friend and I start slicing you to pieces.”

Even with the majority of his face covered, the disdain on the attacker’s face was evident. “Shut up, dirty elf! Even with your axe, you really think you can face a group with guns?" He snorted, "Now we’re gonna have fun killing you.”

Glit just laughed at the threat. “I was hoping you guys would say that!”

As the group of attackers spread out around the room, he turned to face one side, leaving his back open to Jordan.

Jordan hesitated briefly at Glit’s open back, startled at the gesture of trust, before slowly turning to cover him. She glanced around to see that Tock had disappeared before closing her eyes, calling up the song within her and setting it free.

From her mouth a song of battle rang out. Several of the attackers stopped in their tracks, caught in her illusion, but the rest were only mildly affected, just barely losing their grips on their weapons.

Jordan cursed silently, still singing. Her magic was very effective against small groups of enemies, but the more people it was spread out against, the less useful it would be.

As the song of death spilled constantly from her lips, she felt her nails grow out into claws and moved forward, striking the attackers that were not incapacitated first. From the side she heard Glit run forward, spinning his axe, blood and tissue flying through the air as he cut through enemies.

Blood dripped from her fingers. She heard someone behind her, preparing to strike and turned, grabbing his neck. She felt the water within his heart, and used her magic to stop it in place. His face turned pale, and clutching his chest, he fell to the ground.

Jordan was feeling the drain of her magic. Her vision was turning a bright blue, the song growing in her mind, calling for her to give in completely.

BANG! A shot rang out past her ear, and sensing the danger, the song surged louder in her soul.

Can’t give up all control to my instincts. She thought grimly, slicing the shooter’s face. I might just lose myself completely.

It was hard, fighting against physical enemies while resisting the magical bind of her own blood, but Jordan forced herself forward, grateful for the help of the dwarf beside her. If she had faced all these enemies by herself, she might have lost to the bloodlust within her.

The air was filled with blood and screams.

And then… there was silence.

__________________________________

Jordan’s vision cleared as she forced the song of the ocean down, keeping it tightly controlled within herself. Her nails retracted and she stood in place, staring down at the blood on her hands.

Hunter always said he didn’t want me to be a killer. She closed her eyes briefly with pain. She felt dirty, worthless. Maybe if I wasn’t one he wouldn’t have left me behind.

Lost in her thoughts, she only came out of it as she felt a warm touch on her hands. Shocked, her eyes flew open, only to see Glit pushing a large wet cloth into her grasp.

“Here, friend, you can clean your hands with this.”

She paused, unused to the kindness, but took it anyways. “Thanks.”

“No problem! You’re amazing! That battle song… had magic in it right? Are you not human?”

“Mermaid.” The word came out before she could stop it, and Jordan pressed her lips together, annoyed. He’s a stranger. No need to tell him anything more. She tucked the dirty rag in her pocket, not wanting to give Tock a free sample of her blood.

“Really? I thought they had all disappeared!” Glit’s face lit up. “My Ma always said that the mermaids were the only warriors she wouldn’t want to face up against! That’s awesome!”

She glanced at the dismembered bodies on his side of the room. “You’re not such a bad fighter yourself.”

His smile brightened. “Really? Thanks! Those guys back home thought I was pretty useless, being a Darkling and all, but if a mermaid warrior says so, I’ll trust your opinion!”

“This is all very touching… but what am I supposed to do about the mess you made?” Tock’s annoyed tone caught their attention.

“We fought off your attackers while you hid in the back, fairy.” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “You can worry about the mess. You’re lucky we don’t charge you for the service.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Glit crossed his arms, standing at her shoulder, and smiled at Tock, the still bloody axe in his hand making the gesture threatening.

Tock rolled his now yellow eyes. “Fine. While you two were gleefully tearing those idiots to pieces, I finished the tasks you gave me.” He spread a map on the counter, ignoring as the far corner was stained with blood. Jordan recognized it as a map of the city. With a golden pen the fairy circled a few buildings. “Here’s where the amulet has spent the most time in the last six months, in order of most time spent.”

She glanced over at Glit beside her. “And the dwarves?”

“Tougher, since he doesn’t have a possession from the dwarves in question, but…” He picked up a silver marker, and circled one place. “There is a high concentration of earth magic here.”

Glit and Jordan stared at the spot, where silver and gold overlapped.

“Looks like me might be looking for the same place.” She whispered.

“Really? That’s great, friend!” He paused. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Jordan. But I don’t think we’re friends. I don’t trust anyone.” Not anymore.

“Jordan!” He grinned. “Don’t worry, we can still be friends. You don’t have to trust me. I’ll trust you enough for the both of us.”

Tock groaned. “You’re so naïve… why couldn’t you have shown up when the mermaid wasn’t around?! I could have extorted you for so much skin!”

Jordan grabbed the map silently, unsure of how to respond to the dwarf’s enthusiasm.

“If you’re going there, can we go together? I’m looking for a large group of dwarves that disappeared, we think they might be being held captive in the city.”

“…You really shouldn’t trust people so easily.” Her words came out as a pained whisper.

Glit’s face became solemn for the first time since they met. “It’s okay. I’ve grown up in a world that hates me. It’s not been easy, but over the years, I’ve developed a good sense of those around me, and what kind of people they are.”

“And kind of person do you think I am?” She was genuinely curious what the cheerful dwarf thought of her.

“You? Well, you’re someone who cares too much and wishes you wouldn’t. My guess is that you’ve been hurt very badly by someone you trusted… and now you would never wish that same pain on another person.” He shrugged. “So that’s why I trust you. You might kill me if you have to, but you’ll do it facing me. You won’t stab me in the back. You couldn’t bear to do that to someone after what you’ve been through.”

“Interesting opinion.” Jordan felt a strange mixture of despair and relief at his words. “Not put off by me killing men while they’re stunned by magic? That wasn’t just a fight…I’m a killer.”

“Hmm… well, I just chopped up six guys with an axe, and the only reason they didn’t shoot a bunch of holes in me is because of your magic, so I’m pretty sure I can’t judge.” Glit patted her on the back. “Are you looking for mermaids, like I’m looking for dwarves?”

She nodded silently, although silently she thought their reasons for looking were quite different.

“Then let’s go find our people together! You don’t have to trust your back to me, but don’t worry! I’ll defend it anyways.”

“Can you two leave?" Tock rubbed his face tiredly, his eyes flickering between purple and pink. "This touchy feely stuff is bad for my business. What if some desperate fool walks in and is inspired by all your motivational speaking?”

Jordan tossed him the fairy gold, taking back the silver badge she had given him, and turned and left the shop. “Never coming back, Tock.”

“Keep telling yourself that, my fishy friend!” He called back. “You’ll come back. They always do.”

“Okay then! See you later, Tock!” Glit called out as he walked behind her.

“…Actually, I would prefer it if YOU don’t come back. You give me a headache.”

Jordan and Glit left the carnage filled shop behind them

_________________________________

“So mermaids and dwarves being held in the center of the city.” Glit thought out loud. “Some sort of human conspiracy?”

Jordan thought of growing up in the orphanage, the city’s emphasis on having higher purity of mermaid blood rather than human, the complete lack of information on other races. She thought of Hunter and the underground Resistance. Of the Darkness that spread everywhere, touching every species.

Everyone lost something to the darkness, right?

So what did mermaids lose?

... What did I lose?

“There’s something broken about this world, more going on here then we realize.” Jordan answered softly. “But we’re going to figure it out.”

“Together?”

“For now.”

“Awesome!” He pumped a fist in the air. “Wait until I tell my Ma I went on a quest with a mermaid warrior. She’s gonna be so impressed!” He paused. “You two would get along, I think. Strong warrior types and all.”

Jordan sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Why does everyone keep sighing around me?”

“… Let’s go. “

_________________________________

They moved quietly towards the place marked on the map. Glit, surprisingly, activated a hidden mechanism on his axe, folding it into thirds and hiding it in a backpack, and pinned on a “34” badge. He saw her glance at the silver ornament and shrugged. “Snatched this off some guy who tried to mug me when I arrived in town. Most people think I’m just a low purity level student when I’m dressed like this .”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“…” Older than me? Jordan adjusted her mental view of him silently.

“Don’t worry if you thought I was younger.” He raised his hands helplessly. “No beard and the dwarven height tends to confuse people.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries, as long as you don’t think I’m weak and helpless just because I’m shorter than you.”

She thought of him cutting through enemies with his axe. “No chance of that.”

They made they way to the abandoned factory that Tock had marked for them. As they neared the area, Glit pulled out a machine from his bag waving it through the air.

“What’s that?”

“Dwarven machine, it detects the presence of magic.” He frowned. “We need to be careful. This whole place is covered with spells.”

“If this was a human holding place…”

“It shouldn’t have magic.” He finished her thought. “Maybe go up to the roof and enter from there instead?”

They scaled the wall silently, cutting a small hole in the roof with yet another tool from Glit’s bag. As she peered into the building, she felt the ocean’s song start welling up within her.

“There’s danger here. We should go back and regroup.”

“Jordan, look out!” Glit pushed her to the side, wincing as the blow from behind her struck his head instead.

Jordan opened her mouth to release her magic, but before a sound could escape, a hand grasped her arm and magic flooded her body.

“Sleep.” The voice was familiar, but her mind was already falling into darkness.

Jordan woke up on a couch in a dark room. Groaning, she rubbed her head, feeling angry. She knew this feeling, this hung over dizzy sensation. Remembered it too clearly even though she wished she could forget.

“Elven magic.”

Glit groaned from his sprawled position in the corner of the room, his arms and legs tied tightly. The ropes dug into his skin, but he ignored it as he flipped his body into a sitting position on the floor, looking up at her with a sad expression. “Sorry I missed them behind us.”

“It’s fine, thanks for taking that hit for me.” She glanced at the wound on his head, crusted with dried blood, and winced. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a friendly tap. I’ve got a hard head.” He grinned, then looked around. “Real question is, who has us, and why?”

“I have an idea... but I really hope I’m not right.”

“You always did have good instincts, Jordan.”

The familiar voice spoke up from the doorway, Jordan forced herself to sit up on the couch, staring at their captor with a pained expression.

She knew him.

Of course she knew him.

He had set his trap, sent her his badge, knowing she would use it… and she had fallen for it.

The man who haunted her nightmares smiled sadly at her. “Not happy to see me?”

She blinked, shaking her head slowly. “Hello again, Hunter.”

[angeli-marco-writes]

Sam Holland - Don't Tell

A/N & WC - This is not meant to glorify or condone adultery in any way. I do not know Sam, nor do I claim to, this is a work of fiction. This was written before Sam posted about a new girlfriend: no disrespect is meant towards her. I do not believe Sam would do this: it is fictitious. 3.5k.

Warnings - Adultery, explicit smut, unprotected sex, swearing, reader is the other woman, swearing, brief allusions to SA. 18+.

Summary - When Sam booty calls you, you can't deny him, but will sexual satisfaction be enough? Or will you always want from him what you know you can't have?

THIS WASN’T HOW YOU’D PLANNED to spend your Saturday afternoon, but Sam called, and who were you to deny him?

‘Come over at 3.’ He texted you. ‘She’s leaving then.’

No kisses, no emojis, no frills, no sign off, nothing. You’re just a nameless number in his phone. You knew what it meant. You’ve done it plenty of times before, so you know the drill, it’s just not exactly pleasant.

With ample time, you left your house, your new place only a couple of streets over from the Holland household, and you walked as inconspicuously as possible. Your coat wrapped tightly around you, you refused to make eye contact with anyone on the whole walk there.

You know the drill so well by now that you know not to stick to the front of the house, but instead to head around the back—straight into his bedroom window—via the bins. Theoretically, with no one home and Sam in the living room, you could walk in the front door, but his room is safest since she has always refused to enter—’just in case.’

Your heart thuds against your chest while you hold your breath, praying not to be heard downstairs the second your feet land on his floor. You press yourself flat against the wall behind Sam’s door, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in your body clenched to the maximum. You’ve trained yourself to stay so quiet that the only sounds are your pounding, racing heart and the blood rushing in your ears.

Thankfully, before cramp can override you, you hear the words that give you the all clear.

“Bye, love!” he calls down the driveway, followed by a half hearted air kiss, a deafening crunching on the gravel driveway, and the front door at last clicking shut.

Your body finally relaxes, limbs falling loosely around you while you release one of the longest held breaths you’ve ever had.

You creak open Sam’s bedroom door, ready for him to meet you, and shrug your coat off, throwing it on the floor alongside your converse when you hear him coming upstairs. He gets like this, heavy steps and heaved breaths like they’re a strain on his body, and it usually means he’s extra horny.

“What took so long, lover boy?” you tease, standing scantily clad in his door frame, leaning against the painted wood.

His eyes darken with lust as he approaches you, his shadow from the landing already overpowering.

This isn’t like any sex or ‘relationship’ you’ve ever been in before. It’s risky, and that risk makes it so much hotter. Always leaving the door open just a crack so that the two of you could be found only by those closest to Sam, the chance of being caught together in the street on the off chance you go for drinks; after all, your reputation precedes you. But it’s the adulterous element of your relationship that makes it so fun. The fact that it’s usually after his girlfriend leaves that you’re called over to relieve his not-so-little ‘problem’, the little marks you trail across the hidden parts of his body, occasionally being risky enough to plant one on the juncture of his neck and shoulder just to test the waters.

After being together for over two years, she still refuses to do anything with him. Of course you respect such a thing: if she wants to wait till marriage and is able to resist Sam for that long, props to her. It’s just not always ideal for all party members. Sure, they’ve kissed, a little groping, but by this point, with how little Sam's lass has done with him, he’s immensely riled up.

He really likes his girlfriend, of course he does, and he’s spoken to her about this time and time again, asking why they couldn’t just do something more than a PG-12 touching session. She simply shook her head and smiled every time, “I’m saving myself for marriage, Sammy.” This infuriated him hugely. He’s been with a girl or two (or ten) before her, so is very expectant, but being twenty-two has its burdens. He isn’t anywhere near ready for marriage, but is increasingly sexually frustrated. So after an insane year of getting by with absolutely no action apart from the rare lap dance and make out, he knew he had to do something besides use his own hand to relieve the tension that was making him a complete prick.

He respects his girlfriend enough not to pressure her. Sam isn’t a bad person and so he isn’t going to coerce his girlfriend into sex she doesn’t want, seeing it as utterly immoral, so he did the only thing he could think of, and turned to the girl next door, quite literally. Not that it’s any more moral, but here you are.

As soon as he reaches you, the smirk etched upon his face is perfect, just what you expect, and his hands grip your waist tightly.

“You think you’re so cheeky,” he smirks, and his lips crash onto yours the next moment, his hands spanning your sides. His affection halts as he smacks the side of your ass. “I’ll show you cheeky.”

You don’t let him get another word in before you’re kissing him again, furiously this time, hooking one leg around his waist as the other flies to his neck, your clasp anything but gentle.

You’ve known of the Holland family for a while, living a street away, going to school with the boys and your mother having ‘neighbourhood meetings’ with the family. You, however, had had nothing to do with them, never getting involved in their ordeals, not really.

Keeping a resolutely ‘good girl’ demeanour all through school was difficult, especially when you wanted to rebel so earnestly. The first step was house parties, beginning when you were in year ten, everyone getting shit-faced and ending up giving sloppy hand-jobs in someone’s downstairs loo. That much you weren’t a fan of, so you waited until the end of school, A-Levels secured to be who you wanted to be. Trench coats, docs and chucks at every turn, short shorts and fishnets. Lots of hair dye came next, followed by a ‘scandalous’ collection of piercings, and a significant body count for someone your age, or so conservative old women perceived. Fuck them, your body your choice.

Times changed in a year and a half, though not that much. Mid way through your rebellion, you got a good job, your own place, and became a call girl, essentially. Sam’s call girl only, considering your regrettable soft spot for him.

You couldn’t care less though, even though it’s adulterous, Sam is incredible in bed. He frequently tells you the same.

“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he murmurs, “even when she was kissing me I could only think of you.” His lips are inches from yours with your breath mingling in the confined space of his doorway as you pant.

He hasn’t touched you yet, or even moved you to the bed. You feel yourself blush a little, scared fractionally by what he’s saying but mostly flattered. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. It makes you feel like your old self is creeping in again, the girl next door that no one fell for.

“I like it when you get all shy on me, really naïve, shows me you’re a human and not just a sex goddess. My sex goddess.”

You pull his lips to yours with a burning passion, desperate to feel him up against you. Your palms settle this time on Sam's cheeks, angling his face to get the most out of the kiss, and your hold remains resolute so that he can’t pull away easily. This isn’t your dominance though, simply a ploy to hide your flushed cheeks from his prying eyes, the blush that’s been caused by his kind words. You want to keep him here long enough that you can claim the blush is from the breathlessness and the actions of his tongue slipping inside your mouth with an urgency you haven’t felt with him for a while. Is this the day that changes everything?

He backs you to the bed, walking unsteadily, and pushes you down onto the springy mattress. It pitches beneath you as he joins you, sitting by your side, his hand gravitating towards your thigh.

“Hey, what is it?” you ask, a slight hesitant stammer to your words.

“Nothing,” he sulks. “Just dunno how long I can keep doing this.”

His baleful eyes hover over your decolletage, and before you can protest and try to get him to open up about the whole situation, discussing the fact that maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead and come clean (because to be fair, it’s beginning to weight on your conscience too, even though you’ve never met said girlfriend), he kisses you, pinching your nipple through your bra until it forms a pebbled bud.

“Gonna take it all out on you,” he hisses, moving his kisses to your jaw. “All this pent up need from missing your body. God, feel so good beneath me.”

He swings a leg over to straddle your legs, and begins a ferocious attack on your neck with his teeth. You’ll have fun at work tomorrow, trying to hide them from your co-workers, one of them (on a temp basis, at least) being Sam’s twin. Harry cottoned on pretty easy, and won’t say a word, because he doesn’t want to deal with Sam’s temper when he’s been denied sex for too long. He likes Sam’s girlfriend, sure, but she doesn’t compromise on anything and looks down her nose at the lot of them, so he considers it fair play. And besides, with his track record, he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on.

Unwittingly, your hips buck up to meet his, feeling his throbbing need pressing against your pelvis, only for him to draw his body away from you, a bruising kiss being pressed to your lips the next moment. All in a flurry, your top is pulled down, your chest revealed to him.

“Bloody love your tits,” he purrs, a feral grin contorting his freckled face.

He rolls your pert bud between the rough pads of his fingers, palming at the other breast so as not to neglect it, only swapping when you’re beginning to writhe under him. His grin only increases.

“Sam… please.”

He knows what you want when you whine that way, so he sits up on his shins, and lets you tear his shirt open. Button by button, you watch as every inch of his pale chest is bared to you, his happy trail coaxing you lower.

“Get on with it, then,” he warns, clamping a hand around your hair in order to control your movements. He does this a lot, it’s his main power move. “They’re too damn tight now you’re around.”

You can definitely see that, the denim of his jeans pulled taut around his torso, the waistband of his boxers peeking above. He begins to pluck at your nipples again while you fumble with his buckle and zip, eventually tugging both items of clothing down at once. He stands, his lanky frame just a blur of white and freckles as he removes every last item, prowling back to you on the bed.

You, however, have other ideas, tugging him down with a grip on his shoulders until he’s helpless beneath you. In the time he was distracted with shucking his jeans off at last, you peeled your own shirt off and put your bra right. Sam’s a boob man, always has been, and takes great pleasure in fastening and unfastening your bras as much as he can, nestling into your chest for the time you spend together.

Since your last rodeo, you’ve gained some weight, and filled out a tad more, something Sam seems to notice right about now, especially as your chest hovers just inches from his face.

“Well? Are you gonna stare at them all day or take it off?”

This man… this man has the fucking audacity to lick his lips as one hand works on the hooks at the back of your bra, the other skimming the edges of the cups before it falls into his hands and he flings it across the room, knocking something off his dresser.

As soon as it's out of his way, he seems to forget everything apart from you, his eyes mesmerised by your chest, his mouth gaping a little, his eyes lingering on your hardened nipples for perhaps just a moment too long. You sigh to yourself, letting your knees dig into his navy comforter before your fingers wrap around his hand and place it onto your right breast. You know that, if you let him stare long enough, you’ll get nothing done. You need this release as much as he does. He takes the message, though, and begins kneading the flesh with a need you haven’t seen from him before. You even catch a wolfish grin when your face contorts into a silent ‘o’, overcome with pleasure. He tweaks your one nipple, and leans up to capture the other in his kiss-swollen lips, lavishing kisses around the sensitive area. You can’t help your nails leaving faint scratch marks in their wake over his freckled shoulders, tracing the silhouettes beneath his skin of muscle and bone, finding constellations within the freckles until he’s quaking beneath your delicate touch…

“Why’re you being such a tease?” he whines.

He has a point, you’re grinding down on his clothed cock in tandem with his playing with your boobs, your core hovering over his hard member, but it’s only fair with the stimulation he’s offering you. Just to shut him up, in one swift move you pull his boxers down and reach down to grasp him, stroking a couple of times before inching down, swallowing his aching length into your welcoming, warm walls.

Your moans create a heavenly sympathy, even as you stop for a moment to adjust to his size a little more, placing your hands on his pecs before grinding down on him. His hips begin to move, thrusting upwards and into you, finding a satisfying pace in tandem for you both as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow.

“Baby…” he moans, reaching out with his lips puckered to wrap them around your exposed nipple, suckling viciously, hard enough to hurt just a little.

“Stand up,” you command authoritatively, with a softness to your tone despite.

He grows harder inside of you, barely suppressing a groan, but his plan fails from shock when you bend over, clenching the foot of his bed so tightly your knuckles begin to turn white.

Casting a sensual glance over your shoulder, you bat your lashes and coax him the only way you know how, a wiggle of your bum added to help convince him; “Fuck me, Sammy…”

Your gasp is shrill and loud when he enters your craving core from behind, your knees nearly buckling when a stream of expletives falls from his lips once he grabs your hips, settling there. You’re sure to have hand-shaped imprints there tomorrow, but you don’t care, and apparently neither does Sam as he continues to thrust into you at an inhuman pace.

Breathy moans escape your lips as your nails find purchase in the sheets, now crumpled in your clenched fists. The only thing that fills your ears other than skin slapping against skin is the myriad of colourful words spilling from Sam in a groan, right down your ear.

“y/n… please…” he hums nonsensically, his lips finding their way to your shoulder blade and neck, kissing you, suckling.

He’s such a hypocrite: one rule for him, one rule for you, just because he’s got a girlfriend and is too pussy to break up with her even though his needs aren’t being met. For a brief moment, your body being used for his pleasure—and bringing you simultaneous heavenly satisfaction—you’re able to forget the consequences of your fornications.

They slip your mind once again the second one of his rough hands slowly makes its way down your front, finding your clit as he begins to rub harsh circles on it.

“Fuck…” you cry out, only for the heel of that hand to press into your pelvis, the other snaking around to your neck, applying the faintest pressure. Your walls tighten around him at the double stimulation.

His hips begin to move faster, blissful moans filling the room in symphony as you both near your highs, his tip grazing your special spot on every single thrust.

“C’mon,” he purrs in your ear, “can feel how close you are…” the pressure on your engorged pearl becomes a constant, and your body begins to spasm with unbridled pleasure. “Come.”

You do, and fireworks spark behind your eyes, setting off a train reaction in your brain, your walls clenching and your body collapsing, chest first, onto the edge of the bed. You must’ve cried out at some point, but your scream became but a gasp with his hand snug around your throat.

His thrusts slow, and he aids you onto the bed by your waist, but you roll away from him, aware that he hasn’t climaxed yet. He follows you down as your fingers link around his neck, but he’s not satisfied with that—as the smirk playing on his lips, causing dimples in his freckles, tells you—so he hovers above you on his knees. The hairs on his shins grate against the duvet cover so he shifts, but your hands move from his neck to his cheeks, pulling him closer to tangle your tongues together. His erection teases your wet folds while you’re lost in the movements of your mouths, and before you know it, he’s entering you again, and your hands are getting lost in his dark, silky locks, his one hand roughly kneading your breast. His thrusts recommence at a slower pace than before, his heels digging into the mattress as his groans overpower yours in the otherwise silent room.

“Shit… oh my God—” he hisses.

He begins to move faster, so you tug at his hair, revelling in the praises he offers, eliciting various heavy moans from his preoccupied mouth in between kisses. His warm breath and the resverberation of the moan vibrate across your lips, causing your hips to rock further into his, your legs wrapping around his toned torso to give him better access to your eager core. His movements become deeper as your breathing becomes even more escalated with high pitched moans tearing from your throat each time he hits your g-spot so perfectly. The knock-on effect sends him into an even more euphoric state, and before you know it, he’s groaning your name down your ear, and painting your walls white.

“Yes, Sammy…”

Your nails leave scratch marks all over his back from the sheer height of pleasure you’re experiencing, and that seems to be what sent him over the edge, his cum seeping into you as you milk his cock. He throbs inside you, his pelvis hitting you perfectly as he thrusts lazily while emptying himself. With one final press of his long, skilled thumb and digits over your sensitive nipple and a harsh bite to your pulse point just below your ear, the bundle of lust in your stomach becomes undone as you finish once again.

Before you’re fully recovered, he’s pulling out and leaving you empty as you lie together for a moment on opposite sides of the bed, no contact other than your pinky fingers linked and overlapping in between you. Except… despite the pleasure, you’re not satisfied. Not at all. And you know, in your heart, that this can’t happen again.

“Don’t tell anyone, please.”

“As fucking if,” you mumble.

“You ok?” he asks after a moment.

“Yes, just fine,” you snap, and roll off the bed, beginning to ferret around for your clothes.

“y/n, no…” Sam moves to grapple for you, “why are you leaving?”

“Because I’m done being treated like shit by you. Used as your fuck-toy when you’re too much of a pussy to deal with your girlfriend… I’m done, Sam.”

He’s up and off the bed, shucking his jeans on with great force that causes him to trip back onto the bed as you adjust your top and zip your skirt back up.

“y/n!”

“What!” you bellow right back at him.

He shuffles his feet on the carpet, and moves to speak, but his jaw just hangs open like a fish, nothing coming out.

“Yeah, I’m done here, Sam. Don’t booty-call me again.”

A weary voice from behind you calls out, “Sam?”

Shit.

This is bad. This is very bad. But what can you do? You’re the other woman, he’s the one choosing to commit adultery: why is that your problem? He can deal with his (clearly very angry) girlfriend, so livid she’s shaking, once you’re gone.

“Yeah. Your ‘don’t tell’ plan worked real good, Sammy. Karma’s a bitch,” you spit, spinning on my heels and waltzing out the door.

You mean it: you’re done. At least until he breaks up with her and undoubtedly calls back. You want him, there's no question about that, but you want him all to yourself: and that's a secret you won't tell.

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

Every Emma Woodhouse Ranked and Rated

With all my reviews of all the period-set adaptations now finished, I'm beginning my series in which I rate and rank each interpretation of all the principle characters, starting with our girl Emma!

Now I wanna be clear--I am not rating the actresses that played Emma. I am rating how the character was handled in general in each adaptation. The actresses are a factor, but they're not the sole factor, since the writer and director have as much, if not more, to do with how the character ends up in the finished product. So without futher ado, let's rank...

“Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly twenty-one years in the world with very little to distress or vex her….

“The real evils indeed of Emma’s situation were the power of having rather too much of her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself; these were the disadvantages that threatened alloy to her many enjoyments.”

NUMBER 5: 1972

Portrayed by: Doran Godwin

Age at time of filming: 28

Clocking in as the oldest actress to play Austen’s famously TWENTY-ONE year old heroine (at the ripe age of 28), Doran Godwin also snags the coveted position as inhabiting the worst portrayal of the character (in my personal estimation) to date.

Just about everything about this interpretation of Emma Woodhouse is bad, from her seemingly automated recital of her lines to her all-too-intense, wide-eyed, hypnotic stare. The 1972 portrayal of Emma highlights all the character’s worst qualities while also failing to convincingly communicate her good qualities, such as her caring nature. The script is equally to blame for the awfulness of this interpretation, adding unnecessarily cruel and condescending lines, including one where she negs Harriet for being sad after Elton’s marriage, and then forces Harriet to come with her to meet the new Mrs. Elton, when Emma in the book did her best to shield Harriet from exactly that kind of situation.

Godwin couldn’t pass for 21 if her life had depended on it, and the worst part is that the script actually states Emma’s age, so she seems like a bit of a crazy spinster, preying on the naïve Harriet. Whether it’s her intent to bathe in Harriet’s blood to keep herself young, or to bake her into a pie is up for debate.

Rating: 1/5 Half-finished portraits

NUMBER 4: 2020

Portrayed by: Anya Taylor Joy

Age at time of filming: 23

I thought long and hard about this. This movie is a modern period drama phenomenon. It’s gotten so many people into Jane Austen and satisfied long-time Austen fans by giving them an interpretation they never dared hope to see. It’s a gorgeous film.

But I don’t like this interpretation of Emma Woodhouse. Though Anya Taylor Joy is one of the youngest actresses to play Emma (only two years older than the character) she’s played with a careful stiffness that perhaps shows us a glimpse of the Lady Catherine she might turn into without swift intervention. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, and this isn’t a commentary on Anya Taylor Joy either—her appearance or her acting ability—but I just don’t like her as Emma. And she’s not the sole problem, she turns in a solid performance, she’s a good actress, but something about this characterization is just off-color to me. Anya Taylor Joy plays a great mean-girl; but I think that’s one of the reasons why they thought she’d be a good choice for this role, and it’s one of the prime reasons I don’t think she wasright for it. Emma is a deeply flawed character and, of course, the biggest turning point in her story comes as a result of a thoughtlessly mean remark to someone who has only ever shown her deference, hospitality and gratitude.

All that said, Emma is not, at her core, a cruel person. Emma has gone all her life thinking condescending things about Miss Bates but it’s only when Frank comes along and validates her less kind commentaries that she actually starts to voice them in search of validation from a peer.

The problem with this in the context of 2020’s Emma Woodhouse is that Frank hardly gets a look-in in this adaptation. Emma’s relationship with him is severely underdeveloped and the actors don’t have enough chemistry to pull it off in the limited time they’re given. The result is that Emma appears to cross a line just to cross it, and it pushes Emma’s character from thoughtless to out-and-out frigid.

Still better than Doran Godwin, since she's identifiably human.

Rating: 2 1/2 / 5 Half-finished portraits

NUMBER 3: 1996 (MIRAMAX)

Portrayed by: Gwyneth Paltrow

Age at time of filming: 24

Despite the fact that Gwyneth Paltrow was an appalling casing choice for Emma Woodhouse (I will be forever salty that they passed over Joely Richardson), and I know there are some who will think me, at best, crazy (sacrilegious, at worst) for ranking 1996’s interpretation of Emma higher than 2020, I actually feel that solidly in the middle is right where this version of the character belongs.

There’s so much wrong with this Emma: she swings from mature to bizarrely infantile at the drop of a hat, much of her script is genuinely tragic, Gwyneth can’t convincingly portray Emma's social naiveté, her accent is overwhelmingly nasal and impossible to listen to, just for starters.

And yet… I don’t hate her. I don’t like her particularly either, but even though much of the dialogue re-working butchered Austen’s prose, there are a lot of things McGrath seems to have gotten right about Emma’s character. Her relationship with Knightley feels comfortable and playful, and, while Emma of the book probably doesn’t really care for Harriet Smith in the spirit of true bosom friendship, I believe she does care about her and wishes to spare her (further) pain. She shows exasperation with Harriet while still being patient with her, which is very much in the spirit of the book. Her concern for Harriet at the ball feels real, and her contrition at Box Hill following Knightley’s rebuke, while not profound, at least feels like contrition and not self-pity.

Perhaps, given the soft-take that the Miramax version is, it shouldn’t be surprising that the biggest faults in characterization rest on awkward writing and the biggest triumphs highlight Emma’s better side. It’s not a very in-depth take on the character, but it at least, is an adequate one.

Rating: 3/5 Half-finished portraits

NUMBER 2: 1996/97 (ITV)

Portrayed by: Kate Beckinsale

Age at time of filming: 23

Those who’ve read my reviews of each adaptation of Emma might be surprised to see ITV’s portrayal of the title character sitting so high on my list. To be frank, it’s a distant second, and she may have stolen the number two spot only because she’s played by Kate Beckinsale and not Gwyneth Paltrow.

In truth, I see a lot of parallels between 1997’s Emma and 2020’s. Both actresses were 23 (or thereabouts) when they played the role, both have extremely childish moments, and both crumple down and burst into tears that don’t feel entirely genuine after Box Hill.

So why is 1997 on the good side of the number 3 spot and 2020 isn’t? I’m not precisely sure. I think it may be because Andrew Davies (and/or Diarmuid Lawrence) at least understood the scale of Emma Woodhouse’s wealth and status. This Emma feels sufficiently self-important, a bit haughty, sure—but she’s also believably naïve. You feel her isolation, you understand her caring relationship with her father, and she’s not as patently rude to Robert Martin compared to the 2020 version (she at least acknowledges his presence when he meets Emma and Harriet in the lane).

Grudging though this favorable placement may be, I can at least acknowledge that Emma herself is the least of my problems with this version, and even though Beckinsale’s acting is a bit sketchy at certain points, she also has some truly great moments, especially her interaction with Robert Martin at the end of the film. This portrayal is consistent, and Emma’s better qualities aren’t overpowered by her negative ones.

Rating: 4/5 Half-finished portraits

Number 1: 2009

Portrayed by: Romola Garai

Age at time of filming: 26

And in a shocking twist—I’m kidding this is neither shocking nor unexpected to anyone who knows me or has read my blog/reviews of the Emma adaptations. Am I totally biased? Probably. I don’t care, this is a completely subjective list. Here, finally—my first and true love as Emma Woodhouse—is Romola Garai. I suppose it’s also not surprising that the first actress I ever saw in the role would still be my favorite a decade on. I just love everything about this interpretation of the character. She rides the very difficult line of being bright, caring and intelligent, while also being completely naïve and lacking in social savvy (in her own age-group at least), coddled, and painfully sure of her own self-importance.

Even though Garai was 25 or 26 at the time (far too old for the character—almost as old as Doran Godwin) her energy and charisma are enough that she’s able to carry it off convincingly. Everything about this Emma screams youth, and when Emma’s child-like social ignorance is her most prominent characteristic, it feels authentic and natural. Equally authentic are her emotions—her love for her family, her dynamic with Knightley, he exasperation, patience, and concern with Harriet. Most of all though, this Emma seems to experience the most maturation in the last quarter of the story. Box Hill really feels like a turning point—not just a chastened young woman, but a true coming-of-age moment. Emma faces a reckoning here that begins a chain reaction culminating in her realization of her feelings for Knightley, and everything from the writing to Garai’s performance conveys the magnitude of this shift in Emma’s life.

This version of the character seems the most… complete to me. Somehow, between Romola Garai’s vibrancy, Sandy Welch’s screenplay and Jim O’Hanlon’s direction, this interpretation takes an extremely divisive character and helps the viewer understand just why everyone in Highbury loves Emma Woodhouse.

Rating: 5/5 Half-finished portraits

~~~~

If you liked this, check out my rankings of Mr. and Mrs. Weston

[teamjacobthot]

i'm thinking about writing a leah fic!! do u have any advice on how to get into her character??

omg and ty for asking!! some of this advice isn’t super specific to leah bc my process is essentially the same for developing any other character smeyer gave 2 lines and threw away lol but here goes:

before nyctophobia I hadn’t written a leah this (relatively) close to canon in a long time, so I checked out every line of dialogue she had in the books to get a better sense of how she expresses herself

I literally just pulled the books up online and ctrl+f searched “Leah.” this was to get into things like her tone and attitude and choice of cuss words and general “leahisms” as I call them. just little stuff like this helped me plant the seeds of what would eventually become her voice in my story

if you loved julia’s performance and the leah in your fic is played by julia, rewatching her movie scenes can help you better visualize her expressions and movements to include them in your fic. her lines in the movies can help w her voice in your fic as well!!!

write her like how would imagine her in the situations you’re presenting and make sure it’s appropriate to the situation. ik this sounds obvious but if you try to stick 100% to what smeyer gave us, it’s going to be really frustrating and difficult to write her

give her emotional range. have her react realistically. if you’re going with the more canon-compliant route, she doesn’t necessarily have to be at eclipse/breaking dawn levels of angry-at-the-world if the situation predates sam imprinting on emily or harry dying. it’s not realistic for a character to just be pissed off all the time without a valid reason imo. like yeah some ppl are just that mad all the time ig but emotional range is a must in the main character of a fic. the story falls flat without it

like with any underdeveloped character written by smeyer, you’ll want to establish the relationships between leah and those who are close to her because this has a direct impact on her as a person

her dynamic w sam is a given if you’re including him but regardless, give her a friend or a few. hone in on her dynamics w her parents and seth as any character’s upbringing/home life is vital to them as a person, especially if the character is still a teen/young adult

your own creativity and experiences are gonna have to do the heavy lifting here ofc. like for example, I too live in a 4 person household where I’m the eldest daughter, my dad has heart issues, my mom takes very little shit and works in healthcare, and I have a younger brother who I try to protect despite him being annoyingly naïve, so the clearwater family was easy to model after my own in some ways. leah’s friends are loosely inspired by some of the girlies from various teen media as well as my own friends. the early stages of her relationship w sam were inspired by josh and mindy from drake & josh. it doesn’t matter where the inspiration comes from as long as the development of those relationships are there

ig what I’m trying to say is that leah’s relationships and experiences have value and they need to have an effect on own values, morals, desires, aspirations, etc. at the end of the day

last but not least, please don’t write her as bella but brown. that’s boring and uninspired and unrealistic. I’ve seen this a thousand times and it pisses me off. canon bella is the way she is bc her mom didn’t care to be a good mom, her dad attempted to connect w her but it resulted in little success, and she didn’t even have a close friend or a sibling to keep her in check prior to meeting the cullens

I’m not saying you have to go the canon-compliant route w leah bc you obviously can do whatever you want, but from what we know of canon, sue cut her hair in solidarity with leah phasing, harry seemed present and caring, seth constantly questioned leah like any sibling would, and leah had at least one confidant in emily before that shit went way left. those details don’t warrant a bella type of personality imo so leah should not be just like bella

leah doesn’t have to be a quiet mousy bookworm to be liked or related to. that shit’s dated anyway. leah can be messy or quick to jump to conclusions or cocky or funny or anxious or whatever, but the situation should warrant the reaction, above all. we’ll love her anyway

ty again for the ask and tag me when your fic is up! also if you need any clarification just lmk bc this is kind of a mess lmao

[joshstambourine]

What Friends Do pt. 2

Warning: Cursing

Word Count: 2954

Synopsis: Josh and Jake are surprised when an old friend stumbles back into their lives, taking their world by storm with old feelings, new feelings, and problems they never would have expected.

Josh Kiszka x Fem!Reader x Jake Kiszka

Jake laid in his bed, blankets wrapped around him tightly as his eyes just lingered on the ceiling above him. He didn’t want to be awake. He didn’t want to be continuously stuck staring. Something though just wouldn’t let him sleep tonight. In a smooth movement Jake turned to lay on his side with his eyes closed, it only lasted for a moment as they soon opened again to look at the clock beside him reading 2:42 AM. Not all that late no but certainly late if you cuddled into bed at 10:30 pm, this fact made Jake let out a low groan in annoyance. 

‘What is going on with me tonight?’ Jake wondered to himself, as he moved to sit up straight. He began rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. Jake never had this much trouble sleeping usually, of course he wasn’t quite like Josh who was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but he’d normally be out within twenty minutes.

Looking around the dark room, Jake eventually reached out to turn on his side lamp. The light blinding for a brief moment, but Jake's eyes adjusted as he made his way to his feet. In nothing but boxers he made his way from his bedroom to the kitchen, if he was going to be awake he was going to enjoy it at least. Jake opened a couple of cupboards and began to pour himself a glass of whiskey.

Back against the counter he began to take a small sip, but was interrupted by the sound of his phone chiming from the living room where he normally left it to charge. His brows furrowed a little, ‘Why is someone texting me so late…?’ He wondered to himself, moving towards the living room. Jake planted himself on the couch and his legs kicked up on one end with his head at the other.

Unknown Number

(Received 1:43 am) Hey Jake! It's (Y/N) sorry to text so late, but I just wanted to make sure I sent you a text before I forgot. It was really nice to see you guys today! Hopefully we can get together sometime soon!

Clearly an email was what the notification sound was actually for but Jake chose to ignore it. Jake moved to take another sip of his whiskey as he contemplated whether or not he should bother responding. It felt like forever since they had seen each other let alone spoken; he knew well that he had changed as a person and that more than likely she had as well. This (Y/N) wasn't the same girl he had fallen head over heels for in high school.

It was easier to tell himself that than to really believe it unfortunately; his mind quickly pulled him back to how her eyes had met his earlier. Jake felt like (Y/N)’s eyes were full of so much love as she looked at him… but was he only imagining it? Jake felt like he had been staring at the text for hours by the point he decided to toss his phone back to the side.

Taking a bigger swig of the drink, Jake began to push his hand through his hair, thinking about the few memories her scent had trudged up into his mind. To Jake’s surprise he could still envision the old her when he closed his eyes, he supposed that old habits were harder to get rid of then he would care to admit.

A small memory slipped into view of (Y/N) as she walked ahead of him down a beaten down path in the woods. Summer sun making her skin sparkle, she lightly turned to look back at him with a small laugh. A ratty black Janis Joplin t-shirt hung over her shoulders, it was something that Jake could always remember her wearing. A lit cigarette smoldering between her fingers as she cheerfully took a drag. The sight made him wonder now if (Y/N) still smoked, Josh and her had started around the same time after a friend of theirs stole a pack from his dad. Josh had since quit knowing how much it was ruining his voice. With how crisp (Y/N)’s voice was he had to imagine that she must have given the terrible habit up.

(Y/N)’s smile brought him to another moment, he could see clearly in his mind’s eye as Josh spun her in the middle of the kitchen while they were trying to make dinner. Jake was there, but at the time he kept to himself… leaving Josh alone with her to enjoy their time. (Y/N)’s eyes were always so full of joy when she was with Josh. 

The laugh that left (Y/N) soft lips was slowly drowned out by the sound of heavy rain, his view becoming one of her standing in the middle of the rain, completely drenched but laughing as she danced alone to the music she seemed to always have playing in her head. A sudden picture of (Y/N) standing before him in a drenched floral gown, her voice filling his ears, “Jake?” He could picture her uttering, with a saddened look in her eyes.

"Jake?" Called her sweet voice again, this immediately caught Jake's attention, he quickly turned to his side. Music played loudly overhead, his gaze fixing on (Y/N) who was suddenly dressed in a black lace dress that fell just below her knees. “Are you listening?” (Y/N) asked him.

"Huh? What did you say (Y/N)?" Jake quickly responded with a shake of his head.

(Y/N) let out a little laugh, "I asked you if you wanted to dance?" She repeated to him, wearing a soft smile. (Y/N) was so beautiful at this dance. Jake could remember that he had a hard time keeping his eyes off of her, the way her dress fit, the way she had done her makeup, even the way she chose to wear her hair, it was all so perfect.

Ah… Jake was at the spring dance again.  

His eyes moved to take in the sight of her outstretched hand. Jake could recall being a little frazzled, though he couldn’t quite remember what he had been looking at beforehand that made this gesture so surprising. It took a second but soon a wide smile came across Jake’s lips, "I'd love to!" He said eagerly. Taking her hand as he felt his cheeks go a soft pink, "oh… wait, what about your date?" He slowly asked. Both (Y/N) and Jake came with different people to that dance,

"Ah, he went to find a spot to smoke a little while ago." (Y/N) softly mused, tucking her hair behind her ear. “He’ll probably be back soon but I just wanted to take this opportunity.” They would find out later that both of their dates had ditched the party together to hook up. Right now however, (Y/N) held tight to Jake's hand as she led him out to the middle of the gym that doubled as a dancefloor when the school saw fit.

Looking back, it was beyond cliché that it was the song that played, some might say meme worthy but of course it was Wonderwall by Oasis playing over head as Jake had his first slow dance with (Y/N). Jake could remember how nervous he was as he placed his hand on her side, unsure if he was holding her too tight. (Y/N) seemed to have no issue placing her hand on his shoulder with a friendly smile across her lips. It was a lot of awkward shuffling at first, Jake unsure where to look, and (Y/N) only smiling when their eyes did meet. 

Jake realized now that she could tell how nervous he was, the way she had begun to sing along with a serious look in her eye was all to make him chuckle a little. Even back then (Y/N)’s voice was something magical to listen to. The sound of it made Jake relax a little; he was completely caught up in the way her lips moved. His own lips would curl into a smile when she would close her eyes and become entirely enthralled in the music. Jake always frowned when he remembered just how sweaty his palms had gotten, and even more wistful when he thought about just how much tighter he wanted to hold her hand in this moment.

This wasn’t the last slow dance Jake had shared with (Y/N). In fact he always made a point of dancing with her at these kinds of things, because frankly, the times Jake shared with (Y/N) were some of the best moments he'd end up having at the school dances. 

Of course also getting to watch Josh and (Y/N) pick the most outrageous songs to dance poorly to was also an astounding highlight of everyone's night.

As that dance came to a close, neither of them pulled away very quickly. Jake just stared down at (Y/N) with gentle eyes, and she stared back up at him with a warm smile. Jake knew that he didn’t want to let go of her hand yet, that he loved the feeling of her fingers being laced with his. “Hey (Y/N)?” Jake lightly started,

(Y/N) was already looking at him, and responded with a light, “Yes Jake?” 

“I…” he started, trying to muster up the courage to tell her how he felt, but Jake just couldn't do it. At the time he was so filled with self doubt that he couldn’t imagine her ever feeling the same towards him, “I’m… sure Josh would probably love a dance too.” He tells her weakly, immediately beating himself up on the inside. 'What was that…?' He remembered thinking to himself; when Jake was laying in bed later that night he would think about all the suave things he could have said instead.

(Y/N) gave a nod in agreement, "Yeah you're probably right…! His date seems to be off with every other guy tonight." She utters, looking across the room at a blonde girl dancing with someone who clearly wasn't Josh. "Thanks for the dance, Jake!" (Y/N) said in a sing-song way, her hand lightly running down his arm, "I'll see ya in a little bit?"

Jake gave a weak smile, and an enthusiastic head nod "y-yeah, of course! See ya later…." He uttered. Finally releasing (Y/N)’s hand just to watch her walk off through the crowd. Even then Jake felt like he could never compare to Josh; that (Y/N) would choose Josh over him every single time.

Those memories were always difficult to even just graze over, especially after everything else that would happen later. Jake could feel his heart get heavy as the scene began to change. The music was still playing loudly in the gym, he could hear it despite standing in the middle of the parking lot. Jake had come outside to look for his date, she had never come back from the washroom and being as naïve as he was, he hoped that maybe she went outside for a smoke. Instead he found a tearful (Y/N) sitting on the hood of his car. 

(Y/N) sat slumped over her one knee while the other leg dangled down, she was smoking a half finished cigarette and looking at the ground. All Jake could remember thinking as he approached her was. ‘Where on earth are her shoes?’

(Y/N) was almost always barefoot and this was no exception.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Jake called out lightly, gaining her attention rather quickly.

“Oh… hey Jake…” she responded in a half hearted way, returning to take another drag of her cigarette. 

Jake frowned as he heard her say his name in such a sad way, “What’s up? You sound upset…” He lightly asked, coming to sit beside her on the hood of his car.

(Y/N) shook her head a little, “Ah… Alex is gone.” She stated, referring to her date whose car was indeed missing from the parking lot now. Jake furrowed his brows a little, he couldn’t believe that Alex would just take off without a word --- of course he figured out why later, but at this moment it burned him up a little.

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Jake told her honestly, beginning to scratch the back of his head, “If it makes you feel any better I think Lindsay is gone too…” He muttered, referring to the girl he had asked last minute to the dance.

(Y/N) was quick to look at him with her brows furrowed, “No that doesn’t make me feel any better!” She exclaimed, “I have to beat up a bitch now.” She was quick to say. (Y/N) despite being the same age as Jake always seemed to be so protective of him; Jake really couldn’t say that he hated that fact even now. 

Jake laughed a little as she said this, “It’s okay (Y/N)...” he sighed, “I knew she wasn’t really that into me from the beginning.” He shrugged, trying not to seem all that bothered. Jake always tried to seem put together when it came to being around (Y/N) but things like this always were a blow to his self-esteem. 

(Y/N) shook her head clearly unhappy with this news, “Jake, you definitely deserve better than her anyways.” She tells him, taking another deep inhale from her cigarette. “You’re way too good of a guy to be treated in such a shitty way.” She tells him with smoke pouring from her lips, still slightly shaking her head.

Jake watched (Y/N) with a small smile, he was happy that she thought that of him anyways. “You really think so…?” He lightly asked.

(Y/N) gave an enthusiastic nod, “Of course I do! You’re handsome, funny, and charming.” She tells him seriously, turning her focus to him. “You deserve someone who loves all that about you---  someone that loves everything about you.” She told him with a smile. 

He gained a little bit of courage, his gaze becoming focused on the moon. “Do you love everything about me…?” Jake asked, it was a forward question of course, but he wanted to know.

(Y/N) seemed to raise a brow, surprised by his asking. Her arm quickly came out to pull him into a headlock, “Of course I do! That’s what friends are supposed to do!” She laughed, “And then make fun of you mercilessly for being such an amazing person.”

Jake had to stop himself from frowning in that moment, giving a weak laugh; he should have known that would be her answer. “Yeah I guess it is huh…” he uttered, moving to place his hand over hers, his thumb brushing over her soft knuckles.

(Y/N) looked over at him, she must have been able to tell that her answer didn’t quite suffice as she began to give a lopsided expression. She just couldn’t resist taking another puff before saying anything though. Jake couldn’t help but shake his head a little, “Why are you doing that?” He lightly asks her, causing her to look at him quizzically.

“Doing what?”

“Smoking.” Jake said sternly, he always hated seeing her or his brother smoking. “You know it's terrible for you.” He continued.

“Well fuck Jake, I didn’t realize you cared so much.” (Y/N) laughed, as her arm on him lessened its grip. “They're just addicting, I don’t know what to tell you.” She admitted, tossing the remainder to the ground.

Jake would shake his head at that moment, “You’re an idiot.” He told her.

“Hey! I just told you I loved everything about you, you don’t need to be so mean about it.” (Y/N) responded loudly, she clearly knew he was right… but oh how she hated being wrong.

“If you’re ever going to get into music you’ll need your voice you can’t just fuck it up by smoking that garbage.” Jake continued to scold, recalling the look she gave him. It was a look that really expressed how she felt about getting into music… a strong disdain.

“Y’know Jake… not everyone wants to get into music like you.” (Y/N) told him pointedly, “Some of us have other dreams.” She continued, with a hate filled look. Thinking about it made Jake upset still, he knew how heavily (Y/N) was being strong armed into music by her family at the time… she didn’t need him to add to it. (Y/N) recoiled her arm, bringing it to sit on her lap. 

“I’m sorry (Y/N), I just don't---” Jake could recall starting, hand moving to take hers.

All of a sudden Jake’s eyes had snapped open staring at the ceiling of his apartment, sun pouring through the curtains in an inhumane way --- he had fallen asleep. Sluggishly he sat up, running his fingers through his slightly knotted hair while he searched for his phone with the other, ‘what time is it…?’ he wondered, knowing he had to meet with Josh for eleven… or twelve Jake’s time.

Jake cradled his phone in his palm, seeing the time was 10 am. That was a relief at least. He also noticed a new text.

Josh

(Delivered 9:30 am) Okay so hopefully it’s cool but I invited (Y/N) to tag along at 11! If it isn't… well sucks to suck I guess.

The sight of it made Jake let out a light drone, falling to lay back on the couch again. “...Well fuck.” He uttered.

[dramatic-squirrel]

Damianette December Day 4- Flowers

Mishaps and surprise circumstances might keep the two of them apart for a while, but they’ll always find each other in the end. That’s it, the entire synopsis for the story. I saved you the time of actually reading it right there.

@daminette-december2019-2020

Marinette could barely contain her excitement. Finally she was joining to see Damian again. Sometimes, their relationship was too difficult. He had his duties as Robin in Gotham and she had her duties in Paris as Ladybug. But, it was moments like these that made it worth it. She wasn’t sure that absence made the heart grow fonder but she was sure that any chance to spend time with her boyfriend was worth the wait.

Except there was still something stopping them from meeting. The news reached her while she was making her way to the exit. A t.v. screen with a news channel was playing.

“Breaking new. Poison Ivy and Harley are robbing the Gotham United Bank. They appear to have let the women and children go but are keeping all other individuals as hostages.” It wasn’t too long after when Damian called her.

“I’m so sorry Angel, I need to help with the situation. We’re already short on back up since Cass is in China, Gordon is with Grayson on their vacation and Duke is handling another case with Fox. Where all too busy dealing with this sudden new problem that I don’t think anyone can pick you up from the airport.” She understood, it was a matter of circumstances. So, she wasn’t disappointed, just a bit sad she wouldn’t see him yet. Then a thought occurred to her.

“Do you need any help? I heard Ladybug’s in town.” It would be like killing two birds with one stone, until he brought up a very good point that she had forgotten.

“I would love to have you help us, but we both agreed that Ladybug shouldn’t appear anywhere but in Paris for the time being. Since, if your not in Paris, Hawkmoth might attack while Chat Noir is by himself. I know you said it’s not a problem because you have the horse miraculous but, if you can’t get away while we’re fighting Poison Ivy and Harley then Chat will be all on his own.”

“Yeah…” she couldn’t hold in her sigh of exasperation. “You’re right, I just wish you weren’t.”

“I’ll meet you later at your hotel for dinner. We should be done by then. Alright Angel.”

“Alright, I’ll just grab a taxi. Remember to stay safe Dami.”

“You too Angel.” They hung up and she left to airport into the unusually bright Gotham day. Thankfully she managed to track down a cab in under ten minutes, her ladybug luck always helping her in convenient ways.

While the taxi took her to her hotel, she decided to look up the news on her phone. She knew he’d be alright, he was amazing at what he did still, she worried. 30 minutes later the taxi pulled up by a curb and stopped. “We’re here miss.”

And it was partly her fault, she should have looked more closely to where she was before she paid and got out of the cab but, Marinette had no idea where she had been dropped off. All she knew was that it wasn’t her hotel. Before she could turn around to get back into the taxi, the driver already drove off breaking the speed limit several times over.

It seemed like it was going to be one of those days. One mishap after another. She took out her phone so she could check to see where she was and how to get to her hotel. Marinette managed to get the general direction she needed to walk in before the next mishap happened and her battery died. A long plane ride and obsessively checking your phone was bound to make the battery run out. 

Thankfully she knew where to go at least, and she should have plenty of time before she actually met Damian. “Well, Tikki, it looks like we’re going on an unplanned adventure.”

“That’s right Marinette!” the kwami’s positive attitude was always infectious. “There’s always a bright side to things. Maybe you’ll find treasure on your way.” It was hopeful, practically naïve thinking, but sometimes you just needed that kind of thinking in life. 

Her energy restored, she set off. For the next twenty minutes things went fairly well. She had travelled light since she was only staying in Gotham for about a week and a half, so there was no heavy suitcase to haul around. The driver had at least dropped her off on the safer side of town, so she didn’t encounter any muggers. And the weather held so there wasn’t any sudden rain storms.

As she passed by a food stand she decided to grab a bit to eat for her an Tikki. Just a simple bagel and nothing up to par to what her papa could make but delicious none the less. It wasn’t until she made it all the way to a desert park that she realized she was lost again. She couldn’t remember the route that she had seen on her phone but she knows she would have remembered a park showing up because it would have been a nice place to take a rest stop for her and Tikki.

In the end, the conclusion was that she was lost, in Gotham, without a phone. If she had the precise coordinates to teleport to she would use Kaalki but only Max would remember obscure details like the geographical coordinates of his hotel.

“I guess my luck is starting to run out finally Tikki.”

“It’s not that bad Marinette. Let’s take a rest first and then ask someone for directions. I’m sure they’ll be willing to help.”

“Maybe, but let’s be a bit picky about who we chose so we have to end up fighting some random kidnapper.” Marinette made her way to a park bench and placed her carry on next to her. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone here Tikki, why don’t you come out of the purse for a but.”

It wasn’t hard to see why the park was empty. Most of the foliage was dead still, winter was still on it’s way out especially in a town like Gotham where it was naturally cooler than other cities. As Tikki enjoyed exploring whatever she could find in the desolate park, Marinette let her mind wander from thought to thought. Physically she was fine but mentally she was exhausted. 

So she thought about a lot of things. The newest pastry her parents had made for the bakery, what Alya was probably doing right now, how she was going to solve the tricky part of the next design for Jagged’s outfit that he commissioned. 

She became too invested in her thought that she didn’t notice the person coming up from behind her until it was already to late. 

“Marinette?”

“Gah!” she fell forwards and subsequently off the bench. Her surprise last only a moment as she soon recognized the voice. “Damian? What’re you doing here? I thought you’d still be dealing with Poison Ivy and Harley?”

He had a sheepish expression on his face. “Turns out they were robbing the bank because the owner was counterfeit money. These situations usually end pretty quickly since they hand themselves in or escape as soon as my father finds the evidence they left out for him. Unfortunately we don’t always know when they’ll do their own brand of vigilant work and when they’re just committing a crime. How did you end up all the way here though? You’re hotel is about 40 minutes from here.”

It was her turn to appear embarrassed. “I must have gone the wrong way at some point while walking to my hotel. You see, my phone died and the taxi dropped me off at the wrong spot and so, I was resting for a few minutes before setting off again. It’s crazy that you managed to find me here of all places those.”

“Crazy or luck? If you aren’t too tired, would you care to join me for a walk through the park?” She was about to suggest they go somewhere with a better view if they were going to go walking when she noticed that they park had changed around her at some point.

Before where it was mostly barren, it had magically grown around her. She could see tulips and daffodils, snowdrops and lily of the valleys, primroses and peonies all throughout the park. “What the- how did the park end up like this all of a sudden?”

“I may have managed to convince Harley to convince Ivy to help me out. It was actually lucky that we managed to find you on the way to your hotel. Apparently this park is between where the robbery took place and where yout hotel is, so when I set off to find you with Harley and Ivy helping me under a “favor for Robin” we didn’t expect to see you so soon. This is just an apology for having to stand you up at the airport.”

She almost started crying. “You don’t need to apologize for that I understood the situation.” 

“Then think of it as a thank you for coming all the way here to see me?”

She pulled him forward and before he knew it she kissed him. It was quick and almost too short but sweet nonetheless. “Deal, as long as next time you come to Paris I get to give you something as amazing as this.”

[fymagnificentwomcn]

Do you think that if Hatice hadn't ended up marrying Ibrahim she maybe could have been a little happier? Or at least lived longer? I always felt that her "love" for him was much more a kind of obsession than actual love and in the end being granted permission from Suleyman to be with him ended up being bad for her mental health since before their wedding she wasn't as anxious, paranoid, arrogant and jealous as she later became. Maybe if she married someone else she may not have fallen in love with them, but maybe she would have been a better mother to her children?

I honestly don’t think so. Of course a marriage of two traumatised people IS always a risky thing because obviously double dose of trauma and emotional problems is worse than when we have only one person with issues in a marriage, but loveless marriage would have destroyed Hatice much sooner, and actually it wasn’t the marriage that was the destruction of Hatice. Yes, it brought her a lot of pain with his betrayal, but ultimately it was one aspect of pain in her life that ultimately did get resolved, unlike others, which intensified.

Hatice is a clearly damaged person already at the beginning of the story. She’s a very sensitive soul that would always be troubled in this system. In her young age, she already had to witness the reign of her bloody father and was forced to marry an elderly man that died soon after the marriage. Even Süleyman is traumatised after dealings with his father and when he witnessed Selim’s brutal rise to power that involved eradicating all males in the family except Süleyman himself. Hatice feels trapped in the palace and feels suffocated in it.

While Ibrahim is made of sterner stuff, as we may say, and also does enjoy rising in the ranks in Ottoman palace, we know he also feels trapped and suffocated here, and that never truly adapted to Ottoman reality. While not so much sensitive person who abhors power games, he nevertheless also feels out of place here, also because he always feels more connected with Western culture. They are both outsiders actually. And this is what ultimately binds them together .Hatice, unlike say an ambitious princess like Sah, does not want power – she only wants to live peacefully with her children and man she loves. In this system of constant struggle, sometimes almost Darwinian (the whole open succession hello) to be on top, she might feel an outsider for that. Hatice in S1 IS also a naïve, sheltered idealist. She has her dreams of ideal future.

After (amost miraculous) acceptance of her marriage to Ibrahim, she seems to have it all, especially when she gets pregnant. But then everything is shattered when she miscarries and this is the event that begins her emotional descent arc.

However, she did have mental issues before that. She tried to kill herself when she was supposed to marry the man of Hafsa’s choosing. She didn’t want to feel trapped even more by again people deciding her fate thanks to all soulless, pragmatic, harsh rules.

Hatice was a depressed, anxious person from the very start of the series ,and she could also be short-tempered and impatient from very beginning.

And her being forced to marry someone else or not marry anyone would have likely made her to what Gevherhan did in MYK- decide to take her fate into her own hands FOR ONCE.

Maybe Ibrahim wasn’t a perfect choice due to his own emotional baggage that later made him commit stupid things, but he was still a good choice because she loved him, he loved her and he did understand her and also tried to be a source of support even though all their issues also caused him to be similarly a source of pain to her.

However, not matter how much Hatice and Ibrahim tried, the power struggle in the palace affected them because neither of them - she as member of dynasty and him as important official -  could ever be free from it. Ibrahim and Hürrem’s rivalry that intensified from S2 onwards affected it – we might say that neither Hürrem nor Ibrahim wanted to purposefully hurt Hatice, but she got caught in crossfire nevertheless. Obviously, marriage to Hatice meant a lot for Ibrahim’s career in the palace and making it fall apart was the easiest way for Hürrem to remove Ibrahim. We discussed it a bit here.

Similarly, fate also threw difficult things on them – first the miscarriage, then the death of the baby the cause of which was never determined (whether the poison or simple Sudden Infant Death Syndrome), but Hatice blames herself and thinks herself to be a killer of her child. Even once Ibrahim begins suspecting Hürrem because he figures out there was poison on his notebook that later could be carried to a child, who didn’t have such a strong organism as his father, he never shares this with Hatice not to re-open old wounds. Then Suleyman’s heart attack and her mother’s illness, all the intensification of power struggles that re-merged with Hatice trusting Hürrem again and then being disappointed again when Hürrem used sick Valide to frame Mahi while at the same sitting with Hatice and wishing her mum a speedy recovery (and Hatice did scold Mahi at first believing it was her), also some of earlier Mahi’s behaviour too… the turn of S2/S3 is very traumatising for Hatice. Death of her mother, followed by Ibrahim’s infidelity revelation together with manner of Hürrem revealing it that left Hatice in no doubt it was done to remove Ibrahim and that Hürrem was thus glad about his cheating (and again knowing that it is what Hürrem has dreamt of for long), so the final nail to their friendship’s coffin, it all caused a huge blow.Ultimately, the problem that does get solved in the end is the marital problem. Ibrahim ultimately does wake up even before he learns Nigar is pregnant (what Nigar anticipated actually) because in the end he DOES love his wife. He knows how much he hurt Hatice and is ready to face the consequences.. When Matrakçi said Hatice loves him a lot and would eventually forgive him, while Hürrem would surely use her opportunity and tell Süleyman: Ibrahim said: “What does it matter if I lose everything or not? I’ve once renounced ranks for Hatice. Nothing is worthy next to her. The only thing that worries me is Hatice, her broken heart. When she looked at me, I wanted the ground to swallow me whole”.

Again it’s Hatice’s choice to forgive him and neither Hürrem nor anyone should mock her for it. And unlike Süleyman, who constantly promises Hürrem to be faithful, and then goes enjoying making her jealous, Ibrahim does not intend to hurt Hatice ever again and I believe he wouldn’t  have even if he had lived much longer.

And then we see them at their best, most mature, most healthy relationship now they’ve dealt with their issues and decided to start anew no matter what. I think part of Hatice’s anxiety was being centered around her ideal, dream life and once cracks appeared (first crack was again the miscarriage), the issues began popping up, and she felt like world was slipping from her fingers. It is a psychological phenomenon, when sometimes big storm cleanses you because you give up on perfection, while a small crack can drive you crazy and be a nagging trigger.

Same with Ibrahim, who as Hatice’s husband and more and more successful vizier, began seeing that no matter his talents and achievements he’s still considered inferior to members of dynasty (including Süleyman ranting at beginning of S2 to Hürrem how nobody, including Ibrahim, is equal to him in Ibrahim’s earview). Hatice’s remark about him being servant (she obviously does not see him as that) would be perhaps part of normal marital quarrel otherwise, something thrown in anger, but for him it was a trigger. His relationship with Nigar was an escape from it all – unlike his relationships with Hatice and Süleymann, the dynastic aspect was gone, he was actually with someone inferior and doing something foribidden for damads. He himself believed in that fantasy world he created with Nigar and even remarked to his brother he would like to run away with the woman he loved (aka Nigar) back to Parga, but it was all an illusion. He did TRULY LOVE Hatice, NOT Nigar, but he could not get over at that moment with how much she stood for and was part of the system he abhorred (same with Süleyman). He loves both Hatice and Suly a lot, but at the same time he hates the system they stand for and this conflict drives him a lot in S2 . When he says why Esmanur is his favourite child he remarks that while he loves his children with Hatice, Esmanur is so precious to him because she’s not part of any dynasty he’s subservient to. At the same time he has his crisis with Hatice, he goes through several crises in this aspect with Süleyman too (and again, both conflcts are played at roughly the same time).  All things that would later doom him happened in S2 (things that he was guilty of, not simply blamed for something he didn’t do), he’s far more relaxed and certain of himself and his place in S3 before his death.

And after all problems were dealt with, Hatice’s paranoia concerning Ibrahim’s potential infidelity was healed once and for all. Even when Hürrem tries to scheme again and arranges Ibrahim to meet Nigar by accident in the Marble Pavillon, Hatice does not even intend to check because she trusts him 100% now. They were truly a happy family before Ibrahim’s death.

What destroyed once and for all was Ibrahim’s death and afterwards because it wasn’t just death of a spouse – following this event she effectively lost also another person very close to her – her brother. Of course after such horrible death when her husband’s body was dumped in unnamed grave in the forest and she can’t even go there (I suppose Matrakçi didn’t want to take her there because he was afraid seeing this could only make her despair more) as a result of brutal power games in the palace after which nobody was safe, a sensitive person lost it. Especially since she lost three people to whom she was closest most of out of her family in very close succession – her mother, her husband and her brother. And she had to live under one roof with people responsible for her husband’s death. Mahidevran and Mustafa also were gone to Manisa. She had Sah, who despite all loved her and wanted to help her, but it was of course a difficult relationship, also with some unresolved things. And instead of truly being there for his sister, Süleyman repeatedly made her even harder to heal by removing all traces of Ibrahim and trying to erase him, allowing Hürrem to hold a party in harem during mourning period, marrying her off against her will, ordering her to leave her palace, dismissing her as crazy and not trusting her at all (or again perhaps that’s what he wanted to believe) when Hürrem beat her up, etc. He never tried to understand her or truly talk to her, all he did was a series of actions that claimed were to make her heal, but were in fact cold orders that often were to made him feel better than actually help Hatice (but he could fool himself he is trying to help of course).

Then of course all injustices that befell Mustafa and his and Mahidevran’s despair, feeling that indeed Mustafa would be next and he would face Ibrahim’s fate made her decide for last desperate step.

And it’s again telling when Hatice comes to Süleyman following Hürrem’s disappearance – she says she finally has her brother again because now they experience the same and he finally understands her. For a short while, she looked happier because she finally had her brother back.Then again when she had her suicide speech he was again all about WHERE’S HURREM instead of even trying to listen to his sister’s words.

I think she was okay mother before Ibrahim’s death and later she was non-functional due to depression and since she could never consult a therapist or even leave this place forever (then she would be alone forever anyway), it could only lead to tragedy.

Hatice is precisely a tragic character, a sensitive soul which the palace life totally destroyed and all she wanted was to be happy with her family. She was a princess yet she could never be free or feel safe. Marrying for love was the only time she truly got what she wanted out of life and without it she would not only have even that. I think that even if she married someone she doesn’t love, so she would not be scared of losing them/would not suffer that much because of their loss would not make her be happier. She could even look at her sister, Beyhan, who didn’t marry for love and whose husband was executed for serious stuff, but yet she lost her brother forever and underwent serious trauma. Gevherhan in MYK also didn’t marry Topal out of love, but she nevertheless decided to create a happy family with him and tried to cherish what she had, but still she was humiliated by her brother, who again executed her (traitor)husband for a show after finally having paid attention to his neglected sister a day before, and her son was left without a father, their whole life uprooted. No matter who she married, Hatice could never be free of betrayal, death and power schemes, so at least she got some true love.

I think that it’s better to have something in your life even if loss than is more painful than if we don’t care about it than live more “secure”, especially since in Hatice’s case she could never have a peaceful life by the mere fact she belonged to the Ottoman dynasty and all its upheavals and conflicts had to somewhat always affect her.

And when it comes to betrayal, it was Süleyman’s, not Ibrahim’s, betrayal that Hatice could never recover and heal from.

- Joanna (also thanks to my friend and biggest Hatice fan & expert @queen-deter , who discussed this question with me 🥰)

[kiatheinsomniac]

Unwoven Fate III

[MY MASTERLIST]

@fuckinherondale​ (thought you’d want the tag)

(Y/n) urged the horse forward as the church steeples and guard towers of Forlì came into view, hearing the hard thrumming of the creature's hooves become quieter as the ground gave way to softer marshland. She remembered this village outside of the city's walls, remembered her mother teaching her how to horse ride on its outskirts. She gripped the reigns tighter, biting her cheek to suppress all the emotions that she decided she could deal with later; for now, she just had to find her old home.

She wondered if she even had a home now. Either her old familial home was now abandoned or inhabited by a new family and her Aunt and Uncle's villa no longer felt like home.

She had lived within the walls, far from the citadel (well far for a child to walk anyway), that much she could remember. She could recall one of the guard towers being visible from her bedroom and that the villa had a small courtyard in the centre with a mosaic on the floor.

As she approached the city gates, she made her way to a stall where she paid the boy to watch over her horse for a few hours. Patting down her dress, she made her way into the city, trying her best to not look as lost as she felt, deciding to follow the wall and see if anything seemed familiar to her. She hadn't been here in over a decade but she was alone now and she needed answers.

Always more questions without enough answers to satisfy them.

People bustled around on the streets, children playing, women running errands, men working. (Y/n) pulled her cloak around her, eyes flittering around. She was sure that enough had changed over the past decade and a bit for her to be at a disadvantage in relying on familiarity. But she hungered for answers and the only lead that she had was this villa: confronting her remaining family was out of the question. What if it put her in danger? Surely they loved her too much to harm her? Why did they have her parents killed? Why was she spared? Why did her Aunt talk about them like that?

Why? Why? Why? And absolutely no 'because...' to accompany it. Biting her cheek again, she realised that she had never felt like such a naïve and vulnerable child in her life until now.

After an hour of fruitless searching, she decided that enough was enough and set towards the church, deciding to ask for directions. Approaching the grand building, she stepped into the large, open doors. Her footsteps starting to echo around the room, seeing people seated on the pews or kneeling before lit candles, their prayers to loved ones lost. Slackening a moment, she approached the racks of candlesticks, watching the flames dance.

Picking up one, she used it to light another two on the front row, placing the candle back where she had plucked it from. Her breath caught for a moment as her eyes glanced up for a moment to the stained glass of the holy virgin that was showering her in an array of colours.

"I'll find out what happened to you. . . What happened to us. . . I promise." She whispered before stepping away, seeing a priest walking in. He was old: his hair white, posture stout and skin marked by time, leaving lines of stories and memories upon his face.

"Excuse me," (Y/n) started, approaching him, "I'm a little lost and was wondering if you could give me directions." Best to ask the old people, they were more likely to know the way; past the age of travelling, they must have stayed put for some years at the least.

"Of course! Where would you like to go?" He smiled.

"I'm looking for the (L/n) family villa, well, it may not have been called that for some years." She put forward.

"That place?" He seemed taken aback, "Why would a lady like you need to go to such a tragic site?"

"My cousin survived the attack there years ago, poor girl. She wants to find out what became of her old home but couldn't bring herself to face it again. I offered to go in her place." She lied. Her Aunt and Uncle would have people looking for her soon and she didn't want to be found. Best to not leave any leads behind. They would find the innkeeper soon and she didn't want anyone following her. She had to try and cover her tracks somehow.

"Oh, the poor child, I remember the news of that attack. I never knew the family personally but they lived near the wall towards the east." He continued to give her the specific address before they parted ways with a blessing from him on behalf of her and her 'cousin'.

Within minutes, she was standing before her old family home. The flowers around it were well-kept and she could see that same mosaic through the gates. The columns, arches and crème-coloured stone were all just as she remembered.

"May I speak to one of the residents here?" She asked a guard, seeing their distrustful glances, never having seen her before. "I lived here before this family and I was just wondering if I could look around, for memory's sake." She smiled softly, wanting her pure intentions to get across. One of the guards turned to the gate and called for the gardener who was instructed to fetch someone.

Within a few minutes, a finely-dressed woman with dark locks and tanned skin was making her way to the gates, eyeing the young woman who stood before her. (Y/n) was very aware that she looked less refined as was expected of a noblewoman. Her hair was not styled and was rather wind-swept from the journey, the end of her dress stained from the splatters of mud from the marshes.

"I hear that you lived here once." She began. (Y/n) bowed her head respectfully.

"Yes, signora." She replied, "I merely wanted to revisit some memories. . . for closure. I lived here as a child."

"The child who survived the attack?" She raised a brow.

"Yes, signora." The woman seemed to think for a moment before motioning her hand to the guards.

"Let her in."

While being allowed to wander the rooms and halls, (Y/n) found herself approaching the drawing-room last. She knew that it would be a difficult place to face but she also knew that she needed to find something, anything. Everywhere else had given her nothing so far. But she had to face the tragic room eventually and when she did, she felt her throat close up.

Suddenly, she was a child again, in the maidservant's arms, crying out for her parents. She could see her father's body kicked to the floor and her mother falling to her knees with a dagger in her chest. Her teeth sank down into her cheek as tears welled in her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She shuddered as she took a moment to compose herself, unsure if she was talking to herself, her parents or the owner's wife who was following her around. "This is where it happened." Her fingers quickly dashed under her eyes.

"Don't apologise, dear." The woman consoled, hesitantly resting her hand on the younger woman's shoulder.

"I should be on my way now." She sniffled, getting her emotions in check at last, "I'm sorry if I've been a bother to you." She felt a weight in her chest at the lack of answers she had found here, not knowing where to go next, finding herself at a dead end. 

"Not at all, I couldn't deny you something so simple." The woman replied as she led her out of the house, back across the courtyard.

But something stopped (Y/n) in her tracks, a feeling like a pulse, a calling. She turned around again, looking around the courtyard to the mosaic with its image of an eagle. Her feet seemed to carry her before it and she felt something surge in her veins, a familiar feeling. That odd feeling where she could mute the world of colour, see it be reduced to dark blues and greys.

Air filled her lungs as she muted out all the world's bright colours only something was different this time, something new. There was a pattern on the mosaic, highlighted in gold and shimmering. Two halves of an image facing out from each other with one piece in between. She got onto her knees and ran her fingers over the pattern, hearing the woman ask if she was alright.

(Y/n) pressed her hands to the art, pushing down on the two outer pieces as hard as she could and trying to rotate them. Not having used enough force, she pushed her body forwards and the right one shifted, meeting the image in the middle seamlessly, beginning to show the whole symbol. Now using both hands on the left side, she shifted that into place too and there was a hiss of air as the whole mosaic shifted upwards.

The symbol was one she was sure that she had seen before but couldn't remember where. Like an arrow facing upwards with a pointed curve beneath it.

Fingers digging into the edge of the secret door now, she pulled the piece up and pushed it across the stone floor. There was a shallow compartment beneath it, containing a scroll and something wrapped in cloth.

Her eyes widened and she could have jumped with joy. Something at last! Shoving everything into her bag, she put the mosaic back and turned around to the woman who seemed more than surprised.

"Thank you so much!" She smiled before getting on her way, deciding to leave the city and rest in Florence for the night. She didn't want to stick around Forlì now that people knew she had been there. She needed to learn how to disappear. Looking at her cloak and dress, she knew that it would attract more attention, especially now that travelling was taking its toll on her appearance. It only made her look suspicious. She needed a much plainer outfit.

Making her way to the tailor's by the southern gates, she greeted the man with a smile, seeing a woman in the back organising all the fabrics.

"What can I get for such a fine young lady? Silks imported from the east perhaps? Dyes from beyond Arabia?" He offered.

"I don't have a lot of money." She replied, keeping in mind that she would need to save what coin she had for rooms to rent at night and food to eat, "But I can sell you my cloak and dress along with the coin, it only needs a light wash. I need a peasant's pinafore, a pair of trousers, a plain but warm cloak and some boots.  I can give you 18 florins with my skirt, bodice, shoes and cloak. The material's velvet and the ribbons are silk." She threw in for good value. The man narrowed his eyes at this request and she could see suspicion growing on his face.

"I must ride alone to my betrothed in the countryside and I don't wish to be attacked along the way. People see the clothing and know I own something of value to have stolen from me." She quickly excused.

"Ah, I see. I did think it was quite odd." He replied with a sympathetic smile, "Poor girl."

"I just rode into here to make sure that the sword I have commissioned for our wedding will be done on time." She began making small talk, hoping to erase the man's doubt entirely, "The blacksmith doesn't seem very good at replying to letters." She laughed.

"Well, I'm sure your husband-to-be will love his wedding gift almost as much as he loves you." The man smiled as he led her inside the shop, knowing she would need somewhere to change.

⚜⚜⚜

Within a few minutes, (Y/n) was dressed in a grey pinafore dress with a black cloak, a pair of boots that stopped halfway up her calves and a pair of trousers in her bag.

As she laid her old dress, cloak and shoes over the counter and counted out her coins, she looked up at the tailor who seemed unsatisfied.

"There it is," (Y/n) spoke, hoping to get an answer out of him. He looked up with a frown.

"That's not all of it." He replied.

"We agreed on my dress, shoes, cloak and 18 florins!" She retorted, brows furrowing.

"I want those earrings too." He nodded his head towards her, eyeing up the rubies and pearls that were set in gold. (Y/n) bit her inner cheek.

"If I throw in the earrings you only get 7 florins." She spoke bitterly, knowing that he had backed her into a corner by doing this.

"13 florins."

"How about two florins, no earrings and I run out the gates now?" She clenched her fists, willing them to stop shaking.

"Is it worth your life?" He narrowed his eyes, glancing over her shoulder to a group of patrolling guards.

She could just take off now. Her horse was just outside the gate and she'd be gone before the guards could even get over the first bridge. Or she could play it safe and pay the man what he wanted.

"10 florins and the earrings." She bit out. The man smiled widely, knowing that her earrings were worth an awful lot more than those extra coins anyway.

"Deal." He grinned smugly. (Y/n) took the jewellery off and let one of them slide off the counter and onto the floor in spite.

"Bastard." She hissed as she took her leave, fuming that she had lost so much money for such a cheap disguise. She had intentionally kept her jewellery to sell as a last resort for if she ran out of money - which she knew was bound to happen eventually. Either way, she still had the broach in her bag and two rings. The string of pearls around her neck was out of the question; they had been her mother's. 

With an aura like a thunderstorm, she collected her horse and began riding south to Florence, feeling hunger start to bite at her stomach. As she did, something loomed over her which told her that getting answers would not be as easy as she originally thought. The new weight in her bag of the scroll and whatever was wrapped in that cloth told her, whispered to her almost, that this wasn't even a glimpse into the truth and her journey was only just about to begin.

[xenetala]

Piofiore: Fated Memories Review

I’ll keep this as spoiler free as possible, but with this game that may be a bit difficult. This is just my thoughts on the game and its quality. This game overall is really well done and if you are familiar with Amnesia Memories, you’ll really enjoy this one.

There are a few things I’d like to give people a heads up on in this one. First, this is a game about the Mafia. While it should be obvious, many people who play otome games may not realize this isn’t like the sweet games such as Kissed by the Baddest Bidder. Please do not play this game if you are sensitive to blood, gore, death, rape, drug abuse, psychological abuse, torture, violence, general crime, and other such themes. While you can play the best routes and avoid too much of this, you will be exposed to some pretty gruesome and brutal things in this game.

The second thing I’d like to give a heads up on is you have to play the routes in a semi set order to unlock things. By this I mean you don’t get to completely choose who you play at first. While this by no means makes the game bad, it’s something to think about before playing. You may not get to choose your favorite boy right off.

If you do play this, I have a recommended play route. I recommend this based on the lore of the world. That’s not to say you have to play this order, but I think it’ll give a better feel for the world.

While you can start with either Dante or Nicola, I’d recommend playing through Dante’s route first and follow his route with Orlock. While Yang is my absolute favorite boy by far, I recommend playing Nicola before Yang. Gilbert’s route you can’t play until you’ve played the other 4 so Dante > Orlock > Nicola > Yang is my recommended order, but Dante > Nicola > Orlock > Yang isn’t a bad order either.

Overall Story

This is a really good story. There’s a lot of absolutely lovable characters in it and I wish there were more routes. I also wish the stories were longer just because of how good the characters are. Even the supporting characters are great. The setting is in Italy during the 1920′s. There are a few references to world events around that time such as World War I, the depression, American prohibition, and several other things that happened around the world.

The game takes a lot of the terms and historical things and puts them in a nice handy dictionary in case the audience isn’t familiar with them. Personally I find all of the references common knowledge, but then I’m also a history buff so that may not be the case.

As far as the plot goes, the basis is you play an MC who grew up in a church in a small mafia run city. Depending on the route, the MC gets captured or rescued by one of the three mafia groups and ends up in their care as a guest. The three groups are the Italian based Falzone, the mixed heritage Visconti, and the Chinese based Lao-Shu.

Each route has a different part of the story and history of the world and the town as well as a different perspective. Some of the routes are more peaceful while others not so much. In all of them, the MC is one I consistently like. Despite being brought up in a quasi Roman Catholic based belief system, she’s quite down to Earth and many times stands up to the mafia so that earns her many points in my book.

The one thing in this game that I feel is a big missed opportunity is the character Roberto De Feo. I would have loved to see him as an option in this game. Especially after playing all of the routes including the hidden one, I feel like he would have made a nice addition to the story.

Characters

This game has a really good set of characters and even the supporting characters are good so I’m going to go over quite a few people in this. I’ll break these down by factions to help keep things orderly. Each character does have a best, good, and tragic ending. Some of them are really good, but the tragic ones to be pretty brutal to play.

Also, a fun note in the CGs you can press a button to hear the character’s comments on the scene.

Falzone Family

Dante Falzone - This is the first route I recommend playing. He’s kind of the ‘canon’ route in this and goes over a lot of the lore of the world. It can get a bit overwhelming to keep up with all of the mythology of the game, but you will need that information for later routes.

He’s introduced as the cold and cruel boss of the Falzone, but in reality he’s more of the slightly cold gentleman. While he can be cruel as evidenced in a torture scene, he’s really very sweet and you see much more of his caring side as the story progresses. I’m not a fan of his route as it is way sweeter than I’d like for a mafia boss, but it is the most romantic one.

In this route the MC spends most of her time confined with Dante and is more of a prisoner than a guest in my opinion. She’s not allowed to roam free much and is quite dependent on Dante. There is a lot of violence in this route and is one of the more gruesome ones in a few places. I actually like his good ending better than the best ending. His tragic end is really sad so beware. It’s not as brutal as others, but it’ll tug your heartstrings. Death can bring more peace than life. 

Leo Cavagnis - While not a love interest, Leo is an adorable character. He’s assigned as the MC’s body guard in anything related to the Falzone family. I would like to have seen him as a romance option just because it’d be nice to have a choice other than only higher ranking mafia members, but even without him being an option he’s a fun character in all of the routes.

Nicola Francesca - He is the underboss for the Falzone family and is Dante’s cousin. I liked his route much more than I thought I would and he is more what you’d expect for a mafia themed game. It is mentioned in all routes a few times that Nicola is more suited to being the boss than the underboss, and I agree with this.

Nicola is presented as a playboy, but though he’s flirty he’s not really a playboy. He has a lot of charisma and appears nice, but there is a cruel side to him. This is showcased in how he treats his men and in a torture scene. His route has almost none of the lore and is refreshing in that fact.

The MC is still more of prisoner in this one, but she’s not as dependent on Nicola. Even though I’d say Nicola is more ruthless than Dante, this route is actually one of the less violent ones. I will warn that his route is predictable and not quite as exciting to play as far as plot twists and such. Despite that, this is a fun route and the MC gets to showcase a bit more strength than in some of the others.

He is really tied to his idea of trying to free Dante from the curse of his blood and duties so Nicola often acts brashly and without really trying to understand others. This makes him quite focused on his own goals. His best ending is a great ending and for sure deserves to be called the best ending. I don’t really care for his good ending as much. While not sad, he’s too much of a mafia boss for the good ending to really fit him. His tragic ending is a work of art.

Giulia Ceste - She is the motherly housekeeper of the Falzone and takes care of the MC a lot when in the company of the Falzone family. While not a big character, she does help create some humor in the routes and is always a welcome addition when things get really serious.

The Church

Just a few notes on this ‘faction’. This group plays different roles in each route and doesn’t really follow a branch of the Christian religions. Even though the set up is implied to be the Roman Catholic branch, the lore behind this church isn’t really clear on things. There’s a relic mentioned and that relic is given all sorts of explanations as to what it is, but in reality very little of this game really follows any specific branch. So, if you find yourself confused on this group that’s normal.

Josef von Rosburg - Josef is a bishop for the church and has varying roles depending on the route you play. For the most part he’s reasonably pious and does things on behalf of what he believes to be the best for the church. Although, as the saying goes the road to hell is paved with the best of intentions.

Orlock - This boy is all cinnamon roll and I did not like his route until I played all endings. Part of the problem I have with his route is he’s so naïve and innocent that he comes off as childlike. After seeing him in some of the other routes I’d had the expectation that he’d be more of a cold hearted assassin than he is.

That I think colored my perceptions too much to fully enjoy this route and is partly why I recommend him as the second one you play. He is a disciple which basically just means he’s an assassin for the church.

He is absolutely devoted to the MC to the point of basically worshiping her and can see no fault in anything she does. This route is one of the more violent ones and uncovers more of the lore of the world. Orlock feels much younger than the MC because of his innocence despite being able to kill just about anyone.

The good route I liked a lot more than the best route in this one and that’s partly because he didn’t feel as much like a child in that end. The tragic route though changed my mind about his story a bit though. I love his tragic route. It is brutal and merciless, but you see him as an adult and not like a child. Plus, I’m a sucker for a good gut wrenching tragedy that just makes you question why you’d put yourself through the torture of reading it.

Elena Croce - This girl is the MCs best friend and someone she grew up with in the church. Her role varies depending on the route, but she’s generally a quite girl and is good at cooking.

Sister Sofia - She is one of the sisters in the church and is the mother figure of the story. She knows MC’s history and why she’s so important, but keeps things secret from her to prevent her from carrying a heavy burden.

Oliver Haas - Sadly this is another one that doesn’t have a romance option. Oliver is the Visconti family lawyer and helps smooth things over when members of the family get arrested. He is very strict and is often reprimanding Gilbert for things. It would be interesting to see the story from his perspective for sure.

Visconti Family

Gilbert Redford - He is the leader of the Visconti family and was born in Chicago. Gilbert has ties to the US and the mafia in Chicago. Unlike the Falzone family, he had to earn his way to the boss of the faction and wasn’t passed to him through blood ties.

This route is the most peaceful route. Though Gilbert is mafia, he is a businessman first and foremost. In his story the MC has a lot more freedom as she leaves the manor and tours sections of the city with Gilbert. Much of the MC’s time with him is more like being on dates.

Even though this route is far less violent than the others and softer in many respects, this one has more intrigue. Gilbert is the type that fights with strategy more than with violence so there’s a lot of intelligence gathering and plotting.

Basically the premise is that Gilbert is being framed for a crime and everyone is trying to clear his name. Due to the nature of the crime, it affects all of the families and even Yang is willing to help out Gilbert through this ordeal. The whole story is really a build up to the big finale of the case and you get to see aspects of all the characters in a very different light.

I really like his endings. All of them fit the story and are beautifully done. One of the things I like most about Gilbert’s story is everyone sticks together and helps out.

Lan - She is one of the twins that is assigned as the MC’s guard when in company with the Laou-Shu. This girl is absolutely adorable and creates a lot of fun moments. As cute and sweet as she is, she is also very strong and will kill someone without a second thought.

Laou-Shu

Yang - He is by far my favorite of all the characters. Yang is highly intelligent and very skilled in combat. This is show cased by the fact that he is bored without intrigue or other shenanigans to provide him amusement. The MC in this route is one of the more interesting ones in my opinion. Her intelligence really shines through in this one because in order to survive Yang she has to think on her feet a lot.

One of the things I really liked about this route is there were more fun scenes in it. While Yang’s route is by far the most brutal and violent, there are points that are just good fun and provide some of that cute romantic mishap stuff we all kind of want in these games.

The Laou-Shu is a different type of mafia group from the others and this story is in opposition to the lore of the world. Pretty much everyone gets killed and there’s a lot of misfortune in Yang’s route. He is a violent person who grew up under less than ideal circumstances. The MC is gets involved in the goings on with the Laou-Shu and is brought to some pretty grisly things.

I’ve seen quite a few people compare Yang’s personality to that of Hisoka from the anime Hunter x Hunter and I agree that they have similarities. Both live for the moment and share the bloodlust from a good battle with a strong opponent. He is also a master manipulator and very good at twisting words to get exactly what he wants. His best and tragic endings are simply gorgeous, but his good ending isn’t as fun. It’s not a badly done ending, but I would have liked them both to die in it.

Fei - He is the other of the twins that guard the MC when in the company of the Laou-Shu. He’s very protective of his sister and is the calming force for her. Just like Lan, as adorable as he is he can and will kill someone without a second thought.

Marco Caldroni - He is the other detective that comes into the game and is more often than not trying to keep Roberto in check. Marco is more okay with letting the mafia deal with things than his partner is and tends to either stay out of the way or help in cases where civilians are in danger.

Police

Roberto De Feo - This guy grows on you as you play the game. At first I really didn’t like him and especially so after playing Nicola’s route, but they really should have given him an option. I’d rather have been able to play Roberto than Orlock. Roberto is a newer detective with the police force and has a very strong idea of what justice is. He does not like that the town is overrun with mafia and that the mafia controls everything. This guy tends to pop up and pick fights with some of the mafia members.

Others

??? - This is a hidden route that is only unlocked after you’ve played through all of the others. You learn a lot more about the lore of the world and the MC is pretty much on her own in this route. I found this route very boring and the person you romance in this is too haunted by the past for me to really enjoy them.

As much as I love a good redemption story or even a good tragedy, this route is so boring. I would much rather have this be a totally different character’s route. While I get this person’s story helps fill in the gaps from Gilbert’s route, this gentleman is one of those revenge is everything types and I’m just not onboard with him. The endings are a peaceful kind of harem ending for the best ending and I don’t mind that one too much. There is a romance ending and I just don’t care for this character enough.

I get wanting revenge, but I find the all consuming revenge to the point of self-destruction and destruction of everything you hold dear just stupid. That’s how this romance goes. Reminds me a lot of the Sasuke and Sakura stuff from the anime Naruto.

[loptyrs-moved]

Can you talk more abt ur fandoms ocs? I like your writing a lot and would like to know more abt em

Oh my goodness I’m 🥺🥺🥺🥺 you’re SO sweet thank you!

Well, I have quite a few and some have their own deeper lore stories that go with them. If you guys want more information on them, I can do separate posts on all of them. But Here they are! I’m so excited to share my babies with you!

More is under the cut. The Picrew I used is here.

Ikemen Revolution

Black Army Side

Corrin Fukui

Age: Appears to be in mid-early twenties

Hair: Brick white

Eyes: Blood Red

Height: 4′11

Any other Qualities:

Draconic features -- She’s literally a dragon but not by nature

Curved Opalescent Horns

Shimmery opalescent tail

Wings that also shimmer in the light

retractable?

Pointed ears

Easily frightened by loud noises and sudden movements

stunted growth

Hoards blankets and comfort items

writes in a journal every day 

its one luka got for her and she refuses to write in anything else. she pours her heart out on the pages, and all her memories

she had a brother! but he passed away because of the magic tower :(

turns into a gIANT DRAGON 

ICE ICE BREATH BABY

Was found by Luka while on a patrol near the forbidden forest, lost and afraid, so she was taken in

Had amnesia at first

She actually is an experiment of Amon and she managed to escape

Excellent at sewing and gardening

Sufficient with baking

She’s for Luka! The way they fell for each other was a slow, gradual trust, and mutual understanding. She saw him as a man, as he was, and nothing else.

Sometimes is called Corri

gentle hearted and innocent

but not as innocent as you’d think 

she’s a dragon, and she’s a greedy little one

Ophelia Dae

Age: 24

Hair: Crimson red

Eyes: Jade green

Height: 5′8

Any other Qualities:

A skilled swordsman, and one of the Chosen Thirteen

9 of Spades baybeee

While she is more accustomed to short swords and sabers, Phelia is a magic user! But she isn’t really in agreement with Ray with his stance on magic

BOMBASTIC AS HELL

BISEXUAL

“Is he bothering you Queen?”

Trans

Was friends with Ray and Fenrir while in school, and was just as much of a hellraiser as them

she was there when the day things went dark happened and was almost taken but that day is a blur for her

phelia REFUSES to talk about it

she still has nightmares

raised by a single mother

TRIVIA! She was an old fire emblem oc i had and she was the daughter of Arvis -- so if you squint when she uses magic you’ll see Valflame

joined the army probably because Fenrir was too, and she was inspired by him 

she joined for her own reasons but he made it easier for her to do it too

his passion was what made her fall for him in the first place

has a personal vendetta against the magic tower for what they did to her and her friends

AND CORRIN JEEZ

will sacrifice herself if necessary to the cause

PROBABLY HAS ALMOST DIED BECAUSE OF IT

Bruh girl

Amira Nasiri

Age: 22

Hair: Chocolate brown

Eyes: Turquoise blue

Height: 5′3

Any other qualities:

My version of Alice! Difference is that she’s Persian

That’s it

She’s just as spunky as Alice 

however she responds with being called Alice a little different

she’s adamant about being called Amira

At some point she just accepts Seth does it to distance himself

also an avid baker like alice

pISTACIOS

BAKLAVA

Amira is just Alice except she’s just my take on her. 

She has the same vibrant spirit as Alice

and I personally consider Seth the canon route for REASONS

just ask me why fjgdfgjksd

Red Army Side

Azul Flores

Age: 25

Hair: Raven black

Eyes: Wisteria purple

Height: 5′0

Any Other Qualities:

An old friend of the Queen of Hearts

like she met him when she was 8 years old

fought his bullies when they would give him a hard time when he was a kid

they dated for a WHILE

did NOT work out

HARD CHILDHOOD

Ambitious, hard working young woman who was married into a high standing family on the Red side. Her mother was a teacher and gained the attention of one of the Chosen Thirteen on that side, and got married

Azul is NOT the officer’s daughter. She’s his step daughter

Has had extensive studies on the History of Cradle and of the Red Territory.

Wants to be a Cradle Historian

Works for the Red Army as a personal assistant to the queen

UNINTENTIONAL

THEY ACTUALLY CANT STAND EACH OTHER

Unless....

Look their story is very dramatic and it hurts me every day so please stay tuned with them. 

CUT THROAT BITCH

YOUR DEVIL

DEMON

Heckles Jonah like its her job — she knows him better than anyone elsd, if anyone knows his bs, its her

Bad resting bitch face

Actually really shy, and quiet when in different surroundings

A sweetheart and will cut a bitch for you once she knows u

She is perhaps one of the most transparent, honest, genuine person. there is no bullshit with her. she will tell you her honest thoughts with you

Cerise Nam

Age: 19

Hair: Berry Pink

Eyes: Petal Pink

Height: 5′2

Any other qualities:

Her mom came to Cradle from a far off place, and set up a food and pastry shop in the Central Quarter. Met her dad. Been there since

They live in Black Territory

She works for her parents and works with the pastries/desserts

loves making desserts from where her parents are from

She knows the Queen of Hearts VERY well since she makes the best mille feuille

Got a job from him actually, and works for the Red Army Headquarters kitchen

Loves to cook and bake!

a little naïve, but she’s a realist

youngest of FIVE kids!!

Morning girl

She may be petite but she can HEAFT heavy bags of flour/rice/dry goods

Met Zero by accident, and crashed into him while in town

love at first sight for her. how can you fault her?

she thinks he’s dreamy... and sweet...

does she flirt with him a little? Cerise can’t help it...

She and Zero have more of a hidden relationship because she fears her parents won’t approve

family stuff -- and she understands

RED ARMY OFFICER?? BLACK TERRITORY GIRL

look im cheesy

dont worry it works out

zero has to consider himself and his own personal stuff too so its a little difficult 

Non Army Suitor(s)

Lucile Lidell

Age: 20

Hair: Straw blonde

Eyes: Aqua blue

Height: 5'1

Any other qualities:

She and her twin, Noelle, are the actual descendants of the original Alice

Inherited unusual hairpins that were from cradle

More of the 'modern woman stuck in the wrong time' kind of gal

Rebellious

Noelle and Luci: partners in crime

Short skirts galore

Does not give a singular shit of what MEN think of her

Wants to be taken seriously

Sometimes acts like an airhead in order to get attention. She's actually pretty somber as a person and prefers to be in the background as her sister takes the stage

loves her sister more than anyone else in the world

When she and Noelle fall into Cradle, they kind of hightail it and live in the woods with Harr and Loki

Sticks with Harr since he's literally the least threatening man ever

First man to feel safe around

"Excuse me he said NO pickles!"

Will cut a bitch for him, or use magic -- luci will hurt someone if they even think a bout looking at him wrong

Loves to make clothes

'I mended the holes in your cloak for you...' 'Bye Harr, be safe and have a good day.'

'Welcome home, I missed you.'

Puts up a tough girl front but she's just a big softie just like him

Doesn't realize she has a crush on him until shit starts to hit the fan

Actually very vanilla tbh but wants to spoil her bf

Ikemen Sengoku

Ito Tsunade

Age: 26

Hair: Straw Blonde

Eyes: Molten Gold

Height: 5′5

Any Other Qualities:

Graduate student at the same university as Sasuke 

got stuck in the storm with him and Mai, and was tossed into the sengoku era

but she got separated from Mai

Met Shingen first much to her luck because uh.... lets say Tsunade is aint the sharpest tool in the shed

HEAD EMPTY

ZERO THOUGHTS

AIRHEAD

her aesthetic when she gets there?

TITS OUT

BIG HONKERS BIG TATA

HOT

her head might be empty but her tits are fat and they will protect you

Music nerd — loves traditional Japanese instruments, especially the difficult ones

Specializes in girl metal in modern day

eventually proves herself and plays some sick chords for the takeda/uesegi forces

she has entertained them for now

puts sake away like a monster

when she meets sasuke, she finds comfort in the fact he’s also lost with her, so she clings

asks him how to protect herself from shingen bc he’s horny lolol

genuinely thinks sasuke is hilarious

also does NOT realize she’s in love with him until the gravest of grave happens

her name was UNINTENTIONAL

Aibana Hinata

Age: Presents in his early-mid twenties

Hair: Black Midnight

Eyes: Haunting gold and vermillion

Height: 5'3

Any other qualities: 

The concubine of Nobunaga

Please know I made him a long while before the other guy was dropped so I’m just gonna offer this little gay boy

Nobunaga bought him from a brothel after being so intrigued by him. Hina entertained him so well that he was set for life

A RIGHT SNARKY BASTARD

HE KNOWS HE’S PRETTY AND CAN GET AWAY WITH MURDER

Likes to challenge Nobunaga in battles of wits

board games

debate as pillow talk

swordplay if the lords will entertain him enough

Bisexual as hell

Gender? Don’t know her

He uses all pronouns

True pronoun: princess

ONLY EXISTS IN A UNIVERSE WHERE THERE IS MAI

Nobunaga/Mai/Hinata........

Unless.......

Smart, and educated

former geisha

he can read! and write!

LOVE FUCKING WITH HIDEYOSHI

if there is mai, he would bond with her like no one else

he would be her best friend

her confidant

genuinely adores her

even if she is pursuing nobunaga, he doesn’t resent her ... he just wishes that she would find room in her heart for him too

puts up a tough exterior

a softie.....

[personuhh]

So... would you rather recommend Persona 4 or Persona 4 Golden to someone who's never played it?

This is a difficult question to answer, because if you're starting with the original Persona 4, you might get scared off by its significantly harder combat; it can be very punishing sometimes, and my absolute #1 recommendation if you choose to play it over Golden is PLAY IT ON BEGINNER. You'll be given 10 Moon Tsukubame that allow you to restart a battle if Yu is knocked out (which you'll definitely need), even if you plan on grinding and are confident with your JRPG experience, there are plenty of occasions where I've been 1hko-ed by stupid instant death skills and had to replay hours of a dungeon. The only places to save in P4 dungeons are in the lobby before you enter a dungeon, and just before the boss, and this means that you can lose up to 10 floors if you die. On the other hand, Golden allows you to restart from the beginning of a floor.

There are also some other combat balancing changes like Naoto having other elemental skills aside from mudo/hama that makes them a more viable pick against bosses, some enemies are easier and have elemental weaknesses when they didn't before, shuffle time is (i think) worse and takes a little bit longer after battle to complete as well.

TLDR; the combat in Golden is obviously improved quite a bit, and that's the biggest thing going for it aside from added content.

But I played through the original Persona 4 just fine on beginner, you just have to be a little bit more careful.

Now for the pros to the original Persona 4; you DEFINITELY get a much more satisfyingly paced game, it's far shorter, and you don't have to worry about any extra fanservicey Golden scenes (that you can easily find on YouTube after you're finished OGP4 if you're interested).

I much prefer Chie and Teddie's original voices, and though I didn't mention it much in that Golden Yosuke analysis post, the voice acting and direction seems to be a LOT better in P4 than P4G (it's noticeable when you encounter a Golden-exclusive scene, characters sound... different, particularly Yosuke who's voice seems to raise each time Yuri reprises the role). When I played through P4 I didn't mind Teddie, but something about his new voice acting/direction grates on my nerves and makes him way less likeable – I believe it's because his original voice actor played him as the way he was supposed to originally come across (naïve) instead being more in line with what Golden made him into (a pervert). And maybe it's just me, but I think the initial decision to have him speak in a higher pitched voice was partially because it made him sound a bit like a squeaky toy – at least that's the impression I got, and it works perfectly in the original, something about Dave Wittenberg's voice really makes him sound like what you'd expect of a toy – but Sam Riegel's Golden Teddie sounds like he's trying to hard to imitate the original performance, and is straining his voice (human Teddie is SIGNIFICANTLY better, his voice gets lower when he's out of the suit and sounds more natural).

Similarly, Chie sounds a lot more aggressive, and it can be hard to take her seriously with how over the top Erin can be at times (again, this is likely the fault of voice direction, and not the voice actress) and especially in the earlier parts of the game, it feels like when she speaks to another character, the tones don't... quite match up (likely due to her new lines being recorded 4 years after the rest of the cast). It's most noticeable when she speaks to Yosuke, because Golden Chie seems to REALLY have it out for him, while in the original she had a little bit more of an "oh you" tone to it. I know plenty of people prefer Erin Fitzgerald's Golden Chie voice, and her performance isn't all bad (she's especially great in the anime and spinoffs), but Tracey Rooney's Chie just works better in the original game.

So... Original P4 has less overall content, but the quality of said content is more consistent. Golden has the benefit of being released in 2012 on a portable system (which is very nice if you have a Vita), so if you choose to play P4 over Golden you will inevitably feel that P4 is a little dated without combat improvements, but if you DO finish P4 and decide to go through Golden for the extra content, you get a lot of new things to experience (including 2 new Social Links with Marie and Adachi, the ability to explore the shopping district at night and speak to friends about current events, added cutscenes, several new months to play through near the end of the game, etc.) but you'll also have played through the original and gotten to experience the main story as it was originally written.

Some other small changes: resolution is now up to 720p or 1080i (P4G) from 480p (P4), the UI is slightly different (text boxes), P4G looks much more vibrant and clear than the original's more natural colours, including the sprites which now have a bright, yellowish hue to them to match Golden's colour palette (I prefer OGP4's palette), all voice lines are much less compressed (P4's sound tinny).

You can also take screenshots on Vita and PC versions of Golden; unless you're emulating OGP4 on PC or have a capture card, you obviously can't take screenshots of the original PS2 version of P4.

If you have the patience, I would suggest both (especially since it's easy to emulate the original Persona 4 by this point and I have a full guide to setting up the emulator at the top of my blog, with the rom also included, so you can try it out with relative ease) but don't take my thoughts as definitive, because it all really comes down to personal taste. Many people play through Golden and love it, having no problems with the things I've mentioned (I'm a picky bitch), and you might too. If you're that turned off of what I've said about combat in P4 you can always watch a playthrough and then go through Golden yourself too.

[letterstoleia]

Important Lessons Learned from Gabby and Brian

As an author and advocate for survivors of domestic violence, I’ve learned a lot about the predictable patterns of unhealthy relationships. After years of personal experiences, research, and outreach, I’ve learned to recognize the tell-tale signs of abuse. I am not a licensed therapist, social worker, police officer, or minister. So please understand I shared my thoughts as 3 a.m. musings. When a few people asked me to make the post public, I agreed, reluctantly. I had no idea this message would resonate with so many people. I've worked back through the original post to explain a bit better how I'm feeling. I realize not everyone will agree with me, and I respect all opinions and views. All I ask is that we engage in respectful discourse on all sides. Thank you all.

In recent days, the tragic events involving Gabby Petito and Brian Laundrie have given us a lot to learn. This case is still under investigation, and I can only make assumptions based on the textbook patterns of abuse I’ve witnessed too many times to count. I also recognize that multiple families are grieving, and I have tremendous empathy for everyone involved. However, many survivors will resonate with at least some of the following insights, and I’m hoping we can use this tragedy to shift the way we as a culture approach the complicated issue of domestic abuse.

Let’s examine 30 important lessons this couple teaches us:

1. Followers on social media saw a smiling, happy couple, full of love and wanderlust, setting out for a cross-country adventure while documenting all the joys of young life. In many cases, targets become very good at smiling through the pain.

2. When the public was shown body camera footage captured by Moab City Police officer Daniel Robbins, (who pulled Laundrie and Petito over after the 911 call on August 12), some viewers assumed Petito was suffering from mental illness and Laundrie, while nervous, was the steadier of the two.

3. Other viewers assumed both partners were equally at fault—the old “it takes two” myth that doesn’t really apply to most abusive situations.

4. Some people even assumed Petito was the abuser and Laundrie was the victim.

5. These three assumptions probably crossed everyone’s mind as a possibility (they did mine). Healthy minded people tend to give others the benefit of the doubt, especially when someone is being accused of a negative act. Also, we can all understand that mental illness is a difficult situation and can tax even the kindest most gentle of souls (and the people who love them). Unfortunately, in many cases, this thought pattern leads us to assume the victim is mentally ill or that the victim is to blame for an altercation.

6. “Victim blaming” can happen even in the worst cases of abuse because we don’t see the longitudinal story unfolding. What we don’t see is that the target has managed to keep things together until she reached her threshold, at which time we may see her crying, yelling, or breaking down emotionally. By exhibiting those behaviors, many might assume the target is “crazy,” and it’s natural for us to feel as if the more stable person is more trustworthy.

7. If we listen carefully to Laundrie’s conversation with the officers, he even laughs and says, “She’s crazy.” (17.09) Then he dismisses it as a joke. Of course, he’s already put this claim in the officers’ minds (and by the nonchalant way he says it, many might assume it’s not the first time he’s said these words.)

8. So while viewers (and officers) start wondering if perhaps the target is “crazy,” the abuser plays the part of the poor, patient partner who has to deal with this irrational person. In the video, Laundrie mentions Petito’s anxiety and her OCD, painting her as an unstable partner. (Please note: I’m not at all justifying any physical violence against either party. No one should intentionally harm any other person. Period.)

9. A typical abuser would be skilled at convincing people that he’s innocent, while in fact he’s been acting very differently behind closed doors, pushing his target to this point intentionally and feeding on her emotional break. Many abusers LOVE to see evidence that they’ve hurt their target. They LOVE to see their target in pain. For this reason, “breaking” the target is usually the goal from the start. In cases of abuse, it may take an abuser hours, weeks, months, or even years to break the target, but he won’t stop until he gets that reaction, and then he’ll point the finger and say, “See? She’s crazy. I’m just trying to keep her calm.” And then he’ll do it again. And again. And again.

10. As a result, some people will buy into that false narrative. Even the target can be brainwashed to doubt her own truth. Which may be one reason we see Petito making many excuses for Laundrie’s behavior and taking the blame for everything.

11. In contrast, we see Laundrie blaming Petito, insisting he never hit her and saying he was just trying to keep her calm. He’s charming. He comes across as the loving and loyal partner. He’s joking around with the officers and even gives one a fist bump in the end. All the while, his fiancée is at risk of being charged with domestic assault and possibly spending the night in jail.

12. Later, we’ll hear the 911 recording that (it seems) the responding officers were not fully informed of at the time: “I’d like to report a domestic dispute.” The 49 second audio recording continues as the caller says, “The gentleman was slapping the girl.” When the dispatcher asks him to confirm that the man was slapping the girl, the caller responds, “Yes, and then we stopped, they ran up and down the sidewalk, he proceeded to hit her, hopped in the car, and they drove off.”

13. But long before the 911 call was made public, many survivors could already see through the spin playing out on the video footage. They easily recognized the “red flags” because these cycles become the norm for victims of long-standing abuse. Many targets eventually become conditioned to believe everything the abuser does is her fault. Covering for the abuser, accepting all the blame, trying harder to make the abuser happy—this warped reality becomes the only truth a target knows.

14. Also, it seems clear that Petito doesn’t want her fiancé to be in any trouble. She’d rather pay the price and protect the man she loves. And because she probably believes he only acted this way because of her mood/behaviors/anxiety/OCD/job, she doesn’t want him to be blamed. This is also the norm in abusive relationships.

15. Many experienced and well-trained officers see right through this typical pattern. Others buy the cover-up story. And, sadly, because some officers are also abusers, some side with the abuser even when they know exactly what’s going on. Throughout the video, we get the sense that Officer Robbins senses there’s more to the story.

16. I credit the police in Petito’s situation, especially Officer Robbins. The four responding officers (two of whom were park rangers) remained calm, they separated the couple, they interviewed them individually, they split them up for the night, they consulted the domestic violence shelter … many would say they did everything right considering the information they had at the time.

17. I imagine the officers involved may be suffering from tremendous guilt and wondering if they could have prevented Petito’s death, but I want to give credit to the officers in this case. While it’s easy to look back and say maybe they should have handled things differently, knowing what we now know, I was impressed with how well they treated both Laundrie and Petito (and, sadly, I was thinking how rare it is to see that level of respect and professionalism in most cases of domestic violence, particularly in the South where I’ve been most involved with survivors’ stories.)

18. After Petito was reported missing, many people expressed shock in response to the Laundrie family’s refusal to cooperate early in the investigation. Petito reportedly lived with the Laundrie family for more than a year. Anyone can see that this family will do anything to protect their son, even at the cost of an innocent young woman who was a real part of their family and soon to be their daughter-in-law. While most of us can certainly understand parents wanting to protect their son, most would agree they crossed a moral line when his fiancée went missing.

19. But perhaps it goes deeper than that. Perhaps what we’re seeing is a system of enablers who not only allowed their son to abuse Petito (which may have been a factor in her reported anxiety) but also a system of gaslighters who may have always been shifting the truth to keep Petito confused and make her believe she was the problem.

20. It’s not a far stretch to assume Petito was caught in a system of abuse. And once a target is caught in that psychological web, it’s extremely difficult to see a way out. Reality becomes flipped.

21. It’s also worth noting that Petito and Laundrie had been involved in various levels of a relationship since their teens. This is also commonly observed in dysfunctional partnerships.

22. These immature relationships work beautifully when both partners grow together and mature emotionally. But when one wants to keep the other down, naïve, and under his control … and the other is growing, learning, and maturing … it doesn’t work.

23. We hear Petito tell the officer that Laundrie didn’t think she could succeed with her travel blog (3.25). It seems clear that he didn’t believe in her and that he was trying to make her doubt herself.

24. Throughout the conversation, he implies that he locked her out of the van because she wouldn’t calm down. But when we listen to the full video, it seems he was upset because they’d spent too much time at the coffee shop with her working on her website when he wanted to go hiking. This suggests that because she wasn’t in the van when he was ready to leave, he lost his temper.

25. In the moments that followed, the altercation became physical. Reportedly, Laundrie squeezed Petito’s face with his hand, cut her down verbally, and criticized her.

26. Some would argue that this escalating abuse typically persists until the target reacts emotionally and/or physically. If this case follows the norm, Laundrie may have been trying to break her spirit, intentionally.

27. Why? Again, if this case follows the typical situation, it would likely be because Petito’s focus wasn’t 100% on Laundrie. She had found this new job she enjoyed. She was succeeding at it, and it was allowing her to connect with other people. (Remember, she’d already left her job as a nutritionist to travel around the country with Laundrie.)

28. In a healthy relationship, the new job might be considered a positive opportunity for Petito. Especially considering Laundrie admits they have very little money (not even enough to afford a hotel room to prevent his fiancée from going to jail). But in an unhealthy relationship, the abuser wants the target all to himself. And when that doesn’t happen, he can become increasingly violent.

29. Petito now had this one little piece of her life that Laundrie couldn’t control, so if we’re looking at textbook patterns, perhaps her blog angered him. Perhaps he didn’t like all the attention she was getting on social media. Perhaps he punished her for it. And then a cycle developed. Even though she was doing nothing wrong by building a new career.

30. The next thing we know, we have a missing person, a recovered body, a young man on the run, and several families destroyed. Too much grief to measure. And the truth is, it will happen again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, until we learn to recognize and respond to abusive situations in healthier ways.

The overall takeaway?

When we see someone at her emotional end during a domestic dispute, we shouldn’t assume she’s crazy. We shouldn’t buy into the false narrative given by the abuser. We shouldn’t believe the cover-up story by the target who has been conditioned to carry all the blame and shame. And we shouldn’t assume they’re going to be okay.

Instead, we should all learn the difference between healthy and unhealthy relationships. We should learn to recognize the warning signs of abuse. We should engage in respectful, fact-based conversations about trauma bonds, abusive cycles, and emotional intelligence. We should be familiar with terms like gaslighting, hovering, love bombing, enabling, triangulating, and projecting. We should stop blaming targets and help them reclaim their truth. And we should stop repeating the age-old myths that keep targets trapped in these dangerous and all-too-often deadly cycles.

Finally, while I’ve used the most common scenario of male-on-female violence in this article, we should recognize that abuse crosses all barriers and can impact anyone regardless of gender, sexuality, ethnicity, nationality, religious affiliation, age, or socio-economic level. And we should stop assuming these situations will get better in time. Personally, I haven’t heard of one abusive relationship that became healthier. Not one. Not with therapy. Not with church. Not with prayer or forgiveness or complete surrender. When an abuser is determined to destroy his target, he will not stop until that target is erased from this world or stripped from her life. And in many cases, he’ll walk away without any consequences, often taking the target’s finances, home, vehicle, reputation, or even her children with him.

Please don’t let the next statistic be you or someone you love. For support, contact the Domestic Violence Hotline. From a safe phone, call 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or text “START” to 88788.