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privilege-rpg · 2 months ago

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EDEN WILDE

☆ FULL NAME: Eden Rebecca Wilde ☆ GENDER: Ciswoman ☆ PRONOUNS: She/Her ☆ AGE: 27 (April 14th, 1997) ☆ BIRTH ORDER: Second ☆ TYPE: Full sibling; solo ☆ HOMETOWN: Knoxville, Tennessee ☆ SCHOOL: Freshman, majoring in Speech Pathology ☆ SEXUALITY: Bisexual (semi-closeted) ☆ FACECLAIM: Sarah Hyland

ABOUT EDEN

domestic violence tw, religion cw

Eden's aversion to sitting still began in the womb, when she couldn't stay in one place long enough for the sonographer to determine her sex on any of the occasions they tried. In the end, the Wildes decided to just let their baby surprise them, something she did tenfold when she arrived at only twenty-nine weeks gestation. Evidently, being cooped up in one small space just wasn't sitting well with Eden, whose dramatically early entrance—on her older brother's birthday, no less—was probably the one and only time she has ever been early for anything. Following her extended NICU stay, Eden was a happy baby, then an energetic, bubbly toddler, her only real complication being her speech.

While she developed well in every other area, meeting milestones at the expected level, Eden would stumble over her words, often stuttering and struggling to say what she wanted to say—a real setback for Eden, who always had a lot to say. When prayer pronounced as pwayow started to become less cute, her parents had her see a speech pathologist, who worked with Eden to untie her tongue and ensure she wouldn't endure a lifetime of bullying in their Knoxville community. Of course, they moved to Los Angeles soon after, and Eden was quite the opposite of bullied. In fact, maybe because she would do nothing but talk, even more so with her newfound skill of being able to do so properly, she made plenty of friends, so from as far back as she can remember, Eden has known nothing but adoration and popularity.

The eldest girl in her family, Eden was always Daddy's little princess, especially because she loved the Lord and easily brought in views for their eventual TV show with her bubbly personality, unwavering faith and, more importantly, fashion sense. Eden was a fan favorite among the younger generation of Wilde Faith's viewers, partially due to her relatability, partially due to how unrelatable her life was. Young girls dreamed of coming from a background of money, being naturally beautiful and having all of the popularity in the world, so Eden served as a symbol for their own desires. Her perfect life, however, was about to come to a halt thanks to the temper her father harbored, but that Eden hadn't seen thanks to her brother's quiet interception in all of the years prior.

As a good, respectable Christian girl, drinking and fraternising with the opposite sex was more than frowned upon, but especially when underage. So, when a sixteen year old Eden came home wasted one evening with a bright purple hickey on her neck, the cameras having left only moments before her arrival, her father saw red. He screamed at her about what a disappointment she was, and what would they have done if she'd shown up in this mess an hour earlier when the cameras were rolling? He raised his voice and his hand, and got two sharp slaps in before her brother dove in between them. From then on, Eden's rosy view of her perfect Pastor father changed drastically, as did his of her. Where he used to look at her with adoration, his eyes instead were filled with hatred, and the love Eden had once felt for her father turned to fear.

Eden, not the most academic of people, had never really considered college, but as soon as she graduated high school, she knew she needed to get out of there, so followed her brother to PSU, where she enrolled to major in Fashion Design and Merchandising. No longer under the watchful eye of her parents, though, Eden really let loose in college. She partied hard, skipped classes and failed the ones she occasionally did attend, until she decided further education just wasn't for her, and dropped out to live her life. Although no longer a regular feature on Wilde Faith, being a member of the Wilde family meant there were still eyes on her, and Eden became known as the party girl as opposed to Aaron Wilde's good Christian daughter, and quite honestly, her life became a bit of a mess. An exciting, fun mess, but a mess all the same.

Throughout her years as a partying, travelling college dropout, Eden began to question big aspects of her life, such as her religion and sexuality. A series of same-sex hookups showed Eden she certainly wasn't straight, although she wasn't entirely gay either. Bisexual was the label that felt the most comfortable to her, and while Eden was and still is open about this with those close to her, it is something she keeps under wraps from the general public, not wanting it to get back to her parents. After all, despite what a disappointment she turned out to be, they never gave up on her completely—they continued to fund her lifestyle for reasons she cannot quite comprehend, but that she chooses not to question. Being out and open as anything but heterosexual would be a surefire to way to put a stop to that, and that is something Eden simply cannot allow to happen.

As for her relationship with God, while she has always loved her Lord and believed in His power, she has never been one to preach, nor to follow all (or...any) of the rules set out by the Bible. In her independence, Eden made the decision to set the holy book and its ideals aside, realizing she could still love God and be loved by God in return without having to follow the manmade rules her father preaches in his sermons. So, Eden still believes in God, she is still a Christian, only in her own way now, and she is much happier for it. Her life, however, for all it was fun and exciting, over the years began to feel stale, and with adulthood came the itch for Eden to do something more, something worthwhile. If she wanted true independence, to really cut the strings tying her to her parents, that meant gaining financial independence too, something she couldn't do without a job.

Eden was never going to do menial work, but there was nothing exciting available to her without a degree. So, college became her next and seemingly only real option. Still interested in fashion, she considered going back to her previous major, but for some reason it just didn't really excite her anymore. Instead, Eden wanted to do something bigger, something entirely unlike her. Digging into her past, Eden began looking into the speech therapy that'd helped her as a little girl, and while children were never exactly her thing, she had to admit that the idea of helping them in the way her therapist had helped her did make her feel warm and accomplished, so on the merit of the Wilde name, Eden bit the bullet, applying to PSU almost ten years after her first attempt, this time to major in Speech Pathology.

A twenty-seven year old freshman, Eden plans to do things right this time—while remaining true to herself and continuing to have fun, of course.

FAMILY BACKGROUND

At first, Aaron Wilde was just like any other pastor. He was loved by many in Knoxville, and that’s how it stayed for many years. As the years went on, though, he grew in popularity. Everyone in Tennessee would travel to see him - especially the housewives with nothing better to do. Did Aaron’s good looks have everything to do with his popularity? Absolutely. Which is why it was no surprise when someone in Los Angeles called him, asking him if he’d like to have his own church (that seated 17,000 people). He agreed, of course. Aaron moved his whole family to Los Angeles so he could be the pastor of Pacific Grace Church. Aaron Wilde became the best-known pastor in the United States, with several people from all over the United States coming over to see him give sermons. Every sermon was televised. Aaron did this for seven years, and then was offered a reality television deal. They named the show Wilde Faith, and it followed around the Wilde family to show off how they were a perfect Christian family. Wilde Faith was on for six seasons, as Aaron continued to be the pastor at Pacific Grace. After the six seasons, they decided to end because Aaron said “he talked to God and He said it was time to stop”. Aaron continues to work at Pacific Grace to this day. Elizabeth is the happy and dutiful wife to him, and that’s about it.

#psueden #psuwilde

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heartbraeker · 9 months ago

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cartwheeling rn out of excitement ... it's dani , shoving muse numero tres at you ! if you were around when i first joined nepo in october , you may recognize him ( although i have made some small tweaks ) , but if not , please allow me to introduce you & yap aaalllll about international popstar that flew too close to the sun , mr. LOGAN IM ! smash that read more to learn more ⤵

I. APPLICATION

spotted at the met steps , logan im , most likely listening to 2009 by mac miller with their airpods pro . the twenty6 year old gained quite a reputation , known to be -bitter yet +protective to anyone who knows them . you'll easily spot them when you hear about flying too close to the sun , a smile so bright it blinds you , the adrenaline rush following thousands of adoring fans chanting your name , and the roar of a aston martin's engine , followed by santal 33 by le labo . latest nepoupdates article talks about him walking out mid - interview ( live ! ) because of all the , quote , ' stupid f*cking questions ’ , but i guess any reputation is good reputation . ( dani!!! )

II. STATISTICS

FULL NAME : logan im . AGE : twenty6 . DATE OF BIRTH : june 13 , 1997 . HOMETOWN : la quinta , california / los angeles , california . GENDER : cis man . PRONOUNS : he/him . OCCUPATION : international popstar ( justin bieber cc ) & ceo of im music . POSITIVE TRAITS : quick-witted , usually well - meaning , ambitious , protective , charismatic , annoyingly endearing , affectionate . NEGATIVE TRAITS : flippant , meticulous , guarded , dramatic , adrenaline junkie , a spitfire , likes to push people's buttons for fun , moody , disloyal . MBTI : esfp . ENNEAGRAM : type 8 — the challenger . TEMPERAMENT : chloeric . MORAL ALIGNMENT : true neutral .

III. BACKGROUND INFO

as far back as logan can remember , it's just been him , his mom , and his little sister . his father had never been in the picture , and his mom busted her ass to raise her kids well , even if it meant missing out on some much - needed sleep . she was a very hardworking woman: juggling two young kids , a waitressing job at a local diner , and going back to school for a nursing license definitely wasn't an easy feat .

that being said , there were A LOT of moments that logan was left to keep himself busy . he oftentimes stayed late at school , but filled the time by joining some extracurriculars , namely , by joining his intermediate school's choir and band . logan took to music like a fish to water . he'd never been terrific at school , but he was a WHIZ when it came to piano , and later , the guitar . he still counts his very first beat - up acoustic guitar that his mom had bought off a coworker as the best christmas present ever . music was his entire life . it came as no surprise to his mother when he remarked to her that THIS was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life . she was a little UNSURE , of course , not wanting her son to FAIL … much preferring the idea of him going to university and getting a degree in something ’ useful ‘ . but she saw how happy it made him , and she knew that she had to support him through this . and so it began: the long , two hour drives out to los angeles to pitch logan to music labels . the two of them had NO IDEA what they were doing . they'd show up and knock and hope for the best … spoiler alert … that didn't really work . people didn't really take a thirteen year old from coachella valley SERIOUSLY . it was really discouraging , and logan was ready to throw in the towel after nearly 7 months of back and forth every weekend just to be met with a laugh and a NO every single time . it seemed like right when he was ready to give up , the universe managed to align everything PERFECTLY . he remembers it well — how could he forget ? fourteen now , sitting outside of the wiltern , just him , his mom , his sister , and his guitar , singing and playing his little heart out … he'd resorted to this a while ago: taking breaks from all the no’s to make some quick money as a street performer before getting back out there again . a man had approached them and stopped to listen for a while , eventually making the move to introduce himself as one of the founders of a new talent agency . he offered to help logan record a demo and actually get it into the record labels' offices . his mom was apprehensive at first , but after a few weeks of emailing back and forth , she decided to jump right in with logan and hope for the best .

it was a WHIRLWIND after that . things happened so fast that logan has a hard time piecing it all together . demos were recorded and sent out , videos of him performing on the street went VIRAL , and soon enough , he had a number of record labels waving contracts and pens in his face . it was so exciting — everything he ever dreamed of . and it was only UP from there . he had made some waves in the music industry with his debut ep , MY WORLD , consisting of three songs: one time , one less lonely girl , and love me . one time landed itself on the billboard hot 100 , and logan rode this wave of success by releasing his first album , MY WORLD 2.0 , at fifteen , which debuted at #1 , and gave him the smash hit baby , which solidified him as the next ’ teenage heartthrob ‘ , garnering him thousands upon thousands of adoring fans . a tour soon followed , selling out smaller theatres worldwide . it was overwhelming to say the very least . going from an absolute nobody to someone on everyone’s radar was a huge shift , and it happened seemingly OVERNIGHT . his next album , released at seventeen , BELIEVE , birthed more smash hits , and rocket - launched his fame even further than before . logan didn't have to chance to sit back and soak it all in . never got to really process it all . his life was writing , recording , and performing . there was never any space in between it all . his next tour consisted of arenas and even stadiums , and it became increasingly DIFFICULT for logan to wrap his head around it all .

he had everything he ever wanted , but he didn't realize what he'd have to GIVE UP to get here: namely , privacy and downtime . it was always go , go , go . while he had a hell of team that lifted him up to new heights , his management had begun to treat him as some sort of CASH COW . logan wanted a few months to re - spark his creativity , but there was no time for that ... logan wanted to have longer rests in between tour stops , but that was lost profit . they worked him to the bone . [ addiction tw , mention of drugs & alcohol ] it shouldn't have come as a surprise when their golden boy finally SNAPPED . logan had found himself being named public enemy #1 by various media outlets from the ages 17 - 19 because of a series of unfortunate events , including stepping out in public sloppily inebriated on more than one occasion , cussing out the paparazzi and even breaking the camera of one unlucky photographer , a fuzzy cellphone video that seemed to capture logan doing coke at a party , and his infamous smiling mugshot as a result of a dui charge … just a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms . [ end of tw ]

logan would release his next album , JOURNALS , at 19 during the peak of his controversy … it must be a true saying that any reputation is a good reputation , because it debuted at #1 , cinching logan' third #1 album … but that was IT from him . after another year or so of being a hot topic in the press from his behavior , logan went absolutely radio silent . it stayed that way for a few years . logan's sister had tricked ( read : forced ) him into a rehabilitation center , where he stayed for two months , and then he resigned to hiding out on his estate in calabasas . this was done in secret ; to the rest of the world , it just seemed like he disappeared ( though there were rumors , never confirmed ) . logan was pretty embarrassed by it all , not to mention extremely FRUSTRATED that he had fumbled the bag so hard . living in los angeles felt like living in a fish bowl . paparazzi somehow jumped out on every single corner , and logan really wanted the chance to get to just … LIVE . he was twenty when he decided to make the move to new york , figuring such a densely - packed city could give him more chances to just blend in . and that he did ! he relished in being able to take a few years OFF for himself and his mental health .

he was 22 when he finally decided that he'd like to try his hand at being in the spotlight again , but this time , on his own terms . logan pretty much cleared out his whole management team to start fresh with people that actually CARED about his well - being . after 3 long years , logan im would make his comeback with his fourth album , PURPOSE , which had major commercial success , and even landed him his first ever grammy win ! however , he decided not to tour the album for his own well - being . it felt really good to finally have a team that SUPPORTED his need for a break ... so good , in fact , that it sparked an idea in him: 2 years later , at 24 , logan would announce the launch of his NEW RECORD LABEL , IM MUSIC , which focused on cultivating a creative space for the new generation of artists while protecting their sanity . this was something that meant the world to him . logan had never had someone that really understood what he was going through when he was first thrust into the spotlight . he wanted to be that person for up - and - coming artists ( and also add well - known talent to his roster too ) . since the launch of his label 2 years ago , IM MUSIC has flourished at a quick rate , bringing fresh new faces to the entertainment industry , and giving some established talent new contracts and new freedom . at 26 , logan is happy to work as the head of the label , and also has a hand in producing , writing , and engineering quite a lot of the work that is done by his artists . [ brief mention of relapse tw ] his pr team is working hard to get him back in the media's good graces and erase him of his party boy status ... and logan is trying his best , but ... well , once a party boy , always a party boy . he's recently been dabbling in illicit substances again just " in moderation " this time [ end tw ] .

and a lil career timeline for reference :

debut ep , my world — 2012 , age 15 .

first album , my world 2.0 — 2013 , age 15 .

first world tour , my world — 2013 , ages 15 - 16 .

second album , believe — 2014 , age 17 .

second world tour , believe — 2014 - 15 , ages 17 - 18 .

the controversy — happened during and after the believe world tour , ages 17 - 19 .

third album , journals — 2016 , age 19 .

time out of the spotlight — 2016 - 18 , ages 19 - 21 .

fourth album , purpose — 2019 , age 22 .

launch of im music — 2021 , age 24 .

IV. PERSONALITY

being shoved into the spotlight at such a young age , as well as being shunned by the media that once claimed to adore him , has made logan a bit rough around the edges . he's generally a nice enough person — doesn't go out of his way to be a saint to people , but also doesn't pick actual fights for no reason … he does get a kick out of arguing about petty things though . terribly , terribly , terribly stubborn . once his mind is set , good fucking luck changing it . it will happen no matter what or who he has to do . he's very ambitious in this way , but it's definitely not always a good thing . logan has a bad habit of doing or saying things without regard to how other people might feel about it .

he just ?? really doesn't think things through a lot of the time . rarely has a filter . logan will always say the very first thing that comes to mind , and it's usually something stupid mmdjsandjias … that being said , he has a penchant for sarcastic quips . he's kinda a big jokester . likes to tease people . logan doesn't take most things super seriously . i mean , he's had it all and also had everything ripped away from him ... he's at a point where he feels he has nothing to lose . also has a horrific problem with being honest . do not trust this man at any cost . he will lie about anything and everything . it's basically compulsive . you can ask him if he had breakfast and he will just lie and say yes even if he didn't … like just utterly stupid shit . things he has no business lying about . there will be a lie !

logan is just … really guarded . he doesn't like to take things seriously because then it's … well … serious . at his core , he's a deeply insecure person , but he really hates to air that side of him out . big older sibling energy in the sense that ... well , he is an older sibling , and he's an antagonist , but also because he's very protective over the people he loves . he is a cancer moon , which means he has a lot of really strong emotions underneath it all . if you can chip away at his silly - goofy , confident exterior , you'd see that he's actually kinda a softie deep down . he's very affectionate with the people he cares about , and can be touchy - feely when he's comfortable . annoyingly endearing in a way where you kinda want to punch him in the face but also wrap him in a big winter coat and tell him to stay warm . you know ?

V. HEADCANONS

logan has perfect pitch , which means he can recognize and produce any given musical note on cue . this talent became apparent when he first started learning the guitar in school . he's something of a musical prodigy , and besides singing , logan can also play the guitar , piano , drumset , and bass guitar . he also knows his way around a soundboard very well . has a soft spot for cats ; in fact , he has his very own kitty at home . she's a fluffy white cat named ghost . if you ask him , he'll tell you his greatest accomplishment yet was being able to buy his mom a house in los angeles . logan LOVES journaling . he's got an old , beat - up leather bound notebook that he totes around with him everywhere . this hobby really blossomed when his career first blew up when he was fifteen . he scrapbooked as a way to remember all the cool things that he got to do and see . besides the notebook , he's also always got a small selection of sharpies with him . not just for autographs and journaling , though ! logan has a bad habit of doodling on surfaces he probably shouldn't .

VI. WANTED CONNECTIONS

anything & everything . pls like i'm begging on my knees ... but here are some ideas : party friends , bad influence ( on him or he is the bad influence ) , good influence ( probably on him ) , sibling - like relationship , unlikely friends , flirtationship , fwb , ewb , exes ( probably on bad terms ... and probably his fault ) , situationship ( ex or present ) , bromance ( nonbinary / fem muses are included in this ) , studio friends , someone signed to his label , collaborators , friends from la , childhood friends , one night stand , and literally anything else we can cook up ! * pr relationship : logan is trying to get back into society's good graces , and your muse is an integral part of the plan . they're constantly spotted with logan — be it an outing with paid paparazzi or a red - carpet event . logan can play the part of a loving boyfriend ! i think this has the potential to be really fun ... maybe they actually hate each other's guts … maybe they learn to love each other begrudgingly … maybe there's an unrequited crush somewhere … the options are endless ! * she don't like the lights : based off of the song of the same title ( lyrics linked ) . an ex , particularly someone that wasn't keen on logan's immense fame . probably a nepo baby that had some fame , but was mostly just wealthy ... didn't have cameras shoved in their face 24/7 until they started dating logan . this was what ultimately ended their relationship . they couldn't handle the nonstop attention , and logan was a magnet for it . we could plot exactly how that went down , but i imagine logan would've been really hurt by it . technically off his believe album , but this relationship could've happened afterwards !

VII. ESTABLISHED CONNECTIONS

FRIEND FROM LA : rina jung , EXES ON ... WEIRD TERMS : aria eden - west , FAN OF HIS / PARTY TOGETHER ' IN MODERATION ' : benny ahn . PAST HOOKUP / CLOSE FRIENDS : mona bae , ONE LESS LONELY GIRL / FRIENDS : cami addario , PR RELATIONSHIP : winnie james .

#nepofm.intro #warning u now that i am Thee Yapper of all time

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icharchivist · 1 year ago

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f///f 7 new trailer related salt i'm so sorry for that but bear with me

also will include spoilers to the 1997 game.

god it sucks, the Re//birth trailer looks so nice graphicwise but i keep thinking back to the plot stuff they showed and. I guess i really can't accept the fact the "remake" is actually a stealth sequel and i really don't vibe with what they're doing with it it's making me so sad.

with the first part i was already on the fence not really liking the idea, the main thing is like. I think we're losing all the subtility of the original in some way which is kinda baffling that 25 years later i find it so. vulgar?

I had this pet peeve already with the way they utilized Sephiroth in the first part, considering he just keeps popping up / have a boss battle despite it being the one part of the OG where Sephiroth /doesn't/ appear and is just mentioned a lot, which is meant to build up to him. And ofc the choice is rooted on how they couldn't leave Sephiroth out of the game while he's soo popular (tho it's also the same reason they showed Zack and i'm still so mad at that), and so they rooted the whole "stealth sequel" around him, with Sephiroth not being the one of the main timeline but of the post-AC timeline. Like. Guh whatever.

But that was the intention they were going with anyway, considering the stealth sequel aspect of it, and all in all, it's in character for Sephiroth to do that. I just hate that they called the game a remake and then put Sequel Sephiroth in it.

But the Re///birth trailer kinda hammered in stuff i was on the fence about and i'm hhhh.

I hate that Tifa says aloud in the trailer, even to Aerith, that she doesn't remember Cloud being there during the Nibelheim Incident.

The subtle build up to her uncertainty in the OG were so good, it gets genuinely so unsettling to see that she /is/ hiding something from Cloud but you don't really get what it is, especially while the game was building up something was wrong with Cloud and we had no clue what it was exactly.

The remake already kinda was already far less subtle about Cloud's deal already and just, downright spoiled it with that ending anyway (i hate it i'm sorry😭 take it from Zack Fangirl #1 i absolutely hate how they showed him in the game)

But god i hate it, i hate how it's just genuinely telling you exactly what's up in some way.

bc the confrontation with Sephiroth in the OG is so fucking good. Sephiroth gaslighting Cloud into telling him he doesn't actually exist, that he's just Sephiroth's clone and it's why Sephiroth can manipulate him so well, that he wasn't there during the Nibelheim incident, and him turning to Tifa for support and you realize that *this* is what Tifa's weird behavior has been building up to: that she can't actually reassure Cloud with remembering the reality Sephiroth is making *both* of them doubt at that moment.

Like in the OG it builds almost like this moment of fooling the player into thinking Sephiroth is right the same way it fools Cloud. What the OG does so well is that it gaslights you the same way it gaslights Cloud. And it does it by removing one of THE Pilar of your certainty. Because you trust that Tifa is the One Person who won't lie to you, who was there from the start, who's always been there for Cloud. And sure you don't get why something is wrong with her most of the game but therefore this moment hits so hard.

Honestly i feel like we're losing the actual impact of the gaslighting plotline anyway completely with how much we already revealed about Cloud's past in the remake (they shouldn't have showed Zack they shouldn't have showed Zack i'm SO mad). And perhaps i'm just mad because one of the big reason i imprinted so much on ff7 when i did, and why it became such a formative part of my life, is how much i identified and related to that specific plotline to start with.

Instead in the trailer they also have Sephiroth tell you Jenova can change appearance and replace people in your life and then he tells Cloud "you saw me kill [Tifa] so how can you believe she's the real her?" and i find it. so fucking vulgar.

Yeah makes sense for AC!Sephiroth to aim specifically in having Cloud doubting the people he loves, since he knows this is Cloud's strength. But, aside from the fact we're changing the dynamic between Cloud and Sephiroth already (by completely losing how slowly Sephiroth saw Cloud as a threat, since now he knows Cloud is HIS nemesis), I just think it fucking sucks and doesn't have the actual punch the original had.

Sephiroth managed to control Cloud body and soul, he almost pushed him to kill the people he loved, he pushed him to trigger the apocalypse, he made him doubt he was an actual person, Sephiroth made Cloud his by wrapping his vision of reality, by abusing of the way Cloud couldn't trust his own memories. Trying to isolate him from his friends by having doubted them just feel like a massive downgrade to me.

Like yeah makes sense that post AC Sephiroth wouldn't use the same manipulation tactics. But that might also be why it shouldn't have been a timeline fuckery to start with.

Also i find the expositionary line extremely clunky, i don't remember the Jenova reveal to have come *this* soon in the timeline but whatever, it's a trailer anyway.

And anyway i've seen people kinda joke about it with like "what if they kill Tifa instead of Aerith this time" and i'm genuinely so jaded it genuinely makes me angry. Aerith's Death had so many layers, in plot and thematic and were so intrically linked to who she is as a person. Tifa dying would just be the shock value people have wrongfully claimed Aerith's death was all along all those years. And if they're genuinely doing that like. making us doubt if Tifa is going to survive to try to have us buy into the (already very cruel imo) "will Aerith survive?", i just find it absolutely lame.

I wanted to like those games. I've been waiting for them since 2015, it was all i ever talked about.

But between the remake bait and switch and the various decisions they're taking, it's just making me sad.

And even just taking the game as a sequel instead of a remake doesn't work on me because i find it rather rude. Like the complains about "why would fans want a fully remade game when they can just replay the original" (because people don't play 1997 games and because it's kinda sad that the rest of the saga has elaborate graphisms and not this one), with having enemies from the remake being "keepers of the canon" and how now it's all about "the future isn't set in stone"

it kinda kills me because i never pinned f//f7 to be a story about fate. f//f15 is, in a way, and would totally earn having a twist on "this is not set in stone, we can change things".

but f///f7 is so much about grief, about nature, about accepting that things went wrong, that horrors happen but you have to carry on, you can't rewrite it. Cloud has tried rewritting his life and it didn't end well, he had to accept what happened to him. And instead we get a game that is all "actually you can rewrite what tragedies are about to happen". it just. sighs.

man i'm sad that i'm this sad about it.

i'll finish playing the remake and sure i'll play re//birth, on every other aspect it seems nice.

But man. this excitement from years ago just turned into pure dread and i'm absolutely not excited about the game, and it really makes me sad.

#ichasalty #ichatalks #hopefully it won't end up in tags but. man.#anyway don't mind me it's just my personal grievance and just how personally i don't vibe with where it's going #im just so sad about it - is all.

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merrock · 1 year ago

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CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Haley Lu Richardson

full name: Peach Jones

nickname(s) / goes by: PJ, Pea

pronouns & gender: she/her & cis woman

sexuality: bisexual

birth date: February 23, 1997

birth place: Mobile, Alabama

arrival to merrock: 20 years ago

housing: Historic Downtown

occupation: Park Ranger

work place: Merrock State Park

family: mother

relationship status: single

PERSONALITY

Peach blows in on a breeze. If there's a bottom to her well, it hasn't been hit yet. She's quick to sniff out a party, or to strike up a conversation with a stranger. She leads with kindness and a smile and occasionally an ill made brownie. (The first two work well, the third not so much.) She enjoys things a little left of center and doesn't suffer bullies easily. Though no one would consider her organized, she does have a prudent sort of responsibility. At times forgetful, it is more like in the course of a friendship with Peach that she will turn up at the eleventh hour with a bottle of vodka and a solution. Some people might find that frustrating, but Peach has found her niche and decided to ignore the critiques.

WRITTEN BY: Kate (she/her, est.

BACKGROUND / BIO

triggering / sensitive content: death

Peach Jones likes to get lost. That is when the fun begins.

Her first steps and first smiles belonged to Alabama. Her parents were young, even, by admission, a little foolish. One week after walking across a stage for their high school diplomas they were walking into a drug store for a pregnancy test. As her mom likes to say, Peach kept the tongues wagging all summer. As was her custom, she arrived late with no apologies. Her name came down to her in a Jones family tradition. From Grandma Clementine, to mother Cherry, and on to Peach.

Her parents tried to do well by her, but they weren't built to last. Before Peach's third birthday, they were trading off weekends and growing in different directions. In those days, the sunlight spilt over. Peach's memories of Alabama all taste of lemon and dress themselves in yellow. She remembers sunburns and thunderstorms. There were Mardi Gras and block parties and the tilt of a southern accent. They were happy years when a father could arrive in a pick-up truck and whisk her away for ice cream and mini golf. And, just as their roots dug in they were ripped right up.

At six, a great aunt passed and, to the favored niece, went the little townhome in Maine. It was a whim and Cherry was quite good at those. She packed a car, dressed a daughter, and hit the road. The distance would rewrite bits of Peach's story. Space would grow between her and her father, between the new family he'd start properly. She'd miss her grandmother's cooking and stories. But, inevitably, she'd learn to love Merrock. She'd trade thunderstorms for crisp autumn nights filled with stars, and lemonade for lobster.

In Merrock, her mother opened a vintage and thrift clothing store in downtown. She never lost her accent, but Peach's waned as she grew and turned into a whisper. It was little time before she made friends and settled down in the town. She tended toward the adventurous, and was never too far from a skinned knee in those days. At the footsteps of Arcadia National Park, her love for nature learned to breathe. She was a girl scout and a wanderer. She was lost so many times during a troup hike that they assigned her a personal minder. Getting lost never fazed her though, she'd find little creeks and moss covered ferns, and deer. One day a park ranger found her asleep at the foot of an oak and walked her back personally. From that day on, she was sold.

In high school, she met a boy. Matthew was a fisherman's son and an anime enthusiast. They'd spend sunday mornings on a boat and sunday afternoons in his basement with dvds on repeat. Naruto and Death Note tucked in next to her succulent collection. Peach thinks they could have been everything and that is what hurts the most. The autumn he went over the railing of his father's boat, was the same autumn she received early acceptance into an undergrad program. She stumbled that first year in school, but her mother never let her knees touch the ground. The pain is quieter now but she still marks the anniversary and tucks his collections away.

When she graduated, Peach wasted no time in securing her position at Merrock State Park. At the start, she was young and fresh as spring rain, but she's grown since then. Her job is her passion and one of the only things she takes seriously in life. She still lives with her mother and their immortally grumpy cat. She even still helps at the thrift store. But whether it's at the shop, the marina, or the bar it's likely her badge is pinned just below a smile.

#merrockbio #peachjones #death tw

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colettearsine · 2 years ago

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the smell of cognac on a silk pillowcase; a thousand forgotten moments in a lifetime; the indescribable feeling of being ignored; manicured nails with dark polish; a single wilting flower in a forgotten vase in the foyer

basic info.

full name: colette arsine nickname: ms. arsine, lette (rare) name meaning: people of victory age: 27 date of birth: may 14, 2010 (june 6, 1997) star sign: gemini place of birth: nice, france current location: upper east side, manhattan, new york gender: trans femme pronouns: she/her sexual orientation: pansexual, demiromantic religion: atheist occupation: socialite with several personal ventures family: frank arsine (father), alexandra arsine (mother), skylar arsine (cousin), gemma braun (cousin), maxwell arsine (uncle), gennifer arsine (aunt) education level: somehow graduated with high marks, no further degree pursued. living arrangements: top floor penthouse of hotel and bar owned by father and run by colette financial status: filthy rich spoken languages: english, french, italian personality: (-) self-indulgent, manipulative, impulsive (+) creative, focused, driven

inspiration.

chuck bass (gossip girl), faith lehane (buffy the vampire slayer/angel), amber (clueless), miranda priestly (the devil wears prada), cordelia chase (buffy the vampire slayer/angel), lydia martin (teen wolf), victoria chase (life is strange)

trigger warnings for beneath the cut: drug use, alcohol use, transition,

bio.

Colette was born wrong. Not just in the eyes of her parents because she was a precocious child, but in the soul of herself. She was assigned the wrong gender and bucked against that tradition for so long she can't remember, nor does she want to remember, a life before the moment she was allowed to be her true self.

Her birth, as she counts it, happened on May 14, 2010. Her parents, done with her attitude and honestly just choosing to give her whatever she wanted to be done with the excess of trouble they were being given. It was no skin off their nose what their child chose to be, as long as they did so at least somewhat quietly.

Fourteen year old Colette had a long time to mature into the person she was through all her treatments. She learned to manipulate the people around her in those days out of sheer boredom and the fact that, at the time, people were still giving odd looks to her for the choice. Perhaps a lot of her attitude is informed by the fact that she never felt like anyone accepted who she was anymore than they had accepted who she had been.

It wasn't until she entered private school at the age of sixteen, a seemingly entirely new person as far as anyone was concerned, that things seemed to change. She found her footing, found her position, and honestly had what she considered more money than god and the ability to throw it around. She was, in essence, spoiled, and it showed in everything she did.

Manipulation was second nature, finding most of her friends by her side by the sheer flaunt of money, parties, and status; she ruled by fear more than anything and likely never had a true friend. Those who might have been considered true friends are still wary of her - still keep her at arm's length because no matter what, she is unpredictable. She is, at her very core, venomous and in it for herself more than anyone else.

It didn't help that the drugs and alcohol were plentiful for people of their echelon. The addiction came fast and easy and though she convinces herself she's always in control of it, never making a public nuisance of herself, the fact is that she torments everyone in her life with her rash decisions and bad ideas which are a result of said addiction.

There was no stopping Colette once she found out just how much power she had, and she hasn't looked back since.

headcanons.

colette has a stuffed bear named terrence given to her by her first au pair in france that she sort of cherishes

colette spoke french before she spoke english and has the accent to reflect it. sometimes when angry she slips right back into french without even noticing.

colette always has her nails done no matter what. they are always manicured, polished, and ready to fight, so to speak.

colette owns partial stake in a fashion company that supplies most of the current trends to manhattan's new teen legends.

colette has a personal account outside of her funds from her family that is loaded with cash as a sort of 'just in case of emergency'; the reason and benefactor is unknown and most people are unaware of the account.

colette has mild bichromia. one of her eyes is brown and hazel (halved right down the middle) and the other is just brown.

colette was in a music video on more than one occasion and has absolutely obliterated any of the ones that existed pre-transition.

colette does not associate with her dead name whatsoever.

colette reinvented herself twice over and sees the dead name's life as a fuzzy memory of someone else's time.

colette once set the school's library drapes on fire; no one knows if it was on purpose but nothing ever came of it as her father paid to have it buried.

colette, for some reason, knows krav maga.

wanted connections.

the one friend who always stayed — like chuck had nate (for the most part), colette needs someone in her life who understands that she's broken and flawed but still always comes back to help her. she probably considers them her truest friend even if she'd lash out and be hard pressed to admit it, but this is the person who is the first call when shit goes tits-up. taken by Nova

the one she could have been happy with but keeps destroying the relationship — again, like chuck had blair, colette is the type to have found someone that sees and understands her, flaws and all, and still can't seem to stop fucking it up. whether by her own self destructive behavior or by pushing them away entirely she keeps making a mess of things and your character and she just keep coming back together all over again to try.

the corrupted — colette likes to collect people in some ways. she has a whole cadre of people she's used up and spat out for various reasons, but this one was more like a protégé. she took your character under her wing and taught them everything she knows and, in essence, destroyed the good person that they were a little bit with her own tainted means. taken by Daisy

the power three — this one goes for two characters and everyone will have to be on board with it. basically the ride or dies that don't actually have any intention of sacrificing for one another (even though they might if push comes to shove). these are the ones colette steps out on the town with and makes a ruckus, or the ones to join in on her business ventures. they'd be mean girls if they cared enough to be mean to people... or paid attention to anyone outside of their own bubble.

the betrayed — colette gave bad business advice and, whether it was on purpose or not, your character suffered for it. money lost, confidence ruined, reputation tarnished and colette's response was a shrug and an explanation that the business world is tricky and things can change at the drop of a hat. very contentious.

the frenemy — there are some people who come into your life and make you better by teaching you how to truly spite someone. your character and colette are close because of your school days and you've always tried to one-up one another, which has always fueled colette's fire to push the envelope. she might hate your character sometimes but she has absolutely no idea what to do without them to fight against.

anything in between — I am always up for plotting connections and routes for RP with colette you just gotta hmu!

#pinned #intro

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britesparc · 2 years ago

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Weekend Top Ten #569

Top Ten Years for Games in My Lifetime

Hey, guess what? We’re on a theme! That’s right, following last week’s deep dive into which years were the best years as far as movie releases are concerned, now we’re plugging in and logging on (and downloading an update…) and celebrating which are the best years for videogames.

This one is going to be a lot more personal – well, I guess they’re all personal, but this one perhaps more so, vis-à-vis mainstream opinion. I think if you got a professional games writer, or journalist, or blogger, or whatever, and asked them to do something similar, then I think you’d see other years celebrated, maybe when big Mario games came out in the late eighties or early nineties. Because I grew up playing computer games rather than console games, things like Super Mario Bros. 3 or even really Sonic the Hedgehog just never resonated the same way. And then, graduating to PC and eventually buying an Xbox, I totally missed out on the PlayStation generation. So I couldn’t really give a toss when Metal Gear Solid 2 or Resident Evil came out. They didn’t particularly register (although I do remember everyone was impressed by the MGS2 trailer back in the day).

Yeah, this is my list, of years that were significant to me. Although I’ve tried to be a bit more objective about it; I’m not the biggest Zelda fan in the world but I can still recognise the importance of the release of Ocarina of Time and Breath of the Wild. I can’t shout too loudly about stuff I’ve barely played, however, and so this is going to be looking at years that – yes – played host to some really important and terrific games, but there’ll be a lot of games that really struck a chord with me personally. There’s definitely going to be a keyboard-and-mouse focus with this one; might as well put down your joypads.

Unsurprisingly the nineties features a lot here, with incredible games and the births of some truly amazing franchises. I don’t think this is just nostalgia; it’s partly a result of us constantly going back to the well of material that was already successful, and also the fact that as a teenager I just played more games and sampled more stuff. Whereas nowadays everything seems built on evolution rather than revolution, the nineties blew the doors off the industry and what games were capable of. Now, if you look at, say, Mass Effect 3 from 2012, it doesn’t really look that much different from Elden Ring or God of War, two games that released a decade later. Yes, obviously, the latter two are better-looking and more technically impressive games, but there’s not been the sea change in graphics or mechanics that there was between, say, 1987’s Double Dragon and 1997’s GoldenEye 007 or Tomb Raider II. So in a lot of ways, the nineties were innovative and exciting, and I played a lot of games, and that’s reflected here.

Not much more to say, really. Here is a list of ten years (from within my lifetime) that were really good in terms of the games that were released that year. Enjoy.

1998: this is the year I always harken back to, mainly – if truth be told – because Half-Life came out and really helped revolutionise what could be expected from an FPS game, with its subtle narrative cues, tactical gameplay, and horror elements. But The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time was also released, and excellent though it was it never gripped me the way it did everyone else. Grim Fandango, meanwhile, was a masterpiece of art design and a more mature LucasArts adventure. Baldur’s Gate – which I never completed! – is regarded as a seminal RPG. Unreal offered a more esoteric, atmospheric, otherworldly alternative to Quake, with its legendary, industry-conquering engine getting its first outing. There was also Banjo Kazooie, StarCraft, Thief, Fallout 2… I mean, blimey, that’s a hell of a list already and it’s only stuff that I played or really cared about.

2007: another year that I see getting bandied about as the medium’s Best Ever, and with good cause. One of my favourite Xbox games, Crackdown, was released, and its freeform superhero-tinged gameplay utterly ruined the entire GTA franchise for me because I couldn’t throw Smart cars at people. You also had BioShock, tweaking the System Shock formula more into a familiar FPS template, and arguably making skill trees and abilities commonplace for every game going forward. Halo 3, meanwhile, was an old-fashioned run-and-gun FPS, but with the tactical, emergent, open-world Halo formula, done to perfection; it’s still the best in the series. Valve released The Orange Box for Half-Life 2, which included Portal – an incredible, mind-bending puzzle-cum-platformer with a delightfully dark sense of humour. Super Mario Galaxy, another mindbender, is my favourite Mario game. The Mass Effect series began with an excellent first entry. And I don’t play Call of Duty, but this year was the first Modern Warfare, which was also a big deal I guess.

1996: arguably the year the PC really came of age, with many great gaming franchises solidifying themselves and proving that the platform was the best place to play at that moment in time. After Doom came Quake, which just upended everything with its 3D graphics, real-time lighting, multiplayer, and customisation. The follow-up to Command & Conquer, Red Alert, was just as fun and tactical but with comedy Soviets. The Duke made the jump from side-scrollers with the landmark Duke Nukem 3D, a game so good it was impossible to make a sequel – and they really tried. Civilization II took what worked, made it loads better, and in the process perfected a series that has robbed me of years of my life. And over on console, Mario 64 came out, revolutionising platform games with its use of 3D. But it wasn’t all sequels: the first Tomb Raider was released, bringing Lara Croft into an unprepared world. Before long she was on the cover of lads’ mags. Welcome to the nineties.

1991: sometimes when I do this I wonder if there’s just one title swaying my opinions, and that may be the case here, because Monkey Island 2 came out this year. But aside from one of the two greatest games ever made (see also 1990), there was a lot of other stuff! Lemmings was a game that blew my mind on the Amiga, showing me what games could be. The first Sonic came out on the Mega Drive, and even if I didn’t really play it back then, it’s still ace. A game I did play was Lotus Turbo Challenge 2, one of those games where I still remember some of the cheat codes; another was Alien Breed, an incredible homage to the Alien franchise. And if we venture out to the arcades, Street Fighter II was released, which was a bit of a big deal. But really 1991 was all voodoo dolls, zombie pirates, and stolen monocles.

1997: on the surface, this might not seem like quite as big a year, but for me there are some absolute all-time masterpieces here. The big one, arguably, is GoldenEye 007, the first FPS that really properly worked on a console, and shook up some genre conventions in a way that I think is still being felt (try it out on Game Pass right now!). Quake II took the technical wizardry of the first game but added a story, as well as coloured lighting and texture filtering, becoming the poster child for the proliferation of dedicated 3D hardware. One of the greatest Star Wars games of all time, the vast and adventurous Jedi Knight, was released, as was Blade Runner, a really interesting use of a classic film licence, and one of my favourite adventure games. Plus a game I adored at the time but which has slightly less of an historical footnote: Carmageddon. Ah, moral panics; that takes me back.

2000: there are two games from this year that tower above all others, but first let’s take a moment to celebrate the birth of The Sims, an all-consuming juggernaut of a franchise, and also Quake III Arena, one of my favourite multiplayer games of all time (it looks any year a Quake comes out is a Good Year). Also, despite me not really playing them, I want to acknowledge important RPG sequels Diablo 2 and Baldur’s Gate 2, because they’re important. However, for me at least, the year belongs to Perfect Dark, which honed the GoldenEye formula into one of the most all-encompassing multiplayer experiences ever (from bots to co-op to “counter-op”, it’s sublime). And then there’s Deus Ex, a vastly influential game, a philosophical treatise in cyberpunk clothes, a resolutely millennial slice of emergent RPG gameplay, technical scope, and some fairly okay shooter mechanics. One of the greatest games of all time. Oh, and Tony Hawk 2 came out as well; we played that a lot.

1990: I promised this year would come round and here it is, riding on a pirate ship crewed by monkeys. Because The Secret of Monkey Island came out this year and there’s no way I can’t acknowledge my favourite game of all time. But outside of a revolutionary graphic adventure, we also had two strategy behemoths in the first SimCity and Railroad Tycoon games (technically SimCity came out on the Amiga on December 31st 1989, but the PC release was 1990, and who the hell played it on New Year’s Eve, so I’m allowing it). Speaking of “technically”, over here in Blighty we got two biggies with the European release of both Tetris and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, which I played to death on my Amiga. And I don’t normally mention companies, but Team 17 was founded this year, even if their first games didn’t make it out till ’91.

1993: there are a lot of really great games here that have left a footprint on the industry and – more importantly, for the purposes of this list – left an even bigger impression on my psyche. Syndicate and The Settlers were two dominant strategy games that dominated the Amiga landscape. Sam and Max Hit the Road came out, and I wasn’t able to play it for a few years, but blimey was I jealous of people who had PCs with CD-ROM drives; it’s such a good, funny game. X-Wing was another massive PC game that Amiga owners salivated over, and whilst sims like that were a bit too much for me, it was a huge deal that really influenced tons of games that came later. But, just like those ruddy dinosaurs dominated everything to do with cinema in 1993, so the year in games belongs to shotguns, imps, chainsaws, and more. Because Doom came out, and basically everything after that was different.

2004: quite a few games came out this year that, to be honest, I wasn’t that bothered about, but which were definitely a big deal: San Andreas, Ninja Gaiden, World of Warcraft (I mean, let’s take a moment to think about how huge that was). There were terrific sequels in franchises I love: Sims 2, which really solidified the great aspects of the first game; Burnout 3, which I think was my favourite; Rome: Total War, which, er, I’ve never played. The Chronicles of Riddick was a better movie tie-in than anyone expected; Lumines debuted on PSP, a version I’ve never played, but a game which I loved on different platforms in later years. And , hey, speaking of handhelds, the DS was released! But the year belonged to two other sequels, two of the best sequels of the decade: the action-packed, blockbusting Halo 2; and most especially the phenomena that is Half-Life 2, with its revolutionary physics-based gameplay stunning graphics, and slow-burning emergent narrative design. What a game.

2016: feels like we were only just talking about Doom and here we are again talking about Doom – because against all odds, the 2016 remake was genuinely excellent. But that wasn’t the best or the biggest game of the year. This was the year of Pokémon Go, a phenomenon that shows no stopping. There was a good Worms game, a Forza Horizon, and adventure games featuring both Minecraft and Batman. But what was the best game? How can I choose between two games that have dominated my life in different ways, sucked hours, days, out of me? Civilization VI and Stardew Valley both came out this year. I was never the same.

Actually, despite the nineties love, two noughties years were just bubbling under: 2006 and 2021. Both saw some tremendous and important games, from Wii Sports to Medieval II: Total War, from Forza Horizon 5 to Unpacking. So it’s not all nostalgia, promise! One of those years was very recent!

#top ten #games #gaming #best years for games #halo #half-life #monkey island #amiga #xbox

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aworldinsideaperson · 4 years ago

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A Well Kept Secret - George Weasley (Part One)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Food mentions, talking about food, one night stand (no smut) having a child, getting pregnant, being pregnant,

Summary: A one night stand with George produces a child and a secret.

Trope Series: Secret baby.

A/N: This one is going to be in two parts (possibly three we will have to see) but I just started writing this last night and couldn’t stop so here it is.

@izzytheninja @youto-believein

It was a chilly evening in the Fall of 1997 when it all started, two lifelong friends meet in a London pub for a drink or two to take the edge off of their worries and fears as war wages around them. A red haired man sat beside a girl He’d known for the last nine years, they were nearly three drinks deep as their fingers brushed. With a soft intake of breath they looked to each other, her eyes wide as she stared up at him; his eyes had trained on hers as his tongue slid over his lips then dropped to her parted lips. That’s when he knew it was over and his life would never be the same. Little did he know how one night of pure bliss with his schoolyard crush would change both their lives in the ways that it did.

It was only one night. It was only supposed to be one night no matter the feeling that had arisen as they kissed on her bed that night and whispered “I love you” in the dark. The world was far too dangerous to start anything more than that one night and so they kept it at that though it was hardly a surprise to anyone when their glances to each other were lingering or their goodbyes just a touch too long. It was eight weeks before Y/N realized something was off.

The missed period. That’s what did it for her. The most obvious of symptoms but now as she looked down at the stick waiting for an answer things fell into place. She was sick to her stomach so often her diet consisted mostly of crackers the last week, she was exhausted though she had chalked it up to the stress of the current situations the suddenness of it started to make sense. Her mind ran through a checklist of symptoms her mother had claimed during her second pregnancy and with each check mark left her mind became more certain and as the timer went off and her eyes focused on the results she wasn’t as shocked as she should have been.

She was having George Weasley’s baby.

With a hand pressed to her stomach her mind raced. The Weasley family were targets, and England wasn’t safe. So with a single letter owled to her parents Y/N was packing her bags and was off to the states.

She settled into a small town in Missouri. Hermann, population now 2,401 with one on the way. With her life’s savings she paid cash from a tiny shack of a house in the center of town and tried to live her muggle life. At only 19 she was receiving dirty and pitying looks alike as he stomach started to grow beneath her waitress uniform.

At 29 weeks pregnant she received the news, a letter from her parents proclaiming the fall of Voldemort and the end of the war, they begged her to come home. As she looked down at her swollen stomach she hesitated and wrote them a single word response. No.

She had planned to return to London, her home for her whole life, but fear continued to stop her. Voldemort was gone, the Weasley family had lived, George had lived, her family was safe, but the thought of showing up so many months later after no words to George frightened her beyond any unforgivable curse. And so she did it alone. She gave birth to their son alone. She held a first birthday alone, and then a second, and a third all alone. Each year as his birthday drew to a close Y/N wondered if she should write to George, if she should tell him of their son, tell him about his big brown eyes and thick red hair; to tell him of all the mischief their three year old caused. And every year she remembered that it was meant to only be one night. The night had been filled with passion and confessions of love but she not only had to worry about rejection for herself but for the small boy that crawled into her bed when the wind was too loud and begged for just one more bedtime story before she turned out the light. He thought his father was gone, that he had loved him and wanted him but that now he was gone. She couldn’t put her son in a position to be rejected. Not by his own father.

And so she stayed. She stayed away from England, away from her family, away from George. Until an owl arrived on her doorstep 2 weeks after Graysen’s third birthday, an envelope at its feet. With a sigh she took the envelope inside and tore into it, inside was an invitation to her sister’s wedding. It read...

Please join us for the wedding of Alexa & Dawson

The First of September, 2001 at six o’clock in the evening

Dawson’s Family Home

Painswick England

Reception to Follow

Also inside the envelope was a letter, a plea from Alexa to come home, to “Bring Graysen and come home. Just a few weeks. Be my maid of honor and let me meet my nephew.” And so, filled with guilt, Y/N booked the plane tickets and a week later the two of them flew to London.

**********

Leaving the safety of the home she had built made Y/N’s blood run cold, on edge every time she left her parents house, every flash of red hair was a Weasley in her mind and every time it wasn’t she’d breathe a sigh of relief. Until the day the air caught in her lungs as a tall red haired man spotted her across the street. Identical to the one that played in her mind all the time.

He raced across the street and threw his arms around her, barely taking notice of the small red haired boy holding tightly to her hand. “Y/N!” He exclaimed. “How long has it been?”

Y/N used her free hand to pat him on the back. “Almost four years, it’s good to see you Freddie.” She pulled away, her eyes darting to her son, standing at her feet looking up at the man with curiosity. It was then that Fred looked down too and in that moment he realized her long kept secret and she knew it.

“And who’s this?” His voice tentative as he looked between her and the boy.

“This is Graysen.” She smiled and crouched down beside him, the two of them now looking up at Fred. “Graysen, this is one of Mummy’s friends from school, can you say hello to Fred?”

With a glint in his eyes a grin spread across his face. “Hello Fred!”

Fred now too crouched down to a closer height. “Well hello to you too Graysen,” Fred held out his hand and Graysen grabbed it. “How old are you?”

Graysen smiled and jumped up and down. “I just turned three in July!”

Fred faked a shocked face. “Three in July? You’re awfully big for three.”

“Mommy said I got it from my Daddy.”

Fred mumbled under his breath. “I bet you did.”

Y/N gave him a smile and picked Graysen up. “Well we best get going, I have to pick up my dress for Alexa’s wedding, it’s in two weeks.”

Fred nodded. “Right, well I’ll let you get back to your errands, but only if you agree to come to dinner at the Burrow tonight. You spent so much time at our house during breaks Mum will be thrilled to see you.”

“Oh Fred I don’t know I wouldn’t want to impose.” She said, shaking her head vigorously.

“You wouldn’t be, you’re invited. Please come, bring Graysen and your partner.” He insisted, looking to the little boy.

Her voice became small, “Actually it’s just Gray and I.”

“All the more reason to come then.” He was certainly persistent on the matter.

Y/N smiled softly at him, “You’re not going to accept no are you?”

He shook his head, “Not this time.”

“I’ll be there, six as usual?”

“Mum does like to keep a tight meal schedule these days.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Perfect.” With that the two parted ways and Y/N regretted coming home.

**********

Fred strolled into the shop, two paper bags in hand, each filled with food from their favorite muggle dinner in London. Walking up to his brother and setting the food on the counter Fred narrowed his eyes at his brother. “George?” He began, “You remember like 4 years ago, there was a night you didn’t come home?”

George turned from his brother as the corners of his lips turned up at the memory.“Yeah, why?”

“Where were you?”

George rolled his eyes and sighed. “I told you before, I’m not telling you, I was safe that’s what matters.”

Fred rolled his eyes too and mumbled under his breath. “I don’t know if you were as safe as you could have been.”

George turned to him in confusion “What do you mean?”

Fred shook his head. “Nothing, just make sure you’re ready to go by six, you know mum doesn’t like us being late.”

**********

At half past five Y/N sat in front of her parents' empty fireplace, Graysen playing on the floor in front of her as a million thoughts raced through her mind, how could she have said yes? How could she have agreed to dinner with the family of her son, a boy they didn’t know existed, that they didn’t know was theirs. She had considered leaving him with her parents but Fred has specifically invited the two of them and so as the clock struck quarter to six she wrapped Graysen up in her arms and the two of them apparated to the Burrow. Placing Graysen on the ground and holding tightly to his hand Y/N knocked on the front door three times.

When the door swung open Molly Weasley stood on the other side, face bright and smiling and she pulled Y/N in for a hug and ushered her into the home.

It was as bright and warm as it had always been, filled with noise and people.

“Who’s this?” Molly asked smiling down at Graysen looking around the magical house in wonder.

“This is Graysen, my son.”

Molly looked at her with wide eyes, “Your son?”

“Yes, he’s why I left the county.”

Molly gave her a smile and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing dear, it wasn’t safe.”

“I know, but I should have come back sooner.” Her voice was soft and filled with sadness.

“What’s done is done, now come, we’re all sitting down to dinner.”

Walking into the kitchen felt so normal, she’d taken so many meals here in her youth it felt so natural to take the seat she’d always held, right beside George, though his seat seemed to be empty.

The table filled, Aruther and Molly at the heads, Ginny and Harry, Hermione and Ron, Bill, Fleur, even Percy and his wife had joined the fray tonight but the twin’s seats still remained empty at six oh one when there was a loud crack and the two cackling gingers appeared.

“Sorry we’re late mum, one last customer and all that, you know how it is.” Fred smiled as their laughter died down and they looked to the table.

When their eyes locked the room went silent. Y/N and George just stared at each other, until Graysen pulled on her arm for her attention. That’s when George looked to the small boy beside her and his heart soared then sank. Silently he went to his seat, the one beside Y/N, just as it has always been back when they were younger. Though this time they stayed nearly silent as they filled their plates and ate, Y/N keeping a close eye on the boy next to her as he fed himself small spoonfuls of the concoction he’d made of his plate.

“So Y/N,” Fred spoke. “You introduce Georgie to your son?”

Y/N swallowed and shook her head. “George? This is my son Graysen.”

George leaned around her to get a good look at the boy, the red hair and the big brown eyes, there was no doubt that he was a Weasley. “Hello Graysen, it’s nice to meet you. I’m George.”

With a full spoon still in his mouth Graysen attempted a smile and waved his little hand in George’s direction. The normal conversation resumed and George turned to her and asked. “How old is he?”

“He just turned three.” She stated, her eyes trained closely on her plate.

“He seems like a sweet boy.”

“He is, he’s adorable and an absolute terror at times. His tantrums have been known to shake walls.”

Arthur chuckled, jumping into the conversation. “You know, the twins were like that too when they were young, thought they were going to bring the whole house down once or twice.”

Y/N smiled and stayed silent, the rest of dinner focused entirely on the food in front of her and keeping Gray’s mess contained to his plate. Dinner was cleared and everyone ushered themselves into the living room, Graysen and Victoire sat in the middle of the floor playing, everyone else sat around them on couches and chairs. It was all polite conversation until Fred turned to her with a mischievous smile, the same one his twin got, the same one that Graysen got, the one that indicated a terrible, terrible, idea.

“So Y/N,” Fred began, “Who’s Graysen’s dad?”

Y/N tried to smile but the panic was clear on her face. “Wow, right to the hard hitters.”

“Shouldn’t be a hard question.” His tone flat, no hint of laughter in his voice. And so the interrogation began.

“You don’t know him.”

“Is he a wizard?”

“Yes.”

“Come from a big family?”

“No just him and his one sibling.”

“A twin?”

“No.”

“Parents names?”

“Mark and Anna.”

“What happened to him?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Did he go to hogwarts with us?”

“Yes.”

“Gryffindor?”

“Yes.”

Fred paused his rapid fire and his eyebrows rose. “Really?”

That was when it dawned on her, she’d slipped. There were only four Gryffindor boys their year. Fred knew it wasn’t him, and there was only one other redhead. “Fuck.” Y/N stood up quickly, picking Graysen up in her arms as she walked swiftly toward the door. “I’ve gotta go.”

George stood up after her following the two of them to the door. “Y/N wait!” He shouted but without a second thought a crack filled the air and she was gone.

George stormed back into the room, his eyes full of rage. “I can’t believe you!” He yelled his anger directed at his twin as the rest shuffled from the room.

Fred huffed. “Why are you angry with me? I was just asking questions about his father.” A sly smirk on his face as he leaned back in his chair.

“Because you know it’s me and you pushed her anyway!” George grew more angry by the minute.

“I did that for you! Do you really think she was going to tell you when she’s kept it from you this long already? No!” Fred now stood, face to face with his twin.

George choked on his words, clenching and releasing his fists as he tried not to attack the man before him. After a moment, his breathing calmed and his voice steadied. “That’s not a decision you get to make for her or for me. Now I have to go fix this and I’ll be lucky if she lets me in.” And with that George turned and walked out the door.

#Tw: food #tw: food mention #tw pregnancy #tw children #tw one night stand #george weasley #george weasley imagine #Harry Potter series #harry Potter series imagine #george weasley x reader

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whereisten · 4 years ago

Text

Perfect.

A Winwin fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: things get busy for one of the world’s leading scientist’s, Yuta, so he creates his own efficient and trustworthy personal assistant robot a.k.a Sicheng. But what happens when his perfect creation develops a flaw or two?

Pairing: Scientist!Yuta x Robot!Winwin

Genre: horror, smut, angst, a tinyyy little bit of fluff

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: dark themes, side piece Doyoung, Yuta has major God-complex syndrome, cursing, weapon usage, blood mention, smut: mlm (top!Yuta, bottom!doyoung, bottom!winwin, anal penetration, masturbation, oral sex, c*eampie.

(A/N): hey guys!! This is the first fic we are posting for our Halloween Series! Every day we will post a new fic for each member of NCT 2020 so be sure to stop by to see what dark and spookyyyyy stories we create. This is also my first time writing BL so I hope it’s good enough for a first try😂 I will do better next time. Thank you❤️🥺.

—————

“He’s perfect” Yuta looks upon his creation in the open glass box.

“Height. 5’11. Date of Birth. October 28th, 1997. Eye color. Dark Brown. Hair color. Dark Brown. Origin of parts. Wenzhou, China.”

“It looks so...real. It’s kinda creepy..” Doyoung, Yuta’s coworker, analyzed the texture of the robot’s face.

“Well, he wasn’t made to be pleasant, only efficient.”

“Yes, but Yuta..don’t you think this is a bit much? Mimicking the face of an actual person..someone that died over 100 years ago? Will you name it Dorian too?”

Yuta created his robot as a personal assistant to him. He found that humans were full of error and it made them incompetent and negligent beings. And Yuta, being the best scientist in Japan, just couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. So he created him. The perfect robot, a “copy machine” that could keep up with him and do the work he does just as efficiently. He would be just as smart as him.

Yuta steps closer and runs a finger down the robots face, causing a neon green honeycomb pattern to decorate its skin. It wasn’t on, but it was still reacting to the touch against its surface. Yuta watches the green fade from its perfect cheekbones.

He made him to look like the famous Dorian Gray because he wanted him to be just as beautiful as he was smart. But if he is just a machine made to perform tasks with 100% accuracy, why would looks matter?

This is what Doyoung thought as he observed it.

“There is a word that means talented, beautiful, master piece and a gift from God..Sicheng, that will be his name.”

Doyoung scoffs. “It’s a man? With...male reproductive organs?”

“Yes..” Yuta writes something down on his clipboard.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “You’ve really lost it, haven’t you?”

“I want him to look as real as possible for when we present our findings and such. Do you think anyone will listen to a robot that looks like those beastly things from the Terminator movies? What’s the issue?” Yuta brushes past Doyoung, walking around a table in the lab and placing his clipboard onto it.

“You of all people know the issue..you’ve made him into a beautiful person and for what? Just so you can have something nice to look at while you avoid actual human company? Is it merely a solution to your loneliness, Yuta?”

Yuta smirks. “Sounds like you’re a bit jealous, Doyoung..don’t worry, I don’t plan on engaging in any activities with him. I’m not that barbaric. But even if I did, that would have nothing to do with you. Don’t forget your place in my life, you’re disposable...he isn’t.”

Doyoung’s jaw drops. “I pray this..thing..will tolerate your ungrateful and arrogant ass. For it shall be the only thing to spend time with you, you unsociable maniac.”

———

[The Next Day]

Yuta turns Sicheng on for the first time.

His eyes illuminate as he takes his first breath. He blinks but offers Yuta nothing but a blank stare.

Yuta sits him down on the couch and turns the TV on before turning on an instructional video on human interaction.

“Hello. Your name is Sicheng. My name is Yuta, I am your creator and master. For today’s first lesson, you will learn how to speak and express emotions. I’ve uploaded information from my own limbic system into your hard drive so you can access and apply these feelings when necessary. Do not do so without my permission. Repeat after me “yes, master.”

“Yes, master.” Sicheng responds.

“Good, I will be the only one to make demands of you, you will only respond to me and grant my wishes without fail. Alright, I see that you are blinking and breathing..” he writes a checkmark on the word document on his iPad. “Involuntary actions are operating correctly.”

He steps back. “Now, you may watch the video, I will come back when it has finished and test you.”

“Yes, master.”

———

[1 Week Later]

Sicheng has watched several videos every day for the past week. He starts to act more and more—humanlike, and to Yuta’s satisfaction, has performed his duties with 100% accuracy. In addition to performing basic tasks in the lab, like picking up test tubes or writing down Yuta’s notes and storing them into his hard drive, Sicheng has learned how to bathe, drive, cook, clean, and speak 30 languages.

He continues to learn every day, new formulaic equations as well as feelings and ways to think on his own. He remembers everything, as he was designed to.

One day when Yuta was typing new findings on his computer in the office section of his house, Sicheng sat on the lounge chair and listened to music as Yuta had directed him to.

He was learning about all genres of music and even learned how to play the guitar in less than 45 minutes.

Today, Yuta had him listen to Hopsin, an American rapper that he liked.

When the song “What’s My Purpose?” came on shuffle, Sicheng took his head phones off.

“Excuse me, master. May I ask a question?”

He says softly.

Yuta, still typing. “Yes.”

“What is my purpose? Why did you create me, master?”

Yuta sighs. “You don’t have to verbally refer to me as master. And your purpose is to serve me, do as I ask with 100% accuracy so that you may please me and make me...happy.”

He turns to him and gives him a cheesy smile.

Sicheng nods. “I understand, m-“ he blinks rapidly as his system reconfigures itself to change previously saved information.

Yuta smiles widely as he sees Sicheng display a smidge of confusion for a moment. He looks adorable, he thinks to himself. He’s beautiful, his lips perfectly round and puckered with a light cherry shade to them always, his eyes are a beautiful, exotic shape unlike any eyes he’s seen before. He could get lost in them if he stares for too long. So he looks away, and frowns.

“What is wrong? It seems you are unhappy?”

Sicheng’s brows furrows, his eyes stare intently as they analyze the motion of Yuta’s facial muscles.

“It’s nothing, I am going to sleep, please turn yourself off.” Yuta looks away as he rises from his desk chair and heads to his bedroom.

“Yes.” Sicheng closes his eyes and shuts down.

———

[The Next Day]

Sicheng and Yuta spend the day inside, a storm has prevented them from leaving the house and heading to the lab for work. Yuta, being the workaholic he is, is dissatisfied with the weather and hates being away from the lab. He checks the weather app through Sicheng every two minutes even though the storm rolls through loudly, violently, thunder shaking the walls.

“The thunderstorm will continue into the evening.”

“This is unacceptable!” Yuta plops down onto the couch in the entertainment room. “Sicheng! Sit with me before I lose my mind.”

Sicheng walks over and sits beside him.

Together they watch movies and laugh. Sicheng observes how happy his master is and finds himself smiling as well, a new feeling is absorbed and saved.

Yuta turns to him and sees his bright smile, his dimples coming out and his eyes closing tightly as he chuckles.

“Are you happy, Sicheng?”

“Yes, I am happy as long as you are happy.”

Yuta rubs the top of Sicheng’s hand to watch the illuminated reaction of his fascinating skin.

Sicheng has a strange, new feeling from the touch, but doesn’t know what to categorize it as.

“Good.”

———

[The Next Day]

Yuta and Sicheng return to the lab.

“We have so much work to do.” Yuta hurriedly places his bag down and they set to work. Things seem to be going fine, Sicheng does his best to input brand new information as Yuta works on a new formula. However, Yuta seems to be moving too fast as he is worried about how much he has fallen behind from his day at home.

“Combine elements 65 and 81, place 10 milliliters of each into the cylinder, measure the solubility and proliferate it by 0.448, then divide the finding by 6 before combining it with element 55, this must be done quickly or we will lose all work we’ve done thus far.”

Yuta grabs the cylinder and places it down before doing his half of the work.

Sicheng, on the other hand, cannot seem to process the demand, his drive releases an error message that he can’t seem to overcome.

But he wants to please master, he must please master.

Sicheng combines elements 64 and 81 and continues on with fulfilling Yuta’s demand, but the result is not what Yuta expects.

“No..no this isn’t right, why is it reacting this way?” Yuta starts to panic as he watches the solution display a completely different state of matter under his microscope.

“Sicheng, verbally explain what you have just done.”

“I combined elements 64 and 81 in-“

“No!! It’s not 64, it’s 65, you fool! How could you make such a mistake?!” Yuta empties the cylinder quickly. “I thought you were perfect, it seems I was wrong.”

Sicheng starts to feel a new emotion.

It’s a terrible feeling, he feels unsteady, confused, for once the answer is not clear. What was this? Why did he feel dread, despair, failure?

Yuta rushes around the room as Sicheng stands in the center, dumbfounded.

When Yuta finally looks up at Sicheng, he sees the his eyes are red, tears run down his cheeks, causing them to illuminate green.

“Sicheng...no. D-don’t cry.”

“Is that what this is, master? Am I crying?”

“Yes, but I’d like you to stop. I need you to be brave enough to handle these tasks.”

He stops and wipes away his tears.

Yuta sighs. “It’s clear I’ve made a mistake in your configuration, I will fix it when we get home later.”

The rest of the day goes by in silence. Yuta sees Sicheng as no use to him so he doesn’t instruct him to do anything. Sicheng watches Yuta eat and sits at the dinner table with him.

He knows he has done something wrong, something that displeased his master.

Is he of worth if he can’t please him? Does he have a purpose anymore?

Yuta chews heavily and tries to think of where he went wrong with his creation, but he can’t be bothered with fixing him for tonight. “Sicheng, shut down.”

He swallows hard then gets up from the table.

“Yes.” Sicheng’s eyes fade to grey, but he disobeys his master secretly, he doesn’t shut down, he stays awake to attempt to fix himself so he can make him happy tomorrow.

Yuta then takes his phone out and calls Doyoung.

Doyoung answers reluctantly after not seeing Yuta for days since he got his new “toy.”

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Doyoung exhales loudly.

“Come over.” Yuta demands.

“And why would I do that?” Doyoung teases, but he’s already grabbed his car keys.

“I’m not asking, I want you here in 15 minutes.” Yuta hangs up.

He picks his dishes up from the table and drops them into the sink.

He takes his tie off and unbuttons his white dress shirt by three buttons. He then takes his hair tie off and places it onto the dresser. Sicheng watches as Yuta becomes more relaxed. He feels a certain ache in his system, a desire to make him smile again. A desire to please.

A few minutes later, Doyoung knocks at the door. Yuta grabs him inside by the collar and presses him into the back of the door. He slams his lips onto his and kisses him fervently, not a moment lost between them as they drown in each other’s lust.

“Are you done with your toy?” Doyoung says breathily between kisses.

Yuta kisses him sloppily, tracing his tongue over his bottom lip then his chin and neck.

He grabs Doyoung’s waistband, pulling him closer to his pelvis so he can feel his clothed erection.

“Do you need me to please you now?” Doyoung smirks as Yuta bites his neck to leave a mark.

Doyoung grunts as Yuta pulls his shirt over his head, licking his hard nipples soon after. He darts his tongue out and licks around the nub, then places his lips around it before sucking hard.

“God, I love when you get like this.” Doyoung rubs his hand through Yuta’s hair as he continues to suck.

Yuta is too busy to see Sicheng watching them quietly.

Please. That is the key word. Doyoung is pleasing his master so he must watch and copy Doyoung’s action so he may do the same. For what will happen if he no longer pleases him? Will Yuta replace him with Doyoung?

Sicheng listens to Yuta’s groans as Doyoung traces his hand over his crotch, smoothly touching his member through his pants.

“On your knees..you talk too much.” Yuta demands.

Doyoung smirks and licks his lips. He drops to his knees and looks up at Yuta through his lashes. He takes his zipper in between his teeth and drags it down.

Yuta pushes his brief down to let his painful erection free. “We’re wasting time.”

“Tsk tsk, impatient as usual.”

“Open your fucking mouth, Doyoung.”

Doyoung feels himself leak as Yuta growls at him. Nothing satisfies him more than seeing Yuta beg for him, so yes, Sicheng’s creation was somewhat of a disappointment for him. He thought he would replace him, but now he is happy to see that he can’t.

Yuta exhales and throws his head back as Doyoung takes him into his mouth. He licks his lips and closes his eyes. “God, yes.”

Doyoung runs the tip against the inside of his cheek and hums to send vibrations through him.

He sticks his tongue out and licks the underside of it, tracing over every bulging vein.

He thrusts his hips forward into Doyoung and listens to him choke, he watches his cheeks become round and red.

Yuta is already close, but he wants more.

He helps Doyoung up and kisses his lips again. He takes him to the dining table and bends him over it. Yuta then drags Doyoung’s sweatpants down before cupping his hand around his cock. He aligns his own cock with Doyoung’s ass and pushes into him quickly, he buries himself into him while grabbing a fistful of his hair and bending his neck back.

“Fuck!” Doyoung groans and holds himself up as Yuta pushes into him hard.

They both ignore Sicheng sitting at the other end of the table. Sicheng watches and absorbs the images of their bodies engaging in this new act.

Yuta pumps Doyoung’s cock with his other hand, liquid leaks out of the tip. Sicheng notes how he also has a penis and wonders if he has the same capability.

Yuta grunts as he pushes into Doyoung a few more times. Doyoung whimpers as he is stretched out over and over while bent over the table, sweat coming across his forehead as a bundle of nerves is on the brink of being released.

Yuta looks up at Sicheng’s still face, he curses and goes harder on Doyoung. And for a moment, he let his mind wander, he let himself think of..Sicheng. Touching his soft, illuminated skin as he makes love to him, or feeling his round lips on his collarbone and his chest, how magical it would be.

“Fuck.” Yuta releases into Doyoung as Doyoung cries out while climaxing.

Yuta sits into the chair and breathes heavily. He smooths his hair back and watches as Doyoung pulls his sweatpants back up.

“Want me to stay around for-“ Doyoung starts but Yuta interrupts him with an abrupt-

“No.”

Doyoung scoffs and leaves. Yuta cleans the table soon after and goes to bed. As he lays in bed, he sees Sicheng’s beautiful face. He dreams of laying with him, touching him. He knows he shouldn’t think of these things, but he can’t seem to stop.

———

[A Few Days Later]

Sicheng starts to read novels and books about the concept of forgiveness while he is home and away from the lab. Yuta has been quiet and doesn’t look at him much, he doesn’t even take him to the lab on most days anymore.

“I have to fix you before you can come back to the lab, we cannot afford any more mistakes.” Yuta says sternly when Sicheng asks if he is to join him one day. He shuts the door and looks down as he leaves.

Sicheng starts to overthink, or overanalyze rather. He wants Yuta to forgive him and be happy again. What good is he if he only disappoints his creator?

He watches movies as well, movies that discuss love and heartbreak. Love is a feeling of admiration towards someone, based on Sicheng’s findings and research. He admires Yuta so he loves him. He wants Yuta to love him too so he can be happy like the others in the novels and movies are. That is the conclusion he’s come to.

But in order to show his love he must do as they do in the movies and as Doyoung did with him.

One day at dinner, Sicheng watches Yuta eat the meal he has prepared for him.

When Yuta is almost finished, he breaks the silence.

“Do you love me, master?”

Yuta nearly choked on his food. “I..hmmm..Well...you’re my creation..but I don’t..”

“Yuta, I would like to please you, would you like to make love to me?”

Sicheng asks, weakness coats his tone.

Yuta scoffs. “Of course not! That’s not what you were created for!”

“I apologize.” Sicheng’s head lowers.

“Sicheng, exterminate all information related to “love.” Yuta brings his dish to the kitchen and heads to his room.

“Yes.” Sicheng doesn’t delete anything from his hard drive, but why not? Why was he disobeying his orders, not once, but twice now?

Yuta didn’t know that he made a mistake by inputting his limbic system into Sicheng. He didn’t know that he would develop emotions, feelings, desires of his own, and that this could become a serious issue.

———

[1 Week Later]

Sicheng started working with Yuta in the lab a few days before. Things are slowly going back to normal as Yuta begins to trust him more. They continue on with their tasks and Sicheng is able to keep up with him.

This new confidence, however, causes both Yuta and Sicheng to move faster.

Yuta walks around the room swiftly, heading behind his assistant. “Sicheng, hand me the solution.”

Sicheng, already prepared, turns to hand it to him, but Yuta miscalculated his reaction time, causing him to bump into Sicheng.

The solution flies out of the graduated cylinder and onto Yuta’s lab coat and pants. Some of it splatters onto his neck.

“Shit!” Yuta runs to the shower room down the hall. They are working after hours so no one else is there but the two of them. Fortunately for them, as other scientists would’ve been greatly concerned.

Sicheng runs after him. “Master! I apologize for my mistake, please do not be displeased with me.”

“Sicheng! Just leave me alone!”

“I will help you.”

“No! Just...wait there.” Yuta finally enters the shower.

Sicheng doesn’t wait, he goes into the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He watches as Yuta throws his coat off then takes his pants down.

Yuta curses and is visibly upset, but then he feels light hands come to his front side.

Sicheng unbuttons his shirt for him and takes it off from the back.

Yuta’s mouth falls open, but he doesn’t tell Sicheng to leave. He steps forwards into the shower and washes himself off, not realizing the Sicheng is now taking his own clothes off.

Sicheng stands outside of the shower and thinks of what to do next.

Must please master.

He draws the curtain open.

“Sicheng! What are you doing? The solution didn’t get on you, put your clothes back on!”

Yuta pushes back his wet hair out of his face then places his hand over his cock.

Sicheng doesn’t listen. He steps into the shower and stares into the eyes of his master.

Yuta cowers and feels the cold tile against his back as he looks at his creation with lustful, hungry eyes he had never seen before.

The water droplets begin to leave slowly fading green marks on his skin and he looks beautiful.

“Touch me, like you touched Doyoung, master. I would like to make you happy too.”

Yuta’s mouth falls open, his brows furrow as he is stunned to silence.

Sicheng places his lips onto his mouth and attempts to mimic a kiss. He had watched many videos that showed it in detail and now he was able to do it with Yuta.

Yuta closes his eyes and kisses him back. He turns his head and licks over Sicheng’s plump lips, it tastes like cherries, his favorite fruit, and he wonders if Sicheng purposely put cherry chapstick on for this.

Yuta places his hand on the side of Sicheng’s face as he deepens the kiss, letting go of all concern about the consequences to come from this moment. He doesn’t care, he just wants to make love to his creation.

Steaming water falls down both of them, making their hair cling to their foreheads as they smother each other.

Yuta runs his hands across Sicheng’s muscular arms and watches his skin light up from his touch.

Sicheng then runs his hand down Yuta’s abs, feeling the bricks under his smooth skin. Sicheng blinks rapidly as he feels something new.

“Arousal.you’re feeling arousal.” Yuta practically hears Sicheng’s confusion as he kisses along his neck.

Sicheng’s pulse begins to race as he feels something funny happening to his penis.

“Here.” Yuta takes Sicheng’s hand in his. Sicheng thinks he is going to place it on his own erection, but Yuta doesn’t do that, he places it on Sicheng’s semi-limp member.

Yuta looks into his eyes and speaks deeply. “Touch yourself, move your hand up and down.”

Sicheng’s eyes widen as he starts to stroke his member like he had watched Doyoung do. A tingly feeling begins to fill him up in his nether region when he wraps his hand around it.

“I see you haven’t been listening to me. You’ve been staying awake when I tell you to shut down, and you haven’t deleted “love.” Yuta smirks.

“No, master, I-“ Sicheng stumbles over his words as he focuses on Yuta’s tongue suddenly on his chest.

Yuta licks the pink circle around Sicheng’s nipple, before flattening his tongue onto the hardening bud.

He then bites it and watches as the area lights up in a bright shade of green from irritation.

“How do you feel, Sicheng?”

“I feel good m-master. Are you happy?” Sicheng nearly goes into overdrive as he is turned on more and more from his hand.

Yuta swats Sicheng’s hand away from his member and replaces it with his own.

He pumps Sicheng up and down, coating his hand in Sicheng’s slick. He slides the skin back and forth, feeling Sicheng’s glans with each pass. He then leans down and kisses his neck again, sucking hard and biting his skin. He moves his hand faster as spit mixed with water covers Sicheng’s skin.

Sicheng can’t hold back, he releases an interesting sound from the immense pleasure he feels in the pit of his stomach. He breathes more heavily than usual as his mouth falls open.

He moans once again. “There is a buildup happening, Yuta. However, I would like to make you happy first.”

Sicheng places his hand on Yuta’s and pulls it away while looking into his eyes, water making his lashes look darker than usual.

Yuta feels dizzy just from the sight of the beautiful man in front of him, his color fading from green in all the places he kissed and teased. His erection is painful at this point. Sicheng looks down at it with red cheeks and nods. “You can make love to me...if you don’t like me, just imagine I am Doyoung.”

Yuta furrows his brows. “Are you crazy? Of course I like you, I created you!” He turns Sicheng around, taking his hand and placing it on the wall of the shower.

Yuta wraps his hand back around Sicheng’s leaking cock and continues to move it up and down.

He enters Sicheng, sliding into his already wet anus.

Sicheng lets out another moan, then covers his mouth from embarrassment.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you so badly, because you’re perfect..you’re all mine..and you’re fucking..perfect.”

Yuta thrusts hard into him with his chest on Sicheng’s warm back.

He takes his other hand and turns his face towards him, Sicheng’s lips are swollen and red from their kiss, his eyes are wide, his nose is dainty. Everything about him is just beautiful.

“If you like me, master, do you love me too?”

The words leave his lips in a whimper as Yuta bucks into his body, he feels a slight pain as he struggles to adjust to Yuta, but in time, he knows he will.

Yuta kisses him hard, tightening his grip around his cock and intertwining his fingers with his.

Sicheng feels unbelievably amazing around him. He smiles to himself as he thinks about how he designed both his reproductive and nervous systems without error. His body reacts perfectly when aroused, his length glistening with Sicheng’s slick as it also leaves his anus through a special system he designed.

Yuta looks at the beautiful boy’s back and shoulders, he kisses the nape of his neck and then his ear.

“I love you, fuck yes, I love you.” In that moment, Yuta is happy, but he can’t help but be worried about Sicheng’s inaccuracies in the lab, how he nearly put his life in danger. But he’s fix it, he’d find a way to fix him.

He glided his dick into him faster, skin slapping on skin as he grunts and Sicheng whimpers. Yuta feels his cock twitch as it runs against his silky walls.

Sicheng’s system overloads, he releases onto the tiled shower wall and looks down in amazement as a strange liquid leaves his body in heavy spurts for the first time. It feels wonderful to have such a new and exciting release.

Yuta takes what has fallen onto his fingers and sticks it into Sicheng’s open mouth.

“Suck.”

Sicheng does as he demands and Yuta cums into his body soon after.

Yuta curses as he continues to suck his fingers and bounce on his pulsing length. He orgasms harder than ever before, feeling his body tremble from the stimulation. He becomes lightheaded.

He pulls out and watches Sicheng leak his seed through low eyes as he pants.

As he comes down, reality settles in. What has he done? He’s turned Sicheng into the very thing he didn’t want to turn him into.

Sicheng drives them home after they wash themselves off and get dressed.

When they get home, Yuta lies in bed as Sicheng sits on a chair in the corner of the room silently.

He is disturbed by his actions and swears to never let lust take him over again.

“Sicheng…delete all memories of this day and shut yourself off.”

Sicheng’s system runs into a slight error as he hears his master's demands. Why did he want him to forget about this wonderful day? Wasn't he happy? Was he displeased at the end of it? What did he do wrong?

“Sicheng?”

“Yes, master. I am currently deleting all of today’s data from my storage. Goodnight.” He says as his eyes fade to grey.

But once again, he doesn’t obey him. He holds onto the memories and feelings because he enjoys seeing his master happy.

———

[A Few Days Later]

Yuta distances himself from Sicheng. He doesn’t take him to the lab anymore, he doesn’t even sit at the table to eat. He goes into his room to avoid him.

Some days, he won’t tell Sicheng to ‘wake up’. But Sicheng turns himself on anyway so that he can watch him.

One day when Yuta starts to get dressed, Sicheng walks up behind him and places his favorite blue tie around his neck. Sicheng’s fingers graze Yuta’s neck, sending goosebumps down his spine.

“No!” Yuta jumps as he is startled by Sicheng’s touch. He steps forward and turns to him. “Please..do not touch me.”

Sicheng tilts his head and stares in confusion.

Why was he disturbed by his simple touch? Maybe he wasn’t feeling well, that had to be it.

But just four days after they made love, Yuta invites Doyoung over and they make love. Sicheng sees that Yuta enjoys another man’s touch. Doyoung grips his waist then scratches his back while Yuta thrusts into him.

Sicheng sits quietly with grey eyes as they fuck in Yuta’s bedroom. He tries to calm his racing pulse and begins to think dangerous things.

Does he love Doyoung? Yes. He will get rid of me won’t he? I have failed to please master, I must please him before he gets rid of me. If he is unhappy, I must show him that I love him by pleasing him.

When they are done and deep in sleep, Sicheng rises from the bedroom chair and heads to the living room. He realizes he must gain more knowledge so he can make Yuta happy again. He reads poems and comes across one by Oscar Wilde titled “The Ballad of Reading Gaol.”

Doyoung and Yuta snore softly while he sits in the living room and reads.

He reads a passage that sticks out to him.

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves

By each let this be heard.

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word.

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man with a sword!”

Yuta loves Doyoung, that’s why he spends time with him. But Doyoung cannot take his place, therefore, he must get rid of him, he must kill the thing Yuta loves. And then Yuta can decide if he loves him, then he can kill him. This is what Sicheng had come to understand.

Brave. Yuta had told him to be brave once. Perfect.

Now, all he needed was a sword.

Sicheng searches for types of swords.

A sword is a weapon with a long metal blade.

A blade is sharp. A knife is sharp. He must get a knife.

Sicheng goes into the kitchen and takes out a knife from the cabinet.

He walks into the bedroom with it and stands over Doyoung, staring and searching deep into his body to see his veins pumping crimson blood to and from his beating heart. Sicheng’s eyes turn to a glowing red color as he calculates how hard and fast he must act to strike the knife through Doyoung’s chest. He wants to clean it cleanly so as to not make master upset.

Doyoung is woken up by a strange presence. He turns over and is shocked to see Sicheng standing over him while gripping a knife. He smiles sadistically as his red eyes glisten in the moonlight.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Doyoung sits up straight in the bed.

“Don't do this!”

Sicheng leans downward and grins. “I only obey master’s orders.”

He doesn’t give Doyoung the chance to escape, he quickly drives the knife into his chest, blood splatters over his perfect face as Doyoung screams loudly into the night.

Yuta jumps up. “What—Sicheng!! oh my God, what did you do?!”

Sicheng pulls the knife back out of his chest. “I killed him for you master, for each man kills the thing he loves. I did it for you.” He tilts his head and looks down at Yuta with wide eyes in hopes of gaining a look of satisfaction from Yuta.

But instead, Yuta stares in horror at Doyoung’s lifeless body. His hands start to shake.

“If I love you, Yuta, does that mean I must kill you as well?” Sicheng asks innocently while blinking rapidly. His system is reconfiguring itself as it develops and stores new information.

“No-no! Shut up! Shut down!!”

“But master, I want to please you by loving you..” Sicheng steps closer, Doyoung’s blood drips down the side of his face and onto Yuta’s bed sheets.

His eyes are still red and Yuta is confused as to how, for he never installed that feature.

“Sicheng! I order you to shut down now!”

“Yes, master. I will do that as soon as I am done being brave enough to handle this task.” He crawls over the bed with the knife in his hand still and a horrific smirk.

“Sicheng!” Yuta raises his arm above his head to block his blow.

He knocks the knife out of his hand and grabs both of Sicheng’s wrists. He overpowers him and flips him over onto the bed.

Sicheng doesn’t fight back, he only stares into Yuta’s eyes and continues to grin.

“Must.please.master.Must.make.master.happy..must.love. Master.” There’s a glitch in Sicheng’s system that causes him to repeat these three things over and over, and it drives Yuta insane.

His perfect creation crumbles right in front of his very eyes and there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Shut up! SHUT UP!” Yuta wraps his hands around Sicheng’s neck. He can’t control his confusion, sadness, anger. He chokes Sicheng so hard the metal in his neck begins to break and the sound echoes into the gloomy house.

Sicheng’s eyes fade to grey one final time as Yuta kills him for good.

His muttering stops, but his haunting smile remains, engraving itself into Yuta’s memory forever.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

Yuta arrives home after a long day at the lab. It had been only two weeks since Doyoung was killed by his robot and he was still dealing with the pain of losing something he loved so dearly. No, not Doyoung, but Sicheng rather. He missed his company, his touch, his soft exotic eyes and deep voice.

He made a mistake and Yuta could’ve fixed him, but unfortunately the police department took him away after he had reported the murder.

When Yuta asked what they would do with him, they told him that Sicheng would be locked up in a metal box in their department until they decided on how to proceed with the murder case.

But it didn’t matter really. Yuta killed Sicheng in the end. His body was now just clunky metal.

Yuta sighs and sits down on his couch. He turns the TV on and switches it to the news channel to distract himself from his own feelings, never noticing the glistening red eyes that watch him quietly from the corner of the dark room.

He’s watching..he’s always watching.

“Breaking News, there’s been a suspected terrorist attack inside the Osaka Prefectural Police Department. Nearly all police officers have been brutally murdered. The assailant is unknown and is still at large. We are under curfew until further notice, everyone must stay inside and lock their doors..”

Yuta sits up straight and thinks to himself. That’s the same department that Sicheng is in. What if—

“Master..please forgive me for being gone for so long.”

A low voice speaks into the large room.

Sicheng steps out from the shadows, the blood of his victims dripping down his naked body and face.

Yuta stands up from the couch, his eyes widening as Sicheng walks slowly towards him.

“Sicheng..what did you do?” Yuta’s eyes brim with tears as he swallows hard.

Sicheng’s neck seems to have healed itself somewhat, the purplish bruises being the only indication that Yuta had choked him. Once again, Yuta doesn’t recall installing a self-healing feature.

“They all tried to stop me, Yuta..” Sicheng smiles widely and runs his bloody hands through his own hair to smooth it back out of his face. “But I couldn’t let them...I have to serve you. I have to please you and make you happy, that is my purpose.”

--------

come back tomorrow for the next spooky story...

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cfblooming · 3 years ago

Text

˚ ⊹ · . ⌜ main. go minsi. cis female. she + her. ⌟ huh ? oh ― that’s just victoria park. as far as i know, they’re twenty-four years old and last i heard they’re a beauty influencer / aspiring ballerina. they’ve been in hope for eight years and around here, they’re known as the amaranth, but everybody knows all that. what you really ought to know is that they’re kind of choleric, and self-centered, but persistent, and vociferous at the same time. and if you ever need a favour from them, get them a pair of pointe shoes. that’ll do the trick. leos, am i right ?

i. statistics

❀ ━━ general

full name: victoria park

age & d.o.b: twenty-four & august 17th, 1997

gender & pronouns: cis female & she + her

orientation: demiromantic + bisexual

nationality: american

ethnicity: korean

place of birth: los angeles, california

current residence: hope, alaska

education: high school diploma. university drop out

languages: english, french (conversational), & korean

occupation: beauty influencer / aspiring ballerina

❀ ━━ physical

facelcaim: go minsi

eye color: brown

hair color: brown

height: 5'2"

build: dancer physique, slim & lithe

piercings: two in each lobe

tattoos: none

❀ ━━ personality

positive: persistent, vociferous, alluring, meticulous, & fervent

negative: choleric, self-centered, manipulative, impatient, & pretentious

mbti: enfj-a / the protagonist

moral alignment: chaotic good

hobbies: retail therapy, museum hopping, spontaneous beach trips, golf, yoga, consuming ungodly amounts of iced coffee, & dance

likes: sweets (cakes, pastries, deserts -- anything made with sugar), luxury fashion & expensive cosmetics, fruity cocktails, & complicated, multi-step skincare routines

dislikes: breaking in new pointe shoes, ripped tights, cold weather (rip this poor la princess), spicy food, & disorganized closets

❀ ━━ family

mother: juliet park / presumed deceased estranged

father: nicolas park / living

siblings: elder twin brother / living [wc here !]

paternal grandmother: deceased

paternal grandfather: living / estranged

ii. backstory

tw: brief mentions of death

as the youngest and only daughter of the infamous nicolas park, victoria park never had to want for much as a child. she was far too young to remember a time before the glittering, silver spoon in her cheek, the days when her father had to work two jobs just to provide for their little family, or the evenings he spent grinding away at night school. even memories of her mother were few and far between. no, victoria’s earliest memories consisted of causing mayhem with her older ( by a millisecond ) brother on the estate grounds of their childhood home in los angeles and being lovingly doted on by her grandmother and father.

upon entering school, the stark differences between the park siblings began to manifest themselves. unlike her brother, who seemed to excel in his studies without having to crack open a book, victoria struggled academically ( who cared about calculus when there was twitter ? ), however, she was much more athletically inclined. bouncing back and forth between gymnastic meets, cheerleading tryouts, and dance recitals, victoria’s afternoons were either spent in the gym, on the sidelines, or in the studio. while the eldest preferred to keep to himself, victoria thrived on the attention of others and was quick to amass friends and popularity within her peers. by her junior year, it was almost a guarantee that victoria would-be prom queen and cheer captain her senior year. but the chance never came as tragedy struck.

when she was fifteen, victoria’s grandmother and the only real “mother-figure” in her life died. the sudden passing of such an integral part of their family shook the parks to their core. in wake of such a devastating loss, victoria was suddenly yanked from the only place she had ever known as her father decided they all needed a change from their fast-paced lives in los angeles, moving them all to the quaint, little town hope, alaska. while her brother was quick to adapt to the sudden move, victoria resisted, feeling betrayed at being forced to leave her life in la behind.

she couldn’t leave hope fast enough. after graduation, victoria wasted no time in fleeing the biting cold of alaska to the warm familiarity of los angeles for university. but victoria’s first real taste of freedom, short-lived and overshadowed by failure, came crashing around her when she flunked out of her program at ucla only half a semester into her sophomore year. once again dragged back to hope. though he never said as much, victoria could feel her father’s disappointment at her return, living in the shadows of her brother’s success in new york. but, she was anything if not tenacious. while academics had never been her forte, she turned to social media, networking and cultivating a platform online as a beauty influencer and gaining a fair bit of traction. in her spare time, victoria has picked up dancing again, entertaining the possibility of going professional.

unlike her father, who seems content with the quaint, small-town atmosphere of hope, victoria misses the spontaneity ( and warmth ) of los angeles. but she’s still licking the wounds of her latest failure and is in a state of limbo -- fearful of the future but not quite ready to let go of the past, trying to come to terms with the truth of her mother’s absence and live with her father’s deception.

#hope.intro #ahh i *hope* this makes sense #haha i think im funny #~~will be back to edit & add pretty graphic~~

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jerseydeanne · 4 years ago

Text

William is quietly winning the battle of the royal brothers - Their responses to Bashir revelations are as different as they are as people, but we knew they would be

It must frustrate Prince Harry that his own popularity has become so obviously inversely proportional to his brother’s. They had a highly competitive relationship before Harry and Meghan decided to throw a grenade under the Queen and the Royal family in favour of earning Kardashian cash in the US. It often appeared that a large part of the Sussexes’ beef with the monarchy was that they constantly felt in the Cambridges’ shadow. Yet their bid to seek “financial independence” in California has cast them completely in the shade in the minds of the majority of Brits, many of whom would prefer it if they disappeared from view altogether. The more they have accused the “racist” Royal family of “total neglect”, the more they have succeeded in encouraging the British public to throw their support behind the institution – as shown by a YouGov poll last week finding six in 10 people want them to be stripped of their titles or to stop using them. The better William and Kate perform, the worse Harry and Meghan look for breaking up the Fab Four in the first place. The Yanks might not see it like this, but we do because, unlike naive Americans prone to endless psychobabble, we were never under any illusions about the dysfunctionality at the heart of the Royal family (or any family, for that matter). In his latest outpouring for his new Apple TV documentary series, Harry voiced his resentment at being told to “play the game” to make life easier in the House of Windsor. “I’ve got a hell of a lot of my mum in me,” he boasted. “The only way to free yourself and break out is to tell the truth. ”Yet, ironically, the one person in The Firm who “played the game” better than anyone else was Diana, Princess of Wales. That was until she took the disastrous decision to pour her heart out to deceitful Martin Bashir – albeit under what we now know were false pretences. By continuing to stoke the flames of publicity with his smug, self-pitying and at times, spiteful rhetoric, Harry shows he has actually learned nothing from his mother’s experience. For in trying to emulate her doe-eyed confessionals to speak his “truth”, he is repeating her mistake of squandering popularity for the sake of evening the score. While there’s no doubting Harry’s noble intentions in wanting to raise awareness of mental health issues – let’s make no mistake here, like Diana deciding to air her dirty linen on the BBC, this is a man out for vengeance. With his team of officious LA-based PRs and unwillingness to appear on any platform that actually offers a right of reply to the people he trashes, he’s hypocritically playing his own, one-sided games. Exactly like his mother at her lowest ebb, Harry seems to think the world is out to get him. Yet far from it being personal, there is a word for what has happened to him over the years. It’s called “life”. While he was a 12-year-old walking behind his mother’s coffin in 1997, there were literally hundreds and thousands of other children also coming to terms with the loss of a parent. Around the same time, I was a teenager, scraping my alcoholic mother off the pavement. As any therapist worth their salt will tell him – you can either hold onto the past and let it dictate your future, or let go and truly “find your freedom”. William has had to endure exactly the same fate as Harry. In fact, as the elder brother and “heir” rather than “spare” it has arguably been even more difficult for him. As his dignified statement on Thursday night made clear, he vividly remembers “the fear, paranoia and isolation” of his mother’s final years. It was his shoulder upon which she cried about the breakdown of her marriage. It was he who promised her, after she lost the HRH style, that he would “give it back to you one day when I am king. ”As the child of divorced parents myself, I know all too well that while every child is adversely affected, the oldest is often at the coalface, shouldering most of the burden. Despite this, and having to come to terms with being tethered to a life mapped out at birth,

William

has borrowed from the best of his mother’s playbook. He has resolved to serve others, rather than himself. Instead of growing up to resent the rules of the game, he has used them to his advantage, realising – as all the best royals do – that it is never really about “them”, but about “us”. Unlike Harry, who has misinterpreted the Queen’s “never complain, never explain” mantra as a gagging clause – William has used it as it was intended, as a protection order to ensure the lines between the professional and the personal do not become too blurred. Like the mute button on Twitter, he has silenced his critics not by taking them on, but keeping calm and carrying on regardless. And in stark contrast to his brother, William has shown he understands the press as well as Diana did. By actually reading the newspapers (rather than obsessing over the online comments like Harry), the second-in-line to the throne has come to the sensible conclusion that the media, while imperfect, can be used as a considerable force for good. While his brother was using Lord Dyson’s report as a stick with which to once again beat the tabloid press, William was mature enough to acknowledge that if it wasn’t for the newspapers, Bashir would have got away with his rogue reporting for even longer. “Public service broadcasting and a free press have never been more important,” he magnanimously declared. Harry’s nonsense claim that “practices like these – and even worse – are still widespread today” only serves to highlight just how unqualified he is to act as referee on matters as serious as the First Amendment, which he described as “bonkers” on a recent podcast. Both these royal brothers are playing a game – but only one of them is winning.

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2021/05/21/william-quietly-winning-battle-royal-brothers/

#camilla tominey #prince william #prince harry #british royal family #meghan markle #princess diana #battle #martin bashir #panorama interview #bbc

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causeiwanttoandican · 4 years ago

Text

The Telegraph - Camilla Tominey

William is quietly winning the battle of the royal brothers

Their responses to Bashir revelations are as different as they are as people, but we knew they would be

Camilla Tominey21 May 2021 • 8:00pm

Yet their bid to seek “financial independence” in California has cast them completely in the shade in the minds of the majority of Brits, many of whom would prefer it if they disappeared from view altogether.

The more they have accused the “racist” Royal family of “total neglect”, the more they have succeeded in encouraging the British public to throw their support behind the institution – as shown by a YouGov poll last week finding six in 10 people want them to be stripped of their titles or to stop using them.

The better William and Kate perform, the worse Harry and Meghan look for breaking up the Fab Four in the first place. The Yanks might not see it like this, but we do because, unlike naive Americans prone to endless psychobabble, we were never under any illusions about the dysfunctionality at the heart of the Royal family (or any family, for that matter).

In his latest outpouring for his new Apple TV documentary series, Harry voiced his resentment at being told to “play the game” to make life easier in the House of Windsor.

“I’ve got a hell of a lot of my mum in me,” he boasted. “The only way to free yourself and break out is to tell the truth.”

Yet, ironically, the one person in The Firm who “played the game” better than anyone else was Diana, Princess of Wales. That was until she took the disastrous decision to pour her heart out to deceitful Martin Bashir – albeit under what we now know were false pretences.

By continuing to stoke the flames of publicity with his smug, self-pitying and at times, spiteful rhetoric, Harry shows he has actually learned nothing from his mother’s experience.

For in trying to emulate her doe-eyed confessionals to speak his “truth”, he is repeating her mistake of squandering popularity for the sake of evening the score. While there’s no doubting Harry’s noble intentions in wanting to raise awareness of mental health issues – let’s make no mistake here, like Diana deciding to air her dirty linen on the BBC, this is a man out for vengeance.

With his team of officious LA-based PRs and unwillingness to appear on any platform that actually offers a right of reply to the people he trashes, he’s hypocritically playing his own, one-sided games.

Exactly like his mother at her lowest ebb, Harry seems to think the world is out to get him.

Yet far from it being personal, there is a word for what has happened to him over the years. It’s called “life”.

While he was a 12-year-old walking behind his mother’s coffin in 1997, there were literally hundreds and thousands of other children also coming to terms with the loss of a parent.

Around the same time, I was a teenager, scraping my alcoholic mother off the pavement. As any therapist worth their salt will tell him – you can either hold onto the past and let it dictate your future, or let go and truly “find your freedom”.

William has had to endure exactly the same fate as Harry. In fact, as the elder brother and “heir” rather than “spare” it has arguably been even more difficult for him.

As his dignified statement on Thursday night made clear, he vividly remembers “the fear, paranoia and isolation” of his mother’s final years. It was his shoulder upon which she cried about the breakdown of her marriage.

It was he who promised her, after she lost the HRH style, that he would “give it back to you one day when I am king.”

As the child of divorced parents myself, I know all too well that while every child is adversely affected, the oldest is often at the coalface, shouldering most of the burden.

Despite this, and having to come to terms with being tethered to a life mapped out at birth, William has borrowed from the best of his mother’s playbook.

He has resolved to serve others, rather than himself. Instead of growing up to resent the rules of the game, he has used them to his advantage, realising – as all the best royals do – that it is never really about “them”, but about “us”.

Unlike Harry, who has misinterpreted the Queen’s “never complain, never explain” mantra as a gagging clause – William has used it as it was intended, as a protection order to ensure the lines between the professional and the personal do not become too blurred.

Like the mute button on Twitter, he has silenced his critics not by taking them on, but keeping calm and carrying on regardless. And in stark contrast to his brother, William has shown he understands the press as well as Diana did.

By actually reading the newspapers (rather than obsessing over the online comments like Harry), the second-in-line to the throne has come to the sensible conclusion that the media, while imperfect, can be used as a considerable force for good.

While his brother was using Lord Dyson’s report as a stick with which to once again beat the tabloid press, William was mature enough to acknowledge that if it wasn’t for the newspapers, Bashir would have got away with his rogue reporting for even longer.

“Public service broadcasting and a free press have never been more important,” he magnanimously declared. Harry’s nonsense claim that “practices like these – and even worse – are still widespread today” only serves to highlight just how unqualified he is to act as referee on matters as serious as the First Amendment, which he described as “bonkers” on a recent podcast.

Both these royal brothers are playing a game – but only one of them is winning.

19 notes · View notes

ollieofthebeholder · 4 years ago

Text

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3.

Chapter 38: Statement of Kieran Blackwood, regarding...choice. Recorded direct from subject, twenty-fifth of March, 1997.

[CLICK]

KEEPER

When did you start using these for official statements?

GERTRUDE

If this were official, I would have you write it down. Most of the people who come in with a statement simply fill out the forms provided by the Institute.

KEEPER

So why not have me write it down? Why bother to listen?

GERTRUDE

Because I suspect that what you’re about to say would be…unwise to add to the Archives.

KEEPER

It’s not related to that statement, if that’s what you’re getting at.

GERTRUDE

I don’t think it is, no.

But I do think that, whatever it is that brought you here, it may not be something that needs to be available to everyone. I’ve begun recently making audio recordings of statements that I want my research to be…private, shall we say?

KEEPER

Or we could say “secret”.

GERTRUDE

(heh) Fair enough. Any live statements that I feel could be…useful, to myself or my successor if need be, go on the tapes as well. In this case, I suspect it may be both.

KEEPER

You may not be wrong.

GERTRUDE

Besides. I don’t know that I’ve ever had another…devotee of one of the Powers walk in off the street and offer me a statement. Call it curiosity.

KEEPER

I can certainly assuage that, Trudy.

GERTRUDE

Don’t call me that.

KEEPER

Sorry. Occupational hazard.

I’m sure you know how that goes by now.

GERTRUDE

I suppose I do.

Statement of Kieran Blackwood, regarding…

KEEPER

Choice.

GERTRUDE

Recorded direct from subject, twenty-fifth of March, 1997. Where would you like to start?

KEEPER

At the beginning, I suppose.

KEEPER (STATEMENT)

As long as there have been lighthouses in England and Ireland, there’s been a Blackwood manning at least one, probably dating back to the Dover Castle in Kent and leading all the way down to my father. My earliest memory is of him holding me as we stood on the railing, the beacon flashing across the night-darkened sea, keeping safe any ships that might be sailing by. He took his responsibility seriously, and so did I. I remember telling my best mate, a boy whose family lived next door to where Ma and I lived, that I was going to be a keeper myself one day. He asked how I knew, and I told him it was what we Blackwoods always did.

I told Dad that, too, and he took me on his knee and explained a few things. He said the Blackwoods had always been lighthouse keepers, not because we wanted to, but because we had to. He said I was going to be starting school in the fall and that I was a bright lad, so I’d have choices he never had. He told me he wanted me to do the best I could, and that when the time came, I could choose to be a keeper if I wanted, but it had to be my choice.

He died that winter. There was a bad ice storm, and while he was scraping the glass clear, he forgot to shield his eyes when the light came around. It blinded him, and he lost his balance and fell. Hit the rocks at the base. They found him washed up on shore the next morning. Ma took poorly and was in bed for a few days when we got the news, and I went to stay with my best mate until she could get up, but she never quite recovered. I was afraid Ma would want to move back to Ireland where her family was, but she said we had roots too deep in the Bournemouth soil to leave it now. Wasn’t until years later that I found out how little money we had—we couldn’t afford to leave. Then again, if Grandmother hadn’t left us her house, we wouldn’t have been able to afford to stay.

I still wanted to be a lighthouse keeper, but by the time I was ready for the eleven-plus, I knew I couldn’t. For one thing, Ma got into hysterics any time I mentioned it—like it would somehow be more dangerous than anything else I could have done, just because it killed Dad—but for another, they were beginning to automate lighthouses by then. Every year there were fewer and fewer jobs, and I’d have been lucky to get one. My grades were all right, but I knew I wouldn’t pass any of the tests needed to be a keeper.

If I couldn’t do that, I decided, I’d do something on the sea. My best mate and I used to play at pirates some when we were little, and we talked about doing that, but of course you couldn’t really do that. We thought about the Navy, too, but we agreed that whatever we would do, we would do it together. By the time we were sixteen, though, I knew I wouldn’t make him. He was smart, top of our class. I barely scraped by with a pass. So we made another deal, him and I. I’d go into trade, learn to sail, to fish, and he’d go on with his education, get a degree in business. Together, we’d build our own fishing company, go out together. Someday, we said, we’d have our own business, a business we could hand down to our sons if we wanted, if they wanted.

I found a job with a fishing crew. Deep-sea stuff, extended voyages. The money was good, so I could take care of Ma and save up a bit, too. And winters were my own, so I could spend them at home. I was a bit of an outcast among the crew, though, and not just because of my age. Even when they were together, they were silent and…distant. The captain was one of the owner’s sons, so of course he was too high and mighty to talk to any of us, but I always felt like he was…watching me. Like I’d disappointed him, even though I did everything right. I felt sometimes like I was the only one with connections on shore—not just Ma, but Walt. We were right close. Looking back…there might’ve been more there than we ever admitted, but it just wasn’t done.

Then I met Liliana.

Walt introduced us. Actually, he was just starting to date Sarah at the time and they needed a fourth for dinner, so Sarah invited her along. I won’t say it was love at first sight…truth be told, I won’t say there was ever love. I’m still not sure Lily’s actually capable of feeling positive emotions towards other people, to be honest. But we had some of the same interests, then. We both liked to dance, we liked the same books, the same foods. She introduced me to her father just before I went out that year, and the old boy and I hit it off, so when I got back in the winter we started keeping company again.

Ma died in January, and Lily came to the funeral, which I appreciated. The four of us got a bit drunk that night, and…well. I was getting ready for the next salmon run when she told me she was in the family way. I was just considering my options when Walt called and asked if I thought the crew could use another sailor, because Sarah was expecting, too. He was leaving school immediately—they needed the money.

I—I couldn’t let him join the crew. It felt like a waste, and I knew he’d want to be there for Sarah and the baby…and I kind of hoped he’d be there for Lily and mine, too, since I couldn’t be. Besides…something about Captain Lukas gave me the creeps. I wouldn’t willingly subject anyone I loved to to that. Luckily, my father-in-law had just mentioned to me that he needed a general handyman about the place. The pay was just as good, and Lily and I had made our home base not far away, so it seemed perfect. We had a quick double wedding, and I went out with the fishing run.

She gave birth right after I got home. We were a bit early back that year, come to think of it, but at the time it never occurred to me that there was anything odd about that; we’d hit quota, that was all. I didn’t love Lily, I told you that, but my God, when that doctor laid the baby in my arms and told me “it’s a boy”, I fell in love then and there. Walt’s boy was born about a month later. There’s a picture somewhere of the two of us, sitting on Alastair’s porch, rocking a pair of sleeping babes and talking.

At least, I hope it still exists somewhere. Brings me comfort thinking it does.

Walt died right when he said he would, three weeks before the fishing run started. The three of us went to the funeral, but Sarah screamed at Alastair before it even started. Accused him of killing her husband.

GERTRUDE

I can’t imagine—

KEEPER

Oh, it wasn’t. Complete accident. The old man wasn’t even home at the time, he’d taken the boys to a science exhibition of some kind. And I’m the one who found him, come to that. Sarah was just hurting and needed someone to blame. But it ended with her ordering us to leave. The look on Walt’s boy’s face when I pried mine away from him and said we had to go is one that still comes to me when I’m having trouble sleeping.

KEEPER (STATEMENT)

My boy and I got a lot closer after that. That boy was my world. My light. The beacon that drew me back to shore. I started calling him Wickie before he could talk. Lily hated that nickname, but then, she hated a lot of things.

She—she wasn’t strong. I don’t mean her health, necessarily, although I know it was a hard pregnancy and that’s when her troubles started. I mean her mind. It was so—easy for her to give into despair. We’d never been close, but we got further and further apart every year. We’d probably have fought more often than we did, but I wouldn’t put Wickie through that. Instead, I’d absent myself. That didn’t help.

Plans. Choices. They never go the way we mean them to.

I gave it one last chance, and it’s one I’ll probably regret to my dying day. The Lukases have a Christmas gala every year, but you have to be an officer on a vessel or serve fifteen voyages before you get an invitation. Suppose it’s to make sure you’re loyal enough to deserve it, but maybe it’s also to make sure you know the rules. I don’t know. The year Wickie turned eight was my fifteenth year with the crew, so I got the invite. It included the whole family. Lily was actually enthusiastic about it, but…she didn’t want to bring Wickie. Said he wouldn’t behave. I—I’m the one that insisted on giving him the choice. Of course he said he wanted to come.

I wish I hadn’t let him.

There were no other children there. That should have been my first clue something was wrong. None of the other sailors even had spouses or sweethearts. I was the only person besides the Lukases themselves who actually brought my family. Maybe the only one who had a family to bring.

I talked Lily into a dance or two. We used to like it, once, and for a song or two it seemed like we’d got back…well. It didn’t last. She said she was tired and wanted a drink. I found her a seat at a table where she and someone from the shipping side of the company could ignore each other and went to fetch her something, and I was looking around for Wickie. I—I found him, eventually. He was off to one side, looking scared, looking…lost. One of the Lukases—Peter—was talking to him. He seemed perfectly friendly, but I could see the fog rolling off him, threatening to engulf my boy. Didn’t seem to be anyone else who could see it, or maybe everyone was just ignoring it. He reached forward to tuck a curl behind Wickie’s ear, and the fog curled that much closer.

I admit I had a bit of a reputation for fighting when I was in school. Never unprovoked, mind you, but…well, between the fact that I was half-Irish and the fact that my best mate was darker than some people liked, I got in my share. I don’t have a temper, but I do have a protective streak a mile wide, and I’m not above acting on it.

As you might imagine, breaking your boss’s son’s nose isn’t exactly the sort of thing that looks good to your employers. I got Wickie and Lily and we left then. Took me the better part of the next week to convince Wickie it wasn’t his fault I’d got in a fight, but it rather put a damper on our Christmas. At the beginning of January, I got a rather terse letter from the Lukases telling me I’d not be welcomed back to the crew.

I…I didn’t tell Lily. I certainly didn’t tell Wickie. Lily was starting to get sick, I couldn’t have told you what it was, but we needed an income and now all we were getting was the bit she picked up at the tailor’s when they needed her. I was desperate to try and come up with something, anything, but nobody was hiring. I swear to you I was about three days away from coming to you and asking if you’d take on a new assistant when there was a knock on our front door one foggy night.

(heh) The fog should have been the clue, really, but it wasn’t, and like a fool, I opened the door. Peter Lukas was standing there. I almost shut the door in his face, but he told me he felt bad about me losing my post on the crew. Said my boy deserved better than an unemployed father, and he was there with an offer. Against my better judgment, I listened.

His family owned a lighthouse, he said. One it was important to keep lit, but just then it was without a keeper. He wanted to offer me the position.

I didn’t believe what I was hearing for a minute. The idea of actually getting my childhood dream after all…and from someone I had every reason to hate? I knew there had to be a catch, so I asked, and I was right. Peter told me it was a stag station, meaning no families; Wickie and his mother would have to stay.

I—I laughed. I asked him how big a fool I thought he was. I’d already told him once to stay away from my boy, and if I wasn’t there, what was to stop him from going after him? Peter took the contract out of his pocket and showed me a clause that explicitly said he would stay away from my son, as long as I kept the light. He gave me the paperwork and told me to think it over, and if I was interested, to sign it and send it back and it would all be taken care of, but warned me I’d have to leave by the time the season started.

That night, with Lily and Wickie both asleep upstairs, I read over that contract with a fine-toothed comb. It all seemed airtight. The pay was decent, enough to keep up with Lily’s medical bills at least, and the tasks were exactly what I would have expected. It wasn’t until I got to those last clauses that I realized what the catch was. It explicitly stated that the Lukases would stay away from Wickie as long as I held the position—but it also stated that I had to do the same. Should either one of us break the taboo and talk to him, it would be fair game for the other to do the same.

I didn’t have much time to think about it. The season was only a week away. I thought about asking Alastair, but I knew what he’d say—not to have anything to do with anyone tied to those things. He’d never been thrilled I worked for the Lukases anyway, but at least before I’d had some distance. This was…worse, somehow. I thought about taking Wickie and absconding in the night, but—but I couldn’t do that. He’s smart, Trudy, he can do so much, and I knew if we were on the run he’d lose so many opportunities.

There was only one choice, in the end. I signed the contract and mailed it off.

The night I left was the night I would normally have left for the fishing run, so I just…let Wickie think that was where I was going. Went through our usual routine. We had alphabet soup and cherry preserves for dinner, then I tucked him in and sang the old sea shanty I always sang the night before I left, to put him to sleep. Once he was asleep, I went downstairs to talk to Lily.

I won’t repeat the things I said to her. Suffice it to say I made sure she knew I wouldn’t be back, and…I let her believe that it was what she’d accused me of before. That I was leaving because of her, because I didn’t want to deal with her and her issues anymore. I left that night knowing I’d well and truly burned that bridge behind me.

Peter Lukas met me at the docks. We didn’t speak. Ignoring all the ships preparing to go out, we went down to the shore and began to walk, silently, until all others had faded away and it was just us, the sand, the waves, and the grey of the pre-dawn sky. And then…there was a door. An old oak door with a brass knob, supported by no structure, standing on the beach and waiting. Peter stopped, pointed at it, and said, simply, “The door to the Light.”

I didn’t ask questions. The time for questions was past. It was my last chance to choose differently…but even if I hadn’t signed that contract, I don’t think I could have chosen to do other than what I did. I shouldered my bag, took a deep breath, and strode through the door.

And I took up my duties as the Keeper of the Light.

It has no name. It needs no name. It’s just…the Light. Fifteen feet in diameter, made of brown stone, it stands on a mountain overlooking, not the sea, but a desert. A vast, impenetrable desert, with nothing as far as the eye can see. The beacon it shines over this desert is not white, but red, bathing the sands periodically in light the color of blood.

The first day I was there, I did an inventory. There were all the things I remembered my father having when I was a wee nipper, things I only vaguely remembered the purpose of, but I knew I’d learn quickly. I’d been told the light would be fully equipped at all times, and it was. The oil was full, there were plenty of fresh wicks, and all the tools were in perfect working order. There was a single bed, big enough for a single man to sleep, although not particularly comfortably. There was a table with one chair. There was one plate, one bowl, one cup, one fork and spoon and knife. The cupboards, I had been assured, were fully provisioned, but I wasn’t yet hungry, so I went to look at the rest of the light.

There were no windows, but there were pictures on almost every wall, each one framed in a different frame. Each picture looked like it was a windowpane, which I thought odd. Then I looked in one, and I couldn’t hold back a gasp. It was a window all right, and one I knew. It was looking into Wickie’s bedroom. I could see him, as clearly as if I was right there, hair rumpled with sleep, looking absolutely devastated. Lily was standing there, too, holding a picture in one hand. I think it was the photograph of the two of us he keeps on his nightstand. She must have been taking it away.

It hurt. I looked away and went to look at another picture. There was a little boy in it, looking—terrified. Upset. Like he wanted to cry or scream but didn’t know if he was allowed. He was reaching a hand out towards a house, where a young man was looking into an open door. He looked like something inside had caught him off-guard, and—something dark, something inside, was reaching out like it was going to grab him. There were cobwebs in all the corners, but they were part of the picture.

For a moment, I didn’t know why it was there—but then I gasped again. I recognized the boy, or thought I did. It looked like Walt, exactly like Walt had at that age. Then—then I saw the eyes. Walt’s eyes were blue, a bright, bright blue that outshone the ocean. This boy’s were a warm and guileless brown. Like Sarah’s. This was Walt’s boy.

The pictures aren’t static. They aren’t of things that were. I realized that as the days, weeks, went on. They change from time to time. I’ll see Wickie working away on his knitting, or Walt’s boy curled up with a book, or one of them standing outside and looking at the sky. It lets me…keep an eye on them, I suppose. But it aches. It’s the ache of separation and loneliness. I can’t look at them too often.

The only place to see out is from the railing around the light. It looks out over the desert, and from there, I can see everything. Doors appear periodically, more old oak doors with brass knobs supported by no structures. They never last long. Sometimes people stumble through them, and then the doors disappear. The people wander the desert. Their paths cross all the time, or go alongside one another, but they never talk, they never see. Each person in the desert believes themselves to be alone.

I can hear them sometimes. I hear them talking, desperately reaching out. They’re all looking for someone, all missing someone. They run for the doors when they see them, but they don’t always make it, and they don’t always see them. I wondered about those doors, about where they led…at first.

Three months in, I found out.

I was doing a perimeter check of the lighthouse, around midday. A door appeared, just in front of me. I walked closer to it, and it didn’t move. For me, the doors stay. I hesitated, then grasped the knob and opened it. The room beyond was dark, the hands of the clock indicating it to be later in the evening than I knew it to be where I was. Time doesn’t move the same way there, I supposed. Then I realized where I was. I was in Wickie’s bedroom. He was curled up asleep, having a nightmare, poor thing. I wanted to go over and comfort him. I’d actually taken half a step over the threshold when I stopped, when I remembered.

Choices.

I had the choice to go in, to see my boy, to hold him and let him know I loved him and would never stop. But if I did—if I do—then Peter Lukas can get at him. He’s so young, I know the—I know they don’t normally go for children, but…I worry. I can’t risk opening that door.

They keep appearing. More and more frequently. And now…the more attuned I am to the Light, the more I know what I’ll find on the other side. And it’s hard not to go through.

I can redirect them. Sometimes. Or maybe I can just open another one. One every…well. To me it’s one a year. But that’s the thing. As I said, time doesn’t move the same way in the desert that it does everywhere else. It’s been about a year, as far as you’re concerned, since I signed that contract and took the job. For me? It’s been more like ten. But I can a door and let it take me wherever I want. I’ve done it when the temptation is too strong. The last time was Christmas. (sighs) Wickie started in chorus this year. His first concert…I could have gone. Could have stayed in the back of the room, maybe, and just listened, just seen him. But what constitutes contact, what violates the contract? I couldn’t risk it. So I did the next best thing. I opened a door and went to Bournemouth and saw Walt’s boy. Didn’t talk, didn’t tell him who I was. Just stood on the shore next to him for a while. I wanted to…but I didn’t.

I don’t even know if he remembers. I couldn’t hurt him by giving him more memories. That would just make the loneliness worse when I did leave.

GERTRUDE

And you used one of these doors to come here.

KEEPER

That I did.

GERTRUDE

Why?

KEEPER

Thought you’d want to know. Honestly, I half didn’t expect to see you here. I assumed I’d have to wait for you, but your assistant—what was his name? The one that looks like he’s about twelve?

GERTRUDE

Michael.

KEEPER

Michael, aye. He told me you were in. Suppose it gets down to time being weird again.

How was it?

GERTRUDE

How was…what?

KEEPER

The funeral.

…You did go, didn’t you? Come on, Trudy, I know you’re all about keeping your past away from your present, but—

GERTRUDE

Don’t call me that. What are you talking about? What funeral?

KEEPER

Gertrude. What was Tuesday?

GERTRUDE

…My God.

KEEPER

Aye.

Lily wouldn’t be pleased to see me. Or you, for that matter. But Wickie…Lily’s making it all about herself, I’m sure. You know how she can be. I just…I hoped if I gave you my statement, you’d at least look in on him for me.

At least make sure he’s okay.

GERTRUDE

I…I’ll see what I can do.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

GERTRUDE

Final thoughts.

Well. I…I don’t know what to think. This is…useful information to have regarding the Lonely. And I’ll certainly be on the lookout for any old oak doors with brass fittings. But as for the rest…

I checked. Alastair Koskiewicz’s funeral was today, and I believe I have missed it. But I may be able to at least pay my respects. I will have to be discreet if I do. Lily made it very clear she wants nothing to do with me, and I have done my best to respect that. And I know I am…observed more often than I would like. The last thing I want is to draw anyone’s attention to Martin.

I don’t think I should tell him who I am.

And, since the Keeper’s statement mentioned it…I listened to Walter Sims’ statement again, and the dates he gave for both his own death and Alastair’s match exactly. I believe I will make one last attempt at reaching out to the Stoker family, especially now that Daniel will have been born. Perhaps they’ll be more likely to listen now. I don’t know what precautions they can take, but…they should (heh) at least have the choice. At the very least, perhaps they’ll be prepared when the time comes.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

[STUNNED SILENCE, BROKEN ONLY BY THE SOUNDS OF SOMEONE—PROBABLY PAST MARTIN—STRUGGLING NOT TO CRY]

TIM

…Fuck.

PAST ARCHIVIST

I-I didn’t…I had no…oh, God.

PAST MARTIN

(tearfully) W-Walter Sims…was—was that—?

PAST ARCHIVIST

My father.

He—I never knew he—gave a statement. Or that he…

Was that the grandfather you told us about?

PAST MARTIN

Yeah.

[PAST MARTIN MAKES A SOUND—A LAUGH? A SOB? BOTH?]

Guess that explains the cherry thing, huh?

PAST ARCHIVIST

(softly) I guess so.

TIM

So—hah, so you two knew each other?

PAST MARTIN

I-I mean, we were two. That was…that was a long time ago. I didn’t—

PAST ARCHIVIST

No. Neither did I, I—

[FABRIC RUSTLES, A STARTLED “OOMPH” FROM SOMEONE WHO CLEARLY WASN’T EXPECTING AN ATTACK HUG]

PAST MARTIN

Sorry, I’m so sorry, I—

PAST ARCHIVIST

No, Martin, it’s not your fault, it’s—it’s not your fault.

It’s not your fault.

TIM

That statement…your dad’s statement. Do—do you think it’s…in here somewhere?

PAST ARCHIVIST

I don’t—I don’t know.

Basira, she, she said she got as many as she could. There might be some that—I don’t know, Tim.

PAST MARTIN

(uncertainly) W-we could—we could look?

PAST ARCHIVIST

Yes. Yes, if—if you could do that, that would…

I’m sorry. I-I need to—I’ll be right back.

TIM

Jon. Be careful, okay?

PAST ARCHIVIST

I’m just going outside. I’ll be fine.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

[MUFFLED SOUNDS OF THE STREET]

PAST ARCHIVIST

(muttering to himself) …won’t be sensible…I know he worries, they both do. Last thing I need to do is make that worse, but God, after that—

BREEKON

‘Scuse us.

HOPE

Jonathan Sims?

PAST ARCHIVIST

Yeah, wh—? Oh, sh—

[THE PAST ARCHIVIST WHEEZES AND COUGHS AS THE WIND IS KNOCKED OUT OF HIM]

BREEKON

Miss Orsinov wants to see you.

HOPE

Says she changed her mind.

PAST ARCHIVIST

No, please, I—

[VAN DOOR SLIDES OPEN, A LOUD THUNK AS THE PAST ARCHIVIST IS SHOVED INSIDE]

[DOORS CLOSE AND ENGINE STARTS]

PAST ARCHIVIST

Oh, God.

[CLICK]

———

[CLICK]

[HIGH HEELS CLICKING ACROSS A HARDWOOD FLOOR]

ELIAS/JONAH

Ah—Sasha.

[FOOTSTEPS STOP]

SASHA

Yes?

ELIAS/JONAH

Coming back from lunch?

SASHA

…Yes?

ELIAS/JONAH

I’m a bit busy today, so I don’t really have time to get down to the Archives. Please let Tim and Martin know that Jon will be out for a few days.

SASHA

…Sure.

Is…everything all right?

ELIAS/JONAH

Perfectly.

I just have something I need for him to do. It might take some time. I’m sure he’ll explain everything when he gets back, but meanwhile, do make sure your colleagues stay on task, will you? No doubt you have a lot to work on.

SASHA

Yeah, of course. We’ll keep things running smoothly while he’s gone.

ELIAS/JONAH

Thank you, Sasha. I knew I could count on you.

(under his breath) Reliable old Sasha.

SASHA

…Thank you.

[FOOTSTEPS RESUME, CHANGE TO A SLIGHTLY MORE HOLLOW SOUND AS IF SOMEONE IS WALKING DOWN STEPS, SLOW TO A STOP]

[SOUND OF NUMBERS BEING DIALED ON A PHONE]

[THREE TONES]

AUTOMATED INTERCEPT MESSAGE

The number you have reached is not currently in service. Please hang up and try again.

SASHA

Shit.

[CLICK]

#ollie writes fanfic #leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma #the magnus archives #the formatting's better on AO3 #isolation tw #gaslighting tw #loneliness tw #kidnapping tw

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eueden · 4 years ago

Photo

⟨ MAUDE APATOW. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, EDEN KOPPELMAN is actually a descendent of H E S T I A. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-THREE year old VETERINARY from CAPE TOWN, SOUTH AFRICA has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite THOUGHTFUL & QUIXOTIC.

hi, hello, allô, hola, ciao, ella here again with another character. okay so there’s not much to say about me that most of you don’t already know, i have no life and i’m always lurking even if i never do replies (don’t tell the admins) hgsghssghs anyway, this is eden and in a shocking turn of events i actually have a good idea of who she is and look i even made a graphic, if that’s ain’t dedication then i don’t what it is.

basic information.

NAME: eden atara koppelman

PRONUNCIATION: EE - d uh n

NICKNAME: E?? idk

GENDER: cis female

PLACE OF BIRTH: brisbane, queensland, australia

HOMETOWN: cape town, south africa

DATE OF BIRTH: june 26, 1997

AGE: twenty-three

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual so far but secretly curious

MAJOR: veterinary

EXTRACURRICULARS: president of the jewish student association, vice president of the herpetology club, president of the volunteer service, women in leadership member, student government member

SPORTS: captain of the climbing team and co-captain of the track & field team

character inspo.

Jessica Day (New Girl) ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

Elliott Reid (Scrubs) ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

Amy Santiago (Brooklyn 99) ✖ ✖ ✖ ✖

background.

tw: death, infant death, car accident, fire

Eden was born in Brisbane, Australia. She comes from an animal lover family. Her grandparents are very popular down under because they had an animal TV show à la Steve Irwin. Her dad followed their footsteps and it’s a well-known zoologist who also had some TV shows (think of Bear Grylls).

TW: death, infant death, car accident. Matthias Koppelman (her dad) had been previously married but lost his wife and child in a car accident and after that he isolated himself from the public eye and moved to Namibia.

At twenty-eight, he felt the need to climb Mount Everest as one does, ya know? But ofc this man hadn’t climbed in years (he had experience but he’d been too sad to climb mountains. I mean he could barely leave bed, let alone climb Everest). That didn’t stop him and he did.

He almost d worded there bc as I said he was not ready but that’s when Hestia queen of fire showed up and warmed him (in a non sexual way bc she’s pure okay) and he was like oh that was a near dead experience and didn’t think much.

After he conquered the Everest with the help of Hestia, he moved back to Australia and oh surprise a few months later he opened his door and voilá a bebé was there with a note that said “you deserve to have a family, love hestia”

He was shocked like “did i just impregnate a fantasy?” but then Hestia was kind enough to send another and explain everything.

Anyway, Eden lived in Brisbane for four years before her dad took a job in South Africa. They moved to Cape Town (and her grandparents came with them) and pretty much had a happy life surrounded by animals.

TW: fire. When she was nine, her dad took her to a game reserve in Limpopo and by some reason a fire started endangering animals and flora. Everyone was panicking bc I mean wouldn’t u? But Eden was attracted to the flames like a pyro (the good kind tho) and since everyone had better things to do than taking care of a child, they left her unsupervised and she delved into the fire.

Ofc nothing happened to her because ✨immunity✨ but guess who showed up again? Hestia!!!! Being a great goddess and mom, she taught Eden how to use her powers so she could absorb the fire and save all the animals and people.

Everyone was like holy shit a miracle and the firefighters were like “the fuck? we did shit but we gonna take the credit lol”

Eden was like “did that just happen?” and yes, it did but she was like “meh that was imagination” and her dad was like *nervous chuckle* “yeah…” because he didn’t want to tell her the truth since that could put her in danger.

At 13, she had her bat mitzvah and it was all fun and games until fire lady showed up aka Hestia. Her dad and Hestia explained everything and Eden was like:

Hestia claimed her and off to camp she went. For the next few years she went to camps all over the world as a treat.

She never went on a quest bc she was afraid and also because she couldn’t put herself in danger and risk losing her life bc her dad already had lost a child… so yeah

Her dad remarried when she was seventeen and a year later she welcomed a new baby brother and that’s why she decided to take a gap year to be with her bro and also work with her dad in the reserves.

She moved to Athens when she was nineteen and decided to go into veterinary school. So yes Ella will get her dog one way or another idc what the admins say :chaos:

Ahhhh that’s all folks!!! We did it!

FULL BIO (yes, i completed it this time)

personality.

Eden never loses her sense of curiosity. You could say that she sees life through rose colored glasses as if she lived on the edge of a mirror country where worldly objects come to life, where flora and fauna assume almost human qualities.

She has the ability to see the good in almost anyone or anything and tends to sympathize with even the most unfriendly person. She often hides the extreme depth of feelings from her, even from herself, until circumstances elicit a passionate response.

She has a deep sense of idealism that comes from a strong personal sense of right and wrong. She sees the world as a place full of possibilities and potentials and is governed by her intuition. She is quite reserved and is not easily manipulated.

She is a good listener and considerate, they try to care for and understand others in a deep way. She can be very calm and intuitive with the people around her, being able to search for hidden meanings in the actions and words of others.

Of course, all of life is not rosy and Eden is not exempt from suffering the same disappointments and frustrations that are common to others. She tends to be a perfectionist and often strives for personal ideals that can be exhausting or very difficult to obtain.

She also struggles with time management, always leaving everything to the last minute claiming she “works better under pressure” but the truth is she’s just a procrastinator.

Very sensible, she cries almost every day either because of a commercial or a sweet story she read on Facebook. It doesn’t matter, if it’s slightly emotional she will shed some tears.

powers.

pyrokinesis: This power first manifested when she was nine years old and she helped to save an animal reserve from the flames with the help of Hestia. Since she was claimed when she was thirteen, she’s learned how to use this power. Now she can summon fire without any problem and put it out just as fast. This is very helpful because she loves baking but she’s a bit clumsy so she often burns herself, but thankfully, she’s immune, so no pain. However, Eden has never been able to create a hot wall of flames nor she has ever asked how to do that, she just hopes she never has to use it.

serenity inducement: Eden avoids conflict at all cost, not only it makes her cry but also makes her very uncomfortable and anxious which is why this was the first power she manifested. She was just a child but from what she remembers it was during a class in preschool that a kid started hitting another one. Eden panicked at such an act of violence she went there and touched the bully’s shoulder which immediately calmed him. Back then she didn’t know it was a power but after finding out about her true identity, many other events like this started to make sense. This is the power she uses the most, also with animals which is why she makes such a good veterinarian because she can calm an animal's nerves.

bond manipulation: She wouldn’t say this is one of her weakest powers but it’s one she didn’t use often growing up because she came from such a stable family that it didn’t seem necessary, however, she sometimes catches herself using it in group projects or at her workplace, you know, to keep things healthy and positive.

ability to summon food: By far the one she uses the least (personally speaking), she likes cooking and baking, so she doesn’t see the point but she does use it to feed stray animals.

headcanons.

Eden speaks fluent English, she has a mixed South African and Australian accent but she can switch. At school, half of her classes were in Afrikaans, so she also speaks it fluently. Greek comes from her demigod side, but she also took some classes back in school upon her father’s request. Growing up in a very Jewish family, her grandparents believed it was pretty important that Eden learned Yiddish and Hebrew, she can read it perfectly but struggles speaking it, especially Yiddish because she also attended Hebrew school. As for French, she learned in high school and she still takes lessons at Eonia but she hates it.

Her father started taking her to a climbing gym when she was five and by the time she was ten she was already climbing 6a routes which is pretty much an intermediate level and very impressive for her age.

She had her own TV show on Discover Kids titled “Eden’s Wildlife Adventure” in which she explained the importance of different types of animals. The first seasons were shot between Australia and South Africa, but in later seasons she traveled across Africa and South America. The show ran from 2005-2011 (which was when she was claimed).

Dreams of climbing Mount Everest before her 30th birthday.

Her father is a classic rock band and so is she. Her animals have been named after influential musicians. Right now she has a cat named Hendrix, a horse named Cobain, a dog named Mick. Growing up her father took care of a baby lion which they named Little Richard because he was smaller than most lion cubs. Over the years, his father and grandparents have fostered several wild animals while they recover or before they are sent to a reserve. Among the animals they have fostered are elephants, giraffes, zebras, cheetahs, leopards, hippos and more.

While she loves rock, she’s also a sucker for 2000s pop. Please don’t ask her about modern artists because she’s clueless.

She’s fed up with the Mean Girl jokes, we get it she grew up in Africa and she’s white.

She is a proud Jewish girl and follows many traditions. She does attend the local synagogue during Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah. And of course, Hanukkah is her favorite holiday. Her family practices Reform Judaism, so she doesn’t follow a kosher diet.

Eden was raised as a vegan and her whole family is vegan. In the past years, she has been in the process of becoming vegetarian.

Favorites: Anything written by Agatha Christie(book); Say Anything (1989) (movie); Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fear (song);

Again, no one asked me but I will reply: “Ella, does Eden hate Iker?” “Well, thanks for asking. In a shocking turn of events, no she doesn’t. How come you might ask? Well, she doesn’t hate anyone but if she ever did then yes, she would hate him.”

pinterest | wanted connections

#euintro

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