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itsseohannbin · 2 months ago

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• The Blackened Heart • Part One

A Han Jisung Mini Series

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⚓️ Series Masterlist ⚓️

Genre: Pirate SKZ

Pairing: PirateThief!Jisung x Female Captain Reader x Ex-Bandit Lino

Summary: When Y/N, Captain of the Blackened Heart, gets offered a large sum of money to deliver a thief to the Jarl of Serpent Point, she and her crew greedily accept. But while spending time with the familiar thief during their long journey back home, she realizes just how important human connection can be, even for a pirate.

Warnings: Pirate SKZ. Swearing. Mentions of weapons. Violence. Mentions of brothels. Small mention of death.

** The author has left out some warnings to create an element of surprise with certain topics in/throughout this chapter. Reader discretion is advised. **

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: I am aware that a lot of concepts and ideas throughout this fic will not be historically and biblically accurate. I've done my fair share of research about pirates of all kinds, from all different eras and countries, and I know pirates never lived lavishly; they didn't have proper tools for healthy hygiene, they never had 'fancy' meals, they never had access to first aid/doctors to help tend to their wounds after battle or when illness struck, their beds were often nothing but a wooden board and some thin cloth. I know not all dubloons rounded off to $16, and gems were rare to find. I know that in some eras, guns and bows didn't even exist, making combat difficult and more intense with only swords and daggers alike. I know chewing tobacco and pipes were commonly used, and STDs were common amongst the members of the crews.

Let me reinstate that.. **I AM AWARE OF ALL OF THIS AND SO MUCH MORE**

However, for the sake of this fic and where I wanted it to go, I changed a lot of those things. I pulled a lot of inspiration for this fic not only from Lalalala MV and the Rockstar comeback, but from video games that I’ve played that had pirates and jarls and thieves alike in them as well (mostly ESO, Skyrim, Assassins Creed, ect.).

So, as I've said, I am aware not everything in this is accurate, a lot of the lore and concepts are farfetched and not entirely realistic, but at the end of the day, there is NOTHING realistic about Pirate SKZ 😋

Happy Reading Everyone! Your thoughts and feedback is always appreciated. Enjoy! ♡

Serpent Point was, by far, the most repulsive city you've ever set foot in, and you were ashamed that you had once called the place home.

The small city sprawled out like an ugly scar across the dirty coastline, barely protected by the dead and decaying trees of the forest surrounding it. With rusted hulls, scavenged scraps, and towering heaps of trash, it felt as though it was built by the vermin that scurried across the streets and flooded the docks. Salt and sweat hung heavy in the air, mixed with the sharp sting of tobacco smoke and the lingering fumes of the nearby fish-processing plant, making anybody who stepped foot on Serpent Point soil gag from its intensity.

As you walked towards the shore, your old, muddy boots click-clacked against the broken wooden dock, your quartermaster and personal guard flanking your sides.

"I'll never understand how we always end up back here," Chan spoke with venom in his tone as he eyed the rickety old fort in the distance that was once his childhood home. Even from the shoreline, you could make out the large cracks stretching out across the stone structure, moss and mildew creeping from every fissure like an untreatable disease.

"I don't understand how the two of you even survived here," Lino commented shortly after, a shake of his head causing his chocolate-brown hair to sway back and forth. With a look of utter disgust, he side-stepped an old man who was sprawled on the dirt, hands reaching for Lino’s trousers with desperate, drunken eyes. It wasn't until the old man began shouting incessantly that the smell of alcohol wafted from his mouth straight to your nostrils, and you pinched your nose closed in revolt.

"Believe me, it wasn't by choice," you murmured, pushing forward and ignoring the babbling drunk. "If it had been, I'd be born anywhere but here."

"Amen," Chan agreed under his breath.

The walk to Fort Foucher, the Jarl's residence, was quick—partially because the city was small, but mostly because the three of you had little patience for the staggering drunks and pitiful beggars who clogged the streets.

Once you reached the entrance to the Fort, the Jarl's guards welcomed you in with disgruntled noises and curses beneath their breaths. The Jarl may have been expecting you, requesting you specifically by name, but that didn't mean his men held any sort of respect towards females in power. They spat nasty remarks and looks of disapproval your way despite the two menacing men at your side, and their frowns deepened impossibly more when you walked past the group of them with a certain confidence in your stride. It took everything in you not to release your dagger from its scabbard and huck it their way.

You were here on special request from the Jarl himself, and if you didn't need the coin he hinted at in his letter, you would have yet to show up to this low-class city to begin with. Killing his men before meeting with the man himself was not the brightest idea, no matter how tempting it may be.

Thankfully, a short, stubby man in a dirty blue coat and off-white stockings signaled from the back of the main foyer, pulling you from your murderous thoughts. He was waiting patiently to guide you to the throne room himself as if you hadn't been inside the Fort countless times before.

After catching your attention, the pudgy male turned and began walking away. He didn't even bother to make sure you were following as he led you down the old, dilapidated hallway to the set of double wooden doors at the end, where the Jarl would be waiting for your arrival just beyond.

The man stopped short just before the entrance to the room, bowed lazily to you and your men, and then opened the doors, granting you access inside. You took a deep breath as the golden light spilt from the room, making the hallway's darkness seem all the more oppressive behind you.

"After you, Cap," Lino spoke in a hushed tone, one hand waving you into the room while the other sat dangerously on the sharp dagger at his hip. His brown eyes flickered around the room, silently scouting for danger before you took another deep, calming puff of air and stepped inwards.

You bowed formally to the man in blue before entering the throne room, nerves bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

The first thing you noticed when you entered was the stench of old tobacco, worse than outside. That, mixed with the scent of wilting flowers and old wax, had you resisting the urge to scrunch your face up in disgust at the odor. It was an odd, unsettling combination, causing bile to rise up your throat that you had to push back down forcefully.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't my favorite buccaneer," Jarl Foucher’s voice scraped against your ears in the most unpleasant way. He struggled off of his raggedy old chair and opened his arms wide in welcome with a toothy grin on his face. His long, dirty grey hair was pulled back from his temples, allowing you a full view of his gross, scraggly beard. His teeth were yellow and chipped, his breath reeking of smoke and moonshine even from across the room, and his eyes were wrinkled and faded from their natural green into something almost stale and completely lifeless.

He looked exactly how you remembered him to be.

"Jarl Foucher," you smiled back, the action forced and not at all reaching your eyes. You lowered yourself respectfully to the floor before him, Chan following suit. Meanwhile, Lino remained still at your side, his eyes flittering over the guards cautiously. The raised pink scar that slashed over his left eye and down his cheekbone twitched in anticipation as his body tensed, his face hard as stone.

"Greetings Cristoff," Foucher barely spared his estranged son a glance before his attention was on Lino, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. You turned slightly to glare up at Lino, silently yelling at him to get on the ground and bow to the Jarl, but instead, Lino just stood unwavering, looking calm, cool and completely collected.

“And who may this gentleman be?” Foucher asked, his eyes lingering on the man, sharp and calculating. “I haven’t seen him amongst your crew before.”

“This is my guard, Lino Lee.” You spoke carefully, hoping to break some of the tension that was rolling off of Lino’s shoulders in waves as Foucher analyzed him. He seemed unbothered, but you know it was only an act he performed in the presence of authority figures. He hated Royals with a burning passion.

“The boys and I pulled him from the sea a while back after his boat up and sank, and he’s been indebted to us ever since. Rest assured, he poses you no harm.”

Foucher scrutinized Lino with curiosity, but his gaze eventually returned to you.

“A rogue bandit put in charge of keeping you safe? Surely you’re not that foolish, Captain.” The Jarl’s eyes gleamed with amusement as if he could tell what dirty things were going on between you and Lino behind closed doors. It was hard to resist Lino’s rogue image and impeccable charm, you had to admit that, and you hoped to god it wasn’t as obvious to the Jarl as it was to the rest of your crew.

Yes, you and Lino indulged in each other regularly while out at sea, you were only human after all, but everything that happened between the two of you was purely physical. There were no lingering feelings, second guesses or confusion as to what you two were to each other. You two had been clear and concise from the moment you first took that step only a few months prior, and you were determined to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Not that the Jarl needed to know any of that, but based on the look he was giving the two of you now, you knew he suspected romance was in play. You felt a sudden urge of determination to shut his suspicions down, but you didn’t want to draw any more attention to it than deemed necessary.

“I can assure you, Your Majesty, Lino is no longer a bandit, and as I’ve said, he is indebted to me.” You tried to assure him. “He has pledged himself in my honor and strayed from the path he once walked. I apologize for his defiance, he is still getting accustomed to life on Royal territory.”

With a nod of his head, Foucher turned his body around to address his guards in a silent conversation, no doubt telling them to keep an eye on the young lad, and in that time, you reached over and punched Lino on his leather-clad arm.

“Ow! Why?” he hissed under his breath.

Ah yes, Lino Lee, the man of many words.

“Show some respect,” you growled in a low tone. “You’re in the presence of the leader of Serpent Point.”

Lino rolled his eyes, his fingers coming down to fiddle with the sheath that one of his two daggers rested in; the matching one sat on his opposite hip.

“After everything he’s done to Chan? To you? Not a chance.” Lino glowered back quietly. You raised your eyebrow and gave him a look of warning at his usual act of defiance. The two of you then stared off for a second, silently challenging one another, before Lino’s eyes fell from yours and he gave in like he always did when it came to you. He may have quickly established himself the title of the crew’s most lethal and loyal protector, but you were the one who had control of the leash.

“Fine,” he grumbled under his breath. “I’ll be as respectful as I need to be, but I’m not getting on this filthy floor to bow down to him.”

You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes at him again. As if he hadn’t lain on floors worse than this in his days of being a delinquent.

A smart-ass remark sat on the tip of your tongue, but before you could release it, Foucher turned back around and clapped his hands, capturing everyone's attention once again.

“Everything alright, Captain?” he asked with a smirk, staring at you as if to say ‘trouble in paradise already?’. You straightened your back and gave him an assured nod of your head.

“Everything is fine, Your Majesty. I do, however, have a lot of work to be done on my ship before our scheduled departure come morning. As much as I hate to cut our visit short, may I ask why you’ve called upon us today?”

The words rolled off your tongue with a bitter aftertaste, but Foucher barely registered the annoyance in your tone, his smile warm as he retreated to his seat.

“Of course,”

You, Chan and Lino, waited patiently in silence while Foucher settled back into the worn-out fabric. A couple of long seconds passed by before he spoke again, his fingers tapping against one another in boredom.

“Queen Aliyah of Cliffpoint Hollow has sent word that she has a criminal sitting in her jailhouse. The criminal in question is a thief who has been robbing me and my men for nearly a decade. He had escaped our jail unnoticed merely three years ago and he’s been evading us ever since.”

You gave Foucher an expressionless look while you waited for him to continue, wondering what any of this had to do with you and your crew. Meanwhile, Chan’s eyes practically bulged out of his face, his mouth open in surprise.

“Wait, the Queen Aliyah? As in-”

“The leader of the land, ruler of Fatewatch? Yes, indeed, the very one.” Foucher confirmed, cutting Chan off without a glance his way. His eyes stayed focused on you as he continued with his proposal.

“I have a chest in my treasury containing more than fifty thousand gold doubloons, alongside a large amount of stolen gems and jewelry. I cannot be bothered to take it all to a moving man, so the lot of it can be yours if you travel to Cliffpoint and bring that thief back to me.”

Your jaw dropped disrespectfully in utter shock, and you felt both boys tense up beside you at the offer. Fifty thousand gold was an unfathomable amount of money. If each of those coins was valued at sixteen dollars a piece like they usually were, you were looking at at least eight hundred thousand dollars in gold, not including the stolen goods.

You’d be stupid to turn that down.

However, if there was anything you learned from your time spent at sea, it was that everything came with a price.

Absolutely everything.

“Sir, I-”

Foucher cut you off abruptly with a raise of his hand.

“I would prefer him alive, but he is known to be quite cocky at times, so if it comes down to it, his dead body will do. Of course, it’ll dock your pay, but I’m sure you’d still have enough to cover the costs to get your beloved ship back in order.”

Foucher waited while you, Lino and Chan exchanged mixed looks of confusion, apprehension and disbelief. The room was silent for a few minutes as the three of you attempted to process the information.

That was until Lino opened his mouth.

“And what exactly is it that this thief stole from you?” Lino spoke suddenly, cocking his head to the side like a cat as he eyed Foucher as if he were merely a peasant and not the goddamn overseer of the entire northern point of Fatewatch. “How bad of a crime did he commit to justify us travelling across the globe to fetch him for you? Why not let the Queen kill him instead?”

“Lino!” you hissed between clenched teeth, seemingly having enough of his attitude. “Will you cu-”

“It’s alright Captain,” Foucher raised his hand to cut you off once more, a sly smile on his face. “The bandit has the right to ask, I suppose.”

Your fingers twitched as Foucher raised from his seat and walked towards the three of you again, his hands folded neatly behind his back. A sense of unease washed over you as you took in his calm and relaxed facade.

“You see when I was a young boy, my mother fell incredibly ill and passed away tragically. When she died, she left behind her ring, one that had been passed down through generations and generations of ancestors before me, and this criminal stole it from right under my nose. He now wears this ring on his pointer finger like some trophy he’s won for robbing me blind. I simply want it back.”

Lino scoffed as he crossed his muscular arms over his broad chest, raising an eyebrow in defiance. “You want us to travel halfway across the globe to fetch you a flimsy ring?”

Before anyone could say another word, Foucher’s hand retreated from behind his back, and in one swift motion, he backhanded Lino across the face. Foucher’s eyes burned hot as he smacked the younger man, and if it weren’t for Foucher then raising his hands to halt the guards behind him who were bustling for a fight, you would’ve run to Lino’s side.

However, shock rendered you stuck in place.

Lino stood in shock as well at the Jarl’s actions. A strand of hair fell into his face, but he didn’t bother trying to fix it. He simply stood there, eyes angry as he whipped his head back to glare at the Jarl, whose eyes widened in what you could only assume was a sliver of fear at the dangerous look now planted on Lino’s face.

For a second, you worried for the Jarl’s life, but Lino didn’t move, for which you were thankful. He may have hated Royals with every fiber of his being, but he knew when to fight back and when not to. You silently thanked the gods that he didn’t retaliate.

“Watch your tongue, boy.” Foucher snapped, seemingly masking his terror behind his title of authority. Droplets of spit spewed from his mouth and into Lino’s face. “That ring is a family heirloom. Sixteenth-century gold, embedded with only the finest diamonds and rubies alike. You should be thankful a lowlife pillager like yourself will even be able to set his sights on something so magnificent.”

Without a second thought, Foucher stepped away from a now-fuming Lino and approached you with a wide, almost sadistic smile. The anger in his eyes had vanished so quickly it nearly gave you whiplash, and you had to slightly raise your fingers to stop Lino from rushing to your defense.

“So, Captain. Whaddya say?”

You opened your mouth to give him your answer, to tell him just exactly where he could shove his chest of treasure and stolen goods when Chan spoke up first, cutting you off. His tone was harsh and venomous, clearly pissed at Foucher’s assault on his crewmate.

“But Father,” he paused and corrected himself quickly with a smirk. “Sorry, Foucher. Why are you asking this of us? You have an entire army of men at your beck and call, as well as one of the best navigators in the country no doubt naked in your bed as we speak. Why do you need us to do this for you?”

Although it was meant as a dig at the Jarl and his piggish personality, Foucher laughed humorlessly at Chan’s words. The sound was like metal scraping metal, and it made all the hair on the back of your neck stick up.

“Well because, dear Cristoff,” Foucher spoke his name with a sneer. “Captain Y/N and the crew of the Blackened Heart have unfortunately become infamous across the country. Stories of your victories have been passed through taverns and inns alike for years. It’s the only reason I haven’t called on you to return to my side. If there’s anyone who could travel to Cliffpoint Hollow and bring this criminal back to me, it’s you guys.”

Your face reddened immensely at the Jarl's sudden praise.

“Cliffpoint is merely a few months or so away, and quite frankly, none of my men are trained and confident enough to make the trek themselves. As I said, do this and the three of you, alongside the other five, will be rewarded greatly for your service. We’ll provide you with enough supplies for you and your goons to make the journey there, as long as you bring that scum of a human being back to me so I can put an end to his pathetic life once and for all.”

It felt like a dream. Sure, Cliffpoint Hollow was a long journey from home, halfway across the globe as Lino had pointed out before, but if all you had to do to earn fifty thousand gold was deliver a thief to the Jarl’s doorstep, you’d be stupid not to say yes.

You looked at Lino, whose cheek was still burning red, silently asking for his opinion. He ignored the stinging in his face and shrugged at you nonchalantly, but the twinkle in his eyes showed he was anxious for the adventure.

Or maybe he was just anxious to get the hell away from Serpent Point once and for all before his annoyance took over and he beheaded the Jarl before anyone could blink an eye.

Chan gave you a nod of encouragement as well, clearly desperate to experience the world the way he said he wanted to when he walked out on his father and showed up at your ship all those years ago. This was a free ticket across the globe, something he never would’ve been granted if he still lived under Foucher’s watch. There was no way he was turning this down.

You cocked your head back to look at Foucher, rubbing your hands nervously against the black trousers you wore. You cleared your throat once, bringing yourself to ask the one question you were dying to know since the mission was brought upon you.

“What’s the thief's name?” you inquired with a raised brow. If Foucher was asking this of you, whoever it was had to be important. And transporting important prisoners usually came with enemies who would do anything to make sure the jailbird wouldn't make it back alive. If you were going to potentially put your men in danger, you needed details.

Foucher must’ve mistook your question as a ‘yes’, because he clapped his hands and opened his arms wide, a joyous victory on his lips. He smiled brightly at you and he came forward, wrapping his large, wrinkly hands around your face and holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

The feeling made your gut twist uncomfortably.

“Maybe you’ve heard of him. He’s Scout’s youngest boy. You know Scout, yes?”

Your teeth clenched tightly the second the name left his mouth. A burning coil of anger sparked in your stomach as you recognized the name of the leader of the Thieves Den. The one who took everything from you, including your family. The one who committed the bloodiest heist on Serpent Point soil and still somehow got away. The memory of it punched you in the chest, while the memory of his son nearly brought you to your knees completely.

This was why Foucher wanted you and your crew to do this. This was why he called upon you and your men to take on such a task, making such an unfathomable offer for the job.

Anybody in the world could do it. City patrons and pirates alike have been doing so for years with little to no payout as a reward.

This wasn’t just a delivery mission.

It was a test of loyalty.

One he was expecting you to fail if the sparkle in his eyes was anything to go by.

Fifty thousand gold hung in the balance, and you were determined to get it. Not only for you but for the seven men who happily followed you and worked for you as if you were their Queen.

Your hands clenched into fists, your nails digging into your palms hard enough to draw blood, but the Jarl continued to speak, completely unaware of the turmoil happening in your chest.

“He was the one who ambushed me and my men in Fogrush Bay. I believe he goes by -”

“Jisung fucking Han II.” you seethed.

“I’m just saying, if Queen Aliyah is the leader of all of Fatewatch, why does she live on a whole other continent instead of here?” Lino grumbled, trailing after you and Chan as the three of you made your way back to the docks. His confusion drew hearty laughs from you and Chan, echoing in the quiet dawn that settled over the town.

“Who knows, Li,” you shrugged, stepping aside to let a small carriage clatter past before falling back in line. “Maybe the rum is just better in Cliffpoint.”

Lino scowled, unimpressed. “Doesn’t make a damn bit of sense to me.”

You chuckled, enjoying how such a trivial mystery could get under his skin so easily. It was a welcome distraction from the anxiety that still swirled in your gut after that tense meeting with Foucher. Lino probably sensed it too; he had a knack for reading your mood without a word, one of the reasons why he was such a reliable guard—and an even better lover if you might add.

“Nothing ever makes sense to you, Lino. You’re about as dense as Paisley’s baking.” Chan’s grin was wide as he gave Lino a playful shove, making him stumble.

“Oh, shut it, Chan,” Lino muttered back, though a reluctant smile crept onto his face as he regained his footing.

“Just another one of life's greatest mysteries,” you teased.

Lino rolled his eyes, nose wrinkling in irritation. “Like the time you got all riled up about why cats stick their tongues out when they’re happy.” you then added with a grin.

Lino’s dark eyes slid to you, narrowing in a faux glare. “Yeah, well, at least felines are cute.” You snickered and patted him on the back in mock reassurance.

“Hey. I hear Queen Aliyah’s pretty cute too.” You winked, but Lino’s gaze darkened to a scowl, and for a moment, you caught the dangerous edge in his expression, sending goosebumps down your arms.

“As if I give a damn,” Lino sneered. “You know how much I despise royals.”

Chan clicked his tongue disapprovingly, bringing your attention back to him. “Listen, Lino,” he smirked, pink creeping up his cheeks. “You don’t have to fancy royals for them to be a good lay.”

His words made you scoff and cross your arms before granting him a bored look. “Oh, please Channie—you’re practically a virgin.”

Chan’s eyes widened, mouth gaping, too stunned to speak as he tripped over his own feet. Righting himself, he looked at you in betrayed disbelief.

“I am not!” he finally managed, clutching his chest dramatically. You ignored the strange looks the three of you were now receiving from passers-by and gave him a sly but interested smile in return.

“Oh, is that so? You’ve spent the last eight years at sea with me. When exactly would you have had a chance to ‘entertain’ a royal?”

The colour in Chan’s cheeks deepened, and suddenly, he looked like a man with a story to tell. He shrugged, straightening with a newfound confidence before Lino draped an arm over his shoulders in intrigue.

“Let’s just say, Jarl Alderidge’s daughter wasn’t the only woman I… indulged in back when I was set to court her,” he admitted. You and Lino both raised your eyebrows at him in question, trying to piece together his meaning.

Chan had left his father's side when he was barely eighteen years old. He was set to court and marry a royal from a few cities over, but he left shortly after the courting began. You blinked a couple of times, thinking back to the awful family he was supposed to be wed into, and realisation finally dawned on you as the pieces fell into place. Your stomach turned in mock disgust as you reached out and gave him a light punch on the arm.

“Oh, for the love of—Jarl Alderidge’s wife?”

Chan blocked your half-hearted blow, laughing. “What? Lady Tatiana is a beautiful woman, and the opportunity presented itself. Who was I to deny her?”

You aimed another punch his way, but Lino quickly tugged you back with a laugh, one hand wrapped around your waist while the other clapped Chan on the shoulder. “Good grief, Channie, you should have been born in a brothel.”

The two of them snorted, and you rolled your eyes, suppressing the urge to smack the pride off their faces.

“Does Paisley know about this?” you asked, shaking off Lino’s arm and falling back into step beside them.

“Of course, she knows.” Chan’s expression softened at the mention of his soon-to-be wife. “I’d never keep anything from her. Paisley and I—there’s nothing we wouldn’t tell each other.”

You and Lino exchanged a look, simultaneously groaning in exaggerated disgust.

“Ew.”

“Gross.”

Chan shook his head and gave the two of you a pointed stare.

“What’s the matter with you two?” he asked, clearly offended by your reactions.

“Human connection is what’s the matter,” you answered with a shrug.

“It’s absolutely sickening,” Lino added with a cringe.

Chan's face fell. “What? What’s so gross and sickening about having an open and honest relationship with the one I love most? What is it about having someone to come home to after weeks at sea that makes the two of you so disgusted?”

You gagged theatrically.

“Literally every part of what you just said.”

Chan then rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated.

“You two are closer than anyone else I know. Isn’t that deeper than what Paisley and I have? Seungmo and Millie? Jinn and Ophelia?”

You let out a long sigh as the three of you finally stepped back onto the old, decaying dock. The boards of wood groaned beneath your feet, some barely holding together. “Oh please, Channie. There is absolutely nothing romantic between Lino and me. We’re just… mutually beneficial.”

“Right,” Lino agreed as you squeezed past the rows of empty carts crowding the walkway. “I’d rather jab a dagger into my own eye than settle down.”

Chan shot the bandit a look of pure disbelief.

“And I’m the one who belongs in a brothel?”

Both you and Lino shared a final laugh as you approached your ship, anchored at the end of the dock like a beast at rest. Leading the way, you crossed the narrow plank that bridged the dock to your vessel, landing with a solid thud.

Jinn, your sharp-eyed sailing master, was leaning against the railing, chewing idly on tobacco, while Binni, your burly artilleryman, sat next to him on a creaky old stool, the two of them mid-conversation. Their words stopped short the instant you touched down.

“Welcome back, Cap.” Jinn greeted, flicking his head to the side as he spat overboard without care. “How did things go with the Jarl?”

You let out a heavy exhale, mind already on the meeting you’d be calling shortly with the rest of your crew. They wouldn’t be happy that you decided on this new job alone; normally, the entire crew weighs in before a vote is held. But today, your gut had already made the call.

“Went fine. Important business,” you replied with a curt nod of your head, watching as Jinn’s expression tightened slightly in response. You then turned to Chan, the light-hearted mood from earlier gone. As soon as your feet hit the surface of your ship, it was business as usual. “Get everyone together below deck. Crew meeting in ten.”

Chan nodded, the humour in his eyes vanishing as he took off to round up the others. You barely spared him a second glance as you turned back to Jinn, whose lounging posture now told you he had no intention of springing into action like his crewmate.

“Are the twins back yet?” you asked.

“Not last I saw,” Jinn replied. “They went down to the market.” He raised a brow and shrugged, clearly unconcerned.

You let out a quiet sigh and glanced at Binni, who only gave you a knowing smile in return.

“Go get them, Jinn. We’re in a hurry.”

You watched with little patience as Jinn rolled his eyes with all the petulance of a bored child. “Why me? Binni’s been sitting here gnawing on jerky all day. Let him get off his ass for once.” he complained in his typical tone of defiance.

Binni raised his eyebrows, slowly standing as he glowered at the younger male. Although he was a head shorter than Jinn, his solid build made him all the more imposing. He loomed over Jinn with a look that would send most men scurrying away in fear, but Jinn, ever used to the infamous glower, held his ground unfazed.

Before either of them could escalate, you stepped in between them, pushing each back a step.

“Enough,” you snapped before turning your glare back to your navigator. “Jinn, unless you’ve suddenly developed a talent for taking stock and loading the armoury, I suggest you stop whining and get moving.”

Jinn's face turned red, and with a small bow of compliance, he brushed past you, grumbling as he left the ship.

“Move it!” you called after him. “We don’t have all day!”

“I know, Cap!” he yelled back, though he picked up the pace as he disappeared down the dock. You watched him go in the dying light of day, shaking your head. “One more comment like that, Jinn, and you’ll be scrubbing bird shit off this deck for a month!”

Jinn spun to bow quickly once more before breaking into a jog, knowing full well you meant it. With a sigh, you turned back to Binni, but he was already stowing the stool and heading off below deck, tossing a salute over his shoulder.

“Inventory check. I’ll meet you down there when I’m done.”

You gave Binni a thankful smile as he ran off, leaving you to stand in the light of the sunset alone. There was a light breeze coming off the ocean across from you, and you allowed yourself a brief moment of peace, watching the sky morph from blues and whites to purples and pinks and oranges.

The smell of saltine water, the cool breeze of the summer air, the soft sway of the ship, the caw of gulls wheeling overhead. It was moments like these, moments of complete serenity, that you enjoyed the most, that made you feel completely grounded. It made you feel sentimental, reminiscing back to when you began your life as the first female pirate in all of Fatewatch. It reminded you why you began adventuring in the first place.

You stood for what felt like hours, watching the sky morph and change with each passing second. You admired the way the sun lowered itself on the horizon, bright and satisfied at the day's end, and how the clouds and warmth seemed to chase it. And although you always found the rise and fall of the large orange star in the sky beautiful, you couldn’t deny that you were aching for nightfall.

“You’ve been staring at that horizon for a long time now, Y/N.”

A slow smile spread across your face at the sound of the wooden artificial leg being dragged against the surface of the ship. A wooden door closing against its hinges a second later had you popping your eyes away from the sky to come face-to-face with the blue-haired boy from across the way.

“The Captain won’t like you skipping important meetings.” Yongbok teased with a smile. You sent him a bright grin as your arms folded across your chest.

“Hello Yongbokki.” you greeted, bumping your shoulder with his when he stopped beside you. He took a moment to gracefully lean his body against the railing behind him, a small wince flashing quickly across his freckled face. He was still getting used to living with his new leg, and you reached a hand out instinctively help support him.

“You guys made it back just in time,” he spoke as if he wasn’t in any pain at all, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was no longer looking at you, but out across the ocean at the same horizon you were moments before, you would’ve scowled at him for trying to play it off.

“I think I finally perfected those salmon steaks I’ve been struggling with for the last month.” His eyes sparkled with pride and excitement at his small victory, meanwhile, your stomach growled loudly at the mention of food. You clapped him on the back with a pleased laugh.

“Perfect timing, Yongbokki. We’ll have to set the table for everyone before the meeting starts. I have a feeling the boys will take my news better on full stomachs.”

Yongboks grin turned suspicious, one brow arched as you pushed yourself off the railing you were also leaning against and held a hand out to help him stand.

“What did you do this time, Cap?” he teased. “Sold Binni to another cathouse I presume?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing once more as you took hold of his hand and headed towards the creaky old door that led below deck. “Will you let that go? That was one time!”

Yongbok’s laughter echoed as you entered the ship, veering down to the kitchen at the end of the corridor. “One time too many, Cap. If it happens again, I’m afraid Bin will be gone for good.”

Jinn returned moments after everyone else had settled at the dining table, Jeo and Seungmo trailing behind. The three of them exchanged quiet jokes as they hastily took their seats, their faces lighting up at the sight of the meal before them.

Fish steaks, steaming and fragrant, rested on thick wooden plates that Binni had crafted weeks prior. Cutlery was arranged meticulously beside them and metal tankards were filled to the brim with ale, allowing the table to be a testament to the care Yongbokki had poured into the preparation.

You leaned back slightly, observing your crew as they dug into the meal. Despite the unease swirling in your gut, you waited, letting them savour the peace of a shared dinner table before revealing the storm on the horizon.

You watched as Jinn, ever the orderly one, gestured for Seungmo to take the breadbasket from his hands, the corners of his mouth twitching up as he said, “You’ll thank me later for making sure you’re not just eating meat, Mo.”

Seungmo rolled his eyes, tearing into a piece of bread but muttering something about ‘overbearing mother hens.’ Jeo chuckled, his fox-like eyes catching yours briefly before he focused on his plate.

You felt the weight of the news pressing against your chest as you watched them—your crew, your family. The money Foucher offered was good, almost impossibly good, but there was that nagging whisper in the back of your mind, the one that suggested it might not be enough to sway them. Especially not Jinn and Seungmo.

When most of the plates were cleared, Jeo broke the casual hum of conversation. He wiped his mouth with a serviette and leaned forward slightly, his sharp, curious eyes locking onto yours.

“So, Cap,” he began, his tone light but pointed. “What’s this meeting for?”

Binni shifted, leaning back in his chair and tossing you a quizzical look, meanwhile, Seungmo perked up, his brows drawing together.

“Oh yeah! The meeting with Foucher. How’d it go?” his voice held a genuine curiosity, though you could see he was already trying to piece together why it needed to involve all of them.

Setting your fork down, you glanced at Lino and Chan, both of whom offered small, encouraging nods. That gave you just enough courage to speak.

“The meeting with Foucher went...well.” you began carefully, letting your words hang as you measured everyone's reactions. “He’s got another job for us.”

That caught their attention. Forks paused mid-air, and a hush settled over the surrounding tables where the two and a half dozen sailors under your command sat, waiting for you to finish. Jinn tilted his head slightly, studying you with a guarded expression as he began gathering a small stack of empty plates.

“What kind of job this time?” he asked, voice calm but curious.

You hesitated for a brief moment. “He wants us to travel to Cliffpoint Hollow,” you said finally, your voice firmer now. “We’re to escort a prisoner back to him.”

The impact of your words was immediate. Jeo, mid-drink, choked and nearly sent his ale spewing across the table, causing Lino to reach over and clap his back while he spluttered about.

“Cliffpoint Hollow?” Binni straightened abruptly, his easygoing demeanour gone. His wide eyes pinned you in place at your end of the table. “Did you just say Cliffpoint Hollow?”

“I did,” you confirmed with a single nod. Silence fell over the room again for a moment before Jeo spoke up once more.

“Captain, with all due respect,” he started in a gruff tone from his choking, his fingers now toying with the handle of the metal tankard in front of him. “We’re supposed to be on break right now. Seungmo’s dying to get home to see Millie, and Jinn still has yet to even meet his kid. I don’t think any of us could take on another adventure.”

Seungmo cast a glance towards you. Though he kept his expression neutral, the flicker of disappointment on his face was unmistakable. He was usually calm and composed, but even he had his limits.

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temple before clasping your hands together on the table before you. You watched as Chan began wiping the dirty surface with an old rag before you continued your plea.

“Look, guys, I understand.” you grimaced before meeting Seungmo’s gaze again. He was leaning against the archway to the kitchenette, waiting for whatever you were to say next. “I know we were all looking forward to this break. But Foucher offered us more money than we’ve ever seen for a single job before—and you know what that kind of coin could mean for all of us.”

“Enough for how long though?” Binni asked with a wary glance. “I mean, we risk our necks for him time and time again, and all he does is keep upping the stakes. First, it’s cargo runs, now prisoner escorts halfway across the globe?”

Yongbok nodded in agreement from where he was standing next to Seungmo with his arms folded across his chest. His usual smile was nowhere to be found. “Binni’s right. This isn’t just a supply run or a simple trade, Cap. Cliffpoint Hollow, as beautiful as it may be, is nearly six months away, and that's if the ship is sturdy enough to make it. There's no other towns and outposts across the open waters for miles. There’s nowhere to stop for resupply, and if the rumours are true, those waters are crawling with hostiles.”

Murmurs of concern spread throughout the dining room, each of your men weighing the risk in their minds, grumbling and conversing in distress. You had to raise a hand to quiet them all down once more.

“I hear you guys. Believe me, I do. Your concerns and uneasiness do not go unnoticed. But this is fifty thousand gold we’re talking about here. That’s not counting the stolen jewellery and gems Foucher’s throwing in as part of the deal.”

Jeo’s eyes widened, his initial shock giving way to an almost childlike excitement. Yongbok, too, couldn’t hide his intrigue, though he tried to mask it. Even Binni, skeptical as ever, seemed to soften at the mention of the payout.

But Jinn and Seungmo remained unmoved. Jinn crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “How do we even know he’s good for it?” he asked. “Did you see the loot, or are we just taking his word?”

“I saw it,” you said sharply, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. “I wouldn’t be here asking this if I wasn’t sure.”

You didn’t need to see the loot to know Foucher had it. The loot was rightfully yours after all, though you weren’t about to admit that to your crew. You’d been keeping your past a secret from them for years, and the less they knew about it, the better.

Everyone was silent for another moment before Binni set the feet of his chair down on the wooden floorboards and leaned forward, his interest piqued.

“When does he want us to leave?” He asked. His tone was casual, but the weight of the question hung heavy. You swallowed roughly and let out an exhale

“At dawn.”

Seungmo was the first one to crack under the pressure. He surged forward in annoyance, his feet scratching loudly against the floor.

“Are you fucking mad?” His voice rang with frustration, his cheeks flushed. “Jinn and I are supposed to be home by the end of the week. Home, Cap. To our wives!” His hand hit the table with a dull thud, punctuating his words as he leaned over the table. “You promised us the summer to rest!”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Seungmo was too far gone, his emotions taking over. “We just finished a brutal job from Hawthorne, and now you want us to play delivery boys for Foucher? Do you even hear yourself?”

Your jaw tightened. The reaction wasn’t unexpected, but the raw edge in Seungmo’s voice still cut deep. The room bristled with the tension of his outburst.

“Seung, sit down,” Lino said evenly, though his voice carried an edge of warning. His gaze darted briefly to you before returning to Seungmo. Seungmo, however, ignored Lino’s demand and hit the table again with another thud.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” his laugh was bitter. “We were supposed to go home. I mean, did you even stop to consider Jinn and I? I have a wife at home waiting for me, fuck. Jinn has a wife and a newborn baby boy that he hasn’t even met yet! Are you trying to tell me we’re not allowed to go home and see them? That we have to stop our lives and do Foucher’s bidding once again?”

“Seungmo, that’s enough!” Lino growled, his eye calculating the younger male’s every move. He knew Seungmo would never outwardly hurt you, not intentionally anyway, but Seungmo’s temper was a force all its own.

You stood abruptly then, slamming your hand down on the table hard enough to rattle the few tankards that were still being used. The sound snapped the room’s attention back to you. Your blood was beginning to boil from his insinuation.

“Do you think I don’t know that?” you snapped, your voice rising with authority. “You don’t think I took any of that into consideration when Foucher offered us the deal?” you nearly snarled at him. The room fell silent once more, every pair of eyes on you as you pushed forward, your voice shaking with conviction.

“Of course, I want you two to go home and spend time with your family. I want all of us to have a break. But this isn’t just about today or tomorrow, Seungmo. This is about our future. All of ours. I want you and Yongbokki to have enough money to open the inn that you guys are always raving and ranting about in every goddamn city we stop in. I want Jinn to be able to afford a nursery for his son so the poor thing doesn’t have to room with them until he’s of age to leave home. I want Jeo to have enough money to open the orphanage he’s been planning out since he was thirteen, and I want Lino to start up the Fighter’s Guild in Eagles Bay. I want Chan and Binni to buy their own ship one day and continue on the legacy we started. I want all of us to be happy and content, and with the payout from this job, I know we can get all of that and more.”

You squeezed your hand into a fist and dug your nails into your skin, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down before finishing.

“I only want what’s best for all of you.” your voice ran with unyielding conviction, though a tremor of emotion lurked beneath the surface. You swept your gaze over the rest of your crew members once before landing back on Seungmo again. “Don’t you dare, for even a second, think I don’t put you guys first in every decision I make.”

The room fell eerily silent. The faint sound of waves lapping against the dock outside was the only movement in the air, the tension thick and palpable. Seungmo’s hard expression wavered, his eyes narrowing slightly as your words pierced through his frustration. The defiance that had lit his face moments before began to soften, replaced by the faint shine of regret.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort.

“I-I’m sorry, Cap,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. He dropped his head, the tips of his ears burning red. “I’m sorry for lashing out.” His hand moved quickly, swiping away at the corner of his eye before disappearing behind his messy brown hair.

The sight of Seungmo, the crews usually unshakable morale booster, humbled like this tugged at your chest. You leaned forward, reaching across the table to rest a hand on his shoulder. The fabric beneath your touch was worn but familiar, and you pressed your thumb into small circles, a gesture of quiet reassurance.

“It’s alright, Seung. Take a breath,” you said gently, the edge in your tone giving way to warmth. You waited as he inhaled deeply, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself.

“I understand your frustrations, and I’m sorry for not consulting with you guys first. If you truly want to go home, if any of you do…” you paused, letting your eyes sweep across the room. “We’ll drop you off on the way out. No hard feelings. Chan will keep your share safe until we return.”

The silence that followed felt heavier than before, a quiet reckoning passing through the room. Jeo fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, his wide eyes darting nervously between Seungmo and Jinn, while Yongbok began chewing on the nail of his thumb, a nervous habit he picked up years ago.

It was Binni who finally broke the tension, leaning back in his chair with his usual devilish grin. “I think I can speak for the majority of us when I say, we’re with you, Captain.” He let out a bark of laughter, his chair tilting precariously. “You’re a crazy sonofa bitch, but you’re our crazy sonofa bitch. I’m in.”

Jeo let out a breath of relief and nodded. “Me too,” he said, his voice lighter, though the faintest trace of unease lingered in his eyes.

“Aye,” Yongbok called out with glee.

You felt a swell of gratitude, but the real test lay in the two pairs of eyes that hadn’t yet confirmed their loyalty; Jinn and Seungmo. The room seemed to collectively hold its breath as attention shifted toward them.

Jinn was the first to speak, his mouth quirking into a faint smile.

“I’ve been meaning to pay a visit to Cliffpoint,” he said, his voice rumbling through the stillness. “If Ophelia finds out I had the chance to see her homeland and didn’t take it, I’d never hear the end of it.” His grin widened as he glanced around at the rest of the crew. “Besides, it’s not a true journey without all of us. Eight makes fate.”

Your heart lifted at his words, and you gave him a grateful nod before turning to Seungmo. All eyes fell on the young man, who shifted uncomfortably under their weight. His lips pressed into a thin line as he considered the implications of the decision before him.

The silence stretched, almost unbearable, until Seungmo let out an exasperated huff of laughter. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” he muttered, shaking his head as a reluctant grin tugged at his mouth.

You didn’t wait for him to say more. You reached across the table, pulling him into a firm, grateful hug. His shoulders were tense for a moment before he relaxed. Letting out soft chuckles as you squeezed him.

“Oh, hush up,” you said with a laugh, releasing him and falling back in your chair with ease. “By this time next year, we’ll be the richest pirates in all of Fatewatch.”

Jinn ran a hand through his hair, leaning casually against the edge of the table. His easy smile faltered for just a moment, replaced by a flicker of concern.

“I hope you’re right about this, Cap.” he said, his voice quieter now, though it held more warmth than doubt.

You felt that same unease twist in your gut but pushed it down, forcing a confident smile onto your face.

“I’m always right,” you replied, your voice steady. But as the room began to fill with the hum of conversation and plans for the journey ahead, that gnawing feeling in your gut refused to leave.

Because deep down, you knew this wasn't just another job. It wasn't just another risk.

This was a gamble with the stakes stacked so high that one wrong move could unravel everything you worked your ass off for—and not even fifty-thousand gold could buy your way out.

Tags: @moonlightndaydreams @collisvng @frequentlykit @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @n0y4 @chuuyaobsessed @newhope8 @palindrome969 @krayzieestay @lunearta @nightmarenyxx @queen-in-the-shadows

⚓️Next Part ⚓️

#the blackened heart part one #the blackened heart #tbh #itsseohannbin #itsseonhannbin mini series #itshannjisung #itshannjisung mini series #stray kids fic #pirate skz #pirate fic #itsseohannbin fics

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dailydemonspotlight · 4 months ago

Text

Skadi - Day 115

Race: Lady

Aracana: Empress

Alignment: Light-Chaos

September 27th, 2024 (Posted Sep 30, 2024)

Among the most unique figures within Norse mythology, the most famous aside from the Æsir themselves are likely the jötunn. Many of the ranks of the frost giants have risen to pop-cultural infamy, such as Ymir or Grendel. However, one of the most baffling of the morally gray bunch of giants has to be today's Demon of the Day, and a fan favorite for many. This incredibly curious figure is none other than Skaði, commonly anglicized as Skadi. Of the many jötunn, Skadi is one of the most confusing, with a web of history and translations connecting her, somehow, to the Irish figure Scáthach, so without further ado, let's delve in.

Skadi herself is a rather simple figure, which is funny given how bizarre her portrayal in SMT is. As a jötunn, one could assume this giantess to be an antagonistic force, but she's a far friendlier face- she's a representation of hunting and the wilderness, as well as being the wife of Njörðr, the Norse god of the sea. Not much is said about Skadi, outside of her representation as a goddess of hunting and that, though she does have a major myth, being in the form of her heading to Asgard to get revenge for the death of her father, Þjazi. Now, if that name sounds somewhat familiar to you, I'd be surprised- but if you saw the name Thiazi, it might make more sense, as he was the giant who kidnapped Idun, who I went over in her own analysis.

While, predictably, kidnapping an Æsir will get you on the bad side of the rest of the gods, the younger Skadi didn't care- she marched all the way up to Asgard, tow in battle armor, and was met by the gods, who decided to play a game with her rather than entertain her quest for revenge- they offered her a husband in exchange for her condition of not attacking them, being to make her laugh. The thing is, Skadi wished to marry Baldur, but she was only given the ability to look at the feet of the gods who were set to be her spouse. She, naturally, thought the best looking feet would belong to Baldur, but, lo and behold, they belonged to Njörðr, a guy who just wanted to be left alone and hang out in the sea.

Displeased, Skadi went on to the next offering- to make her laugh- and Loki had an idea, as he always did. He tied a rope around one of his testes, and another around the beard of a jumping goat, and every time the goat would jump he'd yelp, causing her to laugh as he'd eventually fall in her lap. Finally, as a last thing to please her, Odin tossed Þjazi's eyes into the sky, where they became stars. The stars they became are somewhat disputed, but a common consensus seems to be that they were Castor and Pollux. Regardless, satisfied, Skadi eventually went to marry Njörðr, though the marriage went off with many hitches, and the two eventually went their separate ways.

Now, what does this all have to do with Scathach? Well, Scathach and Skadi both have similar names, similar roles, and lots of other similarities, being both representations of hunting in their respective cultures. This, eventually, led to a strange amount of conflation between the two, mostly led by one Barbara G. Walker in her book, the Woman's Encyclopedia of Myths and Secrets. The book drew a connection between Skadi and Scathach, claiming the two to effectively be the exact same figure, and while her claims have been disputed, this idea has permeated throughout culture (as seen with Fate Grand Order) as well as throughout SMT itself, wherein Skadi's design takes clear inspiration from elements of Scathach's. Overall, a pretty strange source for a stranger claim, but one that SMT took inspiration from regardless.

#smt #shin megami tensei #megaten #persona #daily #i'll be posting another one later today to make up for missing out on friday #but for rn i'm pretty tired lol

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thelikesoffinn · 8 months ago

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Hi friend! I have an question because of your DID post. I read a lot of stuff about DID end I watches something on Youtube to learn more about DID and now I'm agreeing that Astorian really don't have DID. But now after learning I'm thinking that maybe Durge could? What do you say?

Both spoilers and talks of DID symptoms ahead!

Oooooh, hiya babes!

I love that you went and looked up some stuff after reading my post so that you could come to your own conclusion. That's exactly what I want to achieve! I want to encourage people to learn more about the things I mention instead of taking them at face value, so I'm happy to hear that it works for some of you!

Also: Bad anon! Very bad! *posh people "nonono" finger shake* Please do not drag Durge into the DID community. They already have many a homicidal bastard in their rep ranks, and they do not need one more.

(Tone: Humorous but also really, please don't! For those who haven't yet: You can read a rough why here!)

But, as always, let's treat this as the discussion you meant it to be and chat about it!

With Durge - as opposed to that wildy idiotic Astarion tiktok theory we've talked about before - I can actually kind of see why you reached this conclusion.

Now, that doesn't mean I agree with the take that Durge has DID, but alas, I do see where you're coming from.

Durge actually does show some symptoms that we do commonly associate with DID as opposed to Astarion, who doesn't really show any.

There's the ever-present mood swings we see - some of them left to the players' choice - which are a common symptom many DID systems deal with. (As do patients with all sorts of other disorders, but let's stay on topic for the sake of brevity.)

One example of that would be barking at Isobel like a rabid dog and then immediately changing your tune and apologising straight after.

Disordered sleep is another symptom that is rather common in DID and also something we find in Durge. I don't think there's much to be said, we can see how restless their sleep is every long rest and, later on, Astarion even mentions that he hasn't seen them "sleep through the night once in the past days".

Lastly, and probably the most "glaring" symptoms we could potentially find are fainting spells and, mostly connected to those, fugue.

The fugue is most obvious after Durge first slaughters Alfira, seeing as they wake up bloodied and next to a corpse and don't even remember how it got there or what happened to it.

The fainting spells are shown a little later in Act 2, after we fail to kill Isobel and Sceleritas, the little chum!, tasks Durge to kill whoever they love the most. Durge barely manages to wake their beloved and inform them of what is happening before fainting and turning into that rabid beast we see throughout the night.

Oh, and one thing that is definitely there, but I'd still like to kind of push aside is Durge's headaches. I know they mention it A LOT - "I have such a headache." 'nough said. - and that it is a common somatic symptom in DID, but we have to keep in mind that Orin pretty much scrambled Durges' brain AND that they have a tadpole worming around in there.

Both of those are likely to cause headaches, so I'm hesitant to count them.

So now, with all of these symptoms that can serve as potential indicators, would I say that Durge has DID?

No.

I do think that you could easily headcannon that into your own character design if you were so inclined, since there's some bases that are covered.

I won't stand in anyone's way in that regard! It is your game and your creativity, but I don't believe that Durge has DID for multiple reasons.

Firstly, the symptoms are just too lax. They're really spread out, they shift like the tide, they're often untriggered, and they really only revolve around murder and mayhem. Nothing else.

While we have what we could generally mistake for a shift of conscience, it's less an actual shift and more Durge being overcome by their murderous urges. That is a really, really big difference.

Durge has these Urges all the time - often displayed as some sort of intrusive thought. It's just that in the few moments we see, they win.

It's like rice or kitty litter. You walk past those giant bags at the shops on a day to day basis and something in you just WANTS to slap that bag. Just a good smack. You can see yourself do it and that little voice is there every time you see those bags.

You resist most days, but on a random Tuesday, you give in and slap that bag.

With Durge, it's similar. Only instead of slapping a bag of rice, they kick a squirrel against a tree. That's not a shift in conscience. That's simply an Urge winning.

Plainly stated: There's no evil Alter that comes to and randomly goes off to kill innocent Bards and Clerics. It is still all Durge, and, for the most part, Durge can remember what they did.

I say, for the most part, because the Alfira incident seems to be the exception to that. We have no other incident where Durge can't remember what they did. It is only with Alfira, as far as I'm aware. (I suspect this is done for suspense rather than because Durge is plural.)

So there's apparently no amnesic walls between the mad dog and normal Durge and amnesic walls are pretty much why DID even exists since without those, there can be no Alter.

As I said in my other post, DID is the result of intense early childhood trauma. Amnesic walls are the protective measure the brain takes to keep the child alive.

It serves to separate the child from their trauma by basically shoving that trauma into one specific part of the brain and locking it away, which then creates an Alter since the child has yet to develop a set personality.

So the missing of those amnesic walls is pretty much the biggest indicator that there is no DID here.

Then there's the fact that Durge is immediately cured of everything once they are disowned by Bhaal, and that is, unsurprisingly, not how DID works. The creation of Alters becomes a third addition to the natural fight or flight. From then on out, it's fight, flight, or dissociate, which is why people with DID can develop further Alters later in life.

And lastly, my absolute favourite hill: Narratively, it just doesn't make any sense whatsoever. DID is a very specific disorder that holds a lot of storytelling potential, tragic as it is. In fact, the tragedy behind that disorder is where the potential often comes from - that and its rarity - since tragedy has always inspired creative minds all throughout history.

No one would go through the trouble of implementing that and then just discard it and never mention it.

So, to sum it up, I would say what Durge suffers from is called "Bhaal" and not DID! But once again, I do see how one could come to that conclusion, so there's no shame there.

(Also, I do hope everyone can now see why I said Astarion really doesn't show any signs of DID. Really none. If Durge doesn't have it, he doesn't either. Stop that tiktok nonsense, please.)

Anyway, babes! You have a lovely day now, and feel free to hit me up whenever you want to chat! Even if you have a different opinion or take on this, I'd be happy to hear all about it!

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate #astarion #the dark urge #astarion ancunin #bg3 durge #durgestarion #durgetash #durge

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changelingsandothernonsense · 2 years ago

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Number two from the OC worldbuilding ask game for Sydari! Tell me all about them languages >:)

2. How does your OC communicate? Are they monolingual or multilingual? What is the linguistic environment they’re in? If they’re monolingual, is there a social penalty for only speaking one language, or is it the norm? If they’re multilingual, which of their languages or sociolects has the most/least prestige? Is there a separation between written and oral forms of the language? Can your OC blend in or does their language mark them in some way? What are their levels of fluency, and how do they feel about them?

Sydari primarily speaks Cyrodilic, she grew up in Windhelm, and her native tongue was heavily repressed, particularly after the Great War. Ulfric's ascension saw a city-wide crackdown on all cultural practices that deviate from Nordic tradition. You'd think that would mean she picked up Nordic? No, her people were mostly confined to the Gray Quater with a few exceptions, Dunmer were not permitted to speak Nordic. They are not permitted to engage in their festivals or freely hold their own. So Cyrodillic, as the lingua franca of Tamriel became Sydari's first language. It's the only language that she can read and write in. And even then, her literacy leaves a lot to be desired. She coasted by with semi-literacy until she couldn't hide it any more. Dunmeris, though heavily repressed as of 4th Era 199 was freely spoken in the Grey Quarter just long enough for Sydari to pick it up. These restrictions came in slowly throughout her childhood, ramping up with the outbreak of the Great War, around the same time she fled the city. She's semi-fluent in the Windhelm dialect, though she never learnt how to read, let alone write using the daedric alphabet. Her father was no help, though he did speak exclusively in the Vvadenfell dialect of Dunmeris, it was often slurred, mumbled monologues that she only half remembers. She never really thought much about it. It's not a language commonly used in Skyrim, and though some of the Dunmer in Riften spoke a similar dialect, it was never the language anyone used to address her. Her husband knew even less, so she had to teach Brand-Shei a few key phrases. (The journal Sydari finds in the Pride of Tel Vos was translated for her by Enthir for a few favours). She was always mildly bothered by the fact she couldn't read or write in Dunmeris, mostly due to an old note she was given as a child, something secret she kept as good luck. She's had multiple opportunities to have it translated, it's just something she's built up in her mind over the last half a century. It's almost better to not know what it says. There's a scribble of an eight-legged creature she later discovered was either a netch or silt hopper, the drawing was kinda crude. Sydari hadn't really planned on visiting Morrowind, her life was in Riften, she had a home, and was attempting to build a family. But things go wrong as they always do and she found herself alone pursuing a job on Solstheim. She found that she couldn't really understand the version of Dunmeris that was spoken in Raven Rock, she had the basics but there were intricacies, phrases, implied context that she just did not have the background to understand. What makes it worse was that her knowledge was just assumed, most Dunmer that live there come from Blacklight. Sure a handful lived in Windhelm but that was before the more obvious restrictions. When she first arrived, it was hard to get anyone to speak to her unless she switched to really basic Dunmeris, Skyrim-born Dunmer are somewhat pitied but not coddled. If she wanted to speak to them, she had to use her mother tongue. Sydari is pretty good at bullshitting, so she's been able to bluff her way into acceptance. Geldis was willing to speak to her in Cyrodillic right off the bat. The guy is usually pretty open and wouldn't disparage her for not understanding half of what was being said to her. Being a tavern owner gives him more experience in dealing with outlanders. Teldryn spoke to her using Cyrodillic pretty early on, though he still assumed she was more fluent than she let on. He writes to her exclusively in Dunmeris and it's begun to cause issues. She's asked Geldis for translations on several occasions but she's embarrassed by her lack of knowledge. She mostly just switches to smiling and nodding. Only getting the letters translated if he brings them up. The letter form is familiar but she hasn't made the connection yet.

#asks #fun stuff #sydari aralen #dunmeris fun #geldis sadri #teldryn sero #mentions of them #serious mistakes

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calebscalamity · 2 years ago

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So... the critic scores for the Mario movie are finally coming out, and to say that there's been a less-than-favorable response would be an understatement. Usually don't delve too deeply into topics like this, but with all the misinformed takes going around I think I gotta throw my own hat into the ring, ya know? Before we start the match, Obligatory disclaimer that ya'll are entitled to your own opinions regarding the Mario movie and don't have to engage with every criticism thrown its way, nor should you. Don't let what some random internet stranger says online deter your enjoyment of the film and whatnot. With that being said, some misconceptions definitely do need to be cleared up.

Starting off small, it seems like a lot of people don't actually understand how sites like Rotten Tomatoes work. They'll pull up critic reviews from other media seen as bad by the vast majority as evidence that the critics don't know what they're talking about, but it's not so black and white. RT works as a reference site for viewing different critic reviews. They add up different assessments from multiple professional critics on a specific movie and spit out a general percentage of the amount that rated it positively vs negatively. When RT says a movie got a 53% rating, what they really mean is that only 53% of the critics who reviewed it rated it positively. It's never the exact same people reviewing different movies, which is likely where the disparity comes from. Jumping off of the critics themselves, the arguing points many of them bring up regarding the flaws of the film are met with plenty of scrutiny from others. I've seen a lot of backlash and mockery over the flaws that they do mention. However, looking at some of the reviews myself, I don't think a lot of them were being too unreasonable, and they're likely just the result of them having different expectations as critics. For example, the most commonly cited critique I saw was the overall plot of the movie. The general consensus seemed to be that they found the story to be far too formulaic and uninteresting to have any significant appeal, and that most of the entertainment came from the abundance of easter eggs and game references found throughout the film. While this on its own has incited a lot of backlash from fans of the movie, I think the enjoyment factor from critics vs audiences is an overall interesting talking point that I unfortunately don't see spoken about much. At the end of the day, this is a film targeted towards children and fans of the Mario series. While that's not necessarily a bad thing depending on who you ask, it does have potential repercussions on how people outside that demographic will react to it. I'm sure the two groups I mentioned before will probably have a blast with this movie and see it as a pretty great outing, but would a person who isn't familiar with the games or isn't even a gamer feel the same way? I mean, I've dabbled with a few Mario games from time to time and did enjoy them, but I don't really hold any significant attachment to the franchise in general, and it doesn't seem like I'd gain a whole lot from this movie as a result.

Comparing it to the Sonic Movies, while I did indeed naturally enjoy the first two films as a fan of the Sonic games, I can also acknowledge that I personally find the story on its own to be well-structured and easy for others to follow regardless of their relationship with the Blue Blur. This movie in contrast is likely made especially for the fans to enjoy. As a Mario movie? It's probably a solid outing and a delight for the people within that fanbase. But as a movie on its own merits? That seems to be what a lot of the critics are judging it as and many of them aren't finding much substance within it.

And I know that people will come in saying that I shouldn't be expecting some super deep story from the Mario series and that the games are known for having simplistic stories, but that's precisely the problem. You can usually excuse a bare-bones plot in a video game because most people are there for the actual gameplay, the story is just a nice bonus. But when it comes to such a radically different medium like film work, you can't get away with having a non-existent story in such a way, and there needs to be a tight structure of some sort to garner people's interest. Furthermore, I also don't think we should be overlooking these critiques with defenses such as the source material or younger audience. Something being made for kids shouldn't be an excuse to not try, and I feel like the best kids media are the ones that don't talk down to children and feature genuinely good writing in their stories that other demographics can naturally also come to enjoy simply because it's good writing. The Lego Movie and Puss in Boots were also marketed toward children, but they both also had good writing that many other demographics were able to appreciate. Like I said before, I don't think the Mario movie primarily being aimed at fans of the franchise is necessarily a bad thing, but it can certainly leave a lot to be desired for someone who might want the movie to be able to stand on its own detached from the source material.

All in all, I feel like people are massively misinterpreting information and the job of critics in general when it comes to debates such as these. I won't deny that critic scores alone shouldn't be your only indicator of quality when it comes to media like video games and movies (The aforementioned Sonic movies are sitting in the mid to high 60s on RT, but lots of others hold them in high regard), but I think it is worth analyzing their problems with said media and how that might impact your overall enjoyment. Let's just try not to see things so black and white all the time. To anyone planning on seeing the Mario movie, I hope you guy's have a great time and fully enjoy yourselves!

#calebsramblings #mario movie #mario #super mario #mario bros movie #nintendo #movie critic

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forthoseinterested · 1 month ago

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Lying practice

The best lies weave in aspects of truth to lend to their credibility. If a claim sounds wrong, but then I pour things that sound true on top of it, the wrong-sounding things absorbs the trueness energy from the true-sounding things, and then your brain gets confused and it might end up believing the wrong-sounding thing. Especially if you think the true-sounding thing is an explanation for why that first thing sounded wrong, and you’re like “ohhhhhh, that explains it”, and you feel like you just uncovered some kind of secret, misleading truth—the coveted thing that sounds wrong at first, but is actually true. Plus, you have a recency bias, where the feeling of wrongness is further away in time from the feeling of rightness.

So for example, if I told you the game ‘baseball’ was not named after the things they put on the ground in the game, called ‘bases’, but because the game was originally popularized on military bases, that might sound wrong to you, especially if that’s all I said.

Instead, let’s imagine I say baseball was brought to North America in the early 19th century and was originally just one of many sports referred to as a bat-and-ball game alongside cricket, but it was popular to play in an enclosed courtyard like on a government base, common throughout the eastern US at that time, because the balls couldn’t escape the area. This led to the baseball field itself being called a base, hence baseball, but by the 1850s as the sport became popular in New York metropolitan area, and the originally circular field was replaced with a square whose corners people began calling bases. That’s the period when all the rules and terminology of modern baseball were first cemented.

Do you believe me now? Well okay, but if I’d written this without the preface about lying, and you’re somebody who didn’t already know a lot about baseball, you might’ve.

I think one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard that turned out to be true was the origin of okay. The word ‘okay’ is actually just us spelling out the letters ‘OK’. When I was growing up, I thought it was the other way around, and that ‘ok’ was just a clever way of writing okay, like how writing ‘u’ could be a shorter way to say ‘you’. But no, the letters came first. And for a long time, nobody was sure where the hell they came from. Was it somebody’s initials? There was a theory that some army general needed to sign off on things and he did so with his initials, so you’d have to get the OK from somebody to proceed. It wouldn’t be the first time soldiers accidentally created a slang while at war and then brought it home and unleashed it. But nobody could track down this legendary OK-initials person. Then for a time people thought it came from another language. But today, while we still don’t know for sure, the most commonly accepted hypothesis is that it came from people deliberately writing ‘all correct’ as ‘oll korrect’ for no reason except they found it funny to do so.

If you think about it, we do stupider trends than this today, but it still feels like I’m getting pranked reading this etymology. And so are you, because I made it up. No, wait, just kidding, I didn’t make it up, this one is true.

Did you know the real-life retailer called Kmart used to be called Kwikee-Mart? It was renamed in 1990, after The Simpsons, a newly created series at the time, debuted a fictitious store called the Kwik-E-Mart. They tried to get them to change it, but lawyers representing Fox argued the type of store was too dissimilar (convenience store vs. large department store) and the fictional Kwik-E-Mart represented a critique of retailers (because it had comically high prices), which is a protected form of copyright use anyway.

After Kwikeemart lost the appeal, the company’s board opted to rebrand their stores to Kmart instead. Despite winning the case, Matt Groening later commented that the experience dealing with Kmart led The Simpsons producers to avoid using any real-life brands entirely, even though in many cases it could’ve been their legal right to do so. And then once the show had established itself, having real-life brands appear in it would’ve felt wrong, as always using fictitious brands like Krusty Burger became Simpsons tradition.

Speaking of American retailers: did you know the chain Target has one of the best forensics labs in the US? Lots of stores have video cameras to try and catch shoplifters, but Target has gone above and beyond with its tactics. A few years ago you may have heard the viral story about how they’ll identify a shoplifter, but instead of apprehending them immediately their security personnel will stand by in wait until that person shoplifts again (as the vast majority of shoplifters do). After they’ve stolen enough money’s worth of merchandise to qualify for a felony, often across multiple instances, only then the company will have them arrested. This gets the person higher charges and a longer prison sentence.

Target has also invested a lot into its own ‘crime labs’ to analyze images and video footage from multiple angles. If you escape the store unidentified and hop into a vehicle down the street, they might identify you by stitching together a blurry video from a private dashcam on the highway combined with a blurry picture from a speeding camera. They have established connections with other businesses and always maintain a good relationship with local police. In fact, many police departments have come to Target to help with forensics cases, because Target’s internal forensics lab became so generalized handling cases across the country that they had the equipment and talent for situations that were sometimes outside the scope of local law enforcement. If it weren’t for Target’s loss prevention initiatives, there might’ve not been enough demand to create a lab as good as theirs.

I made up one of those and the other one is true. Which do you think is which? Shut up.

#language #lies #i don't know

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lunarasphodel · 6 months ago

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OH!

HELL YES. I’ve been waiting to talk about this thank you so much for giving me the opportunity!! <- said with the vibrant enthusiasm of a thousand suns

So, when I said this would be an essay I Meant it- here we go!!

I’ll get into why I love the phrase so much in a minute, but for now imma explain where in the game it comes from and why it's significant (in my heart). The phrase “stars, stars, stars,” comes from Isabeau’s friendquest, unlocked in act 3, when he goes stargazing with Siffrin! The dialogue initially (in act 3) is “Stars, stars, stars, all around you. You inhale sharply.” and then, in act 4 it becomes “Stars, stars, stars, all around you. You want to crush them all.” The change being reflective of Siffrin’s ✨emotional/mental deterioration✨, as well as how he essentially feels�� abandoned. By his faith, his home, and the life he knows but can’t remember. I’ll get into this more in a minute!

Part of the reason that I love the phrase itself is because of the repetition, I tend to really like sets of threes (as the human brain is inclined), and space is one of my special interests so I just find the word “stars” to be very aesthetically pleasing. One of the deeper reasons is that Isabeau’s friendquest was my first interaction with In Stars and Time, because the friend who recommended the game to me let me play it on her Switch! The scene as a whole has a special place in my heart just because it was my first impression of a game and characters that mean a lot to me as it is! (Isabeau specifically, I adore him!!)

Now that we've been over why I like the phrase, let's go over why I think it's textually significant! First we have to go over Siffrin and the Forgotten Country. So, we know a few important things about the Forgotten Country and its culture. I’m gonna bullet point these so it makes more sense:

-Wish Craft was popular/commonly used enough that the proper rituals were taught to children.

-Siffrin says, in the secret library, that an important part of the ritual is to repeat the wish three times, but it doesn’t have to be three, it should be however many times feels right. All this to say, repetition is important to Wish Craft rituals, and the faith as a whole.

-Another important aspect to the Forgotten Country’s faith is the Universe and the stars.

For example, the orrery, the star charts, the fact that “stars” is a swear word (which indicates religious significance, such as how Odile says “Gems” or how people under Christianity will use “Jesus Christ” as a swear).

So while we don’t learn much about the Forgotten Country, there is a lot that we can infer from Siffrin as a character. One of the things that stuck out to me most is their frequent use of repetition. They tend to do things in threes quite often, and I think they also sometimes use sets of five as well (because of their party/family having five members). I don’t have evidence for the latter, but the former is evident every time Siffrin interacts with Dormont's Change God Statue to get a blessing, and when they sharpen the keyknife (notably, Siffrin says “please be sharp” three times, and then Isabeau, Mirabelle, and Bonnie mimic him, making the phrase said 6x). Point being, Siffrin repeats things often, and most commonly does so in sets of three. Not just in happy moments, he also does the whole self deprecation thing and calls himself “stupid, stupid, stupid” in various points throughout the game. However, he never does this flippantly, only when there’s emotion behind his words, which indicates that there are definitely some strong emotions behind when he says it during Isa’s friend quest! Which- I mean of course there would be! He’s desperate to be seen, loved, wanted. And Isabeau does this in a way that ties in something that inherently means a lot to them! In this case it seems perfectly logical that, when looking up to the stars, Siffrin would repeat the name of what is essentially their saint.

In regards to the Act 4 addition of “you want to crush them all,” I just love that this simple line expresses so much. For example, Siffrin knows that their home faith is the Universe, the stars, but he can’t remember learning this. He can’t remember his home, but he can see the stars and the Universe and even the island. All around them is evidence that it existed, even if it’s just in the form of a splitting headache or a sore throat. Also, and I could be wrong here because the lines between acts sometimes blur together for me, Act 4 is where Siffrin begins to learn. Everything from Wish Craft, to his language, to details of rituals that they didn’t even know were foreign. All the while, Siffrin is forgetting parts of the new life he’s made, no doubt leading him to feel like he’s trading one for another. To Siffrin, it feels like they’re giving up important memories to the Universe, in order to regain something that was stolen from them. And it’s cruel, it is, for the Universe to do this to them. It’s plain as day that Siffrin deals with a lot, especially in act 4, because that’s… the whole idea of the game, isn’t it? So he has to deal with the secrets, the repetition, the ugly feelings of wanting but being unable to ask. All the while, the Universe looks on and laughs- at least that’s how Siffrin sees it.

Overall it’s a beautiful representation of three things: Siffrin’s faith and rituals, his feelings toward Isa and... his whole situation, and their speech patterns as a whole. Isn’t it cool that so much can be inferred from so little??

also I have a tiny aside that I wanted to include but couldn't find a spot for: Humans naturally LOVE threes! They’re Everywhere!! Especially in fairytales, religion, and art. There’s something called a triptych, which is a set of three art pieces in conversation to one another that are displayed next to each other. All in all, threes are like crack to the human psyche <33

Anyways THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME RAMBLE ON ABOUT THIS!! I’ve been thinking about it for a while now and I hope it makes sense because I’m so excited to put the thoughts down that it very well could be incomprehensible :3

Has anyone prompted you yet

https://www.tumblr.com/delusional-cryptid/756805408476348416/more-collage-content-he-deserves-joy-methinks?source=share

- @siffwinning

:O!! Hi!! And No, not yet!! I’m not sure what you mean tho, could you elaborate mayhaps? (/genuine)

#remy rambles #HI SO THANK YOU IM SO HAPPY I GOT TO TALK ABOUT THIS!!#I just love this game its got such cool worldbuilding and in depth writing!!#in stars and time #isat spoilers #asks answered #hehe remy rambles SO MUCH #:DD

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ladymarycrawley · 2 years ago

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Mummy was mine first - Mason Mount

Request: I have a request of a drunk Mason with his newly pregnant girlfriend - him getting all emotional thinking the new baby will take his girl away from him. Stuff like lifting her shirt and talking to his baby saying things like “remember your mummy was mine first 🥺”

Warning: Mason may sound like a prick in this but it was just for the sake of the story 💔

Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover @masterclassbaby

The moment you told Mason you were pregnant with your first child, he swore he couldn’t have been happier. He was literally on cloud nine, eager to live that unique and special experience with you, the love of his life.

As most of the things we have to deal with throughout our lifetime, it wasn’t all fun and games as expected. Actually you had to deal with a lot of changes that would come as the result of your newly found condition: the mood swings, the cravings, all the shopping for the baby, all the readings on how to teach things to your baby, how to grow him up perfectly and, at last but not least, all the potential dangers you had to be careful of.

It was a hell of a ride but it was worth it in the end, or that’s what you hoped at least.

He was absolutely crazy for you and he wanted to remember that image of you forever. Mason grabbed his Polaroid and took the most beautiful pictures of you naked, with your hair dishevelled on the pillow, the white bed sheets covering your lower body as you let your hands caress your baby bump.

In that moment the English footballer swore he never saw a woman as gorgeous as you, he really meant it when he said that the pregnancy made you even more beautiful than you already were. He thought it turned you into a goddess, as he couldn’t care less about the commonly called flaws you always complained about such as your stretch marks, your swollen feet, the extra weight you gained. He took every chance he got to make you feel loved, to give love to every inch of your body.

You sighed and shook your head as you got seated on the bed, looking for your t-shirt.

“Mason, stop it”

“You’re stunning, come on!” He giggled, holding the camera with one hand and lifting your chin up with the other, holding then your face in place to kiss you on the lips.

Mason shot a couple more pictures of you before putting the camera to the side and starting to kiss you passionately.

He was standing before you, balancing himself with his right leg bent over the mattress, at the side of your thigh.

The ardour that inflamed your kiss was so strong he straddled you, hovering over you, always being careful of your bump.

He gently led you towards the soft surface beneath, so you could be in a more comfortable position while he made you feel his love.

You didn’t have the slightest intention to move, you just wanted to stay there basking in the relaxing yet exciting feelings only he could give you. Your legs were loosely wrapped around his middle as his right hand was delicately keeping your thigh up while the left one was holding your arms back on the blanket, above your head.

A moan escaped your lips as you felt his fingers fiddling with your knickers.

During the pregnancy, even if it was something common for most women, you started developing a sense of discomfort towards your body: it was inevitably changing but, since you've never been that self confident, those major changes were only increasing the doubts about the beauty or the attractiveness of your curves.

Mason was willing to do everything that was in his power to make you enjoy sex without making you feel guilty, embarrassed or in pain. That's why you spent a whole afternoon on a website the ob gyn suggested you to have pregnant sex safely, to learn all the pros and cons of such a pleasurable activity during a time where things might have gotten a little more difficult.

Whenever your mind took you back to that afternoon you couldn't help but smile, both because it was a funny memory and because seeing Mason so careful and attentive towards you to make you feel better, filled your heart with more love. But reading advice and theories was a thing, putting them into practice was another, even more so since your belly was getting bigger, leading you through the third trimester.

“Mase, the -”

“Yep, the belly is in the way, I know” You both giggled, Mason was really caught up in the moment he didn’t think about the six (nearly seven) months belly you had to deal with.

He sighed, sitting on the bed again.

"It's not just that, my back hurts a little more today"

Mason helped you up, careful not to hurt you, massaging your aching muscles.

"I just ruined your sex drive" You let out in a low voice, feeling kind of bad.

"Hey hey, you didn't ruin anything, that's okay" He kissed your temple in the sweetest way. "Here, let's see if this one is more comfortable" Mason gestured for you to lay back on the pillows he put there to ease your back pain so your body was resting on the edge of the bed while his body was standing before yours, a little bent over.

You smiled at each other until your boyfriend's lips moved upwards to kiss your forehead, tracing your jaw next and ending on your neck.

In order not to weigh on your stomach, Mason kneeled down on your bedroom floor as his hands were on your hips and his mouth was leaving little hot kisses and bites against the soft skin of your thighs.

You would have liked to have sex with your boyfriend so bad but apparently your body didn't have the same intention: apart from the back pain, there were also those hateful little voices in your head the kept on saying you were embarrassing, that you didn't deserve the hot man which was your boyfriend to to make love to you because you were obscene, which wasn't the truth of course.

"I - I can't do it" You placed your hands on Mason's shoulders to make him stop.

He raised his head, frowning at your sudden halt.

"Sorry babe, I can't do this" You sniffled in the attempt not to burst out crying.

"That's okay" Mason said in a low voice, getting back on his feet and helping you up.

Various thoughts were beginning to crowd Mason's head too: he started asking himself what could have possibly gone wrong, weren't you really okay or was he just underestimating some signals he should have been careful of? You weren't attracted to him anymore??

He tried to fight all that brainwork while helping you get your clothes back on, doing the same with himself some minutes later.

"I'm sorry Mase, I really wanted to do that but -"

"I know, I know. Don't worry, it's fine" He faked a smile and left a gentle peck over your lips before leaving your bedroom and going to his game room. He needed to distract his mind a bit and maybe you needed some time alone too.

You huffed and went to the bathroom to fill the bath tub with some hot water and a rose scented water bomb to relax your sore body and your tired mind all the same. Warm water would also reduce some of the weight your spine had to sustain whic was a huge relief, making bath time something you had been really looking forward to at least once a day.

The last thing on your mind was upsetting Mason but you were sure he would have understood how you were feeling during that delicate moment.

In the other room, Mason’s attempt not to dwell on what happened an hour ago didn’t work as he was there, with his headphones on, his fingers shifting over the controller, his stare fixed on the screen before him but his mind was still on you. He knew a thing as big as the arrival of a baby would have changed your priorities but it didn’t want you to change the way you looked at him: he still wanted to be your hero, your everything, he was afraid he wasn’t ready to leave hthe place in your heart for the baby girl who would have been there in a couple of months.

Maybe he was just a bit moody, maybe he was being childish but that concern was something that had been keeping him awake for a whole week now.

Mason turned off the console, putting away all the other devices he used during game time and started wandering around the house looking for you as he came to the conclusion that the best and wisest thing he could do was sharing what his real thoughts were with you, the love of his life and the mum of his daughter.

“Y/N?”

The first room he checked in was the right one as he pushed the bathroom’s door ajar open and the image of you, standing applying some moisturising over your legs, welcomed him.

A small smile appeared on his lips as he entered the room wrapped in a cloud of heat reminding him you liked to take your shower and bath in hot, very hot water.

“Why didn’t you call me to help you get out of the tub?”

“Didn’t want to disturb you plus I’ve managed to do it myself” You say, a small note of pride in your voice.

Mason’s eyes roamed over your body, taking in your every movement and passing you the clean underwear and pajamas (that is to say a pair of joggers and one of his t-shirts) for the night.

"This may sound weird but... I don't like thieves"

"What?" You stopped massaging your face with the night lotion in order to understand what Mason was meaning with that apparent nonsense sentence he just spoke.

"Yeah I don't like people that steal things from me"

"Mason, are you okay? Who stole you what?"

He scoffed, somehow annoyed. He blankly stared down at his feet, as a child would do once getting scolded over something.

"The baby"

"Mase baby, sorry but I'm afraid I don't follow you"

You really were clueless about what he was complaining about, feeling a bit powerless too as you wanted to help him but it seemed kind of hard doing so with him not being clear about what his problem was. You noticed there was something weird in him that day but didn't understand what.

He huffed, getting closer to your body leaning against the basin, looking in the mirror in front of you reflecting both his pout and your frown.

Mason looked down at your exposed collarbone before moving a strand of hair behind your ear. He then laid his head where his glance was, uttering against your skin. "I don't want her to take you away from me"

"Oh Mase" You cooed. He was the cutest human being ever in that moment. He didn't seem like a man who was about to become a dad at all, he felt like a kid who's about to become the older brother and doesn’t want the newcomer to steal his parents' affection.

You started scratching the back of his neck affectionately, placing lingering kisses on the top of his head.

"I can assure you nothing bad will happen. She won't take me away from you, no one will ever. You two will be the most precious humans in my life, I'll love you more than words can express and I'll cherish every moment with the both of you"

Your lips took the place of your fingers, leaving kiss after kiss on his nape, where his hair was the shortest.

Mason sighed, a sad but relieved sigh, as if your remarks comforted him but he wasn't sure enough, as if he needed some more encouraging and endearing words from you.

"You know I love you, right?"

"I don't know"

"What does it mean you don't know??" Your tone feigning shock and disbelief.

"I don't know if you'll love her more than me"

"Oh…you're more of a child than the one I'm carrying in my belly, I swear"

He rolled his eyes at the sarcasm you were using to answer his apparently silly worry. Your reaction made him feel unappreciated, as you didn’t care enough about what caused him that sense of uneasiness.

Mason left you there standing in the bathroom as he let his stressed limbs lay on the soft bed in your bedroom.

“Mase? Are you serious?” You followed him in your room.

“Nevermind, don’t fell like talking now” He uttered, his words muffled as he was keeping his face flat against his pillow.

“Oh my goodness” You closed your eyes, stroking the bridge of your nose back and forth with your finger. The way he was acting was becoming rather annoying, to be honest, and you were too tired to fight for a useless cause with a grown man that was just, in your opinion, throwing a tantrum. “Okay. I’ll be on the sofa eating ice-cream and watching Netflix, if you wanna talk you know where to find me”

You left him there and went to take your spot on the grey sofa downstairs, ready to binge watch the latest season of Derry Girls while scoffing down what was left of your beloved brownie and cookie ice-cream that became a must of your pregnancy by now.

If there was something you hated dealing with was discussing with Mason especially now, where the smallest of inconvenience would bring tears to your eyes.

The moment your view was interrupted by the sound of his footsteps approaching, you sighed under your breath, determined to act as if you hadn't heard him. Until when he took a seat beside you and you felt his eyes burning through you.

“Do you want a spoonful?” You asked him to break the ice.

“Nope, I’d never steal my baby mama’s favourite ice-cream”

That line was supposed to bring a smile to your face and it succeeded in doing so.

“Stop talking about stealing”

You averted your sight from the screen only when Mason placed his head on your thighs, making the butterflies in your stomach come alive.

With your one free hand, you started stroking his cheeks, moving them to massage his scalp.

“What’s troubling you, Mase?”

After you heard him emitting a loud sigh you knew the thing was getting serious so you just paused the tv to have your full attention set on him.

“It’s just - I’m afraid the miss here will steal you from me, that you’ll give her all your love and attention and when it comes to me you’ll be too tired to even look at me”

“Mase -”

“I’m so worried about this, Y/N. I know, this may sound as something childish or immature but I don’t want anything to change between us, apart from changing nappies and things like that”

You let out a soft chuckle and shifted in your seat to face him, as he had gotten up from your lap to seat properly.

“Look, I didn't mean to be harsh earlier, I’m sorry, but you hurt me when you said you weren’t sure whether I loved her more than you. I meant it when I said I’ll love you more than words can ever say. The baby will need all our attention and love and maybe yes, it’ll arrive a moment when we’ll be too tired to even kiss each other goodnight but it’s part of the process”

“I know but…I’m sorry, I wasn’t the one talking, it felt as if someone just took over me and spoke words I didn’t mean to say. I know it’s not easy having to deal with that ever growing belly but sometimes I just feel like I’m not doing enough to make you feel good and I hate that. I know she’ll need all our love, I’ve started loving her the moment you told me we would’ve become parents but sorry...I’ve been feeling weird lately” ”

The promise you made yourself not to cry, failed miserably and your orbs started getting watery with tears.

“You have nothing to reproach yourself for, Mason, really. It’s just - oh great, I’m a mess and she started kicking like a fucking footballer”

Mason chuckled and he promptly put his hand over the hump she formed pressing her feet against your belly.

“She learnt from the best” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“The fact is that…I appreciate every little thing you do to make my pregnancy a little more bearable and I’m so grateful for you, every single moment of my life but the truth is I don’t appreciate my changing body as much as you do and I always feel hideous, I’m really embarrassed of myself... the thought you want to make love to me feels absurd to me” You burst out crying and Mason had to hug you tightly to calm you down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make all of this about me”

“That’s okay and stop feeling sorry for everything. I love you so fucking much. I’m the one who has to be sorry” He let his lips linger against your forehead, detaching from your body when he felt your baby’s kick against his ribcage which was where your belly was leaning against.

He lowered himself further so his face was now at the same height as your stomach, lifting your t-shirt up so your bump was on full display. The moment Mason’s strokes met your swollen skin, your daughter calmed down a bit, giving you a rest.

“I think she’s a bit angry” You said, adjusting yourself against the armrest of the sofa so you could spread your bent legs more to let Mason make himself comfortable against your own body.

“Oh, daddy made you angry? I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Daddy didn’t mean to make his little princess angry, nor your mummy... it’s just that he loves your mummy so much…remember she was mine first, okay?”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d think you are drunk”

“I’m drunk in love”

“Oh Mase…”

“And now please baby, behave and don’t hurt mama cause she and dada have things to do”

“What kind of things do we have to do?”

“The ones where dada helps mama to love herself more…”

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aurathian · 2 years ago

Text

things that have stuck with me as a woc in (the zelda) fandom

Hey all. This post is mostly about the Gerudo and my own experiences in fandom as a Middle Eastern woman (will be using acronyms such as MENA and woc), because the longer I stay here the more insane I become. This post is mostly about a lot of horrible stereotyping, misogynistic, racist, etc. headcanons, and just downright horribly offensive comments I've witnessed that have stuck with me throughout my time here.

There are a lot of other problems in this fandom with a lot of other aspects of the games (the Zonai...) which I won't touch on, as the Gerudo resonate closest with me and I feel I have the authority to speak on these issues as I am MENA, and they are based on MENA stereotypes.

TW for racism, misogyny, xenophobia, abortion... it's just strange.

The most notable thing I've experienced during my time in this fandom is being spoken over, as a woc talking about woc issues, by white people. White people who were MY FRIENDS.

One instance that sticks out to me is when someone shared their art of Urbosa in a Zelda server. It was really sexualized, and her waist was EXTREMELY tiny. Below the art, the artist said, "her waist is snatched because she got an abortion." She didn't say this about the other characters she drew. Only the woc.

Do I need to elaborate on why that is a horrible, disgusting thing to say?

This really upset me. What upset me more, however, was that nobody spoke up. Nobody said hey, this is wrong, and what you said is gross. When I spoke about this with my friends, they continued to bash the art style or whatever and ignore the fact that what was said was disgustingly racist. Then, after repeating about 5 separate times the impact this had on me as a woc (because nobody was listening to me and the most action that was taken was hug emojis), I got asked: Are you MENA?

They chose to ignore the racism they were witnessing and then questioned my (already stated) credibility. To question my capacity to be upset, hurt, and angry. These were people I called friends.

This next instance was not me being spoken over, but it was... weird. In a Zelda server, someone shared their headcanons for their personal AU. One of these headcanons was:

The Gerudo stop aging until they meet their significant other.

This was to justify the person's pedophilic ship with Riju, which... yeah. Self explanatory. So not only that, but you are tying the life and worth of WOC to their partners which, in-game, are men. The Gerudo do not continue their lives until they met their partners. The woc do not continue their lives until they meet their partners.

Be real.

This person ended up getting called out (after MUCH convincing from me to do so...).

These are two specific instances that have stuck with me during my time in fandom, but now I'll touch on more general stuff.

The only way people speak about Urbosa or other Gerudo characters is sexually or violently. It seems we only have the capacity to say "yes mommy Urbosa step on me! Crush my bones!! Yes!!" which is actually extremely harmful. You can like the Gerudo. You can think they're sexy or hot. But you need to be more mindful about how you speak about them, because if the only way you can express your feelings about these woc is through acts of violence, that is a problem. Because you cannot see the Gerudo as characters beyond being man-hating lesbians to satisfy your own fetishes. By acting this way, you also contribute to the idea that Gerudo women cannot be feminine because they are brown-skinned. No other race in Zelda is spoken about this way.

The Gerudo are often attached to other characters, as mentioned previously. I think this is most commonly and easily seen with Urbosa. Whenever she is discussed, it is in relation to Zelda (mother-daughter relationship) or Zelda's mother (having an affair or whatever other headcanons there may be). It is rare that Urbosa is written on her own, outside of her relationships. Not like she has an entire society to run or anything.

Let's also not forget about the sexualization of Link in his Gerudo vai outfit. Yes, it's cute. Yes, it looks good on him. But so many of you borderline fetishize him wearing it. However, I don't think I know enough to speak on this specific issue, so I will stop there with that.

I will never forget the time I came across a post saying that the existence of Ashai, a pale Gerudo, is racist.

Here is Ashai. She teaches the dating lessons in Gerudo Town. As you can see, she is paler than a lot of the Gerudo.

However, contrary to the westernized belief that all Middle Eastern people are literally brown-skinned Muslims, the Middle East is extremely diverse. Middle Eastern people are pale, dark, brown, tall, short, Muslim, Christian, Jewish. We are not carbon copies of each other like this poster wanted the Gerudo to be. In fact, this same exact identical-ness is what made early versions of the Gerudo so racist. The one thing Nintendo did right was having a diverse range of skin tones for the Gerudo in BOTW, and by saying Ashai's existence as a pale Gerudo is racist, you erase all of that progress.

Race is not just in your skin tone. It's in your eyes, your nose, your mouth, your ears, your body. That is why, despite being pale, Ashai is Gerudo. Ashai is a WOC.

This post is not intended to stir up drama, because if you believe racism = drama, that is not on the poc calling it out.

If you are a white person who is friends with POC, this doesn't make you exempt from contributing to the harmful stereotypes or racism.

Sit down. Listen. And reflect.

#zelda #loz #legend of zelda #gerudo #urbosa #breath of the wild #link #racism #misogyny #woc #racism in fandom #might reblog if i remember other things that happened or wish to expand on this #but this was very emotionally taxing to write. please be kind to me #and stop speaking over poc!

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guqwrvte · 3 years ago

Note

quote game - "you're cute when you blush" jimin or taehyung please :)

⨽ pairing: jimin x reader (soulmate!au)

⨽ genre: fluff

⨽ warnings: none that i can think of :)

You let out a sigh as you averted your attention from the book you were reading to look out the window. Doing this was the norm for you. Sitting in a small cafe, enjoy your cup of coffee or tea while reading a book.

You sadly smiled as you watched the many couples and happy families walk past. You envied them. They were able to find their soulmates or were able to find the ones they wanted to be with for the rest of their lives. You looked at the small tattoo on your wrist, wishing you had found your soulmate.

Finding your soulmate wasn't easy, not when the thing that tied them to you was a small matching tattoo of their name on any part of their body, most commonly on their wrist.

The only indication that you got when you've met your soulmate was when that tattoo glowed. It would shine when you would've locked eyes with them.

For someone like you, it wasn't the best way to find your soulmate. You weren't a big fan of eye contact. In fact, you hated it.

"Caramel macchiato for Park Jimin, and __ y/n!" a worker called, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You got up from your chair and made your way to the cashier. You looked at the cups and frowned. They were two different sizes, and you suddenly forgot what side you had ordered. You weren't sure if you had requested the large or the regular.

"Mine's the large one," the man next to you chuckled. You nodded and picked up both, handing him the large. "Thanks." He said, taking the coffee from you.

"Your name's y/n, right?" he asked, and you nodded, staring at the cup you were holding in your hand. "For some reason, your name seems familiar," he said, your eyebrows to raise. You raised your head to look at him. "Do you-" you cut yourself off once you locked eyes with him.

The sudden bright light coming from your wrist caused you to gasp in surprise. The man rolled up his sleeve, looking at the glowing name on his forearm.

"Oh my gosh, Maria, they're soulmates!" You heard a cashier squeal as she witnessed the scene unfold in front of her.

Once the names were back to normal, you looked back at the man. He was already looking at you with a smile. "That's why your name sounded familiar."

"So... tell me a little about yourself?" Jimin asked you, starting a conversation. "I'm your average struggling student who likes to spend her time in cafes enjoying a cup of tea or coffee while reading a book," you said, not looking up from the book on the table.

"I major in Art and Literature, so it's either I'm always drawing or always reading, one of the two," you said with a soft chuckle. "I also spend my time in libraries, reading again. Wow, I just realised I do a lot of reading."

Jimin chuckled. "I read a bit too, so hopefully we can sit together and read," he said, and you smiled. Throughout the conversation, you avoided his gaze. Looking at everything except him. "What do you major in?" "I major in Design and Technology and take Dance as my second major."

You only nodded, taking a sip of your coffee. "You don't like eye contact do you?" he suddenly asked, catching you by surprise. "I mean, you've been looking everywhere except at me, not that I have a problem with it or anything. It's just easy to pick up."

You were slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, I'm not a big fan of eye contact." "That's okay. I wasn't a fan of it either. But I find it cute how you're trying so hard to avoid looking at me." Your eyes widened at his comment.

He wasn't wrong. You wanted to sit there and admire him, but your anxiety wasn't letting you. "It's okay. You can look at me all you want. I'm yours, after all."

You snuck a quick glance at him, your cheeks beginning to turn red. Jimin let out another laugh causing your cheeks to turn redder. You just wanted to run away and hide.

"Stop laughing! It's not funny," you whined, and he only laughed harder.

"You're cute when you blush," he commented, beginning to admire the red that was spreading across your cheeks.

You were happy you had finally met your soulmate. You finally had someone who would make your world brighter. "I'm glad I met you today, Jimin."

"Me too."

sorry for taking long to respond to your requests. i’ve been studying for my final exams and stuff.

i’m sorry if this isn’t as good as my other work. i took a mini break from writing at some point so yeaaaaa :/

part of quote game , submit request here

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audreydoeskaren · 4 years ago

Text

History of Chinese standing collars (part 3: post republican era)

Quick recap: I was debating with myself whether “Mandarin collar” should be a thing because standing collars throughout Chinese history looked different. I went through the Ming and Qing dynasties in part 1 and the republican era in part 2, now I’ll look at what comes after that. I numbered the styles in parts 1 and 2 but they’re only guidelines so you don’t have to remember anything.

So in this post we’ve kind of reached the end of the era where fashion consisted of a single silhouette in any given year and all hell ran loose. I’m having a lot of difficulties classifying things as Chinese or Western because the distinction is really blurred, and I also ran into problems explaining why certain historical European things looked so similar to Chinese ones so there will also be a lot of confusion.

1950s & 60s Chinese application

Summary of 1950s fashion, mainland and others.

Because of the communist victory in the Civil War, fashion in the mainland was different to other (capitalist) areas populated by the Chinese diaspora such as Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan etc.. Let’s look at capitalist area fashion first; I’ll be referring to Hong Kong because Hong Kong was the center of cheongsam making at the time.

Collars on 50s Hong Kong cheongsam grew taller on the basis of collar style 10 but retained the rounded, tapering edge, resulting in a v shape gap down the middle that weirdly recalls collar style 6 from part 1 and part 2. It’s basically completely identical to collar style 6 but stiffened and extremely form fitting. It’s usually closed with one pankou at the base but because of westernization, 50s cheongsam often had no visible pankou----everything is closed with snap buttons, zippers or hooks and eyes/bars. An important aspect of collars of 50s and 60s Hong Kong cheongsam is that they left out the binding around the neck. All cheongsam prior to this point were bound around the exterior edge, the side closure, the slits and the collar seam (on the bodice not the collar), 50s cheongsam collars purposefully neglected the binding at the collar seam for some reasons. This makes the collar look like it’s one continuous piece of fabric with the bodice, which it isn’t. A lot of modern representation of cheongsam or any Chinese inspired clothing (in video games, books and anime etc.) do this, even if the character is from before the 1950s. It REALLY bugs me. If you are an artist or writer and designing costumes for Chinese characters prior to the 50s, please include binding/trimmings on all three seams, it’s an easy way to bump up historical accuracy. With that said, completely plain collars without any binding or trim was actually the most common. Let’s call this collar style 13.

Source here

1954 photograph of Li Lihua and Clark Gable. Collar style 13 with stiffening and no collar seam binding. You can see how firm and neck hugging the collar is, contrary to a lot of modern cheongsam collars which are saggy and loose.

The popularity of collar style 13 continued into the 60s. When the cheongsam fell out of popularity, it ceased to exist as well.

Source here

60s cheongsam with collar style 13. I’m really not a fan of the nude/light lipstick trend of the 60s, like, as a person with no lip color definition it makes me look like a potato.

Now moving on to mainland collars. In the 1950s, cheongsam with the 40s collar style 12 were still occasionally seen, but the fashionable collar shape also became taller and was similar to the Hong Kong collar style 13. Interestingly, some 50s mainland cheongsam retained the binding around the collar seam, making them look more “traditional” in a sense. However, collars both with and without collar seam binding existed and it was just a matter of personal preference.

Source here

1950s photograph of a mainland lady in cheongsam. The collar is taller and closes with one button, much like Hong Kong collars of the era, but the neck binding is present.

Aoku robe collars from the 1940s onward mostly had the 40s style low collar, although in the 50s and 60s they rose in height very slightly.

Source here

1964 poster showing a girl in aoku, the robe has a low, rounded collar.

However, garments with a standing collar became worn a lot less frequently in the 50s and 60s in both mainland and non-mainland areas, since a lot of people adopted Western fashion.

Source here

1950s photograph of a group of mainland people wearing jackets of Western construction. Some of them seem to be wearing informal military jackets, commonly known as “Mao suit” or “Zhongshan suit” nowadays, with folded collars.

Source here

1950s photograph of some women in Malaysia, some in cheongsam and some in Western New Look dresses.

Western application

I think it’s also quite important to discuss how Chinese standing collars were perceived by Western designers, because the Western fashion industry does hold a lot more power globally and also reverse influenced Chinese collar designs in the post 1960s era. So, in the 1950s and 60s Western designers thought cheongsam was really cool and produced a lot of affordable sewing patterns for their versions of cheongsam. I think this is also because pre-1950s cheongsam didn’t use the Western construction method and patterns needed to be individually drafted so it was difficult to make mass produced sewing patterns. From all the sewing patterns I have seen personally, the super tall standing collar popular in Hong Kong was not really appreciated by Western designers at all?? Western cheongsam sewing patterns all had the very low 1940s style collar, combined with an hourglass silhouette New Look bodice and skirt, looking rather anachronistic. These collars also didn’t have binding/trim around the collar seam, in line with fashionable Hong Kong cheongsam of the day.

Source here

1950s Advance sewing pattern for cheongsam. The collar is low and has rectangular edges, something about a decade out of fashion in Hong Kong and Shanghai. No collar seam binding.

Source here

1950s Simplicity sewing pattern for cheongsam. Likewise with super low 1940s collars. Collarless cheongsam died in China in the mid 1920s, yet it lives on in the imagination of Western designers. By the way, the frog closures with a quatrefoil shape are not Chinese, I’m gonna write another post about this. I love the look in the middle it’s very glam.

1970s and later

The post 1960s era is what ultimately created the confusion around standing collars nowadays. Around this time Western and Chinese fashions started to merge and become one, and garments made completely in the historical Chinese method were more and more difficult to come by; Western construction techniques reigned supreme.

From the 70s onward, most “Chinese collars” had the 40s rounded edge shape but were either medium low or medium height. The lack of collar seam binding persisted into the current day, which is something I kind of lament because without this binding collars easily read as Renaissance doublet... (more on that later)

I usually avoid calling any standing collars from the 1970s onward Chinese/Mandarin because 1) standing collars were never a uniquely Chinese thing to begin with 2) since cheongsam was no longer fashionable among actual Chinese people, designers who made cheongsam pulled all kinds of shenanigans without any historical precedent whatsoever. Also, since clothes with structured/stiffened standing collars stopped being a staple in the average Western person’s wardrobe, white people started calling everything with the most remote hint of a standing collar Chinese to further stir the pot, emboldened by the cultural appropriation craze of the 60s and 70s. Ok that’s very loaded, but it’s true that in the 60s and 70s there was a lot of Western clothing designs that took inspiration from other cultures without permission. Westerners could totally design and wear Chinese style clothing given that the intention is respectful and they know about the garment in question, but a lot of times the accuracy of the designs leaves much to be desired. There was also a lot of Orientalist inspiration in the 10s and 20s but the borrowing back then wasn’t so... literal. When I look at so called cheongsam sewing patterns from the 70s onward, I sometimes seriously have trouble identifying if something is meant to be Chinese, Vietnamese, Japanese, Polynesian or any other region/culture...

I’ll just find pictures of Chinese inspired clothing from the 70s onward with a “Mandarin collar” label and point out their source of inspiration.

Source here

1972 Simplicity sewing pattern for cheongsam. It’s the same Western collar from the 50s and 60s just slightly taller. Oh and the closures used on the two designs in the middle are again likely not pankou. After the 60s, this neck design with a oval shape keyhole cutout became quite common and that persisted to the current day. Don’t know what the purpose of that was, just because you show 5 square centimeters more skin doesn’t mean your cheongsam is sexier?

Source here

The description of this 70s Simplicity pattern says “Mandarin collar” but the source of inspiration is obviously Japanese military/school uniforms, AGAIN. The collar’s height and rectangular edges, combined with the placement of buttons above the waist on the bodice, everything about this reads as Japanese. The frog closures on the left are once again European and not Chinese pankou (sheesh I really need to make this other post). The original designer probably meant for it to be Japanese but the seller mistakenly labelled it a Mandarin collar design.

Source here

70s Teresa Teng (rest in power legend) in a theatrical cheongsam with a similar collar, either a stretched version of the 40s collar or a shrunk version of the 50s/60s one.

Source here

Google search result for “Mandarin collar dress”. Same Western low collar from the 70s. A new problem with modern mass produced cheongsam is that the collar oftentimes doesn’t fit the wearer and appears too baggy. Or maybe it’s not mass production, just that people nowadays are very unaccustomed to wearing tight fitting standing collars so they assume there needs to be some extra space? As someone who wears stiff standing collars on a regular basis I have to say it actually isn’t uncomfortable at all and elongates your neck a lot better. This is what most cheongsam collars nowadays look like, even the self proclaimed “traditional” ones, they literally originated from 1950s/60s Western sewing pattern companies’ interpretation of contemporary Chinese cheongsam collars.

Source here

Baidu search result for “Mandarin collar suit”. This, is, literally, almost a replica Japanese uniform. The seller is also using the tag Zhongshan suit lmao (I’ve explained in my 1950s mainland post what a Zhongshan suit is not supposed to look like), delusion is not a fragrance I guess. Why is it so hard to let Japan be Japan and China be China??

Conclusion & afterthought

Another thing I need to mention is that standing collars are by no means unique to Chinese historical dress; they were also widely used in European historical fashion, long before standing collars became worn with uniforms of “Mandarins” or Chinese officials, which further proves my point that “Mandarin collar” is not a valid term. Also, standing collars in Europe have always been stiffened/structured, whereas Chinese collars only started to become stiffened around the 1890s, possibly due to European influence as well. For example, the 1950s collar with rounded edges and no collar seam binding reads as European Renaissance doublet very easily. To be fair though, a lot of the collar shapes seen in early 20th century Chinese womenswear had been done before in European Renaissance fashion and during that time period in China only the OG Ming Dynasty collar mentioned in part 1 was used sooooooo

Source here

1630-40 English doublet. The collar looks mighty similar to 1930s Chinese women’s ones. I know next to nothing about Renaissance fashion so I’m not sure how it’s constructed, but it proves the point that collars like these were not a uniquely Chinese phenomenon.

Source here

Meanwhile the Mandarins in China. He’s wearing a crossover collar robe underneath a round collar robe, no standing collar here.

Source here

1780s French men’s coat with a standing collar.

Standing collars were also commonly used in Victorian and Edwardian women’s everyday fashion without any connection to China whatsoever.

Source here

1860s fashion plate for a gown with a low standing shirt collar peeking underneath.

Source here

1887 fashion plate from the Journal des Demoiselles. Bustle gowns with standing collars.

Bonus rant

I have come to the actual point of this series of posts, to answer the question: should “Mandarin collar” be a thing? In which case I’m gonna have to go with no. In the three posts I made on the topic I categorized a total of 13 collar styles, each distinct from each other and some being inspired by Western clothing, and showed that the use of the term “Mandarin collar” nowadays is very vague and ambiguous. I don’t understand why people in the fashion industry give my ancestors all the credits for a design feature as basic and common as a standing collar... Maybe it’s a marketing gimmick like how Sternhalma (a German board game) is advertised in the US as “Chinese checkers”?? Or maybe it shows that a lot of fashion designers lack a basic understanding of historical fashion? Either way it makes no sense. I think the concept is also slightly offensive since it simply ignores the diversity of actual historical Chinese standing collar designs, kind of reinforcing the racist stereotype that non-white fashion histories are static and never changing.

If I do have to pick a most traditional/iconic style of Chinese standing collar, I would go with either the original Ming Dynasty soft collar with metal buttons or the 1940s short collar with collar seam binding used on aoku, cheongsam, changshan and magua. In the mainland Chinese countryside, the 1940s style collar was preserved and actually still made today, but in the post-Mao era it became increasingly seen by the mainland population as 土 (a derogatory term for Chinese folk stuff meaning tacky or cringy) compared to the exciting new Western fashions being imported at the time. As a result, more traditional items of clothing like aoku for women, changshan and magua for men were neglected in favor of more westernized cheongsam designs, leading to some cursed contraptions.

Maybe this is a hot take, I personally really don’t vibe with the concept of 土 because it’s very loaded and usually the gateway drug to massive internalized racism. I’ve heard so many people bash aoku and magua constructed in the historical method and put post-60s Western inspired cheongsam on a pedestal even though the former is grounded in history and the latter is an Orientalist mess. There is nothing wrong with making aoqun, aoku, magua, changshan, cheongsam or any other historical item of clothing in the historically accurate method, they’re charming in their own ways and don’t need to be “modified”. In my opinion, the puckering under the armpits caused by the lack of a shoulder seam and the rounded shoulders are what makes historical Chinese clothing beautiful to begin with :3 I think there’s something inherently modern and authentic in the pedantic, antiquarian pursuit of historical clothing, like you know how whenever a revival happens it actually brings something new to the table? It’s not problematic to wear modern cheongsam designs per se, it’s just important to keep in mind that it doesn’t have much to do with actual Chinese history and represents more of the status quo of Chinese fashion nowadays.

Ok I’m going off the collar track but it’s time to finish this post. Thank you for reading, and as I mentioned, the next post will be about Chinese pankou. I’m almost finished with that one as well and I’m really excited with what I have planned next :D

#historic fashion #chinese fashion #cheongsam #vintage fashion #chinese history #1950s #1960s #1970s

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dailydemonspotlight · 5 months ago

Text

Dormarth - Day 105

Race: Beast

Alignment: Dark-Neutral

September 6th, 2024

Many mythological dogs fall into a set of strangely similar tropes, even beyond just the idea of them having multiple heads, as observed in the Orthrus analysis. One that I find particularly interesting, though, has to be in their common connections to death. Likely stemming from how dogs were, and still are, seen as intrinsically connected to hunting, many dogs in mythology are connected to death, the spiritual realm, and many such things. We've already seen this with the Inugami analysis earlier this week, but another curious example, and a personal favorite of mine, has to be in the Celtic Wild Hunt's goodest boy, Dormarth.

While the Wild Hunt is a demon itself in SMT, its intrinsic connection to death and the afterlife makes it a very curious topic in connection to Dormarth, also known as Dormarch, a hunting hound that joins in during said hunt. Originating in Wales, Dormarth is a beast that accompanies the riders during the Welsh version of the Wild Hunt. The Wild Hunt itself is a common motif throughout many different European mythologies and cultures, with many cultures offering their own spins on the general concept. This, naturally, leads to differing figures throughout the recurring motif, and the Welsh version has its own fair share of unique ideas, with one of them being the collection of souls of warriors to join in on the hunt, and who else does that collection than Dormarth?

The games' recollections of Dormarth are somewhat inaccurate, from what I can tell- for the most part, they paint the dog as being a guardian of the Celtic version of hell, but most actual historical references of Dormarth seem to split that between many other concepts regarding death and the afterlife. In fact, we don't really know much about Dormarth, given that the dog only appears in one passage throughout old Welsh literature, being in The Black Book of Carmarthen. The name Dormarth is also rather controversial, as the original text is somewhat fragmented, missing a letter in the name that could be either Dormarch or Dormarth, both of which carrying wholly different meanings. To quote the only reference we actually have of Dormarth,

My hound is sleek and fair, The best of hounds; Dormach he is, who was with Maelgwn. Dormach rednose – why stare you so? Because I cannot comprehend Your wanderings in the firmament.

A lot of controversy has surrounded Dormarth for years, but that's beside the point. Dormarth, as a name, seems to roughly translate to mean an 'embodiment of death,' giving light to the idea of Dormarth being just that. Combine that with Dormarth's connection to the dead due to being in the Wild Hunt, a hunt made up entirely of spirits, and one can easily draw a connection between it and Cerberus or other such guard dogs of the underworld. On top of this, though, its connection to death may also be it guiding lost souls to the underworld, or even collecting dead warriors to join in on the Wild Hunt. Language is fun like that, no?

Given that its natural habitat is described as being 'among the clouds,' being associated with the Wild Hunt, it's commonly believed that Dormarth accompanies the Wild Hunt, and observations in the Black Book of Carmarthen by one John Gwenogvryn Evans in 1906 seem to also give a physical description of the hound as being a two-legged dog with swirling fish tails behind it. Its overall role is rather unclear, as I've gone over in extensive detail, but Dormarth does seem to play a rather interesting role in the Wild Hunt overall, whether it be a guardian of the gates of Annwn (the Welsh underworld) or a hunting dog that accompanies the Wild Hunt, to even one that collects new hunters for it. With all of that, though, how's it portrayed in SMT?

I love Dormarth's design, but given everything related to the dog, it's really hard to see where a lot of the elements came from. Like, come on, where's the fish tail? Where are the only two front legs? Why is she bipedal, and why is she a girl? As strange as it is for a Dormarth design, though, I do like how it looks. She is incredibly gender, and I like the spike collar- it plays well into the whole themes of death- and helmet, which ties her (though vaguely) to the Wild Hunt. Overall, a pretty good design, though not one I quite understand for the hound of the hunt.

#smt #shin megami tensei #megaten #persona #daily #dormarth #dormarch

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bwbatta · 4 years ago

Text

four - believable

Abstract: Draco and you are just friends so doing him a favour and pretending to be his girlfriend wouldn’t effect your friendship right?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Warnings: this is super fluffy beware

Word count: 3944

A/N: well, I’m back and BOY do I have a good one for you! Christmasy vibes are at 100% as I’m struggling to believe Christmas has actually been and gone, hopefully this will fulfil your Christmas Draco cravings!

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 3

If you thought people gossiped too much about the rumour of Draco and you being in a relationship before it was even confirmed, the gossip that was instigated from your kiss in the middle of the Great Hall was on another level.

No one said it to your face but everyone thought the chemistry between the two of you surely couldn’t have been faked.

Little did they know though, right?!

Whispers died down after a couple weeks of seeing the two of you walk around holding hands or with Draco’s arm over your shoulder pulling you close in his grip.

In fact the two of you touching in some way became such a constant that it almost felt odd when his hand wasn’t resting on your leg while you were together.

The one thing that wasn’t so weird to come from the game you two had going on, was how Pansy had dialled down her desperate attempts to seduce the blonde Malfoy heir.

Sure she still tried when you weren’t around, but it was a lot less than before and all her attempts were rebuffed and ignored by Draco.

After about a month, her attempts had dwindled and come to a halt.

Not that the two of you noticed that much.

You both had to admit, you enjoyed how things were with each other right now, not that you’d tell the other.

“Hey Sweetheart”

Broken out of your thoughts you looked up to see the familiar blonde approaching you with a grin on his face.

The two of you saw each other earlier that day for breakfast and then later for Potions, but since you both chose different courses, you didn’t have the time to cross paths again until later that evening.

You had been flicking through an astronomy textbook, attempting to finally finish your essay in the Library. Christmas was fast approaching which meant so were final deadlines for the term. Mostly you were fine with the workload you had, thanks to a specific muggleborn Gryffindor who had kept you on track, yet astronomy was kicking your arse.

As hard as you tried, you couldn’t tell your constellations apart from your galaxies.

“Hi” you sighed in reply causing the boy to frown

“That doesn’t sound very happy”

“That’s because this Astronomy essay is making me want to knock myself out with a telescope” you rested your head on your arms dejectedly. “It would be less painful.”

Draco didn’t stop the snort escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes at your dramatics and grabbed your excuse of an essay. With a snicker he shot you an amused look at the last line you’d written on the parchment, aka when you’d really given up all hope.

“’The Sirius constellation looks like a dog but you can’t really tell which breed’?! You’re honestly going to give this in?!” he laughed

“You can’t tell though!”

“Well first, Sirius is a star not a constellation and second the constellation it’s in is obviously a terrier.”

“How helpful”

His grey eyes shot you an amused look before gathering up your books and papers and put them away in your bag. Grabbing your hand he pulled you up and out of the Library which you groaned at, complaining you needed to finish your essay.

“I know” he just responded, pulling you close to him by your hands before detaching them and dropping his arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your forehead in the process as he saw a gaggle of Ravenclaws pass you on their way to the Library. “Let’s grab some dinner and then I’ll help you with your essay.”

The kitchens weren’t as busy as usual as dinner was already happening, but still busy enough to have three house elves approach the two of you asking what they could get you.

“Two plates of roast beef, one with extra roast potatoes, the other with extra yorkshire puddings.”

Immediately your stomach growled at the thought of the food to your embarrassment. You really hadn’t realised how hungry you’d gotten.

Almost in no time at all, two steaming hot plates of food were given to you and the two of you made your way to the astronomy tower, taking a seat on the floor so you could take in the view of the setting sun.

“Why are we here? I thought we’d go back to the Library or common room to finish the essay?”

“How else am I gonna teach you the constellations if you can’t see them?!”

You were taken aback a little.

“You’re teaching me by pointing them out? How do you know astronomy?”

“The entirety of my family are named after stars and constellations on my mother’s side. It was something I just knew growing up because she taught me from when I was young.”

“So there’s a star called Draco?”

“A constellation actually” he mused, “it’s suppose to look like a dragon.”

“Suppose to?”

“Looks more like a snake if I’m honest”

The subject changed over dinner to other things you’d each thought of or heard throughout the day, when you hadn’t seen each other. Apparently the head boy and head girl had been caught by McGonagall in a broom closet getting frisky.

There had also been a fight which had broken out in the Herbology greenhouses which resulted in a mandrake pot being shattered and everyone fainting because of the screams from the young plant.

The real highlight of the day however, was the rumour of the Ancient Runes professor showing an interest in one of the sixth year Hufflepuffs.

“Contrary to popular belief, those Hufflepuffs aren’t as innocent as everyone might be led to believe” Draco snickered as you slapped his arm jokingly.

“I can’t believe a professor here would do that thought!”

“We’ve had worse teachers, lets be honest” he laughed. “Lets recall our last five years shall we?!”

“First one was killed by Harry after having You-Know-Who on the back of his head, the second was a complete moron and obliviated himself- one was a werewolf! Then lets not forget the disguised death eater and then finally this year we’ve been delighted to have the pink toad as a teacher.”

“I feel like we’ve really lucked out if I’m honest” Draco snorted as you snickered at the humoured sarcasm you shared.

A cold breeze shifted through the open tower when the sun finally set, causing you to shiver involuntarily. Deciding to only wear a thin jumper, forgoing your robes whilst you studied earlier may not have been the smartest idea once the two of you decided to eat at that destination.

Draco noticed and immediately leaned back against the wall, holding his arms out to you.

“Come here”

With a shuffle, you were under his arm, pressed against him as you settled into his side, his body heat being a welcoming factor.

“Merlin, you’re freezing” he frowned pulling you closer before conjuring up an emerald green blanket.

“Winter doesn’t really agree with me,” you joked “now tell me about these bloody constellations.”

“Well you’ve got the northern constellations and the southern ones. The northern include some such as Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Lyra and Pegasus. The southern have ones like Ara, Orion, and Canis’ Major and Minor.”

“Which one is Draco in?”

“Northern” he grinned down at you as you reciprocated his smile. “You then also have the zodiac constellations which are the 12 most commonly known ones.”

“Like Sagittarius, Aquarius and all that?”

“Yep. Within all those constellations, you’ve then got your stars.”

The blonde boy explained the basics of the stars to you almost effortlessly as your gaze flicked back and forth from him to the sky, when he pointed out which section he was talking about.

He talked non stop about the stars and you couldn’t help but admire the Slytherin as he spoke of the subject. Draco wasn’t arrogantly top of the class like Hermione was, but he was in no way lacking in knowledge when it came to subjects he knew about like it was second nature.

Time passed you both by like the cool breeze that surrounded you, and before you knew it, hours had passed just being in each others company as he easily gave you enough clarity to finish off your essay, without even having to resort to drastic measures.

You also learnt so much more than any astronomy professor had taught you in all your years at Hogwarts.

Maybe that was just because they weren’t as captivating as the blonde beside you.

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but you knew exactly what your favourite constellation was after that evening, and it just so happened to look like a dragon.

Christmas drew closer and Draco was adamant on sticking to his side of the deal, so with a sigh he set off to Hogsmeade in search of the extensive list of Christmas gifts he had promised to get you.

He had to appear like the perfect boyfriend after all.

Something was nagging at him though and it was constantly circling his mind as he trudged down in the frost to the village.

It had been that evening when the two of you were in the astronomy tower and he was teaching you about the stars, when it had happened.

In the midst of his talking, he pointed out the Orion constellation before glancing down at you and pausing a second to catch his breath, not because he was chatting too much, but because in the vivid light of the moon, you were ethereal.

He had whole heartedly planned to carry on talking, but the sight of you, curled up against him, with the moonlight highlighting your features, his breath was stolen from him.

Almost in a trance he brushed the back of his fingers against your cheekbone causing you to snap your gaze to him, eyes wide at the delicate gesture.

Your wide eyes shocked him out of his state and immediately he paused awkwardly, racking his brain for some kind of excuse.

“Um... eyelash” he murmured, grey eyes not breaking from your own.

“...thanks.”

His mind was screaming at him to just carry on talking, yet no words came out of his mouth.

Instead, almost like his body had a mind of it’s own, his fingers continued to move to brush away the lock of hair which had fallen out of it’s place.

Finally gaining control of his actions again, he dropped his hand and pulled you closer to him, effectively breaking your line of sight. Draco began to talk about Orion again but his mind wasn’t 100% paying attention to the facts that came out his mouth.

What the hell was that?

Shaking those questions from his head, he pressed his lips to your temple and continued his rambling about stars.

It had been quick, fleeting, but Draco hadn’t missed it and he really hoped you had. The affection which was suppose to be scripted for everyone else’s belief had reared it’s head like it was second nature to the pair.

You hadn’t said anything or brought it up so Draco definitely wasn’t going to.

He agreed with himself it was probably best left unspoken about. It was a slip up, something which felt right to do at the time but it wouldn’t happen again.

Attempting to convince himself, he muttered about how you probably didn’t even notice. It was nothing.

After all, whatever was happening affectionately between the two of you wasn’t real.

In short, you’d noticed.

Draco showing you affection was nothing new, yet Draco showing it when no one else was around, okay, that was new.

The kiss he left on your temple could of course be in a friendly manner, right? The brush against your cheek? The way he looked at you?

Friends are affectionate to each other, it was probably nothing more than a friendly endearment. Like a hug.

So why did it feel like there was so much more unsaid?

With a groan of annoyance, you shut it from your mind. There was no use in overthinking something as small as a simple affection. You were smarter than that.

The truth was, the two of you were so hellbent on making everyone around you believe you were in a relationship, you failed to noticed how neither of you denied how believable it was to each other.

Your stomach grumbled loudly, catching the attention of the witch opposite you who eyed you with annoyance.

“Are you just going to sit there, starve yourself and annoy me, or are you going to get some food and leave so I can work in peace?”

“Merlin, Hermione, it’s almost like you don’t want me around.”

“I don’t when you’re distracting me”

“Charming as ever, I see”

With a huff, the bookworm turned her attention back to her books.

Completely bored with your homework, you fidgeted with your quill between your fingers.

“Hey, Hermione? Are you going home for Christmas?”

“You couldn’t ask me this later?” she sighed as she paused in her writing and shot you an irritated look. At the shake of your head, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, My family and I are planning on going skiing again. Are you heading back?”

“Not this year, my parents are off visiting my cousins in America so I said I’d stay at Hogwarts.”

“You’re staying here for Christmas?”

A new voice entered your conversation from behind you and at the look of Hermione’s scowl, you knew immediately it was your blonde boyfriend.

Turning in your seat, you greeted him with a smile. Pecking a kiss to your lips, more for Hermione’s purpose than your own, he took the seat next to you, placing his own stack of books on the table next to you.

“Yeah, like I said, parents are going to America, it’s just easier if I stay.”

“Not many others are planning on staying though, not even the Weasleys” Draco frowned.

You shrugged at his insinuation, knowing exactly what he was getting at.

“I’ll be fine, might actually get some peace and quiet to be honest.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“I’ll write to my parents and tell them I’m staying for Christmas”

“Draco-”

“Nope, I’m not going to let you spend Christmas alone,” he was adamant, “Can I borrow a piece of parchment, I’ll write to them now.”

“Go ahead, I’m not using it” you replied which earned you an exasperated look from the Gryffindor opposite you, which you ignored.

Hermione took the time to observe the two of you and how effortlessly you interacted around each other. It was like a cleverly choreographed piece.

You looked down at your work, Draco looked up at you. Draco looked down at the letter he was now writing, you looked up at Draco. You rested your hand on his arm when you were talking, he leans into your touch.

The Granger witch couldn’t help but almost admire the chemistry between the two of you and how easy it seemed it was to be with the other. Sure, she had doubts at the very start when you’d just begun dating, yet getting a front row seat to seeing the two of you bounce off each other, Hermione Granger believed wholeheartedly the two of you loved each other.

Even if you didn’t know it yourselves yet.

Draco had followed through with his promise and as it seemed every other student had journeyed down to the train a couple days ago. The two of you were sat happily in the Astronomy tower, basking in the silence of the castle and embracing how relaxing it was.

Since the first time the two of you had sat around the tower before, it seemed like this was the place you both chose to come every time when it was just the two of you.

Neither of you had brought up the small affection from the previous time, but acting like it didn’t happen seemed like it was working for the two of you.

“What’s the best Christmas gift you’ve ever gotten?” Draco asked you after a few moments of silence.

You had to think for a moment before a grin rapidly grew across your face at the exact present you knew you loved.

“Snitch socks,” you chuckled “I was given a pair by my grandma when I was like 10 or something and they were the fluffiest, comfiest pair of socks I ever owned where there was a little charm with made the snitches fly around the design. They must’ve cost a knut or something as they fell apart after I only wore them for a few days! Young me was so heartbroken about her socks, she cried for three days!”

“You cried over socks?!”

“The best socks! I don’t think I’ve even known real joy since”

Draco snorted out a laugh into your hair as he wrapped an arm round your shoulders.

“That’s so stupid”

“Don’t be such a jerk, I was 10” you scowled at him playfully “besides, my grandma passed away a couple years later and I have no idea where she got them, so I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Would you still wear them now if you got another pair?”

“Oh 100%, but either way, like I said, I’ve made my peace with it.” You shrugged nonchalantly before turning to the boy next to you, “go on then, what’s been your favourite Christmas present ever?!”

“A pocket watch” he grinned reaching into his pocket and pulling one out, passing it over to you to look at. “It’s a Black family heirloom - my Mother’s side of the family, and it’s suppose to keep you on time for everything. It used to belong to one of my great uncles or someone but I’ve never been late to anything when I have this on me.”

“Really?” you asked sceptically

“Really”

“What about that time you were late to potions?!”

“Left it in my dorm accidentally. Actually that whole day was kind of a disaster. Bloody Pansy and her love potion.”

You snorted as you admired the watch and flipped it over in your palm to examine the back. Cursive words were engraved in the back in another language- probably latin, which had something to do with keeping the owner on time, all the time.

It was silver and about the size of a large golf ball in diameter, yet surprisingly light as you played with it between your fingers.

“It’s pretty”

Draco hummed in agreement as he watched you trace the intricate details with your fingers before smiling and handing it back to him. With a fond look at the watch, then you, he slipped it back into his pocket.

“I just pray I don’t lose it, wouldn’t hear the end of it from my Mother”

“For good reason probably” you snorted, “if it’s a family heirloom it probably means a lot to her.”

Draco hummed once again and pinned his warm gaze on you. He wouldn’t say it out loud but he rarely let the things that meant a lot to him out of his sight.

“God rest ye merry hippogriffs-”

“I’m begging you to stop”

“-ye are A BIRD OF PREY!”

“Y/N-”

“We come in all our splendour, to lead ye ast--”

A hand covered your mouth as you laughed heavily at Draco’s attempt to quieten your singing. You had purposefully tried to make it the worst edition of the Christmas carol possible to annoy the blonde that Christmas morning, yet you hadn’t planned on being tackled into the Slytherin sofa as an attempt to be shut up.

“Did you just lick my hand?!”

You shook your head innocently, not fooling Draco for a second.

The two of you had gathered in the Slytherin common room, as most of the house had gone back for the holiday.

Only a couple of students remained, but after the wizard had glared at the couple of second years, they scattered somewhere else for the time being.

“Okay, presents!”

You almost dived under the tree as you caught sight of a carefully wrapped gift with your name on it. However, finding the label attached to a rather large bundle of Honeydukes chocolates, the smile you shot Draco was almost blinding.

“You did get me the chocolates!!”

“I promised, didn’t it?!”

Draco watched you with a fond grin as you rifled through the basket picking out a couple of chocolate frogs and chucked one to him. He caught the small packet quickly, thanking his seeker reflexes as he did, and looked at you questioningly.

“What, you didn’t think I’d be able to get through all these myself?! Plus I know chocolate frogs are your favourite.”

Draco felt his smile grow wider.

“I got something for you too” you matched his smile

“You did?”

“Of course!”

Pulling out a long rectangular box from under the tree, he kneeled down next to you as he pushed it along the floor so it wasn’t obstructed by anything.With a wary look towards you, he paused slightly.

“It’s not anything that will bite, right?”

“Oh shut up, of course not, now open it!”

With a roll of his eyes, the Malfoy ripped off the wrapping paper and pried open the cardboard box to see the broom he had been envying Harry Potter over for the last year.

“You got me a Firebolt?!”

“Couldn’t have you whining about Harry’s broom any longer, could I?!”

“Merlin, Y/N! This is fantastic, thank you!” He grinned at you before his eyes snapped to the tree and back. “There’s some other things for you still under the tree.”

It was your turn to pin him with a questioning look, eyebrows pulled together in a frown.

Turning back to the tree, you pulled up a few branches and spotted another large box at the back. With great effort, to which the Malfoy just found great entertainment in, you managed to retrieve the box. Pulling open the top flap, the boots and jacket he had also promised you, sat inside.

With a laugh you pulled the boots out first and then the jacket, before spotting a smaller bundle at the bottom. Reaching in, your fingers came in contact with something soft which you pulled out, only to gasp at what it was.

A pair of fluffy green socks sat in your hand as golden snitches whizzed round the design. Not being able to find your words, you looked up at Draco with the softest look you were sure you’d ever looked at him with.

“Draco... you got me snitch socks?!”

“I may have mentioned about the socks to my Mother and she just so happened to know where they were sold. I picked the green ones because I couldn’t have you wearing red ones now, could I?”

“Merlin, they’re perfect! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Pretty much launching yourself at him, you pulled Draco into a warm hug, arms around his neck, as he instinctively wrapped his own arms around your waist in return.

“You are the best boyfriend ever, oh Merlin!”

“If I knew it was this easy to please you, I would’ve bought you them ages ago” he snickered.

You pulled away, only to move to put the socks on as you chatted non stop about how great they were, and in turn, how great he was. Seeing your entire face light up because of a pair of socks made Draco smile even more.

Again, he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but seeing that smile on your face, which he had 100% been responsible for, made his entire Christmas so much better.

#Draco Malfoy #dating Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy series #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy Headcanon #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #Harry Potter #harry potter series #harry potter headcanon #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader

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