#the absolute worst is when it's account locked and you need to create an account | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dairy-farmer · 2 years

Note

Cannot stop thinking abt that earth 3 Tim scenario. Somehow got it into my head this idea of Thomas being creepily *enamoured* with Tim. Like, he’s a terrible, amoral, sadistic bastard, and he sees Tim and he just wants to wrap him up in blankets and make love to him and have him call him daddy and depend on him for everything. Like, this fucked up attachment based partially on the fact that he doesn’t really have anything in his life to be affectionate or soft or caring towards, so he vents all of these feelings on a terrified teenager he kidnapped.

He’s just.....incredibly delusional. There’s nothing scarier than the worst monster you know suddenly being *nice*. It’s like the uncanny valley taken to the extreme.

I think Thomas kind of extends his delusions over time, his own god complex and title as lord of the owls leading him to believe that this is fate, that Tim was a gift made for him to possess, his precious baby bird. Anytime Tim rejects him or tries to escape or just breaks down and *sobs*, it’s just a bump in the road, like talon while he was still dick, undergoing his training.

It’s entirely eerie, how he isn’t even angry with Tim, he’ll just *smile*, and slip a needle gently in his neck, and when Tim wakes up he’s in a soft, dark room chained on each of his wrists and ankles to the wall.

So he can’t hurt himself, owlman tells him, with a soft, affectionate expression that’s infinitely more terrifying than the prospect of being tortured. To Thomas, he’s a troubled boy who’s been corrupted by outside forces. It’s not his fault, that he can’t just accept being loved, and allow himself to adore Thomas in return.

Esp with talon......Tim is of course being used as a reward for when talon does well. If talon does well, he gets to spend some *supervised* time with Timmy, and if he fails....well, the usual torture, and Thomas gets to have Tim all to himself like usual.

Tim doesn’t really mind talon, even maybe likes him a little, because he’s desperate to believe that beneath the creepy pale skin and yellow eyes, he’s just dick Grayson, as scared and alone as Tim is. Talon has no real sense of consent, yes, but he’s always gentle, desperate to account for Tim’s perceived needs and more obsessively loving than *forceful*.

I’m thinking of Thomas finally allowing talon to have sex with Tim, and him coaching him through it, ordering him where to place his hands, how to kiss him, reminding him to be gentle like he would need to be reminded. Like talon is just a puppet that Thomas is using to fuck Tim.

The worst part is, Thomas, as delusional as it is, views talon’s interactions with Tim as a necessary and unfortunate sacrifice. Leaving his sweet Tim to interact with that cold, unfeeling creature he’s created— the whole time, he has Tim’s head in his lap, is stroking his hair, comforting him, that daddy’s here, he won’t let talon hurt him, just close his eyes— when that’s exactly what Tim is trying to forget.

In Thomas’s eyes, when it’s all over, and he takes Tim away to his soft, securely locked room, he’s rescuing him. Tim’s wet eyes are from fear of talon, and his tight grip is a desperate plea for comfort for his savior and protector, not just an attempt to avoid being dropped onto his atrophied limbs.

Shakily, Tim dares to ask when he will see talon next, as Thomas gently rubs his ankles and locks the padded-cuffs in place.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he assures him, “he’s on a mission for the next month. It’ll just be you and me, Timmy and Daddy.”

When Tim’s throat chokes up in terror, Thomas gently rubs his back and mistakes it for relief.

!!!!!!!!! I love this so much!!!!! it's written so well, just the way that you can feel this tension and suspense in how thomas is absolutely misunderstanding (either purposefully or because he's just THAT delusional) tim's actions!

thomas is like the emotional reliance and dependence that bruce has on tim taken to the maximum level. he believes that tim is meant to provide these things to him: his love, his compassion, his body- all are things that tim willingly handed over to bruce but thomas takes them all while under this belief that, in reality, tim wants thomas to have them!!

thomas is so unlike other characters because he's a threat, a threat to tim's body and person but not in a "violent" manner. i mean that in the way that thomas isn't going to smack tim or hurt him like he's expecting. thomas's approach, while intentional or not, is so deeply psychological and i can definitly see tim trying to fight stockhold syndrome from taking hold. because thomas is gentle with him, caresses him, speaks softly to him and tim knows that's not what he's like normally.

that's not what he's like naturally. tim sees the scars on talon's body, sees the blankness of his stare. when thomas starts carrying tim around with him he sees how people recoil from him. there's fear in their expressions, terror in their bodies. people are petrified of thomas wayne which means tim wil find absolutely no help outside the manor.

he's stuck.

unless someone comes to save him.

tim's never been much a damsal. bruce always taught him, stressed to him that he should do everything in his power to save himself because though bruce will always try- there is always the chance that help will not arrive in time.

tim doesn't pray often. he's not religious. it's hard to be when you've lost as much as he has. but as he lays in thomas's arms, pussy pulsing with a deep ache and hot cum dripping out of him- he hopes someone will come soon.

talon will not return for several weeks.

thomas is nuzzling tim's cheek and making low murmurs about how nice and soft tim is, how sweet he tastes, how his pussy fit around his cock so well-

tim's arms and legs are tied to each poster of the bed, they're wrapped tightly in a spongy material so even if tim gets them out he doesn't have a chance of hurting owlman or himself.

which was probably the plan.

thomas touches tim every moment he can. his hands stroke down tim's sides and tickle his limbs. it sends shivers down tim's spine.

not the good kind.

thomas whispers in tim's ears about how much he adores him, how he can't believe that it took this long for thomas to find him.

as he talks he doesn't blink, he stares at tim with this...this hungry devouring look like he's a second away from leaning down and taking a bite out of tim's cheek.

it....scares tim. it scares tim in a way the joker, scarecrow, or ra's never did.

tim whimpers as thomas gets hard again and immediatly thrusts into tim's damnably wet and stretched pussy. tim closes his eyes and tries to imagine talon, his sweet dick that he could still tell was tucked deep inside, hidden away to protect the last bit of goodness there was in him.

he fucked tim so gently, stopping to check on him and careful. this dick didn't know how to show love, tender care, or affection through hugs or kisses. fucking was the only way he knew to comfort himself or to make himself feel good, and he'd wanted to make tim feel good even though tim couldn't help but feel guilty.

talon basically had the mind of a child with how undeveloped he was. it's why he clung to tim's gentle touch, warm hands, and soft voice. tim is the softest thing he's had in years.

but he didn't understand what he was doing. not really.

thomas, on the other hand. did.

he fully knew what he was doing. he knew tim was a child and he still touched him.

tim tried to weigh it out in his mind when he realized thomas wasn't going to torture him to death. he tried to reason whether this was any better.

tim could feel himself slipping a bit. leaning into the touch of thomas when he was reminded of scared he was.

because tim was terrified. he was all alone, in a different universe, no one had his back, there was a possibility no one was coming for him at all.

and when tim wept, he'd feel a warm hand cupping his cheek. and it was so familiar. big, calloused, gentle.

they felt like bruce's hands and tim's cries would quiet and he'd look up only to be greeted by the sight of a softly smiling thomas wayne jr.

tim hoped his family was looking into his disappearance. he hoped they wouldn't give him "space" after the most recent falling out they'd had. they had to know that even at his angriest tim wouldn't just up and disappear.

he'd promised dick, swore to him that he'd never do that again.

tim felt warmth spill inside him and tried to fight back the twitching and horrible pleasure that went through him as finger roughly pinched his clit.

tim can't even manage the strength to tug on the chains anymore. he lost circulation in his hands and feet months ago. the muscles in his biceps and thighs had long withered away leaving behind trembling, thin limbs.

"oh timmy," thomas groaned, grinding into tim's soft walls, "oh timmy, oh timmy, yes baby-"

tim closed his eyes and imagined that is was dick tenderly fucking him, blood still on the claws of his suit as he softly fucked him and spilled into his womb.

he hoped the baby was his, how he hoped it wasn't thomas's even though the timeline was off. thomas caressed tim's growing belly, a reverent look on his face.

"you look so pretty timmy. baby brucie's not giving you any trouble, right?"

thomas pressed a kiss to tim's trembling mouth and laid down on him, soft cock still inside.

tim breathed through his nose and imagined it was dick on him.

he imaged a wormhole or boom tube opening up beside the bed and bruce coming out to save him.

tim didn't even realize he was whimpering until thomas hushed him again.

"it's okay, timmy. daddy's here, it's okay don't cry."

tim's low whisper's of 'dad, dad, dad, dad' were answered.

but tim just cried harder.

#anonymous #asks #answered asks #earth 3 au

13 notes · View notes

calliecat93 · 3 years

Text

In all seriousness, regardles sof if you like him or hate him, I don’t think there’s any doubt that Ironwood’s character arc and ultimate downfall were one of the best written character pieces int he whole show. I still remember back in Volume2 and 3 where we all were unsure how to feel about him. He had his good moments like complimenting Ruby for her heroics and his utter badasser at the end of Volume 3... but he also essentially stabbed Ozpin in the back and his stubbirness and pride regardign Atlas and military right was storng from the get-go. Then in Volume 4 since they only had him around when Jaques was, who by all accounts was FAR more detestable, Ironwood looked even better... until the very end when he locked down the borders and made it clear that he had learned nothing. For three straight volumes, the writers made sure to keep tipping the scales. There were so many questionable moments with Ironwood that raised plenty of red flags, but he had just enough sympathetic moments like talking to Glynda about feeling like Oz won’t trust him and sympathizing with Yang evenfi he still disqualified Team RWBY to make him likable and make it plausible that he COULD still become better.

Even in Volume 7 it continued. His actions such as causing Mantle to suffer and his growing paranoia again raised a ton of flags and they were growing a lot harder to justify. But at the same time he had a plan that COULD work in place and with his clear trauma and the whole situation being as tough as it is, one could allow some sympathy. When he finally listened, opened up tot he Council and Robyn, and began evacuations for Mantle as well as fighting Watts, it seemed like he FINALLY did it. He finally learned from his mistakes. he’s finally being the hero that he presented him as. He made a Hell lot of mistakes that need reconciling, but he was now ont he right path. Things were finally, FINALLY going right with him...

Until he saw that chess piece.

With that, the house of cards came tumbling down. Ironwood reverted right back to his worst urges, except this time to the point of no return. His plan to raise Atlas was already insane, but how he coldly confirmed that yes, he knew that he was sentencing Mantle to death. It was a horrible, horrible thing even fi one could find the stream of logic to it. But that wasn’t what ultimately sealed his fall. In the end it was when he snapped at, and then show down, Oscar and in turn Ozpin. That moment was him rejecting the only person left who was willing to reason with him. The last stream of his councious. In the end, he decided to succumb to his paranoia and self-delusion that he is right, and shot at a teenaged boy who had done nothing to him except try to help him. That was the point of no return.

All through Volume 8, he hit low after low. Killing Councilman Sleet simply to shut him up. Having Watts infect Penny with the virus, not caring at all about her life. After all to him,s he’s just another robot under his control, why should he? All throughout he is clearly unhinged with no one either able to or too afraid to do anythign against him less they get a bullet to the brain. Then in Chapter 10 he not only has clear murderous intentions for Qrow, but he decides to bomb Mantle to force Penny to surrender herself... and in the very next chapter decides to do it whether she agrees or not. Yes, Ironwood is willing to kill an entire city just to have the vault opened, and hoenstly I think there’s also a lot of petty spiteful reasons as well. Spite against Penny for going against his control. Against the heroes for turning against him for Mantle. Against Mantle for always seeming to be a problem, one that he can now eliminate for good. Then when Marrow decides that he’s had enough and quits, Ironwood is fully prepared to shoot him and it’s only Winter’s quick actions that saves him. Even though Marrow didn’t even tryt o strike Ironwood, the general decided to kill him just for calling him out.

Throught the entire series, CRWBY played a very careful juggling game with Ironwood’s character. They made sure to keep giving Ironwood enough good and bad moments where him going down either path was possible. But they also made sure to keep every questionable moment more and more difficult to justify until byt he end of Volume 7, there were none left. Then in V8 it’s low after low, culminating him everyone who stood by him either dying or turning against him in one form or another. Even Winter, who supported him depsite her own feeligns because of how much the military helped her after escaping Jaques, decided enough was enough and turned on him. The only person that Ironwood trusted at that point left him, and he’s too blinded by his own delusions to understand why. Even at the very end he refuses to acknowledge his wrongs, claiming that everyone else is ungrateful for the length he’s gone. There was no hope left for him at that point. Just to cement it further when Winter gets the Maiden powers, he tries to take credit for it as the original destiny he chose for her. You know... the one where he would have made her kill an elderly woman and didn’t eally give her a true choice in AND still putting down Penny who was more human that he could have ever dreamed if being.

Winter soundly defeats him and leaves him there. And it is only here, where he is on the ground unable to do anything except raise his gun. Here where Cinder emerges with the Relics and hands them to Salem right before Ironwood’s eyes. Here where both women ignore him until the very end, where Cinder declares Checkmate, that Ironwood finally realizes that no, he’s not the hero. He’s the fool who played right into Salem’s hands, just as the heroes tried to tell him. But now? There’s nothing to be done. Atlas is falling. The portals are gone. There is not a soul left int he kingdom who can or would even want to help him. The only thing that Ironwood succeeded in was creating his own grave. He repeatedly failed ot learn from his mistakes. He failed to listen tot hose who genuinely wanted to help him. He failed in being any sort of hero. And while one could blame Salem and Cinder for ultimately pushing him down the dark path for good, his decisions are his own. He has no one to blame for Atlas’ downfall, nor his own, except or himself. All that he can do is lower his gun and lay there in utter despair as everything comes crashing down. Literally. And all that he’ll be remembered as is a tyrant who sacrificed everyone around him with cold aloofness. As a reminder of what a hero should never be.

It was such a brilliantly done arc. Ironwood is detestable, but he is also one of the best written characters in RWBY. They played the long game, moving him step by step in the direction that they wanted, but leaving just enough space to leave us questioning what will happen. And yet, the path is still clear. We saw so many chances where Ironwood could have made a change for the better, but he decided not to. And it was perfectly in-character for him not to. The dark aspects of his personality were there since Day One, we just didn’t see how bad it could truly be until these past two volumes. Love him or hate him, the writing for Ironwood was extremely well done and applause to CRWBY for all of it. It was executed absolutely perfectly.

#rwby #rwby8 #rwby spoilers

165 notes · View notes

pyreo · 3 years

Text

deltarune megapost

I wanted to make a Deltarune post about the lore and the things that aren’t obvious. And once I do that I wanna focus on why Mettaton is incredibly important to this setting

And also why he poses a problem

Why did Toriel and Asgore get divorced?

Without the setting of Undertale, Asgore and Toriel’s marriage still broke up after they had Asriel. There needs to be a reason though. In UT it was Asgore’s ‘worst of both worlds’ decision regarding killing anybody that fell from the human world, including children. We saw how close they were before this happened. Only something deep and serious caused that rift. In Deltarune, what on earth did Asgore do?

What happened to Dess?

Mentioned a handful of times by Noelle, Dess was her older sister and is mentioned In Undertale.... in that Xbox exclusing casino thing. The way Noelle talks about her, the conspicuous way Noelle gets locked out of her big house - it implies Dess is gone or deceased. Berdly recalls a spelling bee when he and Noelle were younger where she, despite being smarter than him, misspelled ‘December’, allowing him to win.

In the two-player spelling puzzle, it also spells out ‘December’ as Noelle recalls the past and her silhouette regresses to a child while she does so. Being distracted by her sister’s disappearance, rather than pure shyness, could account for her misspelling her name on stage, and it clearly left a big psychological mark for her to have this visual regression in the Dark World.

However, there’s a graveyard in Hometown with no Dess. I heard another theory that she has been missing for years, because where each character’s personal room is made by Queen to reflect their tastes via their search results, Noelle has a calendar where every day is December 25th. This could imply that Noelle continually searches the internet for ‘December Holiday’, her sister’s name, to see if there are clues to her disappearance, but of course the only result you would get is the date of Christmas.

Who is the Knight?

It’s now implied to be Kris, who has been forcibly removing the player’s influence to act on their own. By all accounts the Knight is the game’s main antagonist. Spade King and Queen both mention the Knight as someone who influenced their position - they brought Spade King to absolute power, and showed Queen that creation of new worlds was possible.

We’re led to believe that Kris was doing this, because they’ve been acting outside of the player’s control. Eating the entire pie between chapter 1 and 2 might have been a red herring to cover that they also went to the library and used that knife to slash open a dark fountain there.

However. This has issues. How would they even manage to shuffle slowly all the way to the library and get in the computer lab? The Knight is also the one creating the hidden bosses. They talked to Jevil until he realised he was in a game and he lost his mind; they ruined Spamton’s life by elevating him to success and then crushing him. Whatever the Knight is doing seems to be deliberately planned with key players in mind.

Kris opening the fountain at home at the end of ch.2 can be explained in that you just figured out in Cyber World that anyone determined enough can do this, and so, Kris decided to. So a better question might even be...

What does Kris want?

We have no idea. They are capable of removing the SOUL, ‘us’, temporarily, and putting things in motion we cannot influence. But they also keep putting us back in control afterward. This is hinted at right when ch.2 starts, where if you inspect the cage in Kris’s bedroom they threw us into, the description says it’s inescapable. Meaning Kris came back and took us out, willingly.

They allow us to pilot them through the game. Why? Because they cannot live without the SOUL for long for some reason? Because they’re bad at bullet hell? Why did they slash Toriel’s tyres before opening the fountain, making sure nobody could drive away?? Why did they specifically open the door?

You can find out details about Kris through the creepy way you interact with the townsfolk, who think you are Kris. They play the piano at the hospital waiting room - better than you. They used to go to church just to get the special church juice. It’s all normal, relatable things, not like someone who’s trying to plunge the world into darkness. Judging by their search history portrayed in their Queen’s castle room, they really want to see their brother again. However the castle has a room based on Asriel’s search history too, and Kris (not you) closes their eyes and won’t look at it.

What is Ralsei?

His name is an anagram of Asriel. Is he an extension of Asriel? The slightly flirtier dialogue in ch.2 would point to no. Is he an extension of Kris themselves, given the link between Kris’s childhood habit of wearing a headband with red horns on it, to pretend to be a monster like their family?

Ralsei knows exactly where the Dark World in the school is located, and unlike regular Darkners, knows the world is folded up inside the ‘real world’. There’s a certain whiplash to Ralsei telling you to hop out of his reality into yours and go down the hallway to retrieve all the board game items.

How does he jump from one Dark World to another, without assistance? How does he not get petrified like Lancer and Rouxls? Is this a power level thing because he’s a prince or something else? We definitely do not know enough about Ralsei.

He also says this incredibly suspicious thing after you spare Spamton NEO. Susie was also curious but accepts that maybe it ‘didn’t mean anything’, which is a sure tell that these optional bosses do mean something.

Someone is orchestrating what’s happening, opening fountains, manipulating the rulers, and influencing NPCs to become the optional bosses. Why? I suspect Ralsei for both knowing too much, and pretending something doesn’t matter when it clearly does. Until Asriel actually comes home from college I’m going to suspect he’s involved in this too.

How much does Seam know?

Seam on the other hand knows a lot about what’s going on but is openly withholding information while helping you. He’s nihilistic. He says things like:

One day soon... You too, will begin to realize the futility of your actions. Ha ha ha... At that time, feel free to come back here. I'll make you tea... And we can toast... to the end of the world!

Either this ‘end of the world’ is a reference to The Roaring, where opening too many dark fountains dooms the Dark World and the real one... or, I can’t get out of my head the idea that Deltarune takes place in a fake, or weird reconstruction of Undertale where things don’t match up, and eventually it will have to disappear. After all, powers of determination and creating and manipulating universes are Undertale’s basic bread and butter. How can we look at an Alternate Universe containing the characters we already know and not suspect that? Seam also uses Gaster’s key words, ‘darker, yet darker’, seemingly to clue us in that he’s not off track here.

Why haven’t we seen Papyrus?

This is a bright neon flashing ‘something’s not right’ sign. It’s not like Papyrus’s voice actor was too busy or anything. His absence is noticable and for a reason. Nice of Sans to promise we could meet him despite being aware we’re piloting a child’s body around, though, even if he didn’t follow through.

What locations in town could be used for dark fountains in the next 4 chapters?

If the sequence continues, we have chapter 1 in the school games room, chapter 2 in a computer lab, and chapter 3 in front of Kris’s television, where the aesthetic of each setting influences the world, characters, and enemies in the Dark World created there. Future possibilities include the church, the hospital, sans’s grocery store, Noelle’s house, and the closed bunker.

What the hell’s in the closed bunker

This one’s too obvious, honestly. I think it’ll open for no reason in chapter 7 and a little white dog will bounce out and steal one of your key items and nothing else happens.

Why does Asgore have these

Unlike the bunker feeling like a joke teaser, I gotta believe this is foreshadowing something weird. For example, what does opening a dark fountain in here with the seven flowers do? Does it just take you into Undertale?

Each chapter will have a hidden boss with a ‘soul mode’ from Undertale

Chapter 1 let you stay red, but I think each subsequent chapter is going to change your soul mode to one of the seven colours and design the encounter around that. Purple, yellow, green and blue were used in Undertale, leaving the light blue and orange modes yet to be revealed.

How does Spamton emulate Mettaton Neo’s name, body, and incorporate his battle theme, and the ‘Dummy!’ theme, with no actual connection between them ingame?

This is a really fun one that’s explained over in this post here. Swatch is the Dark World creation from the paint program on the library computers, so he’s able to explain that a Lightner made the robot body decaying in the castle basement that way.

Mettaton went to the library and drew his ideal form, Mettaton NEO, in MS Paint, and the Dark World formed that into a puppet body which Spamton was able to hijack temporarily. So by doing that Spamton was able to channel Mettaton’s appearance, attacks, music, and SOUL mode for the fight.

This might mean that the future hidden bosses, each with their own SOUL mode, might be based on the associated character for that mode (Muffet, Undyne, and Sans or Papyrus), and the boss will take on some aspect of them from their world to leech their fight mechanics.

The Problem With Mettaton

We don’t exactly know what Deltarune is about. It’s an alternate universe where the characters from Undertale already live on the surface, have completely normal lives, but diverge from the storyline of Undertale and, crucially, have not lived through the changes Frisk brought to their lives.

Remember how Undertale had a dozen different ending routes depending on who you befriended? The constant reinforcement in Undertale was that your choices mattered. Through Frisk, you chose to bring Alphys closure about her mistakes, you chose to befriend papyrus instead of attacking him, you chose to help Alphys and Undyne realise their feelings for each other and it’s only doing that that leads to the golden ending and escape to the surface.

Deltarune is the opposite, your choices do not matter. The only thing you can do to force the route of the game to change is to force Noelle into a No Mercy run, which is indirect, and also, a total desperation to mess with an otherwise set course. This version of the characters have not been helped by Frisk - Undyne and Alphys are not together, Papyrus has no friends, Asgore cannot get over himself, and they’re clearly the worse for it, but potentially, you COULD still do these things. In fact it’s hinted that you already are.

But there’s Mettaton.

He’s still a ghost and does not leave his house. In Frisk’s world, Gaster deleted himself, promoting Alphys to royal scientist by bluffing with Mettaton, and she then build him his ideal body. In Kris’s world... Alphys is a school teacher. There’s no barrier to break, no reason to experiment on souls, no Flowey mistake, and no body for Mettaton.

It was sad in Ch.1, but now with the Spamton NEO fight in ch.2, it’s unmissable. Mettaton wants that body and he cannot get it. Alphys in this universe is not going to leave her teaching job and suddenly be able to build a robot. Mettaton is just... screwed out of his happy ending and cannot get it.

So what resolution could this have? If it wasn’t for Mettaton I might believe in the vaildity of Deltarune and Hometown. But. How can you doom this character? If Undertale was the only way Mettaton could be befriended, then Undertale is Primary Universe A and Seam is right - the world of Deltarune is doomed as some kind of aberration. It all relies on how this gets explained in the future, but the core mystery of Deltarune is how exactly this universe intersects with Undertale and whether one is an offshoot of the other. How the Dark World links into that is another complication. But even as we get more fun characters and neat stuff in the Dark Worlds, let’s not forget we have absolutely no idea why Undertale’s characters are living here with no mention of underground or why there are no other humans beside Kris.

#undertale #deltarune #welcome to my giant essay post

38 notes · View notes

natsukitakama · 4 years

Text

What kind of Yandere are they? Snk edition Pt 1

Author note : I have no excuse, I just thought about it. This obvisouly won’t be in canon-verse because it was more convenient for me but feel free to adapt this the way you want.

Before we started, let me reminds you those relationships are TOXIC please be careful. No one should treat you the way they did in this headcanon, you’re precious and deserve someone who’ll be able to take care of you properly.

Warning : violence / Mention of stress / Toxic relationship / Smut (kinda explicit but you can skip it if you want to) if you don’t feel confortable wit those kinds of things don’t read, I want you to feel good on my blog this is a happy place.

i do not own those gifs credit to their owners

Edit : Every characters are all aged up for the sake of my mind

Masterlist Part 2 here

Mikasa

She is the most brutal yondere

Remember Yuno Gasai ? Yeah, she learned from the best.

To the outside, she is nothing but sweet. She tended to be kinda shy around everyone. It’s not a surprised she was so popular especially with boys. But she wasn’t interested on anyone.

Until she met you, both of you were assigned on a project : you thought it could be great idea to ask her to come into your house so you could work properly. That’s what your first mistake.

Your second mistake was you let her on her own in your room for a couple of minute (because you were looking for some snacks to here). She obvsiouly snicked around, she looked at your family photo, at your collection, the book you owned, your closet. She even went until going into your bed just to catch some of your perfume. That’s basically how her obsession over you started.

When you went back with some sweets, you found her waiting for you, smiling and it melt your heart : since your first day you had a small crush on her but she didn’t seem to acknowledge it. She always acted like she didn’t care about everything which was true in fact but you didn’t know that.

Then you started to work together and it was fantastic. It was as if you were connected, she was nothing but sweet with you always laughing at your jokes (even the bad one), always trying to help you. You felt overwhelmed by her kindness.

How wrong were you.

Every movements had a purpose, she tried to seduce you. To make you fall in love, so she could protect you properly. Indeed if you were too deeply in love you won’t notice how wrong your relationship was, how toxic she was with you.

What kind of yandere is she ?

BRUTAL : she is strong, she is smart and she isn’t afraid to use her strength against anyone who could be a danger to you. Basically, anyone who used to bully you, look at you the wrong way, talking about you like you were some shit, anyone who’ve ever been mean who would beat the shit out of them. She would never put a finger on you though. She would never use violence against you cause she doesn’t need that. In fact when you realized you were dating a Yandere it’s already too late, you’re too deep into your relationship to ever think about leaving her. She got other way to keep you by his side.

SADISTIC : I said before that she would never put a finger on you, I kinda lie. Of course she would never beat you or hurt you by using her strength, her fist or anything. But also told you she got other way to keep you into your relationship. Two words : Torture and threaten. She won’t be afraid to torture you but threatening you : your family, your pet, your friend, your colleague ; little by little you got used to live knowing there are a sword of Damocles above your relative’s head. If she can’t still be sure you won’t run away from her, she would torture physically. Meaning she’ll kidnapp you and lock you up on a room with no window. She tends to use social’s privation a lot cause everytime she finally frees you, you’re always more kind with her (she takes that as a sign of love while you’re just being afraid of being lock down again).

FRIGHTENING : Kinda be seen as a way to torture you as well, she knows she tends to be kinda dreadful. She isn’t afraid to use her csarry face in order to keep you obedient. Let’s be real, we all see her scary face at least once : who’s gonna have enough balls to threaten her ? Yeah you got it. There no way someone would be brave enough to test her. 99% of the time she just has to send you a death glare and everything is in order.

POSSESSIVE : I mean even Canon!Mikasa is possessive, so imagine with a Yandere behavior. She won’t let anyone put a finger on you, it could be a gentle gesture but still no one can touch you. They don’t deserve your time, your oxygen, you’re far too precious for her. At the beginning of the relationship she struggled when she saw you talking with anyone, the worst was when she could see you enjoying your time. It broke her heart, she was afraid they might steal you away from her. You’re her everything, she couldn’t lose you otherwise what’s the point of being alive ? Everything she would do to you is to protect you.

She is basically the kind of person to keep a part of your body if unfortunately you end up dying. She would probably keep one of your arm so she could still feel your hand on her cheeks, and your head so it was as if you never left her.

When it came to sex, she uses it as a gift or a way to show you how much she craves for you. She tends to be pretty rough in bed with you, but she always make you to give you proper foreplay, she is just too into you (literally), so lost in her own pleasure of being one with you, her beloved. She worships you so much to the point you might start to think you are some kind of god to her. There no inch of your body, she didn’t kiss, caress.

She loves giving you head, just the though of you crying from pleasure just because of her. It never failed to boost her confidence. Believe me when I say she is super focused on your pleasure. With a couple of session, she knows exactly where to bit, where to lick you so you would be a whole mess because of her. She never expects you to give her head but if you ask( hear: beg) she’ll oblige.

Having you on your back waiting for her is a sight she would never forget even when she’ll be dead. For her it’s like a piece of heaven, having you here defenceless knowing you trust her so much. She might come just by this sight.

Your moan is her favorite thing of the world especially when you call her, begging her for release. She isn’t really a Dom in bed more like in control. She needs to be in control otherwise you might hurt yourself. That being said, it doesn’t stop her from slapping your ass while she fucks you : she loves seeing your cheeks being read from her hand, marking you. Well it always turn her on for a second round.

Nonetheless, she doesn’t have a huge sex drive so it doesn’t happen as much as you expect. She prefers some cute gesture such as hug or kiss, they are more meaningful. Sex is more a way to release some tension.

Eren

The manipulator

He likes to pretend he has an innocent crush on you.

It’s everything but innocent but no one can tell

I mean follow you in every social link isn’t very bad ? Kinda awkward but nothing to be afraid of. He takes advange of his glorious build to cross some lines, he knows that you were far too happy to notice his wrong behavior.

He noticed the way you look at him when you thought he wasn’t noticed, he knows you were attracted to him. At first he found it kinda boring, but one day when he decided enough was enough and he should confront you : the way you talked to him trying to find your own words while being a whole mess. He never saw someone as pure as you, you were absolutely so cute ; he felt his heart melted. That’s basically how he became obsessed with you.

They’re nothing healthy with the way he is in « love » with you. He talked to every of your friends trying to get as many information as possible, even use his own friends to pick up every informations he might need. In addition since he followed you, he started to stalk you looking for anything who could be useful. He even went as far as to create fake account to watch your story.

He claims to know everything about you (which is true), basically have you seen You on Netflix ? That’s him. Every time you leave the place, he would check your phone looking into your DM, your history everything to be sure you’re not seeing someone behind his back.

To make it short he is very insecure about your relationship which tends to put you in some dangerous situation where everything could be use against you.

What kind of Yandere is he ?

MANIPULATOR : It’s kinda canon at this point, he is not afraid to use anything against you if it could be useful. He remembers anything you ever said to him from the little complain about your mum being a bit strict to your insecurity. Anything would be use to keep you with him. If he feels that you’re getting distant with him because you’re insecure about your relationship, he would praise you. If a friend of yours told you how unhealthy your relationship was, he would remember you how a shitty friend he used to be so you would leave them instead of him. He’s even better during argument, if you’re aggressive to him he won’t be ashamed to use your insecurity against you so you’ll end up apologize even if he was in fault in the first place.

JEALOUS : As I said before, he tends to be very insecure with your relationship. He knows that his behavior is wrong that he is sick. He can’t help but always stalking you especially in your social link since it’s the only place he can’t control. Fake account, looking into your like’s section, checking into your phone while you’re not looking. May god protect you if he ever finds something suspicious : it always end the same way, you crying over Eren’s body asking, begging him to not leave him. I do not even know how he does that.

VIOLENT : come on ? He is an angry boy, how could you expect him to not be violent ? He isn’t violent against you though, he got other way to got you all obedient for him. No this attitude is for assholes who think they could take you away from him. They should know better, honestly he is not afraid of being nasty against us. In the end, when he’s done with them, no one would be able to recognize them : face crushed, body cutting into piece is it even human ? He got a lot of bloods in his hand and expect you to be thankful for that. He’ll protect you no matter what, he loves you so much to the point he couldn’t even feel anything : when he got hurt he doesn’t feel painful, when he kills someone he is always so calm ; he always got you in his mind.

THREATENING : Despite his gorgeous face, he is kinda scary when he wants to. Especially when he got you against a wall whispering into your ear how unfortunate it would be if your mum or any member of your family got hurt into a car accident. How bad it would be if someone finds out about your dirty nude. How he could end your reputation in some clicks. He barely has to use it, since he tends to use sex against you to break you ; but if someone has decided to be cocky to day well he’ll remind you who is the boss here.

About sex, well I told you before that he has his own way of remind you who you belong to. You see me coming : Sex is a way to him punish you or to love you. Let me explain.

90% of the time, when you two have sex, it’s just a way for him to praise you, to show you how much he loves you. It’s not all vanilla quite contrary, but even when he got you on your four deepening his pace to the point you might have so marks, he always made sure to whisper how much he loves you, how proud he is, what a good S/O you are for taking him so good. At this point you won’t know if you’re blushing because of good he made you feel or because his cute words got you.

But there are times, when you acted like a brat to him so he had to remind you who you belong too. Expect him to be super Dom on you, meaning he would tie you on the bed your hand above your head, your legs spread wild open for him. Him, in front of you looking at you with an upset look. Do not expect to whisper you sweet word : he would dirty talk a lot but in bad way, telling you what a bad S/O, how disappointed he is. Sometimes he would scold you for flirting with another one. Expect a lot of orgasm denial, a lot of tease to the point you would break and start crying, begging for forgiveness. Then he would love you properly, hold you close to his chest whispering how proud he is and how grateful he is. Once you came at least one time, he would always overstimulate you everything to break you honestly. When he’s done with you he will just pumping himself and cum all around your body claiming you as his.

When he is a good mood he would give you head, making you cum at least twice before he decided to start the real fun. When he is angry or disappointed, he would use your mouth as a way to beg for forgiveness, don’t expect him to be gentle. He will grab your hair while deep throating you.

Jean

the stalker

He is probably the most awkward of the three

In fact, he met during groceries : you asked him some help to reach some furniture who were far too up for you to grab it.

The second he met the pretty face who belonged to the angel voice of yours, he falls in love. He wanted to know everything about you, he wanted to own you, why weren’t you his already ? What are you waiting for ?

Since it was kinda late, he insists on walking you home since he couldn’t let a cute little angel like you walking alone on the dangerous street. You find it cheesy but accept anyway since the man was kinda cute himself.

But he was already working on his plan to seduce you, during the walk he tries to memorize as many things as possible especially the walk so he could visits your house. During the walk he asks you a lot of question about you or your class, you find him extremely extrovert which was fine since you tend to be kinda shy with first encounter. Again all he was going as a purpose : to get to know you better.

This day he discovers a lot of things about you who could be useful but the more important thing that he was in the same school as you which mean he could stalk you more.

He is pretty smart and get some charisma, before you could even noticed, he was friends with all of your friend, and presents himself to your family. In a couple of weeks he was already a part of your life before he asks you to become his significant other

So what kind of Yandere is he ?

STALKER : it’s in the title. Not only does he stalk you in social media (even if you follow him) but he also does it in reality. Sometimes while walking to your house, you swore you felt someone behind your back but everytime you tried to check you found nothing behind you. You never ask yourself while you met Jean so many times in a day, always thinking it was fate or anything. It wasn’t he just follows you during the day and when he felt like he needs your attention he just orchestrate an encounter so he could spend time with you. Honestly there nothing he doesn’t already know about you, there so many times he left stalking you, watching you, analyzing you : he knows you like the back of his hand.

MANIPULATOR : He isn’t like Eren, he won’t use information against you directly but won’t be afraid to hurl barb at you if he feels like put you in your place. He’s more the type to be friends with all of your friends, your family to be seen at the awesome boyfriend so you would feel some kind of pressure against you. You couldn’t break up with him, not when everyone around you praise you for finding such an incredible boyfriend like him. Basically if you break up with him anyone would be so disappointed about you and you don’t want that. He knows you care so much about their opinion.

PARANOID : the reason behind his stalking’s habit is fear. He is afraid he might loose somehow. It could be someone kidnapping you, someone hitting on you ; Jean knows if he wasn’t careful he will lose you eventually. So yeah he stalks you when you walk on your own, even during a trip with your friend he is always here to watch you. So he could prevent any risk. Since he’s kinda self-conscious about himself, stalking you is a way to comfort him that you’re planning on leaving him. He tends to be super cautious with you around him, never trust anyone even his own friends. He never let you go looking outside without him close to you, even talk to people like postman (who knows they might be dangerous ?). He has 100% control on every of your activity, you find it cute but sometime it was as if you weren’t free. He even went as far as to lock you in your own room just to be sure you won’t leave while he is away.

Ok So sex with Yandere!Jean ? BOY. He used to enjoy stalking you during your intimate moment, just seeing you in your most pure state ? The first time he didn’t mean to watch you, but he stalked you while you walked on your own during night : he had to be sure no one would bother you during a peaceful night. But then when he was about to leave to his house, he saw your light and the shadow of clothes throwing everywhere. At first, he was afraid you might having sex with someone else than him. So he climbed to the nearest three to watch you properly. In fact you weren’t cheating on him but you were touching yourself. That’s how his night activity began.

So yeah he knows perfectly where to touch you, it almost surprised how good he was. You never expect someone to love you the way he does. It was as if he knows your body by heart. The way he kiss you while his hand is moving around your body, grabbing, slapping everything he could reach.

He wants you to call him daddy no matter if he is angry or happy, this isn’t a roleplay anymore : it’s like his « sex name ». You didn’t complain tough since he tends to cherish to the point you are crying from bliss.

He is a switch, he is a Dom when he has to punish you or just when he wants to impregnate you. He is a sub when he is a good mood, in fact he enjoys seeing you riding him, using him for your own pleasure, knowing he was the origin of that glorious sight.

When he is a Dom, he tends to choke you while fucking you and he is very rough on you. Slap your ass, choke you, even spit into your mouth if he has too. They’re no love into this act, it’s a way to remind you that he owns that body of yours. He overstimulate you a lot, telling you he’s not done until the only word you had in mind his is own name. When he is done with you, he is not surprised to see you asleep.

When he is a sub, he tends to praise your body, holding your hand while his hips are rocking into yours. Or if he is in back, he would grab either your hips or your ass, cheering you. He’ll never let you have 100% control tough, he can’t do that otherwise you could leave him.

There one thing he loves is finger fuck you, just knowing he got you around his finger and he could also pleasure you. It’s the perfect way to own you like he is supposed too.

529 notes · View notes

jq37 · 3 years

Note

Maybe I'm also being animal racist, but a current guess I have for oMaM is that the rabbit Sly saw at the docks was actually the newspaper photographer who seems to be spending a lot of energy documenting Sly's movements at this party, and the bad lighting/state of intoxicated introspection led Syl to make a wrong assumption. (Also did you ever watch Hoodwinked? Spoilers: the reporter bunny did it)

lol hey guys. So I've been fairly MIA the past couple of weeks due to my job trying to actively murder me but I wanted to pop in for a hot second to talk about where we are theory-wise at this point in the season.

First of all, to address the actual ask, I feel like Brennan must have known Longfoot would be suspicious due to ~animal racism~ and put him in as a red herring and now we have even more info to back that up.

I suspect that what's going on with the stuff in the manor is a version of the Pepper's ghost illusion which involves mirrors to do ghostly projections and look pretty darn good for an effect that was invented hundreds of years ago. If you've ever ridden Haunted Mansion at Disney, that's the effect they use to do the waltzing ghosts (fun fact, because the effect mirrors the objects it's used on and the Imagineers forgot to take that into account, all of the female ghosts are leading in the dance!) But that's just fluff, let's talk plot.

So last week's ep threw a LOT of suspicion on Sly with him literally being painted at the villain and Grant doing absolutely nothing to defend himself. And, I'll admit, it would be pretty delicious to not only have Sly foreshadow it earlier with his coy, "Why yes, it also could have been me," and also that Grant himself would have [REDACTED] Rekha a SECOND TIME (watch the Murder Mystery ep of Game Changers if you don't know what I mean--it's my fave ep). But I talked it over with my watch buddy @camwritery and I don't think Sly is actually a baddie. I think this is a double double cross (Lol a cross from Mr. Cross). Here's my thought process.

(1) Yes there's that stack of letters Daisy found in Sly's hand but those easily could have been forged. I'd like Buck to take a look at those since he has that rogue handwriting checking ability.

(2) Squire Badger specially said something was coming to F Sly up and Sly could tell he wasn't the mastermind. Fletcher would make the most sense as to who the mastermind actually is. Like, it wouldn't be so much a twist to the audience but it would be a big ass twist to the CHARACTERS who thought he was fully dead (for the most part) and I feel like that matters more than "subverting expectations" or whatever. It's possible we find out it's actually another party guest I guess (or more likely, that some number of them are involved as accomplices) but Brennan said last week we've met all the characters and it's too late to introduce a new person at this point. And Fletcher is such a through line in Sly and Daisy's stories, it would be weird to not go for the payoff.

(3) So Fletcher is alive. We know this. What would a dead but not dead criminal mastermind want? To ruin his arch nemesis, obv. So, how do you do that? Maybe you fake the death of some mouse to create an unsolvable murder to drive him crazy? And then maybe you work with the person who the fake murder pissed off (because of Sly's inability to "solve" it) to ruin Sly because that guy hates Sly now? And maybe you involve some element of faking deaths in your plan because a faked death is what was central to the original plot that made Sly's reputation and ruined your family? That's so convoluted but this is a guy who handcuffed himself to his enemy and jumped off a waterfall. He's clearly a drama queen and he has nothing but time.

(4) I think Sly has figured this out to some degree and he's decided that letting himself get captured is the best option for him at the moment. Like, he didn't protest at all. Which, yes, checks out to his laidback, posh casual persona but I think he knows that if anything happens to anyone while he's locked up then it casts suspicion on someone besides him or it means the "murders" have to stop because no one will kill anyone while he's not active as a possible suspect due to literally not being able to murder anyone. Speaking of--

(5) Yeah, I don't believe these are murders. All those dead bodies from the list? Badgers, corvids, horned animals. That's the badger fam and their spouses. And the one guy we "knew" was dead also doesn't seem to be dead (which Brennan seeded from the start with Conor's widow hearing his voice which seems possible if she lives so close and he was alive this whole time). I guess framing Sly for a full family murder or something was the plan? But that doesn't quite check out because presumably they'd un-die at some point and I feel like they wouldn't want to live under assumed identities in animal Bavaria or something. I know news doesn't travel fast w/o the internet but they're prominent people. News would spread I assume. Maybe the death faking was to make Sly believe he was crazy? Or to believe in ghosts? Messing with a genius's mind is I'm sure one of the worst things you can do. There's also Buck's Frankenstein theory which is a little out there but they were trying crazy stuff with electricity and dead bodies back in the day. Kind of a wild pull but cam sent me this about a Dr. Squires from the same-ish time period shocking someone back to life. It would be wild and now we have some alt explanations for the electricity but gotta explore all options. And this would Constance to call her dad a madman, lol.

(6) Grant/Sly has a lot more info than us with all those maddening redacted texts so it's very likely he has some long game happening we know nothing about. I wondered if he might have known about Fletcher for a while--when Daisy revealed he was alive he was surprised but I don't remember if he was surprised that he was alive or if it was ambiguous and it might just be that he didn't tell her. I assumed he didn't know at all (because I feel like that's what Brennan narrated in episode 1) but I need to go back and check.

(7) At the end of the day, D20 is a show that rewards love and friendship over betrayal and the like. This very much could be the first season with a real betrayal but I'm kinda skeptical. Sly could just be a big faker but he seems genuine to me. Also, what would his motive even be here? This doesn't seem like his style and I don't know why he'd do this.

(8) Lars failed their check on purpose and Ian saw full puppydog earnestness. Sly if you've been a bad guy this whole time and Lars didn't know, bitch I'll kill you

(9) Not really on topic but I want to note, Daisy's find of that second trick portrait makes me thing my theory was correct and there's a third somewhere. I wonder where.

(10) Even less on topic but the "Show Her Your Butt 2: Electric Boogaloo" sequence last week made me spit soda everywhere and I think that should be acknowledged.

#mice and murder #mice and murder spoilers #dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 #asks #madamxpresident

28 notes · View notes

ask-iamnotanalicorn · 4 years

Photo

Previous: The Discord Timeline

The Industrial Devolution Timeline:

The road to economic domination was creeping and insidious.

First, Nightmare Moon returned. Celestia and Cadance were able to subdue her, locking her in a (very comfortable) prison while Celestia sought a way to free her sister of the evil influence warping her mind. With the monarch so distracted and Princess Cadance struggling to take up the slack, a few opportunistic entrepreneurs began getting their roots into the market.

Then the Crystal War began, dividing Celestia’s and Cadance’s attention even further. The Changelings attacked, sowing destruction and distrust until Cadance defeated their queen. Tirek cut a swath through the countryside before being stopped, increasing the economic struggles. It was as if a domino of assaults on the Equestrian daily life had started, with none able to stop the ever-larger dominoes from toppling.

Celestia was terribly injured during the final fight that destroyed King Sombra. Luna finally overcame her rage and the parasitic magic fueling it, but went into seclusion out of shame and a desire to tend to her wounded sister. Cadance’s focus was split between post-war rebuilding in Equestria, assisting the confused, freed, and much-distrusted crystal ponies with stabilizing their crippled city, and tending to her own first child. With their leaders so distracted and the country still reeling from so many attacks, ponies desperately reached out for any kind of financial and necessities stability.

Perfectly fertile soil for the country’s most hostile economic takeover in its history.

Flim and Flam’s tactics were simple yet effective: move in wherever large numbers of companies had collapsed and fill the void with simple, cheap necessities that anypony could afford. As their finances grew, they began to expand, beating out surrounding competition with their rock-bottom prices until they could either buy out or crush their competitors. They continued this strategy further and further out, their influence spreading like hives across Equestria until hardly any retailers of food, drinks, household goods, small machine parts, and pretty much every other goods reseller below industrial level still operated. (Although who knew what the future might hold for FlimFlam Industries?) Once competition decreased to almost nill, they raised their prices to just barely affordable, swelling their already full pockets.

By the end of the Crystal War, they had such a grip, so much financial and political power, that even if the princesses should realize the toxic hold this company has on the market, it will be a long road back to rebalancing the economy. The country has, regrettably, come to rely on Flim Flam Industries, and their stranglehold would not be easily broken.

Sales always dreamed of being a traveling salespony. He’d even gotten a taste of it before the war. But now... well, there was no one to sell for. Companies kept dying out from under him. And if it weren’t bad enough that FFI already sold cheap, unexciting product options, the further lack of competition gave them even less incentive to TRY. They could cut costs on everything from packaging to flavor to color options; there was absolutely no consideration for variety or improvement or innovation. Soon everything in those blasted pop-up depots came in bland, uniformly labeled containers, with names like FLOUR and SOAP and TOWELS. There was no ART to it, and worst of all, no heart. And certainly no need for a door-to-door sales technique - not when F&F Depots were on every corner and people already had little choice but to get their goods from them.

So that’s how Sales ended up here, running one of those blasted depots. It is barely salesponyship, but it was still the closest thing he could find to his special talent. Meanwhile pollution and unchecked labor laws are creeping out from the cities, and farms are being consumed for their timber and factory locations. Quills & Sofas went under, leaving Sales’ father without a job and one more worry for Salespitch. Everypony prays that Celestia would heal, that Cadance would realize the depths of what was happening and make some move to stop it, that even the once-evil Princess Luna rumored to be tending her sister in the castle would take a stand. But for now, FFI is taking full advantage of the rulers’ distraction and obliviousness to tighten their hold on the country’s economy. Sales works and keeps his head down; it’s too great an issue for one pony to tackle, especially a pony whose only real talent is talking.

He tries to remind himself that things could be worse. Despite crummy wages and the soul-deadening monotony of just grabbing standard crap off a shelf when asked, Sales IS making a living. He makes an effort to keep his depot looking like the pony who works there actually cares (a façade FFI has long since abandoned.) Black took up work as a stocker in the store, so at least they get to hang out. Pollution isn’t as bad in Featherhorn (yet), although the deforestation and smog have been spreading nearer. But Sales just can’t get around the fact that there’s a briefcase-shaped hole in his soul where good, honest, smart salesponyship was meant to be. It’s hard not to be bitter and miserable when your purpose has been almost completely taken away from you. Still... if Sales can find a way to get a new company going without being ground under Flim and Flam’s hooves... maybe he can go back to doing what he loves, and the world will feel a little more right again. Fun Facts About The Flim Flam Timeline:

- I got my idea for a total economic takeover from a book 6 of the Pendragon series, “The Quillen Games” by D.J. MacHale. Its setting is a world where a single corporation has such control that they even own the people to an extent, but I didn’t want to go THAT dark (although this is still darker than my initial draft), so I stopped at just owning all of the selling outlets. Lack of competition in capitalism breeds complacency, leading to high prices with minimal improvement or variety. (That book may have also stuck in my mind because it was the first time an author so thoroughly pulled the rug out from under me that I was too depressed to finish the series. I can’t HANDLE that kind of catastrophic reversal, MacHale!!!)

- Sales’s dad, Sales Patter, lost his job as Head of Sales at Quills & Sofas after the company was eaten by FlimFlam Industries. He currently lives at home taking care of Pitch Perfect while Pitch Forward does her best to bring in funding through her competitive high-diving sponsorships. Sales and Black contribute money as well, although Black has a surprisingly well-stocked savings account that he refuses to explain to anyone.

- Flim and Flam offered Sales a job as their company spokespony, mainly because they loved the idea of having an ‘alicorn’ as their mascot. Obviously he turned them down, but he did still grudgingly accept a position at the Featherhorn depot since it’s the closest thing he can find to what he’s good at. (Flim and Flam do still like to give people a show, especially when it comes to the smoke and mirrors they must use to keep the wealthier populace and government from paying too much attention to some of the ways FFI cuts their spending - at the expense of their workers, mostly.)

- I’ve seen others do this timeline harsher; there’s a fimfiction that had an interesting take on Celestia being injured in her fight with Nightmare Moon and then IMPRISONED by Flim and Flam’s company so it could take over, which led to an ever-rising problem with pollution, underage workers, poor labor laws, and backhoof politics. Some of that does exist in this timeline, but I went with a severe injury and seclusion in the palace. The Princesses are still AROUND, but being carefully shielded from the truly dark nature of some of Flim and Flam’s machinations. It may just take someone getting their attention drawn to the right things to start the ball rolling...

- Sales and Patter do team up to create a small startup company, selling goods made by Featherhorn’s citizens to the local area. Black uses his connections as a Royal Service agent to sneak them into the palace, where they get an uber-rare meeting with Princess Celestia, who is blessedly awake enough to recognize the little AI and hear their plight. She convinces Luna, who has been taking care of her this whole time, that something needs to be done. Luna is grossly undereducated about modern economics and business practices, but she pulls Cadance in, and while Cadance works on investigating these horrible labor practices they’ve reported, Luna begins brushing up on her education and offers some protection to Sales’ little company. She does, in fact, find some obscure ancient laws that give them a leg up in the fight against FFI when they inevitably try to buy out, sue, and/or bankrupt Sales’ and Patter’s company into the ground. But they start making some headway.

- It’s a long road back to a balanced market, and much of the work will be done by the Princesses. But the inspiration ponies draw from the changes they see starts the dominoes again - this time, in the direction of positive change.

Next Week: The Wasteland Timeline (finale!)

#mlp ask blog #pony ask blog #my little pony #flim flam brothers #IANAA #salespitch #celestia #cadance #luna

35 notes · View notes

sssn-neptune-vasilias · 4 years

Text

So like, Ironwood’s clearly tumbling down the staircase towards authoritarianism so I just wanted to clarify my points about him because I did agree with a lot of what he was saying during the first couple of seasons up until he decided to completely throw himself off the boat without a life preserver. Also I don’t want y’all calling me an authoritarian (or fascist, Tumblr really doesn’t like to learn the difference between the different kinds of authoritarianisms and just lumps them all under fascism because why take a class when you can just say words?).

1) I think Ironwood was right to bring his airships to Beacon and frankly I think the other headmasters should’ve as well. Obviously no other Kingdom works like Mantle/Atlas- they’re the only one where the Hunter Academy is a direct branch of the kingdom’s military- but SOME protection should’ve been brought from Shade and Haven as well as Beacon. The Vytal tournament was an incredibly important part of Remnant culture, and ANYBODY could’ve seen that as a chance to strike. Any terrorist organization, anybody with a grudge, anybody with an agenda could’ve seen a giant float collessum and decided it’d look better crashing towards the ground. I think Ozpin, Lionheart and Theodore were hugely negligent not requesting SOME kind of military support from their respective kingdoms to watch over the event. Just think about it, that would’ve created FOUR different systems Cinder would’ve needed to hack into instead of one. The other three headmasters didn’t bring security and relied completely on Ironwood to save them when shit hit the fan. Ozpin’s words to Ironwood will always be hilarious to me. “You brought your army to my kingdom James… Use it!” The same army that he swore brought more harm than good? The same army he promised would be ineffective in keeping the peace? Now all of a sudden he’s begging for it? Ozpin of all people should’ve been READY for something like this. He’s closer to Salem than ANYONE he should’ve KNOWN that she would use an opportunity like this to strike. A wounded and defenseless Maiden locked in Beacon tower, a one-woman army infiltrating an SDC tower and leaving no recognizable trace other than a wake of bodies, a breach where “hundreds of people were killed” just weeks before, then Yang’s random and brutal “attack” on a seemingly defenseless student? Ozpin should’ve seen the signs of an imminent attack and acted proactively to ensure the safety of not just Beacon but the world. And instead he was too clueless to even ask for a security detail. He claimed that there was peace in Remnant, and that there was no need to upset people by bringing weapons of war, but peace needs to be defended. The Fall of Beacon was proof of what happens when you wait too long to defend yourself. Bringing in other kingdom’s defenses would’ve also shot one of Cinder’s weird monologue in the foot. She calls Ironwood a “tyrannical dictator” who “occupied an unsuspecting kingdom with armed forces” but if Ozpin had REQUESTED those airships? Maybe not even all of them but SOME? And brought his OWN? It would’ve just been business as usual instead of some kind of “invasion” from a previously adversarial nation. Ozpin’s complacency gave Cinder another nail to shut the coffin with. Did Ironwood overstep bringing ALL those ships without a warning? Absolutely, and whoever’s running Vale is out of their mind for not engaging their defenses to deter those ships before they entered Vale airspace in the first place. Should an equal number of ships all flying different flags have been there ANYWAY to stop something like the Breach or the Fall happening? Absolutely.

2) I think Ironwood’s plan is the right move. Let me clarify, the “tell the world about Salem” plan is the right move. “Unite the world against a common enemy” is the right move. “Expose the enemy for who she is and force her to leave the comfort of the shadows and engage in an actual war instead of the silly chess game proxy war you’ve been engaged in all this time.” If you expose Salem and make her a target, she crumbles. Anyone working for her is a top of the most wanted list, and it’s impossible for her to infiltrate and manipulate behind the scenes as she’s been doing. Her only army is Grimm and the kingdoms have been doing decently against them for centuries. I think Ironwood’s got a good idea, and Ozma was just too jaded by his centuries of life to believe that the world would pull together the way it needed to to band against Salem.

That said, I think Ironwood’s entire plan was a necessary evil. “Pull all Atlesian forces and resources out of Remnant and back into Mantle, to ride out the waves of Grimm that would come to tear the kingdom down after they learned about Salem.” It was a well thought out plan! He had STEPS. He KNEW that people would panic and planned AROUND that! For a “tin man” with no heart, he sure as fuck knew how to account for everyone else’s. Argus would suffer for this, sure, but he left them with a giant fucking jaegar, a Pacific Rim style wall around its biggest weak point, and enough air ships and guns to hold off a small scale invasion. Argus was also a unique situation where it was Mistral’s responsibility that Atlas elected to care for. We haven’t heard of any similar cities like this. He wanted to keep his people safe. And I know that’s a slap in the face to all of the people of Mantle who were living in the beginning stages of authoritarian rule for MONTHS, but I think the ends justify the means here. Ironwood’s plan was never to subjugate his people indefinitely, but to keep them safe until the worst had passed. I REALLY think Ironwood’s plan would’ve worked, and CLEARLY Salem does too, otherwise she wouldn’t be sending the biggest Grimm army ever seen and a whale the size of a fucking island to stop him. Telling Remnant about Salem was and still is a good plan, and drawing his troops and resources back to handle the fallout of it was a smart choice.

3) I think Ironwood is right to try abandon Mantle, and frankly I think he should’ve done it sooner. Ironwood is right, if Salem destroys Atlas, she destroys Remnant’s only hope of defeating her. Mistral and Haven were already attacked by the White Fang and Cinder’s crew without so much as a finger raised against them. Have fun reading the books to find out what’s happening in Shade. If Ironwood doesn’t save A) the power of the Winter Maiden B) the staff of creation, C) the lamp of knowledge AND D) as much of Atlas as he can, we’re fucked, and we’ve already lost the fucking lamp. The WORLD is fucked if we don’t stop Salem. And even KNOWING all of this, Ironwood waited until he had definitive proof that the enemy had already invaded Atlas before moving to leave. Tyrian and Watts were one thing, but Salem leaving her chess piece on his desk without him even knowing she was there? I can’t blame him for being scared. I can’t blame him for wanting to leave ASAP. Frankly I can’t blame him for calling RWBYJNRQOP naive. Saving every individual person down in Mantle would doom Atlas as a whole, and by extension the world. I don’t think I would’ve been able to fight against RWBY for wanting to risk saving everyone, but I don’t think I would’ve been able to fight with RWBY for the chance to take the risk either.

Last season was super political, which was a first for RWBY. Yeah, the writing’s ALWAYS been on the walls that Ironwood would take these steps into authoritarianism, and last episode had him breaking out into a full sprint. He straight up shot a member of his opposition! And that guy wasn’t even EXPLICITLY opposition, he was just questioning how Ironwood was handling the situation! I don’t think anyone can honestly say they’re surprised by this, and it’s super important to not just be against authoritarianism, but actively against it. We can’t condone it and must uproot it wherever it even begins to take hold. That said, I will say that, up to a point, Ironwood’s had good ideas on helping to save the world, while RWBY’ve been cutely optimistic but not very pragmatic in their “save every life no matter the cost” approach. And let’s be real, the show is called “RWBY” not “Ironwood” so I’m fully expecting the narrative to play out in a way that validates RWBY and demonizes Ironwood. I’m fully expecting Ironwood to completely fly off the walls as Salem draws nearer. I’m fully expecting to want to kick myself for agreeing with his motivations during season 7. I’m just writing this so that there’s a clear record of my stance not only for my followers (and for people ready to make callout posts, here you go 😉) but for myself too! So I can see if my stance changes and where I was before. So here you go future Tobias. Good luck!

#RWBY #General James Ironwood

36 notes · View notes

skepticbeliever-bookclub · 4 years

Note

Hello! I wondered if it would be too much to ask for bottom Ryan fics? Thank you for doing this while Nini's blog is unavailable!

Hello there friend!

You have hit on a favourite trope of the fandom, so we’ve limited this list to ten of the book club’s personal favourites!

we found each other hungry - abovetheruins | E, 9.4k, complete

He’d laughed with the rest of his friends when they’d seen the billboard advertising the site. They’d all been a little buzzed and high on the adrenaline of another successful semester under their belts, but he’d woken up the next morning with the site’s name poking at his subconscious, and by the end of the day he had created an account and set up a profile.

It wasn’t that he was struggling, per se, but tuition was fucking expensive and he didn’t want his parents to pay for a dime, so he’d buckled down and juggled classes and two part-time jobs to pay for it all, until he’d gotten so used to nights of little to no sleep that the bags beneath his eyes were deep enough to drown in and he was spending most of his waking hours fueled by caffeine and adrenaline and little else. If he had a chance to get compensated for nothing more strenuous than spending some time with a lonely old dude, well, what kind of idiot would he be to pass that up?

Another Bad Habit - blacktofade | E, 10k, complete

Shane has a thing for virgins, which Ryan just so happens to be.

Fist and Foremost - makemadej (santamonicayachtclub) | E, 26k, complete

Becoming boyfriends is surprisingly simple, but learning to communicate like boyfriends is kind of a struggle. Also, Ryan really wants Shane’s fist in him and is determined not to mention it.

Perfect Fit - moliuoli | E, complete

There's a legend that says anyone able to take all of statue Shane's cock will summon the god to the mortal realm. Given the statue's excessive size, no one has ever succeeded to prove or disprove the story.

Until Ryan that is.

is it safe to just be who we are? - loveontherocks | E, 7.5k, complete

To feel Shane’s finger touch the choker so softly ignites the deepest parts of his fantasies, the ones where Shane takes his hand and closes it around his throat, just tight enough to make it difficult to breathe. Ryan’s breath is so shallow it makes him dizzy.

“What’s this?” Shane asks, voice barely audible over the music and chatter in the bar. Ryan keeps his eyes on Shane’s face, just to watch the way his eyes light with fire when their eyes meet again. It’s enough to send curls of arousal swimming in his stomach, lower even, his pants suddenly a hair too tight. Shane drops his hand and Ryan swallows as he straightens his posture, squaring his shoulders.

“Like it?” Ryan breathes.

or; ryan wears a choker and shane's into it.

A Case of the Bottom - Ghoulboyboos | E, 10k, complete

“Don’t be such a silly little boy.”

Ryan’s shout of protest is halfway out of his throat when it gets stuck. His face flushes hot and something else coils under his belly button as he watches Shane turn away to grab his box again. His co-host is not looking back at Ryan, instead he takes long strides down the hallway with the props and Ryan nearly chokes trying to dislodge the remark in his throat. It’s nonsense. It’s unprecedented. It’s frankly ridiculous.

But Ryan, who up to this point was absolutely sure that he was comfortably straight, has the worst boner in his life since puberty.

And he is pretty sure that Shane’s comment is to blame for it.

Fuck.

Wind Me Tighter Than a Wire - sequence_fairy, loveontherocks | E, 5k, complete

“I just think,” Ryan says at lunch over their shared table, “that I kinda want him to fucking ruin me, you know?”

Shane accidentally tries to inhale his La Croix. Ryan stands quickly to help him as he chokes, but Shane waves him off, setting the can down with shaking fingers.

“You okay, man?” Ryan asks, all solicitous. Like he wasn’t the cause of Shane nearly drowning in far too expensive, grapefruit flavoured sparkling water.

“Yeah,” Shane answers, hoarse. He feels faint and there’s a roaring in his ears that he attributes to the momentary loss of the ability to breathe.

Or: Ryan’s like, “I’m just aesthetically attracted to some men in particular,” and “I don’t want to do anything about it,” and “alright, maybe, sometimes, I think about getting lovingly railed by Henry Cavill while I jerk off but who doesn’t?” and Shane is maybe losing his mind about it.

One Lock; No Key - shiphitsthefan | E, 3.2k, complete

In a matter of hours, Shane has either learned or admitted to knowing most of Ryan’s major kinks, and Ryan has no clue why Shane isn’t bothered. Ryan’s certainly bothered, in more ways than one.

He checks his phone, tired and emotionally deflated. Shane’s been downstairs for half an hour, ostensibly using the bathroom and brushing his teeth. He never takes thirty minutes to do either. Grumbling, Ryan throws off the covers, mashing the camera’s off button before walking down the attic stairs and grabbing the doorknob. No need to film an empty room.

Before he can open the door more than an inch, it pushes shut from the other side, and Ryan hears the definitive click of the lock sliding into place.

“Shane?”

No answer.

How Deep (Is Your Love) - touchinghearts | E, 3.9k, complete

The last thing Shane expects when he exits the bathroom is for his boyfriend to appear out of fucking nowhere, pin him against the wall, and swallow his cock down in the open hallway of a hotel.

Bad Ideas - Fraudgara | E, 5.4k, complete

Shane’s fingers curled tighter so he would stop shaking. Ryan pulled away, drew back slowly, and pushed Shane’s hands back, off his hips gently. “Baaaad idea,” he mumbled, licking his lips and shutting his eyes as he extricated himself. “This is a bad idea.”

Ryan didn’t get it, and Shane was left behind in a moment, trying to figure out in a drunken stupor, how best to tell Ryan that those were the ideas Shane liked the most.

Lost a fic? We can help. Send an ask!

#shyan #skeptic believer #fic search #fic found #sbbookclub

46 notes · View notes

catboymingi · 4 years

Text

memories - in this life and the next chap. 1

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: angst; soulmates & reincarnation au

word count: 3.1k

warnings: amnesia, hospital environments, dealing with grief, emotional neglect, a teeny bit of language

a/n: this is so short i’m sorry i promise the next ones will be longer, this one was just mainly to like... build the context. also the change in you/her from the previous chapter is intentional, it’s ~foreshadowing~

while some people want nothing more than to remember, others would give everything just so they could forget

the four minutes of silence had been the worst four minutes your family had ever lived through. the doctors had done whatever doctors did when someone died in their hospital bed, but were at least as surprised as your family when you shook slightly, immediately resuming their efforts at reanimating you, and this time it worked. they attached you to an incredible amount of machines and put you into an artificial coma to spare your body from having to do more work than absolutely necessary until they could somewhat safely say that being awake would not risk anything for you anymore.

when you woke up for the first time weeks after you had died for four minutes you didn’t recognise any of the faces around you. you didn’t understand what they were saying, and you couldn’t recognise the name they called you by.

“i don’t understand”, you said weakly, and surprised everyone when you spoke korean. of course your entire family spoke korean - your parents had immigrated in their twenties, before you were born, so you’d grown up bilingual. what was surprising wasn’t that you knew korean, it was that you didn’t understand the language that was supposed to be as natural to you as korean was. it was then that they realised they hadn’t gotten their daughter back. that their daughter didn’t even remember that she was their daughter. but you were alive, and that was already more than they’d hoped for when the machines first turned silent.

the doctors told you that this amnesia might slowly disappear, that you might slowly remember your life again, but also warned you that it might not ever leave and you had to be prepared for that. it stung, but they tried their best to give you your memories back, tell you about your life, your friends, everything you’d ever done that they could tell you about. you couldn’t remember any of it, but it seemed like your life had been fairly happy, if you ignored the autoimmune disease you had to deal with. they’d always tried their best to allow you as much of a normal life as they could, and even though you couldn’t remember any of it you still felt a deep gratitude towards these people that obviously cared about you incredibly much. so you tried to like them, to feel the feelings towards them that a daughter should have towards her parents, and while you didn’t feel close to them yet, couldn’t feel close to them yet, your discomfort at their touches, their physical affection, had slowly started to decrease. you knew it probably hurt them, but it wasn’t something you could change, no matter how hard you tried.

unlike this family, mingi hadn’t been lucky enough for the love of his life to wake up again. he’d refused to leave her side until they had told him there was nothing they could do, that there was nothing he could do either, at which point he’d broken down crying, unable to be strong anymore. he’d lost her. he’d lost her forever and he was stuck waiting until he could find her again, in the next life and the one after that, wanting nothing more than to speed up the process. but he knew that she wouldn’t have wanted that, so he forced himself to go on, even though he was but a shadow of himself, burying himself in his work and moving in with a friend because he couldn’t stand returning to the apartment he’d shared with her every single day, all the memories and all the little pieces of her that he refused to get rid of even though he was unable to even look at any of it. he felt like if he got rid of even the smallest piece of trash that she’d forgotten to throw away before she left for work that day he got rid of her, of the memories and of the relationship and of all the moments and feelings he’d shared with her. and while his friends were worried for him they knew he needed to grieve, they knew he needed his time, and they were more than willing to wait for him to be even a little more okay than he was now. they knew she’d been his everything.

day after day you tried to become yourself again, trying to remember who you even were in the first place. but your memories seemed to be irrevocably gone, even your name not yet something you reacted to each time someone called out for you. it didn’t feel like you. it didn’t feel like the person you were now, and you felt like you’d failed everyone for not wanting to be a person you couldn’t even remember. you wanted to create a new you, because unlike the people surrounding you, the people that remembered who you used to be and that had an attachment to those memories, the person that you were before you died held no significance to you, the only thing you had in common with her being her body, her genetic set up. you didn’t want to have to keep trying to be someone you weren’t even sure you wanted to be.

at least your overall physical condition seemed to have improved drastically, miraculously. it was as if your autoimmune disorder had died along with you, something the doctors tried very hard to figure out because that wasn’t how genetic disorders worked, but it seemed like that was the trade-off for your complete lack of memory. everyone was still somewhat wary at your sudden and technically impossible recovery, so that you were kept in the hospital for another couple weeks even after you were fine, just to be sure, but when your condition seemed to not worsen at all even after one and a half months you were deemed stable enough to return home. you would have to come in weekly for a check-up, and you would have to be careful to not over-exert yourself, but since you would be on constant watch by your parents the doctors decided that it might be helpful for you to return to your childhood home, maybe having some memories resurface in the familiar environment.

that hope was quickly destroyed by the harsh reality of your brain refusing to remember anything at all. it was as if you’d never even been in this house, and all the pictures on the walls didn’t feel like you, either. the house felt heavy, suffocating, enveloped in feelings and memories that everyone but you remembered. you felt like a stranger, you felt out of place, and as soon as your parents allowed you to you spent as much time in public spaces as you could. you wanted to escape the pressure of having to remember, and you wanted to escape their looks of disappointment and resentment towards you, the person that looked so much that the daughter they’d loved but didn’t behave like her at all. because even though you had no memory of them you didn’t want to be looked at like that, like you’d stolen their daughter from them, like you were an intruder. like it was your fault. not remembering them was okay for you, but knowing that they remembered you, remembered the you from before and the you now, and that it was very obvious which one they preferred? that hurt. knowing that you weren’t good enough for them hurt. knowing that, even if they’d never admit it, a part of them wished you’d stayed dead because this was like you being dead except they had to look at you all the time hurt. and knowing that you had no one to go to about this, to talk to about how you felt, hurt as well.

so, hours outside turned into more and more time, until at some point you decided you were tired of it. your parents had money, savings, and even though you felt a ping as guilt as you took them that quickly subsided, because you knew that the money they kept in the house wasn’t even close to all their money. they’d maybe not even notice it. but for you, it would make life much easier. you gathered the essentials - a sleeping bag they’d told you about in one of their desperate attempts to get you to remember things, food that wouldn’t be expiring anytime soon, and whatever else google told you was useful for living on the streets. it wasn’t like you were planning to do that - you weren’t stupid, nor were you suicidal, and the money you had might last you for a very cheap airbnb for the entire month and maybe more; by that time you planned to have found a job and your own place to stay. you didn’t rush this, either - transferred the money to a new bank account, got yourself a new wardrobe, a few pieces at a time, tried to prepare yourself for what you were about to do as well as you could. you might’ve hated your current life, but running away without any kind of planning wasn’t going to improve your situation. so you took your time.

when you finally did it, though, you felt relieved. you didn’t realise how caged you’d felt until you were out. it felt like you were able to breathe again, for the first time since you woke up after dying.

mingi still was very far from over her, but his friend yunho had convinced him that he should rent out the living room in the apartment he still refused to enter, he still refused to give up. he paid rent there, by himself now that she was gone, and the only reason why he managed to keep it was all the extra shifts he’d picked up and the fact that yunho had mercy on him and didn’t ask for a lot of rent. but he couldn’t keep it up forever either, and it was because of this that a few weeks after the initial idea, they’d found someone who had rented the living room for a few weeks right away. mingi still wasn’t ready to go in, so he asked his friend to go and lock your bedroom and take away everything that he knew was so personal to the heartbroken man. he hated the idea of changing anything, but he hated the idea of a stranger rummaging through his life with the love of his life even more. so all the important things, the anniversary gifts, the pictures, were locked in the bedroom.

it hurt yunho to be there, as well - mingi hadn’t been the only one that she’d meant a lot to. being as close as he was with the tall male it had been impossible to not befriend her too, her bright and lively aura pulling in everyone that got to meet her. but he prepared everything, for his friend, because he knew that if he had to go back he’d break down and no one might be able to piece him back together.

and it was yunho who welcomed the very first person - besides him - to enter the apartment where mingi’s entire heart was still kept.

you’d found a place to rent for cheap very soon - it was almost an entire apartment, for half the price you’d pay if you were to rent it first-hand. the person you’d been messaging sounded incredibly nice, and while you were doubtful because it was a man who sorted things with you and a man that was the main tenant you had a fairly good feeling about just these men. you’d been given some clear rules via call already - don’t move anything, don’t throw anything away that you didn’t bring, preferably just don’t touch anything unless absolutely necessary. you thought it was odd, but you accepted it. it was a place to stay, more luxurious than you could have hoped for, and you were guaranteed that you’d be able to stay for as long as you wanted to if you followed the rules.

a tall blond greeted you in front of the building, showing you the way to your new home for the next few weeks and handing you the keys. he entered with you, making sure there were no questions about the apartment and once more stressing that you were not allowed to throw anything away, change anything, and that the bedroom was a hard no. it was locked, anyway, but he wanted to be sure. and while you accepted these rules, you were curious about them because it did sound a little like the owner either had ocd or was an axe murderer who kept the evidence hidden away in his apartment.

“i’ll do that, no problem, but why all these rules?” but you knew the question was a sensitive one when you saw the pain that immediately distorted the man’s expression.

“this is my friend’s apartment. he shared it with his girlfriend, but she… she died. no pretty way to say it. it’s still fresh, and he just doesn’t want to lose any memories, you know? he hasn't even been here since. he wants to have her to come back to when he does, even if just in the trash she left on the floor.”

you nodded in understanding - you remembered how the first time you’d changed anything up in your room your parents damn near had a breakdown, and you weren’t even really dead.

“i’m sorry for his loss. i’ll do my best not to change anything up unless absolutely necessary. thank you for letting me stay here even though it’s hard. i know it is.” and because your voice sounded like you genuinely understood yunho got curious about you, this stranger that had rented the apartment from two strange men by herself, for several weeks in a row, seemingly willing to accept whatever rules and regulations he’d put up. he knew it’d be inappropriate to ask about you when he’d barely just met you, though, so he stayed silent, nodding at you.

“just in case something’s wrong you can always text me, or call me if it’s urgent, same number as when we last called. i hope this’ll be okay for you.”

it felt like the two of you were nodding at least as much as you were talking, you moving your head in acknowledgment again.

“anyway, i’ll go now. check up on my friend.”

“tell him thank you for letting me stay here.”

“yeah.” and with that, he left.

when you settled on the couch you felt a weird kind of familiarity, a familiarity you hadn’t felt a single time ever since you woke up again. you didn’t understand why, had no conscious recollection of this place, knew you’d never been here before. still, it felt like you knew it, knew these surroundings. the feeling was weird, kind of uncomfortable and scary, but you decided to ignore it in favour of going to sleep.

mingi had sent yunho to check up on the apartment every single day, to make sure that the stranger he still hadn’t met wasn’t wreaking havoc and destroying the only remembrance of her physical presence he still had. but day after day his friend told him that it seemed like you kept your promise to not change anything up, like you’d barely even touched anything at all. the couch was changed, of course, and you’d also used the bathroom and the kitchen, but both yunho and mingi were surprised at the fact that you always used the same set of cutlery, the same plate, the same towel. you’d gotten your own dish soap, your own laundry detergent, because you didn’t even want to risk emptying the ones she’d bought back then. you were careful, attentive and compassionate, and it made mingi curious to get to know you. he knew he’d not be able to see you in the apartment, so he asked yunho to ask you to meet up with the two of them in some café, just because he was curious and he wanted to ask if you were still comfortable at his place that didn’t feel like his anymore now that she was gone.

he was a little nervous about it, just because you might ask questions and because you might dig in his past and because being face to face with the person that was living where she used to live might cause emotions he’d more or less successfully suppressed by now to resurface. but his friend had convinced him that at least from your part there was nothing to fear, that you’d been more considerate of the situation than even most of their friends had been.

you were nervous when yunho asked you to meet in some café, because you didn’t know the second man at all, hadn’t even been told his name yet because the blond always just referred to him as ‘his friend’. you wanted to leave a good impression, so you got a little dressed up, though not too much because that’d be inappropriate as hell considering the other man had just lost his girlfriend not too long ago. it was just subtle makeup and clothes that were a bit fancier than your usual ripped jeans and oversized t-shirt, opting for ripped jeans and a cropped top instead. it was all black, not even on purpose but because you felt most comfortable in dark clothes, and after you’d spent half an hour overthinking if your outfit was appropriate or if you should wear something else you finally left.

it wasn’t hard finding the café - it was close to where you lived now, and while it wasn’t too fancy it wasn’t too hidden away, either, so that you weren’t left looking around for some secret entrance for an hour as you’d feared you would be. you entered carefully, scanning the café for the blond man whose face you could easily recognise by now by how often he’d visited you to check up on both you and the apartment, and it only took about a minute to spot him. then, your eyes fell upon the tall male next to him, and you felt the same weird kind of familiarity that had become your constant companion in the apartment. you knew there was no way you knew him, and you knew that this was probably just the desire to finally know something again, remember something again. still, you surprised yourself when you opened your mouth and yelled for him.

“mingi!”

22 notes · View notes

doomedandstoned · 3 years

Text

Spelljammer Reveal Trippy New Vid, Talk ‘Abyssal Trip’

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

Interview by Billy Goate

Cover Art by Aaron Cahill

Our week of big interviews continues as we meet up with the ethereal doom outfit from Stockholm SPELLJAMMER and premiere a new music video, from their just released second LP, dropped only weeks ago on RidingEasy Records and now the number one album on the Doom Charts.

'Abyssal Trip' (2021) is an enthralling listen from edge to center, with lavish textures, deep thematic content, and unforgettably emotive atmosphere that will stick with you for life. Enjoy it as you read the revealing conversation with Niklas Olsson (guitar, vox) and Robert Sörling (guitar) that follows as we unpack their steller new spin, talk nerdy gear shit, and contemplate humanity's fate.

And now, Doomed & Stoned is pleased to bring you the world premiere of the brand new video for that epic third track, "Among The Holy."

Give ear...

Spelljammer - Among The Holy (music video)

You guys have been a band now for damn near 15 years, maybe longer. Most bands don't make it past two years! What is the "key" to the band staying together for so long and continuing to find inspiration for creating new music?

Rob: I don’t think it’s been 15 years just yet but we are getting there, haha. None the less - that’s a really interesting question! Nik and I started the band much because we share the same taste in music, film and, well, art in general. I think that's the core keeping it all together. Also, there have been a few constellations of band members over the years, all with their own dynamic. I think these kinds of changes, and the new directions of the music because of that, is part of the inspiration. Maybe another reason is that we all live in different cities and because of that sometimes a lot of time passes between rehearsals, writing sessions and such, making us always craving for new Spelljammer jams and songs.

Nik: The craving yes. And another reason I think is the fact that we’ve never really been in a rush to get anywhere. Anything Spelljammer, the music included, takes time. If we had been set on making it, this thing probably would have fallen apart a long time ago.

Abyssal Trip by Spelljammer

How did the theme for Abyssal Trip originate?

Nik: I have always been more drawn to the feelings or emotions you get from a riff or piece of music than to any theme of a lyric. But I would say that any themes came in at the lyrics state, which is at the end of the process. But the themes aren’t that specific to any of the albums. I think I cast a pretty wide net in the beginning and stuck to it. For the next album perhaps we will venture more into unchartered waters. We’ll see.

What fascinates you about the Great Abyss of the ocean?

Nik: I totally get that the word abyss conjures up images of ocean trenches and, yes, the ocean is a fascinating and to a large extent undiscovered place. However, when I wrote that I wasn’t necessarily thinking of the ocean but more the abyss of our own minds. But I think it’s a word that evokes many things, like despair and doom, and it is of course totally open to interpretation.

Is mankind doomed or do we have time to correct our course?

Nik: I’m not as pessimistic of a person as the lyrics may suggest. I think we will be here on earth for a long time. Mankind is clever (perhaps too clever for her own good) even if there are a lot of people hell-bent on trying to screw up everything for everybody else.

Rob: Yes, and considering how ignorant and careless (some) people are acting during this pandemic, at least over here, makes you wonder if there’s any hope at all.

Nik: People are the worst. Ultimately, though, none of it matters because we’re all doomed.

Have you guys seen any good movies/documentaries or read any good books lately that inspired you or otherwise challenged your thinking about life, the present, or the future?

Rob: I can’t say that I’ve seen or read anything recently that challenged me significantly, I guess I’m getting too old to be that overwhelmed haha. The film A Ghost Story though was kind of cool though because it was different, slow and weird (in a good way), and for me it’s always inspiring to read/see/hear something that makes you think, "Man, I wish I had come up with that idea”.

Nik: Absolutely! Punch Drunk Love, Moon, and Office Space are definitely movies like that. I have watched so many movies and series through this pandemic and I can’t remember any of them right now. But I did just notice that there is a season 3 of Loudermilk on HBO! If you haven’t already, see it! I’m currently reading "Homeward Bound, The Life of Paul Simon” by Peter Ames Carlin. It’s a good read about one of my favorite musicians.

For recording this album, what kind of gear did you use and what production/engineering considerations did you have to take into account?

Rob: Since we did a remote recording in the countryside we had to use whatever stuff that we could fit into a couple of cars. I have a couple of old audio interfaces that I linked for a total of 16 channels. I also have a small collection of mics (nothing fancy) and we used them all and the rest was borrowed. We set up the drums in the living room and put the guitar and bass rigs as far away as we could (the adjacent rooms) to avoid bleed and just focused on getting the rhythm tracks done. The goal was to get us all in the same room and to catch the vibe from a relaxed rehearsal kind of situation. The bass rig used was a Orange Terror Bass and an Ampeg SVT 810 and the guitar was tracked through a Reval Mark I and/or Orange TH-100 and a Orange PPC 412. Of course there’s always some unforeseen problem lurking and this time it was the electricity in the old country house.

Nik: I don’t use many effects, just a fuzz. For this one I used a Supercollider from Earthbound Audio. It is exactly what the name suggests. That’s all you need really.

The album cover is amazing! It reminds me, in some strange way, of the creature in the old B-movie Robot Monster (1953). What's the story behind the artwork?

Nik: It definitely has a B-movie vibe that I really like. I’m afraid I can’t really tell you much about it other than the artist name is Aaron Cahill and you can find his stuff on Instagram under the name nghbrs.

I filmed your first US appearance at Psycho Las Vegas in 2016. Fans want to know: do you have ambitions of returning to North America once the world sorts out this pandemic?

Rob: Yes, that’s our first and only US appearance so far and we wouldn’t mind at all returning to Vegas or any other part of the US. For now it’s really hard making any plans at all. In fact, you would think that this kind of isolation would enhance creativity, and maybe for some it does, but for us it’s actually been the most unproductive period so far for Spelljammer. So I’m hoping that by the time this thing blows over we get the inspiration back both for writing/recording new music, and in time hopefully revisiting the US!

Nik: I agree, playing at Psycho Las Vegas was a blast. I hope we get another opportunity to come back some day.

Spelljammer at Psycho Las Vegas/a>

Some Buzz

“The vastness of everything is something that I think about a lot,” says Spelljammer bassist/vocalist Niklas Olsson. And it certainly shows in both the expansive, sludgy sounds and contemplative lyrics of the Stockholm, Sweden based trio. Following a 5-year break between their previous album, Ancient of Days — perhaps fittingly spent pondering said vastness — Spelljammer is back with an album that perfectly bridges the band’s earlier desert rock leanings and their later massive, slow-burning riffs.

'Abyssal Trip' (note: carefully reread that album title) takes its moniker from the perpetually dark, cold, oxygen-free zone at the bottom of the ocean. The 6-song, 44-minute album fittingly embodies that bleak realm with rumbling, oozing guitars intercut with dramatic melodic interludes. The songs take their time to unfurl, making them even more hypnotic. Likewise, the lyrics take a poetic approach to establishing the sonic scenery.

“The lyrical themes we address, like the ultimate doom of man, and the search and longing for new and better worlds, are still there,” Olsson says. “The concept of something undiscovered out there in vast emptiness is pretty much always present.”

The recording process for Abyssal Trip differs from previous releases in that the band — guitarist Robert Sörling, drummer Jonatan Rimsbo and Olsson — opted to capture the performances while holed up in the mental bathysphere of a house in the countryside near Stockholm. “The songs benefitted from the relaxed environment of being away from everything,” Olsson explains. Indeed, the album sounds confident and meticulously arranged, afforded by the band’s isolation. Sörling mixed the album and it was mastered by Monolord drummer Esben Willems at Berserk Audio.

Album opener “Bellwether” begins dramatically with a very slow, nearly minute-long fade in of rumbling distortion setting the stage for heavily distorted bass and guitar plucking out the lugubrious riff for another minute and a half before the drums begin, and likewise equally as long before vocals gurgle to the surface. “Lake” abruptly shifts gears, opening with an unusually fast gallop before rupturing into thundering doom that soon drops into a clean-tone Middle Eastern melodic breakdown.

The title track serves as the album centerpiece, opening with ominous film dialogue about blood sacrifice that launches into pummeling, detuned guitars rumbling over gut-punching drums and howling vocals hearkening to the proto-sludge of Pink Floyd’s “The Nile Song.” The dynamic relents briefly for a slow building clean guitar melody before all instruments lock into a jerking riff topped off by a trilling Iommi style lead. Throughout, Abyssal Trip is, just like its title suggests, an epic tour through desolate zones which yields much to discover.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Debuts #D&S Interviews #Spelljammer #Stockholm #Sweden #doom #metal #doom metal #music video #HeavyBest2021 #RidingEasy Records #Doomed and Stoned

6 notes · View notes

calumcest · 4 years

Text

there’s no time for running away now

so me exposing myself: yes i write fics that i never post. here is one of them that i’m pretty sure i wrote while completely out of my fucking mind at like 2am and have not re-read or edited so? absolutely cannot guarantee the quality of this fic in any way shape or form please do not hold me accountable for any of its content. unless you like it in which case please do hold me accountable because i require at least 3 doses of validation a day to survive. also this fic was literally me coming up with the final line and then writing 2.4k just to have a reason to have it

It’s three a.m., and Ashton’s awake.

On the surface, that might not appear to be a problem. And ordinarily, it wouldn’t be - ordinarily, Ashton would either roll over groggily, will sleep to come with every fibre of his being and maybe a quick prayer or two, or read something mind-numbingly boring like his urgent work emails to send him back to sleep. This, however, isn’t the most ordinary situation.

Ashton is awake because of Luke.

And, okay, that’s a bit of an unfair characterisation. It’s actually Ashton’s racing thoughts keeping him up, but since Luke’s the focus of said thoughts swirling in a huge cluster through Ashton’s mind, overlapping and interlocking so Ashton can’t pick them apart from the love love love that’s threading through them all, he’s going to blame it on Luke. And it’s not exactly Ashton’s fault he’s in love with Luke, is it? He’d challenge anyone to spend years crammed in tight spaces with Luke Hemmings and not fall in love with him.

(Michael and Calum don’t count, obviously. Ashton’s never seen two people so blinkered by love in his life, and he’s equal parts envious of their deep, easy love and grateful that they’re not his competition. He’s not sure he could take on Calum’s thoughtfulness if it came down to it.)

The real problem is that Ashton’s alone. They’re in a hotel, some shitty place in northern England that Ashton can’t even remember the name of, but they’d all been so ecstatic to find out that they had a room each (each!) that they hadn’t been able to bring themselves to care. They’d all hopped straight in the shower, washing off three days’ worth of sweat and grime, and then one by one dropped out of the group chat (Ashton had heard Calum’s door clicking open and shut, muted footsteps and muffled voices), until Ashton thought he was the only one left awake.

When Ashton’s squashed in a tour bus with God knows how many other six-foot-something men in their twenties, there’s nothing he wishes for more than a moment to himself. He sneaks the moments in when he can - a few minutes backstage, a few moments on the bus in the morning before anyone else has woken up, before Luke comes padding in with bleary eyes and a sleepy smile that makes Ashton’s stomach flip - but it’s never more than ten minutes, never enough time to feel the solitude. Now, though, he’s got nothing to do besides let the seclusion envelop him, listen to the silence and his tinnitus and let the ringing infiltrate his thoughts.

It’s been so long since Ashton’s been on his own, really been on his own - usually on hotel nights, he’s so exhausted and grateful for a proper bed he falls asleep fully-dressed and wakes up disoriented - that he’s kind of forgotten what it’s like. He’s forgotten the way that his thoughts start to squirm around in his mind, all clamouring for his attention, one following the other in such rapid succession that Ashton barely has the time to process them before the next one is already gripping him by the throat and forcing him to look at it. He’s forgotten how fucking overwhelming it is, how it makes his breath catch in his throat, his stomach churn, thinking himself in spirals that he can’t think himself out of.

The fact that Luke’s next door isn’t exactly helping matters. The hotel walls seem to be a product of a scientific experiment into creating materials that are one atom thick, so Ashton can hear every move Luke makes. He heard it when Luke padded into the bathroom for a shower, when Luke ambled over to the desk, heard the entirety of the news that Luke had on for about twenty minutes (apparently the Queen’s giving a speech tomorrow, and the EU are looking to pass a law about interest rates). He heard it when Luke got changed, heard his fucking jeans drop to the floor, heard him tossing and turning trying to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress. He can hear every creak of Luke’s bed, can almost make out Luke’s deep breathing if he really strains his ears, and it’s making it impossible not to think about him. Not that Ashton’s particularly good at ever not thinking about Luke. Luke Hemmings is definitely the majority shareholder of Ashton’s mind.

Now, though, at three in the morning, in a shitty hotel room in God knows where, a country that isn’t home and never will be, on his own with nobody there to ground him, it feels frightening, more overwhelming than Ashton could ever put into words. He’s so in love with Luke, so fucking in love with Luke, and it puts everything on a knife’s edge. His sanity, his friendship with Luke, his career - everything’s on the line because Ashton can’t say no to those baby blues.

At half-past, when Luke rolls over in bed and makes a little noise of contentment, duvet rustling as he moves, Ashton breaks.

“Wha’?” Michael says groggily when he picks up, sounding too sleepy to be annoyed.

“Are you awake?” Ashton says, as quietly as possible, gnawing at his lip.

“No,” Michael says, and then the line cuts out. Ashton hates him.

“Are you up?” Ashton asks, when Michael picks up again, on the first ring.

“Am now, dickhead,” Michael grunts. “‘s up?”

“Luke.” There’s a pause, then a rustling sound and quiet footsteps, and then the sound of a door locking.

“Ash, it’s three thirty in the fucking morning,” Michael says, and his voice echoes strangely, bouncing off the walls of what Ashton can only suppose is his en-suite, but it’s soft, understanding. He knows why Ashton’s still up, why he’s getting a call from across the hall at three-thirty in the morning.

“Yeah,” Ashton says, hoping Michael understands yeah, that’s why I’m this fucked up. Everything feels worse at night, when Ashton doesn’t have the bright light of day to convince himself that it’s not that bad, he’s not going to fuck everything up that badly. Michael sighs, and it’s tinny and a little staticky, and Ashton’s suddenly struck with the thought that Michael’s voice is being beamed up to a satellite thousands of miles away before being sent back to Ashton, even though he’s about five strides away. It makes him feel a little sick, that level of removal between the two of them. Michael’s a few metres and yet thousands of miles away.

“Ash,” he says gently, which is never a good sign from Michael. “You’ve got to stop torturing yourself like this.” Ashton bites at his thumbnail.

“‘m not torturing myself,” he mumbles.

“Oh?” Michael says, a note of scepticism in his voice. “You’re not lying in bed at three-thirty in the fucking morning thinking about how in love you are with Luke, convincing yourself you’re going to fuck everything up because of it?” Ashton hesitates.

“Fuck you,” he says eventually, and Michael doesn’t even retort, just sighs again, heavy and sad.

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” he says.

“You’re not seeing me,” Ashton says, a little childishly.

“You know what I mean.” Ashton does, and he hates it. It adds a sheen of guilt to all the other confusing emotions bubbling through him, that Michael’s got to deal with this, got to walk the tightrope of being between his two best friends.

“Sorry,” Ashton says, a little too meekly.

“Don’t,” Michael says sternly. “You’ve got to do something about it, Ash. You can’t spend the rest of your life stuck in perpetual limbo.” Ashton tears at a hangnail, relishing the way it stings when he rips it.

“Do what?” Ashton says. “‘s not like I can tell him. Could fuck everything up.” He hesitates, and then adds: “Could fuck your life up.”

“You think that matters more to me than your happiness?” Michael says, sounding genuinely incredulous, and Ashton loves him, absolutely fucking loves him, and absolutely doesn’t deserve him.

“I love you,” he tells Michael, who snorts, the sound echoing strangely in the bathroom.

“You’d better,” he says, but it’s fond. “C’mon, Ash, you’ve got to talk to him at some point. What the fuck else are you going to do? Sit around and wait for Luke to get married and have two-point-five kids?” Ashton blinks up at the ceiling, stomach churning at the thought of Luke with a faceless spouse and a white picket fence.

“Maybe,” he says, counting the stains on the white paint to give him something else to think about. “Doesn’t sound like the worst plan in the world.”

“No, Ash, it does,” Michael’s tinny voice tells him. “Christ. You’re such a fucking emotional masochist.” Ashton sighs, and casts his gaze down to the hem of his shirt, picking at a loose thread.

“What the fuck would I even say?” he says. It’s not like he’s never envisioned it; a grand declaration of love - always returned by Luke, of course - but in his fantasies, it’s a certainty that Luke’s going to feel the same way, so there’s none of that gut-wrenching, stomach-rolling uncertainty, no bile rising in his throat, no clammy hands and dry mouth.

“The truth?” Michael suggests. Ashton rolls his eyes.

“Mike, I can’t just waltz up to Luke and tell him I’m in love with him,” he says.

“Worked for me,” Michael says, and Ashton can almost hear him shrugging.

“That’s different,” Ashton says, because it is. Michael’s not a massive fucking overthinker.

“Is it?” Michael says, a little shrewdly. “I didn’t know if Calum felt the same way. But what else was I gonna do, wait around the rest of my life wasting my time on him? I needed closure either way. Would’ve spent the rest of my life making myself miserable living off hope otherwise.” Ashton knows he’s right, knows from the way his stomach sinks and his heart speeds up, but hates it, wants to rationalise why he doesn’t need to tell Luke, why he shouldn’t. “You’re overthinking it,” Michael says into the silence, like he knows exactly what’s going through Ashton’s mind right now, and Ashton scowls.

“Right, fuck me for overthinking something that could end my career,” he hisses, gripping the phone tighter than necessary because his hands are a little cold and clammy now at the thought of having to actually stand in front of Luke and say the words I’m in love with you.

“You’re such a fucking drama queen,” Michael says, tutting.

“Are you insane?” Ashton demands, incensed, and this is good, this is safe. He can redirect all the discomfort and anxiety into righteous anger; he can handle that. That’s well-worn territory with him and Michael.

“I’m not doing this, Ash,” Michael says sensibly, because he knows Ashton far too well for Ashton’s liking. “You can’t keep running from your feelings the minute they get too heavy for you to bear. ‘S never gonna get any better if you’re not letting yourself process it. It doesn’t go away on its own.”

“I know,” Ashton says hopelessly, because he does, and it’s what he’s been trying to run from. He knows he can’t live in this limbo forever, but he can’t bring himself to take a step in either direction. “Fuck, Michael. I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You can,” Michael says, gentle, encouraging.

“It’d fuck everything up,” Ashton says.

“It won’t,” Michael says. “You’re both mature adults.” He pauses, and Ashton knows they’re thinking the same thing, and then he adds: “Okay, well. You’re a mature adult. I’ll drag Luke into maturity kicking and screaming.” Ashton can’t help but huff out a laugh at that, chest warming as he hears the meaning behind what Michael’s saying - I’ll fight your corner. I’ve got your back.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” Ashton says, biting his lip.

“Then at least you know,” Michael says. “And you can start moving on.” Ashton swallows, ignoring the pain of the lump in his throat.

“I don’t want to,” he says, and it comes out a little strangled.

“I know,” Michael says. Ashton waits for something else, for him to justify it, but there’s just staticky silence from Michael’s end of the line.

“That’s it?”

“What, you want a deep, motivational speech as to why you should tell him?” Michael says. “I’m not going to give you that, Ash. Do it or don’t, it’s up to you. But you’ll never be able to rest, never have your mind to yourself, until you do it.” Ashton exhales shakily.

“Yeah,” he says, and his voice cracks, because God, it’s fucking terrifying, thinking that he might have to face Luke and say the words I’m in love with you in order to get his own sanity back. “You’re right.”

“I know,” Michael says, and Ashton huffs out a laugh to cover the flutters of panic in his chest. “Can I go back to sleep now?” Ashton blinks, and nods.

“Yeah,” he says again, voice a little steadier this time. “Sorry.”

“‘S okay,” Michael says through a yawn, and Ashton has to stifle a yawn of his own. Christ, he’s actually fucking drained. Overthinking should qualify as a sport. “Love you. Not as much as I love Calum, though.”

“Arsehole,” Ashton says, rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Love you too. But not as much as I love Luke.”

“I’d fucking hope not,” Michael says. “Don’t want you to be fantasising about fucking me.” Ashton wrinkles his nose.

“I don’t want to fantasise about that either,” he says.

“So don’t.”

“I won’t.”

“Good,” Michael says, stifling a yawn. “Don’t fantasise about Calum, either.”

“Why the fuck would I fantasise about Calum?” Ashton wants to know.

“Hey,” Michael says, sounding a little affronted. “What the fuck are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying neither you nor Calum are exactly at the top of my fantasy list when Luke’s right there,” Ashton says.

“That’s fucking rude,” Michael tells him.

“What the fuck? You just told me-”

"Yeah, but on principle you should want to fantasise about us,” Michael interrupts. “You just aren’t allowed.” Ashton rolls his eyes.

“I’m not fantasising about anyone except Luke,” he says.

“I don’t want to know that.” Jesus Christ. Michael’s fucking impossible.

“Go to fucking sleep,” Ashton says, because arguing with Michael is a waste of time on the best of days, let alone at four in the fucking morning.

“I’ve been trying,” Michael says, and there’s rustling sounds as he gets to his feet. “Night, Ashton. Love you.”

“Night,” Ashton says, but Michael’s already hung up.

He plugs his phone in and rolls back over in bed, the emotional exhaustion starting to kick in, and he closes his eyes, ready to fall asleep, when from Luke’s room he hears a very, very clear-

“Night, Ash.”

Fuck.

taglist: @sadistmichael @callmeboatboy @clumsyclifford @angel-cal @tirednotflirting @cthofficial @tigerteeff @haikucal @queer-5sos @i-am-wierd-always @stupidfukimgspam @bloodyoathcal

if you’d like to be added to my taglist pls fill in this form!

#lashton #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5sos slash #thats probably the sneakiest britpop title i could possibly come up with #i'm actually dead proud of myself for that one #dithered about whether to put the line before in or not #but hopefully no one will read these tags and realise its britpop #lets be honest with ourselves am i going to post something with ZERO britpop references rn?#actually yes i am bc i did that with soulmate au #god my brand...who am i? letting the fucking team down #yes i've literally spent the entire time since answering that ask searching for a sneaky britpop lyric to put as the title #could have written a fkn sequel in that time but oh well!#i wonder if anyone actually reads these tags and is like bloody hell...glad i'm not in her brain #my tags are literally such an insight into how my mind works. or doesnt <3

34 notes · View notes

theholycovenantrpg · 3 years

Photo

CONGRATULATIONS, PHOEBE! YOU’VE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF SALOME.

Admin Rosey: This was incredibly difficult. Both applications were stunning and shined in the limelight - but there were these small details, Phoebe, that you included that had us absolutely captivated. Salome, I think, is a difficult character to encompass so wholly while not overlooking the details. But you managed to do that, to tie her all together while not putting her in a package. The application was such a joy to read from beginning to end - the way that you tied so many different characters into her, into her future. It was an absolute thrill to read because I was able to see so much while still being tantalized by possibilities. I can’t wait to see how Salome shines on the dash! Please create and send in your account, review the information on our CHECKLIST, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Welcome to the Holy Land!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Phoebe

Age | 22

Personal Pronouns | She/her

Activity Level | Pretty active (6/10?) due to a national lockdown, but I’m a postgrad student so some days are busier than others.

Timezone | GMT

Triggers | REMOVED

How did you find the group? | I check out the ‘new rpg’ tag a few times a year & your graphics and then everything drew me in

Current/Past RP Accounts | Masha Vetrova @ ProchnostRPG

IN CHARACTER

Character | SALOME

What drew you to this character? | Typically I tend to go for characters who have a fundamental moral alignment of ‘good’ (even if it’s been a bit corrupted) so at first I was really drawn to Gabriel/Abaddon/Isolde. I even brainstormed them a bit before moving onto the demon bios.

But then I read Salome’s bio, and I really couldn’t get her out of my mind. There is something so delicious about her, so dastardly poetic. In a way, she’s as pure of heart as many morally good characters - patient, steadfast, true to herself. It’s just that her heart is a blackened one. A nature so rotted that even eternal damnation in Hell’s Abyss was not enough. The only fitting destiny was a demonic one, and the wings tore out of her body as if they’d been there, dormant, all along.

I know the story of Salome (thanks Oscar Wilde) & I just adore the way in which the bio weaves the biblical story into this world and this character. Salome the Temptress, unflinching as she demands the head of John the Baptist and damns all around her to Hell. This one line in particular from Rosey really, really captured it all for me:

No, the minute her mortal heart stopped beating and she opened her eyes to the fires of Hell, there was only laughter to be heard – pouring from her lips as melodic as a lark’s song, a stark contrast to the wailing and grinding of teeth.

Salome feels young and charming and spoiled and light and warm and content and this image - her descending into Hell, disrupting it with her peals of laughter - sums it all up. She is arrogant and uninhibited with her sins plain for all to see. But she is also clever. She is a girl who dances with the dead; demon through and through. She lets them openly see it so that they do not think to look closer. For if they did, surely they would see Salome was more damned than they’d ever envisioned? See that the open delight she projects - the laughter and fevered dancing, - all distract from a mind capable of cold, calm strategy? See that her hands are beautiful because they are stained with the first blood of this new world?

…All of which is to say that Salome the Temptress has worked that tempting magic of hers on me too - hook, line and sinker.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | If it serves your guys’ plotting vision then absolutely! I’d just ask to write the death scene/have some say in the way it went down. (The person killing her off better be prepared for the fight of their lives).

FUTURE PLOT IDEAS

• (small) PLEASURES •

Grand plans and power grabs are all very well, but day to day (on the dash lol) Salome is ruled by small pleasures and indulgences. What was the point of forging this new world if not to luxuriate in it?

01. I’m very curious to see how her relations with all the other demons play out. Salome is by and large a solitary creature - the natural result of her arrogance - but I think there are some demons she favours more than others. I could see a potential friendship (or the lesser version of that bond) with ORIAS, for one. There were those who saw something akin to witchcraft in Salome too. There had been envy, when Orias was hailed the Original Witch, but even Salome has come to recognise the ungodly power that resides in them. They are one of the only creatures that Salome has any real respect for. She understands that there is value to learn in what Orias can teach.They call them the false prophet - it seems poetic that Salome is drawn to her. (So ! Much ! Potential ! Witchy ! Power !)

02. So too can I imagine Salome having a particular curiosity towards MAMMON. Hungry and dark and empty, Mammon is probably Salome’s demonic ideal. With mortal origins herself, they represent a different kind of demon – one she thinks is utterly beautiful. Their future ambitions could align, both with a deep, aching appetites, but I can also see her purely enjoying the unique company of them. Salome does not treat her ability with any real respect or caution; she sees the dead as a game. think she’d genuinely delight in Mammon mimicking her gift and the amusements that could follow. (Ok not to say I’m suggesting deal body party games but it’s very that)

03. Salome gets equal pleasure (if not a great deal more) from less-than-friendly relations. She pushes purely because other people’s irritation amuses her. I think her relationship with AZAZEL in particular could be very, very fun. Of all the demons, I can see Salome having a particularly petty dislike / jealousy of Azazel for a few many reasons.. A) they are both products of indulgence, daughters of parents (literally and figuratively) who spoiled them rotten. Similarities repel and all that. B) Azazel is part of the de facto royal family, favoured by JUDAS.. and DAMIEN .. and ABADDON .. and Salome has not ever handled that well. She watched on as they, along with the rest of hell, fell for her and thus a time-old grudge was born. C) Azazel forms part of the Holy Land’s rulership. A land that was won because of Salome (in her mind) and one she feels has rights of ownership too. I imagine that Salome genuinely despises that the role was given to Azazel of all demons. I - I just sense so many great opportunities for both bickering and battling.

04. Salome draws great pleasure from her own magnetism. Devotion has followed her throughout the stages of her life, but it too has come to wax and wane. It is there in BASTIEN though, and it’s one of the connections I’m most excited for. He satisfies her addiction, and in return she is both doting and cruel. There is some value in him politically, bu it’i more of a .. personal connection. That could change though. Or, perhaps a genuine fondness might develop, in the same way that other celestial beings seem to be fond of their animal companions. A muted form of possessiveness over his gaze and his wonderment (which may well manifest in Salome having a particular resentment towards EVANGELINE) . If he were to share out his devotion, or if it was curtailed by any harm coming to Bastien himself, Salome would not be happy. Perhaps his attentions have come to somewhat satiate her appetite and tentatively restrains her darkest needs - a fact that neither of them have realised. (!!!!!)

• (medium) OPPORTUNITIES •

05. There are some things she keeps to herself - at least for now. There’s a lot of potential for self-paras or connections with the wider RP plot. To me, Salome has something akin to true addiction inside of her. It was there from the moment of her mortal birth, and it worsened with each hit. Essentially, I think an inescapable plot point is that Salome is a lil’ bit bloodthirsty. I think this would largely be developed through my own musings and mortals who are just ‘extras’ to this RP, but I’d love to deal with the intricacies of Salome having to cover this habit. Maybe she continues to use others as scapegoats; maybe she chooses her victims with careful attention so that they go unnoticed; maybe she does it in such a way that implies the presence of a beast or daemonium.

( In fact, the concept of the DAEMONIUM is verrrrrrrrrry intriguing. Creates who inhabit corpses and do nothing but feed their hunger? Sounds like a character I know. This is a potential plot point that relies on your guys’ vision and some collaborative world-building, but I think there is definitely exciting potential to explore these creatures through Salome. Imagine the carnage of her trying (successfully or unsuccessfully) to out-possess them.)

06. I think Salome would take any opportunity to poison Infernum’s highest-ranking. This isn’t so much be her political ‘end-goal’, but an opportunity for some real entertainment. It would be a game, try and crack the kinship that exists among AZAZEL, JUDAS, DAMIEN and ABADDON; injecting a few words here, a few doubts there, and see if their loyalty lasts.. She knows Judas from a past life and has watched him oh so carefully overtheir many entwined centuries - I imagine she is a gnat to him, pushing all the right (and thus wrong) buttons. It would a sport to try and make his familial dynasty crumble. Perhaps she might attempt this by throwing doubt on to Abaddon in particular, whose aura contains a flatness that Salome cannot read. Salome doesn’t know of the goodness that lies in her, but perhaps she might find out. Regardless, I think Salome’s worst imaginable fate would be being locked in the Black Cells, unable to dance and revel in the world, so she harbours dislike for Abaddon anyway…

07. EPHEMERA is an opportunity that Salome had not anticipated. And let me tell you, boy do I adore this connection. It strikes me as a true clashing of teeth and spirits, but not as simple as one born from pure malice or hatred. Salome feels many things towards Ephemera, but she certainly doesn’t hate her - even if the ferocity between them implies otherwise sometimes. There’s a thin line between love and hate, as they say, though perhaps neither of those terms sum up Salome an Ephemera. It seems to be pure passion and temptation. I can’t say where this could lead without the thoughts of a possible Ephemera writer, but I’m sure it will be nothing short of explosive. I think this connection is the most Salome has ever felt towards another being, and that in itself is curious to her.

• (great) AMBITIONS •

The possible destinies of Salome. The following are all ways in which her story could play out, and all of them are quite dramatic. Who’s afraid of the big, bad plots….

08. Infernum technically has no throne. In order to thus claim it, perhaps one first has to be built? Salome would have no qualms choosing a side in another demonic cvil war. Why, if DAMIEN were to stake the claim of his birthright against JUDAS, he could count on Salome for support. If Judas were to live up to his title and betray the antichrist, he could count on Salome for support - if he got there before the other. Salome will happily help them consolidate a throne through bloodshed and betrayal. In fact, it will be her pleasure.

For through it all, Salome will be the demon who has thought to use MICHAEL. They are insufferable and righteous and (quite literally) archangel incarnate - really, if she had the chance, she knows that their blood would be the most utterly divine to spill - but they are useful. Undeniably powerful. Salome knows she must be careful here, but she enjoys the undisguised exasperation on their face. As if they have not yet thought to recognise the ambition that lies in both of them. If they helped her ascend to the throne of Infurnem, she would be a far more acquiescent to Caelum’s interests than the current leadership. Why? Because Salome would not act - would not even pretend to act - on behalf of demonic interests. If the best chance of her claiming ownership of the world depended on sharing it with Michael, then perhaps she would be willing.

09. But power can manifest in more than one way. She could follow such dreams, or she could become the world’s nightmares. And wouldn’t that be more indulgent? Where others hold power or peace as their prime ambition, Salome would get equal pleasure from the simple decay of all things. The world could rot and she would laugh - the dead are often better company than the living. Ultimately Salome would start another war without hesitation; she would sacrifice everything and everyone for the beautiful carnage of utter destruction. It had been so easy with the War of the Last Rites, but she had been disappointed when it ended in peace. That will not happen again; she will be ready next time. When all factions are suitably engaged, she will raise her own force and strike them all down together. — Such are her thoughts anyway. Thoughts that started developing when she met RYUK. To her, the power Ryuk holds is breathtaking. There is no other ability she desires quite as much. For if she were to contain both of their powers within herself, she would have dominion over a force so great that no living creature - mortal or immortal - could ever hope to defeat. The dead. It is a delicate strategy, but she has the patience for it. And if there was any who would spill the blood of a horseman just to see what happened, then it would surely be Salome.

10. Where there are mortals, there is faith. The relationship between Salome and the faith of the HUNDRED-EYED GOD intrigues me. In her mortal life, faith was an amusement. Its believers has been her playthings - perhaps they are again in this world. ISOLDE is as all prophets are; tempting. I think that Salome could potentially decide to join the faith – or give the impression to do so. Such a deceit would be fun and far from difficult - already she joins in on their rituals, her feet unable to stay away from any form of rhythmic movement, even ones more gentle than her usual tastes. A demon of relative influence, perhaps her faith would be welcomed amongst those most holy, perceived as a positive development in the faith’s recruitment. Perhaps she finds a currently unknown fellowship in the form of ESTIENNE, whose manipulation of the shadows surely speaks of some rot in his heart.

And all for one simple reason. Where there is faith, there are the faithful. Where there is the faithful, there is the potential for bloodshed so rich - so intoxicating - that she would play this long, patient game just to taste a singular drop. She has never been able to recreate the electrification of that first diabolical deed, when she claimed a saint’s head as her prize. She had danced and damned and thirsted ever since; the blood of an ALL-SEEING PRIESTESS might just quench such a need.

• (potential) DOWNFALLS •

Ah, but all of the above are just potential ideas. It is just as likely that Salome would be subject to some downfalls and some .. rude awakenings. I adore the fact that both MICHAEL and RYUK have such different perceptions of their connections. They are both far smarter than she gives credit. Michael is, ultimately, more powerful than Salome on more ways than one - they will surely outplay her as they have everyone, though she might be of some use to them too. In Ryuk, Salome has started a war she might live to regret - one she hasn’t even realised she’s fighting. She has perhaps been a little naive here, and it will be quite something when she realises.

There are other possible connections that could prove Salome’s downfall – or at least a be a hindrance. In my mind, it is GABRIEL, ZADKIEL and CAPHRIEL that she is most weary of. They each have a light to them that she does not care for, along with the arrogance present in all angels. I say in the following section that Salome has no fears; they represent the closest thing she has to possible concerns. I don’t think she yet knows any of them particularly well outside of the War, but she has thought of their powers. The latter two in particular harbour gifts that could, potentially, expose Salome, and thus she has developed a specific distaste for them. And of course, she probably finds them particularly fun to antagonise.

IN DEPTH

Driving Character Motivation | [TW: Implied suicide in section I ]

I think a large part of my attraction to Salome is that she isn’t really driven by an external force. Partly she is driven by the deep appetite within her (which I’ve mentioned more in other parts of this application) but I also think her motivations stem from her own intrinsic nature; she is pushed by her own heart towards ambitions that are mere extensions of her character. I think there are three central aspects of her character that best explain her motivations and actions: a complete lack of fear, an overwhelming self-adoration and a deep, petulant intolerance of monotony. Together, they’ve created a woman - a demon - amply motivated to do any of the above listed plot ideas.. One who simply does as she wants for no reason other than want itself. Below I’ve given three early examples (set in BP) of these traits taking root (and rot):

I • For what use is fear to those who are damned?

It was said that Jesus’ tomb lay empty. Through the wind Salome heard whispers of women who’d gone to mourn and found nothing - only stone and airwhere a pierced and bloodied body should have lain. It seemed the proclaimed child of God had evaded corporeal death yet again; that the words of the old, tiresome preacher whose head she once cradled had proved true. Their claims and their preachings were not false as her father had accused - but really, had not Salome always known that? Was it not she who had delivered John’s salvation, cast him up to his venerated Heaven? And as it happened - as both the head and the soul of John his body - had not she felt her own moment of pure, divine bliss?

It brought clarity; there was no hesitation in her now. She stood alone, looking out upon the depths of the Galilee Sea with an unconfined grin spread wide upon her face. She had known, always known, that the boredom of this life was only temporary. The adoration she received on earth had grown dull, she sought new, greater opportunities for her talents. There had existed a deep craving inside for as long as she could remember, one that had become increasingly difficult to satiate. It told her that her destiny lay outside of Heaven, that both the prophet and her father the king had been right to look upon her with fear. For if John and Jesus had ascended upwards, could she not leap down into her own descent? The idea of it felt so simple, so natural, so potentially powerful. Neither death nor the the promise of damnation brought her anything but intrigue. She thought of the wicked and the cruel, of the infernal depths to which she was bound, and felt only satisfied.

Mortal though she was, Salome was not afraid. Why should she fear her own destiny? Why should she fear for those she left behind? Fear had no place in a heart without hope. With a simple step, she threw herself into the icy water and waited to reach the blackest depths below.

II • For what use is love to those who are satisfied?

Where there was Salome there was laughter - her own, that was - sharp, loud and melodic. When she first opened her mouth it had sliced through Hell and turned all of its eyes onto her. Rightly so, for she she had laughed as she’d evaded Abaddon’s grasp, clawing herself out of the Abyss of mortal souls and claiming a rightful place in the depths of Hell. The Morningstar, sat above all, had not yet even spoken when Salome had started to dance.

She could feel Hell’s eyes on her, and what better way to greet such attentions than with that she did best. She had reaped rich rewards for it before, and she would do so again. A fleeting glance at her naked body showed her this realm had not dulled her beauty but made magnified it, her skin aglow with the fiery light of hellfire. And so Salome danced, feverishly but deliberately, losing herself in the spirit of the moment. What could anyone do but simply bask in the splendor of her new existence? As she raised her arms above her head, a pair of wings cut through her flesh and slowly tore out of her. Iridescent, they unfurled as if they too had felt the call of her movement.

A feast of celebration had followed. Salome could only laugh in delight as she looked upon demonic faces of adoration, gazes more alike than different to those she had received on earth. Seated at the left-hand of Lucifer himself, she had slotted into the natural order of Hell as if it had been her descent that had been prophesied on earth. How many in Hell, with all its angelic origins, had the blood of a true holy man on their hands? Perhaps just herself – and, she supposed, the man sat to the right of the Prince. Judas Iscariot. The Great Betrayer. A man she had known of in her mortality, a follower who’d wrought a downfall more entertaining than any Salome had otherwise witnessed. He looked on at her with a hard glint in his eyes and she merely smiled back - for Salome understood why. Here she was, a fellow mortal in Hell with infernal wings protruding from her back where Judas had none. It all made such perfect sense; Salome was truly different. Truly transcendent. Made and marked by forces darker then most of Hell could stand. In that moment (and all moments thereafter), Salome was acutely aware of the true power that resided within her, spilling out through her beauty, allure and wretched talents. Why, she was utterly glorious.

III • For what use is peace to those who are bored?

Eternity stretched out in front of her; memories of the wouldn’t fade. Of all the differences between immortal and mortal existence, it was only the nature of time that had ever frustrated her. To Salome, the centuries had passed by in both unfathomable speed and agonising monotony, the linearity of earth dead and gone. It seemed that in the face of an infinite future, even Hell could drag. It operated in a stasis that had begun to suffocate her and, gradually, had awakened once again an appetite that had only been temporally satiated. Lucifer dictated balance and moderation where Salome saw no reason for restraint. He had given her duties like none earth had ever dared, and she didn’t care to fulfil them. She had even grown tired of her puppetry, tired of dancing amongst such frustratingly passive bodies. There was, in a place of corruption, nobody left to actually corrupt; no opportunity to taste innocent or holy blood.

Over time she came to sense the quiet seeds of unrest in Hell, and she was gladdened by them. Once again a wicked smile graced her face, once again she twirled around the pits of Hell in anticipation. There was no better cure for boredom than chaos, and once she’d caught the scent of it her hunt could not be stopped. It had proven easy to have the whispers diverted and delivered to her ears - so many were under her spell, either terrified or infatuated. So Salome came to learn of plans of razing Hell against its master, ripping through worldly divides and claiming the earth she once lived on. At last - she could have wept from delight. And most entertaining of all, Salome had snatched the dice into her her hands.

How easy it would be to join the dissenters, to war with them against the order of Hell that had shackled her. How tempting it was, to dash their plans by raising her own blade to the Morningstar and plunging the world into carnage without warning. How fun, the thought of taking all she knew to Lucifer and laughing as he rained down revenge on the demons he had been foolish enough to trust. Impatient with monotony; patient in the face of action. Salome did not yet know what she would do, and she found utter delight in the potential of it all.

PARA SAMPLE

The Holy Land was not suited to revelry. It lacked the vitalityand decadent excessthat a true celebration required. And really, wasn’t this her domain? Nobody got more unadulterated pleasure from a celebration than Salome - she doubted that even the festivities of the Stygian Moon would be of renown without her inputs. This particular affair was proving even more tiresome than she’d foreseen. Every year she stands under the Triune Moon and watches as solemn vows are sworn; every year she wonders why they could not just be done so in private, sparing them all this tedium. She had said as much to Damien before as they had departed the comforts of the Black Palace, and had received little more than a scowl in response. But she knows her point has more merit than they’d care to admit. How long before these promises of harmony are exposed as a farce? At least that year promises some true entertainment.

Salome thinks all this as she watches the stage in front of her, eyes lazily switching between the three figures who stand upon it. The Sun, the Moon, the Stars; every pair of eyes in the sweeping crowd are trained on them. Salome can feel them. Or rather, she can’t feel the usual warmth of infatuated gazes on her own skin. Here she stood amongst hoards of mortals and beings more lowly than herself, and none were paying her their usual bouts of attention. The only thing that prevented a quiet tantrum was the knowledge that she was far from alone in feeling this agitation. Her stare flickered from the stage towards the figures of both Michael and Judas, and she could not help but smile. To eyes that had repeatedly examined them over centuries, the rigidity of their bodies betrayed them. She was far from the only one who felt the absence of centrality, and that, at least, brought her some pleasure.

Still, she only has so much patience for ceremonies not directed at her. Yet no sooner did she shift to exit the crowd than did words delivered on the stage give her pause. Azazel’s voice, suitably haughty, repeating the typical sentiments of the Holy Land. This was the ‘Age of Peace’, Salome hears her say. Only the ‘cooperation of all factions and the formation of the tridium’ had rendered them ‘triumphant against the heretics who would cast all into darkness.’ This time she cannot hold in the delicate laugh that ripples through her. If only the annual repetition of such statements made them true. If only they knew of the true origins of the War that brought this so-called peace, of where the credit should rightfully lie. Though she knows it would be foolish - more than foolish - Salome can think of nothing but how simple it would be to stand above all and confess. She’d let them savour the details of her sins and her glories. She would laugh as they wilted under the weight of her revelations.

‘I’ve never seen you look so engrossed off of the battlefield.’

Her imaginings are cut off by quiet words from behind her. She needs not turn to identify the voice of Ephemera, familiar as it has come to be. Salome had, of course, seen her across the crowd - when did her eyes start to automatically seek her out so? - but marked her presence as an occupation for later. That Ephemera sought her out first is not necessarily unexpected, but certainly thrilling. There is no other presence that can so easily bring Salome out of a petulant mood, just as there is no other who can so easily put her in one. But she has found that where there is Ephemera, there is entertainment to be had.

“You have not seen me do many things,” she replies easily, as if they had long been having this conversation, “though I do believe I’ve offered.” And she has, more than once, tried to entice her with offers of dancing and hunting and enjoying all the vices of the world they fought for. She turns her head slowly to meet the watchful gaze of her once fighting-partner, a smirk on her lips as she widens her eyes in faux-innocence. They are two alike; mortals once but mortals no more, the first of their kinds. She knows Ephemera will not rise to her bait within the presence of other Angels, which only heightens her simpering expression. Salome has no such qualms about the thoughts of her own kin; their talk excites her, their gossip only confirms how many pay her heed. She has found no simpler joy than that of walking into the Black Palace and leaving excited whispers in her wake.

“I’m sure you’ll agree that celebrating won wars is less fun than waging them’, she continues, amusement ringing clear through her voice as she returned her gage purposefully to the stage. “I asked Azazel if she might add some zeal - perhapsmake those hounds do some tricks - but she seems to have ignored my good wishes”. Salome can feel the rolling of Angelic eyes next to her without even looking. It was so easy, so predictable, and yet anything but boring. That was the real curiosity of Ephemera, so easy to reel in and yet so resistant to truly jumping off the edge. She seemed halfway caught between accepting Salome’s allure and running from it, and the resistance only increased her desire. “Though your one is the more dull, I believe. So earnest - it’s quite exhausting.”

It is clear that Ephemera is acting advisor and strategist rather than - what? Friend? Enemy? Something in between? - whichraised the question as to why she had approached her in the first place. She thinks to ask, but when she opens her mouth to do so the crowd erupts in an applause more loud than she thinks the show was worthy of. Still, she brings her own hands together for the sheer relief that it is finally over. Her feet ache from standing bored for so long, her wings want to stretch open and wide. She wonders if a large enough quantity of alcohol might loosen Ephemera a little, but when she turns to declare this she finds that her companion has disappeared in the movement of so many people. A pity, but no real matter. She has never needed the company of others to create her own sport.

EXTRAS

[ My (WIP) pinterest for Salome can be found here. ]

Salome keeps no animal companion, for she has never felt much love for the nature of the earth. She finds it amusing that some Angels and Demons belittle themselves by keeping one. However, it is not an uncommon sight to see Salome walking with crows flying above her. Only on closer inspection would one realise those animals are but corpses, a puppetry Salome (alone) finds humorous.

Like all parts of herself, she harbours great love for her wings, and not only for the damnation that they represent. They are formed of what resembles a netting of fine, golden spider’s web. They seem to constantly change in the light, appearing to be more transparent than they are solid. Regal and beautiful, they are as Salome sees herself.

She is a fierce fighter and a connoisseur of bloodshed. Her weapon of choice is a trailing point blade, forged on the day of her arrival in Hell. She uses it exclusively for more.. intimate situations, and favours instead a simple longsword on the battlefield. She is however, proficient with most weaponry, as the corpses she can make fight use the same weapons they died wielding against her.

Though Infernum is the home she helped carve out, Salome spends a great deal of time in Sanctus Terra and travels to Caelum whenever the opportunity presents itself. Both locations amplify an itch deep within her soul, worsening her desire and thereby bringing greater satisfaction when she finally acts on the urge. She has not spilled any angelic blood in Caelum, though the temptation is strong, for she knows Michael has become astute to her presence. She has left a fair few victims in Sanctus Terra, a pursuit which has become less satisfying overtime. Still, Salome is careful. For all their talk of kinship, she is not sure that her fellow demons would refrain from locking her in the Black Cells if they had just cause.

[ aaaaaaand I leave you with the last verse of ‘Salome’, a poem by Mary Lamb. I honestly can’t describe it as anything over then *chef’s kiss*. I don’t know if Rosey read this when she was writing Salome’s bio, but I thought the writing style and tone and vibe and all beautifully mirrored each other?? Stunning. On that note, regardless of whether of not you think I’m right for Salome, thank you for the obvious amount of time/thought you’ve all put into this because it’s been really (really) fun to explore. ]

When painters would by art express Beauty in unloveliness, Thee, Herodias’ daughter, thee, They fittest subject take to be. They give thy form and features grace; But ever in they beauteous face They shew a steadfast cruel gaze, An eye unpitying; and amaze In all beholders deep they mark, That thou betrayest not one spark Of feeling for the ruthless deed, That did thy praiseful dance succeed. For on the head they make you look, As if a sullen joy you took, A cruel triumph, wicked pride, That for your sport a saint had died.

#accepted #accepted: salome

3 notes · View notes

soft-hanlon · 4 years

Text

Here I Am, With Arms Unfolding

note: this is my side account, i wanted to post this to my main ( @s-onora ), but i’m having problems with that account right now but i’ll hopefully have posted this to my main within the next few days! so this fic is a gift to @the-antman for the @it-fandom-exchange event! i hope i was able to create something domestic and enjoyable to read!

3k words / fix-it fic / reddie / mentions of stanpat

read on ao3

"What's goin' on in that funny head of yours?" Eddie moves his thumb across Richie's forehead, just like he's touchin' the silk at the market back in New York, all delicate n' gentle, revelling in the sensation.

Richie looks up at him from where he lays in the grass with a grin, toothier than any Eddie's seen on Richie's mouth since they arrived back in this town n' it's reminiscent of a specific expression he remembers from his childhood that is just so Richie—he's reminded of ice cream dripping over dainty fingers n' lips chapped from the dry heat, sticky with candy.

"Just a bit sore between the ears, Eds." He knocks the side of his head comically n' Eddie slides his palm beneath Richie's head, as he lifts it into his lap. It's better that Richie rests his head in Eddie's lap rather than on the grass, Eddie thinks, it's more comfortable—even if Eddie knows that the ache in Richie's head isn't physical.

Eddie pets Richie's hair back from his forehead, n' watches his milky skin catch the warmth of the July sun, "I know, 'Chie, wanna talk about it?" Richie cacchinates, n' thinks on the pet name, he thinks warmly of it—maybe it's one Eddie might've used in their teens, but it's still fuzzy.

"Do you think we'll forget this time?" The question lingers in the air, in Eddie's ears, for several moments as he moves his finger to stroke over the bridge of Richie's nose. Richie goes cross-eyed trying to watch his finger n' Eddie laughs, a real laugh, n' realises that he doesn't remember the last time he felt honestly happy enough to do so—not with Ma, not with Marty, not with his work friends. "I don't want to forget." Richie murmurs afterwards, azure irises masked over by his eyelids.

"I don't want to forget either, an' I have a feeling we won't." Eddie rests his head back against the trunk of the tree, doesn't stop stroking Richie's face n' petting his hair in a way that feels so specifically intimate, in a way he's never done before. "Hopefully, we'll remember the good things an' eventually the pain will fade. We were forced apart an' into unhappy lives for nearly three decades, an' I don't know about the others but I could always feel it—I always felt this weight on my chest, of knowing that something wasn't right."

"I felt it, too."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Since leaving this shithole the first time, I've been living in LA, I've got a radio show n' a comedy gig on the side n' even though I love doing those things it's never felt like enough, even though it's the life I've always wanted. I thought there was something wrong with me." Richie shrugs, "It never even occurred to me that I couldn't remember where I'd grown up."

"I was always happiest with you guys. I think all of my memories are back now since we've been here for a month, an' I hope I can keep them when we leave." Richie blows a lock of hair out of his own eyes n' sits up, crossing his legs 'in a basket', directly facing Eddie. It seems his hyper energy has returned after a few hours of sitting out here in perfect serenity.

"All you needed was to see your old pal Richie!" Richie dives into an impression of an old radio announcer, "Lean, one-armed-machine Eddie Kaspbrak absolutely brand new after saucy reunion with hot-shot Richie Tozier!" He boops Eddie's nose, watching the blood rush into his cheeks as he giggles coyly.

"Maybe." Eddie shrugs slightly, smiling in Richie's direction. Richie composes himself a little, n' places a tentative hand on Eddie's knee, keeping it strictly in one place so that Eddie doesn't end up uncomfortable.

"Listen, Eds, I..." Richie sighs, looking to Eddie's eyes through the blond's round spectacles. "I've spent my whole adult life wanting something that I wasn't sure I could really have. I've been looking for fellas since I moved to California on the down-low n' I don't know... I could never really find someone I wanted n' I think I realised why when we came back here."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, pushing his glasses up a little. He just smiles warmly, doesn't comment on the fact that Richie's maybe just come out to him. "You can tell me, if you want."

Richie sighs, trailing his finger across Eddie's knee n' back to where he started, glancing up at him. He gives an encouraging nod, n' Richie wonders briefly how he ever could have forgotten him. "Don't wanna make you all jittery, Eds, ya probably won't like what I have to say."

"It's okay, say it anyway." Eddie shakes his head, still beaming, "I don't think you can say anything that'll scare me, not after everything we've seen."

Richie opens his mouth, but decides to shut it again. He begins tapping his finger against Eddie's knee subconsciously, n' Eddie brings his only hand to rest on top of Richie's, gently bringing his tapping to a halt. Richie considers for a moment, n' then turns his hand over so his palm slides against Eddie's. The blond's eyebrows shoot up past his dandelion curls, but he doesn't move his hand, waiting for Richie to do something else.

"Eds..."

"Yeah, Rich?" His voice is soft like Richie's cotton bed sheets at home, Richie wants to wrap himself up in the comfort of it to avoid the cumbersome weight of the conversation most likely following. But Eddie's still looking at him, a rhapsodic smile slowly forming over his lips, Richie's not sure it's even there at first. N' suddenly, there's a hand on his forearm, his bicep, his shoulder, his neck, n' then he's being kissed on the mouth. It's sweet-tempered n' careful n' once the initial shock wears off, Richie thinks it makes sense. Eddie's always been so brave, willing to take risks even if the outcome may not be in his favour. He's always been gentle, too—Richie often wondered, as a teen, if Eddie kissed with as much solicitude as he treated his friends with.

Richie doesn't have a lot of time to return Eddie's affections before the man in question lets their lips depart from each other with a soft click, n' his hand slips from Richie's jaw. "M' sorry if that was too forward, it just seemed like that's where you were going an' needed a bit of help." Eddie pushes his glasses up from where they'd slid down his nose, looking a little blissed out.

"Leave with me. Come to California."

"California? You want me to go with you?"

Richie clasps Eddie's hand in both of his own, squeezing it gently, "Please, Eds, come live with me, I don't want to be apart from you again. I have so much space, a spare bedroom if you want it. You'd live like a king, I promise."

Eddie huffs out a soft, astonished laugh, "Really? Rich, I couldn't invade your life like that, it sounds like a huge change for you. Even then, I'm the owner of a company in New York."

"You could move your company to Los Angeles, I can get in touch with someone who can help with the details. Besides, there's plenty of celebrities looking for limos in LA. I want you there, Eds." Richie sighs softly, "Down in the cistern, I thought you were going to die. In the hospital, when you wouldn't wake up for hours, it was the worst I've ever felt. I don't want to feel like that again. So if you'd like to, I want you to live with me."

"Okay... okay, I'll go with you." This time, it's Richie who goes in for a kiss. He cups Eddie's face in his hands n' brings their lips together, making sure to be gentle. He feels Eddie beaming against his mouth, n' he thinks this is maybe the greatest he's ever felt in his life. The way he feels, it's warm n' glowing n' fuzzy n' he knows that this is what he's wanted his entire life. Ever since the summers of his youth, when he was running free, full of July sunshine and orange pulp, n' his hand was in that of another's, the same hand holding onto his at this very moment.

"You sure? You really want to come with me?" Richie asks when they part, cupping his hand under Eddie's elbow n' leaving the other on Eddie's face.

"Being back here, it's made me realise I don't wanna be in New York, I don't belong with Myra. I don't think I was really sure who I did belong with until, well, right now," Eddie smiles coyly, "but now that I know, it makes sense—you were always different to me." Richie grins, sliding his hand up to drape over the back of Eddie's so that he can lean in n' kiss the skin on the inside of his wrist. "Jeez, Rich, you're gonna make me go bananas."

That comment receives him a gently pinch of the cheek n' an exclamation of, "Cute, cute, cute!" Eddie doesn't pull away like he used to, embarrassed, n' instead just laughs, his cheeks warming fast. Richie's face softens, he looks so pleased that he was able to make Eddie laugh. He cups Eddie's face in his hands, turning his head a little so he can press a kiss to the blond's cheekbone.

"Your moustache tickles!" Eddie giggles light and airy, snorting quietly n' gasping out of surprise when he does. He whines, covering his flushing face with two hands, obviously embarrassed. Richie's eyes light up, and he gently pries Eddie's hands away from his face, grinning.

"Oh, that's so cute, Eds, I forgot you do that." Richie realises with a pang that he's missed that noise all this time. He remembers teasing Eddie gently for it in their childhood, n' kissing his cheek when his face turned red n' he pouted at Richie's words.

"Okay, Rich, let's go back to the townhouse before I explode." Eddie pats his own cheeks in what Richie assumes is some sort of attempt to rid himself of the redness in his face. The taller of the two stands, helping Eddie up n' letting his large hands come to rest on Eddie's waist, making his body look much more dainty. The blond squeaks as Richie presses him back against the tree, leaning in for another kiss. Eddie accepts it without a problem anyway, laughing into Richie's mouth when Richie tugs gently on his suspenders to pull him just that bit closer.

"Sorry, Eds, jus' wanted one more before we had to go back to the losers." Richie murmurs, n' Eddie softens a little more if that's even possible, kisses the corner of his mouth, then clicks their lips back into place together for a brief moment. "You're swell." Richie sighs, smiling all dopey n' euphoric-like.

"You know I think you are, too." Eddie squeezes Richie's shoulder, hand sliding upwards to cup the side of his neck. Richie loves Eddie's voice, thinks that if it were a shape, it'd be something with gentle curves. "Now, the losers are probably expecting us to be back soon, we've been away for hours. C'mon." Richie finally lets go of Eddie's suspenders and clasps his hand around the other's, nearly engulfing it.

They walk back to the townhouse, not in any sort of rush, just enjoying one another's company until they have to face their friends again n' finally separate their hands. "You wanna maybe... spend the night with me?" Eddie asks as they approach the townhouse, "I'm not expecting anything—I jus'... I really liked spending time with you this way." He adds quickly, realising how it might sound.

Richie chuckles, pinching Eddie's cheek, "Of course, my love, I would enjoy nothing more." He brings Eddie's hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles n' slowly, reluctantly, letting go of it. Eddie gives him a bitter-sweet, understanding smile, n' they make their way inside the town house, ready to face their friends again.

They're welcomed back with smiles n' alcohol from behind the bar that no one ever tended to. They talk into the small hours of the night, reminiscing on their childhoods together, times when they weren't being tormented by a murderous clown—Richie and Eddie sparing soft glances towards each other when no one's looking. Slowly, they all start to retreat back to their rooms one by one, until only Stan, Eddie and Richie are left.

"Alright, I think it's time for me to go to bed. I have to make some calls which'll probably take some time." Eddie tells them softly, standing up from the sofa, n' setting his almost empty glass of white wine down on the bar. "I'll see you tomorrow, g'night."

Richie watches him walk up the stairs, disappearing around the corner before turning back to Stan, who's been watching him from behind his glass, eyebrow raised. "What's up, Staniel?"

"Nothing." Stan blows one of his curls out of his eyes, sipping at his wine n' waving him off. "Can I ask you something?"

Richie grins, n' it spreads far enough to reach his eyes, "Well, sure you can, what's up?"

"When we all leave Derry, are you planning on going back to California alone?"

Richie's brow furrows, "I'm not sure I follow, Stanny."

"Come on, Richie. I'm not as oblivious as the others, give me some credit here." Richie chews at the inside of his lip, averting his eyes. "Listen, we don't have to talk about it now, or ever, if that's what you want. But I think whatever it is you have with Eddie, you should pursue it. I don't know how long you've felt this way, but I'm guessing it's been a really long time." His friend doesn't say anything, just sighs n' nods slowly. "You deserve a win right now, it's been rough being back here."

"Really?"

"Of course. I love Patty more than I've ever loved someone before, I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have her. You should be able to openly say that about whoever you love, too." Stan simpers, standing from his chair, "I'm going to get some sleep, and you're going to go an’ see Eddie because, my God, it's been physically painfully watching you too make sappy eyes at each other all night."

"Alright, Staniel, I will." Richie chuckles, shaking his head at his words, "Could you maybe do me a favour? I wouldn't usually ask you to keep things from the other losers, but would it be okay if you didn't tell them about this? Me n' Eds, we're not ready for that."

"Yeah, don't worry, Richie. I wouldn't say anything regardless." Stan pats Richie's shoulder, "I'll see you in the morning."

"G'night, Stan." Richie waits until Stan makes his way upstairs n' disappears around the corner to retreat to his room for night before quietly jogging up the stairs so that none of the losers peek out of their rooms to catch him sneaking into Eddie's room. He knocks softly against the wood n' he only has to wait for a moment before Eddie opens the door, phone pressed between his ear n' his shoulder, a smile growing on his mouth when he sees that it's Richie. He opens the door and motions for him to come in n’ sit down. He's already changed into his pyjamas, n’ he crosses the room to his suitcase, lifting out a pair of sweatpants n' turning them around to offer to Richie. He's muttering quietly into the phone as he does so, clearly stressed by whatever the person on the other end of the line is saying.

He turns away while Richie changes out of his clothes n' into the sweatpants; they're a little snug, but he'll take them over having to go back to his room to change. Once he's changed, Eddie comes back to him, n' climbs under the bed comforter, motioning for Richie to join him. "I know, Myra, I'm sorry. But you know that staying together would be unfair to both of us." He sighs, voice quiet, almost guilty.

It finally dawns on Richie, n' so he slowly lays down next to Eddie, wraps his arms around him. He presses his mouth against Eddie's temple, rubbing soothing fingers over Eddie's bicep. "Please, listen to me, Marty. I don't love you the way I'm supposed to, I can't lie to you or myself anymore, we can't be together. I'll explain myself tomorrow, you can have whatever you want when we separate, but I won't be coming back home to stay. It's really late, I'm going to get some sleep and you should, too. I'll call you again tomorrow." There's a few moments where he doesn't speak, just listens to whatever his soon-to-be ex-wife says, n' then hangs up the phone, dropping it onto the bedside table n' dropping his head back against Richie's arm, sighing.

"Y'alright, Eds?" Richie whispers, tightening his arms around Eddie's torso. Eddie lets him, the frown lines on his face finally smoothing out as Richie pulls the comforter up and over their shoulders, keeping them warm.

"Yeah, I'm okay, Rich. Myra's just a little hard to shake, that's all." He tells him under his breath, moving to wrap his arm around Richie, too, finally feeling the aching flood out of himself. "I'll deal with it, tomorrow, I jus' wanna sleep right now, is that okay?"

"Of course, it's okay, my love. I'll be here with you tomorrow, an' I'll give you as many cuddles as you need and want." Richie chuckles, pressing his fingers gently into Eddie's side, eliciting a giggle from him, light n' airy n' euphoric. Eddie grabs his hand to stop him, but ultimately keeps his hand there, tilting his head up to kiss him.

"Thank you, Rich, being back here's been... a little crazy, but I'm glad we all came back. I'm glad we're together again." The blond yawns, tucking his head into Richie's pale neck, his slow breaths tickling Richie's neck, but he doesn't mind; it's a reminder that Eddie's here, breathing, alive."

"Me too, Eds, me too."

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #blonde eddie #fix it fic #stanpat #stan uris #patricia blum #reddie oneshot #it 1990 #it 2017 #it 2019 #it stephen king

37 notes · View notes