#with the main character insistent on getting back what he lost

[dissociativewriter]

Unnatural Affinity- Part 2

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: 2.8k

cw: angst but not too heavy this time, allusions to self harm, questioning of worth i guess?, reader wonders if she’s supposed to be there and what’s going on, kinda awkward interactions tbh, lots of confusion; not proofread

Synopsis: You soon find yourself filling in the role of Em’s friend and roommate, and try to fit into your new life and new (?) job at the Hunter’s Association. At lunch break, you and Em eat lunch with Xavier only to find some… odd behavior from him.

author’s note: I really need to be updating my Once Upon Another Time PoTo x LaDS series but this has taken all my inspiration :( i feel like this is kinda weak but it has some good lines. i don’t know how to write xavier so ill try to figure that out before i write more of him

tag list: @animegamerfox @ixloom819 @magennta09 @an-ever-angry-bi @corvid007

link to part 1

Em certainly knew how to hold a conversation, you quickly realized.

She was the exact opposite of you. Where you were quiet and reserved, she was loud and outgoing. She could talk to anyone, and it seemed as though she held all the energy in any room she entered.

That wasn’t a bad thing, of course. You almost envied her for it, the way she could so easily navigate social situations. She was charming and witty where you were shy and sarcastic. It was far from a bad thing, it was just something you weren’t used to.

And why would you be?

This is the life of the Main Character.

“So, anyways, I was trying to get him to switch with me so I could have a turn, but he insisted that he keep playing!” Em was complaining about one of the men wrapped around her finger, and you had honestly lost track of which one she was talking about now. For having five objectively attractive men practically at her feet, she certainly didn’t appreciate them all that much. “He said he’d use his Evol and it’d be fine, but then he still missed!” Her expression was exaggerated, her pitch rising as she kept talking. A small pout formed on her lips. “All that to say, we didn’t get a plushie,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry, who was this again?” You decided to just bite the bullet. You’d learned that Em was aware she could talk fast sometimes and skip out on details, so asking for clarification wasn’t that anxiety-inducing anymore.

“My friend Xavier. He’s a hunter, you might have seen him? Silver-white hair, big, blue eyes, tall, really quiet?” Em cocked her head.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve… seen him around.” You nodded. You couldn’t exactly explain he was a Love Interest in the only game you played daily.

“Yeah, it’s hard not to notice him. I think most people in the Association have at least heard his name, even if they haven’t seen him.” Em suddenly stopped, grabbing your arm and pointing to a small shop with her other hand. “That shop looks so cute! We have to go there.”

You didn’t argue, simply following her lead like a lamb as she guided you to the store. Another thing you’d realized: Em was used to getting what she wanted. But she was never rude or entitled about it. No, that’d be too negative for a Main Character. She could be a bit bratty at times, however, a trait often showed in memories with Sylus or Caleb. Clearly, though, this wasn’t something she only did with them. You’d fallen victim to her pouts, puppy-dog eyes, and guilt-tripping in the mere three hours you’d been together.

Despite all this, your differences, your slight annoyances, your envy, you’d managed to become somewhat comfortable around Em. Maybe it was her Evol helping her resonate with everyone, but it’s like she just knew how to make people like her and be comfortable. You weren’t sure how you felt about it. She couldn’t read you and your emotions, something you were thankful for, but she was clawing at the walls you’d put up defiantly, like the kitten Sylus so often compared her to.

After a few stops at a couple more shops, you two finally headed back to your apartment. You were filled with some kind of rotten eagerness. A person’s home can so easily show their secrets: their struggles, interests, and happiness. You wanted to see how you lived in this life. You wanted to see if it really was better than what you’d had before.

You wanted to see if what you were losing when you entered this world was really worth missing.

The apartment was… nice. Like the rest of Linkon, it was sleek and innovative. You recognized a lot of it from the screenshots in the back of the main storyline or memories, but there was something unnerving about the whole place. It reminded you of Em’s eyes. Pretty at the first glance but lacking substance when you look further.

There were a few things here and there that weren’t in the original art of her apartment. A stack of books here, an extra pair of shoes there; Your mark was evident. You weren’t just shoved to the side to make room for the main character. You were allowed to self-express in your own (new?) home.

“Why do you look so shocked? I mean, I know I straightened up, but it wasn’t that messy before,” Em laughed.

“Nothing… just thinking.” You shook your head. “It’s not important.” Em cocked her head but didn’t say anything more.

You hovered in the entryway for a moment after kicking your shoes off, taking it all in. Em stayed in the living room, scrolling her phone as she laid sprawled on the couch. Then, as if your body knew what your mind did not, you entered what you could only assume was your room, dropping your tote bag in the chair in the corner and shrugging off your jacket. You performed what felt like second-nature, like your body remembered this life where your mind didn’t. It seemed like force of habit, so you could only wonder if adapting to this new world would really be all that difficult.

“I’m going to sleep!” Em yelled outside your door. “You should soon. We’ve got to get back the Association tomorrow and I just know Jenna’s going to overload everyone with work after that whole issue in Skyhaven.”

Habit was a funny thing.

It was as if some things didn’t need a second thought, just something you did because your body knew to.

But how did your body know your exact routine in this life? There was nothing inexperienced about any of it. You didn’t bump into any furniture, didn’t look for where your shirts were kept for twenty minutes, didn’t question anything.

What was going on here?

You grabbed a bag you didn’t even know existed before and a travel mug from the counter before leaving with Em. This was routine, you realized, but whose?

As you were leaving the apartment building, Em turned around, zeroing in on a specific window. You curiously followed her gaze, only to find the curtains drawn.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

Em’s gaze suddenly snapped back to your own, as if she forgot you were there next to her. “Oh! I was just going to see if Xavier was leaving too and let him walk with us.” She laughed. “Of course, knowing him, he’s probably still asleep!”

I didn’t think Xavier usually went to the Association, you thought. Didn’t he just take missions without showing up?

What else is different?

You shrugged. “We can wait for him, if you want,” you offered. You didn’t know if you really should be interacting with any of the Love Interests, but if you both worked at the Hunter’s Association, you couldn’t really avoid Xavier.

You couldn’t change things that much anyway, right?

“No, it’s fine.” Em shook her head. “Let’s just go. I have a meeting with Jenna first thing and I do not need to be late again,” she groaned.

With bright lights and wide windows, the Hunter’s Association certainly left no stone unturned. There were no shadows to hide in, no darkened corners to find refuge, not even a closet to hide the skeletons you knew the Association had.

You subconsciously adjusted the tote bag on your shoulder, feeling the weight of your laptop and the folders containing God(Astra?)-knows-what. You’d tossed your copy of Frankenstein in before you left, too. You didn’t know why. It wasn’t even your favorite book, but it was something real. The annotations were fragments of another life. A life where you hadn’t been happy, so why did you find yourself missing it so much?

Your hands itched at your thighs again, feeling the healing cuts rub against the fabric of your pants.

“Well, I’m gonna go.” Em’s voice, bright like the Association, broke you from your thoughts. “Say hi to Nero for me!” You nodded and returned her wave as she walked away.

Wait.

Nero?

What did he do…? You wish you had the guide from the game giving you descriptions on everyone and everywhere. What did they say about him? He liked Wanderers… and didn’t he have social anxiety?

Your feet took your where your mind couldn’t and you saw Nero sitting at a slightly cluttered desk with an empty one directly across from him.

His little portrait in-game did not do him justice. He was honestly cute, especially with his slightly oversized glasses. He was shy, sure, giving you a weak wave of acknowledgement, but he was by no means lacking confidence. He dodged eye contact, but his shoulders were back and his posture straight. You could tell he was confident in himself, just not in others when it came to socializing.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, almost unsure. “I left a report on your desk for you to read over… just, whenever you have time!” he quickly clarified, as if he didn’t want to put unnecessary pressure on you.

“Alright, Nero,” you smiled, your grin only growing as he glanced away.

You quickly fell into a rhythm after getting settled at your desk. Nero was in data analysis, you finally remembered, which meant you were, too. At least, in the same department. You had a different job from Nero, compiling and proofreading all of the information from the reports. It could be confusing here and there, especially trying to decode any shorthand used or even just some messy scrawl, but it was overall easy work.

Now you understand why Em had mentioned you helping her by giving data. You had access to all the data that went through the Association. Even what they hid from the Hunters.

In a world where knowledge was the only thing you had, this realization held unimaginable power.

Between what you knew about a few characters from the game and what you could learn from all these reports, it didn’t seem like you’d be scrambling for some footing.

You and Nero fell into a rhythm, too. He would complete his reports, pass them over to your desk, where you would edit and transfer into the database. Not many words were exchanged, maybe a quick “here” or “thanks” muttered occasionally. With such a loud life next to Em, it was nice to find these quiet moments of reprieve with him.

A few hours passed quickly before the clock hit 1:30. You straightened up your pile of reports before rising from your chair. “Nero? Aren’t you going to lunch?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I’ll just stay here for my break. You have a fun time, though.” He gave a weak smile.

“Alright, if you insist…”

Em met you at the entrance to the Association, a tall blond in tow. “Hey!” she exclaimed as soon as she saw you. “I wanted to introduce you to Xavier since you said you’d never met, so I thought, why don’t we all get lunch so you two can properly meet!” She grinned widely, quickly glancing between both of you.

You gave a polite nod and introduction to Xavier, not expecting much from him. He never paid much attention to anyone beyond Em, you knew, and you didn’t want to incite any unnecessary jealousy if he thought you two were too close. You were roommates, after all, and you’d seen Xavier get jealous over only a neighbor.

You didn’t think his jealousy would stop at only men, either.

To your surprise, however, he grabbed your hand, giving you a chaste kiss on the top of it and a small smile. “Nice to meet you,” he murmured.

Okay, what?

You hadn’t expected him to be rude; he would never be rude to someone important to Em. But this was a bit kinder than you’d expected. Just a bit.

You, Xavier, and Em left the Association, walking down the street after Em proposed some hotpot. She was slightly ahead of you and Xavier, extremely enthusiastic compared to your relaxed pace. You thought it odd that Xavier had stayed back with you instead of hovering next to Em, but what was odder was the hand ghosting at the small of your back.

This was a comfortable motion, maybe not practiced, but definitely not awkward. You felt his eyes on you as you kept looking forward, his chin tilted up as he looked at you through his bottom lashes. He was searching for something. You could feel it, though his face betrayed nothing.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was just as confused as you were with the amount of attention he was giving you compared to Em.

Hotpot was nice, if a little chaotic. Em and Xavier sat together in a booth, with you across from them in a chair. You were directly across from Xavier, and you noticed him watching you closely as the meats and vegetables cooked. There were even a few times when Em had to frantically tap him to get his attention and say it was done.

Conversation ended up flowing easily between the three of you, once you got settled. You and Xavier were putting in as much as Em, something extremely unusual for the both of you. Right now, Em was in the middle of telling of an interaction with a civilian during a mission, which was apparently so funny that she couldn’t breathe for a few minutes before beginning.

“He kept insisting that he be let past, like he knew what was going on!” She howled with laughter. “I said, sir, you don’t wanna be involved in that and he just held his hand up and said how can you know that, I’ll do as I please! Obviously, he took two steps, realized what was happening, and got out of there as fast as possible. Honestly, I don’t know what people are thinking sometimes.” Em wiped the stray tears from her eyes.

“Wait,” you chuckled. “So he was just like: ‘oh i can do this, i’m better than a trained hunter, step aside little girl’?” You raised your hand, the back of it facing you, just as Em had done to get your point across. Em didn’t say anything, merely laughing as she nodded. You laughed, too, keeping your hand raised although it faltered.

Xavier, who had completely dissociated for the entire story, snapped back into focus. He zeroed in on your outstretched hand, immediately drawing a conclusion you weren’t sure how he reached.

“Mind if you borrow my hand?” he asked, his brows slightly furrowed. He leaned forward a little, raising his own hand. “…Like this?” He tapped his hand against yours in a weak high-five.

Watching your hand falter, out of sheer confusion and shock for how this was playing out, a slight frown grew on his face. “It seems you had something else in mind.” He shook his head, his lips now curling up at the ends. He quickly entwined his fingers with your own, holding your hand tightly. “Can I borrow your hand, then?”

Your mouth was slightly agape. He was supposed to be acting all cute like this with Em, not with you!

“Is this what you call borrowing?” Xavier chuckled as he released your hand.

You stared at him, barely noticing Em glancing between you both. A frown was playing on her lips, and she shifted closer to Xavier. You watched him closely as he absentmindedly chewed his food. You were trying to figure out why he did that.

Why did it feel so familiar?

What was it so comfortable?

You figured it out later.

Finally, after a few more hours the Association and a quick dinner back at the apartment where Em was uncharacteristically quiet, you figured it out.

It was a Relax Time in the game. One of those little interactions you unlocked as Affinity increased. It was identical down to the dialogue. Except, those were always little couple-y moments shared between the MC and her Love Interest in Destiny Cafe, always adorable, always invoking your somber envy.

So why was Xavier doing it with you?

You didn’t think Em liked it much either. She wasn’t bitter about it, you could tell, just… confused. She isn’t officially dating any of the Love Interests as of now considering just the Main Story has happened, but it’s still odd for any of them to be doing something remotely romantic with anyone, man or woman.

You just hoped you wouldn’t run into any of the other men. Who knows what that could lead to?

You didn’t know what exactly was going on, or how you could deal with it, but you knew one thing: Something was wrong.

Maybe it’s your fault. Maybe you’re not supposed to be here. Maybe your very presence is throwing everything off-kilter.

In a game so based around Fate, unexpected events don’t seem very welcome.

And what were you, if not unexpected?

comments and reblogs appreciated! <3

masterlist

[superhoeva]

𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 (𝟏) - 𝐦. 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 | i swear he (and this entire cast of characters) is eating my brain. i no longer sleep. i only think of them <3

☆ huuuge bill withers fan. his album “just as i am” came around out before a few years before he was born but it was one of the first records he ever owned. listening to it now makes him feel like a kid again, and he needs that sometimes.

☆ (you even came home one day and found robby rocking his head to “ain’t no sunshine,” completely lost in the music, and trying to sing along with all 27 of the i knows after the chorus.)

☆ speaking of, he has a pretty decent singing voice. can also carry a tune on an old guitar that stays in his closet if it’s simple enough.

☆ has an open mouth, dad snore if he sleeps on his back.

☆ loves slow-paced films. they’re the total opposite of his usual day-to-day. think tarkovsky or ozu.

☆ doesn’t watch a lot of horror films, but his favorite is night of the living dead from ‘68. the main character ben really reminds him of dr. adamson. he hasn’t watched it since he died, though.

☆ gets cold easily. he has several hoodies of the same brand and style? just in different colors.

☆ used to really hate having to wear glasses. the first time he realized he needed some consisted of dana asking him if he was alright as he strained to read a patient’s chart. what a day that was, unmistakable proof that he was, in fact, aging smacking him like two tons of bricks. plus, he doesn’t think he looks the best in them but that’s come second to making sure he can get through the day without having to squint at his ipad.

☆ owns the rattiest fucking pair of slippers you’ve ever seen but robby won’t let you throw them out. they’re falling apart and don’t close to comfortable, yet he still insists on keeping them. you’ll manage to get them one day…

☆ enjoys a day at the museum. he even has a special sweater he wears—a simple, brown, cashmere pullover—whenever he goes.

☆ (the man kissed the air out of you when you’d bought him a premium membership to the carnegie museums for his birthday one year. now he spends at least one day a month holding your hand and reading about dinosaur bones.)

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Cauldron of the Reborn: Escape from Black Castle

a fanwritten Halloween event

summary: when Malleus receives an invite from a distant relative to a historic castle in Briar Valley, he can't refuse characters: malleus, lilia, sebek, silver, vil, rook, epel, jamil, kalim additional info: reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

[I needed a break from requests. no idea if I'll continue this or not, I figure most aren't too interested in this sort of thing, but I love halloween events and wanted to write one]

Main Street - Evening

"A little lower," Crowley says, standing with a hand on his hip as you rebalance yourself on the rickety step ladder.

Grim is beneath you both, grumbling about being woken from a nap to help with the annual Halloween event.

"Like this?" you ask, lowering the black crepe banner an inch or two.

Crowley hums, his hand on his chin. And then he nods. "Well enough. I'll have more work for you to volunteer for soon, so keep lively, Prefect!"

You climb down from the ladder, shaking your head. That man...

"Well," you sigh, hands on your hips. "What do you want to do now?"

Grim scratches his head. "Eat?"

"You just did,"

"Ehh, I'm outta ideas. Let's not bother 'lookin for anyone. I don't wanna get dragged into helping. Let's just go home,"

You sigh, but you can't argue with him; you've been decorating since classes had ended for the day, and it's almost dark.

On your chilly walk back to Ramshackle, though, someone comes looking for you.

"Prefect!" a voice calls from behind you on the beaten path.

Grim sighs. "Oh, brother. Here we go..."

Jamil Viper stops behind you, and gives Grim an unamused look. "I heard that, you know. I wasn't looking for any favors. I simply wanted to know if either of you have seen Kalim,"

"Kalim?" you and Grim share a look. "You lost him?"

"Lost? Certainly not," Jamil crosses his arms. "He has relatives visiting for the weekend, and he left to purchase more food for their party a few hours ago. I haven't seen him since."

Grim sighs. "So... you lost him?"

Jamil glares at the direbeast, though his eyes soften when he looks at you.

"He insisted on going himself, and I foolishly let him. But he's not at Sam's, and no one has seen him. Kalim has a tendency to wander, and I'm afraid something might have happened,"

Grim tugs at your coat sleeve, trying to pull you towards Ramshackle, but your feet stay firmly planted on the dirt path.

"We'll help you look for him," you say, ignoring Grim's groaning.

Jamil sighs. "If it's not too much trouble... I would appreciate that,"

Pomefiore Lounge - Evening

"I really doubt he's in here," Grim mutters, clinging to your leg.

Jamil sighs again as you all wipe off your feet before entering the dorm. "We've checked the library, the halls, the courtyards, the cafeteria, Sam's again, and Scarabia twice. Trey Clover, Jack Howl, Azul Ashengrotto, Ortho Shroud, Sebek Zigvolt and Silver have all confirmed he is not at their respective dorms. This is the last place he'd..."

He trails off, and you follow his eyes to a head of white hair and a blinding smile.

And then a frown. "Took you all long enough," Vil Schoenheit says, waving Kalim al-Asim away from a length of lace.

Jamil's dark circles suddenly look much darker.

"Jamil!!" Kalim exclaims, jumping over an expensive couch (to Vil's dismay) and stumbling to the three of you. "You have to see this! It's the best thing in the world!"

"Kalim... what are you... how long have you been here?"

"Two hours and fourteen minutes," Vil mumbles, smoothing out the delicate black skirt he's in.

Jamil grimaces. "Kalim, did you even go to Sam's at all?"

"Huh?" Kalim's smile drops, and he crosses his arms in thought. "...Oh, right. I forgot all about that."

You place a reassuring hand on Jamil's shoulder.

"But- look, I ran into Vil earlier, and he said he needed help!"

"I did not say that,"

"So I had to!"

"Kalim," Jamil pinches the bridge of his nose. "Your cousins will be here in mere hours. We have not the least amount of food to host them."

Vil rolls his eyes and returns to collecting the black lace, pins, and thread strewn across the floor, no doubt the aftermath of Kalim's "help".

"But it was an emergency!" the boy protests. "A fashion emergency!"

You raise an eyebrow. "A what?"

Jamil sets a hand on your shoulder, but when you turn to him, his arms are crossed and close to his chest, which-

"Une urgence couture, Trickster,"

You jump, and the light, merry sound of Rook Hunt's laughter fills your ear. He circles around to your front, Epel Felmier following, mouthing a quick "sorry" for his upperclassman's behavior.

"Pomefiore will be hosting a magnifique fashion spectacle the weekend after this, courtesy of our own Roi du Poison!"

"Yes, yes," Vil waves him off and looks at you. "I was planning on surprising you with invitations at the Halloween event, but I may as well just give them to you now."

He leaves the room to retrieve your invites, leaving you with a chatty Kalim, an exhausted Jamil, a smiling Rook, a whiny Grim, and... Epel.

"You doing okay?" you ask him, and he sighs.

"Vil's 'havin me 'an Rook in the fashion show, so he's cut all processed sugar from our diet for a month,"

"A month?!" Grim exclaims. "What about Halloween treats?!"

Epel shakes his head, sadly, and Rook grins.

"For the best, Monsieur Pommette. As I recall, you have a penchant for stomach aches when you indulge,"

Epel blushes and crosses his arms. He looks about ready to argue, but then Vil returns with invites for yourself and Grim, and so he keeps his mouth shut.

"I hope to see you both there," Vil says. Epel rolls his eyes.

The upperclassmen leave to talk, Jamil drags Kalim outside, and Grim sniffs the scented envelopes Vil had given them.

You smile at Epel. "Hey, at least it's almost over, right?"

He sighs, sulking a little.

"I guess... I just wish there was some way I could enjoy Halloween this year, without Vil knowing a thing..."

Diasomnia Lounge - Evening

"Mail's here,"

The imposing doors of Diasomnia swing open and Sebek Zigvolt and Silver return to the dark lounge with a stack of letters in each hand.

"You know, I really don't know why more fae don't switch to emailing. It's much faster," Lilia Vanrouge says, draped over the arm of a couch as the boys hand out the scrolls and envelopes.

"Or instant messaging. I hear "sliding into DMs" are all the rage nowadays."

Silver rolls his eyes.

"For you, oh... this one is mine, and another one for me..." Sebek says, smiling. "And another, from grandfather... and this one-"

He pales, and his eyes widen. Silver stops between letters and raises an eyebrow.

"Sebek? What is it?"

His hands are shaking. "It... it's for OUR LIEGE!"

"Volume, Sebek," Lilia says merrily, kicking his feet up on the couch.

"B-BUT... IT'S AN INVITATION... FOR LORD MALLEUS!"

"An invitation?" Silver walks to him and reads the yellowed paper. "Is it from the Prefect?"

"CERTAINLY NOT! OBSERVE THE PENMANSHIP! THE PAPER! THIS IS BRIAR VALLEY QUALITY!"

"There's no name on it," he remarks, handing it to Lilia.

Lilia squints, reading the fine calligraphy aloud.

"To the Prince Malleus Draconia,

I, blood relative of the Draconia line, would be honored to host yourself and an entourage of your choice for the holiday week-end at my family's ancient castle. Food, drink, music, and tours of local ruins and wildlife will be provided at no cost. Yours."

Silver and Sebek wait in silence as Lilia reads it, reads it again, and then smiles.

"No name. How peculiar. I recognize the coat of arms here, though- this is certainly a distant relative of Malleus, but I can't remember which family it belongs to... no matter,"

"And the castle?" Sebek asks. "I've never heard of it."

The elder fae hums. "Oh, yes. Black Castle is thousands of years old. I thought it had been abandoned a millennia ago, but I haven't been keeping up with politics," he smiles. "This part of Briar Valley is rather isolated, after all."

Silver crosses his arms. "You're sure this is a relative of Malleus?"

"Positive. It's far too obscure to be an impersonator. Not even the Senate has records from Black Castle,"

"What's this about a castle?"

The three go silent and look towards the mouth of the room, where Malleus Draconia is standing, arms crossed. Silver still looks wary, and Sebek is restless, but Lilia is smiling.

"Oh, Malleus- it's the strangest thing. You've been invited by a distant relative for a weekend getaway,"

"A getaway?" Silver mumbles under his breath at the word choice.

Malleus' eyes widen, and he comes into the room and takes the letter from Lilia's outstretched hand.

He reads the cracked, yellow paper... and then he smiles.

"...My. How kind. We should accept, should we not?"

[allwaswell16]

A One Direction fic rec of fics where both of the main characters are older as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

🩶 Don't Want Shelter by @kingsofeverything

(E, 76k, enemies to lovers) Louis and Harry have known each other all their lives. Friends as children, they danced around each other as teenagers, and have spent the last twenty-five years either screaming at each other or not speaking at all. Except for that one time ten years ago…

🩶 Not That Gone (series) by abrighteryellow / @a-brighter-yellow

(E, 66k, famous/not famous) Louis’s 20-year high school reunion takes a turn when a celebrity classmate – who also happens to be Louis’s long unrequited crush – unexpectedly shows up.

🩶 In Four Colours by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel

(E, 59k, vacation) the older larry AU featuring sun, sand, and the French countryside with a sprinkling of divorced Harry and silver fox Louis.

🩶 A Sweeter Place by Halos_Boat / @halohamilton

(E, 50k, widowers) Harry doesn't think he has it in him to find love again, at least, not until he meets a man at his support group that just might change his mind.

🩶 Where Words Fail, Music Speaks by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow

(M, 45k, small town) Louis meets town troubadour Harry, who seems wonderful to him just right until he reveals that Louis’ father was like a dad to him. Even though Louis tries to convince himself that it shouldn’t - it hurts.

🩶 hard times in elmsmere by @stylinsoncity

(M, 37k, time travel) Louis is struggling enough to adjust to life in the present when an older version of harry magically appears to him and requests his help in the future.

🩶 We’ve Been Here Before by @yourpricelessadvice

(E, 36k, established relationship) Harry and Louis' last child has just flown the nest; they've got the house all to themselves for the first time in twenty six years. Fate, however, has other plans for the couple.

🩶 Someone to Fly Home To by @kingsofeverything

(E, 34k, exes) Louis. 55 year old pilot who wants someone to fly home to. Harry swipes right.

🩶 Hold Tight by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(E, 29k, neighbors) Louis’ new home comes with a garage, a garden, and a dream man next door. The only thing standing in the way of their happily ever after is his neighbour’s stubborn insistence that his vintage motorbike continue to rust away rather than let Louis get it back into driving shape.

🩶 Unraveled by @allwaswell16

(E, 18k, bodyguard) Harry Styles, recently retired UK Secret Intelligence Service agent, had not yet had time to become accustomed to civilian life when he was tapped by MI5 for a high profile assignment. They had reason to believe that Prime Minister Louis Tomlinson might be in danger, and they’d like Harry to act as his personal protection.

🩶 Moments of Memories by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry

(M, 17k, Reunited au) Harry Styles met Louis Tomlinson at the age of 6. At the age of 23 he lost him. What happens when he meets him again 36 years later?

🩶 It Will Always Be You by @phdmama

(E, 15k, reconnecting) If you had told Louis Tomlinson a year ago that he would be celebrating his birthday by kissing the man who is the love of his life on a Church Street park bench in Burlington VT as the snow drifted softly down, he would have told you that you were extremely imaginative. 

🩶 Thought The Song Was Sung by @100percentsassy

(E, 12k, famous/not famous) Louis never auditioned for the X-Factor. Years later, Harry's just another gay ex-boybander who lives alone with his cat... until Niall decides to take matters into his own hands and set up a profile for Harry on a dating website.

🩶 contingencies by honey_beeing

(M, 10k, famous/famous au) where Louis and Harry are actors who long ago were married on set and find out too late. Like twenty five years too late.

🩶  a garden in bloom by momentofclarity / @gaycousinlarry

(G, 10k, bed & breakfast) Louis used to live the quiet sweet life of a small business owner in the English countryside. Then Harry Styles came along.

🩶 Just the Start by @littleroverlouis

(M, 9k, hairstylist Harry) Louis is a fifty-two year old divorcé who has fallen into rut. He never anticipated a forced day of self care, and a chance meeting with a charming salon owner would shake him out of his comfort zone.

🩶 'Sup by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics

(G, 6k, writer Louis) Gemma really wants her little brother to sign up for a dating app and get back in the game after a messy divorce. Harry thinks he’s way too old to swipe.

🩶 We're Getting Better With Time by @haztobegood

(T, 5k, second chance) the one where Louis is single, Harry is recently divorced, and they reconnect on Facebook forty years after they first met.

🩶 Have Me And Hold Me by @letsjustsee

(NR, 5k, established relationship) a wedding day AU in which Louis will let nothing stand in the way of a perfect day - especially a little rain.

🩶 Everlasting Admirations by me_her_themoon / @dreamersdivin-headfirst

(E, 2k, established relationship) They’ve tried to keep each other in tune over the years, wanting to make sure they both feel loved by each other and by themselves. Though, sometimes age gets the best of them.

🩶 the quinquagenarian by larryftnoctrl / @the-larry-way

(E, 2k, established relationship) Harry and Louis have their first Christmas alone in more years than they can count.

- Rare Pairs -

🩶  A True Love of Mine by myownspark / @myownsparknow

(T, 2k, Niall/Shawn Mendes) Niall's peaceful afternoon at the beach with Shawn is interrupted by a group of strangers. One man in particular reminds him of someone special from long ago.

[ashkabbom]

Would it have worked? - Mouthwashing

A/n: I think it's important to let you know that I haven't written frequently for a long time, but following something new has made me excited and with a peak of creativity, I apologize if I wrote something wrong or said something wrong 😭 feel free to correct me 🫶🏽

Versión en español en Wattpad: Libro de One Shots - Mouthwashing (Cuenta: ashkabbom)

Versão em português no wattpad: Livro de One shots - Mouthwashing (Conta: ashkabbom)

I didn't write this in a romantic way, but please give my writing a chance 🙏🏽

Mini warnings: Mention of bullets and death of the main character, I think that's all?

When you arrived here, expectations and nervousness went hand in hand, but regardless of how strange and weird everything around you was, hope was something you insisted on having at all times. Tulpar will be a good or at least interesting experience.

You really made friends, don't think you didn't!

Having someone like Anya to talk to in the middle of the night when neither of you could sleep properly was comforting.

The dialogues you and Daisuke had were definitely something interesting, you got along well together, sometimes even Swansea was there too, claiming that two interns together wouldn't be a good idea.

Now, about the captain and him. The captain was actually quite calm, a very understanding man, sometimes he would join you and Anya at night... But he was something else. He could just be someone who was a little stressed and had a weird mood. There are a lot of people like that, right?

You remember talking to him and the captain a few times, but rarely, only when it was really necessary or just to relax.

A year transporting a load among so many stars, a load that you didn't even know what it was initially, it would be good to have a good relationship with the others on the ship, your companions after all.

You start to think as you stare at the sky projected on the huge screen, remembering the little conversation you had with your friend.

"Where do you think you would be if you hadn't come to work here?" Daisuke asks looking at you.

"Hmmm.. probably working in a supermarket I think. That was my option if this one didn't work out, so I would keep sending resumes to see if I could get a better job I think.." You say as you remember your old options, there weren't many, but there were still possibilities. "But what about you?"

"Honestly I don't know, I try to be positive about it.." Daisuke looked insecure and uncertain about where he could be now. "Would we still talk when we get back home? I don't know if I'm going to stay here after all this, their cake isn't the best." He tries to relax.

Out of all the people on this ship, Daisuke was the easiest to talk to and actually build some kind of relationship with, maybe because you two were the most positive in that situation.

Even with that foam everywhere on that ship, lost in a loud silence between the darkness and the stars, you were all going to make it back to Earth.

Maybe because you two were more naive than the others on that ship, the two sanest on that crew.

"Hey, you're a cool guy, I'm sure you'd be working in a good place!" A confident smile appears on your face, trying to dismiss your friend's worries. "Of course we would still talk to each other when we get back, we are friends after all, together here for months"

He smiles positively and you say not to go crazy before you, you laugh but are soon interrupted by Swansea asking what the hell you two were doing up in the middle of the night

It was kind of stupid. Maybe you two should have been a little more realistic about the situation. More than 4 or 5 months, shit, you didn't even have any sense of time anymore. No one had come looking for you yet. Had anyone noticed that you were missing and never contacted Pony Express again?

Sitting with your friends at that table, as if it were the day of that news, with everyone sitting together and the cake for the captain on the table.

Now, with a bullet hole in your forehead, along with your friends and that man, your head tilted to the side, you stare at the sky projected on the broken screen, wondering if this would have worked.

A/n: English is definitely not my first language, so I had a lot of translator help! Sorry for any nonsense words with other words.

I just wanted to write a little bit and I liked Mouthwashing, how the game approaches the theme of work and worker, each character's situation in relation to themselves and the general situation ^^. Feel free to tell me what you think of my writing and if you want me to write something, I wouldn't mind. 🎀

[isa-beenme]

Whispers of Secrets and Starlight

Rhysand x Reader

Summary: As the Archeron sisters grow older you take in as your mission to make things right for your cousins, even if the secrets you keep of where you are from and who you are might one day collapse. You never wanted to go back to that life, but something is calling you, and it might be your only way back home.

Warnings: Use of Y/N, ACOTAR rewrite, female main character, too many secrets, not 100% book following, Rhys is not here yet 😔

Whispers of Secrets and Starlight - Masterlist

Chapter 1: Everything I Wanted

The forest had become a place of ghosts and silence, a land where winter crept in long before the first frost. Snow had yet to fall, but the air carried its promise—cold, biting, and unforgiving. Feyre adjusted her grip on the bow, scanning the trees for any sign of movement. The cold gnawed at her fingers, even through the worn leather of her gloves, but she kept her grip steady on the bow. She had been hunting for hours, and her stomach twisted with the knowledge that she had nothing to show for it.

Somewhere, you had already returned home, your satchel surely filled with more food that everyone could eat in a day, likely three times the amount Feyre could ever hope to bring back. It had always been that way. You, her cousin, swift and ruthless in the woods, moving like a phantom, never missing a shot. You had taught Feyre how to hunt, how to read the silence of the forest, how to track when even the footprints had faded. But unlike Feyre, you preferred to hunt alone, deserving of the dark silence that stretched during hunts.

Feyre crouched behind a thick tree, her eyes locking on a deer grazing in the clearing ahead. It was thin, its ribs stark beneath its winter coat. Not ideal, but enough to give your family a proper meal or two. She pulled the bowstring taut, inhaling slowly—

A branch snapped behind her. Too loud. Too intentional.

Feyre stiffened, her heart pounding as she turned. And there, stepping between the trees as if the forest itself had parted for you, your presence filling in the space left for what was only for the cold.

Tall, poised, your shining eyes unreadable, you were considered beautiful in a way that felt unnatural for the ones in the village, almost too perfect, as if the world had crafted you to stand apart from the rest of your family. No one knew where you had come from, not truly. You had arrived when Feyre’s father had lost everything, slipping into their lives like a shadow, seamlessly fitting into their broken household. Nesta and Elain never questioned your presence, never made too many questions while you still fed their stomachs. Even the girls’ father, sunken and defeated, looked at you with something bordering on fear, if he knew... you couldn't tell, and didn’t care.

Your gaze flicked toward the deer, then back to Feyre. “It’s too weak,” you murmured. “We won’t get much from it.”

Feyre gritted her teeth. “I don’t have another hunt today.”

You sighed, reaching to your belt and pulling free a rabbit, already cleaned and ready to be cooked. You held it out. “Take it.”

Feyre glared at you, resentment prickling at her skin. “I can get my own food, you know.”

Your expression didn’t change, sometimes it was hard to explain where you took all the food from, while Feyre could barely get a dying deer sometimes… so you didn't. “Take it, Feyre.” There was a fraction of warmth in your voice, mixed with quiet insistence. A command, whether Feyre wanted to admit it or not.

Jaw tight, Feyre snatched the rabbit from your hand, shoving it into her empty satchel. Without another word, you turned and melted into the trees, your steps so light they barely disturbed the fallen leaves, another thing of you that your cousin never understood, as she listened to every step of hers making some kind of sound that almost disrespected the emptiness of the forest.

Feyre remained there for a moment, watching the empty space where her cousin had disappeared. The same unease settled in her chest—the same feeling she had ignored for years.

Who were you, really? Beside the loving and confident mysterious cousin. Nesta kept telling her to not make questions, instead, be thankful you showed up into their lives before it was too late and they died of hunger. And why did it feel like you were always longing for something?

By the time Feyre pushed open the door to the cottage, the fire inside had already been lit, filling the small home with the scent of burning wood. Elain looked up from her sewing, offering Feyre a relieved smile, while Nesta barely spared her a glance from her place by the fire. You stood at the worn wooden table, pouring water into a pot as if you had always belonged there.

Feyre tossed the rabbit onto the table. “That’s all I got.”

Nesta’s sharp gaze flicked to the rabbit, then to you. “You helped her get that one. You always skin the rabbit differently.”

You didn’t look up from the bread dough tou were making. “And?”

Nesta pressed her lips together, but said nothing. She never argued with you in front of the others.

Feyre sank into the chair near the fire, stretching out her aching legs. She could feel your eyes watching her, though, always shining with something Feyre couldn't exactly explain, your eyes went back to the dough, as if nothing truly bothered you. And, not for the first time, Feyre wondered if maybe you knew something the rest of them didn’t.

☆

The night was sharp and still when Feyre spotted the wolf.

She had been tracking a doe for nearly an hour, her fingers stiff from the cold as she clutched her bow. But before she could line up the shot, the wolf appeared—massive, its fur thick and glistening under the pale light. Too large for an ordinary beast. Too intelligent in the way it moved.

Maybe… a faerie.

Your voice echoed in her mind. “Not all fae are as they seem. And not all deserve to die. Don't believe in your father's stories, he's just an old man trying to find something else to blame for his cowardice.”

Feyre swallowed. The promise she had made to herself—to kill any faerie she encountered, to protect her family from their kind—burned in her chest. If this wolf was indeed fae, it would die just the same.

She knocked the ash arrow, held her breath, and let it fly. The wolf didn’t make a sound as it collapsed, blood staining the snow. Feyre lowered her bow, her pulse thudding in her ears. It was done.

But deep in her bones, she knew—this wasn’t over. Not when you looked at her with pity, not when you turned your face when Feyre put the wolf on the table. Not when you refused to eat that night.

☆

The next day, the cottage door shattered.

The beast filled the doorway, golden fur bristling, power radiating from its hulking form. The air seemed to tremble around it as if the very world feared its presence. Nesta screamed. Elain backed against the wall. Feyre reached for her knife—

But you were already moving, stepping between them and the beast, face unreadable.

"One of you killed one of my sentries," the creature growled, its voice rippling through the room like a storm. "Under the Treaty, you owe a life for a life."

Feyre’s heart pounded. She had known the risks. She had done it anyway.

"I’ll go," she said before fear could take hold. "Just don’t hurt them."

But you turned to the beast, your eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You're lying."

The creature stiffened. Even Nesta and Elain stared at you in shock.

"What?" Feyre hissed.

But you didn’t take your eyes off him. "The Treaty doesn’t say anything like this. You're using it as an excuse to take her. What do you really want?"

The beast hesitated—a flicker of something passing through its massive form before it growled, "It’s not of your concern. The Treaty changed."

You exhaled sharply, then looked at Feyre. "You don’t have to go. This is a trap."

Feyre’s hands shook. She wanted to believe you. But you had always acted differently, always too secretive, always knowing things you shouldn’t and not sharing the whole picture. And the beast—whoever he was—was waiting.

Finally, Feyre lifted her chin. "If I don’t go, he’ll kill us all."

Your mouth tightened, the argument far too correct for your liking. You could kill the beast, attack him first. But the consequences would be too risky to deal with. So you just let a breath out and agreed. And then, to Feyre’s horror, you turned back to the beast and said, "Then I go too."

The beast hesitated. "Take it or leave it," you said, voice sharp as a blade.

And though he said nothing, though he gave no outward agreement, he turned his back and left the cottage, waiting outside while both of you gave your final goodbyes.

☆

The three of you rode in silence.

Feyre barely understood what had happened, her mind spinning as the beast led them through the woods on a horse, his golden fur catching the moonlight. You rode beside her, your expression as unreadable as ever.

"You shouldn’t have come," Feyre muttered.

You only glanced at your younger cousin. "Neither should you. You should've let me solve this by myself."

Before Feyre could argue, a sudden need for sleep washed over her, a feeling of tiredness that wasn't there before, and made her close her eyes and incline on the horse. The beast slowed, checking on both of you, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw you perfectly awake and in control of your senses. You barely spared him a side eye as you felt the magic trying to penetrate your skin.

“You better keep walking, High Lord. We won't get to your court if you try to make questions I won't answer.” The beast hesitated a second before walking ahead, the horses following his lead easily.

You didn't say another word to him again and pretended you weren't seeing the looks he kept giving you during the path. You only kept checking on Feyre from time to time to make sure she was fine on her horse. It didn't took much longer for your cousin to wake up when you were all getting close to getting out of the forest, and before you, bathed in golden light, stood a sprawling estate - far grander than anything Feyre had ever seen, a usual vision of exatamente your own life looked like before everything went wrong.

In front of you rested the Spring Court. And waiting at the steps, watching you with sharp, amused eyes, was a red-haired fae. Curiously, a vision of your past. Lucien.

☆

From the moment you entered the estate, you did not trust Tamlin. Maybe that unsettling feeling came from a past you didn't want to revisit and the High Lord didn't seem to remember. Feyre could feel it in the way you stood, the way your sharp eyes never left him, the way you responded to his carefully measured words with nothing but silence. You hated it here, so Feyre would do her best to match your feelings.

Tamlin seemed equally wary of you, though, as if you were a constant thought he couldn't seem to shake off. He didn’t meet your gaze often during the few meals you shared together, but when he did, there was something almost… uneasy in the way he regarded you.

Lucien, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter.

"I have to say," he drawled one evening at dinner, swirling his wine, "I expected one human to be foolish enough to take Tamlin's deal, but two?" His russet eye gleamed with amusement, raising an eyebrow when the word human left his mouth "Either you’re very brave or very stupid."

"Or," You countered, mirroring his lazy smirk, "your High Lord is just not as clever as he thinks."

Feyre nearly choked on her drink. Lucien blinked, then let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, I get it."

Tamlin, however, did not look amused. "Y/N" he said, voice heavy with warning.

You merely tilted your head. "Yes, High Lord?"

And there it was. The way your voice dropped lower, the weird accent that rolled off your tongue every time you got mad. The accent that didn't belong to any of the human lands, when you made your “r” thicker and changed the rhythm of your phrases, almost as if you were singing a song instead of talking. Tamlin seemed to notice the subtle change too, as his eyes, behind the mask, widened a bit.

“You would do me a great favor if you respect me in my own court. I am the one keeping you and your cousin safe, it would do you great to remember this” your breathing stilled at his words, anger easily burning and slowing inside of you.

“And you would be a great guy if remember you were the one who bring us here”

“You killed my guard”

“You sent him over The Wall even though you are not supposed to” Your voice cut sharply, getting more irritated by the second, the “t” in the phrase al“What made you send him there, hm? What are you running away from?”

“Dinner is over. You should all go to your rooms” Tamlin commands, Feyre’s body obeying her before she could think much of it. But her eyes were still in your lazy movements, as if you were unaffected by his words.

Feyre didn’t know why, but she had the distinct feeling that you already knew the answer to your own question. That you had known since before you set foot in this place. Maybe even before you met her and her family in that cabin.

You were playing a game only you understood.

☆

The Spring Court was beautiful. Feyre could admit that much. Rolling green fields stretched beyond the manor, endless and sun-drenched. The scent of wildflowers clung to the warm breeze, and the days passed in golden hues, filled with feasts and quiet moments beneath the willows. Tamlin was kind to her. Gentle. He showed her the beauty of his lands, the wonders of his power, the parts of himself that seemed carefully carved for her to see.

And yet—

“Why can't you look at what’s in front of you?” Your voice was sharp as you paced the balcony of Feyre’s painting room, your eyes blazing in the sunlight.

Feyre glared at you. “I am looking. And I don't think that what I see is as bad as you seem to think.”

“No,” You snapped. “You’re seeing what he wants you to see. Fae cannot lie but they for sure can get around the truth. I told you this years ago, why can't you listen now?”

Feyre clenched her fists. “And what is it that I’m missing, exactly?”

You exhaled hard, gripping the railing. “The way everyone here acts, the way they watch us, the way they fear Tamlin.” You turned, leveling Feyre with a look. “Doesn’t it seem odd that a High Lord would need to drag you here himself? That in this ridiculously big manor Tamlin has… what… ten faes in his staff? It doesn't make any sense” Your eyes wander to the side of the door, where a female was hidden behind the magic spell Tamlin casted, she quickly averted her eyes from you, scared you had seen her.

Feyre shifted uncomfortably, looking to where you were watching and seeing anything. “He’s protecting us.”

You scoffed. “Right. Protecting.”

The words settled between you, thick and heavy. Feyre crossed her arms, her jaw tight. “You don’t even know him.”

Your lips curled in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Neither do you.”

Feyre’s eyes darkened with something close to disappointment. “And stop talking like that”.

You raised your eyebrows, confusion taking the place of anger. “Like what?”

“Like that.” She forced the “T” in the word, your accent sounding foreign in her tongue. “It’s weird. No one speaks like this.” Feyre shifted her attention back to the painting, while you just scoffed.

“You honestly don't know a thing, do you?”

“So tell me! What is it that I'm missing? Why do you always keep everything a secret?” Your eyes darted to her hands, dirty with paint, to her pants, little flowers painted in the material.

“I can't.” Defeat was obvious in your tone, tiredness already consuming your being. “If I tell you all of this would be for nothing.” You didn’t let her say anything else, running out of the room.

☆

The afternoon light filtered through the trees as Feyre followed Tamlin along a winding garden path. She wasn’t sure where he was leading her, but she found that, for once, she didn’t mind. Tamlin had been… attentive. Thoughtful. In the last few days he showed her beauty she had never known, took her on rides through the hills, played music for her in the evenings when the court was quiet. He made her feel seen in a way no one had before. So why did her cousin's voice still linger in her mind?

Tamlin stopped at the edge of a clearing, turning to her. “I wanted to show you something.” Feyre stepped closer—and gasped.

A small pond stretched before them, glowing as though lit from within. The water shimmered with silver and gold, tiny glowing fish flickering beneath the surface. It was breathtaking, like something out of a dream.

Tamlin studied her, a small smile on his lips. “I used to come here when I was younger,” he admitted. “It was one of the only places where I could be alone.”

Feyre looked at him then, truly looked. Beneath the power, the strength, the carefully measured control… there was something else. Loneliness.

“I’m glad you brought me here,” she murmured. Tamlin hesitated, his golden eyes searching hers. Slowly, he lifted a hand, brushing his fingers along her jaw. Feyre’s breath caught.

“Feyre…” His voice was quiet, raw.

Her pulse raced. But before she could say anything, a sharp voice sliced through the stillness.

“Feyre.” She turned. But there was no one around. Your voice has been so clear in her head, as if you were glued to her side.

Tamlin stiffened beside her. “What happened?”

Feyre swallowed hard, looking between the trees to see where your voice came from. Tamlin’s gaze had darkened, his jaw tight.

Tamlin met Feyre’s stare as she said, quietly, “Something is wrong, I think. I heard Y/N's voice.”

Tamlin's mouth pressed into a thin line. Without another word, he turned and got out of the lake. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what your cousin is looking for, or what she is trying to tell you, but she won’t get it.”

Feyre wanted to believe him. But your voice settled in her chest, heavy and cold.

☆

The library was one of the few places in the Spring Court where silence reigned in your mind. Dusty books lined the shelves, the scent of old parchment heavy in the air. You sat curled in one of the worn velvet armchairs by the window, the faint light of the afternoon sun casting warm streaks across the wooden floor. A book lay open in your lap, while you tried to make sense of the last years of changes in Prythian.

You sensed him before he spoke, the steady footsteps, the familiar pull of his presence. Lucien slid into the chair beside you, not asking for permission — as if he had always belonged there, as if no time had passed.

His voice was soft, but there was a tension beneath it. “Where were you?”

You didn't look at him, eyes fixed on the delicate handwriting in the book. “In my home, Lucien. What are you talking about?”

A bitter laugh escaped him, the sound too sharp for this quiet place. “Don't lie to me now, Y/N. Stop pretending you don't know me."

That made your heart clench — the familiarity in his voice, the plea hidden beneath the sarcasm. You finally glanced at him, meeting those russet eyes that always saw too much. “You should stop talking about things you don't know.”

His jaw tightened. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, watching you like he was trying to piece together a puzzle. “What happened to you? You disappeared after—"

“I know what happened,” you cut him off, voice colder than you intended. “And I know what made me leave. Later I found my cousins, and now they're my family. It's enough.”

Lucien's golden eye flickered, scanning your face as if searching for the truth beneath the lie. “That's how you're playing this now?”

You clenched your fingers around the edges of the book, the paper threatening to tear beneath your grip. “I'm not playing anything. This is my life. This is me. Stop talking about the past since you know so much about it.”

The hurt that flashed across his face was gone as quickly as it came. “The problem is that I don't know anything.” His voice dropped lower, the sharp edge softening. “You disappeared one day and left everyone that cared about you with no news. And all of this for what? For you to play pretend with a long-lost family? For you to fake an accent that is not yours? Wear clothes that are not your style?”

Your heart stammered in your chest — he had noticed. Of course he had. Lucien was too clever, too perceptive. You swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “Again, you don't know what I went through.”

A long silence stretched between you — the kind only shared by two people who once knew each other too well. He leaned back in his chair, one hand running through his copper hair.

“Right.” His voice was quieter now, more tired. “I can see I don't... Last time I saw you, your ears weren't slightly round.”

Your breath caught. Your hand instinctively brushed the strand of hair falling over your ear, trying to hide what you had been so careful to get used to. He had seen that too.

“Last time I saw you,” you murmured, gaze fixed on the book in your lap, “you were still in the Autumn Court praying your father would grow a heart.” The corner of his mouth twitched, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. “Nothing went how any of us planned, I see.”

You looked at him then — really looked at him — and saw how much had changed. The scar across his eye. The weight of thr mask in his features. The shadows beneath the sharp smirk.

“Your High Lord will find you.” A chill ran down your spine at his words.

“He doesn't know he's my High Lord.” Your voice barely above a whisper. “I don't even know if that court is still my home.”

Lucien's gaze softened, the sharp edges of him melting for a brief moment. “You were one of the only people in the world who made me want to see that place, based on how well you spoke about it.” His fingers tapped on the arm of the chair. “You love your home, Y/N. And even if you want to lie and say we don't know each other... I'll be your friend, okay? You're not alone.”

The words hit harder than you expected — like a knife slipped between ribs. You clenched your teeth, blinking quickly to stop the sting behind your eyes. “I've never been lonelier in my life, Lucien.” The confession slipped out before you could stop it.

For a second, neither of you moved — the silence stretching heavy and fragile between you. His hand shifted slightly on the armrest, as if he wanted to reach for you but didn't know if he should. But then Tamlin's voice echoed down the hall, sharp and impatient. Lucien sighed, pushing to his feet.

“If you ever want to talk... really talk...” He hesitated, then added, “You know where to find me.”

He left without another word, leaving you alone in the library — the ghosts of the past pressing heavy against your chest. You sat there long after he was gone, the book forgotten in your lap. Trying to remember how to breathe.

[your-nanas-house]

Just acting... right?

◇ Pairing: Neil Lewis X Best Friend fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: filming, shitty acting skills, dry humping, Neil cumming in his pants, Y/n director, bit of shaming

◇ Summary: Neil needs some help for the sensual scene they need to record.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. This isn't proof read.. like most of my works but 🤫 I'm tired. This is based on this BEAUTIFUL moodboard made by @darlingsfandom . Also Happy B-day @emilyrosier !!!!

"Stop, Stop... Cut!" Y/n's disappointed voice interrupted Neil in the middle of his acting for a clip of the short movie they were recording to promote an event at Gumshoe Video.

That time the nerdy man had asked a little help from his best friend in hope to improve and give a kind of upgrade to the usual stuff.

The scene on the script, which was written by Neil himself, should have been a passionate and sensual one where the main character was having an intimate moment with a lover of his.

Due to the low budget there wasn't actually a second person there, not that they really needed it since that scene had the cameras all pointed at Neil's face, taking in his expression and the movements of his body.

So yeah... it should have been a sensual and sexy act that should have aroused and not disgusted or made the viewer worry of the main character conditions. "Dude... what was that? Are you okay?... it looked like you were having some kind of attack or about to throw up. Geez" the young woman confronted her best friend while staring at him with concern before rolling her eyes as soon as he went on the defensive

"Shush, no arguing with the director. You can't act this kind of scenes on your own, it's the forty-first try we make... I can't suffer this thing again. Sensual, sexy, you're having an orgasm... not dying by a bullet or due to poison" her harsh words slapped Neil right across his face, making him shut his mouth and follow her orders.

His best friend moved closer, fixing the camera again before meeting his gaze still lost in her thoughts.

They needed to find a solution to finally finish that short film.

"Okay... nerdy thing. Let's... Let's simply pretend shall we?" Y/n murmured with less confidence as she climbed on his lap and fixed the background which were the sheets of the bed and the pillows... there were also some rose petals because Neil had insisted.

Her eyes met carefully Neil's piercing light blue ones and she had to swallow the lump, that had formed in her throat, without stopping to fix the set to try for the forty-first attempt "And... action!" Y/n exclaimed as she focused the filming on her friend's freckled face, her hips casually grinding against his clothed crotch.

As the minutes passed and Neil said his lines, his expression started to become more genuine and real— expecially when his hips started to thrust up in seek of more friction. His slender fingers grabbed her hips, forcing her to grind harder on him while getting to the exact position the two characters should have been in the script.

A long whiny moan and his beautiful eyes were rolling back, his back arching softly and his swollen lips parting, as soon as his climax hit him like a train.

The scene was perfect, they didn't need to film it again, so Neil had all the time to change his cummed pants and underwear before recording the final parts of the script.

They were just acting, right?, Y/n asked herself as she glanced back at her best friend, still feeling the tension and butterflies in her stomach.

[devine-fem]

Let’s talk about Jason Todd in the Al Ghuls and why it bothers me to extreme levels in fandom. There’s a lot of content that insist on Jason raising Damian in the League of Assassins ergo Young Justice Animation or whatever and I want to talk about why I heavily dislike this concept.

Sure, it’s way to create interesting content for Jason and Damian but that’s exactly my issue with it, any valuable relationship that Damian is supposed to have in the League of Assassins get begrudgingly replaced with Jason, they even get as bold as to call him “Jason Al Ghul” which is somewhat disturbing because that’s kind of a form making Jason appropriate Damian’s culture. I also see this is popular amongst Damijay shippers as well and any post that talks of Talia and Jason having a deep relationship sounds extremely shippy to me. Which would make sense because Lost Days; one of the main comics supporting the idea that Jason would have a deep relationship with Jason reduces their dynamic to Jason being Talia’s bicycle.

Then because of this; DC comics is given an inch which makes them want the moon.

I cannot even iterate how deeply ooc this is. There’s multifaceted reasons as to why the Al Ghuls wouldn’t want to do anything like this but this should be ridiculous to anyone with common sense of DC comics.

Even if you insist that you would wish Talia and Jason to have a mother and son type of relationship and it’d be good for him… what’s the point? Did you forget about Nocturna? He already has that with someone.

Also, why is it just Talia that cares about Jason? Is Ra’s Al Ghul a none to the Al Ghul name? I mean it does go to show that originally Ra’s was depicted as feeling responsible for his death and greiving Jason to the point where HE was the one who sought out Jason’s body and brought him back to life, then he STOPPED TALIA from killing him again.

Or is it only because Talia is this sexy older woman figure? Or did you not know this about Ra’s Al Ghul? If you liked the Al Ghuls so much I would hope it’d be graceful of me to assume that you already knew this considering it’s one of his bigger character traits.

Also, overall there’s no need for this sort of concept considering that in the future and even now there are facets of Damian and Jason’s relationship that are soon going to be explored in the comics with the way that they actually are and is far more interesting anyway. He does care deeply, he’s not deeply unfeeling so why does Ra’s Al Ghul never help raise Damian? He’s not sadistic, he would help take care of Damian assuming that from the fact that Damian is the perfect air that he’s been waiting for centuries for.

But never forget that Jason and Damian are not as close as you may want them to be, his first interaction with Jason was him spiraling into madness and shooting him in the chest so…

[disgracefulthings]

I Just Finished Reading Nimona, and Oh Boy, the comic is so much better than the movie

That being said, the movie is still really good and obviously a different story than the comic its adapting. I definitely recommend watching/reading both versions, but anyway I wanted to talk about the characters and how they differ from version to version, so spoilers ahead!

First, let's start with Ballister Blackheart/Boldheart. Movie Ballister is forced into villainy, while comic Ballister chooses villainy after being kicked from the institution after Ambrosious 'accidently' blown off his arm. He is still trying to do the right thing, but he is more morally grey than the puppy dog Ballister we got in the movie. That being said, I still do like movie Ballister and it's clearly trying to do a different thing than the comic. In the movie, the reason why people didn't want Ballister to be a knight was because he was a commoner, while that isn't an issue in the comic (Ambrosious in the comic is also a commoner). Either way, he's still a fun character and I love them both, even though I do love Blackheart a little more.

Let's just start and say that I love Ambrosius Goldenloin's locks a lot more in the comic. He's also just a more interesting character. I'm not a huge fan of movie Ambrosius, he's definitely one of the weakest characters and while he does have some fun/cute moments, I don't think he's as developed as the rest of the main cast. Comic Ambrosius on the other hand is one of my favorite characters. Like Blackheart, he's more morally grey, and there is one scene I love more than anything. In the comic, Ambrosius would insist that him taking Blackheart's arm was an accident (Ambrosius lost a joust to him, and his weaponed got discharged after the joust, which ended up hitting blackheart and taking his arm). It isn't until near the end of the comic does the truth comes out, that Ambrosius was rigged to win that duel, and was giving a better weapon to gain the advantage, but it only ended up costing his victory since he wasn't used to using that weapon. What I love love love about this scene is that Ambrosius apologizes, and Blackheart points out that that's the first time Ambrosius apologized for taking his arm, and Ambrosius was taken aback because he never realized that he didn't apologized. He was too busy making excuses to notice. Anyway at the end of the comic he gets his shit wrecked, and I just find it more compelling than movie Ambrosius who we don't get to see get a final resolution with Boldheart.

Nimona's personality is pretty much the same in both versions, but her backstory and themes do differ. Movie Nimona is very obviously a trans allegory (i can't believe I missed that with my first viewing, it was very obvious), and I don't think it's the same for the comic, but I could be wrong. It's not bad, just very in your face, and what I do like about her backstory is how it ties to a very important character in the movie, Gloreth. Comic Nimona has a lot more focus on her abilities, and I love at the end of the story when she uses her blood to make another version of her, that was so cool. I do prefer the movie ending where she gets back to Boldheart, instead of the comic where they don't really meet up again (she's alive, but she doesn't approached Blackheart as 'herself' again). I'm just a sucker for found family and happy endings. I probably prefer comic Nimona and her power set more, but they're both really good characters.

I gotta say, I prefer the movie Director over the comic. I think the movie version is a more complex character, the comic version motives aligns more with gaining power, whereas the movie version's motives include keeping the status quo no matter what. She's technically a twist villain in the movie, but she was very obviously going to be the main bad guy, but I don't feel like the movie was trying to trick us by hiding it (the older audience anyway). I love the scene in the movie when she tells (fake) Ambrosius about her nightmare, about a crack in the wall (status quo), and how nobody listens to her concerns, and how they subtly bring that back when she wants to use the canon to kill Nimona, and the knights she trained turned their backs on her, because she is incapable in seeing how she's in the wrong.

Anyway those are my opinions on the characters. Both stories have a lot of merit, but the comic is def my fave! Please see them both if you haven't

[thebroccolination]

helloooooo ! sorry if you've already been asked : a lot, like a huge lot, of people don't trust new siwaj as a director and are disappointed of him directing revamp. i dare say myself i don't fully have faith because i don't like the slowness he inserts consciously or not in some scenes. my fave serie is uwma as well (that's how i know you from twt) and i've watched ten of his dramas (i checked mydramalist) including his two latest 'fourever you' and 'perfect 10 liners. and i found some "improvement" if i may dare say. but people don't forgive him about 'we are' character toey who is ace in the novel having a nsfw scene in the drama.

ANYWAY. all of this gibberish to ask for your opinion please, thank you ^^"

Good morning!

New is a complicated subject for me.

I’ll be honest that I also have reservations about him, but they’re unrelated to any of his three recent series (which I haven’t seen). My main qualms with New are his mishandling of Between Us and his insistence on tackling all the jobs himself even when he is demonstrably not equipped to do them.

If you go back far enough, you’ll see a ton of positive meta posts I made as Between Us was airing, because I went into that series with 2.5 years of goodwill toward New for directing Until We Meet Again and also for building Wabi Sabi, the only Thai studio and agency with an openly queer CEO who explicitly allowed his queer talents to be as open as they dared. Earth (Cooheart) simply couldn’t have grown the platform he has now anywhere but Wabi Sabi. He wouldn’t have felt that safe anywhere else, I guarantee it. Just based on the interviews he’s given and the homophobic bullying he went through on the sets of his early series, I think Earth could have easily been shoved out of the industry altogether under any other management.

Wabi Sabi also became a new home to Art, whose career was almost obliterated by the relentless smear campaign against him by Mew and his fandom.

Without New, we wouldn’t have Boun, because before New, Boun had spent seven years being taken advantage of and abused by the entertainment industry. He doesn’t talk about what he went through nowadays, but back in early 2020, he shared some pretty harrowing details about what was done to him by certain predatory figures in the industry. There are a million ways his career could have ended prematurely if New hadn’t stepped in and taken him under his wing at Wabi Sabi.

Then there’s Prem, who was part of Starlatiz when UWMA aired, but New maintained a good relationship with his agency to the point where people regularly mistook Prem for a Wabi Sabi artist. Wabi Sabi didn’t just post updates for Boun’s schedule, but for Prem’s, too. Even when Prem had solo projects, Wabi Sabi still promoted them. And in an era where multiple khuujin had been separated or poisoned by their agencies or managers, we could have lost BounPrem so, so easily in those early days.

New kept Wabi Sabi, a small queer agency, going throughout the pandemic barely making ends meet—if he wasn’t outright in debt.

Now, I think he did do a subpar job on Between Us. I could rant and have ranted about that for hours. I’ll save that for another time.

But I also think New deserves grace for the sheer scale of the contribution he’s made to the QL industry. To the queer community in his country. To the actors he’s fostered and nurtured. SOTUS might have been the tidal wave that really kicked off the BL surge in 2016, but without Love Sick in 2014, we wouldn’t have had SOTUS. And New was still in his mid twenties when he directed LBC, so he really has been a pioneer in many ways.

As a director, I don’t love his music choices, I wish he’d give the editing scissors to someone else, and I think he needs to get over his “sex scenes aren’t necessary because I’m good enough that I don’t need to resort to that” mentality because not every sex scene is extraneous, New, but.

As a person, as an advocate, as a pillar of the queer community, as a friend and a mentor, I will always give that man his flowers.

So while I can’t speak to the series you’ve mentioned, I can say that’s why I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt for Revamp. It’s outside his normal wheelhouse, and I don’t know if he’s really got his heart in it, but I also think Boun wouldn’t have trusted him with his passion project if he didn’t think New would do right by him.

(Of course, Boun’s also a big softie where New’s concerned because of the whole Saved My Life thing, but y’know.)

Ultimately, I’m willing to wait to see the results before I judge. I don’t want to pile on doubt or negativity on a project Boun has put his blood (ha), sweat, and tears into for years.

So fingers crossed.

I love you, New, don’t fuck it up. 🫵

[beevean]

gonna try the hot take ask game!

let's see... Sonic has never had an extremely rigid philosophy about not killing bad people to give them another chance. It's a blatant misunderstanding of how Sonic represents freedom to interpret him as believing everyone should be free indiscriminately.

Strongly agree | Agree | Neutral | Disagree | Strongly disagree

It simply doesn't exist in the games. There is not one scene of Sonic coming close to killing someone, only to pull back at the last minute. He's not a bloodthirsty Punisher, but he also has no qualms about stopping enemies, one way or another.

In fact, just ask Erazor Djinn how merciful Sonic is! Oh, wait, you can't. He's drowning in lava because Sonic trapped him there :P and let's not forget how he lowkey threw a death threat at Infinite when he talked about hsi epitaph.

Point is, Sonic's only principle if you want to call it that is his desire to help people in need. But it's not a rigid rule he lives by. There is no way he'd ever say "I want to do this, but my own rules prevent me from doing so." That is the complete antithesis of what Sonic stands for!

I'm gonna copypaste what I and a friend wrote in the IDW Sonic FAQ which I think is relevant:

--

“Why do you want Sonic to kill people so bad?”

There seems to be this common misconception that people who have an issue with Sonic’s “principles” would rather watch him kill in cold blood. That is not the point.

Sonic is a nuanced character who simply doesn’t have any “principles” when it comes to his enemies. He treats villains on a case-by-case basis: sometimes he takes them down without feeling sorry, such as Erazor Djinn. whom Sonic sealed in his own lamp and then threw into lava. Sometimes he first defeats them then comforts them, such as Merlina. Sometimes he takes a non-lethal approach, such as Chaos who was simply neutralized (it’s up to interpretation if he empathized with it or Sonic simply saw the situation  pragmatically). Eggman is a special case because of his plot armor that comes from being the franchise’s main antagonist, but his tendency to survive his encounters with Sonic can be easily explained as Eggman being very good at getting away: see below.

A violent Sonic is just as OOC as a Sonic that insists on letting enemies go in peace.

“Sonic spares Eggman.”

The “principle” of Sonic letting Eggman go is nothing more than Flynn’s attempt at a Watsonian explanation of a simple piece of storytelling that harkens back to the Genesis era: how come Eggman survives everything Sonic throws at him? The truth is, of course, that this is a cartoon series and Eggman is protected by his status as the main villain. If you really wanted to explain it logically, you’d have two options: Sonic always holds back and lets Eggman go… or Eggman is very good at surviving and escaping. And honestly, the second option sounds the most likely, because Sonic is shown to be near-ruthless when it comes to his archnemesis. Just a few examples:

Sonic 1: The player can control Sonic at the end of the Final Zone and they have the chance to attack Eggman one more time, watching him fall down in his exploding Egg Mobile. 

Sonic CD: In the bad ending, Sonic throws a rock at Eggman as he’s flying away, causing the Egg Mobile to explode.

Sonic Pocket Adventure: Super Sonic rams into Eggman at the end of Chaotic Space Zone, even as Eggman is visibly shaking his head and arms to say “please don’t”. 

Sonic Battle: In Cream’s story, she accidentally electrocutes Eggman, and Sonic mocks him all the while for his “new dance”.

Sonic Unleashed: At the end of the Egg Dragoon fight, Sonic takes the time to destroy the Egg Mobile and then throws Eggman in the general direction of the lava, again ignoring Eggman shaking his head and arms in fear.

Sonic Lost World: In the ending, Sonic sabotages Eggman’s jetpack and gleefully watches him fall down for miles.

Sonic Mania/Sonic Mania Plus: At the end of the Phantom Egg fight, Sonic leaves a panicking Eggman behind in the collapsing Titanic Monarch. In Plus, Super Sonic and the gang knock Eggman away into the Phantom Ruby-caused wormhole right behind them.

And this is not counting the many instances of Sonic leaving Eggman for dead, from the Death Egg’s implosion in Sonic 2 to Eggman being sucked into a black hole in Colors, or particularly gruesome fates that are played for laughs, like sinking into a pool of lava after S3&K’s Lava Reef boss or being cut by the Screw Mobile’s turbines in Mania’s Hydrocity miniboss. Clearly, cartoon series or not, Sonic has no regard for the life of his archnemesis.

The only instance in which Sonic actually stood there and watched Eggman escape was in the ending of his own campaign in Sonic Adventure 1. And even then, that was quickly rectified in the ending of the Last Story, where Sonic starts chasing Eggman again almost immediately after neutralizing Chaos.

(Sonic Adventure 2 doesn’t count. Gerald’s plan and Shadow’s death distracted everyone, with good reason)

[moongothic]

So a few weeks ago I ran into this, old, old Crocodile meta post from 2015, the OP of which hasn't been active on Tumbr (at least on that account) since 2018. And this post (along with some of the OP's other posts) has been living in my head rent free since then.

There was just something there about seeing these old meta posts, completely detached from the current state of the story, the fandom and the Crocodad Propaganda... It just made for a truly refreshing read, but they also had such great observations about Crocodile I hadn't even thought about or noticed*, and somewhat most importantly... validating my own feelings/observations about things I've been kind of afraid to vocalize myself lest I apper completely delulu. Like I dunno I do worry sometimes if I'm just reading into things too much just to make massive reaches to get The Reading of the character that happens to support the Crocodad theory specifically, instead of trying to get a more objective reading instead. So seeing someone else make either those exact same or similar observations nearly 10 years before I did is so validating, and really just made me want to discuss some of those things.

*(Like this whole post about how "DON!" is often used to add emphasis and show the true beliefs of characters, and how Crocodile doesn't really say things with a DON!, almost like his heart isn't in most of the things he does or says. I dunno it was such a good read)

Sidenote: I do want to quickly comment that I don't agree with the OP on some of their readings about stuff, and more importantly, due to the age of the both the original posts and the OP not being active anymore, I didn't want to, like... Treat them as if they just posted it recently and interact with the posts as such. (I dunno, when people go digging through my decade old main blog and start reblogging shit I posted in like 2014 it just. I dunno, it's just kind of uncomfortable. Like you're allowed to browse my past but I wished people let my ancient cringe stay in the past. But that's just me) Like for example I feel like OP has a fundamental misunderstanding what being "trans" really even means (thus I don't agree with their take on trans Croc), but again, OP's take is old and so I don't want to hold it against them. They could have grown since then and come to better understand what being trans means, and regardless of that they don't have to buy into the theory either. And I absolutely do not want anyone to start trying to pester them about it or anything (again, they posted these things nearly 10 years ago), regardless of if they're still active or not. But yeah, that's why this is a whole separate post rather than a reblog with commentary.

So OP in their post speculated how in this moment (chap 206), based on the face he makes and the serious look he gives to Luffy, Crocodile seems to find the idea of someone being willing to die for someone else's sake absolutely incomprehensible, as if he's trying to wrap his head around the mere concept. That, or he used to know what it was like to hold someone/something that dear to you, but has long forgotten what it was like

Rereading this arc a while back I couldn't help but to take notice of this panel too and that unusual, somber(?) look on Crocodile's face. But because I'm a Crocodad Truther, of course I couldn't help but to feel that this was a face of recognition, of Crocodile understanding Luffy exactly in this moment, that willingness to do anything for a loved one. Especially because I have been speculating Crocodile might've been doing all of this with the goal of nuking the World Government out of orbit to protect his long lost baby boy (it's just that he simply finds Luffy's insistence on protecting this random ass princess from a random ass country he has zero ties to ridiculous, as opposed to like, doing all of this to protect immidiate, close family)

So again, despite the different reading it is validating as hell to see someone else think this panel in particular was odd. But the more I thought about it, I did kind of start leaning towards OP's reading. Now this one was originally pointed out by opbackgrounds, how in this scene (chapter 196) while Crocodile is meant to be laughing and mocking the royal guard for "throwing their lives away" to protect Cobra, he isn't actually smiling. We don't even get to see his full face with his eyes blacked out, so we don't get to see Crocodile's true feelings in this scene

And that does kind of reframe what he says in the second panel. For a long time I wondered if the implication was that Crocodile does actually value people's lives more than he lets on (especially with his seeming willingness to blow up a million people in a violent, orchestraded coup), just having a "small sacrifice for the greater good" kinda outlook (as we know, casualties can't be avoided in war, Croco and Luffy both agree on that) (where as I would IMAGINE Dragon having a more "no sacrifices, we have to save as many people as possible" kinda principle)

But now, looking at these two moments together, and knowing Crocodile has trust issues for unknown reasons, there is also that option that, perhaps... No one has ever shown that kind of loyalty towards him, a willingness to follow him to the grave or support him, to stay by his side? And if so, maybe, in these two scenes, Crocodile does recognize that kind of deep loyalty and trust and love, and has to cope with the fact that he has and may never experience it himself, that he's doomed to be alone, surrounded only by people who "respect him" out of fear (something that could be extra painful while knowing someone had just recently betrayed him by leaking his info to ruin his plans/after figuring out it was Robin, his very literal partner in crime. Like talk about rubbing salt into a wound).

And y'know, that is an extremely sad reading and I feel so bad for my poor little meow meow (that man needs a hug so bad), but also that doesn't really add to pushing The Crocodad Agenda, which is very unfortunate. Especially because I feel like between the two readings, Crocodile recognizing loyalty no one will ever show him (and being hurt by the fact) feels like a more comprehensive and simple reading, than if one is about him showing he doesn't fully believe in what he's doing is right and the other about him relating to Luffy on a deeper level.

But then, as OP pointed out in their post, for the entirety of page 2 of Chapter 207 while Luffy is keeling over from the poison finally kicking in, Crocodile looks like he's fully letting down his walls to express genuine relief, as if the those beliefs Croc had carried and convinced himself were true were just confirmed

What're his beliefs again? That trust in others is worthless, and you can not afford to have ideals if you're weak, great strenght being the only thing that allows you, if not straight up justifies you, in doing whatever you please? Now, maybe it's just me, but if Crocodile was showing relief here over his belief that trusting others is worthless after being reminded time and time again of the love and loyalty the Strawhats have for each other and the Alabastan kingdom has for everyone in it (etc)... I dunno, I feel like that would be kind of weak, if that's where Crocodile's internalized beliefs were wavering. But if Crocodile's whole Utopia-plan had been about destroying the WG to protect his baby boy (and release the whole world from the WG's oppressive rule while he's at it) at whatever cost, while he deep inside knew what he was doing was fucked up beyond belief... Yeah, Crocodile trying to convince himself what he was doing was "justified" would make sense. Him having his beliefs potentially even waver a little bit through out this whole ordeal would make sense. Crocodile in this moment experiencing relief that what he had told himself was the righteous would make sense.

Everybody remember's Doflamingo's speech from Marineford, about how history is written by the victors and its them who decide what is right and what is wrong- the winner becomes "justice" itself. Vegapunk kind of called back to this concept during his broadcast too, and yeah, Crocodile did kind of introduce us to it back in Alabasta. If he had won, he would have been "justified" in what he had done, because it'd be him who'd be deciding what's right and what's wrong.

Now I don't really have anything else to add to that post in particular (though I absolutely love the reading on the Crocodile vs Robin part and now that I've read it I can't unsee nor disagree with it), but OP did make a separate post speculating about some of design decisions Oda made regarding Crocodile, starting with discussing the logo for Baroque Works. And they pointed this out

Bro wrote this in 2015, they have no idea, oh my god, dude had no clue whatsoever

So quickly looking that one up and yeah, wings have sometimes been used to represent the sun (most commonly with the sun, as a winged sun?) and yeah, that actually has a lot of meaning in the current state of the series re: God of Liberation the Sun God Nika. But what's more is that this is actually the SECOND time we're actually finding a way to link Crocodile to sun-symbolism, the other being Crocodile being a reference to the Egyptian god Sobek (protector god, god of military, go to Wikipedia), who has an alternative form (/fusion with Ra) called Sobek-Ra, where he is a sun god. And what was Crocodile trying to do in Alabasta if not falsely "liberate" the country from its original rule. Also worth noting is that seemingly the winged sun was most commonly used in Egyptian iconography, so if Oda ever did research Egyptian mythology for inspiration in Alabasta (which, considdering the sheer amount of Stuff in the story as a whole is more than likely), then it is very possible he could have read about the winged sun and used it intentionally.

But what I do find interesting is that, yeah, wings kinda are a symbol one would considder "heroic" or related to "freedom". And, as I have been going on and on about, if Crocodile's ultimate goal in creating his funny little "utopia" was to overthrow the World Government and "free" the whole world of their rule. Like. That really lines up with the whole symbolism with the sun and the liberation and the freedom and shit, like. Why does it line up so neatly good dear god

I dunno how to end this post, these were just a few little things that I had been thinking about after coming across OP's blog and, yeah, just wanted to discuss them.

Again, OP hasn't been active for years, but if they did suddenly come back please don't bother them or god forbid harrass them/try to get them to change their mind about trans Croco. Just don't start shit, please.

End of post byeeeeeeee

[whatdudtheysay]

Context - You're on a boring 'date' with the duke of the north. But a certain someone keeps catching your eye...

Tw - slight nsfw but nothing major.

Note - this series will have switching povs to show inner thoughts of both main leads <3 - might include other important characters.

Credit - @cafekitsune

You sighed softly as you woke up in your large bed, stretching with a light moan.

Another day of pretending to be poised and demure. You got out of bed and stretched once more before heading over to the long and big rope bell in your room.

You shook it tiredly and only 0.5 seconds passed before five different maids entered, two carrying hot buckets of water and three empty handed.

They all curtsied in sync, smiling at you warmly.

"good morning, your highness."

"good morning." You greeted back.

The two with the water moved into your ensuite to prepare your bath while the others went to your huge closet, holding out different dresses until you decided to choose a simple light blue dress. They nodded, offering comments like "excellent choice" and "you'll look amazing in this dress, your highness."

But you've heard it all before. You were then ushered into the bathroom for a bath, the maids helping you undress before helping you into the warm water, their hands helping wash your hair.

It was nice of them to do but you thought it would stop when you were 16. However, your mother insisted.

Luckily, time passed quickly and you were out of the bath. luckily, after you 'kindly' told them to excuse you to dress yourself, they did.

After they left, you laid back on your bed, your towel slightly slipping off. You were dreading today. A date with a duke? He's probably been divorced 4 times and has 7 children.

You were dreading it. But it wasn't like you had a choice. You sat up quickly and pulled on some underwear, your stockings, then your dress and then your jewellery.

After a long thirty minutes of doing your hair and drowning yourself in rose perfume, you finally got up and headed downstairs.

There, you entered the dining room and saw your father at the head of the table, smoking a fat cigar and reading the royale newspaper as usual, your mother beside him, drinking some tea.

"good morning." You greeted before taking a seat opposite your mother.

"Morning, sweetness. Are you prepared?" Your father asked.

"Prepared?" You feigned ignorance, staring at the window as the maids served you breakfast.

"do not play dumb, y/n. It isn't befitting-"

"-of a Princess. I know, mother." You cut her off gently. "But do I have to go on this outing? I know you all want what's best for me but a duke?"

"you rejected 30 princes, 5 imperial knights and an earl. This is for your own good since you love being stubborn." Your dad sighed, turning the page of his paper. "I'm guessing you got that from your mother."

Your mother gave your father a glare before she refocused on her breakfast.

You wanted to argue further but you knew that they'd make the situation worse for you. You hated how your parents acted when it came to your life...

It was your only chance at living and yet you weren't in control. You were just a doll to them... And then you'd be a doll to your future husband. The cycle wouldn't end.

"Very well, then. I shall prepare." You grit out before getting up and leaving your breakfast untouched.

You were walking. You didn't know where but you were angry and you just needed to walk it off before you got yourself in more trouble.

You continued to mumble to yourself, ignoring the different palace helps who stopped to greet you. After almost five minutes, you looked up and realised you were in a deeper end of the palace.

Unsure, you glanced around. Despite living here since you were born, you'd never explored this much. You weren't allowed to. Funny.

You continued going deeper. At least if you got lost it would give you an excuse to hold off on the date with the duke. Eventually, you found a room at the end of the hall and pushed it open, revealing a large hall.

"woah." You audibly mumbled. It was so big. A bit smaller than the main... You guessed it was a spare....

Hesitantly, you stepped inside and noticed a lot of portraits around. So this was where your childhood ones went. One of you as a baby, a child, then the most recent was from your 18th, just a few months ago.

You were about to let your hand gently brush against the golden frame when-

"A beautiful portrait."

You gasped and turned around to see.... Him...

Lieutenant Fushiguro.

"Lieutenant- what're you doing here?" You asked. Did he follow you? You hadn't noticed... Or heard him.

"forgive me for starting you." He bowed. "The king wants me to guard your date with the Duke...I tried to find you but the maids said you stormed off in this direction."

Oh.... That made sense....

You somewhat calmed down and nodded. "I see. Sorry...I didn't mean to waste time..."

It was a lie. You did.

But you couldn't deny, the view was... Delectable. The view of him in that tight dark blue and cream royal guard attire... The brooches on his blazer, his hair that was slicked back yet somewhat messy...

It was hard to ignore that delicious shiver that kept tingling down your spine.

"It isn't a problem...besides, I'm sure you are...dreading the meeting?" Toji supposed.

You sighed in relief. It felt like he was the only one who wasn't lobotomized around here.

"Finally! Someone who isn't brain-dead. Uh, no offense." You huffed.

He chuckled deeply in a way that made molten heat pool in your lower stomach.

"I'm not sure a woman such as yourself should settle for anyone you find below your standard." Toji shrugged simply, taking a few steps between you, eating up the distance.

You found yourself nodding to his words almost eagerly. How did a stranger manage to see it and say exactly what your heart wanted while your parents believed the complete opposite?

"I'm glad someone understands." You mumbled, glancing back at your portrait.

"Well sometimes you need a change of perspective." He spoke calmly, his voice a lot closer than before.

You glanced over your shoulder, swallowing thickly when you noticed he was merely a step away from you.

Before either of you could speak up, the doors suddenly opened and your father entered. You glanced at toji, then your father, noticing the stare off they were currently having.

"Y/n. Down to the main hall. The duke is waiting for you." Was all your father said.

But he said it in that voice. The voice he used when you were two ticks away from trouble. So, you moved around Toji awkwardly and quickly left the hall, your father closing the door behind you. Curiously, you pressed your ear against the door, overhearing some muffled words but nothing coherent.

"my lady."

You almost screamed at the sudden voice, whirling around to see your lady's maid and friend, Nobara.

"Gosh! Nobara, I told you not to sneak up on me anymore!" You lightly chastised, moving to interlink your arms, hoping your father hadn't realised you'd been eavesdropping.

She laughed softly. "Sorry. But I was told you'd be going out today?"

"yes... Just got a while. I hope." You sighed, remembering your 'date.'

"in that case, should I tell the emperor you'll see him next week?" She asked.

You raised a brow. Satoru wanted to see you? But why?

"I guess so. I'll probably be tired after the outing." You nodded. Now you wished you didn't have to go.

Satoru was your childhood friend before he inherited the Gojo empire. You barely ever saw him because it was situated in the far north and snow was fun until you got frostbite.

But you had to face reality... Before you got yourself into more trouble.

As you walked ahead, you took one last glance at the hall. The bigger part of you hoped you hadn't gotten Toji in any trouble...

ㅤㅤㅤ⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭ ⊹────⊹

(TOJI'S POV)

Fuck, it was hot. He was in the carriage with you, staring out of the windows, alert as usual.

But he was also discreetly staring at you. The heat was no match for a royal either. You were lightly fanning yourself, a bead of sweat moving down your collarbone, settling between the deep line of your cleavage.

Fuck. He had already ensured your father biting his head off about being near you earlier and now he was staring at those pretty tits eyes of yours. You kept glancing out of the window and then to your lap. Your fidgeting was making him nervous at this time.

"You alright, princess?" He asked, causing you to look up quickly.

You huffed, fanning yourself more. "Of course I am! I'm just... Thinking about my wonderful future wedding with the duke."

Toji chuckled, causing her to shyly avoid his gaze.

"I'm sure you'll receive many blessings of wealth and fertility." Toji hummed, making you gag.

"Ew, Ew, Ew! Don't!" You huffed, becoming more worried.

Toji sighed slightly. He could tell you didn't want to be bound to some random man and pop out more babies for him. Besides, who knew what the duke would make of the kingdom when your future husband took over.

Sadly, the ride slowed to a stop and toji helped you out of the carriage. He glanced around the large estate. It was....clean, kept...nice. befitting of a royal.

A woman came out, short and she had blonde hair.

"Good morning, I hope the the ride wasn't too eventful." She smiled, mostly at you than Toji.

"Oh, it was smooth, thank you." You replied with a smile as you had been accustomed to.

She led you up the path, Toji tailing behind, ensuring to keep an eye on the surroundings just in case...

They finally got into the estate, moving into the parlour which was thankfully, a lot cooler than the summer heat outside.

But then you suddenly stopped. Toji was a lot taller so he looked over your head and noticed a man sat, waiting...staring deeply into you.

Short silky blonde hair, regal robes and two different brightly coloured eyes. He had a wry smirk upon his lips and an odd look in his eyes as you stared at each other.

Naoya...the duke of the northern region.

Tags ღ - @blobkvna , @byerno6 , @iseeyouuu , @iloveaustinelvisandmannymore , @aloserprobably , @tojislittleprincesss , @meforpr3sident , @someonejasjsj

A/n - by changing povs I mean the story will focus more on one person than another just to lyk <3

Please don't steal or copy my work. None of the art in my works are mine 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

[ally1uvsu]

The Last Train to Survival. | Squid game x Dystopian au

Summary; The world fell apart in the most unexpected way, nothing mattered anymore. Debts didn’t matter, getting high or worrying who’ll you sleep with in the next party. All you have to worry about is survival, if the dead won’t creep up to you at night and kill you, in a world such as this, only the fittest and the smartest survive. Giving the ones in debt a sick irony of a second chance.

Info; Okay gang, since this ain’t ao3 and I don’t have an acc, I’ll try to tag properly here; Ships so far - Choi su-bong (Thanos) x Nam-gyu, Cho hyun-ju x Gyeong Seok, Hwang In-ho x Seong Gi-hun, Kim Jun-hee x Se-mi, Park Min-su x Kang Dae-ho Tags (for the whole fanfic); angst, fluff, character death, dead dove, smoking, use of drugs, killing, blood, sexual content, sexual tension, threatening, stealing, suicide, self-harming, mutual pinning, slow burn, violence, abuse, self-harm, internalized homophobia, transphobia, trans!nam-gyu, Jun hee is still pregnant in this, autistic characters (hcs), SA, mentions and inferences to r4p3 (even scenes with it, the chapter in itself will have a TW), Implied autistic characters, organ harvesting mentions, transgender (hc and og) characters, EDs, Thanos is a little shit in the beginning, depression, EXPLICIT mentions of harmful substances, behaviors, fighting, spanking (sexual and nonsexual), overall NSFW stuff, near death experiences, stalking, kidnapping, just normal zombie apocalypse shit, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Notes; I DONT HAVE AO3 💔💔💔 I LOST MY ACC BRO but the second I get my hands on that invite I’ll update this there. I’VE BEEN W THIS IDEA IN MY HEAD FOR SOOOOO LONG LIKE!?!?! So I hope y’all enjoy it<3 (also, should I mayhaps drop this on other sites like wattpad, and etc?) Also, the main focus here is Thagyu!! We have other ships but they’re the actual mcs here. So hence why that heading, this will be Nam-gyu’s POV.

Dead for a little while. | Pt.1

Nam-gyu had a huge fucking headache that no drugs or smoking could cease.

The bar he was working out was loud enough to burst his eardrums, he groaned as he cleaned some countertop, now, normally Nam-gyu would be fine, it's just that today in particular he hadn't gotten enough sleep, so he was grumpy the whole time.

Checking his phone, he had twenty minutes left on his shift, the clock marked nearly midnight; the weather was clear but cloudy, expecting rain. Nam-gyu sighed as he shoved his phone inside his pocket, this place would get fairly more humid and disgusting with the hot rain.

He tucked his hair behind his ears, not really paying mind to anyone or anything until some guy with two girls clinging to his arms came to the counter, "Hey, man. Can you pour us a few shots of whiskey? Like, three?" 

For fuck's sake, what a dumb question. Of fucking course he could. Nam-gyu lifted his head up, controlling his temper. He wasn't normally the best one to deal with migraines, and plus, judging by the look on this guy's face that had a cheeky grin as he talked to the two girls with his arms interlaced with them, he was some sort of rich guy who certainly knew how to fight.

Don't get Nam-gyu wrong, he could fight. But today he wasn't in the mood and this guy was definitely stronger than him. So against his normal behavior, Nam-gyu just nodded and dropped the cloth he was using to clean the countertops. He walked back behind the counters, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and three cups used for shots, pouring three of them and sliding them to the trio in the opposite side. 

Stating the given price, Nam-gyu took the money and watched the guy and the two girls turn around on their heels and leave off, disgusting. Not that Nam-gyu thought hooking up was bed it was just.. two girls at once seemed a bit too much.

The pounding in his head was insistent, Nam-gyu swore his head would fucking blow up if he stayed in here any longer. "So-ri, can you cover for me? My shift ends soon anyways." Said the raven haired as he called out to one of the many bartenders the club had, whose shift would be right after his.

So-ri would normally arrive twenty minutes earlier to take some time to secretly get high, and she was still good at her job even while doing so. It was admirable, really. Nam-gyu never snitched on her, ever. One because it was none of his business, two, he'd do the same. And lastly.. it just made her owe him something.

"Go ahead, dude. I'll take over. Boss' ain't even gon' care anyways." And Nam-gyu didn't have to think twice before going to the bathroom where they normally had lockers to keep their shit in. Getting in and out was fairly easy, Nam-gyu was so used to that damn combination that he could do it far more quickly than he used to.

Soon enough, he fell into step on the streets. Jacket tied around his waist and bag slung over his shoulder, again, he wasn't quite sure why he brought a jacket along with him, the weather was disgustingly humid, after all. But maybe it was just a force of habit, considering he was someone with a cold body and was cold constantly. Today was just one of the rare times where he didn't need his jacket to fell warm.

He grabbed a cigarette from his bag, lighting it up with a lighter he also kept in the back pocket of his jeans. Closing his eyes as he took a long drag and let the smoke mix into the air and become nothing, just another part of it.

His ears weren't difficult to pick up sounds of footsteps, he ignored it for the first couple of minutes, but then he figured something was wrong. And Nam-gyu knew exactly who was following him, fucking shark loans. 

He turned just around the street, and to his surprise (or maybe not), more of them were already waiting for him. Nam-gyu took the cigarette away from his lips and let his hand that was in charge of holding it fall limply to his side as his face became a grimace for a split second.

"Nam, fancy meeting you here." The guy said cheerfully, but Nam-gyu wasn't dumb. He could see the pure disdain in his eyes deep down. "Don't call me that, fuck do you want?" Nam-gyu gritted out, hell, he knew exactly what they wanted.

"You know what we want," Well, fuck him sideways, it was like they read his mind, fan-fucking-tastic. "I don't have the money right now and you know damn well our agreement isn't until next month." Nam-gyu said rather annoyedly.

"That's the same thing you said last month, wasn't it? We keep postponing the date because you can't be responsible enough to save up and pay for it." A vein popped on Nam-gyu's temple, they weren't necessarily wrong, but it still stung. Before he could even speak up again, he was cut off by that guy, Nam-gyu hated being cut off.

"And we thought we should teach you a lesson to put you straight in line." Fucking great, Nam-gyu was exhausted and outnumbered, but hey, it is what it is. He dropped his bag to the ground, tucking his hair behind his ears.

A loud sound of knuckles cracking and meeting a bone was heard, maybe someone's jaw. And then he realized, it was his jaw. Blood inevitably splattered out of his mouth and he stumbled back, he threw a punch that hit the guy in the nose and because they were all fucking pussies, like Nam-gyu thought, everyone ganged up on him.

He felt a punch on his nose, warm blood trickling down it and a bit pushing past the gap of his slightly parted lips, his tastebuds immediately catching on the sick and metallic taste of blood, he cringed. Another punch to his stomach, his head meeting the ground, his knuckles split on the second attempted impact at someone's face, he couldn't even tell who at this point. And then his wrists were pinned down, and he had to fight the stinging pain.

Eventually, it stopped. And someone's hand was on his chin. Nam-gyu's vision was turve, blurry. He couldn't exactly make out who was in front of him, just a big blur of colors before his vision somewhat focused, but never fully- maybe because Nam-gyu knew he needed stupid vision glasses.

"Now, don't be mad. This is only a lecture, nothing personal. You have until next month, Nam." The guy said as his fingers trailed down with a voice falsely dripping with gentleness, Nam-gyu would have scrunched his nose if it wasn't hurting so bad. 

The feeling of that finger, moving like a feather down his jaw, neck, trailing his collarbones so gently made Nam-gyu seriously want to puke. And then, it stopped right where his heart should be. "Otherwise we won't have a choice but to sell your organs, especially heart, to the black market. You're a shitty person, with an even shittier heart. You won't need it as much as someone else will."

Nam-gyu let the words sink in, panting and slightly wheezing for breath once the man stood up straight. "Alright, boys. Let's pack up and go, business is done around here." And then the sounds of footsteps, first loud and then slowly vanishing into the corner were picked up by his ears.

Nam-gyu slumped against the wall, the back of his hand wiping his bloody nose and his tongue licked his cracked lips, now split open at the bottom. He looked up at the sky, staying there in silence and unmoving for around five minutes, if he had to guess. 

"Fucking pussy, can't even come fight me alone." Nam-gyu finally uttered out to himself as he stood up with  the a grunt of effort, ignoring how sore and painful his muscles felt, this was nothing new. Nam-gyu deep down knew he deserved it, he was indebted and owed these guys.

He quietly walked back home, not bothering to light up another cigarette. He stared at the air with an emptied stare, this was and has been his life. Maybe that's where he realizes something inside of him is broken, maybe not. But life sucked, really fucking sucked. His job did, the people did, but it wasn't like he had a escape, hell, his money from work mostly went to drugs and sometimes he got so low he would barely have money to buy groceries, often opting for convenience stores because they were so cheap.

It took him a while, normally a walk from the club to his house was fifteen minutes. It was painful but Nam-gyu really didn't feel like sleeping in the middle of the street. The second he got home, his shoes were nowhere to be seen, maybe mingled in the mess of his other cheap ones. And his bag was thrown on the couch carelessly as he dragged himself to bed.

He didn't bother unbinding even if his ribs hurt like a fucking bitch. A groan left his lips, mixed with a sigh of relief as his eyes fluttered shut. Nam-gyu never had went to bed so.. 'dirty' but he couldn't help it when his eyes fluttered shut and he fell asleep almost instantly.

. . .

Sleep wasn't easy on him, like always. But tonight, due to the exhaustion, he might have slept a bit better. Like everyday, he was up at exactly six in the morning, taking a while to properly get up and go to the bathroom to do a proper hygiene.

Once he created enough motivation, he was back up on his feet, rubbing one of his eyes as he reached the bathroom. He turned on the tap and stared at himself in the mirror, split lip, a hint of a black eye, and dry blood around and in his nose. They really didn't go easy on him this time.

His hands moved to make a cup form to catch water, splashing it onto his face. The pointy feeling of the water waking him up somewhat, then he did it again just to make sure he was fully awake.

Opening the cabinet, he reached out for some already nearly ending bandages, three cotton pads and rubbing alcohol. He wetted one of the pads, sighing as it hovered close to his nose. He cleaned up the blood around it gently, the material gliding against his skin to clean the blood that once dirtied his face.

Other than that, he didn't bother with his other injuries, figuring he'd save the bandages and rubbing alcohol as he put them back in their designed places. Instead, he focused on brushing his teeth and brushing his hair, bothering to style it was dumb, so he never truly did.

As he moved back inside his bedroom, his mind was already thinking what to do for the day. He needed to go eat something, probably buy a few things. He didn't really pay attention to his outfit this time, nobody really would pay attention to him, or at least he hoped so.

Even then, he still reached for that face mask, he didn't feel like getting eyed for having a split lip despite having a whole ass black eye. Thankfully, his muscles were in agreement with him and weren't as sore as yesterday.

He didn't have much money, but he didn't mind it, he often got more high than bothered eating, maybe that's why he didn't gain much weight. But that was another topic, slipping the house keys inside his pocket, leaving.

He was greeted by a bit more chillier wind, good. He seriously couldn't handle horrendously humid weathers and far too hot ones that made you sweat in big amounts. But couldn’t handle too cold, too. So he had a jacket on anyways.

The breeze kissed his face as he moved, he liked weathers like this, something about it just made it comfortable.

The convenience store was around a five minute walk, good thing for him it wasn't that expensive either. He wasn't that hungry, sometimes he didn't even have an appetite and yet would still eat because if he were to wait, he would go quite a few times without eating.

Today, he opted for something lighter. A cup of microwaved tteok-bokki, and a roll of gimbap. Grabbing some water to drink with it along the way. He assumed he only grabbed enough money for breakfast, so groceries would sadly have to stay for another time.

He paid for it, sitting down by the table they left against the windowsill. Already opening his gimbap and taking one of the rolls inside his mouth while his fingers worked to open the tteok-bokki.

He added whatever was there to add, microwaved it, grabbed his chopsticks and began eating. His eyes focused on the view outside as he chewed, so many people and yet all of them had different lives.

Some of them were on shit like him, some were rich bastards, some were making enough to have a good life. All of these people looked happy, he wondered how come he couldn't be like them? Not that he envied them, it'd be wrong. He was in debt because of his own reasons, envying them would be stupid. But he meant it in a sense of being happy, enjoying the fleeting joys. Having someone, hanging out with friends on some cheap place, but then like that guy said yesterday, maybe someone else would enjoy having his organs better than he did.

As good as it was, he only finished his tteok-bokki halfway, and three rolls of gimbap were left. He neatly closed the gimbap with the plastic he hadn't yet discarded, trying to somewhat seal the container the tteok-bokki was in. 

He'd probably stay home for the rest of the day, lay down, sleep, contemplate his life. Well, at least that was his original plan. The universe however seemed to have another one. 

He was greeted by that same breeze when he stepped out, but this time, the scenario was far from pleasing. His head snapped as a blood curling scream came from somewhere in front of him, to the left. Followed by gurgling and squelching sounds. Everything around became chaos in question of seconds, people ran and screamed, and soon enough, he got a view of whatever the fuck was happening.

His eyes locked with a figure on the ground, bleeding in excess. The skin on their neck was broken, maybe bitten off. His eyes widened, the person was dead on spot.

But maybe just for a little while.

Nam-gyu didn't keep track of how long he spent standing there, maybe minutes. Chaos erupted around him, and yet he wasn't quite sure how he wasn't caught up in it. His ears tuned out the screams and cries, his vision blocked everything. He was solely focused on that person, dead on the ground.

And then they began standing up, movements all jerky, eyes white and lifeless. Making groaning sounds, shit, Nam-gyu wasn't even sure if that thing could be called human anymore.

By the time he snapped out of it, someone was already rushing into him, sending him tumbling down on his butt. He woke up to reality, shit, what the fuck was going on? 

Nam-gyu normally would think this was one of his all to real nightmares, just another one to the collection. But then, the sirens used to alarm the city began ringing, telling everyone to hide. 

His legs had never worked quickly despite the shock, maybe it was the adrenaline pumping in his veins that kept spreading when he saw people killing off each other, he stood up in a flash and was back inside the convenience store. 

He looked around frantically, someone could get in. He reached for one of the shelves, ignoring how he was knocking some food out. Pushing it until it was sturdy and firm against the door, hell, he even unplugged the refrigerator where the cold drinks were normally kept and to secure a second layer, pushed it against the shelf.

Now that was done. Nam-gyu finally let whatever the fuck happened sink in, "What the actual fuck." He mumbled to himself, breath shaky. He moved away from the door, checking for any other ways of getting inside, he only found a back door nearby the bathrooms. He covered it with some furniture, never having been so thankful that these doors opened from the inside.

He pulled his phone out, since it was buzzing in his pocket as notifications of alerts rang through it. Some saying stay at home, others saying evacuate. No way in fucking hell Nam-gyu would go anywhere out of that door.

Instead, he grabbed the fire extinguisher to use as some sort of weapon and sat in the middle of the store, trying to tune out the screams and sometimes the banging in the windows. He didn't look outside, nor at the glass doors, not at the windows. Knowing they'd likely be drenched in blood.

He turned the TV on, the channel was flicked to the news. Some woman was talking about a virus, fucking great. Viruses were bad, some weren't. But what kind of fucking virus made people die and come back from the fucking dead to eat others alive?

"Stay calm, and stay safe for now." The woman said, hell, as if Nam-gyu could be any calm.

He didn't leave the place even when he heard gunshots and sounds of cop car sirens blaring, eventually they were all replaced by screams and more sounds of gurgling and squelching as blood seeped out of their bitten skins. It was the most sane choice, he wouldn't trust some cops or even a journalist that was just reading a fucking script.

How many hours had he stayed in there? Nam-gyu wasn't totally sure. He fell asleep after hour one, not sure how he did it. Maybe it was because his brain had the urge to shut down, to do anything but hear the pleading and screams outside.

Three hours after that, he woke up. He was lying under  counter where the cashier was. The air was dead silent. Normally, Nam-gyu would think that it was all a  dream, just his mind playing tricks on him after getting that beating. 

But he woke up sleeping under the damn cashier, and reality seeped back in. It wasn't just a dream, no. It wasn't his mind playing cruel jokes on him. It was real.

He was careful to even stand up, steps slow and measured as he hunched over to get a glimpse outside from the window. He nearly couldn't stomach the sight, his lips parted open and eyes wide in shock. There was blood everywhere, people.. things, actually. Were limping, crawling, or just dragging themselves around the streets. Some people were gutted out, dead on the floor. The sight was fucking horrifying, even for someone like Nam-gyu.

"I'm so fucked." Nam-gyu muttered, maybe he was. He got lucky to be inside a convenience store, getting in here as a safe okace without even thinking. He had water, food, bathrooms, everything necessary. But he knew it wouldn't really last forever, he just created that illusion to feel at ease on day one.

The people he thought that were dead just.. came back. What a sick irony, death didn't fully claim them. Maybe the heavens listened to the pleading of the living when they wanted their loved ones to be back from the dead in flesh.

All these people who died.. they were dead, but their bodies wandered alive. And the things that came back weren't people, Nam-gyu guessed it was safe to assume they weren't people. Their conscience and form were just gone for a little while.

[butraura]

In hindsight, we should have seen this coming, even disregarding the funeral spoilers that were live-streamed weeks ago.

We should have seen it coming because season 8 has made a spectacle time and time again of making fun of the viewers.

Between Hotshots mirroring the real show, the fanboy that had to be talked down by The Brad Torrence, the pointed dialogue that directly addresses the viewer (“as much as everyone wants me to be pining for my straight best friend”, or “no offense, I’m straight”, for example), and the half-assed, half-baked, half-finished subplot to help Athena grieve (whilst simultaneously poking fun at the fans that insist/ed Bobby is still alive), it’s evident that Tim Minear had a bone to pick with the fans and used season 8 to do it.

The front half of the season was sillier; it had the bee-nado, it had Billy Boils, it had the Risky Business dance. It had its serious moments (Denny’s NDE comes to mind), but they were peppered carefully among the episodes so as not to feel too heavy-handed. The back half of season 8 has been gut punch after gut punch. Maddie’s NDE, Chimney’s NDE, Eddie leaving for Texas, Eddie hardly being in the episodes at all, Bobby getting closure with his mother, and now the main character death no one wanted and no one asked for, followed by egregious mischaracterization of, well, everyone really. A funeral scene that was given to us for less time than it took Buck and Eddie to clear the bees off the car in Buzzkill. A funeral scene that was about twice as long as Bobby’s death scene and still barely cracked five minutes out of 42.

Tim Minear is laughing at the audience like the God he believes he is. Except he isn’t benevolent, he is evil, and he is getting revenge for God-knows-what by way of ruining the show in one fell swoop.

The show won’t go past season 9 now, despite its initial trajectory that was so high it could have run another ten years. Maybe he’s tired, I don’t know. But instead of treating the characters with care, he’s ruined them all, and he may as well have killed them all with Bobby in that building.

Even if he fixes it now somehow, even if Bobby is miraculously alive and being experimented on in some government facility, even if we find out with irrefutable proof that this was Tim Minear’s plan along and not some tape-and-glue fix-it to correct the course of the show… it doesn’t matter now. He’s lost the trust of the audience, of the cast, and likely the executives at ABC who initially fought him on killing Bobby.

Perhaps, with his next project (if there indeed IS a next project), he’ll tread lightly.

He may be laughing at us now, but we get to move on with our lives after this. This could be career-ending for him. Only time will tell.

[wistfulcynic]

a non-izzy-centric reading of the events of season two

i didn't really want to get into this because it's so, so tiresome and i'd rather talk about the things i loved about this season. Poison, positivity, etc. But.

reading this post about people doubting their own judgement due to the overwhelming noise from Izzy stans along with a rewatch of season two from start to finish made me realise that i too had been influenced by a year and a half of being intensely frustrated by people insisting so loudly that OFMD was in fact the Izzy Hands Show. My initial issues with S2 mostly stemmed from overcompensating for that by resenting any development of Izzy on the screen because i did not want it to feed those people. Which meant that i also was centring Izzy in a way that he should not be centred! i was letting their noise lead me to read him as far more important than he actually is.

So i looked back at several points from the season that had me feeling uncomfortable and which, from a cursory browse through the Izzy tag i've concluded his stans see as a contradiction or a betrayal or something and re-evaluated them from the perspective of Izzy not being a main fucking character.

point one: "He's our dick."

When Archie (a newcomer and therefore a fairly effective audience stand-in for anyone not balls deep in fandom bullshit) asks Jim why they're going to so much trouble for Izzy, who she has immediately clocked as "kind of a dick", Jim gives this response. Which, if you think Izzy is important, may read as an expression of reluctant fondness. But then, Jim continues: "There was a time when life meant something on this ship. When we lived for each other, not just to survive." These lines are punctuated by a flashback to the famous Revenge crew found-family Renaissance-painting moment. Jim is nostalgic for the "good old days" of the Revenge under Stede's people-positive management style. It is out of respect for that (seemingly) lost way of life that they take the trouble for Izzy, not for Izzy himself. They'd have done the same for anyone, because they desperately want life to matter again. Izzy, as the person whose gamy leg is a direct result of his threatening Ed and bringing the kraken era down on all of them, is simply the one whose life happens to be on the line.

(honestly, i love this from Jim, who was one of Stede's boldest detractors in season one and still the crew member most likely to call him out on his bullshit. That's your "reluctant fondness" moment right there.)

point two: the new unicorn

apparently Izzy stans see the gift of the unicorn leg prosthetic as a symbol of deep love and respect from the crew to Izzy. Which is an absolutely wild reading when you look at what led up to it.

There's tension on the ship. Divisions. Lucius is chain-smoking and jump-scared by his own shadow. Jim, Archie, Frenchie, and Fang are overcome by guilt over their mutiny and frantically scrubbing nonexistent blood from the deck in what is a fantastically darkly funny Lady Macbeth moment for them. Izzy is sloppy drunk and yelling nonsensical abuse at the unicorn masthead. Roach, Pete, Oluwande, and Wee John make a well-intentioned but ill-conceived attempt to bring everyone back together (i say "everyone" but Izzy, significantly, is not included) which leads to them all being at each other's throats in the sort of mutually-assured-destruction configuration that starts world wars. It's a great scene. Izzy is not a part of it.

until he interrupts them, throws the unicorn legs at them and in his drunken clumsiness breaks his prosthetic. He then pointedly refuses their offers of assistance and drags himself away along the floor by his arms.

my friends. This is peak pathos. The crew do not respect Izzy in this moment, they feel sorry for him. They realise that he's worse off than any of the rest of them and that knowledge brings them back together. Making the unicorn prosthetic is barely about Izzy at all. It's about the crew coming together, repairing the rifts in their found family and as a bonus helping out their grumpy second cousin who doesn't really want to be there but has nowhere else to go. It's also a very generous offer of a new place on the ship--as the new unicorn--and a fresh start. Because that's what life on the Revenge is. For everyone.

point three: la vie en rose

much has been made of Izzy putting on drag makeup and singing at the Calypso birthday party, and fair enough. That's a big character development point for him. i don't hate it, though i wish there'd been more build-up to it, a longer conversation between Izzy and Wee John at least (insert obligatory "fuck Max" here) but regardless, if we accept Izzy's amputated leg as cutting off his old self and replacing it with the unicorn then we can arrive at a place where he's able to participate in a drag performance without too much cognitive gymnastics.

i've written before about the curious choice to have Izzy sing La Vie En Rose in French (after he initially sang it in English) at the very moment when Ed and Stede are having sex for the first time. On first watch i felt viscerally troubled by it, it felt like a validation of the obsessive psychosexual reading of Izzy's feelings for Ed. Looking at the season as a whole, it feels more like a (cringy, creepy, waaaay over the line) attempt on his part to signal approval for Ed and Stede's relationship. Especially when taken in conjunction with his (super creepy, like wtf who greenlit this) interruption of their breakfast in bed the next morning to make a ham-fisted innuendo. Weird but okay i guess, it's not like Izzy and social niceties have ever gone hand in hand.

many people point to the drag scene as the crew embracing Izzy and welcoming him as one of them. Again, i don't disagree. But, also again, this is not specific to Izzy. This is just what they do. They also embraced Archie with her snake-cult stories, they re-embraced Ed (who yes, they do love, refutations of arguments that they don't love Ed are a whole other essay though) and later they embrace Zheng and Auntie and also Jackie who once stole their savings jar and threatened to cut off their noses. That's what they do! They embrace people! That's what the show is about!

point four: the death scene

i have to be honest, i still hate this. i don't hate that Izzy died, i hate that he died in Ed's arms with Ed calling him his only family. That still feels unearned to me, and alas was probably another victim of the shortened season. But even with this extremely kind and forgiving death scene, the stans are not satisfied! They feel that the entire crew should have been gathered round, assuring Izzy of their profound love for him. There should have been weeping at the funeral, wailing and gnashing of teeth, rending of garments etc. It's what he deserves as such a beloved member of the crew!

except he wasn't beloved. He was accepted, yes. Welcomed, even. But acceptance is a far cry from love. Cheering as someone sings a song at a party does not mean you feel ready to weep at their deathbed or proclaim your undying affection for them.

yet even so, the crew are visibly distraught at his death scene. There are tears in many eyes! But effusive declarations of feeling from any one of them other than Ed would have felt (to anyone not convinced Izzy is the main character) completely wrong and very weird. You can headcanon what you like to fill the gaps in canon but on screen we have seen very few meaningful interactions between Izzy and any of the existing crew aside from Fang and Lucius and to a lesser extent Wee John. Izzy's primary relationship with another character is with Ed and so, as much as i still don't like it, Ed is the only one who has any real reason to be at Izzy's side as he dies.

as for the brevity of the funeral and the fact that they went straight from it to Pete and Lucius's wedding instead of having, idk, a prolonged wake at which everyone speaks at length about how important Izzy was to them, i mean. Obviously that wasn't going to happen. More than enough screen time had already been given to a side character who spent most of it either being miserable himself or making others so. It was time for the rest of them to find some moments of joy. As Izzy himself said, not moving on is worse.

in conclusion, i'd like to address the people saying that Izzy should have lived so he could continue his arc of self-discovery and sure, that would have been great--on the Izzy Hands Show. But OFMD is about Ed and Stede and Izzy had served his purpose in their story. i feel certain there will be copious fanfics to soothe anyone who feels Izzy was shortchanged.

on the show, though, he was treated in a very logical and foreseeable way as the antagonist who was able to see the light at the end but not necessarily to thrive in such a well-lit environment. Literature (by which i mean also films and tv) abounds with examples of this sort of character. They see the error of their ways but they are too stuck in them, shaped by them, to exist comfortably in any other way. They help bring about change to benefit others and not for themselves, that is the bittersweet beauty of their endings.

Izzy let Ed go. He embraced the softer parts of himself. He died surrounded by people who may not have loved him but at least accepted him as one of their own and felt genuine sorrow about his passing. That is a satisfying narrative end for a reformed antagonist! If you truly feel that he was shortchanged by it then you have forgotten what show you're watching and what sort of character he was.

Izzy Hands: not the main character, still an interesting one, absolute nightmare, what a guy.