#you would NOT believe how hard it is to find a gif of the og mk anime (not the 14.12 versions and not the detco eps/movies)

[sweetchcolate]

rules: without naming them, post 10 gifs of your favourite tv shows, then tag people

tagged by @smolhours~ Thank you for thinking of me! <3 I tried to spice things up by mixing some lesser-known faves with the classics ^^

Anyone's free to try this too! Interested in the series people will pick 👀👀

[the-moon-files]

Linked Universe / GN!Reader - Random Headcanons abt the Chain! :)

Part 1 / Part 2 (ur here!) / Part 3

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Hyrule, Time, Fierce Deity, Twilight, Warriors

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: light cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

☆

Hyrule (The Legend of Zelda - OG game, Zelda II: Adventures of Link):

Lost easily, obviously, you know this

What you didnt know was that its very easy to get lost with him

Bc he's so excited/curious for new sights he doesnt give any fucks abt where he is, so it devolves into that "wait, I thought YOU were leading us there?? Then where tf are we??!!" very quickly

Does feel bad he stressed u out smtimes but he somehow manages to get into such wild shit that Hyrule's kinda preoccupied being confused/amazed/finding his way out, or any combo of these situations (once again, usually with you unfortunately)

Is the luckiest when it comes to getting lost or anything to do with "natural" things

Like he heard u rlly like this one fruit? Accidentally gets lost all day and panics all the Links + You until he shows up at midnight with a shirtful of them

("I found a few fruit trees/plants in the woods while wandering! I tried to grab a few for you and before I knew it, it was dark, sorry...")

Likes learning little skills from other people, like learning how to do makeup from Legend, or how to spot collections of rupees the Minish have left somewhere from Four, or how walk on any terrain from Wind (good at walking on a ship, on land, climbing etc)

More of a "sunset" hiker than a "sunrise" one

Likes to do your hair! Whether that be braiding, putting accessories (he handmade shhh) thruout it, or helping with hair maintenance, likes how strangely intimate but domestic it feels together with you (u return the favor ofc)

(All the other heroes are looking at you both like kicked puppies jfcccc🙄)

Time (Ocarina of Time, Majora's Mask):

Gets anxious if he's late to things, likes being fashionably early (or ungodly, when u let him get away with it)

Has absolutely been that meme from Parks and Recreation where he's like "Alright. I'm not mad, I just wanna know. Who broke it?"

(Abt the coffee pot for the camp)

Knowing full and well-

"I broke it. It burnt my coffee for the 3rd morning in a row, so I punched it. I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with war paint on their faces and a moblin head on a stick. ...good. It was getting a little chummy around here."

MF LOVES GOSSIP (wouldn't admit this even at swordpoint)

Wars has absolutely been the person in the meme of:

Wars: "...why would you tell me this??"

Time: "Bc no one will ever believe you."

Wars: ...😦

Has a resting bitch face and knows it, actively cultivates it, scary dog privileges for you,

Type to take ur side in whatever situation ur in, even when Time has no idea whats going on, always, without question <3

The same height as First, (Twi's a close 2nd), and feels most secure when the 3 of you are at the front of the group, but First/Time are slightly in front of you

Like ur literally the person walking their 2 huge scary doobermans/mastiffs one leash in each hand basically 💀

(Once again, Link is deeply comforted by ur voice just over his shoulder/just hearing u even without seeing you)

Very subtly sarcastic, u dont even know he made a dig at you until 3-5 business days later

Likes ur sarcasm more than anyone else's in the group, or even his own lol

Fierce Deity (Majora's Mask):

Likes music, any music (amused at drunk karaoke)

Casually cradles ur arms or back whenever ur falling asleep/tripping/being clumsy near him

Very warm and smoothed calloused hands

Thinks abt what he's about to say so hard/long, that the conversation's moved on by like, 3 rounds/subject changes by the time he's actually ready to talk

Scolds ppl (in like a sentence) who neglect their needs, like sleeping/eating/hygiene

Finds peace in nature, if hes ever upset, u can bet he's already taking a walk by a stream

Likes teaching u/other Links little skills he has, its nice to feel appreciated/needed for something other than fighting or big moments

He falls in love with small moments, like the first time u made them all a dessert recipe from ur world, or repaired First's scarf (for the millioneth time) and bc everyone had gotten their clothes scratched up, everyone needed repairs so most Links were sewing smth lol

Enjoys watching ppl experience smth for the first time, or even himself exp smth for first time

Fierce smiled fully for the first time when you got into the mountain hot springs in Wild's Hyrule for the first time and were super excited

Also the type to hold ur hand while stepping in to make sure u dont fall, or just subtly boost a Link that was abt to fall from climbing smth

Like for being the tallest, he's surprisingly sneaky, the energy of the biggest cat in the house yet somehow also the quietest

Does that thing where someone takes ur hand and like massages ur fingers, palm, wrist and shakes them out kinda for you <3

Twilight (Twilight Princess):

Trips UP the stairs.

Cold start LMAO

ok ill be nice to him,, sike

Easy to bully?? U mean that kindly, he's just such a golden retriever sometimes u cant help urself (tho u make sure to reign it in and not take advantage of it so as not to genuninely hurt him)

Lol likes to "herd" his favorite people, like those dogs livestock farmers have u kno that they say end up herding their owners/their family lol

Like making subtle circles around the Chain, wrapping an arm around Hyrule and teasing him to quietly bring him back into the group before he gets lost,

Tugs on Time's armor to slow him down, mf may be in armor head to toe but he'll outpace all of u 💀

Likes to put his hand on ur lower back to guide u back into the group from whatever scenic thing u got distracted by

(so sue you, ur literally in The Legend of Zelda's Hyrule, surrounded by pretty blondes, why tf wouldnt you be distracted all the time??)

The only time he doesnt herd actively is in Ordon, just subconciously lol <3

Terrible sleep schedule, but sleeps like the dead when he does, has collapsed with a limb on top of you and u couldnt escape

Hard time waking up in the morning despite being country boy, who usually have to do chores first thing in morning on a farm

hates/envious of Wild (up at 5am even on days off?? Foul.)

Runs warm, but complains abt a slight breeze?

Would sleep with no covers if it werent for morning dew

Wishes cats liked him more (its the wolf smell)

Twi has the constant energy of a tall person carefully maneuvering around cluttered/low doorways while someone a head shorter runs by him and bounces off of him

U get onto/scold the Links and he's immediately the first to just sit on the ground, or put down whatever he's holding no matter what he's doing LMAO 😭😭

Keeps his eyes on u too the whole time lol

Warriors (Hyrule Warriors):

Cries over romance novels/dramas

A virgo in all stereotypes of the word tbh

Invented the red-string conspiracy theory board before the red-string conspiracy board existed in Hyrule

Also likes to take care of your hair! (What?? He and 'Rulie don't fight over ur hair, that'd be childish, he's not a foolish boy- Hyrule, hand over the brush.👹)

Remembers the little things abt u type of person, like ur favorite drink, ur favorite stories like tv shows/books even if theyre from ur world, ur favorite clothing pieces like shorts vs. pants, etc.

The only Link who can single handedly claim he could take your closet and dress you in something you'd actually wear.

Honestly once he got the hang of it, would get better at dressing you, than you

(Another domestic thing he adores, picking outfits for u/finding that perfect piece of clothing you've been needing lately)

Born to night-owl, forced to morning-bird 😔

Wars wakes up stiff sometimes bc soldier training is sleeping on ur back, hands to ur sides, laying straight in ur bed, so as to fit into bunks/bedrolls close together

It got better as he was promoted to Captain, so he could have his own quarters but its still a hard habit to shake

One of the few Links who works up the courage to genuinely pitfully ask if you'd mind massaging his shoulders again? He slept badly last night, please?? 🥺👉👈

(Ur so weak for pathetic hurting pretty blonde twinks lol)

The most lowkey abt taking care of Chain, but u make sure to take care of him as a gift back, and you've definitely caught him tearing up abt it 💖

☆

Debated writing smth else first but figured this was easy and short and i started it first so youll have to wait like one more post before more Masc Reader stuff guys 😔

Dw its coming, i havent abandoned u my homies out there 🫂

Let me know what u think in the comments of my slight characterizations here!

Im struggling to conceptualize their personalities so thats acc part of why i started to write smaller stuff like this first! :)

Peace out,

🌙

[sokkastyles]

ATLA LA Ep 3 Thoughts:

I actually did really like the intro to Azula. The way the camera focused on her watching the rebels burn alive with cold satisfaction felt so true to the original character. The scene itself felt ameutuerish so it was hard for me to believe in the stakes of it. Like, who is this random kid with a ragtag bunch of misfits and why is the royal family so personally invested in him that Azula would even bother?

On that note, here comes Ozai's speech from the trailer. Again, everything feels too low-stakes for me to believe Ozai would even bother justifying himself to this kid. It's a nice speech, but it feels like it was written for the trailer and then plopped into the scene.

"Do not speak to me of loss." Love that line (although again, it feels too good for the scene). I fully believe Ozai believes that he is the ultimate victim in his life.

I was already spoiled for this and knew I would hate it but not only is Ozai praising Zuko to Azula a change from the original dynamic, it also does not make a lot of sense even if he's just trying to fuel Azula's insecurities. I can't imagine Zhao's letter puts Zuko in a good light. The Ozai of the original show would most likely focus on what Zuko didn't do (didn't capture the Avatar) and that he actually did find Aang and lost him would only be more fuel for Ozai to see him as a failure. In the original show, Ozai has a golden child/scapegoat dynamic with Azula and Zuko, respectively. And in this type of dynamic, even the scapegoat's accomplishments are subject to ridicule by the parent, and sometimes even intentionally sabotaged by the parent. This is why, in the original show, when Ozai hears that Zuko found and then lost Aang, he sends Azula to bring Zuko back as a prisoner, dubbing him a failure. The fact that Zuko got close to Aang both highlights how he didn't succeed in Ozai's eyes and is a threat to Ozai's need to make him a scapegoat, so it makes sense that when the possibility of actually succeeding at what Ozai thought was an impossible task is on the table, Ozai would pull Zuko back. I understand that the show is trying to "humanize" Azula but it actually trivializes the abuse both Azula and Zuko experienced to make it about what Zuko or Azula did instead of about how Ozai sees them, because abuse is never about how good the kids are at pleasing the parent, it is about the parent's insecurities and desire to take that out on a vulnerable party.

It also makes it kinda funny when Azula is like "lol Zuko didn't do shit." I'm not convinced this would actually work as the psychological manipulation it is intended to be because it would be too easy for both Ozai and Azula to brush off this as yet another Zuko failure. You just KNOW Zhao's letter was like "dear firelord, guess what your incompetent son did this time, neener neener."

I also understand that they're changing things, but you can't change Zuko's dynamic with Ozai this much and still have him burn Zuko's face. Publicly humiliating and physically mutilating someone you intend to be your heir is just not logical, and I don't believe that even Ozai is that dumb.

Aang is so cute I just. I do miss Katara's anger and thought we would see a flash of it when Aang went all "just feel your feelings" but it makes sense that she doesn't get mad at him because he admits he's not the best teacher because he never really needed to listen to his teachers, instead of OG Aang who was not very self aware about being a prodigy and that frustrated Katara, who had to work much harder.

I feel like they are building the antagonism between Zuko and Zhao instead of having them be rivals right off the bat like in the original. Which makes sense if the show wants to explain something that was not explained in the original, but I do miss the hints of a shared history from the original even if it was never explained. Not everything needs an explanation.

"Allow me to contact a few trusted sources." LOL Zhao stay sleazy.

Oh, I love Zuko getting mad at Jee for "gossiping about a superior officer" right after he does that himself. They really nailed Zuko as someone who is so desperately insecure about his own vulnerabilities that he vacillates very quickly between uncertainty and obnoxious swagger, and Liu portrays it seamlessly.

Aang info dumping about Omashu <3

Oh, it's Jet.

Sokka, Katara was supportive about YOUR crush just a few minutes ago, what gives??

I expect 100k fake married in Omashu jetkotara on my desk by morning.

Teo precious bb

The subplot with the bombings does bring an urgency to how the war has really affected people.

Azula absolutely would be two steps ahead and ready to undermine Zuko from afar behind her father's back even if she doesn't believe he's a real threat. That's not so different from the original.

"Uncle Iroh and I will go." 100k jetkotara fake dating.

Jet is such an inherently ridiculous character. I can't decide if the merging of his plotline with the machinist makes things more complex or less. On one hand, Jet is more obviously wrong. On the other, I like that Sokka's conflict is focused on his relationship with the machinist instead of acting the overprotective big brother with Jet.

The machinist encouraging Sokka to follow his talents, aw! Sokka is so clearly missing his dad and in search of guidance.

Love the Aang and Teo scenes

"We don't have to be afraid of our pain." This scene is so zutara-coded, I'm sorry. Still don't like that Katara has to be told about her own bending by the boys in her life. But the thing with her mom was nice.

"Father would never approve of these under-handed tactics." Oh, honey.

Azula and Zhao! Zhao and Jee! The betrayal! The drama!

The scarf!

"Things might get a little hot for us around here." When will the fanfic be on my desk, I ask you?

Aang being like "Zuko I read your diary, who hurt you?"

The first time we see Iroh firebend is to save people while sacrificing himself.

There was a lot of entertaining stuff in this episode! Unfortunately the mixing of several plot points and merging of what was before episodic content into a long two parter that takes up a fourth of the season makes the world seem smaller, but that was kind of inevitable when you adapt a show like this. The show still feels rather directionless, although there was one mention of getting to the North Pole this episode.

[oh-my-damn]

Hi mod! Because you are one of the most level headed people here and your opinions are always well thoughtful, what is your take on what is going in now (in real time as we can see) ? I was skeptical but all this follows and stories and pics .. i dont know anymore.. its hard for Me to think that He would marry her with the points of view she and her besties have … (its about CE btw)

Welp I'm not gonna lie, it's all looking very, very strange

However, I do think there is a real possibility they are going for the Tom Brady celebration and that Chris is throwing a bash afterwards. I see it like this: Chris has a very, very parasocial relationship to Tom Brady (much like we do to him) and has always been super super invested and crazy about him (even to the point where he was ASKED about how he felt about Tom being a Trump supporter in a fucking interview. And Chris was disappointed but still loved him. It's absolutely a parasocial relationship)

Considering the many, many parties he throws in general for random reasons, I find it very very probable that he would throw a bash at his house after the game today, where Tom Brady will be present for the first time as a spectator, and they have said in articles it's going to be "a huge celebration of Tom Brady."

Now, why would some of his co-stars be there? Even the ones who aren't super football enthusiasts? (Renner is easy, he's gone to games with Chris before, but RDJ and Hemmy is more strange)

I honestly think they saw it as a chance of press and a reunion. They've all said before how hard it is for them to get together now. They're all on break from working which means none of them have any other engagements to keep them away. They also have no other ways of getting press in the media, other than feeding articles etc. Going to the game, getting photographed etc is a great way to get some press during this off time. And then afterwards a party with their old pals as a reunion, perhaps even staying in Boston for a few days to hang out etc, since no one is working currently. I don't find it far-fetched that Hemmy and RDJ would go for that, considering how close they all were/are.

Hemmy bringing his mom is also curious to me - we didn't see his wife, but his mom. Interesting.

As for the vendor/MUA/hairstylist thing; one of them posted the story WITH A GOAT which was cut out when it was shared on here (🙄 for obvious reasons. Certain blogs on here are trolls and legit just looking to rile you up, please stop believing them) and others are coming because I do believe it's going to be a big, big event. I do believe there will be a lot of celebs showing up, like Wimbledon, in order to get some press and attention. They can't promote their works so this is a great way to get their names out there.

I also think it would be odd if the OG's would come now, to the game (if thats the case) when the "wedding" was supposed to happen soon. Why would they go like two weeks before only to go back home and then come back? That's weird. Unless they actually got married already this weekend, in which case the whole MUA/vendors/hairstylist thing makes no sense. It also doesn't make sense they would go so soon or late to the wedding, depending on when you think it would be. Do we honestly think he's throwing a massive 500 people wedding on a week day?? (lets put aside that if thats the case then he's clearly not the person he's put himself up to be because no "grounded down to earth" person would throw a massive wedding spanning over several days like that)

I don't know man. The entire thing is weird.

Not to mention this is all coming right after we found out he in fact DID NOT go on the Bermuda trip and the proof has been out there all along. And yet "sources" came and said they had seen them there. Even if these sources were remotely close to him, how would they not know of the picture posted of him on that private account that went publicly for a VERY short time yesterday (just enough for the fandom to find that post)

It's all fucking weird.

Technically, we haven't seen them within the same vicinity since the Ghosted premiere. They haven't spoken on it or posted anything, either, other than her picture of Dodger which was during the winter.

It's odd all around. I have no idea what to make of it.

But if he does marry her or already did bla bla bla, it says a lot about him. Not just because she's a racist who associates with racists, but also because of how young she looks. It says a lot about him if he's not just attracted to her but chose to marry her.

If they did, I give it 5 years. Tops. Once she's served her breeding bunny purpose it'll fall apart.

[mschanelbag]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐋 sat in her seat with a relaxed and reserved smile across her soft glammed visage, resting her custom designer bag and lipgloss down onto the table before waiting on the countdown. at the sound of three, the camera would begin rolling, and anything that would flow from her shimmery pair could possibly be used against her. ❝ ight, man. let’s get it, this is the power 1.06 lift off show and today we have LA’s own, and my sister, 𝒔𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒆 in the studio. wassup, girl? ❞

❝ wassup? i’m happy to be here, it’s always nice to come back to where i started. this station was the first to invite me out, so i always have to come visit. it means a lot. ❞ appreciative of the platform they’d given her time and time again, she knew she was in good hands to kickstart her promo run.

❝ you came out swinging with two new singles. ‘my best’, which dropped this past friday. then there’s another release coming this friday, ‘is it the way’. talk to me about ‘my best’ first, hard record by the way. ❞

❝ i appreciate that. um, well—‘my best’ was originally made during a time where i wasn’t feeling or doing my best. i’m a believer in manifestation through music, […] my fans tell me it’s reminiscent of og saweetie, so i’m happy with it. ❞

❝ i was getting ready to say that it sounds a bit like your older freestyles, but evolved and grownup. are you in a better mental space now than you were back when you recorded this? you look pretty happy to me. ❞

❝ i have my days. i definitely made it out the funk i was in, but life has a way of throwing curveballs and shake everything back up. that’s why i find it important to speak greater things into existence and make feel-good music. with ‘my best’, i want my fans to understand that i’m human just like them— […] but as long as you believe the best is yet to come, you’ll make it through anything. ❞

❝ that’s dope and a true testament to your brand. i mean you’ve been pretty consistent at uplifting women in your music since icy girl days. i can assume that’s what ‘is it the way’ is about as well, huh? ❞

❝ of course. my music will always cater to the pretty girls who’s getting to the bag while balancing ups and downs of life—‘cause we all have those. with ‘is it the way’, i intend on using my platform to show young girls and women that we’re in control, […] no matter the way we walk, talk, dress, act—we have the power. ❞

❝ i fuck with that, i really do. your voice is important, especially being one of the biggest cali-bred women in rap. speaking of california, you recently hosted your first ‘NANi night’ out here in LA to celebrate your new single. we saw the likes of chloë bailey, emerie, and spice in attendance—how was that and do you plan hosting more of those going forward? ❞

❝ we need to put you on payroll, ‘cause i definitely have thought about hosting more nani nights. in different places though, like i want to take it to the east coast and south as well. i have a lot of things coming up that i’d love to celebrate, so stay tuned for the deets. ❞

❝ alright, alright. well invite me next time, dammit! that’s how you treat family? nah, i’m messin’ with you. but, hold up—while on the topic of spice, fans noticed you recently unfollowed her, is there a reason why? ❞

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐋 cleared her throat and casually side-eyed her team behind the cameras, a smile slowly creeping across her facial features. ❝ umm, what happened to family? ❞ visibly uncomfortable with being put on the spot, like everything else going on in her personal life, she allowed the question to roll off her back. ❝ i mean, what is there to talk about? you follow people you want to see down your timeline and you unfollow people you don’t, and i just think her lease is up. next question. ❞ she mimicked her rap counterpart in her recent interview when asked of their friendship, shrugging her shoulders while uncapping her kombucha.

with his hands up as a signal of surrender, the interviewer glanced down at his notecard before realizing he had enough time for one more question. ❝ alright, that’s fair. before we wrap this up, what can the fans expect from you during this last half of the year? ❞

❝ more music, for sure. i’m on a search for the right sound for my album, which is why i’ve been releasing a lot of work. outside of music, i have something huge that i can’t speak on just yet, but i will very soon. more nani nights, a birthday next month. exciting things are happening, i’m a blessed girl. ❞

❝ well, you always have a home here at power 1.06. come back when the album drop, don’t forget about us. thank you for coming through as always, give it up for 𝒔𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒆! ❞

[psychewritesbs]

It's the JJK writing ask one here! I really like reading your thoughts on the matter and truly give me a lot of great insight. I did want a little more of hakari during his fight when i saw your hakari panel insert (hehe i love him) but he's very entertaining. I honestly believe I will always adore the story despite my own personal issues with it because although I want to see its ending, I have enjoyed reading it when I started it. I really like what you said about failing and I agreed immensely with that. This is more personal, but I do believe that failure leads to growth and I'm curious to see what he can do in the future. I can try and imagine his reasoning for going the way he did with cg but spending that time doing that just seems kind of pointless when the manga is still ongoing. I do try to balance my negatives with my positives and take the story as it is. After all, we won't be certain if the cg was more than he could chew or not until the story is probably done. But, yes, wanting the destination has been a thought I like to selfishly indulge in and I'm terribly impatient I must say haha! Despite my own personal frustrations, I can't say I like having too many expectations, especially regarding jjk. Whether it's intentional or not, gege kind of keeps me on my toes and it can be pretty fun after a while whether I end up liking it or not Authors can be really spontaneous when it comes to their stories and we don't really know what changes they undergo especially as people or in a mangakas case how harsh they take the industry in general and how it affects their choices when it comes to their story. My optimism is not always up to 100%, but i do believe that while criticism is natural and i encourage it to have really rich dicsussions, a constant state of negativity for any series isn't all that beneficial. Anyway, I still love thinking about JJK and thank you for reading all my word vomits, I really appreciate it and you. If it's no trouble I might have another ask in regards to hana/yuji/megumi.

HOLA HOLA!

Yessssss for insights! 

Hiding the word vomit under the cut :)

So glad we both vomit words like there’s no tomorrow 🤮dfkjsd ;bgs.

“This is more personal, but I do believe that failure leads to growth”

Honestly? This is one of the things I struggle with the most. Sometimes I have such a hard time just allowing myself to not be perfect and giving myself the grace of being a flawed human.

GASP WHAT IF I FAIL AND OTHERS CAN SEE HOW HUMAN I AM?!

The irony is that I am such a romantic about fictional characters that are depicted as “flawed humans”.

Also. Don't let me fool you tho. I'm totally such a shit talker 😂.

I recently finished a Gundam Seed re-watch that left me perplexed. 

I’ve come to the conclusion that the writers were both REALLY GOOD because they wrote the kind of melodramatic masterpiece that only a melodramatic teenage girl would love, but also REALLY BAD because they wrote the kind of melodramatic masterpiece that only a melodramatic teenage girl would love.

But to go back to my point of “what is good enough for you?” and finding reasons to love a story... while I won’t be watching Gundam Seed any time soon (or quite possibly ever again unless it’s in fast forward or in gifsets), the re-watch was totally worth it because the show has one of my OG anime crushes and OG OTPs. 

In my opinion, both Athrun as an individual, Cagalli as an individual, and the pairing itself actually happen to have some of the best writing in the series--I seriously think these two carry the show on their shoulders in terms of writing ability.

Shameless Athrun and Cagalli plug because I have been looking for an excuse to use this gif because it’s one of my favorite scenes with them. Also, did I mention they make me fangirl like a melodramatic teenage girl?

Point being, I’ve been vocal about the writing being bad in Gundam Seed and I think all 15 people still engaging in the fandom have probably blocked me by now bahaha.

So... yeah: 

“I do believe that while criticism is natural and i encourage it to have really rich dicsussions, a constant state of negativity for any series isn't all that beneficial”

I totally agree with you and love how you put it :)

“Despite my own personal frustrations, I can't say I like having too many expectations, especially regarding jjk. Whether it's intentional or not, gege kind of keeps me on my toes and it can be pretty fun after a while whether I end up liking it or not”

Yessssss. This is what I’ve always loved about JJK.

Unpredictable story-telling my beloved. 

I think another thing that’s helped me stay with JJK a lot is that I can self-insert my psyche into Megumi’s character. I simply adore Megumi.

Have I mentioned that before? Yes? Ok. No worries I’ll probably say it again a bunch more times lol.

I simply adore Megumi and think he’s stupidly beautifully written.

“If it's no trouble I might have another ask in regards to hana/yuji/megumi.”

Awesome, I’ll do my best to answer if if you do get around to sending it!

Good talk good talk!

Thanks again for vomiting words with me, Recurring Anon :)

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

i've started watching the last leg because you speak so highly of it, and i'm obsessed. my current thoughts are:

-you're right, adam hills would be amazing on taskmaster. -i cannot believe they had boris johnson on. like. i saw it happen and yet its so bizarre to me. -adam and alex doing impersonations of josh made me choke on my sandwich laughing why are impressions of him always so funny -i've only seen josh on taskmaster and hypothetical, but the more i find out about him the more it feels like im looking in a mirror (english, short, unruly hair, scared of balloons, wearer of plaid shirts, strange hand gestures, sits on one foot etc) -adams many attempts at accents never cease to amuse me. i think my favourite so far is "i'm absolutely devasted... and slightly south african" from the greek financial crisis bit. -live shows normally make me anxious because you cant cut out awkward moments but i genuinely love when you can hear one of them (usually alex tbh) still giggling at a joke in the background even when they move onto another section. -i feel like now they've definitely gotten into their stride but i do miss the early series "what the hell are we doing" vibes (i really want to watch the og 2012 series but i get the impression that thats lost forever.) -i spent five series waiting for the sofa's awkwardly positioned armrest to catch someone out, thanks alan davies i knew i could rely on you to comically sit on thin air

sorry this is so long, i've completely fallen in love with this show and i feel like i could go on forever. anyway basically yeah thank you so much for making this show accessible and talking about it because now my entertainment is sorted for at least the next month.

This is an absolutely lovely message, thank you for writing it! First of all, never apologize for dropping something like this in my inbox (or ask box, or whatever). If you like something I like, I love hearing about that! If you like something like that and it’s because my blog got you into it, telling me that gives me all the fun of getting to talk about things I like, plus I love knowing this blog is helpful in spreading good things! Genuinely, that’s awesome.

Also, just in general, I am the last person to whom anyone should apologize for writing something that's too long. Every once in a while I'll see a post on Tumblr that's tagged "long post" and is shorter than my average one, and I remember that I was not built for the Twitter generation. I actually work as an editor in real life, where I make sure all writing is tightened up and concise, and then I come on here and do not give one fuck about that. I love seeing others do the same.

- With Franke Boyle already cast, Adam Hills may have moved into the number one spot as my dream Taskmaster contestant. Not because he’s my very favourite comedian who’s never done Taskmaster (I mean he’s up there, just not quite number one), but because of all the comedians who’ve never done Taskmaster, I think he has the personality that would be most suited for the format. And by “personality suited to the format”, I mean obsessively competitive, with a penchant for showing off at every opportunity.

- It’s hard for me to justify how much I enjoyed their Boris Johnson interview, because I realize that’s an actual issue. “Comedy washing” politicians by putting them on entertainment shows that make them seem more fun and palpable, and to raise their public profile. Boris Johnson in particular did a bunch of that for he rose through political ranks, the big one being Have I Got News For You. My best justification for The Last Leg’s Boris Johnson interview is that they were only in their second season when they had him on, a weird late-night talk show that hadn’t gained traction yet, so they can’t have contributed much to his publicity. But still, it’s something they’re guilty of in general at times. With other members of Boris Johnson’s family, and Sayeeda Warsi, Alastair Campbell, a few others. Now that I think about it I guess the interview that Alex Brooker did with Nick Clegg in 2015 counts as that, even though I thought that entire interview was very well done and I enjoyed watching it.

Disclaimer aside, the Boris Johnson episode was really interesting, though. Really weird that they got him on when they were so new to it, new enough so he raised their profile more than they raised his, which is kind of a defense from comedy washing. I loved watching the three hosts find different ways of responding to him. Adam Hills getting excited about the opportunity to try to show off journalism skills, which he sort of did okay but then messed up a few times. Josh Widdicombe just awkwardly looking from one of them to the other, like he couldn’t believe it was happening. And Alex Brooker just entertained that the man with funny hair from TV was in the room with them.

The Nick Clegg one was done better. I enjoyed the tension between the politician trying to seem fun among comedians, and the comedians trying to be intellectual enough to justify having the Deputy Prime Minister on their show, and both sides clearly having no confidence in their ability to do that to the other side’s standards. But Adam pulled him into some good back-and-forth, successfully hit a couple of things that he’d swung at and missed in the Boris Johnson episodes (to use a sort of clumsy sports analogy). And when they sat down for the actual interview, I thought Alex did a genuinely good job of asking questions well and making him respond properly. It’s still probably not good that it happened. But it did, and it doesn’t add to any damage done if you or I watch those episodes now and enjoy them. I don’t think Nick Clegg is exactly poised to make a big comeback on the strength of how human and engaging he seemed on that one episode of The Last Leg in 2015, and any comebacks from Johnson will not be fueled by that.

- Okay, sorry about the above paragraphs, I did not mean to go negative in a post about a show that I, by and large, very very much like. Josh Widdicombe impressions! Josh Widdicombe impressions are funny and do not in any way contribute to the collapse of British civilization! Have you seen this compilation of Josh Widdicombe impressions, put together by someone on Reddit? It’s really entertaining. Adam’s entire repertoire of Josh impressions consists of putting a hand on his hip and saying “Pret a Manger”, it’s great.

- The number of weird little things about Josh Widdicombe is a bit amazing. The leg sitting thing combined with the hand gestures. The inability to sing or do accents, but sometimes he gives it a go. The fear of anything that makes a noise. The plaid shirts are lesbian appropriation that I do not mind one bit. By which I mean it turns out my sexual orientation is "mainly attracted to women, can make an exception for men who look enough like lesbians".

- All of Adam Hills’ accents end up a bit South African, no matter how they start. Including when he’s imitating Australian people, and does a weird thing where he sounds like an English person pretending to have an Australian accent, and it still ends up South African. Also great.

- The element of their show being live does add to it at times. Especially in early episodes, when none of them were quite used to it yet. I used to be unnerved by how often it would feel like Josh was making eye contact with me, until I realized there was a screen right above the camera that showed what it was filming, and he kept self-consciously using it as a mirror. Fucking adorable. I mean all of those early episodes were adorable. Just Adam Hills desperately trying to capitalize on this chance of finally getting his own show and wanting to make it run smoothly and well, and Baby Josh and Baby Alex pretty much spent the first eight-ish seasons just like:

Oh, and I love how much Alex Brooker's inability to stop laughing on cue it on display in the live format. Which is also on display in this compilation, by that same Reddit person, which I'm sure you'd like if you haven't seen it. Highlights how sometimes a joke will just completely take Alex apart, and he doesn't seem to have a lot of control over how fast he puts himself back together, which can be a problem when Adam's trying to read the next autocue bit so the show can stay on schedule.

I've looked around for the London 2012 episodes before, and they may be lost to history. I am glad the Rio 2016 episodes were out there, though. Those are some of my favourite episodes of the whole show, they were all on top form during the actual Paralympics. It's too bad they had to change things for Tokyo; I hope they get to go to Paris and do that again.

- I miss the awkward impractical sofa. I hoped they'd have it back by now, having switched to a much more reasonable seating arrangement during COVID. Go back to being weird and impractical, guys.

Again, I'm really glad you've enjoyed it! This show has its ups and downs, and legitimate criticisms of it (from the same criticisms that could be leveled at any light entertainment/talk show that can be formulaic at times, to some more serious stuff, I was really unhappy with their post-queen death episode), but my God, it is so much fun! I just really, really like all three of those people, and that can carry the show through just about anything. Positive aspects of the show can also range from the lighthearted (three comedians with very good chemistry having fun together) to something deeper (they make fun of people lauding Important Disability Representation, and rightly so because there's a lot of inspiration porn bullshit that needs undercutting, but also, it is genuinely important disability representation, drawing attention to para sport athletes who otherwise wouldn't have mainstream coverage, and once in a blue moon we get genuinely touching moments related to that). The Last Leg at its best is this genre of TV show at its best.

Again, thanks for that, I will always be happy for an opportunity to talk about this show. And it makes me very happy to know I got someone else into it, that's awesome!

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"TO YOU I'M ONLY LEOPOLD"

I'm currently writting the story of the arranged marriage set on the og timeline, but in the meantime I wrote this so, I hope you like it! @mywolvie

Leopold remembers with absolute clarity the first time he saw her. A young woman dressed in a voluminous and elegant yellow dress, holding a notebook in her hands while scribbling things with her pen. She looked up at the house in front of her before going back to writing.

The duke saw the exact moment when a carriage approached where she was. It seemed that the coachman had lost control of the horses.

He quickly ran to where she was and pulled her arm to move her out of the path of the carriage. He blinked a few times before fixing his gaze on her, who was watching him with the shock of what had happened reflected in her eyes.

"Excuse me, miss," he said quickly, putting his hands behind his back.

"You don't have to apologize," he replied, wiping the bottom of his dress with his hand. "You saved my life," he said. "May I know your name, brave knight?"

"Leopold," she said, holding his hand out to give him a soft kiss on the wrist, "to serve you."

"My God," she murmured, "you're not the third Duke of Albany, are you?"

He smiled, nodding slightly

-In the flesh - he confirmed, she lowered her head in respect-

-Your Highness, I… - he swallowed hard - I don't know if I should be talking to you

-Explain yourself - he asked delicately, observing her carefully - I don't think I understand what you mean

-Well, I'm not part of high society - he pointed at the dress she was wearing - regardless of how it may seem when wearing these extravagant clothes - she looked up at him again - it's my mother's fault - she confessed - she forces me to dress this way and put on makeup to look like a "presentable lady" in the hopes of finding a husband who is rich enough to support me until I join my ancestors

-Is that why you were here? - he asked - Did you expect to find a husband in the middle of the road?

-Not at all - she replied, opening her notebook again - I was just looking at the exquisite construction before us - she said, turning to look at the house - the way it is built, how the wood and stone come together to form something so solid fascinates me - she turned to him - Don't you think so, Your Highness?

-Please don't call me that - she said - to you I am only Leopold

-Okay, Leopold

They both looked at each other for a few moments with a smile on their faces, until he intervened.

-We both have one thing in common. We are both being forced to marry - she mused out loud - tell me, would your mother be satisfied if you married a duke?

-Your Highness… - she shook her head - Leopold - she corrected herself - forgive me for my answer, but we have just met. Besides, your father would never accept me

-At this point, my father would accept me marrying a trained donkey - he said, making her laugh - believe me when I say that it would be beneficial for both of us - he said - we have our whole lives to get to know each other, Miss…

-Adler - replied Chloe

-Miss Adler - he held out his hand again, she accepted it, intertwining it with his - if you would be so kind as to accompany me home, I have something to announce to my father

[zodiacrant]

💜Astro Notes💜

(All about Mutable signs)

(These may or may not apply to you, please keep an open mind and take it as entertainment rather than life changing facts. Please credit me if you’re going to use my work, or ask me beforehand.)

💜There’s no denying that this is the wack-a-doodle squad

💜Mutable Placements adjust and assimilate into other placements qualities and elements. This makes them hard to identify in a person, especially Rising.

💜Sagittarius Moons always have this underlying tone of sadness. My best friend in high school was a Sagittarius Moon and he would talk about anything and everything but real and serious things. His mother had cancer and passed away and he did not show emotion in his words or in his eyes. I don’t know why they feel like they always have to be happy and fun all the time.

💜Geminis are actually very stubborn but not with what they believe in but in what they do. Don’t tell them what to do or how to do it. And most definitely what they should and shouldn’t like.

💜Virgos and Pisces are opposites that clash by default. The ground level view of Virgo mixed with Pisces aerial view doesn’t go well. Not because of how they view things but because of their strict stance on how things are. One says 2+3=5, the other says no 1+4=5. The only time I saw those pairs get along is when they grew fond of their differences.

💜Sagittarius to me is the least Mutable Mutable sign. Even though they’re naturally curious and expansive, they have a habit of assuming and beating people to conclusions. This is why some people label them as know it all’s, cause while you’re talking they’re preparing an answer instead of listening to what you’re actually saying.

💜I believe I have said this in another post but I’ll say it again. Pisces placements are indicators of being either a genius or a complete bum.

💜Virgo Moons are high functioning emotional machines. No matter how much work they do or run around it, they’re very sensitive to every single thing.

💜Gemini is not as fun loving as people perceive them. Most that I have met were into taboo topics. As a Gemini Venus I would ask if you would like to be eaten by animals after death, with a smile 😊.

💜Virgo and Gemini represent the youthful and playful curiosity of Mutable signs. Both ruled by Mercury they represent childish and teen like thinking and view of the world. Wanting to try everything, do everything and everything having to be as perfect as they imagined. Jacks of all trades yet masters of none, they represent the novice and early stages of communication and learning.

💜Sagittarius and Pisces are the higher mind and what’s beyond the self. Ruled by Jupiter and Neptune, respectively, they represent religion, spirituality, the subconscious mind, and large scale worlds. They view the world as the teacher and/or the elder, passing down the knowledge they acquired along the way.

💜Mutable Mercuries can be very sneaky and manipulative.

💜Don’t underestimate Pisces. The preconceived notion that they’re some cute bubbly magical mermaid can be very far from the truth. People with Pisces placements, especially the Moon, are very interested in twisted and dark topics.

💜 Virgo/Pisces in North and South Node is the hardest life purpose to achieve. For Virgo N.Node your life purpose requires you to be level headed, swift, critical and do the right thing. With Pisces N.Node you have to elevate your mind, be insync with yourself, have an out of body view of the world, follow your instincts and do the good thing.

💜Most twins I know and are in my family are either Geminis or Virgos

💜Virgo Mars people blabber on when nervous. This apparently supposed to buy them some time to think but it just ends up making it worse.

💜I have noticed that Virgo and Sagittarius Suns and Moons get frequent migraines

💜Virgo in 8th is as kinky as Scorpio. Only they’re more of a bottom edging the top than the top edging the bottom

💜Mutable signs in their opposite’s planet creates constant confusion at best and delusion at worst. This can be seen alot with Sagittarius and Pisces Mercuries. No shade but y’all can really live in the world according to your mind, which can be far from reality. However, I did find many good actors with this placement which makes sense cause it’s conducive to the trade.

💜If you’ve known a Gemini long enough then you know not be surprised by their antics or what they’re going to say. I have found that they do and say things for reactions not because they’re seriously thinking of doing so.

💜Sagittarius on the other hand will do a dare just to prove they will do it.

💜Sagittarius in 4th house might run away from home

💜Pisces Venus is much more timid than you’d think. Virgo Venus, however, that is another level kind of “hoeing”

💜Mutable MC’s careers depend alot on who they know and always being on the go. They can’t be stagnant with their positions and require constant reinvention.

💜Pisces in 6th rarely get sick

💜Mutable Risings house patterns create, from what I read, a “cycle of completion”. They more than others have to focus on intrapersonal growth before going too far into their journey.

💜For a Mutable sign Virgo is not “mutable-like” but their quick adaptation and reactions to complex things is what makes them mutable.

💜Gemini Mars is the most energetic placement.

💜Sagittarius in 3rd and Gemini in 9th will have to unlearn almost everything they grew up learning. The opposite process from Gemini to Sagittarius where you keep on learning.

💜Mutable dominant people will forever have an existential crisis

💜Sagittarius Venus is the OG paradoxical queen

💜People with Sagittarius in 7th house, especially with Pluto residing there, will be hung up on “the one that got away”

[runephoenix6769]

Why Netflix aging up the Characters could spell disaster.

Ok, so I’ve tried to find confirmation that this is true and kinda found bubkiss so far.  But.... Zuko being aged up by two years does not bode well his motivation or Azula (or Sokka for that matter), narratively speaking and will massively change how their stories/character arcs hit.  It’s my belief that by aging up the characters they’ll kinda lose some of the soul of the show AND the poignancy of just how much pressure has been laid on the shoulders of Gaang and Azula's trio. The nuance of Children fixing a world broken by adults. (I shall preface by saying that anyone under 18 is a child and therefore even joining the military at 16 is still awful, but this post is being written within the context of the avatar universe, its societal norms and customs.)

Hear me out.  Within the show, all the main cast of children are supposed to be outliers and exceptionally skilled, even surpassing many of the adults in that world in terms of mastery of their elements and ability to execute strategy.   At 16/17 Rangi had her first commission after graduating from the Junior Corps in record time, to eventually become one of the youngest Lieutenants in Fire Nation Army service, during peace time.  400 years later we are in the midst of a global war, meaning the goal posts within the various societies would have shifted considerably. (Apart from the Earth Kingdom, they seriously need to get with the times.) Zuko is the heir to the throne of an imperial expansionist country, where military service is expected of many of the aristocracy. (If not every citizen doing something towards the war effort.) And has been since the reign of Sozin.  Being the heir, he would naturally be expected to take a military commission at 16/17, as precedent has been shown to us via Rangi. This would serve to foster loyalty from his soldiers, train him in ways of command to prepare him for taking over the Nation, etc etc.  Lets say that Netflix keep the rest of his story the same, so he is still ousted at 13 sent on a mission of folly as a cruel punishment. Well that just casts his 4 years at sea and his behaviour towards his men in an awful light. In four years he has not learned regard for the safety of his men? It makes the treatment of his men look callous instead of being a child who doesn't quite grasp how much his crew do for him, that they too have been ousted and separated from their loved ones! Four years of shite treatment would surely land a mutiny on his hands?  If anything, it serves to make him look whiny, and incompetently oblivious to the needs of others.  And what does it mean if they move the timeline of the Agni Kai up by two years, to 15?  It doesn't have quite the same impact. Remember what sits at the core of this show. It is ultimately about children trying the fix the world that the adults broke, violence, cruelty, child soldiers and the effects of war upon them, under intense pressure to succeed.  Zuko is supposed to be a child who hasn’t even begun to figure out what he wants.   His character arc in the show is supposed to be that journey!

Which brings me to Azula!  A child prodigy, who took down Ba Sing Se in a relatively bloodless coup at 14! Its meant to be an awe inspiring Herculean feat! A top notch military strategist, she is meant to be unmatched by any of her peers.  Her age in the OG show certainly explains her behavior, her not being developed enough in many ways. This contributes towards the deterioration of her mental health when she cannot reconcile the heavily cultivated sense of self with the reality culminating in the tragic and heart wrenching mental breakdown at 14! At 16/17, it makes it look like a huge ass hissy fit! OG Azula’s inflection moment begins in The Beach episode. She is begins to ask questions of herself in the form of small experiments. It takes the form of her hiding their identities on Ember Island.  It is as if she is trying to feel out if she is as witty and charming as she believes, but she comes to learn that she is woefully socially inept, people don’t like her for her, beginning the spiral of insecurity and self doubt. We are also told that Azula’s mother thought her a monster and she is massively hurt by that, though she plays it off as nothing.  This insecurity is blown wide open on the Boiling Rock cemented by Ty Lee’s betrayal and culminates in Azula, who is truly terrified that he might burn her in a way similar to Zuko, seeing her being sidelined by Ozai.  She takes as a form of punishment for her ‘failure’, a form of banishment, that she has been discarded like Zuko, when she had imagined being by her father’s side as they burned the world in celebration of their mutual victory rather than for what is truly is which is Ozai being a glory hog and reaping all the benefits from Azula’s hard work.  Which brings me to the suggestion by Azula to burn the world in the first place. A child suggesting that you ‘Burn the World’ smacks a whole lot differently when you think of it as a kid not quite grasping/understanding the ramifications of such a suggestion, but a 16 year old? Such a thing tips her from confused mentally unwell child with a crippling fear of failure raised without a lick of compassion to full blown villainy with nothing remotely sympathetic about her! The way the last Agni Kai is framed you are supposed to feel sympathetic towards her! Which makes me wonder if they are gonna paint Azula as unhinged straight from the get go? Her unravelling at the seams is supposed to be her journey!

Sokka.... at 17!  In the OG show, Hakoda does the right thing by telling Sokka to remain behind to look after the village because at 13 he is too young to go to war.  Why leave him behind at 15? Would that not serve to feed into feelings of inadequacy, that he was deemed too weak to leave and fight with the other men and boys of the tribe?  Now, I would argue that Sokka’s OG arc rivals Zuko’s redemption. He does feel inadequate and overcomes it. He also unlearns a shit load of misogyny! What 17 year old doesn’t take responsibility for his own clothes, in a tribe were adults are few and far between? What 17 year old expects his little sister to be his mother and bear the brunt of the domestic? How obtuse and unfeeling would that make Sokka? It would propel him to the side of boorish, lazy and entitled rather than the sweet teenage boy who grows to realise he has a lot to learn.  OG Sokka is humble as hell and not afraid admit when he is lacking! He will go and openly admit his flaws and learn from others who he had previously written off.  Suki gives him a glass of respect women juice and he keeps on chugging, only adding to the Sokka we know and love.  This is supposed to be his journey! 

OG Sokka is just as much of a genius as Azula!  They are both supposed to be exceptional. Having them sit at 16/17 figuring this all out within a war torn world were it would be totally normal for them to participate in the generational war machine kind of robs them of this. Their more child like behaviours, grappling with concepts and truly understanding their consequences is supposed to remind us that they are children, being asked to do something no child ever should! Aging them up casts these things in a whole other light, skewering the what makes this show so beloved!  If you change the core characters to the point their journey’s don’t make sense within the world they inhabit, or they become unrecognisable to the audience you’re trying to milk then really.....what’s the point?  

[ererokii]

— broken strings and beautiful melodies

diluc r. x f!reader

Word Count: 9.6k Warnings: major character death, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, gore, this does not follow the og plot and lore/ some spoilers for “We Will be Reunited” Archon Quest Note: this is for Attack On Academia’s Mythology Summer Collab! Please be sure to check out the masterlist for everyone else’s works. They all worked super hard and it turned out amazing! And big thanks to @reddriot and @axther for betaing <3

Synopsis: A simple love story between the Pyro Archon, and a mortal.

taglist || masterlist || server link || collab masterlist

Another four days pass and it’s finally Friday. Fridays at Angel’s Share were no different from the ones prior. Exhausted adventurers and townspeople venture inside the tavern to drink their woes away, to forget, or to have a great time. It was annoying, to say the least—hearing the laughter and cheers bouncing off the walls.

However, Diluc had to say nothing was worse than a certain pigtail braided bard strutting in with his lyre. The redhead had no choice but to serve the bard his choice of drinks after figuring out his true identity (although he still makes him pay the whole total—even if the singer can’t find a way to pay). 

Like before, the bartender lifts his head up, crimson eyes boring into the crowd gathering beside the bard at the nearby table. 

The bard’s soft voice matches with the melody of his lyre, fingers pulling and gracefully sliding past the strings. His eyes closed, telling a story to the nearby peers and the quiet man standing behind the counter. A tale Diluc heard once, yet it weighed on him all the same.

“The story of this archon is no better than the rest, yet, the most tragic comes from the debris of war. The god of War was like no other. Loads of strength, yet grief and sorrows weigh him down like an anchor in the vast ocean. Love is a mere factor, yet love is one of the many things the god brought ruin to.”

-

With heavy footsteps, a red-haired male walks along the dirt path in no shoes, wearing the silkiest of robes one could ever obtain. He hums to himself, brushing a loose strand of hair away from his face, letting out a huff of annoyance when it falls right back into the same position as before. 

He breathes in the crisp air of the summer night, relishing the winds that brush across his skin. Summers in Natlan were one of a kind. While it was scorching in the morning, when the night came around, all was calm. The harsh rays turned into blissful winds that cleansed the land of heat. 

During the other seasons, it was never too cold, nor was it ever too hot. The temperature was just right for all men, women and children. 

Located in the southwestern region of Teyvat, Natlan was home to the Pyro Archon, known as The God of War. The god, Murata, is unlike any other god. Ruthless and fierce, he does not handle any threat lightly. Anything thrown his way, he does not hesitate. With kindness and love, Murata will no doubt protect his nation.

His statues are scattered across the land. Standing with his formal rags and cloak that shields his face, Murata holds his claymore in his right hand, the tip pointing down to symbolize his foes beneath him as he celebrates in victory.

In the night sky, his statues act like lights to guide those on safe journeys home or to neighboring nations. Along with being guides, the structures are used for a place of reverence. Often many would journey far and wide to pay thanks for everything he has done. 

In the center lies the biggest of them all, flowers and candles are set up around it for ceremonial purposes. Every night new plants were replaced for the days to come. Like the other Archons, Murata was grateful for his people. When roaming the land, he spots commoners on their knees by the base of the statue during the late of night or the crack of dawn. Not wanting to disturb, the archon watches from afar. 

Today is different. Murata continues to walk along the path, listening to the noises coming from the forest animals and the creeks as the waters begin to rush at this hour of the night. He can’t help but let out the faintest of hums at the sounds of nature. 

He reaches for the side of his face, tucking a red strand behind his ear. Often the god will put his hair up into a low or high ponytail, but for outings in the cool atmosphere, he prefers to wear it down. His powers were compared to his hair many times. When describing his appearance, he listens to the children exaggerate saying his hair is literal flames that he can produce from the palm of his hands. Of course, this is nowhere near true, but a child’s imagination is quite amusing. 

In the distance, his crimson hues bore straight ahead at the small flickering light. 

“Someone must be up now,” he whispers to himself, debating on leaving them alone but instead, chooses to go up ahead and observe from a closer proximity. Muratans knew what their god looked like. He comes out during the day to pay visits but never for long periods of time. 

As quick as they see him, it's as quick as they’ll see him leave. No one can ever hold his attention for too long. 

The sound of strings being played can be heard from his spot-- and he halts. A lyre, one of his favorite pastimes and favorite instruments. 

Over the hill is a figure sitting beside the statue, back turned to him but he can see the movement of their arm. Curious, Murata continues to stalk forward quietly, not wanting to disturb the worshipper. 

The melody played is show-stopping in his eyes. He wonders if Celestia had sent down someone he was unaware of to play this just for him, and only him. If anything, he could settle on the grass and listen to them play for ages on end, wearying his immortal days out. Music was the only thing that could settle him, but not forever. 

Now, he's a mere few steps away from the cloaked figure. His face is lit up by the candles by his feet. His tongue peeks out of his lips as an unknown feeling bursts through his body. His palms felt sweaty and his heart rate increased. 

He winces when the wrong note is played, gritting his teeth together. The redhead doesn’t think much until a force pushes him backward.

“W-Why are you standing there watching me?! Don’t you know this place is meant for us to come together, not to be creepy like you just were right now?!”

“W-What?” he whispers in surprise, bringing a hand to cover his nose that suddenly feels wet. He pulls away, noticing the red drops on his skin. Blood.

“Don’t question me that way! You know exactly what you were doing…  A pig is what you are. Oh, just you wait until Murata finds out about this.”

“Murata huh?” he questions, wiping his hand on the grass, watching the blood dissolve into nothing-- the red trails of blood trickling down his nose come to an unsuspecting halt.

He clears his throat and comes to stand, staring down at the figure behind him. With the candlelight, a glimpse of crimson eyes and matching hair can be seen. In a matter of seconds, it's silent. Until there is a subtle gasp.

It amuses the Archon greatly to see a change in behavior and the fear present in the civilian's eyes. He wouldn’t dare try anything to her, but maybe it would lighten the mood if he did.

With desperate breaths of air, you reach forward and grab ahold of the man's hands, squeezing as hard as you could. “M-My Lord, I deeply apologize for my behavior! Please forgive me! I was foolish!”

“No need to be formal all of a sudden…mistakes are made and all can be forgiven. I must say, you are quite gifted with that instrument in your hand.”

Your face heats up, suddenly finding the ground much more interesting than him as you gaze down. Your god had just complimented you and yet here you are losing the composure you had seconds ago. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, hand clutching the lyre close to your chest. “It’s an honor to hear such wonderful words, especially coming from you.”

Murata stares down, an unexplainable look upon his face. Then, he smiles. 

“Your name?”

“Pardon?”

“What is your name? As someone as gifted as you, I think you deserve to have your name remembered.”

“My name is Y/N. For some reason, your kind words seem to boost my confidence. I normally don’t play in front of people, I’m too shy and afraid of their judgement. I only like to play in front of the statue… or in this case, you.”

“How about you play for me again?”

-

The angelic sounds of your lyre had been played more often since you’ve met the god. The night was when you shined, when no one was around to listen or stare at you. The dark sky made you feel alone, yet you were at peace. You found pleasure in playing for the Pyro Archon statue, yet having him sitting beside you and listening made your heart beat just a bit more than before.

During the day, you find yourself sitting under the big oak trees, the sunlight peeking through the leaves and shining upon you two. Murata lays close to you, eyes shut and lashes resting against his upper cheeks as the song lulls him to a quick nap or a state of serenity. 

He’ll comment on a subtle note, saying how he loves the pitch, or give recommendations. Many times Murata has taken your instrument and played a tune or two for you. He says every gentleman should at least know how to serenade a lady.

As a child, your family spoke highly of him. They even used him as a threat against you when you’ve done something wrong. Now that you look back, it was a mere hoax and it possibly scarred you just a bit. When you first told Murata this, he stared with his lower lip quivering before his shoulders started to shake and then, he let out a laugh. 

“Surely you didn’t believe that, right?”

“I did! I was a child, what else was I supposed to do?! I nearly wet my sheets when my mother told me that you would come and scare me!”

“Well come on now, are you still scared?”

He enjoys seeing you worked up—then again, he loves seeing you play the lyre. He stays quiet and watches your fingers move as if they had a mind of their own. You move with grace, without hesitation. There is no wrong note, no wrong string when you play. Sometimes being here with you in this moment made him feel like he was mortal. Like he was able to live freely.

Being bound to divinity in Celestia, Murata had wandered Teyvat for ages, alone. Each person he had gotten close to, he had to watch them disappear from this world in the shadows. At some point, he even had to pretend to be lost so others could forget about him. If they forgot about Murata, would the load be easier on the Pyro Archon’s shoulder?

But now, you’re aware of his status and who he truly is. If you were to stay by his side, would he be the last thing you see before you pass into the next life? He’s not sure, but he’s hoping that won’t be true. He couldn’t bear with the guilt that will get him worked once more at the thought of another mortal dying in front of his eyes. 

“Murata?” you ask one afternoon, sitting by the same statue you met him for the first time. “What’s it like?”

He steers his gaze away from the clouds and onto you, an eyebrow raised in question. “What is what like?”

“You know—” you start, messing with the material of your dress, head lowered. “Being a god?”

And then he freezes. Out of all the questions you could have possibly asked, this one had to be the most unexpected. 

“Why do you wish to know something like that?”

“I want to know what it’s like. Immortality and eternal beauty sound pretty amazing, doesn’t it?”

“No,” he immediately states, sitting upright. His body looks tense, posture perfect and hands in his lap. However, you notice the small twitch in his fingers, as if he’s thinking. You can hear the heaviness in his breathing—lips parted as the air slips in and out of his mouth.

How can living on this earth for years on end, watching people die in front of you like they are meaningless, be perfect? Is that what people thought about immortality? The faces of past friends from ages ago are nothing but a blob of color in his mind. He can’t remember their faces, nor their voices—only the memories they have shared, and even that is starting to fade away.

Murata cleared his throat, eyes fluttering shut. His chest heaved up slowly, before falling at the same rate. Soon, he opens his eyes and faces you. He reaches up and tightens his high ponytail, running his fingers through the red tresses. “The life of an immortal is not...ideal.”

“There comes a time where living forever is not as good as it seems. A human like yourself might think differently since there is an end to everyone’s journey. Death is inevitable for a human, and almost all are afraid of the end itself. Even… I am afraid there will be a time I will be cursed with that end. But for now, that’s something that rarely crosses my mind..”

And he continues. Murata proceeds to tell you about the drawbacks of being a God. When he speaks, you can see pain flash across his eyes as he recalls a memory of a loving friend who passed before him. He tells you there’s no avoiding this never ending nightmare. If there was a way he could overcome this spell of immortality, he would choose mortal life in an instant. 

He believes nothing good comes with this. In his eyes, everything gets destroyed by his hands. If he hadn’t created this nation, he wouldn’t be here with you, nor would he have people at his feet who love and worship him for everything—for giving them a home. He would be a traveler with no home, or loved ones.

The Archon doesn’t realize how much of his thoughts he spilled until he feels the warmth of another—your hand resting upon his cheek. This alerts him as he jolts, eyes wide as he stares at you. You wear a small smile, head cocked to the side. Your thumb moves on its own, wiping the tear away that dribbles down the swell of his face. 

His body relaxes, shoulders slouching as he relishes your touch, not having been caressed by another, let alone a human. If he’s being honest, it's been at least a century since he has gotten close to another mortal. It’s a foreign feeling, but he loves it nonetheless.

Your soft spoken words are enough for him to be at ease. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to continue through the suffering.”

In a vulnerable state, the tears continue to flow down his face, arms slithering around your body as he pulls you in close. At first the motion shocks you, but soon you return the action, hand resting on the small of his back and by his head, stroking the soft locks. You can hear the faint sobs that escape his lips and it’s strange. From stories, they state Murata was fierce, barely any emotion in him.

But he looks nothing more than a broken man in need of comfort. 

You press your lips against his head, humming softly to him. His arms tighten around you, a shaky breath slipping past. As much as Murata hates this feeling, but after being alone for as long as Teyvat had been founded, he thinks he deserves to be this close to someone again.

After moments of silence, the god is positioned beside you, hand resting on your thigh and head on your shoulder. His eyes feel heavy, the area feeling irritated and scratchy from his crying. As much as the thoughts still swirl in his head, they seem to be drowned out by the melody you play for him.

He lazily draws organic shapes with the pad of his finger on your skin, eyes beginning to close. 

Your lyre is one of the few beautiful things he has come across in his lifetime. You currently hold the number one spot for the most beauty he has seen but when you sit with your instrument, he swears he can see the wings of an angel behind you. 

He steers his gaze from the lyre to your face, eyes taking in the small details of your visage. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he notices the slip of your tongue peek from your lips, eyebrows creasing in concentration. Along with the melodies, he listens to your small hums as you play a song just for him-- one of worship and love.

His hand runs up your arm, halting your movements at once. Eyes opening, you stare forward for a second before looking down upon him. He recognises your confusion and lets out a laugh, hand trailing up before his thumb rests on your chin, making you keep your gaze on him.

Your face heats up at this interaction, mouth parted. Your breathing becomes uneven when you notice the close proximity. Your stomach flutters, the back of your throat suddenly going dry—no words able to slip through. His chest rises and falls just as quick as your own. 

His tongue peeks through, licking his lower lip. His crimson hues stare at your lips before averting his gaze to your eyes. As much as it’s tempting, now is not the right time.

“Beautiful,” he whispers quietly, for your ears only. “So beautiful… like an angel sent down from the divine...”

- The lyre, made of nature’s resources and carved into the most adoring shapes—the ends curving in different directions and a piece of excess wood piercing straight through the middle with a pointed tip and a rounded end. Made for the best, the lyre contains seven strings that seem to glow throughout the day and the night. 

In the middle, an emerald gem shines embedded on the wood, reflecting the rays of the sun, sparkling for all to see. Around lies the detail of the sun, the soft yellows encircling it. And just beneath that is gold details that resemble the wings of those who are free. Two flowers that are foreign to the land of Natlan are delicately engraved—their colors showing pure innocence.

The Cecilia flowers stay in bloom, never once dying out. Nor has any other grown in their place.

A perfect instrument, one of elegance and purity. Perfect for you. 

The origins of said lyre are unknown, yet when it was given to you as a young child, you didn’t dare question it. Instead, you took it with the biggest grin and thanked your father as many times as you could. You were intelligent and extremely talented. At first, your mother was skeptical of such an object being in the possession of an nine year old, but your father assured it was in safe hands. 

Since then, it’s been by your side to this day. It’s never been out of your grasp and you only let certain trusted people play it. For some reason, seeing others hold the instrument made you feel weird. 

Playing your gift made you feel like you were above the world, like you could ascend to Celestia and play for the gods. It felt as if some sort of divine power surged through your veins and riled you up. And now at the ripe age of 24, having the Pyro Archon by your side as you play for him daily, it feels as if your purpose of living has been complete. 

Seeing his soft smile and slight nods he gives when he's impressed (which is all the time) or when he places his hand on yours to play along with you. Having him close to you makes you feel warm, excited and giddy; almost like a young girl in love.

Which... You won’t lie to yourself about that. 

There have been times during the day where you catch yourself thinking about the red head. Thoughts of him swirl your head as you drift off to sleep and he’s the first thing you think about in the morning. Sometimes you notice that you make motions in the air, like you are stroking something, when in reality, you wish to have his head in your lap again as you play with the loose ends of red tresses.

The god was just so breathtaking. Staring into his eyes was mesmerizing. The color of flames held in his eyes drew you in so far, it felt as if you were walking through a pit of flames. Yet, these flames never extinguished or brought harm to you. 

“You’re lost in thought again,” Murata comments, poking your shoulder with his pointer finger. “You alright there? I don’t need you tripping over a rock or something.”

“Huh?” you ask, glancing over at him. “O-Oh it was nothing. I’m okay.” You offer a not so convincing smile, scratching the nape of your neck in embarrassment. Knowing you for a while, the god offers a nod and looks forward, his hands behind his back, steps in sync with yours.

You let your hand drop, clearing your throat as you hum, filling the silence with some noise. Your eyes wander around the area before gazing up at the tall man beside you. You take notice how the ends of his ponytail sway side to side with every step he takes.  

The apple of your cheeks heat up when you can see his back muscles flex as he straightens his posture. The shirt he wore let your imagination run wild; there was no doubt that Murta was built.

“It’s quite rude to stare,” Murata says out of nowhere, barely glancing over at you. “If you want, I can just stand in front of you so you can actually look at me face to face.”

“Oh be quiet,” you mutter, stepping forward and grabbing hold of his hand—his much larger, covering yours entirely. Upon contact, his fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing softly.

“You know I love messing with you,” he hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, which you respond back to him with a quiet “I know.”

The rest of the walk is filled with comfortable silence. It’s a bit chilly in the land of Natlan. One of the many summer days that turn out to be filled with crisp air and cloudy skies. Storytellers always said if it were cloudy during the season of summer, karma and misfortune was on the way—yet no one believed such lies like that. 

His hand is so warm, you think, glancing down at your conjoined hands. Ever since that day by the giant stone statue of the god where you almost kissed him, his behavior towards you changed drastically. He’s been a bit more touchy (not that it bothered you; in fact, you loved it), holding your hand and somewhat more affectionate. At the end of your day when you would say goodbye, he would pull you close and plant a gentle kiss to your cheek or sometimes even close to your lips.

Just thinking about those actions makes you flustered, looking away from him and out to the open. 

“What do you think it means to be in love?”

Hearing those words from the man beside you causes you to choke on your saliva, hitting your chest to calm your ongoing coughs. When you’re finally composed, you gasp for air and stare at him in shock. “W-What do I think about that?”

“Mhm.” He nods, inhaling deeply, his other hand reaching up into the air as if he was stretching before lowering it. “What do you think it means to be in love? I’m curious as to what you humans think it might be.”

“I-” You gulp, eyes semi wide as you try to wrack your brain for anything. That was not a question you were expecting, especially right now. “W-Why do you want to know? Isn’t love, love?”

“Well, aren't there different ones? Can’t people be in love with parts of someone? Lets say, only being in love with someone for their status in the nation. Or just their looks but not for them. 

“Well… I think being in love with someone means you don’t care about their status or who they look or who they are.”

“Even if they’re a god?”

“Even if they’re a god.” you say confidently, before realizing what he said. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Even if they’re a god,” he repeats, stopping in his tracks as he turns to face you. His cheeks are painted with soft pink, red eyes averting from you. 

Murata’s heart is racing, far faster than it ever has in his life. HIs lips are dry, his mouth is parched. His shoulders heave with every deep breath he takes. Does the sweat of his hands bother you? God, he feels like a young boy about to confess his love to a girl he’s been pining over—although he's not completely wrong.

“Murata, what’s wrong?” you ask quietly, tilting yourself a bit to look up into his eyes as his head is lowered. “Are you okay?”

“Why are you so intoxicating?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Y-You’re all I can think of,” he stutters, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t get you out of my mind, even though I shouldn’t get close to those I love and care for. In the end, I’ll be here and be forced to live with this overweighting guilt that rests upon my shoulders as time continues to flow knowing that you’ll be dead.”

A hiccup gets caught in the back of his throat, his thoughts becoming foggy all of a sudden. “I don’t like this feeling. I absolutely despise it.  Many times after we hung out, I thought about disappearing again like I have before I got too close to anyone again. But I can’t let you go, nor will these memories ever go away.”

“Don’t you understand?” he whispers, hand shaking as his grip becomes tighter. “I can’t lose you… you’re too special to me already. I know there will be a day where we part ways forever but I want to be a part of your journey until then.”

His confession throws you for a loop. His words continue playing over and over in your head like a song you learned the night prior. You have this unexplainable feeling in your chest, yet it warms up as the seconds pass. Your whole body feels tingly, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. 

Your quietness is too much for him to handle right now—a bit silly if you were to ask the Archon himself. “Say something,” he mutters, shaking your hand lightly. The redhead can already feel the rejection pooling in the depths of his stomach, eating away at him.

“You... Do you love me?” you whisper, looking up at him with doe like eyes. Murata can’t seem to answer for himself, one hand cupping your cheek. He moves closer, his breath fanning your face. The flames in his eyes gaze into yours, losing himself in the color before he averts down to your lips. A quiet way of asking for consent.

You lean forward, lips barely brushing against his. It’s shy between the two of you. After having such strong feelings for each other, neither of you know how to proceed. No one moves, it feels time has stopped.

You feel him pull away slightly before going back in, his lips fully pressed against yours. His other hand drops yours, instead wrapping his arm around your lower back. Your chest pressed up against his, your finger runs up his side, to the top of his shoulder and around, cradling the back of his neck.

His finger tightens around the material of your coat you wore for the day, using it as leverage to keep you standing. His kisses are soft yet fierce. The softness of his lips and his scent up close are enough to drive you insane, enough to make your knees buckle and make you want more. You want more of him, Murata.

A small grunts leaves his mouth when you tug on his hair. In return, he nibbles on your lower lip, chuckling at the small noise you produce from his motion. It’s becoming harder to breathe as you stay in this position with him. If air wasn’t a necessity, you wouldn’t go for it. 

You pull away from him, panting softly as you gaze up into his eyes. His eyes hold nothing but love and adoration as he peers down at you. The corners of his lips curve upward as he leans in, barely presses against yours again before pulling away. He sneaks in a few quick pecks, listening to your quiet laughter.

“Of course I love you.” He makes you look up at him, your face cradled in his hands as if he was holding something delicate, something that could be wrecked and destroyed any second. “That’s why I asked you what you thought about it.”

“And I love you too,” you reply softly. “I thought.. After everything you wouldn’t want to have feelings like this, let alone a human.”

“Sometimes boundaries are meant to be broken if it means true happiness.”

-

“Tensions have arisen in the land of Natlan. Nearby gods have caused quite the stir, causing Murata to put it to a halt at once. Upon ascending to his seat in Celestia, there have been prophecies saying a great misfortune is underway and can arrive in an instant. Since then, he’s been worked up. He cares much about his nation and will let no harm come its way.” 

The bard strums the string before growing silent, letting his head hang forward, his pigtails falling in his face. “It’s a true shame that such a horrid thing came to be… If only he was strong enough as he said he was.”

Murmurs arise from the drunken peers, hiccups joining the air as they beg him to continue the song. Even if some wouldn’t remember this night in the morning, this was still enough entertainment. 

“W-What happened next, bard?! Finish it!” an adventurer gasps, holding his cup of alcohol close to his chest, his cheeks heated and a light pink.

“You wish to know?” the bard asks, peeking through his lashes, his two toned eyes staring into the soul of the bartender. “Why of course!” he laughs cheerfully then clears his throat, batting his eyelashes as he brings his hand to his chest.

“Although, I’m quite parched and would love to have another cup of Dandelion Wine! What do you say, Master Diluc?”

“My answer is no. Do not ask me for something when you will not pay in the end.”

“Agh what a shame,” the bard sighs, letting his head hang back but never breaking eye contact with the redhead. “Don’t you wish to know about the ending?”

“I could care less.” Diluc speaks through gritted teeth, arms crossed over his chest, the infamous pose he does every hour of the day. “I just want you out of here.”

“I’ll pay for him!” one of the nearby men yell, fumbling with his wallet to grab the gold circles of currency to give to the bartender—and all the bard can do is smile cheekily, opening his hand. 

“Well, looks like the drink is paid for. Can I have it now, Master Diluc?”

The red head, already annoyed with the behavior of the young man in front of him, reluctantly takes the coins from the drunk. Without speaking, he serves the singer his desired drink, noticing the small smirk he wears. “Why are you smiling at me like that?” he asks, eyeing him up and down.

“Because I’m getting to my favorite part.” He takes a sip of his drink and places the cup back down. After a pleasant sigh is heard from him as he takes hold on his lyre, stroking the white petals of the Cecilia flowers. “And you’re gonna love it.”

- Melodies of the lyre were played even during the darkest of times. The soft notes were enough to make anyone who felt down happy again, or at least content, even yourself. The colors of the strings being played was enough to put you at ease. Sometimes when you’re out in the town, many children would ask you to play their favorite song or at least a simplified version if you weren’t familiar with it. 

But as of now, all of Teyvat was in ruin. Murata had told you the truth; he hated keeping you in the dark when you deserved to know. As much as he disliked saying this, your life indeed was on the line, more than his. In fact, the whole nation was at risk, along with the other six neighboring ones. 

From other Archons, Murata heard that a water monster, Osial, had arisen and was ready to ruin and kill innocents for the sake of a seat in Celestia. Morax, who was the overseer of Liyue at the time, was trying his best to seal the beast with his spears.

In this case, Murata hopes a threat like this doesn't happen to Natlan. Especially when he’s not there to protect his people, to protect you.

Murata hears a gush of wind from behind him and the earth beneath him starts shaking. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, small puffs of air slipping out of his mouth. He reaches above and tugs on the black hood of his cape. 

His archon outfit consists of silk white pants and black sleeveless shirt that resembled a vest with a slit down the middle of his torso. And to top it, a black cape flows behind, the hood covering his face from all to see. In his right hand, his fingers curl around the handle of his claymore.

A heavy burden rests upon his shoulders as he stares forward, seeing the world erupt into flames and utmost chaos. In the distance, he can hear the screams and cries of the families asking for mercy. He wonders what you would think about him if you were to see him right now. 

“Murata,” you whine, trailing the last syllable of his name as his lips peck against the bare skin of your shoulder. “Come on, you know that tickles.”

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll continue to do it,” he muses, nipping at your skin before blowing warm air onto your neck which causes you to squirm from him, pressing your hands against his chest. He listens to your soft laughs, loving the way your body moves under his touch. Your arms wrap around his neck, hugging him close as you hum, inhaling the scent you’ve grown to love. 

“Mmm… I love you.”

“And I love you too,” Murata whispers to no one, blinking rapidly when he realizes he was lost in thought and was not in fact with you, but only remembering a moment from a few days ago. In reality, here he stands in the middle of a deserted land that must be destroyed. Blood is on his hands, splattered on his face. 

“I didn’t even want to do this,” he mutters, grinding his teeth together as he proceeds to walk forward, watching red explosions burst from the ground, red blocks protruding from either ends of the nation. In the sky, the color purple takes over as lightning strikes down from the heavens and is brought forth onto the land. 

From his position, the ground had been cracked and was on the edge of being split apart if another Archon had used their powers against the nation. 

He lifts his claymore in the air, staring up at the red sky with anguish. His lips part as he whispers something to himself, reassuring that what he is about to do is alright and isn’t his fault. A sudden strike of his weapon pierces the land, flames bursting into the air and cracking the earth. 

Murata breathes heavily, leaning on the rounded edge of his weapon. Sweat trickles down his face, the hood falling off of his head. Two strands of hair fall forward, framing his face, the rest of it tied back into a low ponytail. 

The flames continue to run down the cracks which branch to smaller ones that cause the piece of rock beneath the surface to crumble and fall, leaving the terrain to become uneven. 

“Wow! Even from afar I can spot you,” a semi high pitched says from behind him. The Pyro Archon stiffens, internally groaning as he stares over his shoulder, meeting two green eyes. “Someone doesn’t look happy as he used to be.”

“Barbatos,” Murata grumbles, looking forward as he straightens his posture. With one hand, he picks his hood over his head once more and the other pulls his claymore from the ground, resting it on his shoulder. “What do you want from me now?”

“Just letting you know Morax has finished in the south region of Khaenri'ah,” Barabtos states, a frown growing on his lips as he looks away, the tips of his toes barely touching the ground as his wings keep him afloat. “You're not the only one who didn’t want this. We had no choice.”

“No choice huh…” He trails off, his claymore suddenly evaporating into thin air and gold dust left in its wake. “How are we loving, protecting gods if we just obliterated this nation with no god? What does that make us? We’re no better than those who do us wrong against our own homeland. We’re just like Decarabian. Nothing but tyrants.”

“Don’t bring up that name again.”

“Why? Because deep down you know it's true.”

“Because that was his own choice to keep us entrapped. We had no choice but to bring ruin. They felt-” Barbatos hesitates, licking his lower lip before continuing, “-they felt threatened. A nation with no god is a false one to Celestia. Everything must be in order. Khaenri’ah was not the case. We had to, or we’re next. The divine is not ready for a land with no god.”

“I shouldn’t have come.”

“Murata. If you hadn’t, who knows what would have happened to Natlan.” A deeper voice from behind him is heard, the sound of footsteps becoming louder before they stop beside him. “You and your people would have been in grave danger.”

“Unlike you, I don’t need to keep making contracts.”

Morax chuckles lightly, shaking his head, his ponytail swaying with the movement. “And how does that look on you, God of War?”

Murata shakes his head, refusing to look at the Anemo Archon and the Geo Archon. “War or not, this is not just. The victors burn bright and the losers turn to ash. This-” he motions to the now deserted land of dust and blood. The sky is a deep red, the sun or moon nowhere to be seen. The earth is uneven, mountains caving into the ground as streaks of dark colors emit from the ground. 

The spot the three archons stand upon is nothing but cracked ground, an empty space separating them and the rest of the debris. 

“This is not war.”

Even when he’s not in his right mind, the only thing that can put him to ease comes up, suddenly soothing his woes away. He closes his eyes, envisioning he’s somewhere else

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper in the god’s ear, twirling a strand of hair around your finger with a smile. “No wonder you’re a god. How could they not take you?”

“Please. You flatter me too much.” He grabs hold of your wrist, bringing it to his face, planting a kiss to it. “On the contrary, it should be you in my position. No, an angel is what you are.”

“An angel? Please, enlighten me.”

Murata shifts on his side to stare down at you, brushing the baby hairs from your face. A blanket covers your bodies from your previous intimate sessions, yet he remembers every curve, every flaw that’s perfection to his mind. “I mean, look at you. You’re too beautiful for this world.”

“Am I now?”

He nods, dipping his head slightly. The tip of his nose brushing against yours. “You are. You’re amazing. You’re everything in this world. You’re desirable but most importantly... you’re divine.”

“Wow, now I’m flattered.”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes creasing as he presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss. It lasts for a few seconds but it feels as if it goes on for years. When he pulls away, you cup his cheek. “And you are ethereal.”

The god shakes his head lightly with a sigh, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. You’re all he can think about. Even when he is busy taking away innocent lives and watching them get turned into monsters, the sweet image of your face continues to pop into his mind. You’re the light in the dark. 

He hates the feeling of being away from you, especially when he’s on close watch from Celestia. There’s something unsettling in the pit of his stomach that he can't quite put his finger on it. Murata watches Morax and Barbatos exchange a few words before he gasps, lifting his head up fast. “Natlan. It’s in danger.”

- The nation of Natlan, located in the southwestern region of Teyvat and home to the Pyro Archon, was under attack. There was no point in trying to save them, they were already too far gone. No god in sight yet the trails of monsters were left behind. Did the Archon truly love them like they said he did? Or was it all a lie to get people’s love?

The once beautiful land is ruined—looking like the one he destroyed not long ago. His statues that aided his people on their journeys far and wide were now broken and cracked. Chunks of stone litter the ground and crush nearby civilians. Whoever was standing beside those statues had been brought down along with them, no way to return. 

The god feels weak in the knees as he staggers over the dirt path that has noticeable traces of dried blood. No doubt from his people. Where are the bodies? He has no clue.

Houses have been torn apart, the roofs blown off and thrown into the field of flowers on the other side. He feels torn at heart. He wants to give up walking, already knowing the outcome but refuses to stop. He hopes that a few people, even just twenty people, can still be alive and he can move them somewhere else.

The night is cold and fresh as it was years ago. Only this time, the sounds of the animals in the creek aren’t heard and the wildlife is quiet. He looks towards the forest, hoping a deer or a boar will rush through the trees. But his hopes die when he notices that's not happening, and the habitat is burnt to ashes. 

“Somebody,” he croaks out, averting his eyes upward and freezes. Up ahead, in the center lies the biggest statue of them all, where flowers and candles are set up around it for ceremonial purposes. Every night new plants were replaced for the days to come. 

The most beautiful statue in all of Natlan has been crushed. The head of the statue is gone from the area (he can only assume it had been tossed across the nation or into the river). The candles are no longer intact,  the pieces scattered and buried into the burnt grass.

“No,” he whispers lowly before crying out, running towards it. His heart races as he steps closer and closer. All his worries and fears; he doesn’t want them to be real. He doesn’t want any of this to be real. He wants to be at home.

You.

You. 

Where are you?

He gasps for air and drops to his knees. Red eyes frantically search along the stone pieces. He plants his hands on the ground and hisses upon contact, retracting back. A rock share pierced his skin. Murata bites his lower lip as he shakes his hand, watching the piece fly off before he can continue looking.

Are you safe at home? You were, right? Surely you wouldn't come out when everything is being attacked, right? Yeah, that’s it. You’re safe at home waiting for him to return. Waiting for him to be in your arms so you can cry about your fears of losing your life and him.

And by the end he’ll calm you down, say soothing words into your ear as he holds you close, saying he’ll never leave like that again and stay with you forever. God or not, immortal or not, he plans to stay by your side. 

And then your lyre will be played for you and only you. He knows your favorite melodies. Oh so beautiful, he loves hearing you play them but this time, he’ll play for you until the end of time. 

Your lyre-

He freezes.

His hand hits something underneath the stone. Something smooth like wood and the prick of an object with a pointed tip—an all too familiar feeling.

With a grunt, he grabs ahold and heaves back, pulling it out from under the rubble. A surge of fear flows through his veins when he falls back, holding an object in his hands. 

It’s a cracked lyre, with pieces broken off where an emerald stone originally would have laid. The gold trinkets are ripped right off, the empty space now feeling dull. He notices the seven strings have now turned to three and aren’t holding their original color that glows. 

The only thing that’s untouched, however, are the Cecilia flowers. Not a hint of blood stains the white petals. 

His eyes grow wide when he gazes somewhere else, spotting a hand peeking out from the same spot he pulled the lyre from. A choked cry gets stuck in the back of his throat when it all clicks together.

You weren’t home like he thought you would have been. You weren’t waiting for him to return from his wages of war, to be in his arms. Instead, you did what you always did.

Worshipped Murata, under the ceremonial statue.

The one that caused your death. 

Tears well up in his eyes as he hugs the lyre close to his chest, mouth parting as a sob slips out. He rocks himself back and forth, shaking his head at this false reality but he knows this is all real. 

Murata babbles to himself, muttering things underneath his breath as he hyperventilates. He can’t catch his breath. His throat is closing in on him, the air too thick to even breathe right now. 

The tears blur his vision. He can’t see nor think straight anymore. The god of War was unable to save his people from the hardships of an incoming war. What kind of god was he? Was he even one? Or was he now a false one?

What seems to be years later, though it only is an hour or so, Murata finds himself standing on the edge of a cliff, dried up tears evident on his face. The whites of his eyes are red, the tip of his nose matching the same color. 

He sniffles, nose stuffed from the moments earlier. His breathing hasn’t changed a bit. His shoulders still shake with every inhale. The atmosphere around him is tense, maybe even too quiet for his liking. 

Behind him, he refuses to look back on the destruction he let happen. Even from a far enough distance, he can still clearly hear the crackling of fire and the sounds of a nation dying. 

He lowers his hand from his chest, spreading his fingers open. In a matter of seconds, the handle of his weapon appears slowly, the rest of the claymore following suit in gold dust. 

He peers down slightly, watching the red and black glow before dimming out. The slant from the edge of the weapon, one he has used to kill off his enemies without a thought. In the current state, he can see the traces of blood left behind. 

In his other hand is the damaged lyre. His fingers keep it close to his chest, his heart. One of the last things he had of you. The tip of his pointer fingers strums a string and he winces from the uneasy sound it produces. This instrument no longer plays the melodies he adored, and worse yet, the person he adores can no longer hear it. 

Murata was the Pyro Archon. Amongst the other gods, he was ruthless yet kind and merciful. When a threat was sent his way, he did not hesitate to take care of it. He took care of Natlan. 

Or, that’s what should have happened. 

He closes his eyes, goosebumps forming on his arms from the gust of wind that breezes by him, knocking his hood off. His hair that was let down swayed in the breeze, the loose ends flowing behind him. His bangs move slightly and then stop, falling in their original place. 

The rest of his cape follows in the wind, the ends flowing behind him like the draft was made just for him right now. 

“I let you down,” he says, clearing his throat. He stares at the colors of oranges, pinks and blues, meshed together to create the sunrise that he grew to love but now, he suddenly resents it. 

A single tear cascades down his face and lands on his bare chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. A rare whimper slips past his lips. With a shake of his head, Murata brings the lyre to his face, pressing his lips against the cracked wood. 

A goodbye kiss should always be special, shouldn’t it?

He pulls away, stroking the place where the gem would have been at. “I’m so sorry my love.” He averts his gaze and lowers himself, dropping the lyre on the ground underneath his feet. 

“Even I could not save you from the end of your journey. And as your god, I failed to protect you.”

When he stands up straight, his fingers tighten around his claymore. He stares down at the instrument, longing for time to change and to go back. To go back to how things were before. 

He can still hear the sound of your life and your smile popping into his mind. At the thought, his lips curl upward faintly in a small smile. 

Oh how he misses you already. He still remembers when he first saw you on that day under the statue as you played for him. You were aggressive, that was for sure. No doubt about it when you swung at him with your lyre and accused him of being a disgusting pig.

He can only blame himself. Deep down, he knew a day like this would come, but he didn’t think it would happen so soon. 

But maybe now, as he called you his angel or an angel of Celestia, you can now ascend to where you truly belong. 

This isn’t goodbye, but a farewell, he thinks, clearing his throat as he gets closer to the edge. He peers downward at the ground miles beneath him.

As he failed here, he still has a job to do, no matter what. 

So then he jumps. He brings his claymore around and over his shoulder and swings it down. Flames engulf him in whole on his way down until he hits the ground with a thud, his weapon taking up all the impact. 

-

“And thus, the Pyro Archon aided in other nations against the treacherous demons that corrupted their land. After such heroic deeds, he was never to be seen. Many questioned: where did the god of War go? Who will remain victorious?”

“Many say he disappeared to join his love in the next life. Others say he stepped down as god to live amongst the mortals as he always wanted.” The bard hums and lays his lyre across his lap. 

“It’s a shame really, how beauty can go to waste.” His fingers run over an emerald gem that lies in the middle of the wood. His lyre was beautiful. 

The edges curved in different directions with a piece of wood piercing the top with a rounded end and pointed tip. Seven strings glowed recently as he placed the object to rest. 

“But it’s not as if it was her fault.” His slender fingers run over the white petals with a faux sigh of despair. “She would have been popular amongst the folks here, if she was immortal, of course. If only he kept his word to her saying he would protect her no matter what.”

The bartender drowns out the rest of Venti’s words, his eyes trained on the wood beneath his feet. 

Diluc Ragnvindr, owner of the Dawn Winery and Angel’s Share. Information is at his fingertips wherever he goes. In Mondstadt, he is a nobleman of high status. Everyone knows about him. 

His crimson eyes hold tears as he lets out a shaky breath, bringing a gloved hand to wipe away at the water that threatens to spill. 

He tries to keep his mind off of it but he can’t suppress it.

In front of him was Lord Barbatos himself—one he knew too well from millennia ago. Having fought with him in the Archon War, and the Destruction of Khaenri’ah, Diluc knew there was no way to get rid of him. 

It shocked him the most that the bard even remembers the story from back then. Even if other storytellers told this tale, Venti was the one that pierced his heart the most. 

“Master Diluc!” At the sound of his name, the red head hesitantly lifts up his head. Venti’s annoying smile greets him, pressing his finger against his cheek in a thinking motion. 

“Did you like it? I hope you did! I try to incorporate any stories of the divine. It seems that today was a hit. Don’t you think so?”

“Why are you bringing it up?” he whispers, not caring that tears trail down his face. “Why do you need to remind me of my failure?”

The other peers don’t seem to notice the usual calm and collective man in tears. They’re all too far gone in the hole of alcohol. 

Venti’s eyebrows crease, cocking his head to the side. “Failures? What do you mean? I’m just doing my job and singing like I always do. You’re doing great things in the Wine Industry. What failure could you possibly mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean!” Diluc snaps, slamming his hands on the counter in front of him, causing the bard to jump in his seat. “You know exactly what you’re doing!”

“Oh dear oh dear,” Venti sighs, shaking his head. He picks up his lyre, placing his lips against the wood. 

“So pretty huh?” he asks once he pulls away, a small smirk on his lips as he shows Diluc. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if you got to play this?”

The strings continue to shine, dimming and going bright again. An instrument perfect for anyone and in this case, for Barbatos. 

It pains Diluc to see him with your lyre. As much as you told him you despised other people holding it, he feels much more stronger about it. He wants nothing more than to snatch it from Venti’s hands and tell him to get out. 

“Others say that he wanders in the world right about now. No one knows what he looks like though. It’s a shame if anyone were to find him and blame him.” 

Venti’s fingers run over the strings. A melody is heard in the air, louder than any of the drunk men in the room. 

Diluc feels a sob beginning to form in the back of his throat. He wants nothing of this. He wants to truly go back home to Natlan with you. He could have made you a god and you could have been here with him today. 

As much as Diluc wants to look away, he’s mesmerized by the way the singer’s fingers move gracefully against the strings. For a split second, he could have swore he saw you sitting in his place, singing softly for his ears only. 

Like the angel you were. 

“But it seems that the god is afraid of confrontation. And yet, he seems to be mourning over his lover even after her death. If anyone were to be at fault, it would be his—” 

Venti stops, peering up at Diluc through his lashes. A sinister look was evident in his eyes. He paused for dramatic effect, a smirk growing on his lips. He hums and strums the last note.

“Isn’t that right, Murata?” Venti muses, asking a question in the form of a song. But in reality, he aimed it towards the redhead god standing in front of him. 

Diluc stares dumbfounded, mouth parted and eyes red from his silent crying. His hands are balled beside him. The peers cheer for the bard and offer drinks to compensate for his amazing singing—to which he laughs it off but takes the offers regardless. 

And all Murata can do is live with his own guilt, for the rest of his immortal life. Forever.

taglist: @reddriot @thicmitten @katsuhera @novvabeam @patt-writes-stuff @axther @tspice283  @bonitoge @mysticalchocolate @yanfeisrose @mowestruc @tokyosrevenge @jaegerverse @hu-tao-main @midnightangelfox​ (add yourself to the taglist up above!)

[prose-for-hire]

UC Sunnyhell: Part three

There’ll be Hell to pay

Previous Part // Next Part

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: Spike and you haven’t been getting along and it all reaches a boiling point. Harsh words are exchanged but something happens to make you both question your thoughts about the other. Will this be enough to change your perceptions though? College AU

Og request by: @sunflower-stan​

Requested tags: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @harpersmariano​

Warning: Sex reference, swearing.

He appeared to have no redeeming qualities. His personality was flat, two-dimensional. Like some bully in a kids cartoon. Not that you had particularly looked very hard since your first meeting.

He had upset you. And this ‘revenge’ was all you were thinking about. Your friends had planned it all out with you that night. They were all going to arrive soon and you were pacing with nerves. This could go badly.

You had convinced them to choose the least likely action to get you all into a physical fight. Something that appeared innocent that would annoy him greatly. If he got really mad there would be hell to pay. 

They all came over, spreading their stuff around the living room. Taking up as much space as possible because of the way he had all but made you live out of your room rather than face him. They made as much noise as possible and basically tried to antagonise him as much as possible. The way he had with you.

When someone mentioned Angel might show, Spike snapped and stormed out of his room ready for a fight. No bloody way was he coming into his home.

As he opened his mouth, about to speak, he saw something in Xander’s hand. He noticed that you had all been passing around a liquor bottle. He snatched it from Xander.

“That’s mine” He accused.

“Oh no, actually spike, that one over there was yours. My friend Faith supplied this one” Buffy explained, giving him an overly sweet smile as Xander took it back. He scowled between her and his now empty liquor bottle.

“Get out” He snarled.

“You’re not the only one that lives here-” Cordy started in your defense, but she was quickly cut off.

“Fine. We’ll make it a real party. I’ll invite my mates won’t I?”

“You don’t even like them that much” You replied getting to your feet, you had overheard him mutter it to himself when one of them annoyed him again.

“Well, I’ll like them a lot more when they round up your little gang of-” He smirked at their reactions, “Or, everyone could just bugger off I suppose. Wouldn’t need to invite ‘em then”

Everyone shared concerned looks. They had heard about the types of people he had around him. They looked at you as you broke the stare-down you and Spike were sharing. You just nodded and they scrambled to leave. Making sure that you knew you could call them at any time.

Once they left he smirked and began to turn to leave back to his bedroom. But you wouldn’t let him go. Not this time.

“Will you just grow up!?” You screamed as he turned around and closed the space between you. If there was hell to pay after these words you would happily go skint. He should hear them. After everything.

“Yeah, ‘cause you and your little bloody clique are right grown ups, yeah? So grown-up you whisper about people behind their backs!”

“What?”

“I’m disgusting to you, yeah? You’re such a bloody ponce – like them, not even got the stones to say it-” He said and you realised he had heard what you said about him to Willow and Buffy. You didn’t think about it, you just shouted back.

“You want me to say it to your face?!”

“Yeah, might be a change from you being such a back-stabbing bitch”

“Fine! You’re horrible, nasty and so fucking inconsiderate! You think the whole world’s against you but we don’t care! We just don’t care!”

“Yeah, well-”

“I’m not done – you’re so arrogant! You think the whole world revolves around you. Well, I live here too! I pay rent I deserve some space in my own home! I tried so hard to be nice to you and all you’ve ever done is throw it back in my face!”

“Oh yeah, everybody kick Spike when he’s down” he muttered despite him asking you to say what you thought. You didn’t realise but one of the people he frequently had sex with had finished it with him for the final time earlier that day, “You don’t bloody know me!”

“I don’t want to!” You shouted, this time when you turned you really did just walk away. He watched you go, eyes lingering on you as you walked away.

He snapped himself out of it, jaw tensing and you both slammed your doors on each other. He infuriated you. Completely annoyed you. Just like you angered him. Infuriated him. He couldn’t believe that he would have to live the rest of the year with you.

You had both started this because you didn’t know each other. You had assumed. Not wanted to even try to know each other. First impressions are hard to get over. You had appeared to him as some do-gooder that wanted to “fix” his immoral ways. You hung out with those clean-cut-9-to-5-losers that never gave him the time of day.

You had wrongly assumed all he cared for was sex and causing trouble. Hurting people just for the fun of it. You never tried to delve deeper. Think about why he acted this way. Like you said, you didn’t care.

Weirdly, since that night, he kind of respected you a little more after your outburst. You showed that you did in fact have a backbone when he had assumed you had yours removed like most of the people on campus at birth.

But you stood firm, you were just usually nice to people because it just felt obvious to you to treat people with kindness until they gave you a reason not to. And, boy, had he given you reason not to.

As you were thinking this. He was thinking about you. He had always been that way, the line between hatred and... no. He didn’t care. He was indifferent about you. Or, that’s what he kept telling himself. Wouldn’t even entertain a thought to the contrary.

After this argument, he just kept out of your way. You barely said two words to each other, you just lived your separate lives.

You had realised how the other saw them. How there appeared to be faults there that couldn’t be bridged. You had gotten bored of fighting. It was starting to cut closer to each other’s bones. You were exhausted from it. So you kept away from each other.

You had barely spoken for almost an entire month. If it wasn’t for the occasional musical soundtrack or the smell of smoke neither of you would know the other was in.

That was, until something happened. Something neither of you would have ever thought possible. It all began one Saturday evening, at an open mic night.

You arrived at the dimly lit bar and walked in a little tentatively. Your heart was already beginning to race and you still had a while until it was your turn. You were finally going to do it. You were going to perform something you had written.

You smiled at someone that you recognised, he came over to you greeting you excitedly. The guy was friendly enough but you just weren’t able to form that connection you longed for with him. He was very loud and dramatic – a one-man show, if you will. You struggled to keep up with him in conversation.

“Great turn out tonight!” He gushed as you looked around at the two other people that had turned up. You nodded distractedly as you saw a figure at the bar. You recognised the figure but just couldn’t place it.

That was, until he turned around and caught the light. The bleach blonde hair. That leather duster that appeared to be surgically attached to him.

You caught each other’s eye. Scowling at the other. Why would he possibly be here? Was he going to heckle everyone? Start a bar fight?

The truth was, Spike would come every month or so. To read his writings, his poems. He did this because nobody rarely turned up and the tender took a shine to him and offered half priced beer.

He took his beer and sat in his usual corner. Hiding until it was time for him to get up and speak. He watched you, burning holes in you as you walked up to the bar yourself, asking the guy what he recommended. He stared at you. It was a student bar, there wasn’t an exclusive wine list.

You rolled your eyes and just asked for some shots. Three, to be exact. You threw them back one after the other. Spike raised his eyebrows and then smirked when your entire body appeared to shiver in reaction. You went and sat near the front, facing away from him for a while.

Both of you began to feel more and more nervous about speaking. Especially with the other there. Suddenly you got to your feet, full of nerves you needed to have a breath of fresh air.

He saw you leave and this relieved him. You must have become too nervous. He could go up to speak now that you were gone.

And just in time, his name was announced and he got up swigging from his beer as he walked. Glaring at the enthusiastic guy that had been talking to you who had put both of his thumbs up at Spike as he got up to where the mic was set up.

You returned just as he started to speak. But you sat down without him seeing it at first. You heard those words. The breath was knocked out of your body. The words spoke to your soul. The feeling behind them, it was all you had longed to find. Someone with a mind that expressed things the way you did… but the words were his.

He spoke with such passion, such feeling. The words were incredible and you couldn’t believe they were coming from his mouth. You had goosebumps and you just stared, suddenly finding yourself really looking at him. At the way he spoke. The way he looked.

You held your card containing your own words to your chest, there was no way you would be able to go up after that.

You had listened to his words, all but swooning. Hanging on to every last syllable less it dissolve into the air and you would forget it forever.

How could someone with that much of a nasty attitude have so much heart hidden away? You were in awe. His words, the feelings behind them. It was like the musicals you loved so much. Exploring love and loss and heart.

He caught your eye as he walked from the stage. He hesitated, realising what you had seen but just walked past you to the bar. He ordered his body weight in liquor and just sat there.

Then they announced your name. You jolted with shock, still reeling from Spike’s eloquent words. You cleared your throat, nodded at yourself and stepped up to the microphone. He rolled his eyes at you turning away.

Then he heard what you had to say. Such meaningful prose shared with the world. Baring yourself so raw. The words you spoke had real heart. Real meaning, more so than he thought you had been capable of.

His eyes were on you now. Only you. He didn’t even pick up his beer as he listened.

The spotlight was blinding though so you never saw him look at you in the way he did. That flash of understanding, the way that he could empathise with the way you spoke. How you wrote.

You both returned home separately. Neither of you could stop thinking about the other. Those words. Those feelings. The way he looked up there. The way you did. Almost ethereal to the other. It was confusing. Wrong.

You definitely didn’t speak to each other at all after this. You didn’t know what to say. You were so torn. Between what you knew about him and what you had just heard Had you been wrong about him?

His words had stopped time. His thoughts, feelings. They meant something. They had settled somewhere inside you and you weren’t sure if they would ever leave.

You were daydreaming about his words again, looking out of the window as you waited for your water to boil. You hadn’t realised the man himself had walked into the room behind you. You had spun around and overbalanced.

You tripped and he put a hand out to steady you, before snatching his hand away immediately in horror. You just stared, frowning.

“Watch it” he said, but he turned frowning at himself. He stared at you for a second as if he wanted to apologise but then he turned on his heel and left. Your words, the one that you had spoken had made him rethink. You weren’t just some plastic copy of Buffy and her sorority sisters. You weren’t shallow to him like Angel and Xander or just ‘one of the boys’.

You had heart. You had thoughts and feelings that transcended this mundane part of the world. You had such a beautiful mind that spoke to his own. He was just fighting against it as much as he could.

Since a few more occurrences like this, lingering glances. Weird silences where things felt unsaid, your courage began to grow.

You had to say something. You would only regret it if you didn’t. You feel like you had misjudged him. That he was hard to live with but that there was a promise there. You knocked on his door and began to open it.

“Bugger off!”

“Uh, sorry, I… I know we haven’t been getting on but-”

“Understatement of the century that” He grumbled, looking up from where he was lying on his side in his bed. He was flipping through a magazine.

“I just… your words. The other night. I couldn’t not say something. They were beautiful”

“You’re bloody hilarious” He said harshly, jaw tensing. He felt that you were teasing him. Making fun of him for his poetry. He was used to it.

You didn’t realise but his past was the reason he was so defensive. Had to harden himself. Because they all used to tease him for his poetry. For his soft side. Until he hid it completely. Didn’t allow anyone to see him that vulnerable (apart from the two patrons of the pub the open-mic night was held in – he had to express it someway).

“No. I mean it, I’m not- I wouldn’t make fun of you. I’m really not like that, I loved your poems I was wondering if you were going again in two weeks-”

“What so we can skip there together through the merry fields of glee?”

“I’m s-sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered” You shook your head, he saw that you were genuinely embarrassed and upset. You should have known, just because he could write and his heart wasn’t as completely hardened as you thought didn’t mean that he suddenly wanted to be your friend. Just because you suddenly had one common interest.

“Y/n” he said and you turned back, your hope lifting slightly, “close the door on your way out”

Your face crumbled slightly and you turned and slammed it shut. You had wanted so desperately to have a connection with someone, on that level. That you would even chase after it at even the slightest glimpse of feeling from someone you didn’t like.

You couldn’t see him, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you. About that offer. He was so lonely, no matter what he filled his time with he wanted to be able to trust someone. Desperately. But they always disappointed him eventually. He didn’t want to give you or anyone the power to do something like that.

There was a hint of understanding that began between you though since you went to tell him your thoughts. You spoke to him as if he was an equal, for the first time in a long time that someone had. And he let you. You looked at him, past the front he put on. It was only a glimpse but you felt the anger melt away. It had been exhausting living that way.

He wouldn’t dare verbalise his understanding. He did make some subtle changes though. He didn’t blast his music full volume as much. Spent more nights out, rather than bringing as many people home. He was still messy but he left a space for you to live your own life too. Which was really all you could ask for.

You had both humanised yourselves to the other. Let the other into your mind. Your perspectives. He didn’t mention what he had started to do and you wouldn’t dare, but you had definitely noticed. You had formed a kind of truce. And understanding of sorts.

The whisper of a possibility of friendship kind of hung in the air between you. It was there, you could both feel it but it wasn’t solid. You couldn’t grab onto it. It was transient, floating all around. An abstract concept.

For one of you to make the first move, to try and make some kind of amends. It would mean something too great. You wouldn’t push it, you were still unsure.

You were sat in your elective class. You hadn’t really been sure what to take so you ended up in this one. The dreaded paired presentation were looming.

Nobody usually sat next to you, none of your friends took the class so you were facing the embarrassing walk to the front to ask the professor if there was any one else that needed a partner.

That was, until a guy walked in. He was tall and he appeared to take a lot of care on styling his hair. You weren’t sure you had ever seen him in the class before and this was confirmed to you when he stood at the front scanning the rows for a spare seat before narrowing on the seat beside you.

He walked near you and awkwardly asked if the seat was free before he sat beside you. Just as the professor announced that the person sat beside you would be your presentation partner. He turned to you and nodded in acknowledgement that you were paired.

“Angel” He offered his name and it clicked. You had met him before, you think. At a frat party you went to with Buffy so she could try and find him. Either way you had heard so much about him you felt as if you already knew him.

“Y/n” You replied and he nodded his head before it clicked with him too.

“You’re Buffy’s friend, right?”

“Yeah, she’s like a big sister” You smiled and he nodded. You spoke amiably for a while rather than actually doing the work you had been assigned at first.

Actually, you found that you were doing most of the talking but you felt comfortable with him in a way you hadn’t expected you would. The guy was pleasant perhaps a bit more reserved than you would have expected for this ‘popular frat guy’ everyone had made him out to be.

“You’re the one stuck living with Spike, huh?”

“Yeah, he’s…”

You didn’t really know how to finish that sentence now. You had formed a kind of truce. A tenuous understanding. He annoyed you still in some sense but you were intrigued by him. You wanted to understand him. See what else he may be hiding deep down. Why he was the way he was. Angel just nodded, presuming that the tailing off was you implying how horrible Spike was. He had never liked him.

You weren’t friends. You weren’t sure that you and Spike would ever end up friends.

[zeleniafic]

Hi, Zel! Ok, ok, ok, now. I know it's hard to think about other OCs when you're deep in writing your current fic, but I'm DYING over here to know more about Primrose, or Sarella, or Cressida! Is there random trivia or headcanons which you'd want to share before you have written them? Is Cressida an "alive", independent OC or did she inspire Sarella? (also thank fo your sweet message! work day's been, well, acceptable, haha.)

Ooooh I'm so excited for this OKAY LET'S GO~ below the cut because this bitch is about to get long lmfao~

Prim is a very fun character to play with because there's kind of two different "versions" of her unfolding at the same time: the version of her that exists now in the present, and the version of her that existed "before." When her story opens in chapter one it shows Prim waking up in the Shire... immediately following the Battle of the Five Armies, where she saw many of her friends and her lover dying, but then when she herself is knocked down... instead of dying, she wakes back up at home a full year before the quest ever began. She thinks she's gone mad, her family certainly thinks she's gone mad, but ultimately she realizes and accepts that this is the reality: she really did live through all that, and now she has a second chance.

One thing that is most fun to me about The Calling is that it's built on an age-old time travel trope that I positively adore, one that I have read countless times over in the Hobbit fandom alone... BUT there's a key difference from Prim's story to others I have read: she wakes up a YEAR before the quest starts. Not a few days, a few hours, or a few minutes... she has a lot of time to think her approach through and isn’t forced to wing it. She has months and months during which she's just stuck there ruminating all day long over the things she knows are in store. And instead of wallowing in her misery (although she kind of does that internally lol) she immediately takes action and does everything she can to ready herself for the quest, and — much to the shock and horror of most other hobbits — ready the Shire for some nebulous threat which only she believes exists. Even though (to her knowledge) the Shire was never really threatened during the "before" time, she has this overwhelming sense of doom and gloom, that something bad IS coming, and it drives her up the wall that most hobbits would rather just ignore the outside world than prepare for any kind of threat. The exception to this is the Bounders, which she is able to force her way into by the grace and favor of Old Took lol.

Prim is... a very angry, very bitter person, but she is that way because of how much she loved her friends and family before, and how much sorrow she felt at losing them. She's a VERY different person this go round; the Prim of before was much more easy-going and really didn't know a thing about survival or fighting, much less war and bloodshed. She comes back a changed person, but of course the people around her don't have the context for it to make SENSE why she's changed so much.

And an unfortunate side effect of that personality shift: she's quite literally a different person now, so of course her relationships with the Company don't slot into place the same way they did the first time around. As much as she was underestimated and judged harshly as a useless dead weight on the group, she was also a kindhearted and easygoing type person who loved a good laugh... as compared to the Prim of NOW, who is much more stand-offish, very goal-oriented, and her sense of humor has very much been killed off, so it takes her a lot longer to reconnect with the Company. And with Kíli in particular! In the OG timeline, Prim and Kíli were smitten with one another very early on, with similar natures and similar humor that they bonded over. Whereas the “now” version of Prim is kind of a big buzzkill, and she finds herself frustrated because she loves  Kíli very much — but the version of him that she remembers is the one who had already been through so much on the quest and matured a bit. And then the dwarf who shows up in the Shire is making foolish mistakes as they set off, and telling jokes about wargs and things that THIS version of Prim doesn’t find funny, and she ends up being frustrated and pushing him away and they kind of hate each other for a bit in the second go around lmfao.

They do reconnect, of course, in the end — and Prim is successful in her mission of saving the Durins! For the most part, there is a happy ending for them all. But there's a lot of heartache on the way there, and Prim is kind of a fantasy take on how trauma impacts a person's life even long after it took place. Some wounds never go away, only scar over and still hurt from time to time... but she DOES get to heal and I think that's important. There's a lot of hurt in this fic, but it isn't a tragedy in the end!

You could call Sarella a spiritual successor to Cressida! I do definitely think of them as individual, separate ideas and characters. In terms of plot and storylines, there’s almost no overlap between the two of them! However, one of the things I thought about a lot because of Cressida was how a sister would slot into the Stannis-Robert-Renly family dynamic — who would she get along with, and how would that change the war? Is she the type of person who would rally the Baratheon vassals after the brothers have died off?! The answer is different for each of them: Cressida is the type who could and does rally the troops, Sarella not so much.

Sarella is also very different from Cressida in several key ways. For example, in the first couple of chapters of Storm’s Roar you see that, up until the events of the story, her whims have been largely indulged by Robert. The biggest of these is that she’s run off every single one of her suitors thus far, not desiring a loveless political marriage, and Robert allowed it out of a dual amusement at her antics and affection for his little sister. This drives a massive wedge between them as the story kicks off, as Robert (whose strings are being pulled behind the scenes, of course) seeks to gain a tighter hold on the West by betrothing Sarella to Jaime Lannister against both of their wills. She protests, but ultimately Robert is the king and his word is law, and this is really the first time since she was a young girl that she has ever been powerless. It’s not an experience that she takes kindly to, even though — very hypocritically — she has very much used that power to her own advantage in the past!

Storm’s Roar is very much a relationship driven story. It’s not about Westeros as a whole, it’s really not even about how the war gets resolved, it’s very narrowly focused on Sarella and the people she loves. Being Renly’s twin, she was a young kid during Robert’s Rebellion and was kept very sheltered from everything that was happening at that time. And from her adolescence on into adulthood, she’s been living a life of great luxury in King’s Landing. As the War of the Five Kings kicks off, the things she loves start to get stripped away from her slowly but surely: garden parties and lavish feasts morph into sieges and armies at the gates, Robert is killed, Renly and Stannis go to war against one another, and her “nephew” Joffrey is a puppet ruler who hates Sarella almost as much as Cersei does — he hates her because she treated him very much like Tyrion did when Robert was alive, mocking and reprimanding him when he was being vile, and of course Cersei’s pre-existing hatred for her is blown up into astronomical proportions when she’s married off to Jaime. Then there’s Jaime, who wants fuck-all to do with her, Tyrion who sees her as a friend but can never really decide how much to trust her, and Tywin who wants her to learn to be a demure little lady and give his house the heirs he’s after. And in the middle of all this there’s Sarella: her friendship with the Starks, taking on a big sister/protector type of role with Sansa and Arya, her grief over her family’s demise, and her relationship with Jaime wherein they both gradually start to care for the other over time no matter how much they both try not to. Along the course of the story, she is stripped out of her life of luxury and forced to FIGHT for what she wants in life. It takes her from a very vapid and spoiled pseudo-princess figure to a much more cutthroat and down-to-earth woman, by the end of things.

OKAY SO. Cressida is a fun one! Honestly, she’s one of my first GoT OCs that I can remember. Sadly, I’ve definitely forgotten a lot of daydream plotting I was doing way back when, because I was a moron who didn’t write a lot of it down, but I DID find some notes saved from 2019 for her story!

By contrast to Sarella: she’s just enough older that it makes a difference, such that unlike Sarella she wasn’t successful at fending off marriages. Cressida was just old enough at the time of the rebellion that her hand was promised away as a political alliance to help Robert win the war. And thus, her first romantic relationship: Tommard Dondarrion. Only, it isn’t really a romantic thing. Cressida is not attracted to men, not even slightly — though of course our terms don’t exist within her world and so she never names herself as such, she IS still a lesbian — and so this marriage is even more stifling than marriages like this inherently always are. She knows her duty, and she does it: she has two children by Tommard, a teenage son named Steffon, and a young girl named Argella. She loves them very dearly and defends them fiercely, but being forced to play the role of wife as such is still very stifling to her.

After Tommard’s death, she kind of blossoms into a brighter version of herself freed from the shackles of marriage, which is something she feels very guilty about given that he was only ever good to her. Cressida grapples with it a lot because she can’t bring herself to hate Tommard. As far as forced marriages and orientation go in GoT world, she basically struck gold: Tommard is a very kind and respectful husband. He’s sad that she can’t love him the way he loves her, but he doesn’t hate her for it, he doesn’t treat her cruelly, and he has zero sexual expectations of her: they only lay with one another for the purpose of having children, which is not something she was pressured into. Tommard is a wonderful father and Cressida feels very guilty that she can’t give him the love she thinks he deserves. And then he goes off and dies fighting the Greyjoys, cutting his life short, which only serves to make her feel even more guilty.

Along the way, she has some other loves or wished-for loves: she has long had a crush on Brienne of Tarth, which Renly thought was quite funny and 100% would have endorsed except that Brienne is oblivious to it for some time and then avoids Cressida after discovering it because she doesn’t return the same affections and doesn’t really know what to say, because she respects Cressida and values her as a friend. It’s dreadfully awkward LOL. They end up being separated for years during the war, and when they reunite... they’re both very different. Brienne has grown past the awkwardness and tries to apologize for not being there to protect Cressida and her children, though Cressida tells her that’s foolish and she was playing a more important role with Sansa. Cressida has long since moved past that unrequited love, and they reunite as friends, in the end!

Her next “love” never really got to blossom into a full one either. She and Margaery Tyrell had a bit of a thing, but of course Margaery knows the importance of being discreet. Most of their love story is stolen glances and gestures full of promise, things wished for but not acted upon. Margaery still dies in this story, which cuts their story short before it really has a chance to bloom.

Her last love is the one that is fully requited, and the one she gets to keep in the end, which is a non-POV OC, Jeyne Hornwood. Jeyne is someone Cressida meets during the war in the last few years of it. They are friends first, supporting one another, and it evolves into love. When the story ends, Jeyne is alive and well at Cressida’s side, welcomed into the family by the kids and everyone.

As for the war: Cressida has a much bigger role in it than Sarella! She’s more mature, she’s more martial-minded than Sarella is, and she’s got a rapport established with the Baratheon vassals that Sarella does not. When Robert and Stannis and Renly are all dead, Cressida steps into the power vacuum and takes charge, refusing to let House Baratheon fall into nothing or be absorbed by another house. This is a VERY condensed version because holy fuck this post got long (I’m so sorry) but the story ends like this: House Baratheon remains on the throne with Cressida as Queen and Gendry is legitimized as her heir much to his panic, but with Cressida ruling for a good many years yet he has time to learn the ropes. Likewise, Cressida’s son Steffon inherits Storm’s End, and Argella is named heir to House Dondarrion’s seat. Shireen, having been saved from Melisandre by Steffon, is recognized as Stannis’ heir and inherits Dragonstone. Cressida actively searches for her brother’s royal bastards, determined not to let Blackfyre history repeat, but almost all of them have been killed off: Edric Storm was sacrificed to R'hllor (which was extremely angsty for a while because Cressida was led to believe that Steffon had been sacrificed, instead) and Mya Stone is the only one left standing other than Gendry, however she refuses any offer of legitimization and chooses to continue living her quiet life guiding mules to the Eyrie.

I don’t remember a great deal about how the rest of the kingdom fared after the war (it’s mostly focused on the various branches of House Baratheon, and those they call friends) but I believe in the end: Dorne and the North were fully independent. Cressida has a strong relationship with the Starks, and a cordial kind of working relationship with Dorne. The majority of the Lannisters (Jaime and Tyrion excluded) and Targaryens were wiped out, between first fighting each other and then the Others. And the Vale and especially the Riverlands maintain a STRONG bond with the North, but do ultimately remain a part of the kingdom under Baratheon rule. Cressida is a much better ruler than Robert ever was, and Gendry is a better heir than Joffrey ever was, so the story ends with lots of promise for the kingdom to build back strong after all that bloodshed.

There is, obviously, a whole lot of plotting required to work all that out on a nitty-gritty level lmfao unfortunately past me was horrible and didn’t write it down anywhere that I can find right now lol rip. Hopefully someday I’ll actually be able to hammer it all out and WRITE IT because I actually forgot just how much I love Cressida and her lil family! So a big thanks for reminding me of that.

[jamiedc-they-them]

Legacies and the people behind them Part II (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: A year or so later with your family, you are brought on for another job involving a dead man you called a friend and another friend trying to get you to see the good in your powers that all had done bad What could go wrong?

“How was Y/N?” Deke asked, still a bit bitter at not hearing about his grandad’s passing. Still, you were his friend, and you had – apparently – returned, even if he hadn’t seen you yet.

“They were fine. Good fighter. Saved my ass multiple times.” Daisy responded with as she checked the Zephier once again, doing anything to avoid faux Coulson downstairs. She missed Deke’s little smile.

“Yeah, they always were up for a good scrap when it came to it…I’m glad they found you,” Daisy stopped what she was doing and turned to him, “Really, I think you’ve been a great help. Especially when it comes to her – you know,” He held out his hand as you both would to use your ability, “That whole thing.” He was little awkward at that one.

Daisy nodded slowly, “Yeah…haven’t seen them use that a lot out there. Not much time to cover it and all, given our hunt and small ship to practice in.” Daisy admitted, going back to work.

That made Deke’s smile drop, “What? But, I thought –”

“I would’ve, Deke. Trust me, I want them to get a hang of it. But…whenever I try and do it, they just…hide from it.” She almost sounded a little sad at having to admit that.

Deke then nodded, “Always did scare them.”

Daisy nodded too, “You know, I keep telling them that it’s ok to be scared, but that they’re a gift, not a curse. Just seems to fall on deaf ears; definitely a Johnson trait they got from me.” Daisy forced a chuckle at her own words.

But, she then paused, an idea struck.

 You, meanwhile, were in your room. Despite being a Johnson, you were definitely more introverted than Daisy was. She had no issue with that, of course, just something of note.

But one thing that was, you could tell, of note and concern was the way you didn’t Quake anyone at all on your journey to find Fitz, even when high.

If anything, that just amplified your fear.

You heard a knock at the door. Opening, you saw Daisy there.

She gave you a smile, “I need you for something.” She said, getting right to it.

Despite the smile, you knew it was to disarm you, “Daisy –” You said, putting your head against the doorway.

“It’s with Coulson.” That made you look up, “I can’t do this alone. And…I think it’ll be good practice for you –”

“No.” You were the one who was blunt now, eyes sharp and sure of your answer.

She sighed, “Y/N, I get that you’re scared –”

“I’m terrified. I – we saved the world, but I’m not even meant to be here yet. Like…what if I do it now.”

She saw so much of herself in you, “Y/N…I’d never let that happen.”

“Yeah, well, be too late by then.” You forced out your chuckle at your words.

“I’ll be right here. I’ll be with you the whole time. Ok, promise.” She swore to you.

She knew she didn’t make promises lightly. And you knew that you were now, officially an agent. So, it was your duty to go after the weird shit.

You sighed, “Let’s go.” You agreed.

Daisy’s smile grew, but now it had a supportive edge to it.

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You had seen Sarge like once, but my god if he wasn’t a carbon copy of Coulson. Well, in everything but personality.

And, almost immediately, Daisy’s promise died, “You, hacker, with me.” Sarge ordered.

“I’m ok back here.” Daisy said, knowing that you were silently distressed by his demand.

He turned and looked back at you all with a cold expression, “I need an extra pair of eyes in front. Motormouth is busy, and last time Smiles was up there she tried to kill me. And the antithesis to Motormouth is living up to the name, but I’ll took to them later, so...”

“She’s your OG crew. Take her.” Daisy said, pointing to the female who was indeed on Coulson’s – Sarges original crew.

“Snowflake stays here. You don’t trust me, I don’t trust you. So, take a seat in front or tell your boss to send me someone useful.”

Daisy looked to you, putting a hand on your shoulder, “I’ll be back, promise.” She then left you. And, after you looked to Deke, who gave you a tiny smile before becoming enamoured with Snowflake once again, yourself and May went to sit down.

You were in for a long ride.

“Daisy told me about how you fought while you were away. Glad to see the training came in handy.” May said as you both sat on the sofa. You kind of liked the silence, the way the road made the vehicle bounce.

You felt the vibration from it, and you felt it probably more than she did.

You knew May was a keen observer of things, so you knew you had to be careful.

“She told me –”

“I get what you’re trying to do. I don’t need them, not here. Besides, if we do, Daisy will use them. She controls them better.” You argued, knowing where this was going.

May just held your stare as she spoke, “We could always use another –”

“Yeah, well, I think one Johnson blowing up the world is enough.” You did not want to sound mean, but still.

“It won’t if you control it. Daisy can help.” May seemed adamant to not let it go, “I know you can feel the vibration. I know you feel the urge to do something with them. It’s ok to –”

“All this thing’s ever done is hurt. I hurt Daisy with it when I first met her; hurt myself when I was ‘training’. If I could get rid of it, I would.”

May went to talk, when Daisy left the room, “You, pebbles, you’re up next.” Sarge ordered.

You gulped; you weren’t going to lie if you weren’t nervous. You felt the vibrations more then, you felt your body itching for you ability to be used. You clenched your hand in a fist.

You met the eyes of Daisy, “You got this.” She told you, trying to make you believe the words. You nodded, smiling a bit in thanks for them. You appreciated them.

Just like other words of encouragement she has given you on a certain topic, they were appreciated, but not believed.

You entered his cabin; it looked like any normal truck cabin. To be honest, he looked like a normal man.

So did you. So, you had that in common.

“Daisy says you’re have something different about you too.” Jesus, seemed everyone wanted to talk about this topic, huh?

“Sure. Just as you’re something else too.”

“Touché. And, before you ask about the face, no I don’t care.”

“Good, I wasn’t. You gonna ask me about my ‘gift’.”

Sarge scoffed, “I’m interested. But, your friend seemed almost desperate, even moved the conversation onto that. Seems you’ve got someone protective.”

“More like insistent on my abilities.”

Sarge chuckled, “You got people who care. But, you don’t control that thing, it’ll be the end of you all. You’ll be the weak link, you’d be vulnerable.”

His words hit you; hard. Sure, Daisy had talked about a worry with your abilities; you even had your own insecurities. But…this. This hurt.

You didn’t reply. You didn’t want to become any weaker.

You didn’t want to be the end of them all.

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You left, seeing that apparently Deke had made a playmate. Daisy and May came to you when they saw you leave.

“You ok?” Daisy asked.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, fine.” You said, feeling the urge with your ability more and more.

Daisy and May shared a look, clearly not believing yours.

However, Sarge then came out. He looked to you, only. You, however, got a better read on him this time.

Seemed, almost, that your words to him and openness made him want to open up a little with you.

You smiled a bit, you were getting somewhere.

“Chronyca-2 was the closest we came to stopping her. We took out her crew, we had her trapped…and then she was gone. We have no idea how.” He told you as he brewed…something, and you guys drank from your mugs.

“After you destroyed the planet?” May questioned.

“We didn’t destroy it. By the time we got there, it had already begun. But, this time, we’re one step ahead. We can keep it from happening here. All of us, with all our abilities.” You just knew he threw that last bit in for you. Daisy snuck a glance to you, but your eyes was only on the man.

May then pushed, after the pause, “What’s her motive?”

“Hatred, for all living things.” Well, then.

“What’s yours?” Daisy asked that one.

“Love,” you all looked at him with doubting looks, “No, it’s hate. That’s my thing, too. Hate and revenge.” There you go.

“She took my family from me. I won’t stop until she pays for that.” It was honest.

“How do we stop her?” You asked, speaking up now.

Sarge rose, going to grab an object. He showed it to you, “There’s only one way to kill the beast.”

It was –

“A galaxy hopping hate-beast that eats planets and you want to defeat her with a, um, sword?” Daisy scoffed, not being able to hide the amusement.

“It’s sharp, feel it.” He offered.

“Yeah, gonna have to pass on that one.” You said, Daisy looked to you with a smirk.

“Well, I’ll tell you what it’s really made of once you tell me your secret.” You knew what that meant.

He went for Daisy with the blade, but it was shot out of his hand the next moment by a strong and concentrated – well, kind of – gust of wind.

Daisy looked to your outstretched hand, eyes wide. She then looked back as Sarge picked it up again, she then sent it up to the ceiling with a more controlled blast.

“There they are. Hacker, and silent, huh?” So, he knew. And you had – thankfully – not destroyed anything.

His device then pinged, “It’s starting.” That was concerning.

“What’s starting?” May asked.

“The end.” That was even more concerning.

As you all went to the cabin, you saw just what ‘The end’ was. It was a tower, a massive one made of what looked like to be spikes.

Or, as you coined the term when Sarge explained them, Shrike spikes.

His plan was even worse. May even scoffed at it. Now, apparently, SHIELD had some shit plans in the past, but with Sarges, it seemed to almost take the cake.

It was to simply plough into the tower, then stab Izel when she came down.

Yeah, failproof.

Deke came back with what he had been working on, apparently a thing to help attract the Shrike.

Then the call from your friends came in.

Then came what would be your end if you didn’t act quick.

So, you and Daisy both held out your hands just in case. Just in case you needed to do this.

As he explained his plan, he then looked to you, “You won’t do it. You’ll just hit the bomb and set if off too early.” Wit the look in your eyes and how it shifted, he could tell he was right, “As I said, weakest link.”

With Snowflake realising this was it and shrieking (ha), Sarge used it to escape. Daisy went to quake the door, but May stopped her.

Then it was a desperate search. You ignored all the chatter, you could only hear the heartbeat thudding your ears as you looked. You felt the vibrations more, you felt the urge more and more.

You then happened to look over and saw that Deke held the bomb. It was glowing, pulsing. It was bigger than you thought it would be.

Deke looked around, meeting your eyes with his wide ones.

Fuck.

The world to you was a buzz, the vibrations getting more and more. You saw Daisy saying something to Deke, but you could tell she was antsy. You could tell she was scared. You could feel it in the vibrations of her footsteps, the vibration of her heartbeat. It was beating faster than your own.

You felt it pick up more as Deke looked at you all with a sorrowful expression. You felt a hand in your hand, seeing Daisy look at you with what was an attempt at a comforting smile.

“But, you don’t control that thing, it’ll be the end of you all. You’ll be the weak link, you’d be vulnerable.” You remembered Sarge saying.

You were vulnerable right now. And a bomb that was going to go off was in front of you.

You looked to Daisy, and you clenched your free fist, before you pushed her towards May and ran to the bomb. Then the lights went out.

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The lights came back on, and Daisy heard it. She heard it. It was the first thing she heard.

That familiar hum.

She opened her eyes, seeing you, both hands out, a look of pure concentration on your face. She saw the way you were sweating. She saw the way you weren’t fighting it anymore. She saw the way you were putting your all into it.

She saw the way you put the nuke back in the bomb. She caught you when you fell back, panting for air.

“You did it. You did it.” You told you.

Now, you had one more issue, the Shrike. The tower had been destroyed, but now they had been unleashed. And they were hungry and pissed.

So, guess who the target was?

You all got panels for the windows. You heard them. You didn’t know how many, but you knew you didn’t want to find out. All you wanted was to keep them away.

You could deal with Sarge later.

You had done what you could, but then they went silent.

You and Daisy shared a silent look, you felt it too.

Together, you both went to the door, opening it and looking up at them. Instantly, they swarmed down.

You both looked back at your friends, telling them to hold back.

Together, you held out your hands…waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Finally, they entered…

Only to turn to dust.

You had done it, your mission was completed. You had made it.

[thoughtfulpaperback]

CHARMED 03X01 REVIEW SPOILERS!!!!!!!

First of all, I am sooo excited that Charmed is back for season 3. I am honestly so conflicted about this first episode. Entertainment value-wise the episode was a solid 8/10 for me maybe even a 9/10, but it was filled with so many little tropes that bother me that by the end of watching I was left half smiling and half confused and dissatisfied.

But, there was some nice OG Charmed references that I thought were clever so maybe I should go 9/10.

Anyways, I think I'll stick to form. Dislikes first, likes, and then memorable moments.

DISLIKES

1) Jimmy and the memory manipulation/wipe troupe.

I am probably biased because I've hated this move since OG Charmed and especially since Supernatural and its "solution" to Lisa and Ben.

My biggest issue with this sort of thing is that there is no guarantee that changing someone's memories or even how they see themselves/interact with others will PROTECT them.

Granted the girls may not be thinking of protecting Jimmy, but they seem to he continually forgetting that his and Harry's lives are connected. Also that the Faction is everywhere. People believing Jimmy is a good man won't stop people from hurting him or from finding out he has powers. Heck! The guy could get hit by a bus and that's the end of Harry.

I love the sentiment and idea of Jimmy getting a chance to live a life where he isn't carrying the weight of the trauma from being in darkness and believing he is nothing but the bad/irredeemable parts of James (the "whole" person).

I assume because of the fact the potion probably cannot do those things (protect jimmy or strip powers) that we may seem him back if not for the next two episodes, which were supposed to be the end of season 2, then later this season.

2) Mel's Meltdown

So...I have no problem with Mel freaking out about the situation. But I thought they all had collectively done this and moved forward last season. Wasn't that what the whole episode of them getting back thier powers was about? Also, did they really make Mel's freak out about a woman/relationship. Mel who has navigated similar issues seasons past? Mel who gave Maggie a hard time about it last season (technically earlier om the same season since this episode was written to be a part of last season). Growth isn't a straight line to walk and I am okay with similar insecurities and patterns arising in characters behaviors/storyline, but this feels lazy. I want more for and from Mel at this point especially when last season they gave her sloppy and quick "growth and acceptance" storylines (really just a few minutes on the whole of season 2).

3) No explanation of Maggie's power mismanagement

I will say that because her powers are a new development I dont have issue with her not being able to handle them perfectly. If only we could all be automatically perfect at any new skill we want. I take issue with not having a real explanation or solution

Was it an issue of her own repressed emotions making her powers too strong? Was it that these were new emotions she had to try to push onto Mel (chill versus calm in wording). And then the solution was just that the emotions would fade away.

I mean they didn't need a big thing. And the fading away isn't really a big issue with me, but is it unclear because it may happen again? If they don't plan on similar misshaps then I would have preferred to have some understanding of why this was happening to her. But if we something similar later on I can forgive it.

LIKES

1) Hacy

I like that they get right to Macy knowing about what Harry asked Maggie to do. I still felt they hadn't resolved the issue fully at the end of this episode, but I like that everything was laid on the table. I especially love the clarity of thier feelings "I dont want anyone else"/"Neither do I" because some shows take these situations in the direction of having playing up insecurities and jealousy. Aka they spend so much time fighting about how the person wants to be with someone else or being jealous of other relationships the character has *cough* CAOS *cough*. And honestly that was so 2020. I am glad we left that in last year. I crave open and honest communication even if the solution isn't quick and easy.

2) Jordan and Abby's side quest.

I loved Jordan and Harry's day out last season. I think I loved this more.

Not just the possible hints that maybe Abby could be part of a dark trio of sisters, but I love the references to og charmed and the times the girls had to release people from art or got trapped in art. "It happens more often than you think".

I also loved Jordan's sassy-ness with Abby and that reference to Abby and Harry's "deal" last season. Lol to the horrified "Not that!".

The actors did a really good job together and the storyline was strong and entertaining.

3) Viv confirmed mastermind/Julian confirmed dope and more info on black amber.

I mean we knew and it doesn't absolve Julian of blame, but confirming that Vivian's plans have nothing to do with helping or healing and everything to do with amassing power for herself is nice to finally have especially when it gives us more insight into black amber.

Seriously, last season was actually really bad at world building as far as setting up deeper lore. I mean the extent of what black amber can do was still largely a mystery. It can be used to raise the dead, but can't heal human illness????? It can give Maggie and Mel new powers, but couldn't do the same for Macy??? Also how did the girls reach that conclusion given what little we all know of black amber???

Anyways, those plotholes aside, they at least gave us that information. Hopefully it is true and not just misunderstanding.

Moving on....

Episode Highlights

Jimmy riling up Mel: "come on"

Lol

"I just want us"

Jordan to Abby; *grossed out* "Not that."

Viv and Juliana looking at glowing box and talking about magic.

[ben-the-hyena]

You know the more I watch og Penelope Pitstop content, the more I feel like she actually was a bad person from the start or at least already grey (there were instances of her genuinely helping people like who she thought to be Red Riding Hood's grandma for example) but mostly pretending (and believed to be with how popular she was with a reputation of being nice and pretty) to be kind, which comforts my theory of her turning into an abusive mom to reboot Penelope and Pandora even more

Oh yes if you guys are not familiar with my theory, I wrote it in 3 posts, I HC she and Petunia are the same people and that an accumulation of a lot of bad things in her life made her bitter à la Beatrice Horseman and thus a bad mother : first post, second post and third post

What I mean is despite not being a cartoon villain like the Dastardlys or the other villains of the show, she is something a bit more realistic we could know in real life and who lives thanks to her charisma and reputation, we all know someone we KNOW is an asshole but nobody believes you because in appearence and reputation they are flawless (I know a bunch...)

Upon rewatching the old show and rereading comics, Penelope just feels really... fake nice, just the nice smiley you would expect of ladies back then but not out of sincerity but because they have to be charming and feminine and neutral faces are not feminine

And most of the times she takes advantage of men especially Peter to do the work for her and then doesn't help she just thanks them and they are happy simps, and ince they helped her OFF SHE GOES and doesn't do anything but a smile and blowing a kiss ; even her way to speak/her tone feels fake to me, always something that sounds naive and innocent and charming full of cute and amazed adjectives for everything and lil giggles making it feel dulcet to me

She rarely does something her car gadgets are ONLY for makeup and she spends most of her time in wanting to look beautiful, as ig to her a girl had to be pretty all the time AND she was pretty sure that with no effort she would probably win anywat by waving and giggling at the other dumb racers who would stop to help or slow down for her, she is a fan favorite too, so why bother with efforts ? Efforts are for boys ; if indeed she is Petunia she does reproach her daughter to truely race and not "leave it to the boys"

Making it feel like she is a case of mysoginistic woman. Not just if we go with her being Penelope the 1st/Petunia making very mean and sexist remarks to Penelope the 2nd about how she has to find a man, should settle down and retire, would get fat at any snack and that if she is fat she would be alone etc but also here where to her all women love girly things and if they don't they are not real women to her eyes

And let's not forget that until recently I did think she was sincere about Peter Perfect, but in the comics it's a recurring gag that she flirts both with him and Red Max and loves to have them fight for her, it's amusing and useful. Wtf that's a hoe move, like she loves to feel wanted and fought for (plus in the context of that page it makes 2 rivals less AND allows her once again to suceed without doing anything ; she knows what she is doing), and probably doesn't love any of them but flirts because they are strong handsome racers like her and she is so girly with the standards of that time she absolutely wants to have a ring put on her by any of them not out of love but so she has her wedding, and in the meantime has fun with her simps ; who knows what she does or says to the Anthill Mob (A FUCKING MOB WHO PROBABLY KILLED PEOPLE) for them to simp for her so hard they save her ass because she is pretty and "nice to them" one time out if 2

And lastly, more a theory than anything else this time... y'all remember that episode where we ALL agree, Dick Dastardly DID win but then the judges disqualified him using a tape that was obviously fake because too different from what we saw and even Dick and Muttley were horribly surprised as if they truely never extended their car, and more racers had done so before but never were disqualified and that is the biggest unfair scandal on television ? Either they hated him so much they didn't want him to win at all cost, or they had been bribed. And given how second place was Penelope Pitstop and she now wins by default, either they were bribed by a fan... or ny herself. She does hate Dick Dastardly, not polite to him (rightfully so tho) when he lands in her car, so maybe the thought of losing to "THIS LOSER NOBODY LIKES ANYWAY" had her act. I mean, I don't trust how innocently happy she looks when she gets all the glory right after that

Ok so before you all jump at my neck because of this post and the other ones I linked : I AM aware that the fact she is a bitch is just a theory and that canonly she is not lol and 1) I don't make that because I don't like her and want her to be awful, I just am someone who loves to overanalyze cartoon psychology and I do find a good tragical evolution into going from good guy to bastard with bastard hints from the start fascinating and 2) ok sure it's true I don't like her but I don't dislike her for the theories I made up myself of course not lol I dislile her just like I dislile most og racers for having one character trait and being all bland and even I, an anti-SJW, do find her to be a bit too much of 1 sexist stereotype in the og show at least lol and 3) AGAIN I didn't make these theories because I don't like her but ON THE CONTRARY to explore psyche and make her more interesting to my eyes lol

In conclusion : original Penelope Pitstop may be a bitch in sheep's clothing, while reboot Penelope, despite often forcing niceness and and happiness probably pressured by the former, hiding her anger and snapping violently several times, is actually a nice person who means it more sincerely and genuinely