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purpleyin · 2 years ago

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Time for an angsty many years post-Crooked Kingdom Kaz whump concept. More of a not!fic style but I hope it's still enjoyable🖤

all the nightmares I’ve had

Years after Kaz gets his revenge, Pekka Rollin's family is killed in a tragic accident. It has nothing to do with Kaz or the Crows but Pekka is convinced Kaz is responsible. Pekka is deep in his grief, reckless and has no fear for what he could lose any more, Inej's threats to himself forgotten. He surprises Kaz, and his touch aversion works against him, so Pekka does manage to take him down along with the help of some chemicals. Kaz had made progress on that, less guarded and covered up these days, but if there's one person guaranteed to take him right back to the barge mentally it's Pekka touching him. Pekka gets him into the coffin so easily after that, buries him six feet deep, but he doesn't just want to kill him. He sets up a way that Kaz won't run out of air down there. No, it will be dehydration that kills him as he slowly starves down there too. He's groggy from the drugs and injured from the scuffle with Pekka but he knows well enough he has no way out this time because it isn't locks he can pick that trap him, instead an oppressive mass of earth bearing down on him, gravity itself working against his escape. Even those who try to pull off such tricks as entertainment often die trying, so Kaz has no hope he can evade this when the circumstances here are designed to kill. As he comes back to more himself, the dawning reality is so much harder to deal with. Being left for dead is his worst nightmare happening all over again, despite that it isn't the barge, it's still too close. He won't call out via the spout in case Pekka is listening, waiting for him to beg - he won't give Pekka that satisfaction. Pekka won't have been foolish enough to bury Kaz where anyone else would overhear any cries for help anyway. Pekka's hubris is much the same as Kaz's was, abandoning the simple solution of a quick death because he wants him to suffer as long as possible, for it to be fitting. Just how long Kaz can last is partly a matter of willpower, how long he can remain calm and hang on to the will to live. Hope has never been something Kaz put much stock in but he clings to the hope that people will miss him, that they will care to look for him, that he will be found in time, not forgotten down here as he grows groggier again with lack of water. To distract himself, he stews on plans for his own revenge once he gets out of this, until it becomes too hard to think properly and the old fears creep back into his hazy mind. Water starts to seeps in from rain down the air spout, leaving him wet and cold and losing any remaining faith that he will get out of this nightmare. The Crows don't know Kaz is missing until the next day and they spend over a day searching the city until Jesper finally gets a feeling drawing him towards Black Veil island, hoping desperately that the incredibly rare mineral he's sensing there is indeed from Kaz's rather unique wedding ring Inej got him on her travels. They scour the cemetery for the exact source, silent as the grave once they find the freshly dug ground someone had tried to pack down harder, now sodden with the night's rain as well. Inej is the one to spot the strange pipe coming out of the ground. "He's still alive," she proclaims, and Jesper just hopes she's right about what it means. Inej starts scraping back soil in swathes with her knives, while the rest of them go to locate some metal Jesper can fashion into shovels. The time spent digging up that grave feels like the longest time of Jesper's life. When they pull Kaz - pale and wet and shaking but alive - from the coffin, Jesper is witness to the most public display of affection he's ever seen by Kaz and Inej. Kaz clings to Inej like she's his lifeline to the living, though Kaz is careful once again to not touch any skin. Jesper has to look away, giving them their privacy as best he can, until the moment passes and Inej turns to ask Wylan for the water bottle they brought along.

When Kaz seems a bit more focused, Inej asks “Pekka?” with her voice like a knife. “Pekka,” Kaz confirms sharply, but his eyes taking on a dark far away look, staring past them all in a way that worries Jesper. Inej leaves abruptly, with murder in her eyes, so it falls to Jesper and Wylan to cautiously help Kaz to the carriage. They're careful to keep their touches firmly over Jesper's coat that they help the shivering Kaz into, in case their proximity might trigger him like it used to. They go back to the mansion, setting Kaz up in the guest room they all know is really his anyhow. Kaz is quiet, no smart remarks and no refusal of the help they give, accepting any comfort they can provide him that isn't touch. Wylan brings up a pot of hot, very sugary tea and so much food. The tray placed on the side of the bed is laden with far more than he could possibly eat, but every item is a favourite of Kaz's; foods Kaz would deny caring one jot for but anyone observant enough would know to be true. Jesper waits by his side, wishing he could hug Kaz, however briefly, to feel him solid and safe in his arms, but he doesn't dare ask right now. Being there is hopefully enough. With Jesper watching over him, Kaz sleeps, curled up in the layers of soft, warm blankets they gave him that he'd normally scoff at and turn down.

When Kaz wakes, Jesper's heart skips a beat in anticipation as Kaz reaches out his hand as if to touch him, only for that hope to be dashed as Kaz snatches his hand back suddenly, not able to complete the intended action. Kaz scowls, looking down at the floor. But then he says something that surprises Jesper, “Thank you, Jes.” Kaz's gaze shifts to looking down at the bed covers as he says it, a discomfit evident in the tension of his shoulders and the tight grip of one hand on his other in his lap. “You don't need to thank me, you podge.” Jesper replies, exasperated but fondly said nevertheless. “This is what we do, we look out for one another.” Kaz simply nods and Jesper decides now is a good time to fetch more food and drink, to leave Kaz to his thoughts for a bit.

Inej comes back in the evening, her clothes freshly changed and the scent of the cleaner she uses on her knives trailing in her wake. She only says "It's done" to the room when she appears suddenly, no one needs to ask what. Then she climbs onto the bed with Kaz, prompting Jesper to quickly leave them be. The newspapers the next day don't show the gruesome detail of a man taken to pieces in a depiction of any sort for that would be far too improper, but they spare no words to describe the unexpected downfall of a once barrel boss practically forgotten and by now only remarkable in his manner of death. That morning, when they take up a tray of food and the paper, he sees Kaz smirk, for the first time since they rescued him, at the sight of the headline.

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rcntlydcccased · 3 years ago

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Thoughts on the ending of the novel ‘Hannibal’

I know the whole world has decided whether they love or hate the ending of the series but I need to get my own thoughts in order lol. When I first finished it I had a major “what the actual fuck” moment but now I’ve given myself a day to construct an opinion and here it is:

(TLDR: I don’t think the end was out of character and it was inevitable from the start)

And Spoilers. Obviously.

I think it was inevitable that Clarice starling and Hannibal lecter would end up together in some capacity and I feel like everyone knew that, even if they didn’t envision it happening in the exact way it did in the final novel. I’m gonna make a quick callback to the gothic literary technique of doubling for context: “Doubling refers to a multiplication by two, such as when two or more characters parallel each other in action or personality. It can also mean internal doubling, or division within the self to exhibit a duality of character.” Generally, this is the good and evil divide. Jekyll and Hyde is an example. Lecter is the dark side in this duo and Clarice is the good, moral side. It is clear in the novel that neither character can live completely disconnected from the other. They are doubles, extensions of one another. Both have suffered trauma in their childhoods, both are haunted by memories of their past (Mischa and Starling’s father / the lambs) and both are considered outcasts (Clarice being a “white trash” female with an ill reputation in the FBI and Hannibal being… Hannibal). I think from the moment Clarice first meets Hannibal Lecter in Baltimore state hospital, that concept of doubling kicks in and they’re immediately intertwined by fate. Remember, this is a BOOK, not real life; every single interaction has some sort of calculated relevance. From that point of the initial meeting onwards, they orbit each other. Clarice is drawn by Lecter in the sense that he’s the only one capable of helping her complete the investigation which she believes will silence the lambs. He’s the ONLY one who knows about Clarice’s struggles and I think she realises that he understands her more than anyone ever has. Each time she visits him she learns something new about herself and I think anyone would find that exhilarating. Hannibal Lecter is driven by Clarice because he has nothing else that mentally challenges him in the present. He loves challenge and he loves fun, as is emphasised many times, and deconstructing Clarice is the only real fun he’s had in years. He’s found somebody to converse with who he realises is just as smart as him, and becomes intensely drawn to her. Anyone who argues he isnt at the very least intrigued didn’t read the same novel as me: he spends his free time writing to her and drawing her and talking about her to Barney. Additionally, from that point early on I think he subconsciously makes that link between her and Mischa which drives his obsession. When Clarice successfully concludes the Jame Gumb case and lecter escapes, you get the idea that both of these characters have achieved their ultimate goals. Harris could’ve wrapped it up there and had the two characters split ways but that would never have been believable because they’d become so dependent on one another over the course of the novel and also trauma does not resolve that easy. The lambs don’t stop screaming and lecter is unable to simply forget about someone who’s influenced him so much. I think at this point Lecter sees her as an unfinished project more than a potential paramour. I don’t think that at this time he’s even aware he’s capable of that sort of sentimentality. In the Hannibal novel, we see that Clarice’s reputation is taking a major hit and her only motivation to continue working so hard for FBI is trying to ease this deep rooted shame / obligation she feels regarding her father; ergo her faithfulness to the institution is shaky at best. Lecter himself is free in Italy, living his best life, yet he still cannot shake Agent Starling from his head. Every motivation he has in the novel somehow links back to Clarice and you get the sense that his character will never be at peace until he can get closure with Clarice. Whether he wants to simply have a conversation with her a final time, kill and eat her or run away with her, we do not know yet at this point. All we do know is he is undeniably is attracted to her in some inescapable way.

As for Starling, we get the sense she’ll never be at peace until she can wrap up her business with Lecter. He is her driving force even eight years on. She's going through the motions up until there's movement within the Lecter case again, and then her drive kicks back in tenfold. The intensity and thoroughness of her investigations are reminiscent of the way she was back in Silence of the Lambs. You see it in the setting up of "Hannibal's house". It's borderline a shrine to Lecter and Harris writes it that way deliberately. Think of the many, many chapters in which she dedicated to finding out about his tastes? In doing so she learned more about Lecter as a person than anyone had ever done. And so, the novel establishes itself as a very strange sort of slow burn(?) in which the climax is destined to be these two characters coming back together in some way shape or form. Skipping over the middle stuff and right to the end, it makes perfect sense that Clarice would independently seek out Hannibal at Verger’s farm. At this point she is working against Krendler and Verger and so, in a strange way, she is working for Lecter. She can’t just let them kill him because then she would really have nothing left and she’d get no closure about his intentions, about why he’s been keeping such a close eye on her in his own time. Her goal at this point is to capture him and incarcerate him. She treats him with upmost respect when she finds him tied up but still has that fiery spark that makes her such a good fucking character. She’s not afraid of him at all. Lecter loves this. He shows that it in the way he cheerfully and sarcastically translates her orders to his captors. This is all a game to him and Hannibal Lecter lives for fun.

Then, of course, she is shot and the sequence that turned so many away from the novel begins. A lot of people think the ending of Hannibal is out of character for starling and I agree. But I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Of course she was out of character, she was under the influence of some major drugging and psychotherapy. People seem to be upset since they think that Clarice would never willingly stoop to the level of the man she's sought to capture - that she'd never eat brains with him and converse casually - but I’m not so convinced.

The whole end section does feel like a dream sequence and I'd be lying if I said I loved it. It was the only time I was ever disappointed with the novel because everything had been so richly described up until that point. I wish Harris had gone more into depth with the whole therapy "brainwashing"* shit because I think, if he'd taken the time to better explain it, people would have been more inclined to enjoy it and accept it as feasible.

Hannibal Lacter is evil. He eats people. Of course he'd do something as insane as trying to turn the woman he's obsessed with into a vessel unto which he can insert his long lost sister to deal with his unresolved trauma. It's so unbelievably in character because he is insane. Sure, he's also a genius but this genius is what makes him insane and, by extension, truly terrifying. People forget that he's just as out of his mind as Starling is at this point (*as for the brainwashing, I think people get it a little mixed up. The sequence where Hannibal retrieves the drugs from the hospital wasn't there for fun, nor were the specified drugs put in there just for the sake of it. I don't have the names on hand right now but I remember researching a lot of the named substances Hannibal used on Clarice, and surprisingly a lot of it was nothing more than beefed up anxiety medication as opposed to the magical brainwashing drugs people seem to think he's using. Obviously this probably could've been specified by Harris but I guess he wanted us to do our own research? Hannibal isn't so much brainwashing her as he is essentially administering hardcore therapy. These drugs are only loosening up her mind, rather than altering it. Is it still fucked up? Absolutely. But I think the distinction is still important make- Starling here is STILL Starling, just a version of her in which her subconscious thoughts and desires have been forced to the forefront.) Hannibal realises eventually that Clarice will never give herself up to his warped fantasy of becoming a vessel for Mischa. Starling herself is still in there somewhere - alluded to when she suddenly recalls the conversation Lecter had with the senator in regards to her breastfeeding Catherine. In that moment, she seems nearly in control of herself as she recollects what she knows about Lecter's childhood and relationship with his family and uses it against him. She almost mocks him in that scene as she asks if he felt deprived when he had to share his mother with his sister, and then... that scene happens.

I know people say the sequence where Clarice exposes herself to Lecter is out of character and I did initially too, but after consideration I think me and all of those other people were still imagining Jodie Foster’s version of Clarice and not the original, book-canon Clarice. The scene with her exposing herself to him reminds me of the earlier scene where she flashes Krendler. In both instances, I interpreted it as a warped version of empowerment. She's not afraid to reveal herself, she understands her power as a woman, and I don't see this as her character's consistent strength and grit being tossed out the window by Harris.I see it as the opposite, really. She takes power back in a way even though she is still under the influence of hypnosis. I mean, Dr Lecter gets to his knees before her which is terribly symbolic in itself. Remember all the past biblical refences he'd made in regards to her until this point. There's a big three year jump right after this and the next thing we see is Clarice living happily with Lecter and indulging in a fine, high-society life which is very different to her upbringing. A lot of people hated this and I also did at first but then I thought about it a little more. I think the reason it felt so sour at first was only because of how abrupt it was. Again, if Harris had taken more time to explain the intricacies of the relationship and how things had gone between them when Lecter finally stopped giving her the drugs, I think it would've made perfect sense. I imagined it this way: Clarice starling had very few options. It's stated that Hannibal stopped drugging her up pretty swiftly (people seem to miss this fairly important plot point) and once he did that I think Clarice realised how limited she was. She had nothing back home except for Ardelia. John Brigham was dead, Jack Crawford was dead, Paul Krendler was dead. She had nobody to cheer her on, nobody to look up to and nobody to work hard for out of spite. She could've always taken Lecter into custody or killed him but I think she knew that she'd never be able to go back to her normal life. He's been her driving force - a ghost that haunts her - for nearly a decade at this point. Killing him or facilitating his imprisonment would remove him from the equation, and then what would she be left with? That scared her, I imagine. Plus, it was very clear that the FBI had completely abandoned its respect for her. She hadn't been considered as a kidnap victim by them but as a missing person / potential fugitive and rumours of her and Lecter being together romantically had been ruminating in the tabloids long before he took her away. And it was the same for Hannibal: his driving force had always been Mischa up until that point and it had now shifted onto Clarice. He'd be dysfunctional without her. I think a man as obsessive as Hannibal Lecter would've found difficulty in maintaining a sense of purpose with her out of the picture, especially following the events of the novel. I believe Clarice Starling running off with Hannibal Lecter was overwhelmingly in character for her after the cumulative events of the series. If you’d put it at the end of the previous book it would’ve been genuinely absurd, but in this case it really wasn’t all that crazy. It’s just a shame we’d seen the jump from her wanting to arrest Dr Lecter to her becoming his enthusiastic, willing lover so abruptly. If Harris had inserted a sort of bridge section or even just extended the end portion by thirty or fourth pages, it would have made a lot more sense. Opposites attract and they were undoubtedly doubles of each other: unable to exist peacefully or purposefully without the other. That’s where I think a lot of readers went wrong. They spent too much time imagining Clarice and Hannibal as completely separate characters when in reality, they were written for each other. People who say Thomas Harris didn’t understand his own characters seem to forget it took him thirteen something years to construct that book and I think he knew exactly what he was doing. I do have to agree with anyone who says he rushed it or compacted the end too much. Do I think Hannibal and Clarice running off with each other is morally right? No, not at all. It’s all sorts of fucked up for many, many reasons.

Do I love the ending of the book? YES, a thousand times!! It’s horrible and morally wrong and perverse… but this is a horror novel I think it would’ve been so disappointing if Harris had done the boring, predictable thing and had either killed Lecter, killed Clarice or had Clarice capture him and live happy ever after as an agent. There were only two options: either they both died together trying to destroy eachother or they both lived together trying to destroy everyone else, and Harris chose the latter because it was the most morally disturbing and thus fit the overall feel of the book. “We can only learn so much and live.”

This is all just an opinion and interpretation, I might have read it completely wrong but it makes sense to me and l'd rather have a positive outlook on the series than let myself feel dissapointed. Even if the ending sucks in your own estimation, you can't deny it's a really, really good series, with an unending amount of food for thought.

#silence of the lambs #hannibal #hannibal lecter #clarice starling #clannibal #thomas harris #red dragon #book rant #this was longer than i intended lol #it went from a short opinion to a full blown essay

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writingonsaturn · 4 years ago

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Better Unsaid

a/n okay this has been all over the place!! it was originally going to be a blurb and darker and closer to smutty (so keep your eyes out for that??? lol), but then I made it softer and the concept got away from me and it got soooo much longer than expected lmao and i still dont love where it ended so maybe part 2?? i have the idea i just dont know lol

summary: Reader is a princess and Anakin has been her guard during the most public season for the past two years (not the most logical thing but just go with it lol, it gets explained better in the fic) and after a near death experience the two are conveniently forced into a....

ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE *cough cough* ONE BED TROPE WITH ONE PERSON HAVING TO WAKE UP THE OTHER BC THEYRE HAVING A NIGHTMARE,, :)))))))

His smugness is the only thing about him I can consider ‘ugly’. And because I am so desperate to not have feeling for Anakin, the Jedi who has been assigned to protect me through coronation season (which lasts for most of winter), for the last two coronation seasons, I hold onto my distaste for that side of him. Which is why I suppress my laugh as he waits for my reaction with that confident smile.

“Come on, that was funny.”

Rolling my eyes, I let myself sit on my bed. I can’t tell if he’s actually funny or if my evening has been so boring that his sense of humor has started to become appealing to me due to comparison. In short, the suitor I was forced to spend an entire evening with lacked personality so much I’m starting to find Anakin funny.

“You’re much more entertaining than this evening’s suitor.”

Anakin’s expression shifts slightly, his assured grin dropping slightly. “Another miss?”

“You have no idea.” I relax slightly, taking a moment to be glad that I completed my father’s request and now I can just enjoy the time I have with Anakin. “I know my father’s desperate to make sure my marriage is useful for our people and that he worries about this selection process because he always thought my mother would be here to help, but sometimes I wish he wouldn’t rush it so much. It feels like all he wants me for is to marry me off in exchange of finance or weaponry or something diplomatic.”

“You’re more than that.” His response is so soft I think I might have missed it if I needed it less. I curse myself for feeling so validated by him. His words shouldn’t mean anything to me. After all, he could easily just be saying that because agreeing with my father will just make me more unpleasant to be around.

I smile politely while avoiding his eyes. I keep my hands on either side of me, fighting the urge to fidget. “Thank you, Anakin.” My words sound weak in my own ears, so I’m sure he notices my shift in mood. “I’m tired today, I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Normally, I’d be able to shrug off these kinds of things, but the beginning of Coronation Season makes me irritable. The anniversary of my mother’s death hits me harder each year.

“Y/n.” My name comes out so velvety I can’t find it in myself to interrupt him. “You are more than someone meant to be used as some kind of royal currency, and I mean that as more than just a...friend.”

I let his last word linger. We’ve tried so many titles that never seem to fit right. He’s the chosen one, one of the most powerful Jedi to exist, and the Jedi assigned to protect me each Coronation Season because that’s when my mother was assassinated. He’s my guard, but we’ve spent too many nights laughing together and talking about everything and anything. And I guess now he’s my friend, even though sometimes when he looks at me in a certain way or sits too close to me or reaches for my hand to guide me somewhere I can’t breathe right.

“Anakin, you know I love when you’re here, even though sometimes you drive me insane. And I appreciate your kindness, but your words can’t change the truth. That’s how my father sees me and he’s not exactly wrong. I’m not a son, I haven’t been raised to lead an army or lead much, and--”

“I’ve seen you in meeting after meeting, convention after convention. I’ve witnessed the way you handle real problems and I know how you care about your people. You’d make a great leader, you don’t need a husband to be valuable.”

My chest swells, feelings I never let myself think about mixing with thoughts of Anakin that I’ve spent so long trying to avoid. “That settles it, you’re my favorite person.”

He grins, the look warm enough to melt the odd lump in my throat. I fight down a smile as he steps forward. “And I wasn’t before?”

“I take it back--your head’s big enough without the additional praise.”

Rolling my eyes, I lean back slightly in order to recreate the distance he so easily destroyed. “And I thought you had finally warmed up to me, princess.”

The use of my title makes me skeptical. The last time Anakin used it was when he was trying to ease me so that I’d walk around the palace garden so he had an excuse to do the same. It was beyond late and I was half asleep, but he had os much energy he was desperate and just needed to do one more thing. I felt bad that his schedule revolved so heavily around mine (and when he softens his eyes and says please, I’m left incapable of saying the word ‘no’) so I agreed.

“What do you want?”

Anakin dramatically clutches a hand over his heart. He throws his head back slightly as if he’s just taken a fatal blow. “When did you turn so cynical? I’ve been back for three days and I’m starting to believe you’re a different person now.”

Yeah...he’s definitely getting ready to ask for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth. Then again, everything with him seems to be worth it in some capacity. Even if it’s just that one smile he gets when he’s truly content and doesn’t think anyone’s looking.

“Mhm,” I mumble, still fighting a grin, “so you’re not going to ask me anything?”

His lips part slightly as he exhales. I watch the way his eyes narrow at my victorious expression. “I don’t have anything to ask of you, but I do have a small request. A request so small you won’t have to do anything but say yes.”

Suspicious. Too easy. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You just said I was your favorite person. Remember that.”

I’m too tired for his coyness. I’d rather him make his ridiculous request now so that I can be in bed within the hour. Though I can’t pretend I don’t normally feel better after letting him drag me along on whatever ‘adventure’ he just needed to complete while also not letting me out of his sight. I used to tell him that I wouldn’t tell anyone if I wasn’t under supervision for an hour or two a day, but he dismissed the idea immediately. That’s been the cornerstone of everything.

“What is it?”

He sighs once, tilting his head slightly. The way his eyes soften tells me he’s already won at least half the battle. “They still haven’t caught the attempted--” Anakin pauses, something behind his eyes darkening. I know what he’s remembering. Last night, an assassin had gotten closer than they ever had. I had almost been shot in the garden, Anakin had barely pushed me to the ground in time. A fact he’s been beating himself up for since, especially considering that no one has been able to find my attempted killer yet. “They were so close to you. They were within palace limits and they disappeared like they never existed. Who’s to say they don’t work here and are waiting for the next moment you’re exposed? Who’s to say they aren’t here tonight, waiting for me to retire for the night?”

I didn’t realize how my near death experience had been so personal to him. He, like everyone else, was beyond frantic after it happened. But my father put an end to verbal worry before it could truly begin. He said the best thing we could do was act like everything was fine as the assailant was searched for. Anakin hadn’t been particularly cheery after my father instructed the guards to focus their search on known enemies instead of prioritizing venting the staff closest to me. I comforted him as best as I could, but he didn’t feel like speaking about it and I had to worry about the suitor meeting my father wouldn’t let me cancel.

“Anakin, you’re right next door to me.” I have to fight the urge to reach for him. “I was fine because of you, and I will be fine because of you.”

He sighs once, his expression not easing. “And if the person is silent? The attacker could easily work in the palace, but no one wanted to direct the search inwards.” His words are more strained than I’ve ever heard them be. “I think it’d be smart for me to stay in here. I know you’ve refused having a guard stay in your room or outside your door, but...” Anakin sighs. “Your safety would be more assured.”

Him staying in my room? The only line I’ve ever been allowed to draw, and I’m actually considering letting that go. If he seemed even slightly less sad, I wouldn’t even consider it. It’s not a good idea. I’m already too attached to him. “Anakin--”

“I’d feel more assured.”

Damn him. Stupid, extremely sweet Anakin who makes saying no to him impossible. I stretch my arm forward, letting my hand squeezes his forearm gently. “There’s no reason to not feel assured.” He doesn’t ease, the cloudiness behind his eyes remains stubborn. “You’re still worried.” No reaction, the haze that’s taken him isn’t letting go. “Fine--but tell no one or my father is going to take to posting guards at my door every night.”

...I guess there are worse ways to spend a night. Which is kind of a problem since I’m trying to...enjoy Anakin less. Ugh, I even sound dumb in my head. “I promise, princess.”

Ugh, he’s adorable. “You’re intolerable.” I stand from he foot of my bed and pull back the covers on my bed. He doesn’t reply, something dark still playing for him. I watch him move to face the door. Wait--is he doing what I think he’s doing? “No, you’re not going to stand there all night. You need sleep.” He has the audacity to give me an annoyed look. “I already didn’t want to do this so now you have to listen to my conditions.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips pressing together oddly. He’s trying to gauge something from my expression, perhaps he’s looking for buttons to press to get his way. I guess I look as stubborn as I feel because instead of arguing he just sits on the floor. What? I watch him cautiously, trying to figure out if this is some weird argument trick.

“What are you doing?”

“What you asked.”

And just like that I’ve put myself in a position that I will no doubt regret terribly the second common sense returns to me. There’s no way to deny that Anakin and I are closer than we probably should be. We’ve felt like friends first since the day we first met. I can’t think of any reason to not offer to let him sleep in my bed except those stupid budding feelings I refuse to label.

It’s not like I actually like him. I can’t--I’m going to be married to some nobleman and he’s prohibited from ever forming attachments. I’m not even sure if we’re allowed to be friends. Having actual feelings for him would be so, so pointless. It would just lead to heartache and the ruining of the one genuine relationship I have. I’m just a tiny bit confused right now because he’s objectively really attractive and he’s always there for me. Always there to make a joke after a particularly rough meeting. Always there to offer me a supportive smile. Always there to humble me when I teeter on acting like my father.

Anyone’s heart would flutter at that, so it doesn’t mean anything. And if it does, I need to squash any budding feelings now before I mess things up. Which is why I should keep him at arm’s length until I get it together. But is that fair to him? And what if doing that is making things worse? What if it’s just reinforcing the idea of having feelings?

This is ridiculous. I’m going to get over this if it kills me. It’s just a bed and it’s only sleeping. I’m meant to be able to lead an entire union and I can’t sleep next to someone and act normal?” “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

The second the words leave my mouth I regret it all. What’s wrong with me? Did I seriously think I’d be okay?

I hear his soft exhale, “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse places than on your marble floor.”

His voice sounds so weighted I can’t help but feel bad for not noticing that he’s still bothered. Whether he’s upset about his near miss or the fact that my father didn’t take his advice, I don’t know. But something’s wrong. The easy thing to do would be to just let him sleep it off. The smart thing to do would be to leave him alone until tomorrow.

I think of all the times that I’ve been upset and Anakin had refused to let me go to sleep angry or sad or overwhelmed. “I know, but it’s really not a big deal. It’s not like we don’t know each other. I mean, last Coronation Season you buttoned me into more gowns than my handmaid. And I owe you for saving me from one of the worst suitors I’ve ever had.”

“I’m starting to think we need to develop some kind of signal.”

The tiny bit of lightness that’s returned to his voice makes all of my internal struggle feel worth it. “You always seem to know.”

“That’s because when you’re reaching your limit, that one line appears between your eyebrows.”

I didn’t realize I had such a tell. I try to remember the way that the suitor drawled on and on about how amazing he was and how he couldn’t wait for the day he had a bride to bear his children and plan (tedious) social events. My hand moves to my forehead, trying to feel the crease Anakin mentioned. Can everyone tell when I’m growing tired? Am I that transparent?

Anakin’s slight laugh steals my attention. He’s facing me again, his elbow holding his head up on the foot of my bed. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t--I don’t think i get a crease between my eyebrows when I’m irritated.”

I hear him stand. I don’t realize he’s approaching me until he’s so close I could touch him without even needing. to stretch. “No, when you’re irritated you raise your eyebrows slightly, because that’s when you’re at your most sarcastic.”

“Really?”

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “Just like that.” I force myself to keep my expression blank. “When you’re reaching your limit, your eyebrows crease here.” His finger taps the space between my brows so gently I almost don’t realize what he’s doing. “And when you’re trying not to laugh--which is often, because you refuse to admit that I’m funny--you press your lips together in a way that forms a dimple here.” The knuckle of his pointer finger brushes against the bottom of my cheek.

I bite my tongue to fight the warmth spreading across my face. “I didn’t realize i was so transparent.”

“I can’t always tell what you’re thinking.”

“I’ll take it.” Maybe if I was less tired, I’d argue a little more. “You know you’re not that difficult to read either.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I can tell when you’re just being stubborn for the sake of it. I can see it in your eyes and you’re doing it right now.”

His expression harshens slightly before softening. “Y/n--”

“I’m not wrong.”

He sighs once, stepping back. I watch him pace around my bed before taking a seat on the edge of my other side of the bed. “Are you happy now?”

“Happy that I won? Absolutely.”

Anakin halfheartedly glares at me. “Careful, add a crown and a robe that trails down a throne and I’d feel like I was speaking to your father.”

“Careful, another side comment like that and I’ll ‘accidentally’ kick you off the bed in the middle of the night.”

“Not if I kick you off the bed first.”

I trace a thoughtless pattern on the fabric of my bedsheets. “What are you? Twelve?”

“I’m older than you.”

“Barely.” I continue the thoughtless pattern tracing as I fight the sleep from my eyes. “Your comebacks are usually more creative than that.”

He exhales, relaxing slightly as he rests his back against a pillow. “I’m tired, like you claimed to be.” His eyes flutter slightly, a bit of his exhaustion showing. “Go to sleep.”

I should. I’m too old to think I can put off a tomorrow I don’t want by just staying up. This is stupid. I’m too old to think I can put off the anniversary of my mother’s death by going to bed. She had been taken from us on castle grounds, killed by a revolutionist who viewed my mother as a class traitor. I still remember the way she slumped to the ground, her blood staining the snow beneath her. I remember the way the guards were so busy chasing her killer no one thought to keep me away from the body.

“Y/n?”

I scratch the back of my arm in hopes of banishing my thoughts. “Yes?”

“You’re being quiet.”

“You said to go to sleep, that tends to be a quiet thing.”

I can feel his eyes on me. “Since when do you listen to me?” Not trusting myself to actually reply, I only offer him a hum of acknowledgement. “I know you’re not half asleep.”

Folding my hands on my lap, I avoid his gaze. “It’s tomorrow.”

I don’t know why I trust him to understand my vague response, but I do. His silence stretches over us like a thin blanket on a cold night. Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m implying. I can always correct him tomorrow, when my eyelids are no longer as heavy as my heart. The more seconds that pass in total silence, the more I think that maybe he’s fallen asleep.

I wouldn’t be surprised, Anakin has seemed tired recently, like some additional weight he won’t share with anyone has been thrust onto his shoulders. A small part of me rolls in guilt. I need to be a better friend, just because I’m suddenly a little too aware of him doesn’t mean I can shrug him off and ignore him.

My hand almost flinches away from the feeling of something surprisingly warm touching my pinky. When I realize that it’s just Anakin and that the contact was probably accidental, I force myself to ease. It’s not like we’ve never touched before, I don’t understand why I’m making it weird. Sitting in my bed in the dark doesn’t change anything. His hand turns slightly, pressing into mine a little more assuredly. Biting my tongue, I turn my hand slightly, exposing my palm. And just like that, our fingers intertwine.

“She would have been proud of you.” His voice comes out so low I barely register the words.

The words shouldn’t mean much to me--he never knew my mother and has no way to know what she wanted me to be.--and yet I find comfort in them. I smile, turning my head towards him. “You didn’t even know her.”

He rolls his eyes slightly, relaxing further before squeezing my hand once. “Who wouldn’t be proud of you? You’re kind and smart and decent to be around when you’re not telling me what to do.”

My heart swells in my chest so much I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. Could he be cuter? “Yeah...now I’m sure you’re my favorite person.”

“Now you’re sure?”

The smugness in his voice has me rolling my eyes. “Don’t make me regret saying that.”

“Maybe in the morning,” he says easily, “now go to sleep. There’s nothing worse than escorting you from meeting to meeting while you’re tired.”

“I’m not that bad.” Even in this darkness, I can make out the way he raises an eyebrow. “Shut up--I’m going to sleep, but not because of you.”

He lets out a slight huff. “You’re impossible.”

The desire to respond to his comment is not enough for me to win the fight against the weight of my eyelids. The moment my eyes shut, I feel powerless to anything that isn’t sleep. I let myself fall into a weightless sleep, my only tether being the Anakin’s fingers around mine.

A distant noise yanks me from my sleep. I’m too drowsy to do anything but register the sound. I hear another similar...whine? cry? I can’t tell and I’m too asleep to figure it out. I almost fall asleep again, but a third distressed sound keeps me from it. I wipe my eyes lazily with the back of my hand as I try to sit up.

Squinting, I make out a figure on my bed. It takes me a moment to remember Anakin and how I fell asleep. Our hands are still together and no light is peering through my window so it can’t be that long since I fell asleep. Another disgruntled sound carries itself throughout the room. I shift slightly, leaning over Anakin cautiously.

Golden brown curls are beginning to stick to his forehead and his eyebrows are drawn together sharply. He’s having a nightmare. I shift even further forward before cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder before squeezing him gently.

“Anakin,” I whisper, “it’s not--it’s not real.” His eyebrows draw together even more harshly. I shake him a little more stubbornly. “Anakin, wake up--you’re having a ni--”

My forearm is grabbed so suddenly I barely register it before I feel my back shoved into my mattress. I blink twice. His dark eyes are frantic and the look on his face is far from the gentle, easygoing expression I’m used to. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling from above me. I swallow a slight panic and something I don’t understand as I try to keep my eyes on his face and my thoughts away from how close he is. Anakin pries his fingers from my forearm one by one until only his palm is touching me.

“Y/n, I--”

“It’s okay.” Honestly, I’m more worried about his uneven breathing than the way he grabbed me. I can’t imagine everything he’s been through or how justified his nightmares are. Anakin moves his hand away from me. I don’t sit up until he’s off of me and sitting with his back against my headboard. “It’s okay--I just--you were having a nightmare and I thought I should wake you.” He doesn’t react. I turn my body further, keeping my back straight. Anakin doesn’t move, and the longer he stays still, the more I feel like I should say something else. “Do you want talk about it? Or do--do you want to talk about something else? Or go to sleep? Or get some water? Or--” The far off look behind his eyes silences me. I scoot forward slightly. “You’re okay, Anakin, I promise.”

His head turns at that, his eyes searching mine for something I don’t understand. “I thought...” He cuts himself off by swallowing once.

I shift a little more, trying to find anything normal in his expression. “Thought what?”

Anakin’s hand is on my arm so quickly I don’t even register his movement. I let his fingers press into my skin. He’s holding onto me like I’m a figment of a dream and he’s beginning to wake up. “I thought I’d failed.” He exhales, the sound heavy. “Failed you and that you’d--I thought I had lost you.”

A lump rises in my throat, thick and unmoving. Cautiously, I place my hand over the one still gripping my shoulder like a lifeline. “You didn’t. Nothing happened, it was just a dream.”

His gaze falls to the ground before he repeats the last of my words. “Just a dream.” There’s a hollowness to his voice I don’t understand.

I exhale, carefully running my thumb over his knuckles. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything but his expression hardens again. I let us sit there like that for a long minute. “I promise.”

“You can’t promise things like that.”

I sigh, unsure of where to go from here. “Bad dreams are only bad dreams.” He doesn’t reply. “I think you should try to get some more sleep.”

Anakin is unresponsive. I shift back, but before I can transition from almost being on top of him to just sitting next to him, he pulls on my arm to keep in place. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“You almost died today, y/n. I was right there and if I had been a second later--”

“But you weren’t.” He doesn’t ease. “You were there and I was fine. Don’t torment yourself over what could have been. You’ll drive yourself crazy.”

“If anything ever happened to y--”

“It’s not going to,” I whisper, ignoring the way his hold on my arm tightens even further, “Especially this time a year when I have a pretty good gau--”

He tilts his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together and a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Pretty good? Really?”

“Someone needs to watch your ego, chosen one.” This time when he tries for a smile, the look has some strength behind it. Relief pools in my stomach. “Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s a busy day and when you’re sleepy you’re beyond irritable.”

Anakin lets me pull away enough to lay down, but he doesn’t follow. Not for a long second. When he does, his movements are impossibly rigid. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as carefully as I can manage.

“Y/n?”

I regret turning my head immediately. I didn’t realize how close he was. It would take no effort from me to make our lips meet. Wait--why am I thinking of that? I’m not allowed to think of stuff like that...especially not about him.

“Yes?”

He lets out a breath before moving his hand. I don’t understand his hesitation until I feel his hand cupping my cheek gently. “What if next time I’m not enough? What if next time I lose you because I’m not strong enough?”

I never thought my death would be such a personal thing to him. Sure, I knew that we had some kind of bond, some kind of friendship, and that my death would bring sadness. But I never imagined I’d matter enough to him that thoughts of my death would be frightening enough to slip into his subconscious and become a thing of nightmares.

“You are enough. Nothing is going to happen to me and if it does it’s not going to be because of you.” Anakin’s lips press together in a way that implies serious uncertainty. His thumb brushes across my cheek so unexpectedly I almost ask him what he’s doing. The intensity behind his eyes is enough to burn me. “Was your dream really that bad?”

He lets out an uncertain breath as his eyebrows draw together. I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. “It’s more than the dream. I...y/n, princess,” he tacts on, a hint of humor returning to him, “you’re more than a mission to me.”

The admission is so soft I can’t help but smile. “I know, Anakin, we’re--”

“You’re more than a friend to me.” I don’t know if my blood freezes in my veins or if my lungs don’t contract when they should or if my heart literally skips a beat, but I know something in me completely stops at his words. “I--”

“Don’t say it.” I don’t know how I managed to cut him off so sharply and I’m a little disappointed when I do, but it’s the right thing to do. Thought of the code that’s so important to him have clouded half the immense shock and joy swelling in my chest. “What you’re trying to say...I um, I want to say the same.” I try to drop my gaze but he tilts my head up slightly with his hand. “But we shouldn’t, you know that.”

"You want to us to pretend that nothing’s different? You want me to escort you from meetings with one suitor to the next every Coronation Season until you’re married off?”

“No, I’m not saying that. The point is that I’m not saying anything.” His eyebrows draw together in uncertainty. “Isn’t it enough for now, for both of us to just know? If we say it...that could mean bad things for you. And I don’t want to be a bad thing for you.”

“You could never be.”

It’d be so easy to believe him. To believe him and to let him say what I never imagined I’d be able to hear and damn the consequences of tomorrow. “Can we just refrain from verbally saying anything until you’re sure?”

“I’m sure right now. I’ve been sure since the first time we ever walked in the garden together. The night after the first Coronation Ball I escorted you to.”

I remember that night well. The way he hadn’t scolded me for needing air or taking off my uncomfortably high heels to walk in the grass. “If you mean it, you won’t say it yet. I refuse to get in the way of what you’re meant for.”

His thumb runs my cheek entirely, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Are you capable of not disagreeing with me?”

Rolling my eyes slightly, I place my hand over his. “Probably not.”

Anakin exhales, his playful irritation clear in the sound. “You’re impossible when you’re tired.”

“I am not tired.”

“I can see the sleep in your eyes.”

“I can see it in yours too.”

He pauses, eyebrows drawn together cautiously. “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

He must be more tired than I thought if he’s compromising with me so quickly. “Deal.”

Neither of us close our eyes for a long second, we just watch each other with wide eyes. It still doesn’t feel like he’s eased, but he’s come back to me so much more than he was earlier. I’ll make sure to check how he’s feeling in the morning. The first morning after we’ve...I don’t know.

I’m trying really hard not to get excited because anything that’s been not said could be taken back so easily. That’s the point--but it’s hard not to let my heart get ahead of my rationality. I’ll just take the good for what it is for now and tomorrow we can figure out the rest. Even though he’s not allowed to form attachments and my father really wants to marry me off to foreign royalty.

Tomorrow. This can begin to be solved tomorrow. My eyes shut and I let myself roll fully onto my back. The second I’m comfortably settled, I feel Anakin shift against the bed. I’m too tired to open my eyes until I feel a weight placed against my chest.

I open my eyes on instinct, less surprised than I should be when I see Anakin’s head resting against my chest. Before I can speak, I feel his arm rest against my side. “Anakin,” I breathe, my hand moving to smooth his hair out of his face the way I’ve wanted to for so long. “What did we just talk about?”

“You said not to say anything,” he mumbles comfortably, “I’m not saying anything.” ...It is kind of the ideal compromise. Especially since I’m too tired to find reason and he feels so warm. “I can feel you overthinking. Go back to smoothing my hair before I have to rise and stand at your door so that your handmaid comes to wake you. Something tells me she’d be glad for the excuse to get rid of me.”

That might be the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard him say. Selma is the most patient woman in the palace. “Selma would never report anything involving me, I can’t believe you don’t like her. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”

“She’s the one that doesn’t like me,” he says, “she always watches me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m planning on stealing you away.”

Too tired to fight my smile, I go back to smoothing his hair out with my fingers. After a moment, he lets out an exhale that relaxes his entire body. “Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight.” The word is barely a mumble as I feel sleep tug against me for the second time tonight.

It’s strange, but my excitement doesn’t diminish my tiredness, it just makes the prospect of rest feel so much fuller. Safer. Because there’s so much to sort out and grieve but it’s okay, because we have the time and everything feels okay because Anakin is here, right beneath my fingertips.

#anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars fic

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potteresque-ire · 4 years ago

Text

Commentary ~ Little Red Little Green Episode 18, “Fruits & Found Family”

Link to original post in Chinese, posted 2021/05/23. Link to official English translation.

(Disclaimer / Notes + Commentary under the cut!) (TW: possible eating disorder)

Disclaimer / Notes:

While the posts by Little Red Little Green (LRLG) are among my most favourite candies, I’d like to remind everyone that they are fake rumours, and should be read and enjoyed as such. ie, all CPN below!

The English translation linked above is the only one authorised by the Fake Rumour House; therefore, please treat all content below as a very casual, very *unofficial* convo between fellow turtle friends! ❤️💛💚

With Chinese being a highly region-specific language, my reactions to it is necessarily filtered through my background, which is, admittedly, somewhat removed from Gg’s, Dd’s and LRLG’s. However, it is not uncommon for even c-turtles (and several times, LRLG themselves) to be lost with what they read / heard due to regional differences ~ which reflects the reality of communicating in the Sinosphere. In fact, the regionality of the dialects used by different “characters” in LRLG’s dialogues is among the most critical elements that make these posts so authentic-sounding, and so difficult to replicate. A fun activity of following LRLG is to watch c-turtles patch their regional knowledge together, from local slangs to food choices, to make sense of what’s going on.

Okay, with that all said *phew* ... onto the commentary! “p. X” refers to the panel number in the official English translation (there are 7 total in the Twitter post).

p1. “Fairy”

Likely referring to the similarity between Gg’s current role for 玉骨遥 (The Longest Promise) and LWJ. Dd was praising Gg for being “fairy-like”; Chinese “fairies” (仙) have a certain style especially in visual media, similar to ... LWJ’s ~ otherworldly, white robes that billow in the wind, peaceful to the point of distant, scholarly, delicate. In between the lines, Gg likely said he was simply playing LWJ (hence, the ”act another me” in the translation), which Dd protested... and said Gg was simply playing himself. Whether that means DD IS NOT LWJ!!!!! 😡😡😡 or something else, we’ll know what we get to watch the show!

p1-p2. “Heat”

Yes about the Chang’e 嫦娥 reference!! Despite Houyi 后羿 shooting down 9/10 suns and saving the day, his wife is, indeed, more famous (and therefore the star, the more powerful one), because she’s frequently featured in Mid-Autumn festival art, along with her pet rabbit 玉兔 (”Jade Rabbit”),:

(Chang’e with her bunny, traditional Chinese painting. Source.)

Below is Gg’s rendition of Chang’e / Jade Bunny pair ~ Chang’e being the superman in the drawing while Jade Bunny is crouching on the planet!!

Guess of the missing convo from Gg’s side: Gg had wanted to bring something to Hengdian (where the filming of The Longest Promise was taking place) to cool himself down, and Dd had said it wasn’t necessarily. Hence Dd’s “My bad my bad” and the promise to send that something to Gg.

The loveliest line in this segment for me—and for many c-turtles— is the one about white hair. Turning grey a common, but very old-fashioned way of expressing worry and poor Dd, who hasn’t even turned 24, is claiming he was turning white because he got so worried every time Gg complained about the heat (Aww).

Turning grey with worry isn’t limited to romantic situations — it may happen to doting parents with wayward children, for example, or to ancient patriots over their crumbling kingdom. However, it’s also one of the more (very!) dramatic ways to communicate tragic love in Chinese fiction before Western influence allows “love”, as a term / word / character, to be used explicitly in writing romance.

Here’s a little example, a little diversion that may be of interest. Those who are familiar with the Wuxia classic Return of the Condor Heroes 神雕俠侶 by Jin Yong 金庸, whether it’s the book or its numerous visual adaptations, may remember how the hero, Yang Guo 楊過, went white at his temples overnight after his Shifu and lover, Xiao Long Nv (小龍女), didn’t show up at the cliff at the end of his 16-year wait for her.

Set photo from a TV adaption of Return of the Condor Heroes, 1995. Turtles may find the actress playing the perenially white-wearing, calm-to-the point-of-aloof Xiao Long Nv, Carmen Li 李若彤, familiar ~ she also played Lan Yi in The Untamed.

The 16-year wait, the invitation to Carmen to play Lan Zhan’s ancestor (when the two shared similarities in aesthetics and personality), were two of the three references from Return of the Condor Heroes I picked up from The Untamed (the last one was more specific—WWX mentioned Yang Guo’s master 獨孤求敗). This tribute is unconfirmed, but MXTX did say before that Jin Yong’s works were her inspiration. I also read a (small) discussion on whether LWJ’s hair carried a few pieces of white in the final episode, or if the lighter strands in it were a trick of the sunlight. (Here’s a screenshot of the approximate place to look!!)

While I lean towards the latter (the sunlight), turning white with worry, with love, is a tradition in Chinese storytelling. Here’s a little something I’ve noticed too, on this note ~ both in the actual interviews and in these fake rumours, Dd’s word choices, the way he conveys emotions are sometimes surprisingly traditional. It can be because of his background (which would require a study of how Luo Yang people and Koreans talk); it can be because the traditional way of talking allows for fewer words to be said, fewer things to have to be explicitly explained (example: LWJ), but the effect is that Dd has supplied the most romantic lines in LRLG’s posts because of that ~ romantic because it harks back to the rhythm, the themes of old poetry, of ancient stories that, as were true everywhere in the world, were about love.

Okay, back to the rumour (and hoping Dd won’t look like Bad Wig Yang Guo in a few more summers!) ....

The line after the one about white hair ... the way I understand the original Chinese sentence is “Heat is The Reason”: ie, anything Dd wants Gg to do and Gg disagrees, Gg would use heat as The Reason (R) to not do it. This anything may be eating, for example, which also has a strong possibility as conventional Chinese wisdom says that heat causes people to lose appetite. Dd’s worry would therefore be: Gg refusing to eat because he claims it’s too hot to do so.

“Corny joke” ~ the Chinese for this is, literally, “cold 冷 joke 笑話”, which becomes a pun as the gzry (team members)’s joke was about the (cold) winter and black hair. So... Dd threw a corny joke to combat a corny joke :D .

p3. “Apple”

The first half I also had to rely on c-turtles to help me interpret what it meant! Regional dialects aside, LRLG has captured dls’s very quick wit, the way his ideas freely hop from one concept to the next and this hopping carries traditional + popular cultural references that I know only a fraction of, not being a local after all.

I’ve read an additional interpretation of this segment: “big fruit” 大果兒 (as in dls: “Those are all big fruits, all big fruits”) is a Northern Chinese, traditional slang for women—dls might have connected that with the previous line in the convo about being Guowang, as explained in the translation, and “big and juicy” + “touch to feel” being suggestive phrases. Then, given the rare usage of the big fruit = women slang, dls expressed surprise that Dd understood what he meant, went on to say he expected Gg to know it (implying Gg could’ve taught Dd the meaning) ...

Which led to the entertaining part of this segment. Dd was like “You guys (= Gg + dls) talked?” Dls appeared to have thought of the scenario customarily inviting this question (scenario: someone on the verge of catching their spouse cheating) and began playacting that scenario, started to stammer ... as if he had just been got caught trying to chat up someone’s spouse ~ ”I-I-I....how to say it ...”. Dd caught on dls’s playacting and went along, continued with the “accusation”: “You’re stammering”. Dls then noted that Dd’s accusation was scary and Dd smiled, ending the playact ~ so, ah, readers, never mess with Dd’s spouse!! Dd gets scary!!

(BTW: ”nijia na kouzi” 你家那口子 was explained in the translation for a reason ~ It’s a warm, friendly term for a dear friend’s spouse. 😊)

p4. Lychees

Lychees. Has everyone tried them? It’s important not to over-eat them though...

In which the “Feeding Gg” saga continues! This segment is one of those that are wonderful for fic writers who wish to capture Gg and Dd in words. Gg, like many brought up in traditional families, has trouble saying “no” outright, which is often considered rude. As such, he resorted to delay tactics, something he had also done with the fried noodles in The Makeup Room BTS.

In the BTS, his delay tactics had been to argue that Dd hadn’t eaten his box of noodles and therefore, he couldn’t start (~2:35 mark)—as proper manners indeed dictated. In this dialogue, his delay tactics was to say he’d eat the lychees later, that the lychees would make him too full for the proper meal (rice).

A cute thing about this convo is that rather than pouting and grumbling his only being LWJ’s replacement (as he had hilariously done in the BTS), Dd had, apparently over the last three years, become an expert on countering such delay tactics. He peeled the lychees, which not only removed a major obstacle for eating, but also set a timer as peeled lychees get dry quickly (and Gg, despite being a picky eater, didn’t seem to like to waste food). He said the fruit could make appetiser. He got the help of their team members, who assured Gg that two lychees would be all right.

Gg’s response to the assurance... takes a little time to explain.

The original Chinese line for “Great, great, you’re so awesome” was 絕了絕了你們絕了。 “絕了”, a popular phrase used by Chinese netizens, was repeated three times.

絕, literally, means the extreme, the absolute, the end. 絕了 means pretty much the same ~ a thing that is 絕了 is standing en pointe at the edge of the cliff that is The Absolute End of a spectrum. It is the Ultimate. It can't be surpassed. It’s unbeatable.

絕了 is usually used in a positive sense, as in the English translation, with the positive being implied. If I say the LWJ photo above is 絕了, for example, I don’t need to specify that the extreme in 絕 stands on the good end. It’s understood given the audience of this post are mostly turtles (HELLO *waves*). We’re all heart-eyes here. We agree, without saying, that this photo is The Top, The Pinnacle; it can’t be better. 絕了 is higher praise than Excellent; it’s so good that there are no adjectives for it. Its own presence defines How Good It Is.

But 絕了 doesn’t have to be positive. If my audience is Su She ... he’s likely to take the same “This LWJ photo is 絕了” to mean the Mariana Trench kind of Absolute—the bottom of the bottom, the Unbeatable, Adjective-Defying Worst.

絕了 allows for that understanding too.

In this scenario, I interpret Gg’s 絕了 as taking the meaning of both extremes (which make it a fantastic phrase choice!): that Gg thought Dd and the team members were being both the Absolute Best (for thinking of Gg, caring for him) AND the Absolute Worst (for going against his wish to not eat!) Gg’s 絕了 also signals defeat; if Dd and his team members were The Absolute ... Whatever, then poor Gg had no choice but to yield to their wishes. I can already imagine his “I can’t believe I lose this way” Look (see: every rock-paper-scissors he lost, which was ... pretty much all of them), mixed with, perhaps, a healthy amount of bunny tooth warning (how dare Dd et al banded up against him)...

Those bunny teeth had to be taken care of, right? And so Dd went on to say lychees being good omen that ensure things would go smoothly for the eater... targeting Gg’s being a, as c-turtles call it, 小迷信 (literally, “Little Superstitious”, a young + adorable + superstitious person). Dd said that to help Gg justify the choice to eat, to make Gg feel better about his defeat.

(Of note: I had actually never heard of lychees being associated with good luck before, and a quick search online also didn’t yield any result. This could be a relatively rare association Google failed to catch ... or something Dd made up on the fly to make Gg happy.)

(Lychees have, however, been associated with romance. If Emperor’s Smile 天子笑 was The Love Drink in The Untamed, then what is Concubine’s Smile 妃子笑? Answer: it’s the RL name of a type of lychees, lychees being the fruit very much adored by Yang Yuhuan 楊玉環, the consort of the Emperor Xuanzong (685-762 BCE) of the Tang Dynasty and one of the four most beautiful woman in Chinese history. Since lychees had only been grown in southern China, the emperor had had the fruit couriered, in express mode involving many horses, to the palace up north to please his favourite wife. Lychees had become a symbol of love from that historical tale.)

Did Gg get Dd’s message then, the love and care packaged in those peeled, sweet fruit awaiting his bite? Yes, but not without a little more fight! “Eat eat eat, (I’ll eat) until you go bankrupt” is a literal translation of his final line. Tonally, I can see the following as being an alternative translation:

“Fine fine fine. I’ll eat, it’s not like I can bankrupt you by eating anyway!”

If it sounded a little sulky, that’s because it did ... a little sulky AND fiery. As expected from our favourite Chongqing Big Pepper 😂😂😂 (Poor Gg).

Dd smiled at that, needless to say. He won!!! He got Gg to eat!! The world shall rejoice!!

p5. “Showtime”

There’s a show coming up for Dd (the YH concert maybe?), and Gg offered suggestions.

The sweet point of this segment is about half-way down the conversation, in the piece of paper 📄 Gg gave to Dd (after “This is for you.”). Dd took the paper, noted the many words on it, and started saying 我把我整個靈魂, translated as “I bring my entire soul”.

c-Turtles have, based on these words, hypothesised that Dd was about to read out a quote that Gg had written on the paper, with the list of items Gg thought Dd should take, before Gg stopped him with a call of his name (“WYB”). The quote was included on the translation (”I give you my entire soul...only, a little good, love you.”) I have also talked about the same quote, in more detail, here.

I’m equally stumped on the final line of this segment. (Sorry!!)

p6. “Found Family”

It’s a heartwarming segment. While LRLG had previously noted that the TTXS bros had communicated with Gg, this segment made clear that they care for him like they do for Dd ~ as family.

* dls mailed Gg a lot of fruit for sharing with the film crew. “Family member needs to be impressive” is a rough translation, but this line does defy simple translation because 排面 a highly cultural concept that has much to do with the equally complex, Chinese concept of face (which this article explains... somewhat adequately). The message to take home is that dls cared enough about Gg that he wanted to make sure Gg wouldn’t lose face in front of the film crew; that, by having enough gifts (fruits) for everyone, Gg wouldn’t be viewed as cheap or inadequate or stingy, or whatever adjective that wouldn’t befit his top idol status. Because dls saw Gg as a member of his family.

* The prescription from hg had been mentioned in a previous LRLG rumour. 方�� is a Chinese medicine prescription, which, unlike Western formulations, is individualised both to the discomfort / ailment and to the “body constitution” of the person who'll take it, the latter deciding the kind of ailments the person is susceptible to, and which ingredients are expected to be more effective. Chinese medicine also places a strong emphasises on long-term conditioning, whether it’s for recovery from a certain condition or for general good health. A good 方子 is therefore a far more complex and personal thing than, say, a scribble of “paracetamol” / “acetaminophen” on a piece of paper. :D

* fg’s gift for Gg (xx) is something for the waist. A brace support, maybe? For example?

My favourite line in this segment is when hg asked what will Gg and Dd do when they reach hg’s age. Given that the last two items (the prescription and xx) were health-related, I interpreted it as hg worrying about Gg and Dd’s health when they grow old... with all the health problems they already have. It’s the kind of thing a worried parent say to their children ~ my mom has said the same thing to me as well. 😢

p6. “The Cat Paw”

Not quite sure what’s happening here ... not sure what the cat paw is. (Sorry!!) But that é in the translation is Dd’s signature laugh (collection here), which is written as 鵝 (”Goose”) in Chinese 😂.

p7. “The Cat Toy”

Dd appeared to be shopping for a cat’s toy (something that can “hook the cat” in the translation, such that the cat can entertain itself and not rely on human companionship as much). Gg had already bought the toy though and sounded quite proud of it, told Dd to return the toy. The implied cat was, of course, Nut (堅果 Jianguo)... which had been repeatedly referred to in LRLG’s posts as Gg’s daughter.

p7. “Cool vs Cute”

Gg is often viewed as cute, and Dd as cool. Did Dd dislike Gg taking cute pictures for public consumption? Were they scheming an exchange of image? :D

And that’s it for this issue! Ooh, this took unexpectedly long ... I apologise for the ridiculous delay between the original post and this commentary!

(I wrote half of it, then RL struck and I forgot about it.) (I’m hopeless.) (I need a 方子 for poor memory!!)

#pie eats candies #pie metas #yizhan #bjyx #LRLG

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lazywonderlvnd · 5 years ago

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Hi, if you are still taking prompts; A magically powerful Harry not noticing that his magic does things to make Draco happy. This can be pre-relationship or established relationship. Like it starts of with his tea being exactly as he likes and always the right temperature. Then evolves to rooms changing colour or weather changing or people being unable to invade Draco’s personal space due to an invisible barrier or something ridiculous. Btw Draco doesn’t notice as well.

anon.....you really killed me w this one. i’ve been so emo over this wyugeahrwiw might end up writing smth longer tbh bc this concept is literally the only thing that matters to me!!!!!!! i hope u enjoy i had so much fun with it ❤️❤️❤️

“Harry, you do it. Please.”

“No.”

“Please!”

“We’re fucking watching something, Draco!”

“So just pause it!”

Harry grabs the pillow on his lap and slams it onto the sofa next to him. Hermione can see dust rise in its wake. He pauses the telly.

“Are you doing it?” Draco asks hopefully. Harry scowls at him.

“Well you won’t shut up until I do, will you?”

“Definitely not.”

Harry disappears into the kitchen and Draco sits there looking smug.

“It’s kind of sick how you get off on bossing him around,” says Ron, his tone one of simple observation. His fingers are idly playing with Hermione’s hair, but she doesn’t think he notices he’s doing it.

“If I’m not mean to him a few times a week I break out in a rash, Weasley,” Draco says blithely. “Besides, he makes it perfectly. I don’t know how he does it, it’s always exactly the right temperature and sweetness and all that. I s’pose his years as a house-elf for those Muggles gave him plenty of time to perfect the art.”

“You’re a twat,” says Ron. “And my mum makes tea better than him.”

“Well you’re just a pitiful little mummy’s boy, aren’t you, Weasley? We can hardly trust your opinion.”

“Hark who the hell’s talking,” Ron scoffs. “Least I’m not twenty-three and still calling my mum ‘mummy’ like the world’s biggest bloody ponce.”

Draco splutters but before he can retort Harry’s coming back into the room hovering four cups of tea that float placidly to each of them. Draco looks exactly like a satisfied cat as he takes his and Harry drops back down onto the sofa next to him. Not too close, but certainly not too far, either.

“Literally exquisite,” Draco declares after he’s taken a sip. Ron rolls his eyes.

“It’s just tea, Draco,” says Harry, and he grabs for the remote to turn the film back on. “You’re such a demanding little brat. Merlin’s fucking tits.”

But Draco looks happy and Harry looks suspiciously content as well. Ron turns to her and makes a silent gagging face. Hermione snorts and puts a finger to her lips. They’ve decided not to say anything yet.

“Wasn’t this place a lot … uglier last time?”

“What?” Harry says absently. He’s not listening — he’s got all his attention zeroed in on a stack of parchment he’s holding. They’d only barely dragged him along to lunch; earlier the captain of the English National Team had apparently owled him a great number of brand-new Quidditch plays and required Harry’s extensive thoughts and notes before their next practise, which was tomorrow morning.

“Uglier,” Draco says emphatically, and Ron mutters something she doesn’t catch. “Remember? The walls were that tragic egg-yolk colour.” He shivers. Hermione thinks it might have been an honest-to-god shiver of revulsion. She also thinks she knows what’s happened, even though the extent of it surprises her.

“Maybe someone heard you whingeing and changed it,” Ron apparently can’t stop himself from saying with a snigger. Hermione elbows him hard and he shoots her a glare, mouthing, he doesn’t know!

Harry would usually be the one to take the lead and get them a table when all four of them go out to eat together but today he’s too wrapped up in his Quidditch plays, so Ron steps forward and does it, which makes Hermione’s chest flutter pleasantly. He’d blush down to his bones if she ever said it aloud but he’s quite capable of being a leader in Harry’s absences.

“Whatever happened,” says Draco pointedly as they’re led to their table, “it’s a great bloody blessing, I was genuinely unsure I’d have the mental fortitude to survive another assault like that on my delicate senses. And, I mean, this —” he gestures to the walls, which are now an admittedly pleasing dark teal above a white trim “— is stunning. It’s my favourite colour.”

“Is it? So weird they picked your favourite colour completely by coincidence,” Ron says, and Hermione elbows him again. Draco notices nothing and neither does Harry, although he does finally set the plays aside once they’re seated at the table.

“Are you complaining about the wall colour again?” he asks drily. They would both be extremely displeased to know they sound like an old married couple. Draco snatches haughtily at the paper napkin on the table and unfolds it to place over his lap. The first time he’d ever done this at a regular, decidedly not upscale restaurant Ron had taken it upon himself to spend the entire meal adopting a posh accent to match Draco’s and saying things to the waiter like “Don’t you have crystal?” while holding up a glass cup full of Pepsi and then commenting “These aren’t real silver, you know” after making a show of inspecting the titanium utensils.

“I can complain about hideous design choices if I want to,” Draco tells Harry with his nose in the air. “Thankfully they’ve rectified it this time.”

On the other side of the restaurant, Hermione sees two employees talking, one of them gesturing at the wall with utter bewilderment. She doesn’t point it out.

“Twelve o’clock,” says Ron, nodding past Draco’s shoulder. “Some bloke staring you down hard, Malfoy.”

Draco looks excitedly behind him, but what Hermione takes more notice of is the way Harry’s face falls a little. She can’t help but wonder if he even realises it’s happened. She’s almost certain he’s aware of his feelings for Draco even though he still hasn’t said anything to her (and she’s been waiting months now, the effort of holding her tongue growing only more difficult by the day, and she knows Ron’s always seconds away from shouting at him) but she doesn’t think he knows how obvious he is. Draco doesn’t seem to know either, but she thinks that’s because Draco feels exactly the same way. She’d have called them morons, but she remembers too well how long it had taken her and Ron.

“What the fuck, Weasley,” Draco hisses, turning back around with a scowl that makes Ron laugh and Harry perk up again a little bit. “He looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in weeks.”

“Now, now,” says Ron, “mustn’t judge books by their greasy covers.”

“Then you go shag him if you think he’s so fit.”

“Maybe I will,” Ron says airily, as if he really is considering it, and Hermione can’t help chuckling and kissing his cheek. Then his expression changes to one of wicked amusement, which makes all of them look round to see the bloke coming their way. Hermione glances at Harry to find that — oh yes, he looks flustered and vaguely upset.

“Hullo,” says the greasy bloke to Draco as he comes up beside him at their table. He’s really not terrible-looking, but if she’s learned anything about Draco in the last couple years it’s that his standards amount to models and Harry Potter, so this man has almost no chance.

“Hello,” Draco drawls, reminding her fiercely of his younger self at Hogwarts. “I’m not interested.”

“Right little narcissistic bugger, aren’t you?” the man says. And now, finally, he’s begun to look as revolting to Hermione as he’d done initially to Draco — a repellent personality can do that. “Maybe I just wanted to come and have a chat.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at any of the rest of us?” Ron asks, sounding halfway between amused still and a little put off.

“Can you leave, please?” Draco interjects, cringing away from the man encroaching slowly on his personal space. And suddenly, as he looks on the verge of antagonising Draco further, he shifts his feet and slips, landing right on his bum with a yell of surprise. All four of them get to their feet to see, but there doesn’t seem to be any liquid or even slimy food for him to have tripped on.

“The fuck ...?” the man says, getting back to his feet. But when he moved towards Draco, he only slips again, on absolutely nothing at all. Something clicks and Hermione looks at Harry: he seems as confused as anyone else (if obviously pleased).

She looks at Ron then, who catches her eye and lifts his brows like he’s thinking the same thing.

Draco’s suitor gets up once more and steadies himself, looking a bit dazed. Some deep animal instinct seems to tell him to stop trying, and with a wary glance at Draco he finally leaves.

“Well that was a bit of a fucking scene,” says Harry. Draco, coming out of his own startled daze, laughs.

“Yeah,” Ron says sarcastically, “wonder what could’ve possibly happened.”

“I really thought it was going to rain,” Draco mopes where he’s standing at the window. It’s grey outside but it definitely doesn’t look like rain and Draco appears so upset about it that Hermione actually feels badly, even though she’s quite glad for the clear weather.

“Just shut the curtains,” Ron suggests from his place on the floor. He’s sorting through Harry’s collection of VHS tapes, trying to decide on a good Halloween movie. Not that he’s ever seen any of them, and Hermione suspects he’ll end up choosing whichever cover he likes best.

“It’s not the same!” Draco wails. “The thunder and lightning is all part of it, you uncultured pillock! The atmosphere is all wrong.”

“It’ll be just as good when we shut off all the lights and draw the curtains,” she assures him, but it doesn’t remove the look of disappointment from his face. It’s a pouty sort of thing that echoes the brattiness of his youth; she imagines a five-or-six-year-old Draco giving his parents similar looks when he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

At that moment the front door opens and Harry walks in carrying two grocery bags, one of which contains alcohol, which Hermione can tell by the way the plastic is bulging around the cans.

“The fuck are you all doing here?” he says by way of greeting.

“You said eight o’clock, fuckhead,” Ron tells him without looking up. “But it’s fine, I’ve had time to pick a film and Malfoy’s had time to moan about the weather.”

“What’s wrong with the weather?”

“I wanted a storm!”

At that exact moment, a flash of lightning lights up the sky behind Harry where he hasn’t even closed the door yet. Seconds later a downpour begins, and then there’s a rolling crash of thunder.

Hermione’s eyes widen and once more she finds Ron’s gaze, who looks about as shocked as she feels. Draco, meanwhile, has his hands over his mouth and looks like a child on Christmas morning.

For the first time since his magic had begun picking up on Draco’s wishes and granting them of seemingly its own accord, Hermione sees Harry look suspicious. He peers behind him at the storm suddenly raging outside his house before slowly closing the door. When he turns back he looks directly at Hermione, who looks away quickly.

They set up the food Harry had gotten — all kinds of Halloween-themed sweets — and once everyone has their drinks (“Make mine,” Draco tells Harry, “you do it best”) and is comfortable on the two sofas in the room (Harry and Draco are, as usual, as close to each other as they can get without actually touching) they start the movie: The Thing, which Harry swears is one of the greatest horror films of all time.

Funny thing is, an hour and a half into it she looks over and, with a jolt, realises the two of them are kissing half-covered beneath a blanket. She elbows Ron, who positively beams when he notices.

“Fucking finally, dear sweet Merlin,” he whispers, the sound muffled by the continued rain and thunder. “I nearly hit him upside the head when he made it rain, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Shh!” Hermione hisses, though she’s smiling. “They’ll hear you. We’ll rag him about it tomorrow.”

A soft sound of laughter comes from the other sofa that Hermione identifies as Draco’s, and when she risks another peek after a moment she sees that Harry has a hand on Draco’s jaw, and that he’s smiling.

#anna writes #this prompt rly sent me into a tailspin of emotion #Anonymous

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davidmann95 · 4 years ago

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Sooo… Superman and the Authority?

magnus-king123 asked: Your thoughts on Superman & the authority Give it to me...lol

Anonymous asked: Seeing Bezos take his little trip into space the same day Morrison puts out a Superman comic that touches on how far we’ve fallen from the days when we dreamed of utopian futures where everyone explored the stars was a big gut punch. Not used to Superman being topical in that way.

Anonymous asked: What'd you think of Superman and the Authority#1?

This is far beyond what I can fit in the normal weekly reviews, so taking this as my notes on the first six pages, with this and this as my major lead-in thoughts:

* Janin's such a perfect fit for Morrison - the scale, the power, the facial expressions selling the character work, the screwing around with the panel formatting as necessary to sell the effect, the numinous sense of things going on larger than you can fully perceive amidst the beauty and chaos. It's a shame he wasn't around 25 years ago to draw JLA, but I'll take him going with Morrison onto other future projects.

* His intro action sequence is such a great demonstration of why Black actually does have something to offer, and also how he's such a dumbass desperately needing Superman to save him from himself.

* While Jordie Bellaire didn't legit go with an entirely monochromatic palate the way early previews suggested, it's still an effect frequently and excellently deployed here. And glad to see Steve Wands carry into this from Blackstars since there's such an obvious carryover from its work with Superman.

* "Gentlemen. Ladies. Others." Great both because of the obvious - hey, Superman's nodding at me! - and because it's a phrasing that reinforces that this take on him (and let's be real Morrison) is old as hell.

* I'm mostly past caring about whether this is an alt-Earth Superman until it becomes indisputable one way or another, this and Action both rule so what does it really matter? But while there are still a couple signs in play suggesting some kind of division (the Action Comics #1036 cover, Midnighter up to time-travel shenanigans) the "lost in time" quote clearly thrown in after the fact to explain how he could have met Kennedy outside of 5G that wouldn't be necessary for an Elseworlds, the assorted gestures towards Superman's current status quo, the Kingdom Come symbol appearing in Action, and that Morrison would have had to completely rewrite the ending if this wasn't supposed to be 'the' version of Clark Kent going forward as was the intent when they first planned it all say to me that no, no fooling around, this is our guy going forward one way or another.

* Janin and Bellaire making the first version of the crystal Fortress ever that actually looks as cool as you want it to.

Anonymous asked: I like that Superman and The Authority is basically the anti-All-Star; instead of the laid back, immortal Superman who is supercharged, we have a stressed, ageing Superman whose tremendous powers are fading. The former will always be there to save us, but the latter is running out of time and needs to pull off a Hail Mary. Also, he mentions in his monologue to Black that he was "lost in time" when he met JFK, so maybe he is the main continuity Clark. Or he's the t-shirt Supes from Sideways.

* You're absolutely right - the power reversal is obvious and the ticking clock in play seemingly isn't for his own survival but everyone around him as he wakes up and realizes all the old icons grew complacent with the gains they'd made and he's not leaving behind the world he meant to. Both, however, are built on the idea of preparing the world to not need them anymore - it'll still have a Superman in his son, but that'll only work because of the others he empowers and inspires. The question is what happens to Clark if he's not going to live in the sun for 83000 years.

* Clark's 'exercise' here does more to sell me on the idea of Old Man Superman as a cool idea than however many decades of Earth 2 stuff.

* Intergang being noted alongside Darkseid and Doomsday speaks to how much Kirby informed Morrison's conception of Superman.

* This isn't exactly the most progressive in its disability politics but at least it makes clear Black's being a piece of shit about it.

* It's startling how much Clark can get away with saying stuff in here you'd never expect to come out of Superman's mouth. "I made an executive decision" "Privacy, really...?" "You have nowhere to go, Black. Nothing to live for." "There are few people in my life who I instinctively and viscerally dislike, and you've always been one of them." It only works because there's zero aggression behind it, he's just past the point of niceties and being totally frank while making clear none of these assessments preclude that he cares and is going to unconditionally do the right thing every time. He is absolutely, per Morrison, humanity's dad picking us up when we're too drunk to drive ourselves home.

* The story doesn't put a big flashing light over it, but it's not even a little bit subtle having the material threat of the issue be a ticking timebomb left by the carelessness and hubris of generations past.

* Manchester keeps trying to poke the bear and prove his hot takes about Superman and it's just not working. The front he put up under Kelley is gone after decades of defeats, and as Morrison understands what actually conceptually works about him as a rival to Superman underneath the aging nerd paranoia he's exposed as what he absolutely would be in 2021: a dude with a horrific terminal case of Twitter brainworms. I was PANICKED when I heard there was an 'offensive term' joke in this, I was braced for Morrison at their well-meaning worst, but it's such a goddamn perfect encapsulation of a very specific breed of Twitter leftist who uses their politics first and foremost as a cudgel and justification to label their abrasive, judgmental shittiness as self-righteousness (plus it's a killer payoff to a joke from way back in his original appearance). Cannot believe they pulled that off when they're so very, very open about basically not knowing how the internet works.

* @charlottefinn: Manchester Black using his telekinetic powers to force someone he hates to fave a problematic tweet so that he can screenshot it and start a dogpile

@intergalactic-zoo: “Once they cancel Bibbo, Superman won’t be *anyone’s* fav’rit anymore!”

* Friend noted this issue had to be fully the conversation because the whole premise stands on the house of cards of these two somehow working together, and with three 'silent' inset panels the creative team pulls off that turning point.

* So much of this feels on the surface like Morrison bringing back the All-Star vibes with Clark, but when he drops a "That's all you got?" in a brawl you realize what's underlining that bluntness and confidence in the face of failure is that deep down this is still the Action guy too. This dude ain't gonna get wrecked in his Fortress while the other guy chuckles about him being A SOFT WEE SCIENTIST'S SON!

* Bringing up Jor-El made me realize that Morrison already spelled out that this is the final threat to Superman, what he faces at the end of the road:

"Now it's your turn, Superman."

* A l'il Superman 2000/All-Star reference with the Phantom Zone map!

* There's so much intertextuality going on here even by Morrison standards - Change or Die with the old hero putting together a team of morally nebulous folks out to 'fix' everything, Flex Mentallo with the muscleman trying to redeem the punk, Doomsday Clock with the fate of the world hinging on whether Superman can get through to a meta stand-in for an idea of 'modern' comics cynicism, DKR and New Frontier and Kingdom Come and Multiversity and Seven Soldiers and What's So Funny and All-Star and Action and the last 5 years of monthly Superman comics and Authority and probably Jupiter's Legacy and Tom Strong - but none of that's needed. You could go in with the baseline pop cultural understanding of the character and not care about any of the inside baseball shit and get that this is a story about a leader of a generation that let down the people they made all their grand promises to as inertia and day-to-day demands and complacency let him be satisfied with the accomplishments they'd made long ago, looking at a new era and seeing the ways its own activists are dropping the ball. The only thing that fundamentally matters in a "you have to accept you're reading a superhero story" sense is that because he's Superman he's willing to own up to it and listen to people who might know better about some things and try to set things right while he and those who'll take his place still have a chance. And yes, the oldster looking back on their legacy with a skeptical eye and hoping for better from the next generation, hoping most of all that their little heir apparent can fulfill the promise inside of him instead of being a provocating little shitkicker, is obviously also autobiographical.

* The overlaying Kennedy reprisal is such a great visual of a sudden intrusive thought.

* The Kryptonite secret is the obvious "This is going to matter!" moment, but "He lied about his son" is a bit that doesn't connect to anything going on right now so maybe that's important here too? More significantly, the Justice League can't actually be the villains here but that Ultra-Humanite's crew are in an Earth-orbiting satellite makes pretty clear what's up.

* I've said before that between Superman, OMAC, and a New Gods-affiliated speedster this was going to use all of Morrison's favorite things. King Arthur playing a role isn't exactly dissuading me.

* Love the idea that all the antiheroes have their own community in the same way as the capes and tights crew. They definitely all privately think the rest are posers though and that they alone are Garth Ennis Punisher in a mob of Garth Ennis Wolverines.

* Manchester's fallen so far he's gone from trying to convince Superman to kill to convince him to dunk on people for their bad takes and Clark just doesn't get it. Official prediction of dialogue for upcoming issues:

"According to these bloody Fortress scans, the only thing that can restore your powers is an unfiltered hit of dopamine. Don't worry, Doctor Black has a few ideas."

"Hmm. Maybe I'll plant a nice tree?"

"...fuck you."

* Ok I already talked about how great the Fortress looks in here but LOVE this library.

* A pair of pages this seems like the right spot to discuss from Black's original appearance that underlines both his and Superman's inadequacies up to this point:

Responding to the problem of "the government and penal system are hopelessly corrupt" neither of them has any actual notion of what to do about it in spite of their respective posturing beyond how to handle individual outside actors - each is in their own way every bit as small-minded and reactionary as the other. Clark's coming around though, and he's holding out hope for the other guy.

* Superman: Have a lovely mineral water :) proper hydration is important :)

Manchester Black: *Is a dude who can get so mad he vomits and passes out. At water.*

* That last page is the one to beat for the year, and does more to put over the idea of this as an Authority book than that Midnighter and Apollo are literally going to show up. It also feels like Morrison tacitly acknowledging all the ways the premise could go or at least be received wrong - from Superman saying 'enough is enough' to who he's bringing into the fold to go about it - in the most beautifully on-the-nose fashion imaginable. Maybe they'll save us all! Or maybe they'll drown us in their vomit.

#Superman and The Authority #Superman #The Authority #Manchester Black #Grant Morrison #Mikel Janin #Jordie Bellaire #Steve Wands #Opinion

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crystal-moon-101 · 4 years ago

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Charmcaster and Mike!💚

I present to you the chaotic magical duo! They were pretty fun to draw with their colours and different body shapes, and these two I've been really wanting to talk about since I've made a lot of rewrite changes for them. Before I get into that, I recommend you read my Dagon Arc Rewrite, to get a better idea of where I've taken these characters, as I involved them quite a bit in that story line. Albedo will be the next redesign eventually, and I'm glad people are liking what I'm doing with these characters so far.

-Mike Morningstar-

Soooo, Mike. He's always been an interesting concept to me, because there are two ways you could make his character go. One way is to just go full out with the creep and power hungry factor, making him a villain through and through, which can provide a very eerie character, which is the route canon mostly too. The other way, which I've taken, is you could make him a very complicated character, tragic even, with the idea of "If someone was born with dark magic, how would the world treat them", and since canon (Both the original series and reboot timeline) as taken the more evil villain approached, I'm taking a much different approach because I think his story can add a lot of interesting dynamics. In terms of his design, I went for the "rich winter" outfit aesthetic, since this lad does know his fashion and tastes.

Mike is an Apotrodite from his mother's side, the dark magic equivalent of Anodites. This means Mike primarily uses dark magic, but unlike other people, his Apotrodite sides means he is in full control of himself, and can't be tainted by dark magic. But that doesn't mean everything goes well...

His parents are Lilith Morningstar and Samael Morningstar, both Plumbers who work in the magical department of things, and since Lilith can use dark magic without it corrupting her, the two get a hefty amount of money working in a field only they can really handle. So they're a very rich family, owning two mansions on earth, and some holiday homes.

Mike was an...accident, not something planned, but his parents wanted to see what it was like, not realizing how raising a child takes a lot of work, especially one that was born half Apotrodite. You see, since Mike was only half, his dark magic didn't come naturally to him for a while, needing to adjust and train himself. There were worries Mike would end up hurting someone, which both Lilith and Samael were nervous about, since Apotrodites didn't have a good reputation anywhere for their use of dark magic. They feared that if Lilith or Mike made a mistake, they'll both be shipped back to their homeworld, which none of them wanted...

Sadly, a mistake did happen one day. Mike didn't mean too, it just happened suddenly, but he ended up hurting two other kids in Plumber Kindergarden, giving one magical burns, and nearly draining the life out of another. He felt horrible over what happened, and couldn't stop sobbing for the rest of the day as everyone debated what to do, and had a long discussion with Mike's parents. Lilith and Samael ended up pulling Mike out from school to homeschool him from now on...and didn't trust Mike to leave the house on his own ever, the fears getting the better of them. So...you could say Mike's childhood was rather lonely and depressing. Eventually as he grew older, he got into lots of arguments with his parents, until finally snapping and running away sometime after his encounter with Ben and his friends. If everyone was going to treat him like a monster, then he might as well be what they say he was and do it being free...

Mike does have an Apotrodite form, much like how Gwen has an Anodite form, but he hardly ever turns into it, even if it would save him energy and make his human form 'rot' less. He doesn't like being reminded of what he is, the reason behind all his problems...

He loves cats, and has always wanted one since he learnt about them.

Mike did end up helping Charmcaster when she was losing herself in omniverse, during the final fight with her. He was one of the few who managed to snap her out of her insanity, and later when she was recovering, she tracked him down with the help of Ben, and managed to convince him to come to Ledgerdomain with her, wanting to repay him for his help. Along with knowing that Mike was really just lonely and tired with the world...something she could relate too...

His hasn't been in contact with his parents since running away from home, and they haven't made an effort to reach out to him, not sure how to approach their son after what he became...

Mike and Hex have a very...awkward dynamic, since neither know how to talk to the other, especially regarding Charmcaster.

Loves scarfs, he just likes the way they look and feel.

-Hope Charmcaster-

Miss Charmcaster, a character who keeps spinning on that plot merry go round. She was defiantly someone who went insane due to how often the writing changed her up, which is a shame since she is a very interesting character, so that's what I'm here for. For her redesign, I've always loved the idea of her being short, plump and very curvy, and entirely confident with her body and looks. She knows she's hot, and owns it. I kept her outfit similar to her original and omniverse style, but played around with the look of it.

Her mother died at childbirth, so her father had to raise her own his own, with the help of Uncle Hex from time to time. Eventually after what happened in Ledgerdomain with Addwaitya, Hex has been looking after her since she was 8, but it wasn't easy, especially when he started tapping into dark magic to find ways to fight Addwaitya, and eventually going power hungry. Charmcaster knows Hex was trying his best, but there are things she can't forgive him for, even if they're getting better during her recovery.

She has black markings on her hands due to her use of the Alpha Rune and dark magic. The Alpha Rune also left a mark on her chest right above her heart. She is subconscious about these things, and tends to hide them from everyone and herself.

Ben 100% had a crush on her as a kid, and she knows it.

Charmcaster has a sweet tooth, and loves desserts. Her favorite is cake, strawberry cake to be precise.

She's still trying to be the Queen of Ledgerdomain, which isn't easy with what's left of it, but she's slowly getting them and creating a new age for the Kingdom, having opened it out to any magic user in the galaxy that needs a place to go.

Gwen and Charmcaster have been building up a nice friendship finally now that Charmcaster is getting help. It's been sweet, with Gwen doing normal teen and girl stuff that Charmcaster hasn't been able to do in years. The little things always remind her that she is human after all.

She is still on the hunt for Addwaitya with the help of Gwen, Hex, Mike and the Plumbers, after the turtle managed to run away during the fight against her.

Later on Mike and Charmcaster do meet other Apotrodites, and visit their homeworld, and does feel bad for their situation. They pair end up letting a good chunk of them move to Ledgerdomain, where it will be safe for them from the outside galaxy, and their contribution of dark magic knowledge really helps Ledgerdomain in the long run.

#Ben 10 #B10 #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 original series #Ben 10 Mike Morningstar #Mike Morningstar #Ben 10 Charmcaster #Charmcaster #Morningcaster #Ben 10 Redesign #Ben 10 Rewrite #My Art

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kuiperblog · 4 years ago

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The first 1% is always the hardest

Usually, the hardest part of acquiring a new skill is starting it for the first time.

When you’re at an intermediate level of progression, you can usually just increase your skill level by incrementing up the difficulty linearly. If you’re a novice weightlifter and your best overhead press is 125 lbs, try adding 5 lbs to the bar and see if you can overhead press 130 lbs. (If not, keep lifting 125 lbs every few days until that becomes “easy,” then challenge yourself with 130 lbs again.) If you can do 10 push-ups, you will probably reach the point where you can do 11 push-ups, and 12 push-ups, and 15 push-ups, and 25 push-ups, and so on. The hardest part of lifting is day 1, when you might be performing certain motions for the first time in your life, and challenging your body to work muscles that you didn’t even realize existed.

I imagine the same is true of other fitness regimens: once you’re able to run a 9 minute mile, you probably have what it takes to run a 8:30 mile, or a 8 minute mile, if you keep at it. Eventually you’ll hit a plateau and the limits of human performance, but the first day in the gym is always the hardest.

This is sort of how the trajectory of my writing career went. And having talked to artist friends, and musicians, it seems like all of them followed a similar trend: they found a thing, they stuck with it, and over time found themselves advancing along that path bit by bit. It became a hobby or a routine such that over time, by by investing a bit more time, or a bit more effort, or challenging themselves a tiny bit more, they got better at it. And over years, the compounding returns of that meant that the girl who got a drawing tablet at age 14 found that by the time she was 22 years old, she had enough artistic skill to make enough money from her art to make a living.

I think that in a lot of cases, people were able to start down that path of gradual self-improvement in part because they were able to somehow bypass the hardest part of it -- they blazed right through the initial difficulty without even realizing it. They couldn’t even really answer the question of “When did you start drawing,” because they’ve always been drawing since the days that they were just doodling with pencil in paper at school. Maybe they just really enjoyed playing outdoors as a kid, and played soccer because it was fun, and made the seamless transition to being a high school athlete. In my case, I spent a lot of time writing long-winded forum posts explaining the finer points of topics I was passionate about (which, at age 13, was mostly Pokemon and Final Fantasy), and somehow by my 20′s I had enough of a penchant for explaining things that I was able to parley that into a writing career (so I can get paid for my long-winded explanations of Pokemon-related topics).

The early days of learning to write kind of sucked and were difficult. (For starters, remember how unintuitive that QWERTY keyboard was the first time that you learned to type? Remember how painful it was to hunt-and-peck your way through sentences at an effective rate of <10 words per minute?) But my desire to talk about Pokemon on message boards overwhelmed any difficulty or “suckiness” involved with learning to express my ideas through text, and so the suckiness of those early days wasn’t really much of an obstacle.

More and more, I’ve come to believe that the most important part of learning a new skill is finding a way to get over that initial difficulty hump -- of finding a way to survive the first day, and then the first week, and then the first month, and eventually reach a point where inertia carries you forward on a gradual upward slope of self-improvement where you’re not even consciously thinking too hard about improvement; you just randomly muse to yourself one day, “Oh yeah, this barbell I’m picking up weighs about 100 lbs more than the barbell I was lifting a year ago. Fancy that.” The longer you keep at it, the easier it is to stick with it.

In many corners of the internet, there’s an oft-repeated adage that “Watching anime won’t teach you to speak or understand Japanese.” And sure, that’s obviously true on some level. If someone is thinking they’re going to spend a thousand hours watching subtitled anime, and then one day flip off the subtitles and be able to follow everything without missing a beat, they’re probably a bit delusional. If you want to actually achieve anything approaching Japanese fluency, you’re probably going to have to take a Japanese learning course, and engaged in spaced repetition to pick up and retain vocabulary, and all of the other stuff that goes into learning any language.

But I think that watching anime does provide you with one big advantage: it goes a long way toward helping you cross that “day 1″ hump. Because the first day is always the hardest. Going from 0 to 1 is harder than increasing your vocabulary by a few new words every week. Before you can get the compounding returns from incrementally improving at a skill, you have to have a starting principle. And I think that watching anime is actually quite good for that, because only knowing “weeaboo Japanese” will give you 20-30% of the vocabulary that’s included in your first couple Japanese lessons.

I’m speaking from personal experience: it’s incredibly heartening to go through a lesson and encounter words that I’m already familiar with. Even if my fluency in “weeaboo Japanese” only covers 10% of what’s introduced in a given lesson, having a head start gives me an intangible confidence boost which makes it easier for me to focus on and retain the other 90%.

I don’t want to understate the importance of that intangible confidence boost: a lot of language acquisition is getting comfortable with a language, and repeating something so much that you do it without even thinking about it. For example, in English, sometimes sometimes someone might ask you “how’s it going?” and you might answer “fine” before your brain has even consciously registered the meaning of what you were hearing, or saying. And I’m enough of a weeb that I can hear i tenki desu ne and immediately reflexively respond with sou desu ne, before my brain has even consciously registered the question being asked (sometimes taking several seconds to mentally backtrack and realize, “Oh right, the “i tenki” part means “nice weather.”). But years and years of listening and pattern recognition have taught me that when someone ends a sentence in desu ne? with the sort of inflection that says “I’m asking you a rhetorical question,” the proper response is probably sou desu ne, and my brain produces that response just as reflexively as it spits out “I’m doing fine, how about you?” any time someone asks “How’s it going?”)

One thing I’ve come to notice is that every lesson begins with some of some amount of review, giving you that spaced repetition, and providing context for the new words and concepts that the lesson is about to introduce, and generally provide a foundation for the new material. Day 1 is, by necessity, the exception -- how can you “review” material that you’ve never covered before? But for me, the day 1 lessons on how to say nihongo and arigato and watashi and anata were already “review” of topics that I picked up through years of being a weeb.

Besides that, there’s the fact that the structural elements of Japanese are something that my brain was naturally able to grok in a way that is intuitive to me after spending years listening to spoken Japanese even though most of it is contextual. (Like, I’m not sure when this happened, but at a certain point I think my brain just kind of learned, when listening to Japanese sentences, to approximate which parts were the verb and where certain clauses landed in the sentence, if only because when watching anime with subtitles you become consciously aware of when a character’s name appears in the dialog.) I’m not really consciously thinking about it, which kind of feels like the “natural” way to learn a language. (After all, it’s not as if native English speakers, as toddlers, consciously think to themselves, “Ah, it seems as though English typically follows a subject-verb-object grammar structure.” Kids just listen to adults speaking English and form sentences that way without really having to be formally taught.)

It’s highly likely that at some point in my internet career that I have at one point been the cynical message board poster telling someone that, contrary to their fantasies, watching anime isn’t going to help them learn Japanese in any real or material way, and if I’ve ever suggested that, it’s time for me to eat crow. Because while the advantage that “weeaboo-level Japanese” gives you might be small, and only help you on the first few days of Japanese class, those are the most important days, because the first 1% is always the hardest.

My familiarity with “weeaboo-level Japanese” has only given me one disadvantage, and that is that years of memes have poisoned my brain to the point where the first I was prompted with “say ‘excuse me’ in Japanese,” my brain (and mouth) immediately spat out “sorrymasen,” and I wish I could say it only happened once, but it wasn’t until around day 3 that I managed to fully train this habit out of myself.

#japanese vocabulary #learning japanese #japanese

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theboredwritertm · 5 years ago

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"Look at you... goodness you're so cute" fic request with reader/Din, please? :D

His Reason

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: None, I don’t think. Like one curse word.

Word Count: 1,935

A/N: This is the first time I’ve ever written a reader insert fic, so I hope I did alright with it. Thanks for the request, anon! I’ll admit I struggled to keep the story in the same tense in some parts because of the POV. But I had fun! And I love me some soft!Mando. This is also kind of based on an idea I had for a multi-part fic, so I might include it as part of that.

Summary: Our boy, Mando, has just broken the Bounty Hunter’s Guild code, but with you currently calling Nevarro home, he can’t stand the thought of leaving you behind.

******************************************************

Din had absolutely no business dragging you into this.

He was the one who had fucked up. All he’d had to do was deliver the acquisition, just like any other job he’d done before. Only this one hadn’t been like any other job. One look at the tiny, big-eyed baby and he knew he would never be able to leave it in the hands of a bunch of Imperials. Not in good conscience. And if he was being honest with himself, a conscience was one of the few things he had left; a standard to hold himself to that hadn’t been given to him or expected of him by somebody else.

So, he’d broken the code; a code he had based his entire career on, that he relied on for his reputation, which up until this point had been practically spotless.

And now he was in a world of trouble and was somehow making a beeline directly for your door, babbling baby still in hand, and the weight of a bounty now firmly on his head, dragging along whatever stain he had earned on that once perfect reputation to taint your own. Yet, still, knowing all of this, he continued on the well-acquainted back streets to your home.

He’d known you for years, agreed to sponsor you when you’d finally decided to join the guild, had even put some of his own earnings towards your fees, and yet here he was, on a direct path to making you lose everything and all because of him. His selfishness. His need to be near you.

You’d settled in a small place on Nevarro to be closer to work, to give you a taste of what a less-chaotic life might be like in between jobs that involved chasing down dangerous fugitives. It had always given him the perfect excuse to appear on your doorstep, dropping by after collecting a bounty or picking up some new job from Greef. Never stopping by without a reason. That would be too obvious. Too needy.

That would give him away.

Yet, from the moment he had broken the code and taken back the child, he had known it would never be safe to step foot on Nevarro again. And the thought of never being able to see you again drove him to your familiar neighborhood.

As he stopped at your front door, he thought of what excuse he might use now and looked down at the bundle in his arms. He didn’t know a thing about babies. He needed someone to help keep this thing alive. At least that’s what he told himself – but what made him think you knew any better? Relying on some innate maternal instinct to kick in? You’d never had to care for any younglings, either, and you’d never mentioned wanting any, though it wasn’t exactly a conversation he had brought up with you. That topic hit a little too close to home. Because the thought of you having a child, of the two of you starting a little family of your own, was something he had thought about often in the rare, quiet moments he’d shared with you on jobs, when he’d allowed himself to daydream when you thought he might be asleep.

When you opened your door and smiled up at him like you always did when you saw him, he couldn’t deny the relief that flooded over him. Being near you always made him feel safe, a ridiculous concept given the size difference and his greater experience with weapons and fighting – he’d been the one to train you, after all – but he thought that maybe it wasn’t a physical kind of safety that you gave him. Yes, he was sure you’d lay your life down for him without hesitation, as he would do the same for you, but you made him feel safe in the same way the Mandalorians had when they’d lifted him through the doors of the smoking basement all those years ago. It was a feeling that everything was going to be alright. That he was looked after. That he might just be okay.

It didn’t take long for your eyes to drift down to the stolen package in his arms, but before you could so much as utter a question, he was pushing you back as he forced his way inside your home. With one quick glance down the street, he pushed the button to slide the door closed behind him.

“Uhh…what the hell’s going on, Din?”

You listen to the modulated sigh that huffs through his helmet.

Right. The excuse. He had been too caught up in thinking about you to even remember to come up with one.

He finds himself caught now between the usual pleasure of the way you say his name and the scramble for an acceptable excuse for bringing trouble your way. He looks at you, at the familiar curve of your face and your soft features, even as you frown up at him with eyes full of concern, and he’s suddenly reminded of his ‘why’; of his own personal reason.

“Something’s happened. How soon can you be ready to leave?”

Even as the words tumble out of his mouth, he knows he’s asking too much.

“Excuse me?” You blink up at him, confused and taken aback by what had almost sounded like a command.

His visor turns towards you in what you can only assume is a meaningful stare, but without seeing his face there’s not a lot of meaning to read. Yet, you had spent enough time with him to read his gestures. He means what he says. You don’t think there’s ever been a time where he hasn’t. In his arms the child coos. You glance down at it, getting a proper look for the first time. You’d never seen anything like it before.

“What did you do?” you ask quietly.

There’s no judgment in your tone, not that he had expected any, but there was a sharp curiosity as you bent down for a better look at what he was holding. Completely out of instinct, he hands the child over to you, surprised to find that you take it without hesitation. He watches you for a moment as you hold the baby up and pull it in close, and smiles to himself beneath his helmet at the way your face lights up when it gurgles happily.

You hug the child in close, sitting it on your hip in a way that feels oddly natural. “Look at you…goodness, you’re so cute.”

“The Imperials wanted it,” Din finally confesses.

The horrified look you direct at him is like a punch to the gut; confirmation of his own wrongdoings.

“You took it to them?”

There it is. The judgment he’d been dreading. Or maybe he was projecting, haunted by his own guilt at letting a child fall into the hands of people so evil. He fumbles for another excuse.

“I took it back.”

You stare at him, then your gaze drops and he wonders what you’re thinking, if he’s suddenly changed in your view; morphed into something monstrous beneath the armor. You had never seen him with it off, as was The Way, but he had taken it off in your presence many times before. He glances down at the strip of cloth you always keep tied around your forearm – a simple bit of clothing to the view of others, but to him a considerate accessory for, and constant reminder of, the many rendezvous you’d shared that never failed to escalate into a tangle of needy limbs and panting mouths.

“What did they want with it?” you ask, drawing him out of his thoughts.

“No idea.”

You notice the way his voice softens, his slightly hunched posture like he’s waiting for another blow. Your rejection, you realize. You try to slow things down in your mind and piece it all together.

“You’re on the run,” you guess, not a question but a calm realization.

He gives a single, silent nod.

“If you come with me, now, you will be, too. You’ll be forfeiting –”

Your sharp snort cuts through him and feeds a little more into that ever-growing guilt. You’re shaking your head at him and the rejection hits him harder than he was expecting, enough to make him realize the true gravity of his hopes.

“Whatever I’m forfeiting,” you tell him, “I gave it up the moment you showed up, Din.”

He had pictured all the ways that this could go wrong, and admittedly this reaction wasn’t one of them. He fights the urge to turn and leave, to take it all back with him out that door, to never bother you again. The thought is painful enough to keep him grounded. He remains where he is.

“Six years ago,” you continue, and he looks up, hopes renewed. “When we did our first job together. I think that’s when I knew what I’d be giving up.” You stare up at him, face soft yet serious, as you sway the baby on your hip as naturally as a nursemaid might. “For the longest time, I thought I wanted a life of peace, after everything I went through. Then you came into my life and I was willing to let go of that dream. Because I knew that if I chose you, we might not get that. And I’m okay with that.”

The room is silent. Even the child looks between the two of you, as if feeling the weight of the words being spoken, even if he can’t understand them. Din isn’t even sure that he does. He knows what he wants them to mean, but can’t allow himself to believe it just yet.

You step towards him – this soft, funny man who still managed to take you completely by surprise, and who you had slowly but completely fallen in love with, even if it had taken months initially for the internal armor to come down and let you in. Your hand comes to rest on his chest, right above where his heart beats under layers of beskar, tunic, flesh, and bone, and he wonders if you can feel how hard it's beating beneath your touch – how hard it always beats when he’s around you.

“You’ll never be able to come home again,” he warns you, looking around the space you had managed to make yours over the last few years. You chuckle and he looks back at you, and the gentle look in your eyes makes him wonder if he’s ever wanted to kiss anybody so badly in his life.

You shrug and look around at the simple dwelling – a house that had proven to be a convenient place to stay, but had never quite felt like home. You realize now, in his presence, why this is. “This place? It was getting a little cramped anyway.”

His own laugh rumbles through the modulator. “If you think this is bad, wait until you’re on the ship.”

“I’ve been on the Crest. It’s not so bad. Better company.” You grin up at him, and though you can’t see it, you sense that he’s doing the same, both struck by a sudden, inexplicable feeling of hope. He reaches out, finally, and brushes your hair back, melting in a totally un-Mandalorian-like manner when you lean into his touch.

He will think on this moment in the hard times to come, reaching back for a perfect memory to keep him grounded. But he won’t need it often. With you by his side, he feels certain he can make it through just about anything.

#the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagines #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagines #din djarin #the child

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easily-infatuated23 · 5 years ago

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Hidden Kiss

a/n: this is based on a concept from the 2003 live action peter pan movie and I had so much fun writing this!! if you want this kind of situation with other characters let me know, i’d love to make this like a head cannon or something. I also have some requests i’m working on so don’t worry those are coming!

pairing: Platonic!Harry Potter x Gryffindor!Reader, Fred Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: mentions of death

summary: There is something in the corner of the readers mouth, and it’s powerful

The day had been ordinary. Meals, classes, all as normal as they could be. When Professor Flitwick asked Harry to tutor a fellow student, he thought nothing of it. “Who is it I’ll be tutoring Professor?” Harry asked. “You will be tutoring Y/F/N Y/L/N. You will have access to my class room. She’s agreed to meet you here at 7 o’clock today”. Harry nodded and left the classroom to make his way to his next class. He didn’t know Y/N very well, or really at all. He knew that she was a Gryffindor in his year, and that was all. At dinner he asked Ron and Hermione about her. “Do either of you know Y/F/N Y/L/N very well?” The two shook their heads. “I do”. The three looked over at the voice, it was Neville. “She’s quiet but really nice. She also has the most amazing smile.” The three laughed a little at what they thought was Neville inferring he had a crush on Y/N. “No seriously, if you ask anyone who knows her they all say the same thing. There is something about her smile that makes you want to stare.” With that, Neville went back to his Herbology book. “Thats odd” Harry said. Hermione shrugged. “Speaking of, it’s 6:55 so you’d better get going” Ron said. “Yeah alright. I’ll see you guys later” Harry said. He left the Great Hall and made his way to the Charms classroom. When he got there, Y/N was waiting for him.

“Am I late?” he asked as he entered the room. “Oh no,” she began, looking up from her book “I’m just always early to things”. As Harry approached her, she smiled. Neville was right, she did have an amazing smile…but it was more than that. As the session continued, Harry kept looked at her lips. “Are you ok Harry?” she asked. He pulled his gaze up to meet her eyes. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about something”. “Ok”. She shrugged and smiled again. There was definitely something in the corner of her mouth. Every time he thought he saw it, it disappeared. When the session was over, the two walked back to the Gryffindor common room together. “Thank you for helping me Harry. I’ve been really struggling with this unit for some reason” she said as they climbed through the portrait hole. “My pleasure. Let me know when you want to meet again” he replied. When they walked into the common room, Ron and Hermione were sitting on the couch together in front of the fire. The two greeted Harry and then Y/N. “Do you want to join us for a bit?” Harry asked. She politely declined and left to go study more. “How was it?” Hermione asked. “It was good” Harry replied. “Did what Neville said about her smile hold up?” Ron added. Harry wasn’t sure how to respond to this. Her smile was definitely special but he still wasn’t sure exactly what he saw. He simply chuckled and nodded his head.

As the tutoring sessions continued, and as Harry got to know Y/N better, the thing in the corner of her mouth became more constant. He had also started to notice that nearly anyone who talked to her would glance at her mouth multiple times throughout the conversation, as if they thought they saw something too. It didn’t seem to bother Y/N. Harry wasn’t even sure she noticed it half of the time. He still hadn’t told Ron and Hermione about what he thought he saw. It was bad enough he was seeing and hearing things because of Voldemort, he didn’t want to add another thing to the list. After seeing more and more people stare at her mouth, he finally felt confident enough that he wasn’t the only one seeing something, so he asked them.

“There’s something different about her, have you noticed?” Harry asked. “Well I mean she always wears the same pair of shoes but I don’t think that’s-” “No I don’t mean like that. Have you ever noticed that whenever she smiles or talks or does anything really that there is something in the corner of her mouth?” Hermione and Ron looked at each other. “You mean like food?” Ron asked. Harry sighed in frustration. “No it’s like- there’s something hidden. It’s staring right at me but I can’t figure out what it is”. “Are you sure you aren’t imaging something?” Hermione asked. “No I’m not. Next time you see her look at the left corner of her lips, trust me.” Ron rolled his eyes.

They wouldn’t have to wait too long to look because moments later she entered the common room. “Hey guys, did you happen to write down the due date for the Charms essay? I sort of tuned out the last few minutes of that class accidentally” she said with a chuckle. “Oh yeah it’s due next Tuesday” Hermione replied, trying not to make it obvious that she was staring directly at Y/N’s lips. “Brilliant, thanks Hermione”. She smiled sweetly before turning and ascending the stair case to the girls dormitory. But, before she turned, they saw it. Hidden in the left corner of her lips was…something. It’s hard to describe what it was. “Did you see it? Right when she smiled, it was there” Harry said as he pointed to the left corner of his mouth. Hermione and Ron looked at each other again, this time not to judge Harry for seeing things, but realizing he was right. “It’s almost like an invisible sparkle” Hermione said. “Yeah it sort of draws you in” Ron added. “I’ve never seen or read about anything like that” Hermione said, nudging Ron slightly to break him out of his dreamy haze. “Maybe we should ask Luna, she knows about all sorts of weird things that don’t make sense” Harry proposed. It was decided. Tomorrow, the group would ask Luna if she knew anything about things hidden in the corners of peoples mouths. Harry had to admit, it sounded daft. If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it was there.

The next day on their way to breakfast, the trio found Luna. “Hey Luna! Can I ask you about something that seems impossible?” She gave Harry an airy smile. “Nothing is impossible Harry Potter, just uncommon” she replied. Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes a bit. “It’s about Y/N, there’s something in the corner of her mouth and-” Luna stopped him. “Ah yes, her hidden kiss.” “Her what?” Ron asked. “Her hidden kiss. My mother had it too. It’s a special kiss that hides in the corner of your mouth. Only someone incredibly special to the one who has the kiss may receive it. It’s a powerful thing”. With that, she skipped away towards the Great Hall. “A hidden kiss? That sounds bonkers” Ron said. “It does but it also kind of makes sense” Hermione said. “How do you mean?” Harry asked. “Well, remember how Dumbledore said that your mother’s love protects you from You-Know-Who, maybe it’s another form of that. The one who receives the kiss, is protected by that persons love”. As unlikely as it seemed, the trio couldn’t help but feel like this had to be the truth. “We could also just ask her” Harry said. “But, maybe she doesn’t know she has it” Hermione suggested. “This is all a bit too mad this early in the morning, I’m going to go get some sausages” Ron said, making his way towards the Great Hall. Hermione gave Harry a slight smile and followed after Ron. Harry, however, wasn’t satisfied. He wanted more answers and now he had somewhere to start. He decided to go to the library and see if he could find some books on hidden forms of magic. When he got to the library, he flipped through as many as he could before his first class of the day. Nothing. He found nothing.

Once classes ended for the day, he decided to go back. When he entered the library for the second time that day, she was there. “Maybe she doesn’t know she has it” Hermione’s voice chimed into Harry’s head. He shook her voice away and decided to walk up and ask her. “Hey Y/N”. She looked up from her book and smiled at him. The hidden kiss sparkled. “Hi Harry. What brings you to the library for a second time today? If you keep this up, people will think you are up to something” she said jokingly. “How did you know I came to the library already today?” “You didn’t come to breakfast. Luna said you went to the library to look up hidden magic. It’s a very interesting topic” she replied. This was his chance. “Do you know much about it?” he asked, sitting down next to her. “I know a little. I know it usually occurs by accident and can sometimes be passed down or remain present through blood” she said, looking back down at her book. “Was there something in particular you were looking for?” He swallowed. It was now or never. “Yeah um… have you ever heard of a hidden kiss?” She blushed and then closed her book. “I see you’ve discovered my little secret. Although, I guess when it literally stares people in the face it’s not a secret”. He chuckled. “Yeah it’s a bit hard to hide. Luna told me a little about it but what exactly is it?” he asked. “Well, a hidden kiss isn’t necessarily magic in origin. I know some muggles who have it. It’s a special kiss that’s reserved for the one the bearer of the kiss loves the most or for an important moment.” “What do you mean by important moment?” She sighed. “Well, for example say someone you love is dying or has just died. If you give them your hidden kiss, it can revive them and bring them back to you. Even if you don’t have romantic feelings for someone, the kiss will still work if you feel a great amount of love for them”. “How did you get yours?” Harry asked. “I’m not sure. I was orphaned as a baby and and when I was brought to the orphanage I already had it. I’m guessing my mother gave it to me but I don’t think I’ll ever know.” She looked down at the desk and fidgeted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know…but I understand” Harry said. She looked up at him and smiled slightly. “I know. Let’s just keep this and the kiss our little secret.” He nodded. “Do you want to come back to the common room and hang out with me Ron and Hermione?” he asked, feeling badly that he had made her sad. “Yeah, I’d like that” she said.

When the two entered the common room, there were eruptions of laughter. Fred and George Weasley were telling jokes and simply being themselves; and the whole room was cracking up. “I guess we’re late to the party” Harry joked. “Harry!” the twins said in synch. “And you’ve brought a new friend. Who’s this?” Fred asked. “Fred, this is Y/N”. “Nice to meet you” she said with a bright smile. Fred froze. Her smile was something out of this world. Harry and Y/N made eye contact and laughed. Harry walked away, patting Fred on the back as he went. Y/N laughed again. Fred still hadn’t moved. He was just staring at her. She waved her hand in front of his eyes. “Hello? Earth to Fred…” He snapped out of his daze. “Oh sorry, hi there it’s nice to meet you. Come join us” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the couches where most of her year was gathered. The group was very lively. Everyone was talking and laughing, but Fred couldn’t focus on them. He only saw her. It was like everyone else had disappeared and there was only the two of them. She hadn’t noticed his staring. She was telling a story about the time she thought she was feeding a stray cat that turned out to be McGonagall. She had never been this out going before, but she loved it.

The group started to thin as people left to go to bed until there was only Y/N, Fred, George, and Harry left downstairs. Harry was saying something to Y/N about Charms class for tomorrow when Fred whispered in George’s ear. “Hey can you take Harry and go upstairs. I want to talk to Y/N alone for a bit” he said. “Yeah sure, so long as you can actually get yourself to speak! I saw you earlier, that was embarrassing” George joked. Fred pushed him slightly as George got up. “Alright Harry, come on. Even the chosen one has to sleep” George said. “Oh shut up George! See you tomorrow Y/N” he said, getting up from the floor. “Night George, night Harry” she said. The two boys climbed the stairs and left Fred alone with Y/N. “You were quite popular tonight” Fred said, scooting closer to her. “I know right, it was so weird. I don’t think half of those people even knew I existed until tonight. I had a lot of fun though.” She smiled at him. Before he could think it through, he found himself reaching out and touching her face. Specifically, he grazed his thumb over the left corner of her lips. She held her breath. “Oh sorry, I don’t know why I did that” he said, retracting his hand. “You would be surprised how much that happens or almost happens to me” she said. He smiled slightly, not feeling as self conscious about his actions. “Maybe they can’t help themselves because you are so beautiful” he said. She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. “I have to ask-” he started. She chuckled and shook her head. “Yes there is something in the corner of my mouth. I’ll tell you what it is someday.” She cupped Fred’s face with one hand and placed a light kiss on his cheek. She stood up from the couch and made her way to the stairs. She stopped at the bottom and turned back to face Fred’s blushing face. “Goodnight Fred”. Fred turned back to face the fire and smiled. There was something different about this girl. Something that drew him in and made him feel like everything would be alright.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N got closer to the Weasley twins, Fred especially. What had previously been a chaotic duo, became a slightly less chaotic trio. Y/N balanced Fred and George out perfectly. She liked to follow rules and managed to use her good standing with the Professor’s to get the two out of trouble multiple times. Fred and George managed to get Y/N to let loose and have more fun. “I wish we had all become friends sooner, I feel like I am finally the best version of myself and it’s all thanks to you guys” she said one day, pulling them in for a hug. “We love our little stick in the mud” Fred joked. She scoffed and laughed as she pushed him. “How dare you I am not a stick in the mud, George back me up here!” she said. “This is between you two, I’m getting out of here before it gets ugly” he joked, walking away. “There’s only one way for you to prove you aren’t a stick in the mud any more.” Fred said, taking a step closer to her. “Oh yeah and what’s that?” she asked, matching his step. “You agree to go on a date with me where we forget about rules and do whatever we want”. Her jaw dropped and she pretended to look around in awe at a fake audience. “Oh my goodness did the Fred Weasley just ask me on a date?” she joked. “Yes he did” Fred replied, taking another step closer to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. “Then I accept” she said. One date turned into two, turned into five, turned into a loving relationship still going strong two years later. Y/N was certain that Fred was the person she would spend the rest of her life with.

As the inevitability of a war crept up on the wizarding world, Fred and Y/N felt like their relationship was the only thing that was stable. With Snape as Headmaster of Hogwarts and Fred not there with her, Y/N felt hopeless most days. That is, until, the day Harry Potter returned. When the trio climbed out of the portrait hole behind Neville, Y/N could barely contain her happiness. This was something to hold onto. This happiness only grew when McGonagall got rid of Snape, and the Order of the Phoenix entered the Great Hall. As soon as they could, Fred and Y/N ran to each other and embraced. Fred held her so tightly she thought she might pass out, but it would be worth it. To have the man she loved back by her side was all she wanted. This reunion was cut short however, preparations had to be made and a war had to be fought. Y/N fought harder than she ever had. The battle was brutal. When the break in the fighting came, she ran to the Great Hall to find Fred. And find him she did, lying dead on a stretcher.

When George saw her approach, he ran to her and hugged her close. “He’s gone Y/N, what are we going to do?” he sobbed. She knew what she was going to do. She pulled herself out of the hug and ran towards Fred’s body. “Everybody stand back” she said as she lowered herself down next to him. “Darling I’m sorry but he’s gone, there’s nothing we can do” Molly Weasley said, tears streaming down her face. She looked up at her. “Trust me” she said. Y/N turned back to Fred and whispered in his ear. “This is, and always will be yours”. She then pressed her hidden kiss to his lips, giving him all the power she could muster. Everyone couldn’t believe what happened next.Their lips, still locked together, began to glow slightly. The wind outside the Great Hall picked up suddenly. Everyone was looking around trying to figure out what was causing this. She pulled away slowly and laid on his chest holding him as closely as she could, her eyes squeezed shut. The wind whooshed into the room and began to swirl around Fred. It was so forceful people had to hold onto each other to stop from blowing away. Fred’s colorless skin began to turn pink. Just as suddenly as it had begun, the wind disappeared. Everyone held their breath. “Come back” Y/N whispered. Then, she felt a small rise from his chest. She opened her eyes and sat up slowly, staring at Fred. His eyes fluttered open. “Hello love, miss me?” he said. She exhaled happily and hugged him closely as he sat up a bit. The family was amazed. They rushed in and all hugged Fred, crying now of joy and not sadness. “What was that?” Ron asked from the hug. “That, was her hidden kiss” Harry replied knowingly.

#harry potter x reader #platonic!harrypotter #fred weasley x reader #harry potter au #fred weasley au #fred weasley imagine #hogwarts #gryffindor!reader #gryffindor #george weasley #ron weasley #hermione granger #neville longbottom #freds not dead #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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steve0discusses · 4 years ago

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Yugioh S5 Ep 20: Yugi’s Senshi Outfit

So I’ve been doing a lot of work, and I haven’t looked at the blog for a hot minute and when I finally checked back in to do these posts I noticed something on my tumblr was just blowing up. I got all excited thinking “oh shoot, Did I draw something right??” and instead, it was a random post I made about the bootspants from season 1. Three years later, resurrected from the grave and covered in...thousands of notes? I don’t understand how this website works.

Anyways, the comments are mostly good, but a little bit wild. A lot of people seem to think I would know what Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure is, when I’m an adult who is still watching the first 5 seasons of Yugioh. (I will never have time to watch Jojo,) and then some other people started talking about Actual Card Mechanics that went...completely beyond my comprehension. But then there was one person. One person who said one thing, and brought it all together.

Poots.

The boots that are pants.

Poots.

I can’t believe I looked at all the different combinations, but a Poots never crossed my brain.

It is so perfect, so cathartic, although it took 3 years to get there.

Poots.

Anyways, we’re in S5 and unfortunately not in poots anymore, Yugi is now dressed in a tupperware container from hell and they have wandered into a desert. On cue, Grandpa has an injury, but at least this time it’s not his ass.

You know how there’s artists who do hyper-realistic versions of pokemon monsters with detailed bone structure and muscle anatomy? I dare them to look at this orb and tell me how the hell it has wings. Like go ahead and try and pin a spine down on that thing. I’ll wait.

(read more under the cut)

So Joey decides to sprint down this endless desert with just boundless positivity.

Over the edge of this sand dune is a whole bunch of huts,just random civilization out in the middle of no where.

One girl walks over and it’s a look.

She’s really the only one here who can talk, and she just seems...so incredibly bored to be here. A whole lot of Wednesday Addams energy. She leads them into a hut where an old guy pulls a scroll out of blue fire. As you do.

Again, this arc should have been a video game, because while it’s something to get the player interested if there’s some riddle they have to solve to progress, when you’re watching a TV show, it’s not like I’m the one solving the riddle. The format is honestly one of the downers of this arc, tbh.

It has strong “I played a D+D sesh and made a webcomic out of it vibe” and I know I just called out like half of you, but listen, I will not take it back.

This episode, our gimmick is some asshole is going to be yelling at us from the other end of the map, just shouting in the background for the entirety of the episode like that tangible human skull meme.

Then Wednesday Addams hands over yet another MacGuffin because why not?

Tea can twin it up with Yugi now. Her necklace doesn’t seem haunted, but it’s only a matter of time. (also her necklace looks so freakin terrible, we’ll see it later and I’ll have a lot more to say because wtf it looks like some sort of polly pocket.)

I’m not 100% that the voice that shouts at us from the end of the hall this episode is Mokuba’s voice actress. But I’m 99% positive it is, or Mokuba’s voice is just really that type of vibe.

Stuff happens, and it felt like card duel stuff, so I’m gonna skip over the part where they pulled out their duel monsters one by one, since the fight was pointless anyway because the worms can turn you into stone. So Yugi and Pharaoh decide to have a chat about it because their plan is clearly not working.

This is when Pharaoh has a vivid lucid daydream, which seems like something that would have been more convenient before he ended up turning into stone on the floor of some desert. But, hallucinations never come when they’re convenient on this show. They usually come during card games, tbh.

Imagine with me that you’re dreaming of like...an old ass greek guy who is 99% Alexander the Great. Imagine he tells you to fuse with a sentient paper card that you already carry around in a weird capsule.

Please

For the love of all that is holy

Do not think about what it means to fuse with the Dark Magician.

Dark Magician is...he “exists” but he’s like not even a person. There seem to be whole fleets of dark Magicians, which are all the same guy, just cloned, right? Or maybe they’re a family? Or like...I don’t freakin know. Like they’re all hanging out together in some card dimension so it’d be more like fusing with the guy who dresses like Barney the dinosaur instead of actually Barney. Like he’s more of like a concept than a dude, but apparently you can just introduce him to your...whatever this armor is supposed to be, and Dark Magician turns into a Super Suit.

I want to express my thanks to the Yugioh team for not putting Yami in his underoos. Hell, they didn’t even take off his jacket. I do not know what art directer ok’d this for animation and said “yeah, this won’t kills us if we animate it.” but that is a hell ton of lines and design right there. Yeah they have 3d, and probably had to 3d that staff...but that doesn’t mean you don’t end up drawing it, in the end--you still have to draw over your 3d. You still have to draw literally everything.

Anyway, when we get to the eye of the storm. The secret to getting there was that you have to fly, which again--3/5 of these guys already have a monster that can fly. We can finally tell the voice at the end of the hall to stop yelling because it’s really bothering all the townspeople, and then move on with the quest.

Everyone else was stone during this. So when they un-petrified they kinda looked over at Yugi and were like “how freakin long was I out???”

But youknow, Yugi’s 2 people, so it’s fine. So long as you don’t get down to the third bastard still sitting around in there.

After this, our NPCs vanish, and the show pushes us directly forward. No time for them to piss off a land turtle or set a bunch of wolves on fire. Just get out of the desert and freakin go.

I’m just so bothered by this random ass huge chunky necklace.

It’s like the size of your freakin fist. And it’s just...a pentagon. Congrats Tea, you have a fake ass plastic necklace. I guess it’s so that when we’re far away we can still see it on her chest but like...This show loves huge ass necklaces, and they’re all basic ass shapes. We got a pyramid, the Kaiba’s wear squares, Bakura wears a circle with kind of phallic bits hanging off of it and this is just...it’s literally just a pentagon.

I guess Ishizu wore a wadjet and Duke has an indecipherable clown as his necklace. But man...the Yugioh necklace game is just a lot of shapes.

And so we continue on with this filler arc, which is also a pokemon arc, and even secretly has a Sailor Moon arc just stuffed in there for funsies. This arc is weird.

Also, I brought up the human skull so I legally have to post this.

youtube

Anyway, here’s a link to read these in chrono order, in case you just got here: https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

And I’m off to drink a bin of ice water because it is 5 billion degrees right now in this house.

#ygo #yugioh #yu gi oh #episode recap #photo recap #S5 #Ep 20 #yugi muto #yami #grandpa muto #tea gardner #and her new accessory #tristan taylor #joey wheeler #and that time that Yami fused with dark magician and we all acted like that wasn't extremely weird

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theboyzuniverse · 4 years ago

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Let's Dance

It has been the most wonderful experience working with The Boyz and their company. As soon as you graduated dance school you were lucky enough to land a job almost immediately. The pay isn't too much yet but it helps you get by, and you have the most amazing people to work with, everyone is friendly and respectful. The best part about your job, however, was the boys. Watching them work hard, slowly succeeding, and celebrating the little achievements. They were a big part of your life, and the reason you got to work everyday, you loved their humble and playful vibe. Most of all of course, you enjoyed dancing with them, and watching them dance.

Working on the choreography for 'Stealer' had been a fun time. It was by far the sexiest concept that the team had done, the group was becoming more well-known, and everyone enjoyed themselves. It amazed you how much they suited the concept because they had the softest personalities.

Every member is very attractive and talented, but you always had a soft spot for Sangyeon. You admired his leadership and how he sometimes acted as a secondary parent to them, but at times he would still goof around and be silly with them. He had a the brightest smile, was always polite and friendly to every one of the staff, it also helped that he was hella attractive. What didn't help was how fast your heart would beat every time his part would arrive for 'Stealer'.

"Are you drooling again? Why don't you just tell him straight out how much you're in love with him?"

You blushed red as your roommate and close friend Jun called you out. He was also a dancer and you both had been scouted by the company at the same time.

"Could you be a little more subtle? I don't wanna get in trouble." You hissed back.

"Well you couldn't be more obvious with your little heart eyes."

You rolled your eyes and playfully hit him.

"I just... Its complicated."

"What, because he's an idol?"

"Partly, but more so because I don't think the company would really like it, and I can't afford to lose this job."

"What? Not even for love?" Jun feigned shock and you rolled your eyes again, he always teased you but he also always made life a little more fun.

Jun and you, along with his girlfriend of two years shared a two-room apartment. Since the rent was split three ways, it made life financially more comfortable, so it was a win-win for everyone. If they ever broke-up it would be another story, but you were pretty sure they could get married soon. However, you wished it wouldn't be too soon, at least not until you could afford your own apartment.

"Do you think he could be interested though, even a little?" You asked.

"You know my answer," He sighed.

"Well, if we go by your logic, it would pretty much mean all of them are interested because they're all super sweet."

"Believe what you want, but Sangyeon doesn't give compliments and praises to the rest of us as much as he does you."

You always noticed it a little too, the sweet heartfelt compliments and encouragements he would send your way. Of course he always politely thanked all the staff but he somehow made you feel like you were a little more special, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe quite yet. It felt too unreal that he could actually like you back.

"Come on, they're having a final rehearsal before D-day."

You follow the rest of the staff to the bigger rehearsal room. All the boys were already at the center of the room, and obviously as you take a seat your eyes are immediately fixed on Sangyeon. The music starts and you watch closely, he has two main parts and you can't help thinking that both are just as seductive. The first part was when he stood with his back to the crowd, moved side to side with a smooth shoulder dance as he looked back seductively. The second part was when your heart almost jumped out of your chest because you were so sure he was looking straight into your eyes as he pulled himself forward. Luckily, no one else had noticed.

After they did the whole choreography two more times, everyone was free to do their own things as official work was done until D-day. You just sat there on the floor, debating whether to go home or not. If you go home, you would either just go to sleep or watch a movie and eat delivery food alone in your room. If you stay, you'd still be alone as everyone else would go home, but you'd be more productive. You somehow didn't feel like going home just then, Jun and his girlfriend would also appreciate having the apartment to themselves for a while even though they wouldn't admit it.

"You coming home?"

"No, I'll just stay for a while."

"Okay, don't be out too late though."

"Yup."

"See you at home."

Everyone left one by one and you waited for them to all be gone until you actually started to move. You loved having the practice room to yourself, being alone with your thoughts and being able to express the music with your body. Playing 'Heroine' by Sunmi, you started to dance according to a choreography that you made yourself. Having the freedom to express yourself while nobody's watching gave you a kind of thrill that kept you energetic. The song was ending when the door opened to a smiling Sangyeon, looking totally happy and amazed at what he just saw.

"Oppa!" You said startled.

"What the heck, that was amazing!"

You blushed shy and embarrassed, looking at the ground.

"Did you see the whole thing?"

"Yeah, I forgot my phone and I came back to get it, but I saw you started dancing and I was afraid to interrupt you."

"Ah, that's so embarrassing, you should've told me." You whined.

"That was nothing to be ashamed of." He told you as he held your shoulders with both hands. "Be more confident Y/N."

Sangyeon goes to the end of the room, puts down his bag and removes his sweatshirt and cap, and starts the music. 'Stealer' starts playing and your heart skips a beat as he walks towards you.

"Let's dance." He tells you, "Together."

At first you think of refusing but instead you just nod and follow him. You've been rehearsing with them so you already know the whole choreography. The two of you dance side by side, and he does little improv moves so it looks better since only the two of you are dancing instead of a group. You follow what he does. Your favorite Sangyeon part comes on and you get excited over it, the excitement turns to a mini heart attack when his second part comes on and he maintains eye contact with you through the mirror. Overwhelmed, you just stop in your tracks and sit on the floor with your back against the wall. He stops too and comes and sits next to you before the song is done.

"Its been a while since I've wanted to have some time alone with you," Sangyeon starts talking, and you hold in your breath. "You do know that I like you right?"

You breathe out the air you were holding in and slowly answer, "No... I didn't know."

He looks at you a surprised, "I always thought I made it pretty clear, and the members are always teasing me."

"I've thought about it, but I just never believed it would be possible." You reply.

"So that means you like me too."

You nodded once, too overwhelmed by what was happening. He takes your hand and holds it, drawing circles with the other hand.

"You always underestimate yourself, your talent and how beautiful you are." You felt like your chest was gonna explode with how fast your heart was beating. "I'm sorry Y/N, I should've just been clear and straightforward with my feelings."

"What? No, its not something to be apologetic about."

You bravely put your head on his shoulder, and you both stay that way for a while. Then he turns to you to go in for a kiss. You try your best to remain calm as he draws closer and you close your eyes. His lips touch yours as he softly cups your face, then deepens the kiss as he turns himself to face you. You don't know if its because you haven't had a kiss for so long but it gets you hot and turned on in no time. Sangyeon breaks the kiss as he connects both your foreheads, you both breathe heavily as the sexual tension gets undeniably high.

The whole place is quiet except for the sounds of your breathing. Sangyeon pulls you onto his lap, facing each other, bodies close, he pulls you in for another kiss. You reach out and run your hands through his hair, lightly grinding against him as he moans a little.

"Sh*t," He mutters softly as he breaks the kiss again, you could feel both of your heart beats racing.

You get off of his lap shy about the steamy make out session, then he stares at you with the same intensity as he did at the final rehearsal. Seeing it close up makes you breathless. He reaches for you and pulls you back on his lap, and starts nuzzling his face on your neck and giving you kisses. You could feel him hardening as you grind yourself against him, and you moaned as he left hickeys on your neck.

"Take it off," You tell him lightly tugging at his shirt.

"Getting impatient are we?" He smirks.

You blush and look down as he removes his shirt, softly running your fingers down his abs. Sangyeon inserts his thumbs in the waist of your pants, and slowly pulls them down to remove them. You dared not say anything, afraid that you would wake up and find out it was all just a dream.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" He asked.

You nodded. It was what you've always wanted, no turning back.

Sangyeon pulls down his pants a little, taking it out his length and pumps it a few times. You position yourself as you slowly slide it in. It hurts more than you thought it would so your eyes get teary, he wipes away the single tear with his thumb and pulls you in for a kiss. You're thankful for how gentle he is with you. Once you get a little used to him you start riding him, and an immense pleasure fills you up. He groans a little and that turns you on more as you get bolder and rougher, moving your hips against his. He removes your shirt and unclasps your bra, sucking on one breast as he squeezes the other. To add to all the pleasure you were feeling at that moment he starts rubbing your clit with one hand, you whimper a little. If you could die from immense pleasure this was it, yet you never felt more alive.

"Look at me," He commands you as he stops sucking on your breasts.

You look at him shy, but not embarrassed. He pulls in for another kiss, this time his hands on your neck. He's not really choking you but he put a little pressure on it and you could tell he was almost coming, you could feel yourself getting nearer too. Soon after one last kiss you feel your orgasm wash over you, a type of euphoria engulfs you. Sangyeon could tell from your moans. He pulls you close connecting his lips with your neck, and you grind a few more times as he came soon after.

You both breathe heavily recollecting your senses, and you rest your foreheads against each other. You smile at how soft he looked right after what you both had done, and stay that way for a while, without him pulling out.

"We should get dressed," You tell him.

He nods, as you both get up. You somehow feel a little cold and empty as you disconnect from his body. He looks at you and sees your disappointed face, giving you a peck on your lips.

"Will you go on a date with me tomorrow?'

"Yes, of course." You smile instantly.

The two of you get dressed quickly and gather your things to head out. Right before you were about to turn off the lights a breathless Eric rushes inside.

"Wait wait wait, I forgot my phone." He says as you and Sangyeon stare at him. "What?"

You just keep staring at him, shocked that you and Sangyeon had done it without locking the door. You then turn to Sangyeon about to say something when he cuts you off.

"Let's go home Eric."

"Wait, why are you guys so awkward? Did you finally tell her? What happened between you guys?" He shouts over Sangyeon pushing him out the door.

You giggle at how silly he was being. Sangyeon turns around before going out the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow at 8?"

"Okay,"

He winks at you as he leaves, and your insides do a little dance. You couldn't feel any more happier and content at that moment.

#lee sangyeon #sangyeon #the boyz #the boyz sangyeon #the boyz smut #kpop smut #tbz smut #tbz sangyeon #the boyz imagines #the boyz oneshots #oneshot #smut oneshot

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kirythestitchwitch · 4 years ago

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Til I Tasted You: Chapter 2

Bonnie talks Caroline into trying out a "To Find A Mate" spell. The traveling through time part was completely unexpected, as was who the spell reveals. Chapter One on AO3

Uh hi so, this is like three years later! I got inspiration and like was well, I might as well do that sequel everyone asked for!

Thank you @cupcakemolotov and @certifiedceraunophile for your advice and encouragement!

Tags: Time Travel, Mates, Woodsy Makeouts, Magical Accidents, Human Klaus Mikaelson, Vampire Caroline Forbes, things do not go as planned, Werewolf Mates, this isn't a slow burn this is two idiots , tanding around on fire, very tense conversations on porches, You ever just YEARN?, it's yearning hours, Hybrid Klaus Mikaelson, Yeah the 'does he find out?' chapter is here

Caroline parked her car in front of the house and breathed for a minute in the dark, forehead pressed to the steering wheel. She'd had to haltingly explain to Bonnie while wrapped in her comforter what happened.

Embarrassed, horrified, and intrigued in equal measure, Bonnie had seemed to understand what she meant when she tried to explain the way touching him had felt. “It’s the mate bond. It how they… know,” she said awkwardly, gesturing to one of the books still on the floor.

A horrible thought occurred to Caroline. “So you knew. You knew that Tyler wasn’t, because we didn’t...” she trailed off, but Bonnie seemed to understand.

“I knew,” her friend nodded guiltily. “I thought maybe someone new might help, after he...” She bit her lip, obviously thinking how badly that had backfired.

"Damon's going to want to use this," her friend had whispered. And not for the first time, Caroline wondered how much of herself she had to give up for Elena’s happiness. Klaus wasn’t good, he wasn’t kind, but according to very adamant magic, he was hers. And he’d tried to kill her twice.

She could deal with this tomorrow, she thought, finally climbing out of the car. First period history tests didn’t care that your world had been upended, they only cared about essay questions about the political tensions of France in 1789. As she set her foot on the top porch step, Klaus’ voice came out of the dark. “Having a pleasant evening, Caroline?” Her head snapped up.

Klaus leaned casually in the shadow of one of the porch posts, like showing up unannounced at 9pm when she was in a crisis didn't make him a big creepy weirdo. His eyes perused her appearance before refocusing on her face. Something a little like hope, like satisfaction, dawned on his face. "Leave something in the woods?"

Caroline inhaled sharply. Under Bonnie's borrowed shirt she could still feel echoes of his hands gripping her close, could still taste him when she licked her lips, and it felt like the most searing of damnations to still somehow want him. She scoffed anyway. "Did everyone go hiking today? I must have missed the invite."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "That is not the yellow shirt you were wearing this morning. Rebekah was quite... detailed."

She looked away, flush crawling up her cheeks in mortification. "I guess it was too much to hope you had forgotten?" Perversely, desperately, she had wanted him to have remembered.

Klaus didn't seem to breathe and then with a quick step he erased the concept of personal space. "If you think I have forgotten a single moment of what it felt like to touch you in all the time I have had to contemplate what you mean to me, you have not been paying attention." He lifted his hand and with careful fingers touched one of her curls as one touches something precious and burning.

She swatted his hand away. "I think I've been paying attention every time you tried to kill me, Klaus!"

"Do tell," he said neutrally, rubbing his fingertips against his thumb before dropping his hand.

Crossing her arms, she glared at him. This close to him the urge to reach for him was prickling under her palms again and that way lay madness. “You kidnapped me and tried to use me in your murdery hybrid ritual,” she said.

His fingers twitched again, and he shoved them in his pockets. “Yes, I can see how having you and my hybrid safely tucked away from the Salvatore’s incompetence for an afternoon was actually mistaken for an attempt on your life,” he said mildly.

“They snapped my neck and manacled me to a wall, and I was supposed to think ‘Ah, Klaus is trying to save my life, of course, that’s completely obvious!’”

Klaus lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “It seemed expedient at the time.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “Okay, then please explain making Tyler bite me over a pissing contest you had with Stefan.”

For the first time, Klaus looked away, lips pressed firmly together. “There was never a moment where I would have let you die.”

“Hey no, you don’t get to pull that ‘You were never in any danger’ crap,” she snapped. “I was terrified and I was dying, and you...” You made me want to start living again, was what she couldn’t say.

“He called you his girlfriend,” Klaus’s golden rimmed gaze practically collided with hers with a fury she could feel like radiant heat on her skin. “His girlfriend, like such an infantilizing word could describe what you could be to someone, like you were his. I gave him the chance to prove me wrong, to show me he could defy me for your sake. He failed.”

It took a moment for Caroline to speak again. “You had him bite me because you were jealous?” she asked, incredulously.

Klaus shifted his weight, and then clenched his jaw, gold fading from his eyes. “As if I could be jealous of a boy who has no concept of what it is like to touch the sun and then spend a millennium looking for daylight in every strangers’ face.” His arms bunched as he held himself still, and Caroline remembered what they felt like under her hands, warmth and crystal clear belonging humming at her fingertips.

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the swooping feeling in her stomach. “You can’t just… you can’t just say things like that when I’m furious with you,” she said looking back at him, frustrated, mad, and horribly, undeniably charmed.

Giving her ample time to move, Klaus leaned in slowly until his breath feathered against her face. “When you left me in that forest,” He said lowly, “It was with a name, a bit of fabric, and a yearning I had no reference for. I went home and I died that night, and days later when the wolf came clawing out of me, I awoke tied to a post with the bone deep knowledge of what I had gained and what I had lost.” He licked his lips and she could hardly breathe.

“For a thousand years you stayed lost, and I kept your shirt until time unwound it and the faintest scraps remained. So do not presume to tell me that Tyler has something for me to be jealous of when he fled at the first hint of shame.” Very carefully he took a step back, hands sliding from his pockets to clasp behind his back, as if those few precious inches would make the difference.

Caroline dug her nails into her arms and held onto her anger with both fists. “Klaus, you’ve done… so many terrible things since you came into our lives and you, you did them knowing who I was. You killed Elena, you killed Jenna, you tortured Stefan, you turned Tyler into a minion, and… me. You hurt me.” Mulishly, she set her jaw against the gnawing pit behind her breast bone. “Just because I did some dumb spell that says we’re-” She cut herself off, unable to erase or fit the enormity of time travel into the universe’s neon sign sized hint that they were mates.

More evenly she said, "You chose to do those things and you didn't choose me."

Something cracked open behind his eyes, a yearning of a thousand years laid bare. Voice low and rough, he said, "And if I did? If I did choose you? Would my mate also choose me?" He watched her so carefully, this monster that even death didn't want, and she remembered the way he had barely touched her, not so long ago in her bed.

Carefully, Caroline stepped close, unclenching fingers, unwinding her arms. Klaus went hunter still, waiting while she brought a hand up to his face and deliberately cupped his cheek. The pleasurable rush this time was instantaneous, honey-gold and thick through her veins, leaping skin to skin with a roar of here here here is what I was looking for. With a shudder, Klaus closed his eyes and leaned into her palm, breathed in the scent of her pulse, lips pressed to the base of her thumb. It was relief, it was torture, it was like putting out a hearthfire by burning down the house.

This was a mistake, a miscalculation. The ache of arousal twisted through her, opening a chasm of need in her that didn’t answer to principles or objections, that knew his silver tongue could make better promises on her clit until she begged for his cock. A core deep knowledge that he would deny her nothing she wanted in this and more than she could know to ask for.

Drawing in an unsteady breath (don’t moan don’t moan) she pulled her hand back, the pads of her fingers scraping against the scruff of his face. He didn’t quite follow her hand, letting her go. The wolf in his eyes, he watched her clutch her hands to her chest and it looked like triumph.

“Will it always be like that?” Caroline asked shakily.

Klaus made a considering noise in his throat. “It is said there is some element of intent to it, after a certain point,” he said, the smugness back in his voice. “If it’s what you want.”

She narrowed her eyes, ignoring that rude inner voice that whispered how much she did want. “I guess we’ll see.”

He smiled at her, charm tucked in his dimples as he rocked back on his heels. “I look forward to seeing how I can make things up to you, Caroline.”

And then with a whisper of wind she was alone on her porch, her blood still singing in memory of his heat on her skin.

#my fic #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #mates trope #me constantly: drag him Caroline #klaroline #tvd for ts #klaroline for ts #i had to get out of bed to post this shit bc i forgot before i got in bed

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fruityutas · 5 years ago

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strike to the heart

taglist ~ @puppywritings , @xiaojours , @svchengss , @prettyjaems

part of @du0tine ‘s 21 ways to kill your lover collab

unstable!yangyang x psychologist!reader

not proofread

wc ~ 5k

genre ~ angst, ttiiinnnyyy fluff, thriller

warnings ~ the following writing is FICTION and has very heavy and unsettling themes like murder, suicide, and toxic relationships. if these themes are triggering or otherwise uncomfortable to you, do NOT read this story. there are also themes of religion.

synopsis ~ you were the best of the best, no one could bring an end to your golden career until he came along

note ~ i based yangyang’s personality in this off of his turn back time persona, making him very obviously mentally unstable. the plotline is based loosely off of harley quinn’s origin story, except of course, the reader dies. i also used the concept of purgatory in this story.

i realize that purgatory is apart of various religions, and i hope i made use of it in this story in the way it is intended to be portrayed as. i am not familiar with the subject, as i am non religious and have been for many years, so if i wrote anything that was disrespectful, please let me know and i will educate myself more on the topic. please note that if i do write something disrespectful, i will not be changing the writing in any way, unless necessary, because i feel that changing/erasing the mistake prevents anyone from seeing my growth as a person.

here is the link to the website i used to read up on purgatory -> https://historylists.org/art/9-levels-of-purgatory-dantes-purgatorio.html

your parents always told you to aim for first. probably why you’re here now. you sit in the chair, watching your life play on what seems to be a screen. you can’t tell either way, everything is stark white and blends into one. the scenes are the only thing providing color to your eyes. are you dreaming? no, no that can’t be. the last thing you remember is…pain. and betrayal. how could he do this?

he was a fucking criminal. he had no true love for you, you were his final act. how could you have been so naive? every thought came too fast, it made your head hurt. a noise brought you out of your thoughts. a tall man stood off to the side of the screen. his features were sharp, and he looked angelic. “you must be y/n. you must also be wondering where you are.” you struggle to find your voice, so you nod at the man. he gives a sympathetic smile and strolls over to you.

“you’re in purgatory. well, this is the judgment room. here your memories are played and the most influential ones are used to go to their corresponding terraces.”

“do i pick them out?” he shakes his head.

“no, the council does that. you just sit and watch.” you shift in your chair, the hard material uncomfortable against your skin. “don’t worry, i’ll be here while it happens. you can call me sicheng.” his voice was hypnotizing, calming your mind. you turned back to the screen, and what you assumed to be the first memory started to play.

a burst of yelling snaps you from your thoughts. looks like we have a new patient. it was like this everytime a new patient arrived. yelling, taunting, sometimes as far as physical assault. it was like the right of passage for ‘newbies’ as the currents like to call them. you leave your office to peek downstairs. this one is surrounded by four guards. that’s unusual. two guards was standard, why does this patient need four? a danger to himself and others i assume. i should ask joy if i can take him. you hadn’t had a new patient in months, and all your others were making such progress they moved to a new unit. one of your patients, named chittaphon, had been released back into society. you were one of the best, even at such a young age.

“joy! have you assigned the new patient to anyone yet? i’d like to have him.” you plopped yourself onto the couch in her office. her soft laugh brought you comfort.

“of course you can have him, i was probably going to ask you anyway. you haven’t been busy with any others lately. yukhei is moving to a new unit next week you know. you did good with him, he asked me to tell you thank you.” your heart aches at the thought of yukhei missing you, the boy had become important to you. you would sit and let him talk about his family, his friends, and even his - what he called - soulmate. he would always gush about them and their relationship. you never suspected he could have killed them in such the way he did, or that his ill brain would rewire itself into thinking they were waiting for him to get better and be released from the hospital. the day he found that out was burned in your memory, chairs being thrown and yelling from the entire floor. it broke your heart to see him in such a state, even more when they had to lock him in isolation for a week.

but things change and he got better, and now he’s moving up a unit. more yelling snaps you out of your little thinking session. you and joy peek out her office door to see the new inmate arguing with the guards. you sigh and head down the stairs, as much as joy protests it. one of the guards notices you and tells you to stay back, and that this inmate is dangerous. you shake your head at him and push through to get closer. the inmate didn’t look much older than you, albeit a bit taller than you. he was still yelling at the guards when you came up to him and cleared your throat. he rolls his eyes and turns to you to start yelling, but you shut him down with a stern look at a shake of your head.

“now, now, you don’t want to come in and be the hardass on the first day do you?” he says nothing, but the lack of arguing from him tells you he is agreeing. you tell one of the guards to follow you to his cell. it comes to no one’s surprise that his cell is in the lower level, it’s where all the worst patients stay. the guard that accompanied you stood directly outside the door of the cell, ready for any assistance. the inmate sat down on the cot provided but faced away from you. “are you going to speak to me?” he spares you a small glance, unwavering in intimidation, but it didn’t phase you. his face was young, yet it somehow seemed to be worn and exhausted. you wanted to open him up and see what his troubles came from, to fix him into a model member of society.

“wouldn’t you want me too huh?” his tone was annoyed and sarcastic. you stay collected and just nod at him. “why don’t we start with your name?” he stays silent. “if you don’t want to cooperate that’s perfectly fine but just know i’m the only one you can talk to if you want out of here.” you stand up and leave the cell, knowing that even though it didn’t look like it, progress was made. your last statement would sit with him until the next time you visit him, and he would talk eventually.

the screen fades away and into a new image. the only thing on the screen is the word ‘stubborn.’ you are confused as to what it means. sicheng makes his way over to you, his long legs making the distance short. “it corresponds to the first level of purgatory, stubbornness. although it wasn’t you who was being the most stubborn, it seems.” he snaps his fingers and a seat appears for him to sit. the screen lights up again and another memory begins to play.

“what do you mean he wants to see me? i just spoke to him this morning and he refused to say anything?” joy shrugs her shoulders exasperatedly. you sigh and make your way towards the lower level. the guard at the security door greets you with a nod of the head before letting you in. the inmate’s cell was at the end of the hall, dimly lit and dingey, with a slight smell of mildew. the underground location made for cold air and small windows, so there was never enough light in the place. as you made your way to your patient’s cell, a few of the other inmates down there whistled at you. they whooped and hollered to your dismay, bringing unwanted attention. you recognized one of them, guanheng was his name. he had been a patient of joy’s before she was promoted to her managerial position. no one else wanted to take him on, so they sent him down here to rot. you had expressed the idea of taking him, but joy wouldn’t have it. she simply said he was too unstable for anyone, and deserved to be down there. you disagree with her to this day, but she is still your superior and you can’t just go breaking rules just for your liking.

you knocked on the door to the cell, and a gruff “come in” came from the other side. entering the cell, you saw everything in disarray. “now, why is the cell in this condition?” he huffs and crosses his arms, almost in a cute way. you shake your head and continue in, shutting the door behind you. “are you going to tell me your name? i think it would help me connect better with you.” he looks at you with a blank stare. you don’t change your facial expression, remaining stoney faced. he sighs and starts muttering to himself, as if he was arguing with someone, before looking back up at you and finally speaking. “yangyang. at least thats what i’ve been told.” you hum lightly before asking him a few more questions.

“is it alright if i call you yangyang?” “yes” “alrightly then, do you remember anything from yesterday?” he ponders for a moment, his face going through a group of different expressions before he looks back to you. “i only know that i woke up and felt like hurting someone. but i can’t remember who or why. do you have any pens?” the last question catches you off guard. you hand him an extra pen from your coat pocket. he takes it eagerly and looks to your clipboard with expectant eyes. you tear a blank piece of paper from the back and hand it over. he immediately draws nonsense doodles, the paper quickly being filled. when he fills it, he flips it over to do the other side. “you can keep asking me things, you know. i like to draw, though i don’t know what. the other voice tells me to just make lines and things.” you’re jotting down notes when all of a sudden he throws the pen at you. it hits you square in the head, and you look up at him in surprise. he starts giggling and throws the crumpled paper at you. you remain calm as this can be a common occurrence among patients. his giggles become… unsettling very quickly, the tone and manner of them turning to a deeper octave. you slowly reach into your pocket to grab the help button, but you don’t press it just yet. yangyang stops his giggling and it becomes muttering. his words are difficult to make out, but you pick out a few, ‘kill’, ‘why’, and ‘forget’. you jot them down along with a note stating he was mumbling them in sentences that were not understood. “yangyang, are you hearing anything? do you know the other voice’s name if they have one?” he peeks out of his arms at you nodding. “they tell me that i shouldn’t have forgotten why i killed her.” you had notes on him that his previous institution gave to you, but you wanted to earn his trust by asking various questions. “who did you kill?” you knew he killed his mother, left her body hanging from the porch for everyone to see. the question cause him to tear up a bit. “i, i killed my mother. she just wouldn’t shut up, always nagging me about the house and bills, as if i could help it. she was a bitch.” “mmm, yes. but you loved her still, no?” he nods shakily as if he was unsure. “and did you forget why you killed her that morning?” another nod is sent to you. you keep taking notes on his behaviors.

you end the session on a positive note, telling yangyang that he did good today and that you’d be back tomorrow, but if he needed you to ask.

the screen once again went dark before the word ‘repentance’ appears. sicheng whips a pen-like object from nothing, grabbing your arm harshly to turn you towards him. “now, you might not like this next part but it has to be done. i have to carve five p’s into you somewhere. they aren’t permanent but it still hurts.” you panic slightly, trying to get away from his grasp.

“why?!” his face is stoic and cold, the seriousness setting in. you continue to struggle until he grips your face with vigor, causing you to stop moving. “stop. moving. it has to be done. now, where do you want me to do it?” you just point to your arm and look away as he does it. the pain is searing but bearable. “what is this for?” he makes the pen disappear before clearing his throat to speak. “for each of the sins that lead to your death, there is a ‘p’. the council shows a memory that corresponds to a sin, and you must figure out which one. if you get it right, you move one to the next one until the end, where you are allowed into heaven. if you get them wrong, you have another chance with a different memory. you only get two chances for each sin, though, and if you lose both of them a ‘p’ stays and it’s harder to get the next one correct. if you get more than two sins wrong, you spend 100 years here and then you are banished to hell. so please, be careful and choose wisely.” and with that he turns his attention back to the screen, as do you.

your appointments with yangyang were productive and you got to know him a lot better within the past few days. he hated dogs, they were too noisy and energetic for him. he really wanted to paint and draw all the time, so you gave him a few paint markers to decorate his cell with. when you had your next appointment, the walls were pretty full. he liked the texture of orange peels, he hated the taste. a lot of the things you learned intrigued you, why was his brain wired this way? you needed to dig deeper, and you knew you could. you had many awards and praises from seniors, your ego was swollen from it all. you took pride in your work, and you weren’t exactly humble about it. you would always brag to others about your accomplishments, and sometimes you made it a competition between you and your coworkers. joy was the only one that didn’t pay attention to it, she always let you go on rants about how you accomplished so many things this young.

the door to yangyang’s cell was the same grey color as usual, though on the inside, the room was filled with markings and random drawings the boy did. “yangie? what’s up?” he excitedly jumps from his spot on the bed over to the corner that the sessions took place in. two small chairs and a table were tucked in it, but it was cozy to you. a warm smile took place on your face as you sat in front of him. “well, today i really tried my best to not get angry with anyone like you said, and it worked! all i did was think about what you said to me and it helped so much. no one messed with me either.” there it is, the rush of pride in yourself. your ego is boosted, refilled for the day. you knew he could do it, with your help of course. you were the best in the field. “that is really good to hear, yangyang. i’m glad you remembered what i told you so you could control your emotions.” his hair bounced with each energized nod he gave you. you opened your clipboard and handed him a small stack of blank paper. “this is for you. now you have something clean to draw on again.” he took the papers excitedly.

the rest of the session was yangyang rambling on about how you were the only one helping him and how he really liked seeing you. you observed him and from time to time you’d write notes down on his info sheet. every time he caught you staring, he’d blush and look back at his drawings. a smirk carved into your face, and a wink was all it took for him to turn into a stuttering mess. you left the session that day glowing in confidence and pride.

the screen fades away, and you feel a tingling on your arm where one of the Ps is. sicheng’s voice whispers into your ear, “figure out what sin you just witnessed.” it makes you jump a little, but you quickly regain your composure. all you could think about was yangyang. but deep inside your inner conscious, you knew the sin here wasn’t about him. it was about you. “i have my answer.” sicheng gives you a small nod and when you turn back around, a dark and windy figure stands in front of you. a voice not belonging to you enters your mind. “which sin is it, y/n?” with a shaky voice, and sweating palms, you manage to garble out your answer. “it’s pride. i was prideful in my ways, never backing down from challenges that weren’t meant for me.” the dark figure nods before wisping away. the tingling returns to your arm, and as you look down at it a P swiftly disappears. sicheng’s footsteps bring you back up to the screen, which begins to play a new memory.

the continuous sessions with yangyang proved to be well. his condition was getting better, and he seemed to be taking well to the exercises you gave him. you were on your way to an appointment when joy came up beside you. “have you met with the new doctor yet?” you shake your head. “no, what’s their name? where are they located?” she tries to hide a mischievous smirk, grabbing your arm to stop your walking. “he is absolutely gorgeous! his name is kunhang and he’s actually gonna be on your unit, which means you’re training him since you are the best.” you chuckle at her enthusiasm, she’d always been trying to hook you up with people. she winks at you and runs off, probably to her next appointment. she’d conveniently stopped you in front of yangyang’s cell. you walk inside and see him on his bed pouting.

“what is wrong with you?” his eyes look up at you and shine with the beginnings of tears, worrying you. had the guards or an inmate said something to him? while you’re lost in thought he jumps up and pulls you on the bed with him, his arms wrapped tightly around you. you snap out of it and sit frozen in his arms. the feeling of butterflies in your stomach erupt and you know it’s because of the man in your arms. he lets you go and you stand up to fix your uniform. “what had gotten into you, yangs?” his pouting doesn’t go away and he speaks softly. “who is kunhang?” so that’s what he’s being clingy for. he’s jealous. “he’s a new psychiatrist here. i have to train him.” yangyang didn’t get rid of the pout on his face, and he didn’t let your hand go for the entire session. the jealousy he had even after you told him that nothing was going to happen between you and kunhang was noteworthy, though you didn’t specify why he was jealous on his chart.

the surrounding air had become cold, and you shiver harshly. sicheng sits beside you, tapping impatiently on the table. the shadow figure returns, and before it can speak you do. “the sin was envy. but why did you show me a memory of someone else being envious? i thought this was about my sins.” the figure doesn’t move from its spot. sicheng sighs and throws a stick at the figure, causing it to grunt. “that was unnecessary, sicheng. you are the reason for this sin. you let yangyang get attached to you, causing him to become jealous and protective of you. you may not have committed this sin, but you had the first hand in causing it.” you nod in agreeance, you had let him get close with you. too close, in your opinion, because if you hadn’t you wouldn’t be in this whole situation. it’s a bit ironic, you always told your coworkers to be wary of patients, yet here you are, stuck in purgatory because of one.

in the days leading up to your death, yangyang requested to see you nonstop, and he would ask so many questions about the outside world. what was surrounding the building, how many people were in the city. in hindsight, you should have suspected him to be trying to escape, but your mind was apparently on other things.

the last day you were alive, yangyang requested you only once. it was around eight in the evening, and this was going to be your last trip to his cell, quite literally. “are you ok, yangyang?” he nods and makes his way over to you. he might be younger, but his height is not small. “i’m just fine. but i wanna ask you something.” you nod to let him continue. “i’m planning to leave, and i want you to come with me.” the words come out of him in a hurry, but you catch them. a pit forms in your chest after hearing them. what in the world was he thinking? your job was important, and he still needed the therapy sessions you were giving him. “no, absolutely not. yangyang you can’t leave without proper check out from me and my superior. you know this.” he sighs in annoyance, grabbing your hand and dragging you to sit. “that’s not the type of leaving i meant. i mean we sneak out and never look back. we leave here and head north to my good friend ten’s house. he has this bigass mansion in the middle of nowhere, and we can lie low there for a while before going somewhere else and starting new!” you can’t bring yourself to say anything, the shock of how much he’d thought out this plan sitting heavy on your shoulders. the courage to say something before he thinks you’re agreeing with him bubbles up. “yangyang, under all circumstances, you and i cannot do that. do you know how many force tasks they’d send out for us? how much trouble we’d be in when they caught us? plus, you still need these sessions that i’m doing. the real world is harsh, and doesn’t take kindly to you. i wouldn’t want you or anyone else getting hurt.” his face contorts into sadness at your statement. he pulls you in for a bone-crushing hug, not letting go. “but i thought you loved me, don’t you want us to be happy together?” your blood runs cold at his confession. love was never on the table, the flirting you’d been doing was just to open him up to make it easier to talk. you knew you were taking a risk doing that, but never had you anticipated him to fall in love with you and think it was mutual. you separate yourself from him and walk to the door. “yangyang, are you being serious? you- you don’t actually think i’m in love with you, right?” his face falls, going completely straight. no movement comes from either of you for a good minute, the situation at hand causing hesitance. “you’re not? i just thought… you were.” you scoff at the boy sitting in front of you. “y/n, i don’t think you realize that i’ve already planned for this. we’re gonna have to leave.” you start to argue with him but a flurry of gunshots and screams ring out from all around you. you turn and pull the door open to see patients and guards frantically running about, a breach in the facility causing this. “jesus fucking- yangyang why in the hell would you do this!?” you turn to see him getting up from the bed and gathering a few items. “yangyang!” he doesn’t respond, only grabbing your arm and pulling you along with him. you’re too much in shock to resist the boy, and on top of that he’s definitely stronger than you. the run towards whatever exit he’s taking you to seems surreal. the amount of trouble you’re going to be in for this is astronomical. you can hear the words “you’re fired” repeating in your mind. outside the door is an alleyway that connects the facility to a power plant. it seemed like they’d had a breach too. yangyang really wasn’t lying when he said you’d have to leave to someplace far away. he drags you into the plant and heads for the large vats of chemicals. “yangyang where the hell are you taking us? what are you doing?” he glances over his shoulder at you, a deathly look on his face. “this wouldn’t have been in the plan if you had just done what i needed you to do. now you have to pay the price.” what in the fuck did he mean.

the vats were in sight, glowing and hot from the chemicals in them. your surroundings loud from combat, you’d assumed from runaway patients attacking. yangyang stopped in front of the largest one, looking down in it and smirking. he turns to a very shaken you, giggling like a madman. “i think you know what’s in store for you my love. you betrayed me! you gave me all the signs, and carelessly flirted, acting like you liked me.” tears were pouring down both of your faces, but for different reasons. the end of your life was staring at you, loud and proud, and you knew this. you had many goals in your life, and to see none of them get achieved hurt you. you take one last look at yangyang, who is inching closer. “i’m sorry for making you feel like that. i just hope that in the next life, you’ll be a normal person and get to experience life in a positive perspective.” he doesn’t seem to care, because as soon as he gets close enough to you, he grips your face and leans in. “and now, my love, you leave me with a kiss.” his lips lock with yours for a brief second before he shoves you hard, taking the breath out of you. you fall backwards into the vat, the acidic chemicals eating you. yangyang stares at you as you perish, the smile slowly dropping from his face.

one would think this whole tragedy could be easily resolved, but this was not a villain origin story, it was real life, and you were dead. yangyang knew what he had done was fatal, but make no mistake, you knew it was what he wanted. he did love you, but his brain was not the same as a normal person’s. the wiring was simply not supportive of any form of morals, no right or wrong could be detected. all he knew was that you were in the way of him getting out, and he needed you removed. so he did.

and as reality set in for him, yangyang realized that you were the only one who understood him. you were the one to listen to his problems and not look at him like he was crazy, to help him through the intrusive thoughts, and you did that all while loving him.

he breaks down, dropping to his knees at the harsh reality that you were gone forever, and no longer able to make him happy. the salty tears running down his face provided a blunt sting to the cuts and scrapes adorning his face. his shoulders shook with sorrow and his sobs were melancholic. yangyang can’t even think straight, all his mind is screaming is you. your name, face, your soft hair, warm skin, and the way you laughed at all his stupid jokes. he wants an escape from the voices in his head. the grate walkways that line the perimeter of the vats are loud with yangyang’s manic running. all he wants is freedom from his personal hell, he’s had to deal with people looking down on him all his life, saying that he was never going to be able to be normal, berating him for all the fucked up things he’s done, but never helping him to be a better person, always leaving him to rot in different psych ward cells.

gun. there’s one somewhere.

the one voice in his head that wasn’t screaming made him worry no less than before, but he knew to heed his own advice. it was the only coherent thought at the moment so what’s the harm. yangyang finds himself lost, and begins to get angry until he sees a guard coming his way. attacking him, he easily finds a gun and wrings it from the man’s grip before shooting him dead. the body slumps over and yangyang decides that he’d rather not die next to it. he is far too lost to try and get back to where he pushed you to your timely death, so he just runs until he finds a room. unlocked and unoccupied, he slips in and locks the door behind him.

the leather chair that he sits in is worn and comfortable. the desk has various papers scattered around, and the computer is off. yangyang takes one good look at himself in the reflection of the screen before pulling the trigger.

the judgement room is even colder than before. you sit in the uncomfortable chair, tears streaming down your face and sobs ripping through your chest. sicheng sits, unaffected by your pain. the shadowy figure appears in front of you, so close you can hear whispers of a large multitude floating out of it. “y/n, you must finish the trial. what was the last sin?” you try your damndest to compose yourself, wiping the tears and hiccuping. “i- he was…” “no, y/n. no excuses. what is the sin displayed here?” you didn’t need this figure up your ass about it, the answer was obvious. sighing, you look up at it, seeing it slightly resembles a man. “wrath.” the figure hums in response, moving over to show the screen again. in large font and bold letters, the word “repentance” is shown. “you have passed judgement, and you shall be going to heaven. are there any questions?”

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