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peanutpinet · 2 years

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I'm The Sticker for Your Love - Lee Taeyong (mafia) x fem reader

A/N: herrow!! It's been a while since I did a Taeyong fanfic. Well, almost a year ago when I first became an NCTzen. But recently, I thought of this fanfic where NCT was not only a kpop group but also secretly a mafia organisation to keep all the bad organisations out of sight. I'll explain more in the summary. Also! Should I change all (Y/N) as Zennie for NCT fanfics??

Warning: slight yandere behaviour (not obsessive but I still put it out there), brutality (torture :D), maybe cursing

Summary: you were a close staff with the neos, especially NCT 127 and all of the neos treat you like family. Internally promising so you would never see the dark side of the true world they live in. But one night, you were having a reunion event without realising that one of your ex-classmate was on the top of the neos' wanted list

"Relax hyung, I'm only going to the bathroom for a bit. What's the worse that could happen?" Haechan scoffed as he and the rest of the 127 arrived at the hotel

"Dude, did you forget that our target is literally in this place as well?! What if you run into him in the bathroom or something?" Mark pointed out

"It's just a quick bathroom break. I won't let my guard down" Haechan argued back

"Enough arguing. Just go and come back immediately Haechan" Taeyong commanded and Haechan immediately rushed to the bathroom. Taeyong immediately directed everyone to spread out and be on the lookout for their wanted person.

"Yes, yes, I'm out and on a lookout. No, no one was in the bathroom. Yes, I'm walking arou-" Haechan mentioned

"What?! What is it?! Did you see him?! Haechan?!" Mark demanded

"Hyung, did (Y/N) say that she was having a reunion dinner today?" Haechan suddenly questioned, confusing everyone

"Yeah. She mentioned it was a high school reunion, why?" Taeyong pointed out

"Umm, what's the possibility that the reunion is being held in the same hotel where our target is?" Haechan brought up

"Not that small but not that big either. Wait, is she here?!" Jungwoo questioned

"How about the chances of our target sitting directly across her?" Haechan gulped, knowing that Taeyong is most likely not pleased with his finding

"Haechan. Boys. Change of plan. Haechan. Get her out of there. Jungwoo, Doyoung, get this place on lockdown and call an NCT U unit for backup. Johnny, Yuta, I want that reunion cancelled and make sure that douche is alive. I don't care what state but I want him alive. Taeil, Mark, make sure no one else gets close to that area. Move. NOW" Taeyong commanded as everyone got to work

---------------------------

While the neos were all frantic and calculating every possible scenario so they could keep the casualty at a bare minimum, you were just catching up with your friends whom you haven't seen or even talked to in a long time.

However, you can't help but feel a stare from Jeff that was sitting across you. At first, you thought that it might be because you haven't seen him since high school. But now you're convinced that he has been eyeing you since you came.

To make things more uncomfortable? He started to ask quite personal questions that you wondered if he has always been like this in high school. Feeling uneasy, you excused yourself to get some dessert to make you feel better.

Coming back with a glass of ice cream, you tried to be as friendly as possible in talking with Jeff. Feeling slightly thirsty, you took a chug down your drink when suddenly you felt someone rip the glass out of your hand and shattered on the ground.

A/N: the gaze I would feel Haechan would give

Turning around, you were shocked to see Haechan standing right next to you. His face and attention were directed towards the man across you. You didn't even fail to notice how Haechan was clenching his hands, his gaze looked scarier compared to when someone pissed him off. If looks could kill, you'd be 127 ft underneath the ground right now.

"Hae-Haechan...wh-why are you here? How are you here?" you stuttered. But instead of answering you, Haechan grabbed your things and your wrist

"We're leaving. Let's go" Haechan stated as he was pulling you up, determined to get you away from the scene

But unfortunately for Haechan, Jeff didn't like it and he grabbed your other wrist, keeping you in place. Feeling that you didn't move, Haechan turned his face around and stared at Jeff, the two having a wholeass eye-stare contest.

"Let. Her. Go. I won't ask again" Haechan growled

"Why should I? You were the one that came and ruin our reunion dinner" Jeff growled back, you could feel his grip tighten

"It was a high school reunion. Plus, you ruined it the second you seep something into her drink" Haechan scoffed, shocking you and the rest of your ex-classmates

"Hae-Haechan...is, is that true?!" you question, looking between both men

"Who the hell is he anyways (Y/N)?" Jeff questioned, not batting an eyeball on Haechan

"A better friend than you'll ever be" Haechan stated, getting Jeff's grip off of you and started to walk away from everyone

Just as the two of you started to walk away from the scene, you suddenly heard a gunshot and Haechan immediately put you behind him, facing Jeff that was holding a gun.

"You just had to ruin my fun tonight. Now I'm going to ruin yours" Jeff stated, pointing the gun right towards Haechan

You closed your eyes, hoping that this was all a nightmare that you'll awake from. Right when you heard the gunshot, you could feel Haechan's embrace as he was trying to protect you. But when you opened your eyes and met Haechan's gaze, the both of you seemed to have the same thought because Haechan was completely fine.

When the two of you turned around, you both saw Yuta with a gun and Johnny about to secure Jeff. But unfortunately, the nightmare is not over as there were random men coming out of the room. It was then that everything started to feel like a blur to you. Perhaps it's because of the spiked drink that you drank but maybe it's also because of the sudden change in atmosphere from a high school reunion to a whole outbreak.

"Haechan, get her out of here. NOW" Johnny shouted and immediately Haechan grabbed your shoulders, helping direct you out of the whole mess

As you and Haechan were walking away from the scene, your head started throbbing even more that you started to lose consciousness. Haechan in a slight panic mode tried to talk to you so you would stay awake until he could get you to safety.

It wasn't until you felt a different embrace that you tried to stay awake. But it was mainly the familiar soft soothing calm tone that helped you stay awake.

"You'll be okay. Just stay awake for me a little longer alright, (Y/N)" Taeyong whispered, carrying you from Haechan's hold

You didn't know where Taeyong was taking you but all you know was that all the loud rings and chaos was now far away from your throbbing head. The next thing you remember was being placed on the ground and your hair being held back.

"I need you to puke, can you do that for me (Y/N)?" Taeyong softly asked, holding your hair back

As much as you tried to puke, you just couldn't. Sighing, Taeyong mouthed an apology before he opened your mouth, shoving his fingers to the back of your throat, just enough to make you gag and puke out the spiked drink that you drank.

Once you were done, it didn't take long for you to pass out in Taeyong's arms while he was cleaning up. Sighing once more, he carried you in his arms once more and brought you to his room that he booked with the members so you could rest.

Carrying you out of the bathroom, he saw the rest of his members all in good shape, some blood may be on their suits but nevertheless, they were all alive and barely any scratches on any of them. This is one of the reasons why he would be a bit harsh on them during training. So that they would be capable in whatever situation they're in. To add to his amusement, he saw the person that caused this whole trouble all beaten up, tied up but alive.

With one look, his members knew what to do. Preparing to torment the one that brought all this trouble. The one that hurt you. Because by the end of the night, Taeyong will make sure that this person is taught a lesson or two about hurting someone, especially you. No one will ever get to see the light of day once Taeyong and his members are done with him.

In Taeyong's room, he gently put you on the bed, taking off your shoes and accessories so that you could feel more comfortable. He also went to take off your makeup but during the process, he might've accidentally woken you up.

Taeyong softly told you to not think much and just rest up at the hotel for the night and when you've gotten better, he'll help bring you back home. Nodding, you agree to everything Taeyong told you; mainly because you were in no position to fight or argue. Taeyong then took a T-shirt and sweatpants for you to change into.

After helping you change, Taeyong tucked you into bed and made sure that you were asleep before actually slipping out of the room and finally confront the man that made the whole mess in the first place.

"Rest well (Y/N). I'll be back and you won't even notice that I left" Taeyong whispered, softly kissing your temple before leaving you to rest

Walking down the hall, into the elevator, down the stairs, there was no sign of empathy in Taeyong's eyes. Those soft boba eyes are basically as hard as a bullet. One look and it could be as if you were shot. Can you blame the man? His secret crush was hurt and caught up in this "little" mess. No matter, it'll all be over soon anyways.

Opening the door, Taeyong saw all his members all well, all the intruders were tied up and looked pretty beaten up. A look of satisfaction only came once Taeyong lifted the mastermind's blindfold, seeing him look all mighty when in reality was actually cowering underneath Taeyong's gaze.

"You can act all tough you want. We all know that deep down, you're just a coward" Taeyong started, picking up one of the weapons his members laid out

"You really think that you could take us down? What? Just because you have more men? Tch. What has your men gone through? A graze from a knife? We've survived bombs, being shot here and there but you can barely take a punch?" Taeyong scoffed

"Well, what about you? Going through all this trouble, bringing in more men all for one girl? Why? She gave you all the best se--" Jeff scoffed but Taeyong immediately punched him to the point everyone could hear the nose broke and Jeff spitting out blood

"You know, I wonder, what does a prick like you saw in her? Did you really think that you have a chance to begin with? She's too good for you, for all of your men in here. So don't you ever think that you get to call her anything or even mention her name. Or maybe I should pull that tounge out of your skull to finally knock some senses in you. But I doubt that you'll be able to say anything even if your tounge is still intact. Cause, by the time I'm done with you, all you could think of is killing yourself. I'll make sure that you'll beg for forgiveness, that you'll beg for me to kill you. That you'll wish you had never set your eyes on her. Because, I'm the one that got what she needs. I'm the sticker for her love" Taeyong stated, spitting out each sentences like venom

"Also, let me show you who you actually mess with when you so much as hurt her" Taeyong stated, revealing all his members present in the room; not one was pleased knowing their favorite staff getting hurt because of a nobody

A/N: why is it when I write for Taeyong, it'll always end up long :D guess that's what I get for having him as my ult. But anyways!! It really has been a while since I wrote about Taeyong and I think this is one of the more darker themes I did. Am just trying out something new, hope that it's not as bad. Hope you all have a wonderful day/weekend!! Until the next one :) xoxo Vinet

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songmingisthighs · 3 years

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Hooked

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

ch. xxxi - countryside orgy

<< previous | masterlist | next >>

??? × reader, ateez × reader

tw : smut, (I don't wanna say this but) orgy, unprotected sex, a bunch of sexual activities that I can't even describe because what the fuck am I doing

A freshman hookup rekindled into something new. With an incentive, of course. But what would happen if your 'relationship' led you somewhere you never thought would happen to you ?

a/n : buckle up, it's gon' be a long one like 5.7k-ish

After lunch, you all spent the afternoon at the beach together. Mostly running around like children and taking pictures.

When the sun sets, you all returned to the villa, tired from the activities done when the sun was still up in the sky but still wanting to do something fun.

For some reason, all nine of you ended up sitting around in a circle in the living room playing truth or dare like a bunch of high school children at a party. Not only that but whichever one of you managed to sneakily incorporate alcohol into the game should be questioned on their intention.

"Okay, okay, okay," Yunho cut off the laughter, trying to get everyone's attention to him, "I got a good one," he smirked. He took a swig from his beer before snapping his head to you, "(Y/N)," he started in a faux menacing tone, "truth or dare?" he asked.

The alcohol in your system rendered you incapable of feeling anxious on the oncoming question or dare. Without thinking twice, you made your choice, "DARE!" you exclaimed, rather too loudly which made Seonghwa, who was seated next to you, chuckle at how cute you're being.

"I dare you to tell us what in the actual fuckity fuck did that crap weasel Jung Wooyoung used to blackmail you? Like damn, you're one of the nicest girls on campus, I honestly can't think of anything bad that he'd be able to use to force you into being his fake girlfriend," he asked.

You scrunched your nose at the dare, not really expecting his intoxicated mind to be able to remember about Wooyoung blackmailing you. But then again, a dare's a dare and you don't really have anything against letting all of them in on the secret you and Wooyoung had had for a while.

"Okay," you took a swig of encouragement from your glass of beer before putting it down and preparing yourself to tell them. "The blackmail material was about someone that Wooyoung knows and it has something to do with arts and crafts," you slyly said.

All of them, except the ones who know which are you, Wooyoung, San, Mingi, and Jongho, had a look of utter confusion and dumbfoundedness that you actually burst out giggling at how they looked.

"Hey, no fair! That's cheating!" Yunho whined, throwing a cushion from the couch at you, to which you barely dodged as it bounced off of you onto the floor. Soon the others followed in on protesting at how unfair you're being.

You held your hands up in mock surrender, "okay, okay! sorry! I'll tell you," you giggled out, "Wooyoung found my binder the day I went to building F because Mingi had somehow managed to get himself lost there," "guilty," Mingi cut you off, grinning innocently. "Anywho, he snooped and San told him it's mine because he knows me from this freshman year class we took together, long story short Wooyoung told me that he'll release the content of the binder if I don't agree to help him out," you shrugged.

Seonghwa reached across to smack Wooyoung square upside the head, making the latter groan in pain at the sudden impact. "Okay, but what's the content of the binder?" Yunho whined out again, still curious. You sighed in defeat, knowing that he's not gonna drop the matter anytime soon, "It was... A collage, of some sort," "a pretty artsy one at that, might I add," San cut off, raising his beer at you in respect, "a collage of...?" Jongho urged with a smug smirk, making you shot a glare at him, "of Yeosang, okay? I used the pictures of him that I took back from the campus life photo shoot to make a pretty, emo skater-boy aesthetic collage," you grumbled.

Yeosang's eyes widened as big as they could get at your revelation. Yunho and Hongjoong were laughing while clapping their hands in pure amusement, meanwhile, Seonghwa was biting his lips tightly, trying to hold in his laughter at your expense. Wooyoung, Mingi, and Jongho on the other hand were snickering at how shocked the others were, especially Yeosang since he couldn't seem to avert his bulging eyes from you.

The whole thing made you whine in protest. San, who was seated next to you, pulled you into a comforting hug, patting your head and cooing in your ears

After a while, all nine of you were starting to feel the buzz of the alcohol in your bloodstream. It would appear that all of your inhibitions are lowered and the game had taken a dirty turn.

Jongho was stripped down to his boxers, Yeosang had somehow been dared into putting on one of your panties, Seonghwa was still regretting telling his most recent sex dream which involved you and three tubes of whipped cream and ending with the boys cleaning after his mess, Mingi was still recovering from prank calling his asshole former RA with fake sex sounds made together with Wooyoung, and Yunho is currently swaying his hips in an effort to write out his name with his butt, the sight was hilarious and Wooyoung leaving a loud and hard spank to his ass was the perfect way to end his dare. The only one seemingly unbothered was Hongjoong, he had no issue telling how he ended up being a camgirl's extra.

Now it's back to your turn. Out of randomness, you picked truth and almost immediately after you blurt the word out, Yeosang threw you a question with a smirk on his face, "How many of us have you slept with?"

As soon as he asked it, everyone snaps their heads to you, almost as if cornering you. With the help of alcohol, you simply shrugged and answer him, "literally everyone except San and Yunho," the two boys mentioned had their jaws dropped, "Wait, so out of everyone here, we are the only ones left???" San asked in disbelief.

You smirked at him, leaning your face close to his, "yeah, jealous?" it was obvious that the alcohol had made you slightly braver, and it's affecting San. His attention drops to your lips and his tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. "Depends, what are you gonna do about it?"

It would appear that the alcohol had not only affected you but also the other boys as well. Because as soon as you taunt him, San pulled you to his lap and began kissing you hungrily. You couldn't help but wind your arms around his neck to pull him closer, wanting to feel him against you whilst you both made out in front of everyone. Whilst you busied yourself with San, the others were watching you two with a look of shock, amusement, and flustered.

You detach yourself momentarily from San, making him whine as he tried chasing your lips with his. But it was futile as you grip the back of his hair and pull his head back, emitting a low groan that almost sounds like a growl from him.

"Whose turn is it?" you asked to the room, eyes not leaving San's lust-filled expression. Someone cleared their throat behind you, piping up to answer your question, "I-I think it's Jongho's turn," the voice said. You later identified the voice to be Seonghwa's.

"Okay, Jongho," you called out, breaking said man's trance to focus on you. Your hands began cupping San's face, your thumbs tugging at his bottom lip as you feel his hips starting to grind on you.

"I dare you to dare me to make San and Yunho cum," you smirked, eyes flitting towards Yunho who is two people away from you. Initially, he looked surprised, but when his eyes met yours, he smirked before beginning to crawl to where you and San are.

Sensing your plan, Jongho chuckled and obliged, "of course, (Y/N), I accept your dare of daring me to dare you to make San and Yunho cum," he said.

It was all it took before you began grinding on San back with more ferocity, hips flush against his that he was able to feel the heat from your pussy even through your underwear and shorts.

Yunho situated himself next to you, his hands pulling you towards him to connect your lips together in a messy kiss. You were trying to balance giving both boys the same attention, so as your hips work on San, your hand reach down to firmly cup Yunho through his pants.

The others were enjoying the show you put on. They too started to feel aroused, some were even thinking about if they were in either Yunho or San's positions.

You suddenly halted your movements on them to stand up. Your crotch is now in direct eye level with San, making him gulp while Yunho stared at your ass in pure fascination.

Without saying much, you unbuttoned your pants and let them drop to the floor as you throw your shirt off. You could've sworn one of the boys watching (most likely Wooyoung) gasped loudly at the sight of your body only covered in a flimsy two-piece bikini that you had put in case the boys wanted to play in the water.

"Shit that's dangerous," Jongho moaned from behind you. You felt that single comment boosted your ego through the roof. You eyed both Yunho and San momentarily, tilting your head to the side as if you were thinking. Your pointer fingers circled in the air in their direction, "take 'em off please, boys," you demanded.

Not even needing a second, both Yunho and San immediately stood up to strip nude. Both showcasing different yet equally pretty cocks, and you just know what you want with them.

Your hands found their way to push San back down to a sitting position. As he lowered himself down, you situated yourself back onto his lap, dropping your crotch directly on his bare cock, only having a thin barrier between you both. Once situated comfortably on San's lap, you began grinding on him hard again while motioning for Yunho to come closer to you. As San moaned at the feeling of your hot pussy rubbing itself on his bare cock, you grip Yunho's cock and began licking at his tip.

"Damn, she's greedy," Yeosang moaned from behind you. You couldn't see the other six boys, but from the sounds you heard, you're pretty sure they're touching themselves.

Yunho moaned loudly when you began taking him in slowly inch by inch until you can feel him at the back of your throat. But even then, there's some of him left that you couldn't fit in your mouth. As you began sucking Yunho off while simultaneously swivelling your crotch on San's, San sneakily managed to untie the knot of your bikini top and latched his lips to your chest. You gasped softly on Yunho's cock when you felt San's tongue running along your chest and around one nipple before grazing his teeth on it, making you squeal. The vibration of your voice shot straight to Yunho's dick, making him groan.

The sight of you on top of San whilst still focused on sucking him off made Yunho unconsciously buck into your mouth. You had one hand on San's shoulder for balance as the other was anchored on Yunho's hip, your fingers would ever so often graze against the underside of his cock and on his balls.

It didn't take long for both of them to feel like they're on the edge, and you knew it too. How could you not? San had tightened his grip around you with his face still buried in your chest and his hips thrusting onto you hard, the feeling of his cock brushing against your clit was amazing. Yunho had gripped onto your head as he began thrusting into your mouth, using it to chase himself over the edge.

Out of the two of them, San was the first to cum. He shuddered and bit on the skin of your boob as his cock let out streams of white cum, painting both your stomachs. You could feel San's hot cum trickling down your stomach. You detach your mouth from Yunho's cock for a bit, using your hand to pump him instead as the hand that was on San's shoulder reached down to your stomach to scoop some of the cum into your mouth before pressing your mouth to San so you both could taste him.

The visual drove Yunho over the edge as his hips stuttered and he came on the side of your neck and onto your chest. The sudden impact made you gasp and push San slightly away to see what had just happened.

Your eyes widened at Yunho's cum that's now prettily decorating your chest, along with San's cum that's starting to drop to the floor beneath.

Luckily, Yunho was quick to take the box of tissue nearby and he and San began cleaning you up from their cum.

Once cleaned up, you stood yourself up from your previous position and turn to look at the other boys. You smirked at the sight of them palming themselves whereas Wooyoung and Mingi just blatantly whip their cocks out to touch themselves.

Seeing that you're already too far in anyways, you pull your bikini top off and pouted at them, "I didn't get to cum, can someone please help me?" you said in a faux defeated tone.

Honjoong was the first to spoke up, "are you sure you can continue, baby? You had just taken two men," he said. You rolled your eyes playfully at him, "of course I can! I can take three of you at the same time," you answered.

Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Yeosang, Mingi, Wooyoung, and Jongho began eyeing each other. You could see the wheels in their heads turning as if devising a plan on how to take you.

The first one to move forward was Jongho. He stood up and walk towards you. His hands moved to palm your breasts and began massaging them slowly, "prove it then, take me, Seonghwa hyung, and Joong hyung at the same time," he smirked cockily. He momentarily looked back towards the two eldest and nodded his head to the side, motioning them to come and help him take care of you.

In a blink of an eye, the one pair of hands turned to three before you could realize anything. Hongjoong pulled your bikini bottoms off before throwing them on Wooyoung's lap, "go help yourself," he ordered to which Wooyoung obliged by wrapping the item around his cock before resuming to pump himself. Seonghwa carefully manoeuvred you into a kneeling position on the floor before situating himself in front of you, he cupped your face gently and peck your lips softly before positioning himself at your entrance, "you ready?" he asked sweetly.

You hadn't even realized that Jongho had situated himself behind you and Hongjoong standing at your side. Jongho sweep your hair to the side, uncovering one of your ears so he could speak directly next to it, "we don't have lube with us, so this might hurt a little, but you can always tap out, okay?" he said, leaving a peck on your cheek as he presses the head of his cock on your rim.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the impact from two out of three of them. Hongjoong knelt down next to you to connect both of your lips together. When you were distracted with Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Jongho began pushing themselves into you. You groaned at the sudden intrusion. It wasn't uncomfortable, but you weren't used to being filled like that. You grip onto Seonghwa's shoulders tightly while he caresses your hips, trying to coax you into relaxing more. Hongjoong's lips moved down to suck spots around your collarbone and chest, trying to distract you.

"Baby, damn, you're so tight here," Jongho groaned when he's fully sheathed in you from behind, his hands massaging your ass in an effort to make it feel better.

"Well gee, Ho, I don't usually do anal with any of you," you muttered, starting to get used to the feeling of having two cocks inside you. You tap on Seonghwa's cheek with your pointer finger, signalling for him to move first.

Seonghwa started to thrust up into you slowly. His cock sliding in and out of you combined with the fullness in your ass from Jongho's cock and Hongjoong's lips sucking marks along your collarbone made you sigh shakily and drop your head back onto Jongho's shoulder.

When he felt like you're relaxed enough and distracted with Seonghwa's thrusts, Jongho experimentally pulls slightly out before pushing back in once. When his hips slammed onto your ass, you felt your breath got knocked out of your lungs, but you didn't feel uncomfortable at all.

Taking your lack of protest as a good sign, Jongho began building up his own rhythm. He matched his thrusts with Seonghwa's. So when Seonghwa pulled out, he was thrusting in, making sure you're never left empty.

Both Seonghwa and Jongho were preoccupying you too much that Hongjoong had felt slightly neglected. He got onto his feet and grab his cock, poking it to your cheek with a pout on his face.

His expression made you giggle because who would've thought drunken, horny Hongjoong is whiny and needy?

Nevertheless, you open your mouth so he could slide his cock in. His cock isn't as big as Yunho and it fits rather nicely in your mouth. It didn't take long for you to start deepthroating him, occasionally letting your teeth graze against his cock that caused a low rumble from his throat.

Seeing your newfound attention, Seonghwa decided to be a little shit and tease you.

"Look at you, so pretty like this," he mockingly said. His hands that were situated on your waist moved to your chest, he caressed the underside of your boobs initially, but his fingers slowly started tweaking at your nipples, "you like having your holes filled, don't you? Having us use you however we like," he growled, fingers pinching at your nipples harshly.

The pain from your nipples shot through to your core, both Seonghwa and Jongho felt you clench at it. Your mouth hung open as a gasp escape you, Hongjoong's cock slipping out of your mouth momentarily.

The man was not pleased when your lips lost contact with his dick. He glared at Seonghwa and reach to yank at his hair, forcing Seonghwa to look at him.

"You better stop that or else you'd be the one sucking my dick," he threatened. In return, Seonghwa only chuckled mockingly, darting his tongue out to lick at his lips mockingly, "you'd like that, wouldn't you? You freak," the older teased.

Jongho leaned forward and hook his arms around yours securely, assuring that you wouldn't be able to move, "you think they'd realize if I slip you off of Hwa hyung and just fuck you myself?" he asked, making you giggle.

But your giggle was cut off when Seonghwa and Hongjoong averted their gaze towards the youngest male. They both promptly return to their tasks. After promptly shoving his dick back in your mouth, Hongjoong and Seonghwa started a new pace, much faster and much harsher than before.

You nearly toppled back onto Jongho, but thankfully he had a firm grip on you. As if not wanting to lose to the two eldest, Jongho began thrusting faster into you, making sure your ass smack against his hip bones repeatedly.

The only sounds that could be heard were words of encouragement from the boys watching, skin slapping, three moans, and one muffled one.

As the three thrust into you carelessly, using use as a mere item for them to chase their orgasm, you suddenly felt overwhelmed. With Seonghwa brushing his tip against your g spot, Jongho rubbing his sweaty skin on you and letting his thick cock fill you up beyond your imagination, and the lack of air that was caused by the blockage Hongjoong caused in your mouth, you toppled over the edge.

Your body tensed up, fingers curling on Seonghwa's shoulder to grip him tightly and your mouth gape out as a choked moan escapes you.

Instead of letting your orgasm ebb, neither one of the three stopped what they were previously doing. Moreover, they seem to be at it more than before. The rhythm of their thrusts became sloppy and uncoordinated. Your fucked out expression only egged them to cum even further, wanting to feel the ecstasy you're currently feeling. You could swear Hongjoong could see his dick bulging out from your throat and that Seonghwa and Jongho could feel each other's dicks rubbing inside you.

Jongho pulled out and came first, opting to shoot his load on your back and your ass than inside you. You groaned when feeling his hot cum on your ass and the man behind you made it his mission to make things messy as he spread his cum down to your ass and to your pussy hole so that his and Seonghwa's cum would mix together. You could actually hear Jongho snickering at the back, amused with himself.

Next thing you know, Hongjoong's hips stuttered and he came down your throat. Though still going through your own high, you swallow Hongjoong's load and keep sucking him to prolong his climax.

Seonghwa's eyes darkened even more at the sight of you so greedily swallowing Hongjoong's cum so easily.

"You're a greedy cumslut, aren't you? Made for nothing other than good dicking and taking cum, if that's what you want, then take it," he said before letting one, two, three, four more harsh thrusts before letting his head drop to your shoulder, lips pressing on his skin as he unloads inside you.

Never have you felt dirtier yet satisfied beyond anything after sex. Sure you've taken two brutes at the same time before (re : Mingi and Jongho), but apparently, three is your new limit.

Whilst the four of you were taking your breath, Jongho was smacked to the side by Mingi using the tissue box.

"You just had to make a mess, don't you?" he grumbled as he drops to his knees behind you and letting his hands carefully cleaned you off. However, you couldn't help but shudder when his hand reached between your legs to wipe the dripping cum off. Mingi smirked smugly at your reaction, "tingly down there, baby?" he teased, pressing a kiss down at the back of your neck.

"Don't tease," you whined, letting your body fell slightly backwards on Mingi's body. As the man behind you wraps his arms around your waist, you could see Wooyoung standing up from his position on the floor to walk towards you. He was stopped merely a couple steps in by Yunho who nudged his head towards Yeosang's direction, "might wanna let Yeosang go first, man looked like a ticking time bomb," he snickered. "You mean a ticking cum bomb," San retorted from the couch, hand stroking his erect cock even after cumming previously. "Damn it, it was right there," Yunho grumbled.

You flit your gaze Yeosang and true to what Yunho said, he had forgotten about his initial shyness. His cock was out in the open air, exposed by the pants that he had pushed carelessly down just enough, tip angry red and it looked so hard you think it must hurt.

Without wasting another second, you stood up and skip over to Yeosang. You drop yourself between his legs, adorning a goofy grin on your face, "can I help you with that?" you asked, eyes dropping to the problem between his legs.

Normally, he'd blush so hard if someone said that to him. But for some reason, he just found you adorable. He chuckled at you, lifting two fingers in a come-hither motion, "gimme a kiss first," he said. You squealed at his confidence but jump upwards to crash your lips with his in a playful kiss.

Lips busy, you sneakily drop your hand down to take Yeosang fully in your hand. Once your hand made contact with his cock and squeezing it softly, he gasped into your mouth.

You detached your lips so you'd be able to look down. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight before you.

"Red lace looks great on you, Sangie," you teased. Yeosang looked down and groan when he realized what you meant. He was so horny that he forgot he was wearing your panties for the dare.

"Jung fucking Yunho," he grumbled, dropping his head back onto the couch in embarrassment.

Still giggling, you lower yourself to press your chest against his hard dick. When Yeosang felt his cock pressed onto something soft, he whipped his head back up and nearly bulged his eyes out at the sight of you rubbing your chest on his dick.

"Do you think you can cum with my boobs, Sangie?" you titled your head at him. The stark difference between the innocent expression on your face and the lewd action you're doing made his dick twitch.

"Try me," he challenged.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you began squeezing your boobs around his dick and move your chest up and down on him. The skin of your chest was colder compared to his hot dick, it felt kind of nice.

Considering how hard and worked up he was, you think it wouldn't take him long to cum. So you work yourself so that Yeosang could reach his peak soon. Poor guy must've been wanting to cum so bad.

As you're preoccupied with Yeosang, Mingi took the opportunity of your ass jutting out to slip himself into your pussy in one swift thrust. Thank god you're still wet from previous ministrations.

The sudden impact halted your tit-fucking on Yeosang. You whimpered slightly when Mingi decided to stay still after waiting for him to move.

"No, no, princess, you're gonna make Yeosangie there cum with my dick in you," he said. You could hear the smugness dripping from his voice. He leaned forward to lick a stripe from the middle of your back to your neck, "so you better not move much if you don't want daddy to punish you," he growled next to your ear.

"Oh shit, Mingi's straight-up cruel, isn't he?" Wooyoung muttered to Seonghwa, who was equally shocked at the sight in front of him. Jongho piped in from the side, "nah, he just love taming (Y/N),"

Initially, you thought tit-fucking Yeosang would be an easy thing. But with the additional interruption inside you, you can't seem to focus. On one hand, you want to make Yeosang cum on your chest. But on the other hand, you think having Mingi fuck you would be amazing.

But you're determined. You tried not thinking about how Mingi's dick is filling you up nicely and to just focus on letting Yeosang's dick thrust in between your tits, having your tongue graze against his tip every time it came to view.

Slowly, Yeosang started to thrust himself onto you. You adjusted your rhythm to his, making sure that when he thrust himself up, you're pushing your boobs down on him. Soon enough you started to get used to Mingi's cock filling you and just focus on making Yeosang cum.

With increasing speed, you encouraged Yeosang to cum. Egging him to the edge. At one point, you even spat down onto his cock to make him move better as if your boobs hadn't already been covered in his precum.

Yeosang is different from the others. Whilst the others have telltale signs of them cumming through their faltering movements, Yeosang kept a steady pace. He'd increase his speed from time to time and his face would scrunch in concentration.

"Come on Sangie, I want your cum," you whimpered at him. His eyes met yours, focusing on the way you're looking at him. Eyes batted and lips pouted, proving that you're really begging for him to cum on you.

"Yeosangie, please," you moaned out. He inhaled sharply at your voice, knowing that he's just about to cum.

"F-fuck, (Y/N), w-where do you want me?" he uttered out in pants.

"Cum on my chest, Sangie, please," you begged.

As soon as his brain processed your begs, he spurted out ropes of milky white cum to your chest, some of it even splattered on your chin and neck.

You were about to compliment him when all of a sudden, Mingi pulled you flush into his lap and turned you both around so his back is rested on the couch behind him.

Wooyoung appeared before your eyes out of nowhere, hand still on his cock that's wrapped in your bikini bottom. He had a teasing smirk on his face as he pumps slowly, "our turn," he sing-songed.

Without even waiting for you to react, Mingi's arms wrapped around your waist and began thrusting himself.

"Ah!" you yelped, surprised at the suddenness. But Mingi didn't care as he only presses his forehead onto your shoulder and thrust at an animalistic speed. Your eyes focused on Wooyoung and how he's staring directly at your pussy while his hands move on his dick quickly to match Mingi's thrusting pace.

You licked your lips at how needy Wooyoung is. So who are you to deprive the man of what he needs?

Carefully, so that you wouldn't disturb Mingi, you hook both of your legs around his longer one's, making sure that Wooyoung could get a better view of how Mingi's moving into you.

Wooyoung's eyes bulged out at the new visual. Your glistening pussy practically sucking all of Mingi so greedily, pulsing with need, pink bordering on red from the way it's been used, and still slightly leaking the cum that Seonghwa had left inside you, not to mention your chest still has what Yeosang left on you. His hands initially faltered in surprise, but when his eyes met your encouraging ones, he scooted closer to you and began pumping harder and faster. How did he not get hand cramps yet is a mystery.

Mingi seemed to notice Wooyoung moving closer to the both of you. It was then when he noticed your legs had spread wider for Wooyoung to see and you're now enjoying how he's fucking into you.

He chuckled in amusement, feeling somewhat proud. "You're a considerate little princess, aren't you?" his voice rumbled deeply next to your ear, making you blush. You hadn't even realized one of his hands snaked to between your legs until it suddenly smacks your pussy loudly.

The others who were watching jumped slightly at the sound. One of them definitely whimpered either from the sound or from how your pussy is now a shade darker.

Mingi is now determined to make you lose control. Something deep in him convinced himself that even though the others had had their way with you, HE'S the only one who knows your body best and how to control it, bend it to his will.

With the determination set, his hips set to a steady pace and his hand rub at your clit in harsh circles, the lubrication of your juice and his precum (along with Seonghwa's leftover cum that he wouldn't admit) made it easier for him to pleasure you.

You let out a loud squeal at the newfound pleasure. Your chest arching high from Mingi's and your eyes scrunching close. If it weren't for Mingi's arms anchoring you, you'd surely topple forward and smack yourself onto Wooyoung's dick, face first. Although, that wouldn't be the worst way to fall over.

Wooyoung licks his lips when he saw the outline of Mingi's cock through your stomach, thinking how you must be so tight and small for Mingi's cock to be able to do that. Not that he think it's a competition, but he's pretty confident in his own size and girth.

Currently you're a moaning mess. Hands groping onto your chest for anchor and toes curling. The pleasure had become overwhelming. You don't know if it's the buildup of multiple sexual activities or the fact that you had only cum once whereas you had managed to make six out of eight men cum in and on you.

Mid-thought, you felt something inside you snap and you let out the most pornographic moan you can muster as you squirted on the floor, Mingi's legs, and onto Wooyoung.

Other than Mingi and Wooyoung, the room felt like it had been frozen in time. Six pairs of eyes watched with disbelief at what had just happened in front of them.

"Shit, she never squirted before," Jongho choked out, making the other five pairs of eyes divert to him.

"Oh fuck, that's the hottest thing I've ever seen," Wooyoung grunted. He promptly moves himself to be directly in front of you. He let your bikini bottom drop to the floor so that his bare hand would pump himself instead.

The way you're currently being overstimulated by Mingi's ever-thrusting dick sets him off immediately.

As if synced, when Wooyoung's cum hit your stomach, Mingi also released himself in you, mixing your essence and him together whilst still thrusting to ride his orgasm off.

When Mingi finally stopped thrusting, you could feel fatigue wash over you and your legs lost all its strength. All you could do is slump against Mingi as he caresses your thighs lovingly, whispering "good job"s into your ear.

Silence washed over the room as everyone calms themselves down from the event that had just unfold. No one was regretting anything, it's more like wonder. How one second you were all playing truth or dare and suddenly they're all fucking the girl who's supposed to be Wooyoung's fake girlfriend.

You were bordering on falling asleep when you suddenly felt your body being lifted up into familiar arms.

"I'll take her up and clean her, mind cleaning up?" Mingi asked towards the rest of them as he stood up to get you to your shared room.

The last thing you heard before closing your eyes were the other seven agreeing to clean up. The smell of sex was still thick in the air, while it would've been disgusting to your normal self, right now it just set your brain to immediately sleep.

"Rest up, princess, we'll take care of you," Mingi chuckled, pulling you closer into his chest as he walked up the stairs.

You didn't know why Mingi said 'we' instead of 'I'. But it felt nice.

It felt right.

taglist :

@raysanshine @peachy-maia @xuxiable @90s-belladonna @theclawofaraven @rae-baby @sungiehan @felix-kithes @nycol-ie @superstarw99 @skkrtnawrskkrt @viv-atiny @the7thcrow @stfu-xeena @laurademaury @multihoe-net @daisyhwa @scoupshushushu @whyisquill @bikiniholic @yunhorights @exfolitae @simplewonderland @verycooldog2 @perfectlysane24 @hannahdinse8 @tannie13@aka-minhyuk-kun @phebeedee @sweetlikeh0n3y @marsophilia @donghyuckanti27 @se-onghwa @malewife-supremacy @hyunsukream

okay, @rae-baby , where are you?? Why can't I tag you anymore ??

a/n : I called this chapter countryside orgy too much to the point that I changed it to countryside orgy from the original life's a beach. y'all fucking ruined me.

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tl-notes · 3 years

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Kobayashi’s Maid Dragon S2 Episode 9 Notes

...設立から大分地盤が固まってきており、少しずつだが、業態は改善されている。

One thing to note here is that Kobayashi(‘s narration) isn’t saying the company has already made solid improvements, it’s that the company has finally established itself somewhat (as it was only founded relatively recently, and typically new companies are especially busy while trying to get off the ground) and now is starting to make improvements.

Similarly in the second sentence, it’s not “was” slow going, it’s “is still” slow going, and the working conditions “are” improving, not “have improved.”

This is がんば ganba, short of course for がんばって ganbatte, which I’m sure most of you are familiar with: the (in)famous “do your best.”

I only mention it because I like this shortened version of it. Ganba!

This is a fun little idiom(?)/saying: 鼻で笑う hana de warau (conjugated as hana de warawareta), lit. to laugh using the nose. It’s used to describe laughing at someone you’re looking down on for whatever reason (not necessarily in a super serious way, could just be a friend being dumb etc.; in this case it’s Elma’s being naive).

Typically it refers to like a “heh-but-through-the-nose” kind of “laugh,” but as you can see in this scene (where clearly Kobayashi is laughing with the mouth, even starting with “pff” lips) it works idiomatically even if the laughing isn’t only through the nose.

You may have heard that Japan is/was a “lifetime employment” country, where typically people would get hired right out of school and stay at that company until retirement. While that’s much less true today than it was even a couple of decades ago (and has become kind of controversial in ways), it’s still much more common of a practice than in say the US.

One result of this is that there’s a much bigger distinction placed between hiring people in spring as part of the annual graduation rush (the Japanese school year ends in March), and mid-career hiring. Typically you can’t participate in the fresh grad hiring if you aren’t one, even if you’re new to the field in question.

For larger employers (i.e. 5k+ employees), roughly two-thirds of all hirings come from fresh grads, and only small employers (<300 employees) hire more mid-careerists than people directly out of school.

Of course, this split tends to apply mostly to “standard” full time jobs, not so much part time, and is not necessarily a thing in every industry/at every company.

Just as a minor point of clarity, this “organized text” in Elma’s document refers to the phrase まとめられた文章 matomerareta bunshou. In a literal sense, matomerareta can mean organized/consolidated etc., and bunshou text/passages, but meaning-wise it’s more like “writing that gets its point across clearly/cleanly.”

This is a pretty big compliment and a very useful skill to have in organizations like this, as writing such that people can quickly and easily understand exactly what you’re trying to say often saves a ton of time and frustration.

我々はエルマの気迫に押されるがままにその書類を読み始めた。

Another minor point, but where the English could imply that they were overwhelmed by Elma’s intensity through the act of reading her report, the Japanese implies more that they started reading it because of how intense Elma was being.

It doesn’t really make much of a difference either way, but it stuck out a little for me.

To justify mentioning it, I guess I’ll explain the grammar point Kobayashi uses: されるがままに sareru ga mama ni. Sareru is a generic verb/verb conjugation for having something done to you (technically here it’s 押される, to be “pushed/pressed/pressured”), and mama refers to a state, condition, or “way” (like “do it this way”).

Put together, the whole phrase is used to indicate “you” do/did something that someone else wants you to, without (meaningful) opposition. (Something similar in raw meaning but with a very different connotation would be “going with the flow.”)

If a friend says “hey let’s go do something,” and next thing you know you’re out bowling despite preferring to stay at home, this is you.

You can stick the mama ni to various other things as well to come up with a similar idea, but without the sareru the nuance may end up different.

The word for clairvoyance here is 千里眼 senrigan, lit. “eye(s) [that can see] a thousand li”, li being a Chinese unit of measurement for length (shorter than a mile, but for general purposes “eyes that see a thousand miles” is basically the gist).

Despite the perhaps physical-sounding nature of the term, it does actually describe the same power as “clairvoyance” in English: being able to perceive things outside your actual range of vision, including potentially into people’s hearts and minds etc.

Hence why it’s a thousand screen display, when she updates it with tech knowledge:

“Tainted by work” here is 職業病 shokugyou-byou, lit. an occupational disease. The “proper” definition is a disease one gets from working in a particular job, such as black lung for coal miners or even posture-related health issues for desk workers.

Additionally, it’s used colloquially to refer to noticeable habits or quirks that people in a certain profession pick up, like a baker always waking up super early or a programmer using programming lingo out of context in normal conversation. The latter being especially noticeable in Japanese, as a lot of such terms are English in origin.

“Shocking” here is a fun word: ドン引き don-biki. “Don” here is added just for emphasis; the main meaning revolves around 引き hiki/biki, from the verb 引く hiku, meaning to pull.

The idea is that someone does/says something that you recoil from. Maybe it’s gross (“I only shower once a week”), maybe it’s mean (“They didn’t smile enough so I didn’t leave a tip.”), maybe it’s creepy (“I sent like 30 texts yesterday but still no reply.”), just anything that has you feeling like you might want to create some distance because... phew.

It’s kind of similar to the current use of “cringe” as an adjective/noun, though with less of an internet-slang feel* to it, and generally used more as something the speaker is doing rather than describing whatever/whoever is being cringe.

(*I think it started being used popularly in this way in the early-to-mid 90s, with the “don”biki variant specifically popping up around 2005.)

A “Premium Friday” is the last Friday of the month, where you get to leave work at 3 pm. It is largely theoretical.

The idea was created by the Japanese government as a way to reduce working hours and encourage domestic spending (boost demand), but it has not been implemented by all that many employers, and especially not many smaller employers. There isn’t, after all, any mandate or government-provided incentive for doing so.

Evidence from the places that did implement it suggests it is actually good for the economy, but good luck convincing bosses to give extra paid time off.

“Last Friday of the month” was chosen because most people get paid on the 25th each month (Japan tends to pay monthly instead of every two weeks), so it would usually be right after payday, when people are more willing to get spendy.

Kobayashi saying eight hours here reminded me of a “fun” fact: the typical Japanese work day is eight hours plus a one hour break. Plus a one hour break, not with. So a typical work day is actually nine hours. Most commonly 8 to 5 or 9 to 6. Not many “nine-to-fives” here.

The characters for Joui are 上井, which usually read as Kamii or Uwai. It’s “Joui” because that means, when written as 上位, “superior.” As in “a superior life-form.” Like a dragon, say.

でも、ゆっくりやる事業改善案を見せてもらえたじゃない？

This one is actually kind of a critical mistake. In the English it sounds like she’s talking about the improvement proposal that Elma made and that the boss looked at. In the Japanese though, she’s talking about a different plan, one the boss showed them*, that is similar in idea but is going to take longer to be fully implemented**. So we’re being told that while Elma didn’t get what she wanted as fast as she wanted it, it is still basically going through at a slower pace.

*In ”見せてもらえた misete moraeta,” the misete vs mite means they were the ones who got shown something, rather than the ones who got someone to look at their stuff.

**Which you can tell from the ゆっくりやる yukkuri yaru, where yaru is basically “do” and yukkuri means (in this case) at an unhurried pace.

(Re previous note: Hence why she says “immediately” here.)

“Black (ブラック)” and “white (ホワイト)” in the context of Japanese employers refers to how well employees are treated: a company with good benefits/pay, reasonable levels of overtime, and feels safe to work at is “white,” while a company that has excessive overtime, often pays poorly, breaks labor laws, and allows harassment to fester is “black.”

While “white company” was created simply in contrast to the term “black company,” the latter finds its origins in front businesses for organized crime, which were called “black” in the sense of “illegal” (similar to “black market” or something being in a “grey area”). Given the international reputation of Japanese work life, you can imagine that “black company” as a term sees much more use.

There’s been some discussion about maybe replacing it due to the racial implications (especially since it uses the English word “black”), but while typically English translations drop the color for that reason (e.g. ブラック企業大賞, an “award” given to Japan’s worst employer each year, is officially “Most Evil Corporation of the Year Award” in English), it hasn’t really penetrated to the mainstream at this point.

The rice there is in a 飯盒 hangou, a metal container that looks… like that, and is the stereotypical item of choice for cooking rice while camping. It has its origins in the mess kits used by the military, but these days they’re primarily marketed as portable rice cookers for camping use.

You can get round ones too, but the bean shape is very popular.

“Settings” here is 設定 settei, lit. exactly that, “setting(s).” E.g. if you open a computer program and look at the settings menu, it’ll be settei in the Japanese language settings (settei).

I bring it up here because there’s a bit of a difference in how it gets used colloquially like this. In English, the “setting” for a story typically refers to where and when it’s set. In Japanese, “setting” in that sense is usually 舞台 butai. But settei is still used when talking about fiction, just in a different, more expansive way.

Often in these cases settei is used to refer to the various conceits that provide the context in which the story takes place. In this show, for example, one such “setting” is that dragons are real: another is that magic exists. It comes up especially often in fantasy/sci-fi type stuff where there are major distinctions between that universe and the real world—not that stories in a real-world setting don’t have settei of their own, but they often are lumped into descriptions of the plot in that case (”a dragon comes to live with an office worker in her apartment”).

It also refers to the “settings” of characters, like name or age, and things like “they run a bakery that’s going out of business and are trying to save it.” Basically all the details you’d have in a character profile.

It also gets used in conversation to refer to pretend things or (basically) lies: like here, where Saikawa thinks Shouta is playing pretend with his ley-lines talk, or e.g. if someone is trying to tell you some outlandish story (“my uncle works at Nintendo…” or someone asking for love life advice for “their friend”) and you’re just like “Okay so that’s the settei here, I see.”

Not really a big deal, but Elma’s line here in Japanese implies she won’t let Tohru call her that anymore (see her もう mou). Tohru’s response is also more of a “I haven’t been?”, since of course she wasn’t aware of Elma’s-mental-image-Tohru tormenting Elma in the previous scene:

The word for “full of” in the title here is ざんまい zanmai (a suffix form of 三昧 sanmai), usually meaning that there’s a whole lot of [whatever] to immerse oneself in. I mostly bring it up because there’s a famous restaurant chain called Sushi Zanmai that specializes in, obviously, sushi.

And you know, Elma is a water dragon that looks kinda like an eel… I’m just sayin’…

Not really a translation note, but wild that Elma didn’t even touch her parfait. (Not so wild that Fafnir finished his so quickly.) Serious business ahead...

“Genuinely” here is 素直に sunao ni, where the “ni” is used like “-ly” to make sunao work as an adverb. Sunao itself is an interesting word that falls into that category of “simple concept that is often hellish to translate.”

For some context, the first character, 素, is also used in the word 素顔 sugao, which is a face without makeup and 素材 sozai, basically raw ingredients/materials. The second, 直, is used in words like 直線 chokusen, a straight line, or 正直 shoujiki, honest.

Put them together, and you’ve got a word with connotations of directness and being unadorned. The original definition of the word tends toward “simple, natural” in the sense of e.g. life growing up on a rural farm.

The more common use for it these days is to describe people and their actions. Positively, it can mean something similar to a person being happy to help, or kind of like the opposite of conniving; open, frank, genuine. Less positively, it can mean someone is too trusting and easy to trick into doing things OR someone who is “too honest” and says hurtful things.

(If it helps: tsundere characters are often described as explicitly not sunao.)

In this case, the idea is that Tohru accepted the invitation easily as-is, without putting any conditions on it, or doing any “ugh, what a pain, do I have to, jeez” rigamarole—she just accepted. Another way you could put it in this case might be “It’s even more unusual for Tohru to accept an invitation like this without a fuss.”

Just to point out the hand on head thing again.

Also just to point out that this is another example of otsukare, as a reminder of how ubiquitous that word is.

And it makes a good place to end on: thanks for reading!

#maidragon #Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid #kobayashi-san chi no maid dragon #translation notes #anime

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chicago-geniza · 2 years

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ok REALLY need to work so thoughtsdump to purge them for later:

- what @di-goldene-oygn & @starstarship & others have mentioned re: criticism of jude’s experiences in ‘a little life’ as “unrealistic,” i.e., the amount and the types of abuse endured by this character are exaggerated to such extremes that in “real life” they would be unsurvivable, & the author’s decision to ‘lavish’ such excess on one person feels *prurient*--hence the term i hate with my life, ‘trauma porn’--because the sheer un-realism of his suffering beggars belief & reaches catharsis via alternative narrative means (not tragedy-by-active-choice that the reader watches, unable to intervene & stop, but tragedy-by-cruel-circumstance in which the character is passive, stripped of agency, very ‘book of job morality play,’ while also providing the presumed reader with a dual sense of relief that 1) this is not a situation in which they could intervene, because choice is not a variable, & 2) This Could Never Happen In Real Life); what i am thinking about is how people consider literary realism, as a genre, & define it, consciously or otherwise, by the parameters of their own “lived experience,” or the experience that *they can fathom as livable,* plausible, possible, a life that might, conceivably, exist in the same world parallel to theirs, if not perpendicular to it. & what i am also thinking about is how these incredulous remarks re: the “unrealism” of jude’s abuse sound strangely like the comments some people used to make about Token Diversity in school textbook illustrations, how representations of XYZ intersections embodied in a single person were “unrealistic” and done solely to satisfy the demands of absurd “political correctness,” how such representations were almost ridiculous in their exaggerated aggregations of minority identities. you know, like, a Black girl in a wheelchair wearing a magen david or something, & people would go, “nobody like that exists in *real life,* they’re just pandering to the PC Police!” (when, of course, i literally know...at least two Black jewish girls in wheelchairs!) but THOSE “unrealistic” accumulations are “written on the body,” so to speak; of course, abuse gets inscribed on the body too, but often in subtler ways--experience is not “legible,” socially or politically, the way that skin color or mobility aids are. something about Representation in literature & otherwise--how the line is negotiated between the body/the marginalized body in society & the novel form’s turn to interiority, where Representation is inextricably linked to one’s inner experience *of* the world; how recent aims re: political writing & a nascent politics of identity are in tension with Iowa School forms of literary prose; how critics’ responses to depictions of abuse in literature (that focus more on the author’s motives) & responses to depictions of marginalized experience (either framed by Theory & written like grad seminar papers, or “Is This Good or Bad” referenda on Pilgrim’s-Progress-style YA novels of instruction)--*especially* the whole concept of “ownvoices” & suspicion of anything that seems “stranger than fiction” (e.g., extreme abuse, extreme addiction or psychosis) if the author did not experience it themselves--reflect this tension. i’m also interested in how this intersects with, well, what i have been thinking of as a two-pronged phenomenon: a popular turn toward “healing” which never quite defines its terms, & this...bizarre strain of pop psychology i’ve seen proliferating on tiktok & twitter & elsewhere that recapitulates with startling exactness the discourse of 19th-century education reformers about imagination as pathological escapism from the Real World. (see: that one viral tweet about how “spending too much time reading” as a child was “a sign of dissociation” because you were “trying to escape from the real world.”)

- don’t remember the second thing bc i got distracted & wrote too much lol

#thenk u concerta 4 my lyfe #yeah i used to think & write like this all the time before i got sick #chronic illness is a fuck 500000000 dead brain cells

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darklingichor · 3 years

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Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir **MAJOR SPOILERS**

So, this is a first, I've never written a revisit this fast.

I do often read or listen to an especially good book, again, right after I finish it. Usually because I can't get into another book until I do.

I did it with Lamb, and I did it with the Martian.

This one is going to be chock full of spoilers, I really want to analyze the main characters in this book, and I can't do that without going into details. This is why I marked the hell out of this.

Project Hail Mary is even better the second time around. This is often the case. Books are like soup. The leftovers from the fridge are often even better than when you had it the first time.

*SPOILERS* *SERIOUSLY SPOILERS TURN BACK NOW IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THIS BOOK* *SPOILERS* *THE REST OF THIS RAMBLE WILL RUIN THE BOOK* *SPOILERS*

Okay, so run down.

The book opens with our main character waking up to an annoying computer asking him basic math questions. This is detecting cognitive function, that's my guess anyway.

Our character quickly discovers a few things. First, he's in a room with robot arms tending to him, including unhooking him from various life support systems as it figures out that he is awake and functioning. He's not alone in the room, there are two others, but they are long dead. And he has no idea, who he is, where he is, or why he's there.

What follows for a little while is what I would call a psychological screwball comedy. It takes him several days to work out that his name is Ryland Grace and he is a microbiologist PhD who had a falling out with the academic community and found his calling as a Jr. High science teacher. Though exploration, experiments, and memory flashes, he works out that he is on a spaceship, the corpses were his crewmates, and he is on a mission to Tau Ceti to save earth from an alien algae like creature, called Astropgage, that is dimming the sun and setting earth on the course to an ice age that will begin to wipe out humanity in 30 years. Tau Ceti, which is 12 light years away from earth, is resistant to this energy sucking algae.

We get all the backstory of how he became a crew member aboard the ship Hail Mary, in flashbacks as his memories return. A big memory that returns? Project Hail Mary is a suicide mission, he will not be going home.

In the meantime, he is slowly trying to figure out how to save earth, while he does this, he sees a very weird spaceship and meets an intelligent alien being. This being (Grace calls him Rocky) comes from a world (Earid) that is in the same situation as Earth. Together, Grace and Rocky have to work out how to save both of their home worlds.

Ryland Grace is a complex character, he’s very very different from Mark Watney (I haven't read Artimis so I can't make comparisons to those characters).

The Martian points out that Astronauts are inherently noble, willing to risk their lives for science and a good cause.

Grace is not an astronaut. That's not to say that he isn't a good person, just that he is an average person. He can be all at once self-sacrificing and selfish.

Early on he is drafted into the research team on what would be called Astropgage as a science expert by Eva Strat, a woman in charge of figuring out what is going on and how to stop it.

Once he was released from his part in this research, he goes back to teaching, only to be struck by the fact that his students would be in their early forties when all hell breaks loose, and that they might die. He then goes back to Strat and demands to be part of the research again.

This back and forth happens a few times in the story. In fact, it becomes a big part of it. See, the crew of the Hail Mary were put into comas to ensure that they would not go nuts and kill each other on the 12 light-year (four years from their perspective) journey, a medical company discovered that 1 in 7000 people have the genes to survive long comas and still function when they wake up. Grace is one of those people, but he is not volunteering for this mission. It's not that he doesn't care, or even that he doesn't want to help, it's that he's scared. And who wouldn't be? But honestly? I think Grace has imposture syndrome and is generally very sensitive. He realized that his kids would suffer, after starting to teach a class, that speed him to become a part of Strat's team again. Events happen that lead him to being the only logical candidate for the science expert aboard the Hail Mary. He refused, Strat basically kidnaps him, sets the computer induce amnesia in only Grace and plunks him on board.

Before she does this, she harshly calls Grace out.

“Do you think I don’t know you, Dr. Grace?!” she yelled. “You’re a coward and you always have been. You abandoned a promising scientific career because people didn’t like a paper you wrote. You retreated to the safety of children who worship you for being the cool teacher. You don’t have a romantic partner in your life because that would mean you might suffer heartbreak. You avoid risk like the plague.” (pg. 392 Kindle Edition)

This all seems to be true, but we don't know Grace's full story. Other than a mention of one girlfriend in college, and brief mentions of friends, There is nothing in the book about his life before he started teaching. This could be because the amnesia has left those things fuzzy, but in my head, it's because he doesn't want to think about it. Maybe he had a bad family life, maybe he had *no* family life, maybe he had an early tragedy. Maybe he realized his short comings and that, no matter his talent, he just didn't have the temperament for acidemia.

He does like being the cool teacher, he does say he likes being looked up to, but this isn't necessarily a bad thing. He's a *good* teacher.

I had cool teachers before I switched to home school. They weren't all good. I had one that would literally just let us mess around during class because they didn't want to actually grade papers. Cool to a kid? Absolutely! Good for education? Not on your life.

Grace isn't like that, he loves science, he loves teaching, and the kids are learning.

He doesn't like animal testing, he's emotional at the fragility of humanity. In short, in his quiet way he loves life.

He leaves his comfort zone to be a part of Strat's team because he knows he's good at what he does and he couldn't look at his students and knowing they could die when he could help prevent it. That doesn't mean he thinks he will be Earth's savior, just that he can help.

He's unwilling to die.

Usually in books and movies, this translates to coward, but really? It's not. Most people wouldn't volunteer for a suicide mission, especially one this pressure filled. "So, we need you to go into a coma, go to a different solar system, save your whole species, and then kill yourselves so you won't starve to death. We good? Cool."

You can't fault a living being for wanting to live. Plus, the other crew members had time to think it through, really decide, make peace with the decision and *then* carry through with the training. Grace? He was given the training, but Strat always said it was for the science of the mission. She was a little like Dumbledore, in that she was training him in case he had to go, but never told him it was a possibility. When it became clear that he was the choice for the vacant spot, he was given less than five hours to decide, and then was told he had no choice.

He makes noble choices throughout the book, but that one choice was not his own, because Strat was given absolute power and used it absolutely.

I can't say that Strat is a villain, either. She was elected to save earth and given the power to cut through any red tape. Handed all this authority, she doesn't become corrupt, she uses this power ruthlessly, but always with the only goal being Save Earth, full stop, that's it. And even as Grace, understandably terrified, yells at her she tells him that she likes him, that she knows that he is a good man, that he will give this his all. She doesn't *want* to send this unwilling and scared man on a suicide mission. She *has* to. Strat is also complex, she is not nonsense and is committed to her role in saving humanity. I like the reason she gives as to why, toward the end of the book. She got her undergrad degree in history. She takes to heart the old saying that those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.

The climate scientists and their models assumed survival based on the idea that all countries will work together for the common goal. However, Strat points out that history shows that that ideal scenario, is not likely to work. She says that most wars, up until very recently, were fought over food, and resulting in famine. As the sun loses energy and crops fail, there will be wars, and they will be over food. And that is what she is desperately trying to avoid – the horror of history brought to the modern day.

I started as a history major, and history is interwoven into anthropology – I understand this perspective.

I am not going to get into politics, but I’ve experienced the agonizing frustration of watching history repeat itself, more than once in the last couple of years. Guessing at how something will probably go due to how something lines up with a similar event in the past and knowing that if someone in power would just listen it might turn out different, or that the eventual problems could at least be prepared for, and watch it happen anyway and everyone act surprised. It’s enough to make you pull your hair out.

Strat has the knowledge and the authority to act on it, I can’t say, that in her position I wouldn’t act the same way.

That is the major difference between Grace and Strat: viewpoint. By necessity of her position and by virtue of her education, she sees the big picture clearly, Grace, however, doesn’t. He’s a microbiologist, his entire career and education is looking closely at the small things and how they would translate to big things. He studies the universe by studying the smallest things in it. It is no surprise that he would need the smaller things to make the bigger things to snap into focus. When he was forced to start research on astrophage, it wasn’t until he was faced with the small scale (his kids could suffer) to make him see his part in the grand scheme of things. Strat is right, he does avoid risk, because he’s avoiding pain, he doesn’t let things in because he feels too much. Yes, the realization about the kids, puts steel in his spine, but not before he narrowly avoids a break down. For Grace, seeing Strat’s point of view, without being able to work it though to his scale, is like yelling at someone standing too close to a mountain for not being able to see the peak. It just can’t be done from where they are.

It makes me wonder, had Strat been up front with Grace, would he have willingly gone? It takes him a while to come around to the idea of helping the project in the first place. If he were told sooner, given some time, had been able to go home, and think, I feel like he would have gone. Something would have set him on the course. Maybe it would have been one of his former students, telling him about their plans for trying out for high school track, or going to college, maybe he would have gone to his usual cafe for breakfast and found out that one of the waitresses had just gotten engaged, maybe he would be told these things and see the fear and desperate need to keep life as normal as possible in the person's eyes, and then he would decide, if, on the off chance no one else could go, he would. Until he remembers his refusal, nearly at the end of the book, he accepts quickly that he volunteered for the mission. Of course, that could have been simply because he couldn't imagine someone forcing someone into something like that, but even as his memories and sense of self come back to him, he doesn't have a sense of terror or blind panic at the fact that he's not going home. I would think that if his unwillingness were something hard wired into his personality, he would know soon after remembering who he is, that he would have never considered being a part of the voyage.

So, I think, had Strat told Grace early on that he had the coma resistant genes and that there was a small possibility that he may have to be the backup for the backup, and then allowed him to come to terms with it, he would have gone without the drama. Don’t get me wrong, there is the possibility that he would have run off and had to have been hunted down, but I think, just like when he went to his class and saw his students, something would have made his conscious kick in, and he would have come back.

That might have been interesting, him running scared for a little while and then coming back? Might have given a little more background into why he is the way he is. But that’s not really what this book is about, I think it’s a forgone about conclusion that Grace would have helped, but what’s really interesting is how Grace and Rocky work together.

Rocky is cool! I love that Weir didn’t go the easy route with the creation of an alien character. Rocky is no Roswell gray with a humanoid form. No no, for our sympathetic alien, we have a spider like creature with liquid mercury for blood who “sees” with echolocation and speaks in musical notes. And it works!!

Rocky is expressive and funny and is great with Grace. It’s hilarious, other than the Russian scientist on Project Hail Mary, he doesn’t get along with anyone as well as he does with Rocky, out of everyone in the book, Grace connects most with a spider shaped rock being, he has to make a computer program to speak with.

Rocky is a tad steadier than Grace, but that makes sense simply because of the two, Rocky knew what he was getting into, and Eridens not only have more time before their star dims to the point of causing a problem, but also, they live a long long time, so, Rocky knows he is going home. But the steadiness is also built into his personality. He and Grace are both analytical problem solvers, but seeing that Rocky is an engineer, his focus is to fix things. A problem arises, and his first reaction is “I will fix that.” He won’t be dissuaded until he has all avenues exhausted.

Grace has a habit, early on, of moping for a little while before rallying and getting to work. His interaction with Rocky brings that pouting time down a bit, and he even pulls Rocky out of a slump a time or two.

The relationship between these two is interesting because Grace says flat out that he is not a social person, he feels awkward in groups with people. But he easily communicates with his students, and he easily communicates with Rocky. Rocky is not childlike, but he does have something in common with the students, Grace, like any teacher, teaches his students, and learns from them. Grace teaches Rocky and learns from him. Grace is comfortable with this sort of interaction; with his students this is where the relationship stops. With Rocky, it doesn’t have that boundary. By virtue of the fact that both are alone in space and crave interaction, they talk a lot. Also, activities that Grace is use to doing alone, Rocky’s culture requires to be done in pairs. The biggest: Sleeping.

Eridens do not sleep without another person watching them. So, he insists that he watch Grace sleep and that Grace watches him. It is not expressly said what other things Eridens don’t do alone, but it is implied (at least to me) that they work better in pairs or in groups. This is true of humans as well, but Grace in particular is a loner, even as he complains that science doesn’t happen with one scientist doing the work (and he’s right) but he does work alone even when the astrophage project opened up to more people, the feeling I get is that he still does most of his work alone unless asked to teach others, or forced to come along by Strat.

Grace quickly becomes acclimated to Rocky’s way of doing things, in an odd way, Grace is more comfortable being Eriden, than he is being human. And I really think that this is the crux of their relationship.

I read somewhere recently that family isn’t necessarily blood, but who you would bleed for.

I feel that Rocky and Grace would sacrifice themselves for their respective home worlds, but they will bleed for each other. Grace must go to a different star system to find family, which is actually really cool to me, because the story manages to have Grace have a story of growth and even a quiet redemption arc all with the background noise of a potential double Armageddon, and we manage not to lose sight of any of these elements. Add to this that the book will make you laugh, cry and think all at once. I love the Martian, but I honestly think this one is better!

#project hail mary #andy weir #book #books #revisit 21 #spoilers #major spoilers #book blogging 2021

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ghosthunthq · 3 years

Text

BFU: “The Mysterious Death of Dr. Eugene Davis”

Buzzfeed Unsolved True Crime

“The Mysterious Death of Dr. Eugene Davis”

Aeternus.Flamma

000

Prompt: ghost hunt but make it buzzfeed unsolved!AU (it can be with or without Gene being alive) i think that would be entertaining Submitted by Anonymous

000

[Intro music plays]

RYAN: [Narration] Today on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we discuss the mysterious death of Dr. Eugene Davis.

SHANE: Eugene?

RYAN: Yeah, Eugene.

SHANE: I only know, like, one other Eugene. When was this?

RYAN: Like, recent. If you’d let me get through the intro…

SHANE: Fine, fine. Go on.

RYAN: As I was saying, today we discuss the mysterious death of Dr. Eugene Davis, one of the most renowned mediums of our time.

SHANE: Medium. Right.

RYAN: Yes, medium. Dr. Davis, known as Gene to his family, has been called the perfect medium–no other person has thus far been able to so accurately communicate with other spirits. Not only could he channel on near demand, but he also showed, on numerous occasions, speaking fluently in languages he did not know.

SHANE: Oh, sure. Like that can’t be faked. This bullshit has been literally faked for hundreds of years. Picking up a few lines in French isn’t exactly convincing. I’ve said it before. All psychics are bullshit.

RYAN: Yeah, fine, maybe not. But how about entire conversations with loved ones in Russian? Or Arabic? Can–can you do that?

SHANE: Just cause–okay, well, you can learn languages. There are people out there who have learned dozens of languages over their life–

RYAN: Did I mention he was sixteen?

SHANE: …

RYAN: Yeah, think about that a bit more. He’s seventeen and apparently he fluently speaks, uh, Japanese, Mandarin, Korean… English, French, Spanish, Italian, Portugese, Russian, Arabic… Like, people have tried to disprove this kid and–

SHANE: Wait you, said Dr. Eugene Davis.

RYAN: Yeah–

SHANE: Doctor?

RYAN: We’ll get to that.

SHANE: Yeah. Okay. I call bullshit now. This is already ridiculous.

RYAN: It gets weirder.

SHANE: Of course it does.

RYAN: [Narration] Dr. Davis’s sad story starts when he was a child, found in an American orphanage by famous parapsychologists, Martin and Luella Davis. The Davises adopted Gene and his brother, despite them showing know signs of speaking English.

SHANE: Martin and Luella didn’t speak English??

RYAN: No, Gene and his brother. They only spoke Japanese to one another.

SHANE: … They only spoke Japanese?

RYAN: Well, yeah, they’re Japanese, or, their parents were.

SHANE: You–uh–so he’s a psychic, Japanese child found in an American orphanage?

RYAN: Yeah. And he’s adopted by a British couple.

SHANE: Oh, they’re British?

RYAN: Yeah, they’re, like, the British version of the Warren’s–don’t roll your eyes.

SHANE: I thought this wasn’t the ghost season.

RYAN: It’s not–well, yeah, it’s not.

SHANE: There are ghosts involved, aren’t there?

RYAN: …

SHANE: This is great.

RYAN: [Narration] Gene and his brother Oliver, and no, those weren’t their birth names, but I couldn’t find those, were adopted by the parapsychologists and moved to the UK. From a young age, the brothers showed signs of having unique abilities.

SHANE: Both of them? The brother too?

RYAN: Uh, yeah. Oliver Davis, also a doctor by the way, has given demonstrations using psychokinesis, or PK. Telekinesis basically. Move shit with his mind.

SHANE: Interesting… And how old is he?

RYAN: They’re twins.

SHANE: Tw–twins! You’re kidding me!

RYAN: No, no that’s for real.

SHANE: So, you have two creepy children, freaking twins, in an orphanage, and they’re apparently psychic? This isn’t real life. This is a plot to a B movie.

RYAN: I don’t know what to tell you. I can show you the videos.

SHANE: Shopped.

RYAN: There’s–there’s a death certificate–

SHANE: I’m not saying this kid didn’t die, I’m saying that this is a hot, steaming pile of–

RYAN: Alright, alright, I get it. Let me get to his death.

SHANE: Fine.

RYAN: After jointly publishing a dissertation and receiving their honorary doctorates, Gene and his brother were accepted to Cambridge University. Before starting his study, Gene decided to travel to Japan, though accounts as to why he did so vary. What may have been a pilgrimage to visit distant relatives unfortunately turned disastrous as Gene disappeared.

SHANE: Was he traveling alone?

RYAN: Yes.

SHANE: Who lets a sixteen year old travel alone, especially overseas?

RYAN: Okay, well, one, if you’re going to do it, Japan’s the one place to do it, it’s pretty safe. Two, he had contacts he was visiting. It wasn’t like he was just wandering around completely alone, he just didn’t have the same person traveling with him the whole time. They have records of him, you know, like visiting schools, meeting with colleagues and stuff. He was apparently very personable and made friends easily.

SHANE: Yeah, well, that’s how people get killed. And based on how this is going–well there you go.

RYAN: [Narration] Gene Davis was last seen leaving the home of a friend one night. He left on foot, intending to walk back to the ryokan that he was staying at in the area. However, he never made it to his destination. Despite police being called very quickly, it would take months before his body was recovered.

SHANE: Okay, I guess I take it back. He at least had friends who called the cops, when, what, he didn’t text them back?

RYAN: Actually…

SHANE: Oh they didn’t? Okay, nevermind. Suspicious.

RYAN: So, his brother was the one who called the cops.

SHANE: His brother? But he didn’t go to Japan.

RYAN: No, he didn’t.

SHANE: ….

RYAN: [Narration] Though he couldn’t say how he knew to call the cops, Gene’s brother, Oliver, called anyhow and insisted that they do a check on his brother at the ryokan. When they arrived, the proprietors confirmed that they hadn’t seen the teen. It took a few days before Gene’s friends came forward, having no idea he was missing in the first place.

SHANE: More psychic shit?

RYAN: Uh, yeah, psychic… stuff. It was never publicly declared, but like, yeah, apparently Oliver had like, I dunno, psychic visions and knew something happened to his brother.

SHANE: Well–okay.

RYAN: You don’t actually sound that angry at that.

SHANE: No, I guess… Twins right? I mean, I may not believe in the oogie boogie crap, but there has been, you know, weird things between children. Weren’t there, like, those sisters? And they only talked to each other, but then decided one had to die…?

RYAN: Yeah, the Gibbons. The Silent Twins.

SHANE: There you go. Another weird twin story.

RYAN: Actually–okay, well, we’ll get into that. After nearly six months of searching, Oliver Davis ultimately recovered the body of his brother, who was found at the bottom of a lake in the countryside. He traveled to Japan and worked under a pseudonym, using family money to pay divers to search bodies of water.

SHANE: A lake? How did he–why did he–you know what, nevermind. Psychic. Right.

RYAN: Right. He, uh, saw his brother, I guess, drown.

SHANE: But psychic-ly.

RYAN: Yeah.

SHANE: Okay.

RYAN: Autopsy notes say that Gene was likely hit, uh, twice, by a car, and then tossed into the water while he was still alive.

SHANE: Jesus. Twice? What, did someone back up and hit him again?

RYAN: Actually, it seemed like he was hit and then someone reversed and backed over him. Based on breaks or something, I don’t know. I’m not an expert. But yeah, seems like at least the second one was intentional. He still wasn’t dead, though, and maybe could have survived.

SHANE: Until he was thrown into the water? That’s horrible. That seems intentional, or like, the worst person in the world getting into an accident. What kind of person could do that? It’s like stupid teenagers at the start of a horror movie–actually I’m pretty sure that is the start to a horror movie.

RYAN: Yeah, it’s terrible.

SHANE: And sixteen. Awful. Psychic shit or not, awful.

RYAN: It’s time to dive into theories on what happened to the young Dr. Eugene Davis.

RYAN: [Narration] Our first theory, and the most believable, is simply that Gene was hit on a dark road while walking back to his ryokan. The driver, finding themselves in a predicament, either backed up to see what they hit or intentionally did so in a state of panic. Regardless, it’s quite possible they believed that the teen was dead, and instead of calling the police, dumped the body in one of the numerous lakes in the area. The idea that it was simply an accident seems to have gained the most traction as there are no other serious suspects at this time.

SHANE: It’s unfortunate, but I guess I can see how it could have happened. It’s crazy that someone with such an insane background could meet such a munade end. Like, I thought for sure you would say it was ghosts or aliens.

RYAN: We still have two more theories.

SHANE: Of course we do.

RYAN: [Narration] The second theory has started circulating since the recovery of Gene’s body. Many people found the fact that Gene’s brother simply knew about the death to be suspicious. Some speculations, especially from skeptics of the psychics, believe that Oliver orchestrated the death of his brother. Both brothers proved to be highly intelligent, to the point where they’ve been called prodigies, and it wouldn’t be impossible for someone so cunning to plan such an elaborate ruse.

SHANE: Hm… Okay. I guess that’s possible… Do we–do we know anything about this Oliver? Why would he murder his brother? Like, is there any substance to this theory?

RYAN: Yeah, so, first, apparently, despite being twins, their personalities were night and day. Whereas Gene was pretty popular and, like, charismatic, his brother was–is, he’s still alive–not. So, it could have been jealousy. But, also, you’ve also mentioned the Silent Sisters–who agreed that one of them needed to die for the other to live.

SHANE: So, what, they were in on it together? If so, kinda seems like they picked the wrong brother.

RYAN: Yeah, kinda. Another popular theory for the whole, Oliver killed his brother concept, is that, much like the Fox sisters–who, if you don’t know, are some of the most famous ‘spiritualists’ in history–Gene wanted to confess that their psychic powers were fake. When one of the Fox sisters did that in the 1800’s, it ruined them. Maybe Oliver wasn’t willing to give up the clout that they had built off of their supposed abilities.

SHANE: That’s it. That’s the one.

RYAN: You like that one?

SHANE: Yeah. That makes a hell of a lotta sense. Sure, hit and run, maybe. But yeah, this Oliver seems suspicious. I’m on team: their powers were fake, Gene had a conscience, and as he was growing out of his teenage years, he wanted to leave it behind. Seems about right.

RYAN: Yeah–yeah, okay. Seeing the history of other psychic siblings… yeah, I can see how this makes sense.

SHANE: What happened to Oliver?

RYAN: Uh, well he’s still teaching at–

SHANE: He’s teaching?

RYAN: Yeah, like I said, prodigy. He’s been back to Japan a few times–recently he made the paper because he was involved in a fire on the island of Poveglia in Italy.

SHANE: So he’s an arsonist now?

RYAN: No, no, apparently there was a ghost hunt that went wrong and–

SHANE: He’s a ghost hunter?

RYAN: Okay, this is–this is a story for another time–the Ciao Poveglia mystery is–you know what, I’m just going to stop now. It’s a whole thing. Look into it.

SHANE: Okay. Fine. Last theory?

RYAN: [Narration] Our final theory is that Gene’s dealings with the afterlife came back to haunt him. Though no one can be certain exactly what Gene was doing, some true crime enthusiasts have put together a trail of his last known whereabouts in Japan. Supposedly, the trail can be traced back to a well known politician. Some believe that the spirits of individuals wronged by the politician spoke to Gene and he was working on gathering evidence to provide to the authorities.

SHANE: The spirits spoke to him. Right. Of course. Are there any scandals behind this politician?

RYAN: Uh–no. None. Well, there are rumors, but the, like, Redditors can’t even really settle on who the person is. So, it’s probably a bust.

SHANE: Could you imagine if that was true? Or like, you know, he thought it was true? And this kid just walked into the police station and said, I–I know that the, uh, prime minister killed and, uh, ate someone. How do I know? The ghosts told me! Dude would have been locked up so fast…

RYAN: Yeah, probably. It… doesn’t have a lot of credit behind it.

RYAN: [Narration] In the end, what actually happened to Dr. Eugene Davis, one of the most accomplished spiritualists of our time, will remain unsolved.

SHANE: Look, whatever happened, and whatever… skills… he might have had… it’s still unfortunate that someone died so young. It’s a shame.

RYAN: I’m guessing that I could show you all of his public research, and you would still never believe me.

SHANE: Uh… yeah that–that’s probably accurate.

RYAN: Wouldn’t it be pretty cool if we like, ran into Oliver on one of our investigations? Like, we just ended up at the same location?

SHANE: I mean, you did just offer up a theory that he’s a killer and I did agree with you. So. You know, no? Not because of any psychic stuff, but because we just trashed him online on a channel with a few million subscribers.

RYAN: Good point. Well. I’m sure that will never happen. [Outro Music Plays.]

000

Notes: please don’t ask me how far I have driven to see one of the few, live BFU shows. I’m a Watcher patreon and own MOST of their BFU/Watcher merch. It’s like this prompt was made for me. I’m working on a BFU Supernatural/GH fic now. Ciao Poveglia is referenced. Please check out the cleaned up, slightly updated version on AO3.

Ever your servant,

Aeternus.Flamma

#GHW2021 #Ghost Hunt #GHHQ #aeternus0flamma #BFU AU #submission

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

💫Moreid Masterlist

GIF by @criminalmindsvibez

Hurt/Comfort or Angst with a Happy Ending

🌊Still Left With the River

Derek wakes up to find his boyfriend crying on the sofa. Cue the hurt, the comfort, and the fluff.

1.6k, hurt/comfort, fluff, caretaker!derek, autistic spencer, crying, sad spencer

🌳Trees and Seas Have Flown Away, I Call it Loving You

Derek says something hurtful, but it happens to lead to just about the best thing that’s ever happened to Spencer.

3.2k, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, fighting/making up, angst with a happy ending, autistic spencer, coming out, getting together

🍓A Chronicle of Loss

5 people Spencer Reid lost and 1 person he gained. A look at the traumas Spencer faces over the series, and giving him the happy ending he deserves.

3.6k, grief, loss, abandonment issues, insecurity, depression, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, getting together, ‘didn’t know they were dating’, protective derek, autistic spencer

🍯Honeysuckle

The BAU decide to head out for a picnic one summer afternoon, but they’re soon rudely interrupted by a bee sting and anaphylactic shock. Seeing Spencer carted off in an ambulance is not exactly how they expected the day to go.

2.3k, whump, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, hurt spencer, friendship, medical conditions, severe allergic reactions

🌙The Noiseless Crash of Crumbling Walls

After Derek and Spencer are paired up on a science project in their senior year of high school, they become the closest, most unlikely friends possible. But what happens when Derek finally finds out what Spencer's dealing with at home? Inspired by the prompt “where did you get those bruises?”

4.5k, high school au, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, hurt spencer, protective derek, abuse, friendship, pre-slash, spencer just turned 16, derek is almost 18

🔥The Insistent Burn of a Falling Heart - part two

Derek is hopelessly in love with his childhood best friend, and he can't even escape him at home, since they're living together while they study at Cal Tech. He's resigned himself to a miserable, Spencer-less fate until lasagne, bad memories, and a whole lot of crying bring the real truth out into the open.

4.2k, hurt!spencer, fluff, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, getting together, college au, first kiss, misunderstandings

💔let him be soft (and let him be mine) part one // part two

After Derek pulls another self-sacrificing stunt at the culmination of their most recent case, Spencer runs out of their apartment as he desperately grapples with how it makes him feel. (Collab with @criminalmindsvibez! You can find her complimentary edit here.)

2.4k, hurt/comfort, crying, abandonment issues, injured!derek, hurt!spencer, miscommunication, angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective!derek

🪦how the cold numbs everything but grief

Six days after Emily dies, Spencer finds himself soaked in freezing water, catatonic on the bathroom floor. Only Derek can ease the roaring, burning, demanding agony of this grief.

1.2k, grief/mourning, emily’s ‘death’ in season six, hurt!spencer, hurt!derek, hurt/comfort, angst with a hopeful ending (serious tw for grief here)

✨storm-darkened or starry bright

Spencer contracts HIV. It all falls apart after that.

6.5k, angst, illness, hurt!spencer, hurt/comfort, worried derek, depression, mutual pining, getting together, angst w a happy ending

⛈this heavy humanness

Spencer leaves the oven on overnight, and Derek - whose pent-up emotions get the best of him - loses it, exposing secrets neither of them expected to be spilled, for two very different reasons. They get there in the end.

3.9k, est. rel., past abuse, arguing & making up, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, miscommunication hurt spencer

💤I turn and reach for you

Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

2.1k, nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations

Pure Fluff

🌒when I fall asleep (it is your eyes that I close)

Spencer’s not been sleeping, and as much as Derek adores his sleepy clinginess and physical affection, as soon as they get home he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

1.9k, fluff, hurt/comfort, sleep-deprivation, clingy!spencer, physical affection, anxiety, cuddling

🎄A Christmas Like This

Spencer has a very specific plan for their first Christmas in their new house, and it has to be absolutely perfect. Derek’s going to do everything in his power to make his boyfriend as happy as possible, even if that means a house covered in garlands and a tree covered in animal skeletons…

2.9k, fluff, christmas fic, est relationship, neurodivergence, romance, domesticity, day in the life

💍my heart talks about nothing but you

Derek finds Spencer staring longingly at dancing newlyweds while on a case and once he gets to the bottom of why he’s tasked with making a proposal to a man who knows it’s coming special somehow. (He pulls it off.)

2.5k, established relationship, hurt/comfort, minor angst, fluff, relationship discussions, proposal, protective derek

✨I told the stars about you - part two

Derek and Spencer have their first date. They dance to Frank Sinatra and cuddle in an ice cream parlour, before kissing the hell out of each other at Spencer's front door. That's pretty much it. (Prequel to above fic.)

2.1k, first date, first kiss, pure tooth-rotting fluff, dancing, flirting, protective derek

🎂I can’t hold enough of you in my hands - part three

Derek and Spencer are finally getting married and the rest of the BAU are there to help them through every step of the day. Including a little surprise that Derek has up his sleeve for their first dance. (Third part to the above two fics.)

3.1k, tooth-rotting fluff, marriage/wedding day, team as family, team dynamics, domesticity, paternal hotch, maternal alex, just a whole lotta love man

🔪Shovel Talk

Hotch and Emily find out about Derek's relationship with Spencer and decide it's time for a chat.

1.5k, fluff, humour, est. rel., protective!derek, emily, and hotch, relationship reveal, mentions of past hurt spencer

📚I’ll (Never) Know What It’s Like Not to Love You

Spencer finds his old journals in the attic, and he and Derek reminisce on the days they used to pine for one another. Luckily, those days are over, and they have forever ahead of them.

1.3k, tooth-rotting domestic fluff, past mutual pining, past hurt!spencer, cuddling & snuggling, late canon

Getting Together

🌨Even More Beautiful

The BAU is stuck in Michigan with no case and no way home, so naturally, Spencer and Derek confess their love for one another. (Based on the prompt ‘You look even more beautiful covered in snow.’)

3.5k, fluff, love confessions, shy spencer, insecurity, hurt/comfort

🎧Hear it in the Silence

A short, fluffy chronicle of Spencer realising in increments how in love with Derek he is, and navigating a real, beautifully sweet relationship that's not always smooth sailing, especially since he's been hurt before. (Based on Taylor Swift’s You are in Love.)

3.7k, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, dev relationship, tw past abuse, domesticity

🎅🏼Secret Santa

Penelope rigs the BAU’s Secret Santa game to finally get Derek and Spencer together with extraordinary success, and they have her to thank for their future first date. Oh, and a sprig of mistletoe nearly throws the whole thing out the window.

2.8k, fluff, getting together, insecurity/anxiety, christmas fic, first kiss, misunderstandings, friendship

🌳The One Constant

Derek wakes up after having his appendix removed with temporary amnesia from the anesthesia, and Spencer certainly isn't prepared for the man he's pined after for four years to a) not recognise him, and b) start flirting with him. It all works out in the end, with a little help from Hotch.

4k, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, insecure spencer, flirting, getting together, misunderstandings, first kiss

☕️i’ll retire my bones to make you tea and read you poetry

Derek doesn't exactly expect to invite a sleepy Spencer over for a movie night after a case, but his blinding smile in response makes him happy he did. The kiss they share the next morning makes him even happier.

3.6k, fluff, getting together, cuddling, insecure!spencer, pet names, mutual pining, light hurt/comfort, first kiss, love confessions

Embarrassed!Spencer Drabble

A misunderstanding at a BAU get together has Spencer embarrassed and a long-awaited kiss finally happening.

1.2k, fluff, angst, getting together, first kiss

📚100

Spencer's an academic researcher who spends every morning at his local library. Derek just happens to drop by one Tuesday and ask the pretty boy in the classics section if he can help him find a book. Sparks fly.

2.1k, library au, fluff, meet-cute, pining, shy spencer, coming out

💣Mayhem

Imagine that scene in S4E1 when Derek is driving the ambulance loaded with a bomb about to explode, except it’s Spencer on the other end of the phone and they finally get their shit together.

4.2k, canon divergence, spencer is the tech analyst, getting together, mutual pining, insecure spencer, angst with a happy ending, fluff, declarations of love

🧑🏻‍🦽 dry me off and hold me close

Derek has finally relented and is bringing his boyfriend Spencer to meet the rest of the team. That means, though, he has to finally tell them about his boyfriend's disability. Terrified that they'll react badly, he puts it off until he can't anymore. Turns out he was worried for nothing

5.7k, so much fluff, protective derek, disabled spencer, caretaker derek, spencer is not in the bau, team as family, hurt/comfort, light angst, est. rel, chronic illness, slice of life: disabled edition

💐I’ll bloom for you (while my heart still cries)

(Based on the age-old tumblr prompt) "Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery and today you've caught me and insisted on coming with me to make sure the 'girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft' and I'm trying to figure out how to break it to you that we're on our way to a graveyard."

3.7k, fluff, meet-cute, au: student spencer, fbi agent derek, hacker penelope, grief & mourning, shy spencer, getting together, mutual pining

🌖This Gravitational Pull

Penelope Garcia sets her two best friends Derek & Spencer up on a blind first date. Even with the best intentions and highest expectations, no-one could've predicted it would go quite this well.

2.9k, fluff, first date, au: diff first meeting, shy spencer, insecurity, anxiety, flirting, cuddling, protective derek, silly amounts of affection

#criminal minds #criminal minds masterlist #criminal minds fic #moreid #moreid fic #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid

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kaitycole · 3 years

Text

a future with(out) you

Summary: Where do you fit in Oikawa’s life after he says his future is just full of volleyball?

Warnings: Angst to fluff

Pairing: Oikawa x Reader

Word Count: 1851

A/N: Thanks for the request, @burntpeachie. I hope you enjoy it.

It has been seven years since you started dating Oikawa. Your relationship began the second year of high school, it survived the five years post-graduation that included your four years of college and first year of working while he had spent those five years in Argentina living out his dream. Which was why something didn’t feel right after watching his latest TV interview.

“Oikawa-san, what does the future have in store for you now that you are heading back to Japan?”

He smiled his bright smile, the one that made men and women alike swoon. “More volleyball.”

Volleyball.

If you never heard about that sport again, it would be too soon. Volleyball had consumed your life since the day you met Oikawa and while you love him, while you want to support his dreams, his ambitions, you just thought that he might make more time for you. Maybe if you could somehow turn into a ball made of leather consisting of eighteen rectangle panels, you might get some attention.

The door opens and you smile just a little when you see Oikawa walk in. He had gone out with Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Iwaizumi since he finally had some free time after having moved back home. He has settled into your apartment effortlessly which just felt right, but your stomach is still in knots after thinking about that interview all day.

“Hi.” You don’t want to be upset, you know he said what he did for a reason, but it still hurt. You have chiseled away a place in your life for him, kept it free from anything else, but it doesn’t feel like he had done the same for you, leaving you to wonder if he ever had or if the place he made for you had gotten filled with something else.

“Hey sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead, sitting next to you. “I’m still not used to this, to knowing that there’s no flight to catch in less than 53 hours and that me being here in permanent.” He rests his head on your shoulder, lazily tracing the lines on your palm with his fingers.

“Speaking of, do you want me to help unpack some of your boxes? I really don’t mind.” You run your fingers through his hair, smiling when you feel him nuzzle his face against your shoulder.

“No, don’t worry about them. It’s fine.”

You bite your lip, once against his simple words shouldn’t bother you as much as they do. Your relationship weathered the storm of long distance, surely it could withstand anything, right? But again, your stomach knots up, doubt sinking in that maybe he doesn’t plan on staying here long. That maybe with his higher level of fame, a larger number of fans, that maybe he didn’t want to fully unpack because he was planning on leaving you. Why else would he need to keep boxes left packed and sealed if he actually planned on having a life with you here?

* * A few weeks have passed since Oikawa moved back to Japan and to say his behavior has been strange would be an understatement. He seems to have gotten jumpy, constantly logging his phone screen, flipping his phone over and even walking into a different room to take certain phone calls. You hate it, you never thought he would cheat on you, but you at least hoped he would be more creative about it.

Today is particular you’re just completely fed up. He woke you up way earlier than you wanted when his phone went off and he literally flew out of bed and into the living room to take it, you kicked on of his still packed boxes and he seems to be in a whole different world. By the time you get home from work, you’re done, done with today, done with his behavior, you just can’t take it anymore.

“Hey, Y/N!”

“Oh, so you do know my name?”

Oikawa stops midway off the couch, half standing, half sitting. “Huh?”

“The last few weeks you’ve been a blur and even when you are here, you are mentally somewhere else or checking your phone.” You roll your eyes as you walk through the living room, dropping your bags on the countertop in the kitchen.

“I don’t follow.” “Do you even want to be here? To be with me?” You cross your arms, face twisted in irritation.

He stands up, walking over to you, “Of course. What kind of question is that?”

“More volleyball. That’s what you said.”

Oikawa is entirely too confused at this moment, trying to figure out when he said that and why you were repeating it.

You watch as he tries to come up with a reply, trying to formulate a response, but you just want to be far away from him. You’ve let this irritation, this anger fester and now it was demanding to come out.

“In your last interview, you said your future held ‘more volleyball.’” You use air quotes, “I guess I just thought I had a plan in there somewhere, but was wrong.”

You watch as his shoulders drop and his expression switches from confused to somewhat heartbroken. He tries to grab out to you, but you slip pass him, grabbing your purse and going back to the door.

“I need some space.”

Oikawa stands there, words jumbled up in his throat as you slam the door shut. He thinks back to the interview and still struggled with why what he said was so upsetting to you.

“What Shittykawa?”

“So rude, Iwa-chan. Is that really how you answer the phone?” Oikawa balances the phone on his shoulder as he starts going through one of the packed boxes.

“Just when you call.” He rolls his eyes when he hears Iwa chuckle. “What do you need?” “Y/N just left, pretty upset. Apparently, my last interview upset them.”

“Well duh. You basically said that your future only held volleyball, you didn’t even mention Y/N.”

Oikawa stops rummaging through the box and is shocked. He never thought of it like that, but in his defense, he was trying to protect you too. High school was rough with the groups of fans he attracted, he didn’t want to think how bad it could get to publicly mention you.

“I didn’t think of it like that.” “Cause you’re a dumbass.” Oikawa rolls his eyes, internally cheering as he finally finds what he’s been looking for. “Wait, you watched my interview? Aw Iwa-chan, you love me.”

“It was the only thing on.” “Why were you up so early?” “Bye Oikawa. Fix things with Y/N or I’ll hit you.”

* * An hour passes before you finally return to the apartment. When you left, you told yourself you’d call some friends, meet up and stay out late, but they were all busy and you ended up just walking around. You found your way into a small shop, the kind that have a little bit of everything before accepting defeat and heading home. It’s quiet when you open the door and dark, maybe Oikawa had left too. That thought hurt you because you didn’t mean it when you said you wanted space, you wanted the opposite, you wanted the Tooru that clung to you, the one who invaded your personal space more than he didn’t.

You’re really surprised when you see candle lit, did you even own candles? You walk down through the living room, kitchen and partially down the hall before you hear the apartment door open, Oikawa coming back in.

“Y/N! You’re home, thank goodness.” He lets out a sigh of relief, “come here.”

Hesitantly you walk back into the living room, sitting next to Oikawa.

“I’m sorry.” He grabs your hands, “I didn’t think carefully enough when I did that interview.” “It’s fine, Tooru.” You watch his eyes light up when you use his given name.

“It’s not, because I’ve not been doing a good enough telling you things.” He takes a deep breath, “I guess I’ve always saw you in my future so I didn’t think it was important to say it. But leaving you to assuming those things aren’t fair to you.”

“Really? You see me in your future?” You bite your lip, tears pooling in your eyes.

“I can’t see one without you, at least not a good one.” He places a hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheek, gently wiping away the tear that slips down it. “I’m sorry I don’t say it enough, but I promise to get better.”

You want to enjoy the moment, to let the love you feel wash over you, but you just can’t drop his recent and borderline shady behavior. “If you want to be together, why have you been acting all weird?”

His face drops and you fear that maybe you caught him in a lie. He fiddles with something in his pocket, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I was hoping to do this another time, but oh well.” He pulls out a small red box, handing it to you.

“I love you and I clearly don’t say it enough, but a life without you isn’t something that I want. Volleyball is important to me and without your support I don’t know what I’d do, but you, Y/N, you are more important to me. If I could redo the interview, I’d say that my future has more of you in it because I don’t have to worry about leaving the country anymore or scheduling phone calls at the most bizarre hours. I guess what I’m trying to say with all of this is, will you marry me?”

“Just one question before I answer, okay?”

“Of course, ask anything.”

“Why have you been hiding your phone?” You fidget with the box in your hand, the velvet material brushes against your fingertips.

“You just love ruining all the surprises, eh?” He laughs, “I’ve been talking to my sister’s friend. She’s a realtor and has been helping me look for a bigger apartment. I know you’ve been here for a while and I wasn’t going to rent anything without talking to you first, but I thought a bigger place might be nice. A place that’s ours especially for this chapter in our life. If you say yes, of course.”

You feel like an idiot, upset with yourself for doubting your relationship, doubting your boyfriend. Tears trickle down your cheeks, Oikawa quickly wiping them away, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” He kisses your lips softly, “I was acting super strange, I’d probably feel the same way if roles were reversed.”

“Of course I’ll marry you.” You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you.

When you pull back, he takes the box, slipping the ring on your finger. He brings your hand to his lips, kissing your ring finger over and over until you start laughing. You smile brightly when his eyes meet yours before he rests his head on your chest.

“Tooru?” “Mmm?”

“I love you.” “I love you too.”

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #hq angst to fluff

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ldouble · 3 years

Text

Helluva Party | Steve Rogers x Reader

summary: As a former employee of S.H.I.E.L.D (on the very front lines), you're somehow pulled into attending a notorious Tony Stark party. That’s where you meet Steve Rogers, officially, and the two of you weirdly click. Two people - trying to make a new life, who keep getting sucked into their old ways.

characters: steve rogers x reader

The elevator effortlessly glides up, but your stomach feels like you’re on the twistiest and turniest roller coaster. You have to put a hand to your torso, repeat the words you tell patients when they feel sick for no reason, remind yourself it’s nothing.

Therapy is one thing to talk someone down from. When you’re calming someone down, its because they’re about to do some major self discovery, scientifically aided, and healed if not completely cured.

They have no reason to worry.

And neither do you.

But Stark Tower is intimidating. Especially when it hosts everything you’ve been trying to forget.

You got a fresh start last year. S.H.I.E.L.D fell. Your work dried up. There was no where else you were needed. Enough had been accidentally cut on your watch with your knife throwing skills. So you did what you always wanted, before your deathly hobby turned into a career. You were now working as a psychiatrist. You got out of your own head to get into others.

Now, you were suddenly crawling back into the brains that you had almost become.

The stop of the elevator had you poised to hit the close door button, ready to make your way back down to the lobby to grab a cab home to your apartment. But your psychologist mind took over, the practice what you preach mentality overtaking, and your finger fell.

By the time the doors opened with a ding, your chin was up and head held somewhat high. It was the quickest reset you had ever performed. If only you had your notorious notebook to jot down how it had worked so well.

You had just remembered the old receipt in your clutch (dated with the last time you dressed up which was ages ago) that you could write on when someone yelled your name. At the sight of Natasha Romanoff, the idea of writing down your findings flew out the window.

“Nat!” You smile, accepting the Russian’s hug.

She reciprocates the action, asking more questions than you usually got out in an hour session with a routine client.

By the time you had make it to the bar you are filled in on all she had been up to, the details of the latest mission in retrieving of Loki’s scepter and all things Bruce.

Natasha gulps at you look once she finished retelling the doctor’s recent findings with the tesseract. She was already shaking her head at your silent implications when you placed a gentle hand over hers.

“As a doctor myself,” Natasha rolls her eyes at the mention of your new job. “No one talks that much about me unless they like me way more than a doctor.”

Natasha bites her lip, mumbling something about how you outfit was too nice to kick me. You laughed, a hearty laugh you hadn’t felt in ages. Upon seeing her recognize the newfound happiness you shooed her behind the bar in ask for a drink.

She waltzes away giving you just enough time to collect yourself once again. You hate to admit it (acceptance was always the hardest step of grief) but you missed her. You missed the days of fighting, working, living and saving.

It was harder to see the goals you met in your new line of work. It took years to build a client base, see your patients make progress, feel like you’re helping people when all you can do is listen.

It never felt good to kill someone. The sound of a blade whipping through the air was satisfying but nothing felt better than knowing there was less person doing the opposite of helping. Hurting. Hunting. Killing.

So why did you feel like you were doing something similar not being in the field?

You blink the thoughts away, turning to wave Nat down for something a little stronger than a beer when you saw her chatting it up with none other than Dr. Banner. You shake your head, your eyes moving back down the bar.

Your focus is caught by a brooding blonde. A literal God, named Thor. But its his neighbor that makes you freeze. Tony Stark never really had that effect on women (it was his money that enticed them not his looks) but the mere sight of him makes you gasp.

Your last conversation hadn’t been the most pleasant. You had refused a job at Stark Industries, believing you needed a clean break. He had pressed you to the point of pure anguish. The last thing you remember saying to him was something along the lines of, “You can’t ask me to stay to help you sort out whatever that is.” With a point at his head.

You quickly turn around, not wanting a repeat when he already had a glass of champagne in his hand. Sober Tony was obnoxious. Intoxicated Tony was a whole other level of big headedness.

You make your way through the party, ignoring the likes of anyone who looks remotely familiar. The few who had stayed loyal to the real S.H.I.E.L.D rather than turn in favor for HYDRA had come over, just like Tony asked you to. It was unclear who was worse to be trapped into a conversation with - someone who knew why you were no longer involved or those who didn’t.

You find your way up to a second floor hallway, one side looking out onto the party while the other faced the skyline. Uninterested in people watching (a reason that sounded much more mature than not wanting to be recognized) you face the large windows out onto the city.

You spin on your heel, your eyes traveling from the lights outside to inside when your eyes glaze over the very face of the Avengers.

But it isn’t Captain America’s face that caught your attention, rather the conversation his friend was spitting.

“Avenging is your world.” Sam Wilson, The Falcon, shakes his head into space, before turning to face the party just across the aisle. “Your world is crazy.”

It was your turn to shake your head, biting your lip in a weird resonation of his words. His next words, be it ever so humble, about the entire situation.

He was right. You know it, too. This world of fighting was hectic. Chaos. It really shouldn’t exist. But then you’d look out over some fancy party and it’s be easy to grasp. It wasn’t the alcohol or glamour, it was the aura that it had.

“You find a place in Brooklyn yet?”

The Super Soldier held back his own chuckle. “I don’t think I can afford a place in Brooklyn.”

It was hard to believe but easy to understand. It was an expensive burrow. Still, you found yourself laughing under your breathe.

Sam said something about home being home, which you also understood, but only between a laugh. Your breathy sound ends just as Tony’s favorite team member looked back at you.

The next thing out of your mouth was a gasp for air, followed quickly by a cough you tried to cover up. You face the window, trying your best to play it off. The sudden eye contact scares you. First it was the fear of being recognized. That outrageous thought was quickly thrown out.

The thing is, you hadn’t exactly...met him. It felt wrong to even think of him as Steve Rogers when you’d never been introduced. Anytime Nat mentioned him you couldn’t believe the first name basis they had. You weren’t starstruck - not by a lot. You’d spent time in labs with Iron Man and the Hulk. You grabbed coffee with Black Widow. Thor had given you a freaking birthday gift.

No super soldier named Captain America scared you.

Except the one sidling up next to you now.

“Hi, there.” He says, bending down to grab your attention.

And right then, after feeling immense anxiety and worry of coming face to face with anyone who worked for the thing you had left behind, you felt perfectly comfortable in front of their very leader.

You’d been listening to Tony too much, through Nat. Captain America was the elected leader. Tony just made everybody look good.

“Hi.” You say, bringing yourself out of your head.

His blue sparkled, a lopsided smile reaching his lips as his hand reaches out to you. “Have we met?”

“Almost.” You say automatically, the word being more of a thought you wanted to keep than share. You shake your head, correcting yourself. “No.”

“Steve.” He says after learning your name. You can tell the way he locks it away, his eyes slightly closed as if grabbing the word from your mouth and putting it in storage. “I’m sorry, were you almost put in ice too or did you see me through a subway door closing?”

You can’t help the smile on your face, his humor and charm exactly what you expected. “No.” A hand find your hair and you watches the way his eye tracked the small scar on your finger. It was from when you were five. You cut yourself with a knife, a knife you weren’t supposed to be holding. From that point on your swore you’d never hold a knife again if you didn’t know how to use it. You thought that meant culinary school. Not becoming a dagger throwing agent.

Your other hand traces the mark, that runs from the tip of your left pointer finger to the center of your knuckles.

“I used to be in a similar business.”

You watch Steve accept the answer, silently deciphering your words. To relieve him you continued, now having a better thought to go off of. “I save people. From themselves.”

“I’m a psychiatrist.” You conclude, wanting to put him out of his misery. You crack a smile, earning one from him. He bobs his head, looking out into the city, thinking. You could tell, again, facial cues. You did a lot of listening and watching now. A few years ago you would’ve thrown a blade to trap his shirt against a wall while another went to his throat to demand a response.

You sort of like watching him form his words.

A question, expertly designed, was on the tip of his tongue when a booming voice yells his name. Thor waved from below enthusiastically. You quickly turn, not wanting to start a conversation with the God of Thunder. He always seemed to get you into existential conversation. In the old English, and it being so late, you couldn’t handle it.

“Don’t leave him waiting or else he’ll send Mjollnir up here.” You say, already backing away.

Steve looks up at you, a playful smile hinted at his lips. But it didn’t reach the surface, curiosity and confusion at your sudden departure the priority.

You want to stay. But the thought of explaining...of answering...even the oh so amazing Captain America, has you wanting to run back to the elevator.

The only reason you exit the conversation rather than the entire building...is the slight beat of your heart and reddening of your cheeks at the idea of talking with him again. Unlike Thor, you could even get into all the existential stuff with him.

Exactly what the super soldier would deem too out of the box is on your mind when you run into the one person you don’t want to see. The host himself.

Tony takes you under his wing, literally, walking you around the party. Surprisingly enough, not once does he convince you to come back to work. He asks questions and wants to know all about you.

You oblige, enlightening him with tiny details. Your lack of confidence in the authenticity isn’t from lack of trust, but because you spend more time inquiring about him. Wordlessly, that is your psych perception takes over as you study him. You conclusion: he’s only asking about lowly you because he’s sitting high and dry. Which isn’t a new thing for Tony Stark, tech mogul and THE Iron Man. But something tells you his latest win isn’t one just shared with the public yet. Too good to be true, even to the optimist that is Tony.

He leaves you, letting you walk around for the rest of the party. Hours pass, partygoers dwindling both from the penthouse and your data set to people watch. Numbers low on who to analyze, you turn around in a circle, sure you couldn’t have taken in every person in attendance. A full 180 and you come face to face with the man with a target on your back.

He makes sure of your hunch, that he’s had it out for you, with the sly comment, “You ditch a Brooklyn boy for some Staten Islander?”

You look over your shoulder, playing along. “I was actually waiting for this guy from Manhattan to fetch me a drink.” You look back at him, his head titled in focus. You stumble for a moment, not used to the attention being on you. To the floor you say, “I don’t think city guys are good at service.”

“it’s a damn good thing you’re with a soldier.” He smiles, offering his arm as he steps beside you.

You hesitate, your knowledge on attraction and how one simple touch can lead to a million mistakes and miscommunications. You let your head take over your heart this time, walking ahead of him. “Last I checked, Captains don’t fetch anything for someone else.”

Accepting the (slight) rejection, Steve joins into step with you, his hands stuffing into his pockets. “You make me sound like Stark.”

“We all sound a little like him after too much time together.” You shrug. Catching Steve’s curious eye, clearly wondering how and when you worked with Tony, you saddle up behind the bar to distract yourself. “It’s called mirroring behavior. Say, I grab a beer you have a higher chance of doing the same just because of me.”

Steve smiles at you over the counter, watching as you open the bottle and take a swig. “But what if I just like beer?”

You roll your eyes, bringing the cider to your lips. “Or so you say.”

“You’re good at your job. Tony help you with that?”

You nearly choke on your drink. Why? It’s a toss up for the unexpected question or the tone of jealousy you think you detect in his voice. Upon looking at him you can’t see if your suspicion is correct. He’s casual, leaning an elbow on the table and gazing around the room without a care.

When his eyes find yours again you can’t help but trust him. You deem it the authority he has within his role, rather than something like the way he looks at you or how cute he is, before answering. “He wishes my career took me here. But after the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D,” It’s Steve’s turn to look at you to ensure trust, your words an unspoken truth among so many secret keepers. “I found my way into a new line of work.”

You turn to your left, finding a spec on the marble to transfix on. When he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even chastise you for so openly talking about the failure of his former employer, you look up at him. Only for your eyes to track his, to none other than your hand.

You hadn’t even realized you were still holding the can opener. it was a wine/bottle mix and you had the corkscrew raised and the entire contraption being spun in your hand like....like a knife.

Mirroring. In a room of superheroes and fighters, you resort back to your own ways. You remind yourself this is exactly why you weren’t supposed to come when Steve speaks.

“Reading people?” He asks, genuine interest in his voice. You see his eyes barely flit back to your hand, forcing you to set the church key down, but ignore it, just like he is choosing to do. You nod. “Can you read them?”

You follow his finger, stifling a laugh when it lands on Nat and Bruce, clearly flirting just down the bar.

“Reading, not pointing.” You reprimand with sarcasm, quickly covering his hand. Heat travels up your elbow, your hand flying back to the cold corkscrew for comfort as you clear your throat. Steve’s eyes wanders away and for a second you think he felt it too when you shake your head. There are patients. No time to dilly dally.

After a moment you say,“From a psychiatric point of view, I’d say the male is exerting immense amount of dopamine, just getting by the stressors and paraysmpathic nervous system. Whereas the female’s self esteem is battling her body’s immediate release of cortisol.”

Steve looks up at you, his mouth hung open. As dryly as you can, you say, “He likes her and she likes him.”

It sparks a laugh from both of you, a long one that doesn’t end till he puts his hand over yours in an effort to stop. You let it rest, liking the feeling of the cold marble and his warm hand more than any old corkscrew.

“So how you going to diagnose them?” He asks, clearing his throat and suddenly removing his hand.

You tilt your head toward the pair - an assassin and a man who can’t control his killing - and take a second to think. That second is when Nat decides to leave, gliding past you effortlessly. As she walks by you say to Steve, more so to yourself, “It’s hard for people to hear the truth.”

Steve is looking over to Bruce when you tip your head back to him. You can see the question on the tip of his tongue and you want to stop him but he’s too quick.

Don’t play cupid, is the second most common thing you say to clients. Right after the ‘truth is hard to hear’ piece.

You can’t help but put your head in your hands when he outrightly says Bruce and Romanoff “is nice”. It’s a psychologists worst nightmare. Not the one you thought you’d see play out but it’s happening, so you can’t help but listen.

It’s the way Bruce stumbles in reply that sends you walking down the bar. You throw Steve nothing but a “watch yourself’ look before listening from your new spot.

You clink your nearly empty beer bottle on the counter when Bruce comes up with an excuse. It does more than you plan it too, as it grabs Steve’s attention and has him going for another one and making his way over to you. You can’t help but notice the way he smiles sincerely at his friend when announcing himself a leading authority in waiting too long. The statement makes you pause, but not long enough to miss Bruce asking about exactly how close Steve was to Nat’s flirting..

“Pointing works.” He says when he arrives in front of you, the unopened bottle extended (if not pointed) directly at you.

You accept, clinking off the cap with the opener still in your hand. “Yeah, yeah.”

He watches you take a sip, his eyes once again telling more than he thinks they do.

Your hand, once again holding the opener in the knife-life way is his next question. For once, you want to keep the conversation about work.

“My job is to listen. What you just did was talk.”

Steve mulls it over, taking the beer form your hand and tipping it back. He holds it out you, in offering. “OK. You talk. I’ll listen.”

You bite your lip. Knowing this could be bad. There’s a reason you listen. Talking...it’s like any pointy object for you. Someone always ends up stabbed.

Then again, how seriously injured could Captain America get? You already have one scar. A “Star Spangled Man with a Plan” shaped wound could be your next story.

A new blemish never arises. You don’t even feel so much as a pinch of pain. Talking to Steve, for hours, makes you feel about as painless as you been ever since you left the line of work.

Then again, your old career never makes an appearance in conversation. He did ask about your current career so that’s what you talk about. Psychology. Which leads to music. TV. His favorite food and how its Apple Pie. He doesn’t listen when you insist Pumpkin is better.

Your love of Chinese food is perfectly timed to the late night order, scoring you a seat and a plate at the after-party, so to speak.

That’s where you find yourself, on the couch with a small cluster of people. Most of which are the ones you had planned to ignore. Rhodey, Tony, Clint, Maria Hill, and Nat don’t as much as eye you suspiciously, thankfully. Besides, you mostly people watch, only talking when Steve wants some insight on whether or not Thor is really spiking his drink or giving him something watered down.

You share a look with Thor, encouraging the addition of it into Steve’s next beer, when Clint questions the God’s almighty hammer. You laugh when Clint looks at the thing bewildered at his inability in to lift it.

Steve joins you in softened laughter at Stark’s attempts. His head finds your shoulder when Rhodey and him quarrel about representing in their effort to pull the hammer off the table. But he refuses to make so much as a peep when Banner tries to “Hulk” it up, saying he doesn’t want to hurt the guy’s chances with Nat.

Before you can tell him Bruce could do no wrong in the red head’s eyes, it’s Steve’s turn. The way he rolls up his sleeves, making it clear he’s taking it seriously, has you silent. You can tell a lot by a person in the way they go about a challenge. it doesn’t surprise you at all, despite the short time you two have talked, that Steve goes for it.

It’s no shock at all that your attention switches to Thor. The look of panic, which you’re sure only you are watching, astounds you. Never once had the God been this nervous. But here he was, holding his tongue as Steve nudged the alien club up.

Steve comes back to you in defeat. You offer him a supportive pat on the back, having his eyes for all but a moment until everyone’s eyes land on you. Recognizing Nat just turned down the offer you shake your head. “Lift with your brain, not your weak bones.”

Steve gives you an impressed look, opening his mouth to call you out when Hill remarks the use of bad language.

“I had a feeling you’d be a stickler for that.” You theorize aloud.

Steve looks at you over his shoulder, raising a brow. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” You reiterate.

Thor proves you all wrong, effortlessly lifting his weapon of choice, declaring no one worthy.

The group laughter is cheerful and it warms your heart. Something about comfort between all of these people who live so dangerously, intrigues you. Your mouth opens to ask Steve how he’s come to trust them when a high pitched noise floods the space and has you covering your ears.

Your breath catches at the sight of a botched bot, standing in the shadows. Its robotic voice, oddly human, has you biting on your lip. It’s been a while since you’ve been faced with anything worse than a crying client.

Something tells you this won’t end in tissues and a hug.

Steve, who stood upon the unaccounted for noise, says Tony’s name with more frustration that you could ever imagine coming out of the man. You look up to him in surprise, only to look back at the way his hand is flexed in front of you. It’s a poor job at guarding you but something tells you that if he had his shield within reach he’d have grabbed it already.

The bot piques yours interest, his mumbled statements about his own sleep like unscnoius state making you nervous. The way he’s so...real...takes forefront over Tony’s own whispering. But even without your focus directly on him, something tells you he’s unsure. It’s never a good sign when the host is surpised.

You slowly stand as the intruder fumbles with himself. You’re studying him so discreetly you actually wave away Steve’s warning hand.

“You killed someone?”

“No he didn’t.” You murmur, only loud enough for Steve to hear. He gazes back at you for a moment and you shake your head, confirming your suspicion. The...thing in front of you is no real killer. Not yet.

When Tony’s voice rings out from the bot the tension rises in the room. You couldn’t cut it with a knife it’s so thick...which takes a lot for someone with the throwing capabilities of yourself.

You don’t mind it, knowing the pressing threat stands in front of you rather than beside. The wise words erupting from the in flesh Ultron has you racking your brain...about nothing less than the brain in front of you. Computers have never outsmarted you. Then again, it’s been a while since you’ve been around Tony.

His building - in tone and message- signals something much more violent is about to begin. No sane person builds a mountain of words not to stand on it later. Maria Hill cocks her gun as you take in your surroundings. You believe a chopstick to be your best option for a weapon, at least one you can throw, when the crash of walls begins the battle you were really hoping not to get into tonight.

It’s like Steve senses your lack of protection, taking it upon himself to upchuck the table for cover. Instinctively, you crowd down in front of the couch, just missing the hit that Steve takes with the attempted cover.

A big part of you wants to make sure he’s OK, scream his name and chase after him, but it’s not the time. People come to you to recover with your help. Steve isn’t one of those people.

So, you go into survival mode.

You army crawl across the room, watching every disappear from the main level. They’re smart enough to find cover and/or a weapon. You, out of practice and way out shape, head across the room...you know, to the empty space ensuring no safety.

Catching sight of Nat, now armed, you duck down knowing there has to be a gun stashed somewhere. It’s not your first weapon of choice, having never trusted a bullet as much as a blade but something is better than nothing.

And nothing is what you find.

You graze every table you can, certain it hasn’t been long enough for you to forget what a gun feels like, when spot Nat and Bruce flying up the stairs.

Sure Nat has already pleaded with the doctor not to turn green you avert your eyes to Stark, flailing on the back of a bot with what appears to be a fondue fork. You’d kill for a fondue fork right now.

What catches your eye instead is something much less picking. It’s perfect timing too as you spot Dr. Cho crowding behind the piano, face to face with a waist up robot, hand glimmering and all.

In a split second your hand grasps around the candlestick and you toss it through the air. Despite the noise you hear its whistle and while it’s really not the time, you relish the sound that you missed so much.

It hits the neck, chopping off its head just as Steve clambers on top of it, chucking git to Thor to smash, to ensure it’s no chicken working with its head cut off.

A shield wizzes past your head, slicing another member of Ultron’s army seconds later.

Its lonely leader speaks next, chilling the charged air.

Before you know it you’re flinging the other candlestick (it is a set) at Ultron, stabbing his arm. It earns the tines looks of him before a dry chuckle. You don’t take your eyes off of him despite the stare you know you’re getting.

His next words are directed at you. “You just didn’t think it through.” His knowledge of what feels like the entire world makes you believe that while his idenity is still a mystery, yours is not to him.

Your presumption is all but proved when his crumbled form sings the infamous Pinocchio song. Not once was it sung at the party. Everything his at his finger tips. Yourself included.

The blue of his eyes fade but he surely doesn’t leave the room. Tony sighs, clutching himself on the stairs. Thor breathes heavily hwile Nat looks worridely at Bruce, who appears on the edge of vomitting up all the food he didn’t eat a the party. Cho looks terrfiied. Hill and Rhodey on the lower level.

That leaves Steve. Watching you.

In four steps he’s at your side, his hands on your arms as he checks you out. Not like that. You remind, tell, yourself its not like that as you meet his eyes.

“Im’ fine.”

"That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Guess you’re better at reading people then.” Humor has always been your go-to. There’s not anything much heavier than blood and blades. The least you could do is quip something light.

Steve steps forward, his voice dropping just for you to hear. “I was going to say you’re a damn good throw.”

The End

#steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america fanfic #marvel #age of ultron #tony stark #natasha romanoff #thor #bruce banner #x reader

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crossdressingdeath · 3 years

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I know you'll probably disagree with me, but i rlly hate the Cloud recessess ending. It's just....

Those elders killed wwx. The Lans were 100% ready to murder both at Qiongqi path but also at the siege. They see him as the guy who corrupted their precious jade. They all preach righteousness, but the whole madam Lan thing is iffy at best and i do not believe that everyone there fully believes the rules. Hell, i have a special bone to pick with the " do not gossip" rule, seeing as gossip had been the main info route for women in patriarchal societies.

I just don't think that after wwx killed Lans in the siege they'd be all that willing to forgive him and take him in w open arms. The juniors and kids love him, yes, but people who saw the war....

Not to mention the whole " do not speak to WWX " rule. I've seen ppl say it's a joke but it's On The Wall. It's supposed to be followed. Even if it was intended as a joke - which i don't believe - it's very cruel for someone w rejection and trust issues.

I also hate it from a very personal perspective. I see Wwx as ND, and, as an ND myself, all those rules terrify me. From the no running and the proper posture ones, i can pretty well imagine they forbid stimming. The Lan curfew would fuck anyone with insomnia and there's smth deeply ucked up abt the " do not grieve in excess". I get that they're supossed to be a paragon of the best things at all time, and that LJY is very UnLan like, but for someone w anxiety who CAN'T follow those rules, it would be a nightmare.

...Some points:

First, the Lan elders did not kill WWX, nor did they attack him unfairly. They weren’t looking at him as the man who corrupted LWJ, either, or at least that wasn’t their primary concern (I will never forgive CQL for suggesting they were or it was); they were looking at him as a traitor to the sects who was raising an army to destroy them. Remember, that is the information the Lans had. Every source they had except for LWJ (who the people he would have gone to would have known was biased and who presumably everyone knew had recently been in close contact with WWX where he could have been manipulated or enchanted in some way), sources which included multiple sect leaders (one of whom was WWX’s brother) and LXC’s dear friend, swore up and down that WWX was a major threat, and let’s face it, WWX didn’t do much to dissuade people from thinking that! Acting like the Lans were maliciously targeting WWX is doing them something of a disservice, I’d say. They acted based on the knowledge they had available; note how the Lans are the first to offer WWX their help once they’re given reason to believe he may not be a villain! And even aside from that, saying they killed WWX (and not JGS and JGY’s manipulation or JC’s army) feels a bit like scapegoating, honestly. Of the four sects, the Lans are quite possibly the least responsible for WWX’s death. If it would hurt him to live with or around anyone who held any responsibility for his death his only option would be to live as a hermit, which would be far worse for him. And yeah, the Lans aren’t perfectly righteous all the time and some morally dubious things have been done by Lan sect members; they’re human, after all! Some of them will only be as moral as their sect leader demands they be! That doesn’t mean the sect as a whole is bad, especially with LXC, LQR and LWJ in charge. Certainly I’d say they’re still better than the other sects, all things considered. One ambiguous situation that may or may not have involved some members of the previous generation doing some fucked up shit doesn’t mean WWX would for sure be mistreated!

As for gossip... there’s a difference between sharing information and gossiping. There’s no evidence that the Lan women are blocked from... y’know, freely communicating and sharing information between themselves. We have no reason to believe they are reliant on gossip. Also they presumably go out night hunting just like the men? Men and women are kept separate in the Cloud Recesses, but I get the sense that that’s more like... school stuff than anything else. The women aren’t exactly locked up, they can be cultivators! The society is still sexist, but that doesn’t mean they’re kept from going out and doing things. And I need to make this clear: there is a fair chance that the rule against gossip saved LWJ’s life, because it kept word of him defending WWX from the sects from spreading to people who would not be willing to let bygones be bygones. Gossip sucks! It hurts people! A lot of this story (and more to the point the suffering of the characters within the story) happens because of gossip! The Lans banning gossip is pretty clearly supposed to be a good thing, I’d say.

And yeah, maybe after WWX killed a bunch of their sect the Lans wouldn’t accept him with open arms as if nothing ever happened! And that’s fair! I can’t imagine where WWX could go where that wouldn’t be the case, unless he and LWJ chose to abandon the cultivation world forever. But you know what else the Lans won’t do? Try to execute him. Or from what we see in the extras even dwell on the past that much. No, the Lans aren’t going to immediately forgive WWX and bring him into the fold without a moment’s hesitation, but you know what? They accept his marriage to LWJ! They let him supervise the juniors on night hunts! They consider him part of their sect! Honestly, that is all WWX can really ask and far more than he’d get from any other sect. There are consequences for what WWX did, even though he wasn’t the villain or necessarily trying to hurt anyone, and frankly people not being entirely comfortable with his presence is very much reasonable.

The “do not speak to WWX” rule may not be a joke, but it’s also pretty clearly not a serious rule. No one takes it seriously. The juniors (the only people WWX really talks to anyway aside from LXC and LWJ) only pay it the minimum lip service of talking to him off the path. WWX himself sure as hell doesn’t care! He clearly finds it pretty damn funny. And I don’t think a guy who has never liked him once again proving he does not like him (in a way that is clearly temporary given how later LQR invites WWX to the Lan family banquet with... reasonable amounts of grace, thereby implicitly accepting him as LWJ’s husband and therefore his own family by marriage) counts as a rejection or a breach of WWX’s trust? Like, LQR has literally always hated WWX. He isn’t preventing WWX and LWJ from spending time together or shutting WWX out of the Cloud Recesses or even making a concentrated effort to keep people from talking to him; he’s venting his frustrations, but if he really intended to block WWX from taking part in life in the Cloud Recesses he would’ve done a hell of a lot more than just make a rule who no one WWX likes follows anyway. It’s a temper tantrum, that’s all, and clearly that’s what WWX takes it as. I mean, if nothing else you can’t ban people from talking to the sect heir’s spouse indefinitely. That’s just not sustainable.

As for the rules... banning people from running in the Cloud Recesses and demanding proper posture during lessons doesn’t suggest to me that they wouldn’t allow stimming? ‘No running’ at least is a common rule... most places. It’s distracting, and can be dangerous. And the rule about sitting properly doesn’t mean “Don’t move at all ever”; it means... well, “sit properly”. Don’t slouch or sprawl across the floor. I see no reason why that wouldn’t preclude means of stimming that wouldn’t be disruptive (and given this is in a classroom environment “not disruptive” is kind of important). I mean, those rules certainly don’t suggest that they’re any worse than other sects, and given this is the sect that has magic music for calming people’s minds if any sect would give allowances for neurodivergence it would be this one. Also I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a song to put people to sleep, or medication that can help; this is a world with magic, after all, and if there’s a song that can put spirits to rest there are probably songs for human medicine and care. And of course there’s an element of conflicting needs; maybe the rules would screw you over, but frankly firmly enforced rules keeping people from running around or sprawling out of their seats would’ve been a godsend for me in school, given how much trouble I had focusing with people making noise around me. At the end of the day, is it guaranteed that the Lans would make allowances for people with needs that conflict with the Lan rules? No. But I’d argue it’s more likely that they would than any other sect. This is ahistorical fantasy ancient China, too; you can only expect so much in the mental health department. Still, a sect that literally invented magic music for calming the mind actually seems like the best choice for people with anxiety and such. There’s a reason why there are multiple fics that essentially set the Lans up as mental health experts in the setting!

Basically, a lot of your arguments seem to be issues that WWX would have in any sect. Unless he wanted to give up on the support of a sect altogether, they’re all things that he would have to work through or come to terms with. And of course... the most important point is that WWX is happy in the Lan sect. The extras make that clear. He has a home, duties that he enjoys performing, the love of his family and the support of his sect. He’s happy. I just... I do not understand why people keep feeling the need to try to make it angsty when the novel makes it clear that he genuinely enjoys his life in Gusu, and more than that that if he ever decided he didn’t enjoy it he could leave at any time. You have to remember that: if WWX wanted to leave... he would. He and LWJ would just go, and only come back occasionally so that LWJ could visit his home. Hell, LWJ would insist on leaving for WWX’s sake. So like... the Lan sect wouldn’t suit everyone, but WWX is quite content there and doesn’t want to leave. He’s happy and free to come and go as he wishes; there really isn’t anything to be concerned about there.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #anon #asks

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xiyao-feels · 3 years

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new tu and xiyao fan from earlier. i searched ao3 as per your suggestion and there's only 500 or so fics for them. :( however, i do have a legit question - what are the differences between mdzs and tu (i've never read the latter). and if you want expand on nieyao (or xiyao) please feel free! i love reading meta! one of the few reasons i miss old school fandom spaces lol. thank you!! :D

Hmmm, I see about eight hundred if I limit to English? But I take your point! But that was just as a way to start; once you do find an author you like, you can look at their bookmarks, for example. (Also I'm not sure if you're familiar with the AO3, but if not, sorting by kudos when doing a general search is a way to get stuff that at least lots of people thought was good. I'm not saying it's perfect, but when you're starting in a fandom it can be better than the default by-date-updated.)

Also I'll take the opportunity to plug my absolute favourite xiyao author, roquen. I didn't mention them last time because they haven't I believe written a post-canon fixit, and you should know that they're mostly sticking to MDZS instead of CQL canon, although with some sprinkling of CQL elements and characterization. Some particular favourites of mine include their AtLA AU and their Sunshot/on the run fics (both series with a couple of short fics), their what you might call a mid-temple hopeful fix-it (divergence where LWJ strikes to kill and LXC takes the blow), the baby LXC fic ("Lan Xichen reverts to being a fifteen-year-old junior, and immediately gets an epic crush on Lianfang-zun"; disclaimer that I was fairly involved with the creation of this one but it's GREAT) and, of course, above all, their gigantic canon fix-it verse, it's worth it every time. It's SO GOOD and the characterization is fantastic and the prose is excellent and UGH. It's so good!!!!! Disclaimer that the second fic in the series, which is the main work, is still WIP, but roquen updates regularly and there are only a couple of chapters left; if you're still wary of WIPs, I'd at least recommend the first fic, which stands alone and is brilliant in its own right.

As to the differences between MDZS and CQL…ho boy. There are quite a few, both major and minor, and I'm by no means familar with all of them—especially the ones that don't involve 3zun, lol. I tried to google around but unfortunately the ones I found tended to be either short or, if more in-depth, contain inaccuracies about JGY/LXC—I think people tend to be more interested in the Wangxian, and then this stuff goes by the wayside. The wiki can be a good source for differences for specific incidents, and although I think it's not always accurate it /does/ usually cite chapter or episode, which can be pretty helpful.

This, by hualiann, looks like a good overview, though I'd add that JYL, WQ and WN didn't study at Cloud Recesses in the novel and that more generally MDZS has a lot of actual undead.

In general my advice is to take things people say about the novel with a large grain of salt, myself included. And about CQL, too! I have no idea if this is you but when I joined the fandom, if people asserted stuff about CQL I tended to just kind of take it as fact—oh, I thought, I must have misremembered! My memory is pretty terrible, and honestly there was absolutely stuff I did misremember. But also sometimes other people misremember, or fanon gets taken as canon, and then there's stuff like—I mean, I'm certainly not going to blame people for not realizing that "JGY conspired with XY at the Unclean Realm" is a lot more uncertain than you might guess at first, especially if they're more Wangxian focused which most people in the fandom are, but I'm still not going to present it as straight-up fact. (veliseraptor has a recent post examining this here which I would very much recommend).

Honestly I think I'd recommend reading the MDZS NMJ Empathy flashback—chapters 48, 49, and the beginning of 50. That gets you a lot of the JGY, LXC and NMJ backstory, and then you can compare for yourself! I'm also going to recommend Mercy's thread, here, listing common fanons about MDZS (I will add to the list, since it's a bugbear of mine, the idea that LXC recognized NMJ's fierce corpse by his abs).

Okay with all that out of the way, and in no particular order, Sun's extremely idiosyncratic and particularly- aka mostly JGY-focused differences list:

-In MDZS, LXC doesn't become Sect Leader until the burning of Cloud Recesses by the Wen, when his father is injured and then succumbs to his wounds. In CQL, he's Sect Leader from the beginning of the show, his father having apparently died not too long before the show started.

-In MDZS, MY wasn't working for the Nie at all before the beginning of Sunshot; he joined the Nie forces just after Sunshot began. NMJ didn't instantly promote him to be his deputy when he's telling at the Nie men for bad-mouthing him; it takes a few more encounters and/or battles with the Wen (after which MY clears the battlefield and helps the commoners).

-In MDZS, xiyao's first meeting happens when LXC is on the run with the Lan books after the burning of Cloud Recesses. We don't see it happen on the page, and we don't know any details of that time beyond, like, MY helped LXC.

-NMJ willingly sends MY away from the Nie, with a letter of recommendation for JGS, after, uh, an extended overhearing of a conversation between MY and LXC wherein MY's desire to be recognized by his father and gain a proper place in the Jin, the opportunity offered for that by JGS recruiting talent at Langya, and the possible difficulty of obtaining permission from NMJ are all established.

-NMJ sees MY stabbing a /Jin/ captain, at Langya, after he goes looking for MY. Rather than taking a blow for NMJ, MY stabs himself, faking suicide, then immobilizes NMJ (who's trying to save his life) and flees. This is because NMJ wants MY to go turn himself in for killing the captain; MY thinks they'll kill him, while NMJ says that if the captain has actually been mistreating MY as MY said, MY won't be killed. Personally I think that all the evidence suggests that MY is right, and NMJ is blind to the effects of his position to the extent it's a not insignificant moral failure.

-Okay, so, you know how in CQL MY stabs WRH while he's distracted with WWX, outside on the steps with the Sunshot alliance right outside? In /MDZS/, they're in the Sun Palace, WWX isn't anywhere near the place, he does it to save NMJ's life, and then he starts lugging NMJ's unconscious body out of the palace. And then NMJ comes to consciousness amd demands his sabre and tries to kill him. He likely only survives because of NMJ's wounds, and if LXC hadn't shown up (responding to a message MY sent for aid for NMJ) NMJ might easily have killed him. If you want a more in-depth analysis, I take a close look here in my response to someone's, er, imaginative interpretation of NMJ and JGY's relationship in MDZS.

-In CQL, NMJ's qi deviation happens at the stairs incident. In MDZS, it happens later, when he overhears JGY being upset to LXC about how NMJ treated him at the stairs, and, overcome with rage that JGY would dare (arguably in combination with being polite and pleasant to NMJ's face, although the last time he was confrontational to NMJ's face NMJ kicked him down the stairs and tried to kill him so), he kicks open the door and tries to kill him. He also kills several people as he's qi deviating (seeing them as JGY—while in CQL he also sees several JGYs they seem to be just illusions), and injures NHS.

-In MDZS, NMJ sets fire to all of NHS' nice things. I don't think we're told either way in CQL, although it's worth noting that in MDZS this happens after the stairs (and before JGY starts playing for him again). (I think they do something in FJ?? But I don't take FJ as canon for CQL; see confusion-and-more's post here).

-In CQL, JGY suggests to NMJ that he's always played the corrupted Clarity for him (though granted this is in Empathy, so it's hard to say for sure if this is what he actually said, but in any case it's the only version we're given). In MDZS, it's strongly indicated that JGY only started playing Turmoil for NMJ /after/ the stairs—there's a variety of evidence, but I think the most objective is that WWX, who in MDZS Empathy can literally feel NMJ's anger, actually observes it working beforehand:

Since [JGY started playing for NMJ], Jin GuangYao would travel from Lanling to Qinghe every few days, playing Sound of Lucidity to help quell Nie MingJue rage. He tried his hardest, without speaking even a single word of complaint. Sound of Lucidity was indeed effective. Wei WuXian could clearly feel that the hostile energy within Nie MingJue was being suppressed.

(Exiled Rebels translation, ch. 49)

And then the next scene is the stairs incident, so.

-In general, the degree to which JGY's position is completely awful is played down in CQL. confusion-and-more talks about it a bit here; I'd also note that some of JGY's dialogue defending himself is removed ( “Some trivial achievements?” He spoke in a shaking voice, “…What do you mean, some trivial achievements? ChiFeng-Zun, do you know how much work I put into such trivial achievements? How much I suffered? Glory? Without the handful of glory I have nothing!”, for example), we don't hear about his mother at the guqin scene, the temple flashback where his mother is dragged naked outside by a client and he's kicked down the brothel stairs is eliminated, etc etc.

-There is absolutely no second flutist in MDZS; also JGY tells us in the temple that QS was already pregnant before he found out about the incest. I think even in CQL it's questionable whether he actually intended to kill Zixuan (see this whole conversation), and significant unveiling or no CQL never actually says QS wasn't pregnant before their marriage so I tend to go with that too, but certainly it's easy to walk away with the impression that he definitely did both deliberately, especially if you aren't familiar with the novel.

-(In general, I think CQL JGY is a lot more sympathetic than most people think once you look closely, but he's also very much set up to look upon a more casual watching as Villain, so.)

-In CQL it's All A-Yao All The Time but in MDZS we see LXC calling him san-di after the sworn brotherhood, and then it's back to A-Yao in the present day (see my last addition on this chain here).

-In MDZS, JGY doesn't shove JL out of the way of the incoming attack.

-The LXC lifting JGY out of his bow thing is from CQL

-The watchtowers! Oh /man/ the watchtowers. God the watchtowers are so much. Uh, confusion-and-more has a post about how much they're mentioned in MDZS vs CQL here, and see my last addition to this thread for an argument that the watchtowers were indeed a force for good. God. Twelve hundred watchtowers. He must have saved so many lives...

-confusion-and-more's watchtower post also reminds me that CQL has the Guanyin temple giving out medicine, while MDZS does not

-The episode 23 scene where Sect Leaders Jin, Nie, and Lan agree to spare some of the Wen doesn't exist in MDZS (though I'll take the opportunity to observe that I disagree with popular interpretations of that scene, see point three here).

-In MDZS NMJ's fierce corpse is literally trying to kill JGY, there's no saber spirit. And like, it's been trying to kill JGY for a long damn time, that's why JGY dismembered him.

-The XY plotline—in MDZS, JGY recommends a young XY (who at thay point has a reputation but is not known to have committed any massacres) as a Jin cultivator, as part of an effort by JGS to recreate the Yin Tiger Seal. JGS has multiple people trying, but most of them aren't getting anywhere and XY is getting furthest. It's during this time that XY kills the Chang clan, and is discovered as guilty by XXC, who brings up the evidence at a conference happening in Lanling; the Jin are stalling, MMJ gets angry and shows up, he almost kills XY on the spot and gives JGS a lecture such that he's forced to relent and sentence XY to death (and incidentally scares JGY, imho quite seriously, while he's at it). Then JGS turns it into life imprisonment once NMJ has left, and then NMJ is extremely angry and attacks JGY at the stairs. (Ch. 30 and 118)

-I mentioned before but I'll add it here too: in CQL JGY asks LXC to stay and die with him, and LXC agrees.

-The CQL ending in general is...hmmm. Despite having most of the elements which complicate MDZS' ending (JL is in a terrible position!), it kind of presents as...happy ending all is fixed now? In MDZS I think it's presented as—more complicated, even though Wangxian do very much get their happy ending.

-Also LWJ is a lot less. uh. Okay, so in CQL he's more Mr Morality, and in MDZS it's much more Wei Ying Right Or Wrong. Also, he doesn't become Chief Cultivator in MDZS! I think that's my least favourite change, because it's like...LWJ hates politics, hates compromise, and never attends the cultivation conferences. At least one of 'this is going to be a major diisaster' and 'LWJ is going to have to go through some significant shifts in his worldview and approach' are going to have to happen, but that's not the vibe CQL gives off at all, and I think it really works against some of the major themes of the text :/

-OH RIGHT I knew I was forgetting something—in MDZS MXY's revenge is focused solely on the Mo; JGY is not part of the curse.

Okay I don't want to go too much on about xiyao or nieyao, because this is already quite long and I don't want you to be waiting forever, but broadly although I certainly think NMJ cares about JGY a great deal it seems to be about his competence and potential; he doesn't really seem to, like, actually like who he is as a person. JGY, meanwhile, is at first very grateful to and then increasingly exasperated by and very much fucking terrified of NMJ, but...well, he doesn't seem to be into him or interested in spending time with him for the sake of it or etc etc.

On the other hand—xiyao. Man, xiyao!!!! They just—they get each other so fast, they're /partners/, they work together so well, they like and they respect each other, they're both like—LXC and MS are on their own tier for JGY, LWJ and JGY are on their own tier for LXC, they're for each other in a way neither is for anyone else, they care a lot about the same things—it's not perfect overlap, obviously, but it's more overlap I think than either has with anyone else, they—invest, they're builders, JGY was planning the watchtowers project from way back and although I have no doubt he was driving it LXC was with him and!!!! ugh!!!!! xiyao are REALLY GREAT, okay.

#the best of men #more than one tag could contain #a gentle warmth filling the deepest of needs #anger burned in his heart #long meta #sort of #we can't change places #j #mostly jgy-focused discussion of differences between mdzs and cql under the cut

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teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

Text

Season 2, Episode 2: Shape Shifted

check out the series masterlist!

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader

Warnings: mentions of abuse

Notes: our fav curly haired boy finally makes an appearance!! even tho he’s on the struggle bus rn I’m so excited to finally have him in the series

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I winced as my back slammed against the concrete floor of the jail cell, a twinge of pain rolling up my spine. A snarling face appeared above me only a moment later. He caged me in with a clawed hand on either side of my head, growling only inches away.

“Isaac!” I barked, trying to snap him out of it.

There was just enough space between us for me to brace my hands against his chest. I shoved him away with all the strength I could muster and, surprisingly, he stumbled up onto all fours a few feet away.

Isaac growled again from his crouched position, pupils blown wide, making his eyes look completely black. He snarled, revealing his sharpened teeth, and glowered at me dangerously. In the blink of an eye, he hauled me up to my feet and pinned me against one of the brick walls.

He leaned close, roaring loudly, and my eyes pinched shut as a fear-induced tremor wracked my body. I pressed my back firmly into the wall behind me, my heart sputtering in my chest. I peeled my eyes open when the room went silent and stared ahead with wide eyes, my breath reduced to trembling gasps.

I should probably take a moment to explain how I got myself in this ridiculous situation.

Stupidity, mostly. My intentions had been mothing but good and still, everything somehow managed to fall apart. But that seems to be a trend in my life, doesn’t it?

Earlier that day...

“You really don’t remember anything?” Allison pressed, despite being told the same answer several times on our way to school.

“They called it a fugue state.” Lydia quipped, swaying her hips as she held her jacket tightly beneath her crossed arms. “Which is basically a fancy way of saying ‘we have no idea why you can’t remember running through the woods naked for a week’.”

She rolled her eyes with a huff, as if the whole thing was nothing but a minor inconvenience. I watched her closely as she bounced up the stairs in her heels. She’d been acting way too...normal since we found her. She kept insisting that she’s fine and doesn’t remember a single thing but somehow, that seems so much worse.

“But, personally, I don’t care. I lost nine pounds.” She shrugged with a satisfied smile, and Allison chuckled.

I couldn’t help but frown. There was no way she didn’t have any lasting effects from being lost in the woods for a week, or that Peter’s bite had done absolutely nothing to her. There was just no way.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I peered at her with concern, and she just rolled her eyes.

“Please, it’s not like my aunt’s a serial killer.” She turned on her heel, flicking her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, before either of us could respond.

Allison’s lips parted as she stared at her retreating figure, her brows lifting in surprise. I rubbed a hand over my lips to hide the smirk that was threatening to break through. While completely and utterly inappropriate, I couldn’t deny that the comment was pretty funny.

“Yeah, she’s fine.” I followed after her quickly through the front doors of the school.

My steps faltered as I saw that every single person in the hallway had stopped to stare at Lydia. She stood froze in place, her eyes wide as they flickered around the space. Quiet footsteps sounded behind us, the only noise in the otherwise silent hall.

“Maybe it’s the nine pounds.” Allison joined us at Lydia’s other side and leaned down to whisper the jab into her ear.

She squared her shoulders and flattened her features into a practiced boyeed expression before flicking a stray piece of hair away from her face and strutting away. I narrowed my eyes at her back, the persistent feeling that something was going on with her beneath the surface nagging at me. Allison and I shared a quick glance before following her toward our first class of the day.

————————

I let out an annoyed sigh, for once trying to actually focus on the assignment in front of me. We were doing partner work today and since there were an uneven number of students, Mr. Harris put me, Stiles, and Scott together. We were all surprised by that choice, but I honestly think he wanted us to get distracted so he’d have an excuse to give us detention again.

“Why would Derek choose Isaac?” Scott whispered harshly, continuing the conversation the boys had been having around me for the last several minutes.

“Peter told me that if the bite doesn’t turn you, it could kill you.” Stiles’ eyes briefly flickered toward me, and I avoided his questioning gaze. I was already painfully aware that we were no closer to figuring out what’s wrong with me. I didn’t need any reminders. “Maybe teenagers have a better chance of surviving.”

“Does being a teenager mean your dad can’t hold him?” Scott’s voice became urgent as he leaned forward in his chair.

They’d both been freaking out all day. Apparently, one of their teammates was pulled during their morning practice by the police for questioning. His father was killed mysteriously a few nights ago, and he was the prime suspect. Now, that wouldn’t usually be anything more than news-worthy gossip, but it conveniently happened moments after Scott realized he’s a werewolf.

He had to have been turned recently, because Scott only sensed that there was another werewolf on the team this morning. I’d never really noticed the guy before, but he was definitely on my radar now.

Unfortunately, it was most likely Derek who turned him, unless there’s another alpha running around Beacon Hills that we don’t know about. Honestly, I’m not sure which scenario would be worse.

It also just so happens to be a full moon tonight, because heaven forbid a day go by in this town without a supernatural disaster. Scott and Stiles were stressing the fuck out about what a freshly turned werewolf will be capable of, especially while stuck in a jail cell.

“Well, not unless they have solid evidence. Or a witness—wait...” Stiles’ eyes widened as a thought struck him and he abruptly turned around to face the table behind us. “Danny. Where’s Jackson?”

Scott and I peered back toward him as he glanced up from his paper, the pencil in his hand coming to a stop as his eyes flickered over the three of us slowly. They were swirling with a strange emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. It was almost as if he’d been listening in on our conversation.

“The principal’s office talking to your dad.” He answered slowly, seemingly surprised that we weren’t up to date on the latest developments.

“What? Why?” Stiles whispered harshly, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Maybe because he lives across the street from Isaac?” Danny shrugged, as if it were obvious.

My shoulders stiffened at his words. We all turned back toward the front of the room quickly when it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate, not wanting to be caught talking. I glanced between Scott and Stiles, waiting for the inevitable. I could practically see the gears turning behind their eyes. They were coming up with something that I undoubtedly wanted no part of but would get roped into anyway.

“Witness.” Scott sighed, looking defeated.

Stiles’ brows pinched as a look of determination flickered over his face. “We have to get to the principal’s office.”

“How?” Scott leaned toward him expectantly.

Stiles’ wide eyes flickered around our table before landing on the assignment we were supposed to be doing. He practically lunged toward me so he could slide the paper out from under my hand.

He glanced to the head of the room where Mr. Harris was standing, his back to us as he wrote equations on the chalkboard, before crumpling it into a ball. I let out a huff, instantly realizing that he was about to do something incredibly stupid, and snatched it back.

“Wait a minute.” I glanced between the boys with narrowed eyes. “We literally just closed the door on the whole almost being murdered by two psychopaths thing. Can’t we sit this one out?”

“Not when we can help him.” Scott whispered earnestly, his eyes rounding as he silently pleaded with me to understand.

I groaned at his damn overactive conscience and sunk down into my seat, already giving in. I didn’t want to get involved in another problem already, but it was clearly important to him. Stiles held out his hand expectantly and I pursed my lips, hesitating.

He winked and blew me a kiss, the edge of his lips twitching into a smirk. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. He was having way too much fun with this already. Finally, I dropped the paper ball into his upturned hand.

He wasted no time in chucking it toward the front of the room. It smacked right into Mr. Harris’s head and bounced to the floor. The room erupted into restrained giggles as he quickly whipped around to face the class.

“Who in the hell did that?” He snapped, his brows furrowing in anger.

Scott and Stiles both lifted a finger to point at each other, and I sank further down, making myself small. I had yet to get into any trouble at school, and I wanted to keep it that way, despite whatever potential supernatural crisis we were dealing with.

“To the office. Now.” The boys instantly popped to their feet at Mr. Harris’s curt demand, failing miserably at hiding their satisfaction that the plan went so smoothly. “You too, Ms. Y/L/N.”

I jolted upright in my chair and gaped at him, my eyes widening in shock. “But Mr. Harris, I didn’t even do—”

“Unless you’d like to finish that thought in detention, I suggest you get moving.” His eyes narrowed into a hard glare.

My jaw clenched at his patronizing tone, but I scooped up my things and followed the guys out into the hall anyway. I shouldn’t have been this annoyed, but I was already a full two weeks behind after missing so many days of school while recovering from Peter’s bite. For once, I actually wanted to focus on school and bring my grades up.

Less than a minute later, we found ourselves sitting outside the office, one of Scott’s ears pressed tightly against the window. Jackson was visible through the glass, his arms crossed lazily over his chest as he sat comfortably in one of the plush chairs. His eyes flickered slowly over Sheriff Stilinski, seemingly bored by their conversation.

Scott was reciting their every word as he listened in. It wasn’t like Jackson to care for other people, so exactly no one was surprised to find out that he knew about the apparent abuse Isaac was subjected to at the hands of his father for years without telling a soul.

The office door suddenly sprang open without warning, and I jumped in surprise. Stiles spazzed beside me, arms flailing as he grabbed the closet thing he could find to hide behind. Despite getting in trouble intentionally, he didn’t want his dad to see him. He’d been cracking down lately about his record of almost weekly detentions which were always, unsurprisingly, with Mr. Harris.

He slid down in his seat and lifted the magazine he found to cover his face. A moment later, Sheriff Stilinski walked out of the office with another officer in tow. His eyes trailed over Stiles slowly, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Hi, Scott. Y/N.” He drawled slowly, his attention still firmly planted on Stiles.

We both waved awkwardly and he just shook his head with a sigh, accepting that his son was a lost cause before brushing past us. We barely had a moment to breathe before a deep, gravely voice fluttered from the open door.

“Kids.” My eyes widened as they swept up to the older man we’d seen at Kate’s funeral. Allison’s grandpa. Time seemed to slow as we all stared at him, equal parts surprised and confused. Just yesterday, we had a different principal. So what was he doing here? “Come on in.”

Hesitantly, we all stood and followed him into what was apparently now his office. We sat down in the chairs opposite his desk and waited anxiously for him to begin our lecture. He tooka few moments to ruffle some papers around on his desk before opening a small manila folder.

“Scott McCall.” He said slowly, his dark eyes flickering over the pages inside. “Academically not the most accomplished, but I see you have become quite the star athlete.”

His gaze swept up to meet Scott’s, who’s lips twitched up into a half-grimace half-smile sort of thing. He was stiff as a board beside me, clearly uncomfortable being this close to someone from Allison’s family.

“Mr. Stilinski.” He continued, attention moving to another folder. “Oh, perfect grades...but little to no extracurriculars. Maybe you should try lacrosse.”

Stiles perked up in his chair, eager to talk about his growing role on the team. “Oh, actually, I’m already—”

“Hold on,” Mr. Argent held up a finger, and Stiles visibly deflated before falling back into a slouch. He pointed to Scott, his eyes narrowing slightly. “McCall, you’re the Scott that was dating my granddaughter.”

Scott’s eyes widened, instantly pancking at his words. The two of them were still sneaking around, since her dad’s threat to literally kill him if he caught them together was very much active. “We were dating, but not anymore. We’re not seeing any of each other or...doing anything...with each other.”

I let out an irritated huff at his rambling. For as often as these guys lie, they should be much better at it by now. Mr. Argent chuckled, but it lacked any humor. It was honestly kind of unnerving, like when a super villain laughs just before killing someone in cold blood.

“Relax, Scott. You look like you’re about to crack a cyanide pill with your teeth.” The three of us just stared at him, unsure of how to respond to that weirdly specific and alarming metaphor.

“Now listen, guys.” He sent us a tight lipped smile, only slightly breaking the quickly mounting tension. “Yes, I am the principal, but I really don’t want you to think of me as the enemy.”

Stiles scoffed harshly from beside me, squirming back and forth in his seat. “Is that so?”

I jammed my elbow into his side at that ridiculously obvious reference to the supernatural. He twitched dramatically and rubbed at his ribs, furrowing his brows at me as if I were the one messing everything up. There was no telling what he already knew. He might not even know that Scott is a werewolf yet, and we didn’t need to be giving him any clues.

“However, this being my first day, I do need to support my teachers. So, unfortunately, someone is going to have to take the fall and stay behind for detention.” He continued, eyes immediately sweeping toward Stiles.

He was momentarily unaware of all the attention on him as he played with a frayed string on his red flannel. As much as it may suck, it just made sense for it to be him. Scott needed to figure out what to do about Isaac, and there was no way I was sitting in detention for a stupid plan that I had no part in.

After a few moments of tense silence his eyes flicked upward. They widened knowingly and he sighed before sagging back in his chair, ready to begrudgingly take one for the team.

With that decision made, Scott and I were dismissed. He instantly bolted upright and practically ran to the office door. I followed as quickly as possible, squeezing Stiles’ hand reassuringly before I went. Scott frantically tumbled down the small flight of stairs just outside the office before rounding the corner and throwing the side doors open.

“Scott!” I called, urging him to slow down. He wasn’t even using werewolf speed, he was just freaking the fuck out and going way too fast. “Scott, what are you doing?”

I ran outside after him, feeling a chill run up my spine as a gust of cold wind blew past us. He suddenly staggered to a halt and I swerved to avoid ramming into him. My eyes widened as I finally saw what made him stop so abruptly.

There was a police car pulling away from the curb, and Isaac was sitting in the back.

“So what’s the plan?” I breathed, feeling my stomach churn with anxiety.

I didn’t necessarily care what happened to the guy, especially if he did kill his father, but this couldn’t mean anything good for us. Everything just got a hell of a lot more complicated. It was one thing if they were just questioning him, but if they were arresting him our job would be much harder than we anticipated.

Scott let out a huff of annoyance and turned to face me. “Go back inside. I’ll figure this out.”

“Absolutely not.” I crossed my arms, offended at the mere suggestion that I walk away.

There was no way I’d be leaving his side anytime soon. They’d sufficiently dragged me into this problem with them, and now I was here to stay. Plus, I was honestly way too nosy to turn back now. There was only one more period left before school let out anyway, and I wouldn’t be able to focus with all of this going on.

Just then, a black sports car peeled up to the curb with a high pitched screech. I jumped back in surprise, the sight of the tinted windows making me nervous, but almost immediately relaxed when the passenger window rolled down to reveal Derek.

“Get in.” He ordered gruffly, not wasting any time with pleasantries.

“Are you serious? You did that. This is your fault.” Scott raised his voice in frustration and pointed toward the retreating police car.

“I know that.” Derek barked through clenched teeth, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. Well, I guess it’s confirmed that he was the one who bit Isaac. “Now, get in the car, and help me.”

Scott rolled his eyes and stood firmly in place. “I’m gonna call a lawyer. Because a lawyer might actually have a chance at getting him out before the moon comes up.”

“Not when they do a real search of the house.” Derek shook his head solemnly, although it was hard to tell exactly what he was feeling behind his dark sunglasses.

“What do you mean?” I spoke up for the first time, utterly confused by his characteristic vagueness. It honestly wouldn’t be the least bit surprising if he’d been in Isaac’s house since the murder, but if there was something damning in there, he just needed to come out with it.

“Whatever Jackson said to the cops...” He let out a tense breath and pursed his lips. “What’s in the house is worse. A lot worse.”

He leaned over and popped the passenger door open, peering at us expectantly over his black frames. Scott and I shared a long glance, unsure if we wanted to get tangled up with him again already. Despite the fact that he wasn’t an immediate threat to us, he was an alpha now. That made him dangerous. And if he’s going around turning people, there’s no telling what his agenda is.

With a sigh, Scott stepped forward and got in the car. I chewed on my bottom lip nervously, but followed after a few seconds. It felt like we were opening the door to something much worse than a newly turned teenager gone rouge. I couldn’t place it, but that nagging feeling was back. There had to be something I was missing.

————————

“If Isaac didn’t kill his dad, who did?” Scott asked anxiously, waving a flashlight around the dimly lit space.

Derek was adamant that we wait until the “right moment” to enter Isaac’s house. After a couple hours of sitting around and ducking down to avoid any living thing that crossed his car, I was convinced that he was stalling. The moon would be up soon. We were running out of time.

The goal was to break Isaac out of the station before he has a chance to shift. There’s no telling how many people he could kill while stuck in there and although they wouldn’t be innocent deaths, the last thing Beacon Hills needed was more bodies.

“I don’t know yet.” Derek huffed, seemingly annoyed.

“Then how do you know he’s telling the truth?” I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, feeling the chilly evening air sinking into my skin. This house had absolutely no insulation and I was freezing already.

“Because I trust my senses. And it’s a combination of them. Not just your sense of smell.” He peered around me to glare pointedly at Scott.

I cringed at his disapproving tone as we continued through the house. I swear, sometimes he acts more like a disgruntled father or older brother than a random werewolf we con into helping us sometimes. It was equal parts endearing and off-putting.

“You...saw the thing at lacrosse this morning.” Scott grimaced, his shoulders stiffening as he realized he’d been caught.

“Yeah.” Derek quipped, letting his eyes scan over the disaster of a house in front of us.

There was nothing...wrong with it, per se. It just wasn’t well maintained. There was a mountain of dishes in the sink, clutter everywhere, and dust covering almost every surface. It was just kind of gross, overall. I was surprised that anyone would want to live like this, but after learning about what a dickwad Isaac’s dad was, I didn’t think he had much of a choice.

“Did it look that bad?”

As we made our way around the house slowly, I was beginning to question whether there was even anything here at all. It wasn’t that I thought Derek would intentionally lead us to a dead end, but I didn’t really trust him, either.

“Yeah.” He clapped a hand over Scott’s shoulder and pressed his lips into a firm line before coming to a stop in front of a door. “You wanna learn? Let’s start now.”

He popped the door open to reveal a narrow staircase that led down to a basement. Only a few feet of floorspace was visible through the darkness, but I could already tell it was a cluttered mess.

“What’s down there?” I asked tentatively, squinting my eyes in an effort to see more of the room.

Scott started walking down the stairs slowly, looking from side to side as he went. I chewed on my bottom lip as I watched him disappear into the darkness. Part of me wanted to follow him, but there was also a terrible feeling of dread churning in the pit of my stomach. There was something evil down there, I could just sense it.

“Motive.” Derek nudged my back gently and I sighed before following behind Scott.

“And what am I looking for?” He called over his shoulder, sweeping his flashlight over the space quickly.

“Follow your senses.”

There were piles of junk everywhere. That was the only word one could use to describe the stuff lining the walls. There were tools, random knickknacks, and a bunch of things that honestly looked like forgotten trash. There were big heaps every few feet, making it hard to walk through the room.

“What happened down here?” I breathed, my chest tightening with each step I took. I hugged my sides tighter, needing something to ground myself. It felt like my skin was buzzing, as if I could actually feel the raw emotions that had been left in this place. The air had this thickness that I couldn’t place.

“The kind of thing that leaves an impression.” Derek murmured ominously, and I turned to send him a glare.

He was being the opposite of helpful, as usual. If he knew what happened, he just needed to tell us so we could get the hell out of here. There wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to be here any longer than necessary.

Scott moved a shower curtain that was somehow hanging from the ceiling as he continued on his path around the basement. He fidgeted with a few things as he passed them by, walking around a disgusting, stained couch before kneeling down in front of a shattered TV that looked like it was from the eighties. He ran his fingers along the concrete floor beside it, his brows furrowing in concentration.

His head suddenly jerked upward, his gaze settling on a large freezer against the wall a few feet away. He slowly rose to his full height and stepped toward it. He stopped directly in front of it, his breathing labored. I rushed to his side at the sight of his heightened anxiety, more curious about the odd reaction than anything.

My lips pulled into a frown as he toyed with a lock that hung from a latch on the freezer. That definitely wasn’t normal. Scott’s eyes flickered to me briefly, but it was long enough for me to see the concern bubbling beneath the surface. We both jumped at Derek’s sudden presence beside us a moment later.

“Open it.” He encouraged, his eyes firmly planted on the freezer.

Scott lifted the lid at a painstakingly slow pace, the rusted hinges squealing in protest. He shined the flashlight inside, and my breath instantly caught at the sight of the interior. There were claw marks along almost every inch of the inside. Bloody claw marks.

The worst part was that they clearly weren’t from a werewolf. The scratches were dull, barely perforating the smooth metal. They were human. My heart dropped into my stomach at the thought of Isaac—or anyone, for that matter—being locked in something like this.

“This is why he said yes to you.” Scott’s voice was barely above a whisper as he peered down into the freezer. His eyes were dark, swirling with a stormy slew of emotions.

“Everybody wants power.” Derek quipped, crossing his arms with a shrug as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

I scoffed in disbelief as Scott slammed the lid back down. He couldn’t honestly think that turning a tortured teenage boy was a good idea. He could’ve killed him, for starters, but instead may have given a vengeful human all the power he could ever ask for. Either way, he was screwed. And now, so were we.

“If we help you, then you have to stop. You can’t just go around turning people into werewolves.” Scott’s voice was hard as his eyes narrowed angrily.

“I can if they’re willing.” Derek lifted his eyebrows casually, completely oblivious to the seriousness of this situation.

There was no way of telling what anyone would do once transformed into a powerful beast. It was downright irresponsible for him to run around making his own werewolves, but as we learned, alphas are stronger with a pack. And if there was one thing I knew about the Hale’s, it’s that they’re power hungry.

“Did you tell Isaac about the Argents? About being hunted?” Scott’s voice rose incredulously, and Derek just shrugged again.

“Yes, and he still asked.”

“Then he’s an idiot.” I snapped, over this whole situation. It seemed that our problems always started with Derek. He was a walking magnet for supernatural horrors and I was more than ready to be done with him. It’d barely been a couple weeks since our issues with Peter.

I jumped as my phone suddenly started ringing in my back pocket. I hastily pulled it out, my eyes widening as I saw that I had several missed texts from Allison and Stiles.

“Hell—”

“We need to do something right now.” Allison’s urgent voice fluttered into my ear as she interrupted me before I could even get a word out. I put the call on speaker and held my phone out so the guys could hear. “My dad and grandpa were asking me all these questions about how Lydia was bitten by Peter and then they sent this guy out.”

“Wait. What guy?” Scott asked frantically, his eyes widening with anxiety.

“He was dressed as a sheriff’s deputy.”

I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. Did that mean the Argents had a man on the inside? Or did they somehow fake a uniform? I glanced up toward the Scott and Derek, who didn’t look any more pleased than I felt.

“They’re sending him to the station for Isaac.” Scott confirmed the fear nagging at the back of my mind.

“He was also carrying this box with him with something on it. Like a carving or something.” She rushed the words out quietly, probably hiding from her family somewhere in her house.

“What was it?” I pressed when she didn’t continue.

“Hold on, hold on. It’s in one of these books. I’m gonna send you a picture.”

My phone vibrated in my hand a moment later and I instantly clicked on the notification. It confirmed what all of us were surely thinking. “Wolfsbane.”

She paused for a moment, most likely wondering what the hell I was talking about. There was still a lot she didn’t know about the supernatural. “Okay, what does that mean?”

“Just come meet me at Isaac’s house. Hurry.” Scott ordered, taking my phone from my hands before ending the call abruptly.

I raised my eyebrows in question, and he sighed. “I have a plan.”

It was only when he dropped the phone back into my hand that I noticed his nails had extended into pointed claws. My eyes widened with the realization that the moon was coming up. That meant Scott and Isaac both would be losing control any minute.

We were officially out of time.

————————

My legs bounced anxiously as I sat on the front steps of the house. They were falling apart, the conceete all cracked and dirty. I let out a slow breath into my hands as I tried keeping them warm. My eyes flickered up toward the sky, my heart sinking further into my stomach with each inch the moon rose.

I let my eyes sweep back to the front door, wondering what was going on inside. The loud squeal of tires against the asphalt had me jerking upright in surprise. I turned back toward the road and let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Stiles’ Jeep lurching to a stop at the end of Isaac’s driveway.

I popped to my feet and jogged toward the car as he threw the passenger door open. His wide eyes flickered over my frame from head to toe quickly, a gesture he’d started after I was released from the hospital. It honestly seemed like a habit at this point, an uncontrollable urge he had to check for some kind of psychotic break every time he saw me.

“Where’s Scott?” He breathed, still leaning across the bench seat.

“Doing something really stupid.” I mumbled, moving out of the way as Derek appeared at my side.

He and Stiles exchanged a tense glance as he wordlessly got into the back of the Jeep. I slid into the passenger seat and let the door fall closed behind me. We were leaving Scott and Allison—who’d arrived a few minutes ago—in the basement to figure out his wolf hormones or whatever. If he was going to be helpful tonight he needed to stay human, and she could assist with that better than anyone.

Stiles eyed me suspiciously, but eventually jerked the car into drive and sped off. The ride to the sheriff’s station was short, but painfully awkward. Derek and Stiles were taking turns glaring at each other in the rearview mirror and I wanted nothing more than to remove myself from the situation and let them work through whatever the hell was wrong with them. But I was stuck, so I sat in silence until we pulled up at the back entrance of the station.

“Okay.” Stiles sighed and threw an arm over the back of the seat so he could glance between both of us. “The keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father’s office. The problem is getting past the front desk.”

Derek huffed from the back, as if personally offended by that statement. “I’ll just distract her.”

He leaned forward to push me out of the way so he could get out, but Stiles lunged across the seat to grip his leather jacket tightly. “Whoa, whoa! Hey. You’re not going in there.”

Derek’s eyes narrowed before flickering between Stiles’ face and the hand balling up the fabric of his jacket.

“I’m taking my hand off.” His voice rose anxiously as he lifted both arms in surrender.

“I was exonerated.” Derek snapped, clearly annoyed at being labeled a criminal for the lie that Stiles and Scott had come up with a few weeks ago. In their defense, Peter did have us trapped in the school with a bunch of people who knew nothing about the supernatural. Framing him for the murders Peter had committed was the best option at the time.

“You’re still a person of interest.” I tried to reason with him, but it didn’t look like we were making any breakthroughs as he rolled his eyes in aggravation.

“An innocent person.”

“You? Yeah, right.” Stiles scoffed with a chuckle, but instantly sobered up at the glare Derek cast his way.

“Alright, whatever. It’s fine. Let’s just go.” I rushed out, starting to get impatient.

I just wanted this night to be over already. We had Scott probably shifting at Isaac’s, Isaac definitely losing control inside the jail, and Derek causing way more problems than he’s worth. It was a lot for one day.

Derek went inside first, shamelessly flirting with the woman at the front desk. Stiles and I waited a few minutes to make sure that she was sufficiently distracted before slinking inside and quietly ducking past the lobby. Stiles ran toward his dad’s office, and I was right on his heels. Once inside, he found the small lockbox mounted onto one of the walls and punched in the code.

He lifted the front panel off and instantly froze. “Oh, no...”

He bolted out of the office so fast that I had to stand there for a moment, processing what the hell just happened. After coming to my senses and realizing that someone had taken the keys, I ran after him, easily catching up within seconds. My body slammed into his back harshly only a moment later as we rounded a corner and nearly barreled into a police officer.

“Whoa.” Stiles breathed, staggering back a step. His eyes widened in alarm, knowing that we weren’t supposed to be here right now. “Uh. We’re just looking—um...”

His awkward attempt at lying trailed off as his eyes flickered down to the man’s leg. I did the same, my breath catching at the sight of an arrow sticking out of his leg. Allison must’ve gotten Scott under control, since before we left she promised to help if she was able. My panic only grew as I noticed the syringe grasped tightly in one of his hands.

“Oh, shit...” Stiles gripped my arm and started running down the narrow hallway.

We only made it a few steps before he was violently jerked backward. My eyes widened as I felt his hand leave me and I whipped around to see what happened. A startled gasp tore past my lips as I watched the man wrap an arm around Stiles’ throat and haul him against his chest.

“Hey! Let him go!”

He started dragging Stiles down the hall, and I instantly ran after them. I had no idea what I could possibly do to help, but I wasn’t stopping for anything. All I knew was that I couldn’t let him get hurt. His arms flailed wildly and he kicked his legs, trying anything to break free. My eyes swept the area for anything that I could use as a weapon.

“Y/N...go!” Stiles gasped through his struggle.

With a grunt, the man brought a hand up to cover Stiles’ mouth as he used his free hand to land a few punches at his ribs. His eyes were wide as they silently urged me to run away. But I couldn’t. There was nothing that would make me leave him right now.

He somehow managed to pull the fire alarm as the man dragged him through the doorway to the cells. I cringed at the loud ringing, but quickly forgot the inconvenience as the man dropped Stiles into a heap on the concrete floor.

I instantly rushed to his side, placing a gentle hand on his back as he rubbed at his chest and gasped for air. There was barely enough time for relief to begin bubbling in my chest before a low growl echoed through the room. We both stilled at the sound.

Eerie silence blanketed the room for only a split second before Isaac emerged from a dark corner, teeth barred. He lunged at whoever the Argent’s had sent, wrapping a clawed hand around his throat before slamming him down onto a metal interrogation table. I winced at the harsh sound, but could do nothing but watch as he threw the man across the room.

His head met the brick wall first, the impact instantly knocking him out cold. Isaac’s head then whipped in our direction, and my breath caught. A bolt of fear surged up my spine as his empty eyes caught mine. They weren’t even glowing, which was somehow much worse. I’d barely noticed the guy when he was a human, but the sight of him as a werewolf right now was terrifying.

My heart lurched in my chest as he suddenly sprang toward us. Stiles gripped my elbow and tried to pull me with him as he scrambled away, but Isaac got to me first.

“No!” Stiles yelled frantically, flailing up onto his feet as quickly as possible.

And that brings us back to the present...

I peeled my eyes open when the room went silent again and stared ahead with wide eyes, my breath reduced to trembling gasps. Isaac’s beastly face was only inches from mine, our close proximity only making my heart beat faster.

Suddenly, a loud crunch echoed through the room. Isaac whipped around, momentarily forgetting about me, and I peered around his shoulder shakily. Derek’s eyes slowly rose from the syringe he’d just stomped to pieces, landing on mine and Isaac’s compromising position with a glare.

Suddenly, Isaac turned around and lunged toward him with a growl. Derek snarled, revealing his sharpened canines, and growled loudly. My eyes pinched shut as the walls vibrated from the sheer volume of it. I sagged to the concrete floor, my knees giving out as I suddenly felt faint.

My vision blurred as I slid down the brick wall, but I could still make out the way Isaac dropped down and cowered into a corner. Derek finally stopped roaring and easily shifted back into his human form, his teeth and finger nails retracting. Within a second a pair of strong arms were wrapped around my shoulders. I was hauled into a warm chest, and I let my eyes fall closed with relief.

“How did you do that?” Stiles breath fanned the top of my head as he ran a hand down my back soothingly.

I let my eyes flutter open to look at Derek, only to find that he was already studying me curiously. I already knew the answer, and it did nothing to calm my nerves. He was not only an alpha, but the alpha that bit Isaac. They had a connection, just like Peter and I. I couldn’t help but wonder, as my gaze flickered toward Isaac’s crumpled frame...

If Derek had that kind of power over him, what did that mean for me?

Episode 1, Part Two Episode 3

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anxiouslyfred · 4 years

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You Wouldn’t Steal a Movie

for @dukexietyweek‘s day 3 prompt of Pirates, all that’s coming into my head is that antipiracy add on videos. Let’s run with it

Summary: Virgil wanted to be a pirate when he grew up but pirating films and music doesn’t quite fill his dreams. After a small comment about that Remus suddenly wants to pirate a pirate ship and by hell he’ll achieve it.

Warnings: theft, piracy, sexual comments, pining, if there’s anymore let me know

/\/\/\/\/\

Virgil had met Remus when they were in school. They’d been sat next to each other on the first day of class when their teacher decided that the best way to have a successful start was some conversation games. Really they’d just been given quiz sheets of questions to ask each other and had to go through them.

Now Virgil could only remember one of the questions he had been asked since each sheet had held a different selection of questions. Remus had asked what he wanted to be when he grew up and he’d insisted that he’d become a pirate.

Looking back at that excitement and all the games Remus used that sentence to pull him into, Virgil really wished that had just stayed a dream. Instead he was headbutting the desk next to his computer, praying it would play along sometime this decade.

“You know I don’t actually need any more stock this week. What on earth are you attacking the poor desk over.” Remus called, sprawled over their couch upside down. He had been the one to get them into movie and music piracy, opening a market stand up after Virgil worked out the easiest ways to get the movies downloaded.

Remus had insisted it was just like the pirates, only instead of the oceans their seas were websites and movie theaters, and the swordfights were replaced with viruses Virgil had been creating and destroying since he first hacked into their schools mainframe.

The glare Virgil turned to him with showed that the five-hundreth realisation that it wasn’t was about to explode and the popcorn he kept behind the cushions was all prepared to watch it.

Seeing the popcorn get brought out though had Virgil silently talking himself through the breathing exercises most often used to help his anxiety. They’d always doubled to prevent him from blowing up at Remus if he remembered in time. When he spoke all he said was, “When I said I wanted to be a pirate, I was expecting more ships than this.”

“Ooooh, Do you wanna try pirating a pirate ship? There’s gotta be a way to download one I swear or the modern world has failed me!” Remus bounced over, the idea clearly racing through his brain as with a few clicks he managed to reset and finish the download Virgil had been staring at trying to resolve the issues from it for an hour.

“You could have done that earlier. And wouldn’t we at least need like a 3D printer or something if we’re going to download a pirate ship.” Virgil cautioned, already tempted to see just what had appeared in Remus’s room recently.

That room was one Virgil usually tried to ignore given how many things would be brought home as market bargains only to get transformed into something completely different. The last time he’d looked through the door there was what seemed to be three rugs slowly getting cut and sewn into frankenstiens monster.

Remus was shaking his head already. “Or I could get the location for nearby ship owners, visit claiming to be an elite caterer or something, steal or copy all the keys in their house then try each of them until we’ve got the boat for ourselves.”

“And how are you going to avoid getting arrested while doing all of that? Or store a boat while you turn it into a pirate ship?” Virgil had to ask about the flaws in the plan, not caring about the cover story since Remus was actually qualified in catering after getting bored one summer while Virgil was in college.

The concerns were easily waved off, “I found this cave, really big except for the entrance although a ship could get into it at low tide. That would be a perfect place for our pirate ship. Also it’s easy enough to convince rich guys to show off their wealth with parties on their boats.

“Hang about they’d probably actually give me keys to the boat for the duration of that party. If I just made a side trip to Janus’s shop I could have the copy made and actually get paid for the catering job at the same time!” Remus cheered, nodding at Virgil as though waiting for any other concerns.

Virgil couldn’t be bothered to go into plotting with his best friend after so long arguing with his computer though so decided to just walk away instead. Hopefully this would all get forgotten by the morning.

/\/\

It wasn’t forgotten and the tuxedo Remus had somehow gained while Virgil slept had a lot of thoughts Virgil would never admit to running through his head. “Please tell me your brother has called about a family event and that’s why you’re dressed up?”

“Are you asking to get dolled up too because I have some scandalous outfits you could try on?” Remus smirked, doing a spin. The bow with a wink was enough to increase the blush on Virgil’s cheeks to a vibrant red reaching his ears.

“Never.”

Luckily Remus had already tired of that bit of teasing, grabbing a folder from the desk. “I’ve got to visit this lawyers family. He seemed rather interested when I reached out last night as a catering start up one of his colleagues is funding. I’ll have your pirate ship in no time, little Incubus.”

Virigl could only groan as Remus left, wondering just how long his blushing could be ignored for. Part of his mind wanted to worry about what remus was getting them into but he’d know the other for too long to seriously think he’d be able to change anything now.

/\/\

The next month passed quietly so far as Virgil was concerned. He carried on getting stock made for Remus’s market and tried to remain speaking whenever Remus disappeared in his tuxedo, without getting flustered.

He did notice when the tuxedo disappeared from the outfits Remus wore regularly after a month. There had been nothing more said about getting a pirate ship, but Virgil had known that was still what his room-mate had been disappearing to try and manage, and he’d thought it was going well.

There had even been a night of celebration with leftovers from what Virgil had thought would be one of the final events Remus did for the pirate ship. They’d gone out to the clifftops over the ocean, curled up either side of a skull and crossbones blanket and laughed about all the monsters they could find at sea or on land.

Instead of being dragged out to a ship shortly afterwards though Virgil just noticed that Remus was disappearing off in his comfy clothes, sometimes with a giant rucksack that would return empty. For all the random bouts of flirting between them still happened Virgil became certain that Remus had forgotten about getting a pirate ship in favour of some fling although that didn’t explain why the details of it hadn’t been shared.

Trying to deny any hurt at that possibility Virgil scolded himself that they’d never been together for him to get hurt over anything in the first place. It didn’t work very well.

/\/\

Almost three months since Remus had decided to give Virgil his wish of having a pirate ship and he was finally ready to share everything he’d managed to do.

Virgil had been right about the things he’d need to do to remain unsuspected by the law as well as actually come out of it with the boat. He’d just forgotten that any ship Remus was able to steal through that method wasn’t going to look like a pirate ship at all without a lot of work.

Remus had been determined though. If he was going to make his loves dreams come true again then the ship had to be a pirate ship before Virgil could ever see it. Perhaps this time he’d actually be understood when he told Virgil he loved him even.

He’d noticed the looks when wearing the tuxedo and all the blushes Virgil had been trying to hide for years, but honestly that outfit was never one he liked to wear. Remus had even registered some reluctance or upset from Virgil recently although he was a bit more confused about it and just hoped that whatever thoughts were upsetting him could be worked through soon enough.

For now though he’d finally tied the last flag to the mast and was ready to bring Virgil to their very own pirate ship. The next afternoon sounded like the perfect time.

/\/\

Virgil wasn’t quite sure what to think about being corralled out to the car after having thigh high leather boots thrown at him along with a loose shirt and black leather jacket. Remus had already been decked out in mostly leather when he barged back into their apartment, and had even added beads and braids to his hair alongside the usual excess of jewelery he’d wear.

He wasn’t about to refuse a hyperactive and affectionate Remus though, especially not one practically pulling his arm out with his bouncing as they headed off. “Come on, Black Hole, I wanna show you my best biggest surprise ever, and I’m not talking about the monster in my pants, though I’m happy to show you that too.”

“Where are you even taking me? I thought you had a fling going on that was taking up oh so much of your time.” Virgil tried to demand, instead snickering as he spoke until he registered the words had stilled Remus’s enthusiasm.

In fact Remus had stilled so much he wasn’t getting into the car.

“O-okay, what did I say to upset you? We can get in the car now.” Virgil stuttered out after being stared at for almost a minute, never hearing the car doors unlock.

“Only fling I’ve been having is with my hand.” Eventually Remus blinked out of the stunned realisation of how Virgil had thought he’d been spending his days. “Literally you’re the sewer map that guides me and thought I’d do anything like that without at least mentioning it to you? Virgil I freaking have been exhausting myself constantly for your surprise. There’s no action in the world that could take me away from your side, not even if you said the kraken and mothman wanted to invite me for a threesome!”

The words almost froze Virgil in turn but he still reacted enough to climb into the car as soon as it was unlocked. “So..” he tried to ask about the rant but was cut off by a finger on his lips.

“Let’s get to your surprise and then we’ll talk there.” Remus insisted, turning music on to further prevent any conversation.

/\/\

After being coaxed through a tiny cavern, constantly climbing downwards with a rope he was sure Remus had pinned to the edge himself to act as a safety tool Virgil had begun to remember what this could be. That didn’t do anything to prepare him for when the single rope turned into a rope ladder dropping down through the masts of a pirate ship.

“Woah!” There were no other words for him to say. It looked excatly like the pirate ships from the books and films he’d adored as a child. Virgil could only spin around taking in all the details and additions he was sure Remus must had made himself somehow.

“Captain Sanders, I believe you are missing your hat.” Remus said, breaking through his awed staring and holding out a captains hat, completed with a large purple feather.

“You got me a full on pirate ship.” Virgil whispered, still shocked.

Remus just nodded, “Well it at least looks like that while above deck. Downstairs it’s a lot more of how I felt like decorating in the moment. The kitchen is awesome though so I’m cooking us dinner tonight.”

“You said you’ve been exhausting yourself to do this for me?” Virgil asked, entirely believing that now, but not quite able to comprehend anybody doing such a momentous task all for him.

“Captain, do you realise just how much you could ask for and I’d do everything I could to get it for you? I’m driven to insanity for you and will thank you for it in every way I can think of.” Remus raved, barely even realising how close his steps brought them until he was looking down at Virgil.

Virgil swallowed, shaking his head, “Does that list include kissing me?” He spoke.

There were no words after that as their lips finally met, aboard a pirate ship in a hidden cavern.

#dukexietyweek2020 #dukexiety #remus sanders #virgil sanders #pirates #piracy #stealing a ship

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recentanimenews · 3 years

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FEATURE: How I Got Into Sakuga

Kaiba, Directed by Masaaki Yuasa

If you’re an anime fan, you’re likely an animation fan in general. But how do you know when an animation is “good”? How do you learn to identify an animator by only what you see, or tell when their drawings are better than usual?

English-speaking anime fans have adopted sakuga as a general catch-all term for exceptional animation. While the word sakuga itself means “animation,” in this context, sakuga has come to mean something very specific: Not just animation that looks cool, but the deliberate handiwork of specific animators with specific artistic aspirations. For example, a single-animator project might have a lot of “sakuga shots” because it has a personal, highly-refined style. Meanwhile, a television series might have an entire team of varying specialists for a larger narrative. Some of this might be attributed to specific key animators, while some might be credited to an entire studio — transformation sequences, explosive missiles, robots — that’s all fair game to be called sakuga. But how do you really know if what you’re looking at really is this so-called “sakuga?”

Like most art, it’s almost entirely subjective. Here’s my story.

Project A-ko, a high-energy 1986 OVA series best remembered for its exceptional animation staff

(Image via Retrocrush)

All’s Fair in Love and War Games

When I was a kid, I got my hands on the English-dubbed Digimon: The Movie on VHS. This notorious release was a three-part recut of Mamoru Hosoda’s Digimon OVAs released from 1999 to 2000, heavily featuring his second film Digimon Adventure: Our War Game. Of course, I didn’t experience this package as a “Hosoda anime” at the time. Besides the inspired inclusion of Barenaked Ladies’ "One Week" to the soundtrack, I strongly associate these films with Hosoda’s signature interpretation of Katsuyoshi Nakatsuru’s original Digimon Adventure character designs. Compared to the Toei-produced television series, these renditions of the Digi-Destined are charmingly off-model and move with awkward intention, like actual kids up against terrifying monsters.

In a sense, that’s what most people mean by sakuga — animation that makes us lean in and notice traits about the world and characters that can’t be communicated otherwise. Sakuga, in particular, places special emphasis on an individual animator’s keyframes, or the drawings used as a basis for in-between frames during movement. That’s what I mean by the phrase “Hosoda anime.” If you watch Summer Wars or The Girl Who Leapt Through Time enough times, anyone will notice a stylistic palette of idiosyncrasies.

Digimon Adventure “Home Away From Home” directed by Mamoru Hosoda

(Image via Hulu)

An Emerging Style

When I got older and realized there was more anime than what was on cable, I kept returning to “flat” style animation with films like Tatsuo Satō’s 2001 Cat Soup and Shōji Kawamori’s 1996 Spring and Chaos. Around this time, contemporary artist Takashi Murakami also began developing his own “superflat” style (coined in his 2000 book Superflat and later in Little Boy: The Arts of Japan's Exploding Subculture) we’ll return to. Once I got a taste for the experimental, I never turned back.

But back to Hosoda. Less focused on the details of models and more fixated on a “flat” or fluid style of movement, the key animation in Hosoda’s films makes body language a priority. This is perhaps the best thing about good sakuga — its potential to express deep emotion even under production constraints. My favorite example comes from the first Digimon short film Hosoda directed, the simply titled Digimon Adventure from 1999.

Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!, Directed by Masaaki Yuasa

Originally conceived as a standalone for Bandai’s then-new Digital Monsters virtual pet toys, this version of Digimon is less loud, more atmospheric — and sincerely preoccupied with the question: “How would little kids actually handle a giant monster of their own?” The result is an unforgettable shot of Kairi, Tai’s little sister desperately blowing her whistle, stopping to catch her breath, then spitting and coughing in an attempt to calm down their newly evolved kaiju Greymon friend.

For the television series, Hosoda directed the episode “Home Away From,” depicting the two siblings clinging to each other as the other slowly drifts back to the Digital World. In both scenes, characters don’t constantly move, but only act when necessary via careful manipulation of the frames. This technique not only makes everything seem more “realistic,” but also acts as a visual cue for the anxiety Tai and Kairi feel. In other words, painstakingly controlled animation serves both form and function, especially when you’re selling an emotional climax of another kid-meets-monster plot.

Tomorrow’s Joe, 1980 film adaptation of the 1970 TV anime series directed by Osamu Dezaki

(Image via Retrocrush)

A Little History Lesson

After Digimon, Hosoda and Nakatsuru collaborated on films like Summer Wars and the Takashi Murakami-inspired pop art short Superflat Monogram. Hosoda is no doubt inescapable to sakuga fans today thanks to the ubiquity of his feature films. Still, Hosoda obviously wasn’t the first sakuga animator. Animators like Yasuo Ōtsuka, known for his cinematic work in a pre-Ghibli era of anime film with Toei, documented the growth ‘60s and ‘70s of Japan’s animation industry in his 2013 book Sakuga Asemamire. When the demand for films lowered in favor of anime television during that era, animators took risks. Classics of the era like Tiger Mask and Tomorrow's Joe literally held no punches, and Osamu Tezuka’s own Mushi Productions dove headfirst into experimental adult films. Animators, and especially keyframe animators, had creative control. In this perfect storm, the advent of sakuga was inevitable.

Everyman Ken Kubo is taught the ways of eighties anime in Otaku no Video

(Image via Retrocrush)

Why Bother With Sakuga?

In 2013, animation aficionado Sean Bires and company hosted an informational panel titled “Sakuga: The Animation of Anime” at Anime Central Chicago. Uploaded to YouTube that same year, this panel informed my younger self’s understanding of not just the “how” of sakuga, but the “why” it even needed to exist in anyone’s vocabulary. Accessible, meticulously researched, and full of visual references, Sean’s two-hour panel-lecture does the heavy lifting of contextualizing anime not just through a historical lens, but within the broader project of expanding cinematic techniques. This primer might sound heady, but considering the popularity of Masaaki Yuasa’s series like Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!, and references to animator Ichirō Itano’s “Itano circus” missiles in American cartoons like DuckTales, it’s hard to say sakuga isn't relevant. Nowadays, it's practically a trope to parody one of Dezaki's most iconic shots. Supplemented by a rich community of blogs and forums, it couldn’t be easier to learn about animators like Yasuo Ōtsuka or the early days of Toei if you want a bigger picture. Blogs like Ben Ettinger’s Anipages and the aptly named Sakuga Blog are a good place to start, not to mention dozens of dedicated galleries of anime production and art books published by studios themselves. Now couldn’t be a better time to vicariously live your art school dreams through anime masterworks.

Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland, a 1989 film featuring animation by Yasuo Ōtsuka best known for his work on the Lupin III franchise

Sakuga Is For Everyone

Fans have always been obsessed with the technicalities of animation, even if they weren't artists. As early as 2007, uncut dubbed collector box sets for Naruto came with annotated booklets of episode storyboards. More recently, critically-acclaimed series like Shirobako further explicated this love for animation as a team effort — people love attaching other people to art. In contrast, psychological horror series like Satoshi Kon’s Paranoia Agent features an episode about an anime studio’s production going terribly wrong. Not to mention the endlessly self-referential Otaku no Video Gainax OVA and its depiction of zealous sakuga otaku. Anime fans adore watching anime be born over and over. It’s that simple.

Digimon Adventure “Home Away From Home” directed by Mamoru Hosoda

(Image via Hulu)

Today, I’d comfortably call some shots from Hosoda Digimon films great sakuga. But Koromon is still weird. Sorry. The love for sakuga isn’t a contest to one-up fans on production trivia or terminology. It’s about taking the time to appreciate the fact that anime is ultimately a collaborative artistic endeavor. From tracing back the lineage of animators like Yoshinori Kanada to Kill la Kill, to appreciating the visual sugar rush of Project A-Ko alongside slow-paced Ghibli films, “getting into sakuga” isn't a passive effort, nor a waste of time. Besides, wouldn't it be fun understanding how your favorite animator achieved your favorite scene? The phrase "labor of love" is cliché, but maybe that’s a good synonym for what role sakuga inevitably plays for artists and fans alike — work that brings you joy, no matter how you cut it. Who is your favorite animator? When did you get into sakuga? Let us know in the comments below!

Blake P. is a weekly columnist for Crunchyroll Features. His twitter is @_dispossessed. His bylines include Fanbyte, VRV, Unwinnable, and more. He actually doesn't hate Koromon.

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By: Blake Planty

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