#SMILING TO CONVINCE HIS VIEWERS AND US THE AUDIENCE AND EVEN HE HIMSELF THAT HE'S IN CONTROL OF HIS SITUATION

[vaggieslefteye]

Appreciating Hazbin Hotel's Character Expressions ↳ ᴀɴɢᴇʟ ᴅᴜꜱᴛ in 1x04 - "Masquerade"

[w3bgrl]

tea time w/ seung&joong — vlive highlights

t/n: english. satoori.

it’s about 8 PM KST when viewers tuning into todays vlive are greeted by cutesy animal crossing music paired an even cuter duo waving with tight-lipped grins. “hello!” they chirp as the live chat quickly fills with a myriad of different greetings. juyeon and seungmin sit for a moment in wait for more viewers to join, bobbing along to the music and making cute faces as they glanced over the comments.

“okay,” juyeon finally says after sitting long enough to garner a few thousand viewers “hello everyone! how was your day today? honestly, seungmin and i had quite a long day today, so we thought we’d go live together to have a nice, chill time with stay and wind down before bed. how does that sound?”

seungmin is already chuckling to himself at the implication in her words before continuing, “joona and i typically have green tea at the end of the day, so we’ve prepared our tea and locked the door to make sure this will be a relaxing live.” juyeon is now laughing as she lifts her own steaming mug to show the audience laughing alongside them.

“like an asmr live without the asmr.”

“right,” seungmin says as he looks down at the comments on his phone “we’ll just be chatting and hanging out until we finish our tea, so send in some questions.”

“noona do you speak gyeongsang dialect or jeolla dialect?” seungmin read the comment aloud as if for her to answer and then went right into his own “honestly, chu uses both at home. her jeolla satoori always comes out when she’s trying to butter someone up.”

juyeon chuckled at seungmin’s blunt yet true statement, listening intently as he continued. “the jeolla dialect is kind of…silly…sounding…but it also has a lower pitch than her usual speaking tone, so she convinces the members by making them laugh. it’s really a superpower. no one can say no.”

“as for gyeongsang…well, the daegu satoori is higher tonally but sounds very sharp and direct, so it’s like her mom voice — it usually comes out when she’s really tired or after eating a lot.”

“yah —” the older girl now looks up from the comments at him, eyebrows furrowed as she glares over at him only to earn an innocent smile in return. he was too cute to be truly mad at, but she could pretend! “what does that mean? your assessment is all wrong!”

seungpuppy simply giggles. “no~ whenever we perform on music shows and you’re sleeping in the waiting rooms you’ll tell us to be quiet like a mom. like…” now a full laugh slips out as he straightens out to mimic her “‘hold your tongues or i’ll do it myself.’”

“i’ve never said that!” juyeon’s voice had noticeably raised a few decibels, a note that made seungmin smirk “you’re such a liar!”

the devious younger boy laughs again “that is what you sound like, though.” having proved his point through seemingly premeditated jabs he moves on with utter nonchalance, starting a whole new anecdote after a comment caught his eye.

“juyeon what is your favorite color?” she reads aloud before whipping to seungmin, smiling smugly as she clasped her cup closer “seungmin-ah? what’s my favorite color?”

for a moment he simply blinks back at her. “well…” seungmin trails off, earning himself a raised brow from the older girl now sitting back in her seat. “well?”

“you like red — you always have red lipstick on.”

juyeon shakes her head with a soft sigh "i do like red, but not my favorite. my favorite color is a hard color to wear, it's more of an accessory color."

the younger boys eyebrows furrow as he thinks, head tilting to the side while his gaze panned to the live broadcast like the answer would be hidden in the audience comments. "you don't wear it often?" juyeon shook her head again.

"mmm...orange." "close but no." "salmon?"

finally juyeon huffs and a shrill whine escapes her throat as she moves her seat to fully face seungmin who, giggling at the audience to hide from her sharp eyes, glances over at the call of his name. "kim seungmin! how can you not know this? it was my phone case for 6 months!"

seungmin belly laughs at her conviction, "i'm sorry, i don't remember."

juyeon rolls her eyes as animated as she can before grabbing her phone, notably cased in a primarily red flower design, before smiling up at the audience. "everyone, it's yellow. please remember yellow as my favorite color since this kid can't."

“what’s mine then?” he butts in expectantly. juyeon simply sighs as she scrolls through the comments. “purple, of course.”

as juyeon's story comes to a close, a certain anecdote stands out to seungmin before a reminiscent smile dawns on his face. "noona," he says, catching the attention of the older girl "remember when it snowed?"

"recently?" juyeon asks. seungmin shakes his head. "last year, when we all went outside to make a snowman."

"ohhhhhh" she now trials off with a similar smile curling her lips, cheeks now a shade pinker than before "maybe..."

seungmin turns back to the camera upon juyeon's hesitant response and laughs as he reveals what it was that he'd been reminded of; "last year it snowed while we were all in the studio, so we went outside to play in the snow before we went home even though we didn't have clothes for the weather."

halfway through juyeon whines about what's coming next but she doesn't stop him, instead tuning in to listen attentively.

"so, we get outside and joona starts walking out in her slippers, but before she sees the ice she goes to grab a handful of snow on the sidewalk and ends up falling right on her back." seungmin laughs almost like a kid "but! the best part is, the way she fell — her legs came up and her slippers flew right off — they were up in the air for like a minute before they came back down."

juyeon now 'inconspicuously' sips her tea, eyes peering over the edge of the cup to the stays laughing at her misfortune.

"oh!" after a long pause of silence as they read the comments juyeon abruptly exclaims and straightens out, subsequently causing seungmin to nearly jump in his seat, eyes wide at her sudden burst of energy despite the relaxing tea.

juyeon continues with a devious smoothness to her tone "you and han went on a date the other day, right?"

said 'date' was a recent outing together in which fans spotted them eating one-on-one and ended up taking pictures with the stay through the window, leading to a viral interaction online and memes being sent to juyeon. one of these messages sent on bubble, however, pointed out a special detail within the pictures.

and yet, seungmin is oblivious as he mumbles, "yeah?..."

“did you have a nice time? was it good?” juyeon smiles. it would almost be creepy if not for how cute she was. “yeah…?” seungmin utters.

"what song were you listening to? was the sound quality good? comfier than usual?" she's now scrolling on her phone in search of something, eagle eyed stays pointing out the bubble colors. seungmin is still lost. "what?"

finally juyeon finds what she is looking for and clicks on it to show seungmin with a 'gotcha!' type look. "those are my headphones — the ones i cried about losing on bubble."

finally, seungmin now understands what was going on. those pink headphones, juyeon's precious beats that she used every day, were pictured around his neck in the photos posed with stays despite her reminding him to drop them off after vocal practice. he gulped.

“oh.” seungmin chuckled nervously “isn’t that funny?”

“mmhm” juyeon hums triumphantly “super funny.”

with one last sip of her tea juyeon loudly finishes her cup and sets it back on the table, garnering seungmin’s attention as he peeks into her now empty mug.

“you just now finished it?"

she hums in response. seungmin turns back to the live. "joongie must be sleepy from the tea, she drank it so slow tonight."

"maybe i just wanted to talk with stay longer than you." juyeon now butts the younger boy from the speaker's box with a smile at the audience "stay~ we've officially finished our tea, so you know what that means; it is time for bed! please rest well tonight thinking of joongie who loves you most!"

laughing at her triumphant end to the live that had her fighting to hold herself back from the monster seungmin on her left, juyeon begins to wave as she reaches forward, pushing said monster seung to frantically wave himself.

"bye bye! thank you for tuning in!"

[serwaymarroyce]

Continued RP with @vaeycllas from here

“May be for the best you came alone. Why, if your dragon offered a plume of flame for us the whole forest may go up! Woosh.” The ‘woosh’ was, indeed, animated with a gesture that could best be described either as a forest becoming a conflagration or a loaf of bread rising with far too much yeast. Which was to be chosen depended entirely upon the viewer. In this case, Vaeyella.

“Far too much fun, my lady?” Waymar repeated, the wellspring of his curiosity clearly tapped at that potential topic of conversation. “Now there is certainly a story to share there. What a great happenstance you have an eager audience to share it with.” Waymar raised his arms in a gesture to the woods about them. Besides the great sentinel trees, the frost touched foliage and the snow about them only Waymar could count himself among this ‘eager audience’. He was, at the very least, the only one of the aforementioned with ears to hear the Princess of Dragonstone’s would-be tale.

A branch was snapped, and then another, from the pile alongside Waymar. The freshly broken fuel added to the fire as he listened, and only seemed to like what he heard as her words served to be fuel to his jovial mood. All smiles and laughs, interrupted only to warm hands on the fire. 

It was cold. There was no doubting that. Even without the aid of the wind the cold itself was a foe to be contended with. Especially when the sun had set. The breath could be seen misting off the light of the fire, and in the light of the day earlier when the wall could be seen it was seen to not be weeping. Winter, it seemed, was truly upon them.

“Come now, your visit will do wonders to lift spirits from Eastwatch to the Shadow Tower. You must not have heard what the common folk call you. ‘The Realm’s Delight come again’. Heard it from the lips of an oarsman not a month ago.”

Waymar rummaged through the bag at his flank, a victorious smile flashing across his features at the withdrawal of a wineskin. Which was offered first over to Vaeyella. “Such a visit lets the Watch know that they, nor their sacrifices, have been forgotten. Raise the morale. Possibly even convince the Queen on your return to send the men and materials to patch that gigantic, gaping hole in the Wall as well.” Now it was Waymar’s turn for humor, and laugh at his own jest he did.

Truth be told, this had been Waymar’s first and only time partaking in being ‘strapped with a Princess’. Such a thing was as high of an honor as any anointed knight could hope for. Such a thing served to feed the ravenous ego that such an honor carried with it as sure as flames were hot.

“The Watch wanted to ensure you would have a knightly detail, as a Princess ought to. Usually they would send twenty, if not thirty men and all their retainers. This time, well, what we lacked in quantity they must have wanted to make up for in quality.” A gesture to himself and a wry smile to match said it all. Waymar certainly was pleased with the circumstances. “So here I am. Nobody said such an escort would be as…enjoyable as it has. Speaking with you comes as easy as breathing.”

[demonsfate]

I’ve talked about Jun’s pacifism in the Bloodline, but I think I want to really go into detail of why it just... annoyed me. When I criticized it on Reddit, I got received a lot of criticism back for it. Saying that Jun’s pacifism was understandable. And I would agree with this - had the anime been better written, then it could’ve worked, perhaps. But the way they went about it, Jun’s pacifism just came off as strict, and annoying. I’ll be comparing the pacifism to other pacifism in various, better written, media. And Jun’s “motives” (or what felt like lack of.)

First, her motives. Yes, it can be said that Jun’s so serious about Jin not fighting offensively, but defensively is because of what happened to his father, that Jun doesn’t want her son to go down the same dark path of his father. But the thing is... Jun barely (if ever) talked about Kazuya in Bloodline. We don’t have any idea of how she actually felt about Kazuya, what made her love him in the first place, and how his “dark turn” and “death” impacted her. Like they spoke about telling us new things about Jin’s backstory - but they really could’ve focused on his parents and what Kazuya meant to Jun - if just for a little bit to give the audience a better understanding.

Like maybe a flashback of her failing to save Kazuya from himself. And how much this pained her to see someone she loved so dearly turn into this... monster. Therefore, because she can’t bear to see this happen again, she is very strict with her son and how he handles violence against others. Therefore, even if it may be dissatisfying to see Jun telling Jin he can’t snap against bullies who have been physically abusive to him for WEEKS, it would make the viewer better understand Jun, and why she feels so strongly about this. Some could even relate, or at least sympathize better with her. But the anime failed to tell you anything about Kazuya other than he was Pure Evil, which made you wonder how Jun even had a child with this man. Hell, it emphasizes how Jin could go down the same path but like - Jin, we’re showed he’s a very good man with a temper in the anime. But Kazuya - they acted like he was always evil - we’re never given any examples of what a good man he used to be, or how he could’ve been similar to his son. Hell, they don’t even tell us about Heihachi throwing him off a cliff as a child. So, other than losing his temper, how can we be convinced that Jin could possibly become the same as Kazuya?

Now comparing her to other pacifists in media. A good scene to use is when a drunken ADULT MAN (jin is 15 years old here) literally cracks open a beer bottle and threatens severely harm Jin. 

and then Jin smirks while watching his mother put this ADULT down on his ass. And THEN SHE PROCEEDS TO SCOLD HIM FOR IT SDJFNDSJFNJDFNJN

Which yes, perhaps one shouldn’t take much pleasure in the suffering of others - but when they threaten to severely harm you, and when it’s the father of a bully who had been physically abusing you for weeks... then yeah, maybe it’s okay to be a little happy about seeing them get what’s theirs. Like most of the time, when someone’s watching a show, and the bad guy who has been tormenting the protagonist (or a good character) finally get repercussions, it’s usually very satisfying to the audience - they usually even cheer it. 

Like a brooding, gloomy ass Batman from the Animated Series - we still watch him smile and even, sometimes, considerably “cruelly” tease his enemies - like here when he hangs Joker from a big distance, and then smiles casually as Joker just hangs - scared for his life.

But the audience didn’t see this as cruel, or Batman potentially going down a Dark Path. No, the audience loved this, and saw it as satisfying as Batman does here. Because Joker is a horrible person who has harmed people, therefore - it is VERY satisfying to see Joker get a taste of his medicine - it is what you want to see. And especially when we know Batman’s not going to actually kill Joker - that Batman still values life, even if he does have a little fun with fucking with the villains from time to time.

Vash the Stampede from Trigun (a much superior anime) is also a good example. He fucking uses a GUN! He hurts people constantly, and has fun doing it - often mocking the bad guys in silly ways-

But Vash harming people who deserve it is, again, satisfying to watch - and we always still cheer him, because even though he hurts people - he always makes sure they live, and have a chance at life in the end. Therefore, the bad guy gets what they deserve, all while being shown compassion, too.

And I know that Bloodline’s whole thing is don’t go too far, and don’t give into your anger. But these scenes are just, in my opinion, poor executions of it and just leaves you more frustrated than anything. Being told not to even smile when someone gets their comeuppance is just... annoying and feels pretentious. It’s telling the audience they can’t enjoy it when something bad happens to a bad person (especially that of fiction) A better time Bloodline did execute this lesson of “don’t go too far” is when Jin broke Leroy’s leg in the tournament. That time, yeah - we did feel that Jin went too far, and that Leroy didn’t deserve that, as he’s just a grieving man. But everything with the bullies, as I said, just felt poorly executed - especially in an anime that’s supposed to be about action.

I’ve also critiqued how funny it is that DJ beating up Heihachi was seen as him “going to the dark side” when Heihachi had not only abused him throughout those 4 years of raising him (especially during when Jin was in a vulnerable moment after losing his mother) but he had literally just shot and killed Jin. So, uh - again, it’s hard to feel that Jin is really at a turning point when he’s literally just FIGHTING BACK against someone who deserves it.

Anyways, again - this is all just my personal opinion. But I thought the pacifism in this show was, at times, poorly executed, and felt a bit... haughty, too. And obviously - I love both Batman: The Animated Series, and Trigun - I love pacifistic characters, but Bloodline is one of the worse takes on pacifism characters imo.

[ava-achlys]

The Boyz NSFW Scenarios

Sohn Youngjae/Eric - Incognito [Requested]

Request: Eric with a size kink!

dom! Eric x camgirl! reader

Warnings: size kink, dirty talk, pet names, hair pulling, some spanking, stomach bulge, slight degradation, daddy kink, color system, subspace, unprotected sex

This is the sequel to (Not Your Average) Girl Next Door. Thank you guys so much for all the love on the last one, I was so shocked and I'm so grateful 😭🥰 Hope you guys like this one too, and thanks again for requesting!

Eric gets a taste of performing for an audience.

Ever since that night you found out Eric had been a regular viewer of your channel, going by the username geniusohn, you two started dating and funnily enough, didn't jump straight to the sex as quickly as you had expected. Instead, he'd be in the same room with you as you livestreamed, jerking himself off as you touched yourself, adding to the realism of your shows. Your viewers quickly caught on since you kept glancing off-camera at his side of the room, curiously asking you who you were looking at, and whether you had managed to score that hot neighbor of yours. You shyly smiled, confessing to them that you and Eric (or as your audience knows him: The Neighbor™️) were seeing each other and taking it slow for now.

It finally happened one day, when you were at his house for a movie night, and an intense, romantic sex scene came on, and you felt him shifting uneasily. His arms were wrapped around your waist and you were leaning your head on his chest. Concerned, you looked up at him and asked if he was alright. "Yeah I'm totally fine, babe, don't worry," he chuckled awkwardly. An idea pops into your head, and as the sex scene intensifies, you keep leaving fleeting touches against Eric, setting his senses alight, and the tension in the room gets thicker and stuffier. By the end of the movie, Eric's pushed you up against the armrest of the sofa and is fucking you until you're seeing stars. Lewd moans echo through his living room, his face buried in your neck, grunting and whispering filthy praises into your skin as you sob at how it feels like he's rearranging your insides. He flips you onto your knees and pounds harshly into you, his monstrous girth repeatedly drilling into your cervix and you lose strength in your legs, letting Eric take over and hold you up as he uses you like a toy.

Your limp body jolts with every thrust and you're drooling, eyes rolled back into the back of your head and Eric holds you tightly against his broad frame as he cums, filling you with his seed. Fresh tears trickle down your cheeks as you climax all over his cock, your juices mingling and threatening to leak from your hole if it wasn't for his thick member keeping it all inside you. You rest your head back on his shoulder as both of you pant harshly, his arms securely around your waist and he plants soft soothing kisses along your neck. Smiling dreamily, you reach down to caress the small bump in your abdomen where his cock remains inside you, feeling warm, floaty and content with how full and complete he makes you feel.

It takes a while to convince Eric to join you on camera, since he's hesitant about putting himself on the Internet so openly. However, he's definitely intrigued, and he slowly warms up to the idea by instructing you off-camera on how to touch yourself during your streams. Your fans have fallen in love with his raspy voice and how you follow his commands and do it so well, so much that they're begging him to fuck you onscreen and show them how he wrecks you, like how you've been bragging to them. Your channel's view count has even increased and you've gained a bunch more fans ever since Eric debuted his voice on your show. By the fourth stream featuring his sexy voice, Eric sits you down and envelopes your small hands in his warm ones, smiling brightly as he tells you that he's ready to appear on camera with you.

Next was deciding on boundaries, settling on having Eric wear a mask to cover half his face, and he can take it off when he's off camera or his face is blocked or hidden while on camera. You also encourage him to use a fake name like you do, and he agrees to use old nickname from his childhood. A few more discussions and you're ready to feature Eric on screen for the first time in your next stream, and he's looking forward to joining you for more if finds himself comfortable enough after his first try.

Saturday finally comes around and you're buzzing with excitement. Eric comes over to your place early before the stream to help set up and you press a breathless kiss onto his lips the moment he steps through the door. He beams at you, nervous but thrilled to finally be trying this out, but he wholeheartedly trusts you to guide him. You check the set-up once, twice and on the third time, Eric catches you by the waist and makes you look up at him, squishing your cheeks with his palms. "Relax, baby, I'm the one who should be nervous," he chuckles good-naturedly, and you beam at him. "You're gonna do great, babe, just pretend it's us two alone in the room," you remind him. He nods and kisses you sweetly on your forehead, before checking the time. It's 5 minutes to stream, so he takes his shirt off and gets ready to make his grand entrance.

You settle onto the bed, wearing a brand new lingerie set that he bought you in his favorite bright pink lace, thigh-high sheer socks with cute little ribbons, and complete with fresh-looking makeup. Your look tonight further accentuates your doll-like features and the pink lace hugs your curves in all the right ways, and Eric could barely keep his hands off you before the stream, but he resists, knowing the best was yet to come. The timer goes off and your intro plays, and you get ready to greet your viewers as they come online, starting to leave comments and donations already. "Welcome back to Rubi's PlayCube, my loves! We've got a special show for you tonight, to celebrate my 1 year anniversary on this channel!" you cheer as you set off little party-poppers, and Eric throws some confetti around you.

"So you guys have been suggesting things for me to do for for our 1 year anniversary, and I hear you loud and clear. Let's just jump straight into it shall we? Guess who I've got here with me today!" Eric shuffles into frame, the camera only capturing him from the waist down, his defined abs and (most importantly) his already prominent bulge taking centre stage.

Holy fuck Rubi you weren't kidding bout his size

I'm so jealous

You giggle as he stands next to you, his crotch at your eye level, and you lick your lips at the sight before you, giving Eric a sultry look as you lightly trace over his bulge with a single finger before pressing a kiss onto it. He chuckles at how needy you are already, and bends down to wave at the camera, making sure his mask covers most of his face except for his stunning, fierce eyes.

"Hi guys I'm uhh.. Max, or as babydoll here likes to call me, Daddy."

Wow he's hot even with the mask on

Wish I had a hot neighbor to fuck me senseless

Come on sexy show us your face

Shit can I call you daddy too?

"Of course you can, sweet cheeks," Eric laughs airily. You pout and fold your arms over your chest. "Nooo he's my daddy, you can't have him!" you whine. Eric gives you a warning look and grasps your chin tightly, making you gasp and look up at him with pleading eyes. "Now now, baby, good girls know how to share. You're a good girl aren't you?" he murmurs thoughtfully, taking on the strict yet caring, sometimes slightly mocking persona that he usually uses as geniusohn. He brushes your lower lip with his thumb, and you kiss it sweetly, giving him your best puppy eyes. "Yes daddy, I am a good girl for you."

"Good, and I expect you to behave. But for now, I'll need to punish you for acting out." Your eyes widen comically, about to protest but one more glare from Eric is enough for you to bite your lip and nod quietly. He scoops you up into his arms easily, and rearranges you to be on your knees, ass to the camera as he softly massages your round cheeks. The wet patch in your panties is perfectly visible like this and Eric adds to it by running his index finger along your folds, making you whine softly. "Count for me, doll."

You gasp out the numbers as he spanks you; your volume and and his intensity increasing with each slap to your ass, your thighs, your pussy, and your clit. By the tenth spank, your thighs are trembling from a mix of pain and pleasure, tears cascading down your cheeks. He momentarily pulls down his mask to leave light kisses all over your hips and ass as he soothingly rubs the reddened skin, making sure the camera only sees the back of his head. Putting the mask back on, he settles onto the bed and pulls you onto his lap, hugging you and stroking your hair until you've calmed down and your crying has turned into soft sniffles. "You took your punishment so well, doll, I'm proud of you. Now, keep being a good girl and I'll give you your reward okay?" You nod and clamber off his lap as he stands again, and you eagerly unbuckle his belt and tug his pants and boxers down. His erection springs free and slaps wetly against his toned abs, standing at full attention and you feel your mouth and panties getting wetter just looking at it. Comments and donations flood your chat, the pinging sound of notifications incessantly going off.

Oh Rubi you're fucked

He can't be human

Wtf seriously how does that fit in his pants

Need me one of those

Eric nods encouragingly at you, and you smile, gently kissing his glistening tip. You grasp the base of his cock, and flatten your tongue as you slowly drag it up from the base to the tip, the silver ball on your tongue digging deliciously into his shaft and into his slit. Eric groans and winds his fingers loosely into your hair. You start to spread his leaking precum all over his blushing shaft, looking massive in your delicate hands. Slowly sinking your lips onto his throbbing member, you stroke the rest of his length that you wasn't in your mouth. You try to smile up at him, despite your having your lips stretched around his girth, and you take him deeper into your throat, inch by inch. Breathing deeply through your nose to counter your gag reflex, you continue until your lower lip touches his balls and his tip is deep in your throat.

Eric's grip on your hair tightens, and it's taking so much willpower to not thrust into your mouth immediately. He gently combs your hair to the side, tucking it behind your ears so your audience can see how your lips are stretched taut around his cock, and the faint outline of it down your throat. "Show them how you love to choke on my cock, baby," he commands through gritted teeth. You oblige, slowly bobbing your head and Eric throws his head back, groaning at the drag of your lips and tongue piercing on his shaft. You hollow your cheeks, swirling your tongue around the hot flesh at the same time, and Eric bucks his hips, causing you to gag. Tears spring in your eyes, but you continue to tease him, moaning sinfully around his cock just to rile him up and eventually Eric has had enough. "I thought I told you to be a good girl? Gonna keep acting like a bratty 'lil whore, I'll treat you like one," he spits through gritted teeth. He grabs your hair tightly and starts fucking your throat relentlessly without giving you any warning. You make a noise of protest, but he slaps your cheek lightly and continues to thrust into your mouth, making you take all of him.

Oooh daddy's mad now

Naughty girls get punished

Fuck thats so hot

Rubi's lips were made for sucking cock

"She loves to worship my cock, y'know. She'd suck on it for hours while I do my work, sitting pretty on her knees under the table. If she knew how to behave I'd let her suck me off all she wants, but she just had to be a little brat tonight, didn't you baby girl?" Eric sneers, still controlling your movements by your hair. Without even looking at the monitor you know you look filthy and Eric is loving the view. Your glossy lips are stretched taut, drool and precum dripping down your chin onto your breasts, mascara tears streaming down your cheeks. You're helplessly clawing at his thighs, desperate for something to hold on to as he carelessly uses your mouth.

Your throat feels raw and your scalp is hurting but you love every bit of it like the masochist you are. You love the taste of Eric, the weight of his dick on your tongue, and you love the way he uses you like his own personal toy. His groans get louder and you know he's close, so you squeeze his thighs to get his attention. "What is it baby? Want me to cum down your throat? Think you deserve it?" he grunts.

Cum all over her face daddy

Cum on her tits

Make her swallow every last drop

Eric chuckles breathlessly reading the comments. He tugs your hair, pulling you off his cock completely and you can't help but cough, each breath you take stinging your abused throat. "I shouldn't even have let you anywhere near my cock, but what can I say? I'm generous like that, right baby girl?" Eric holds you in place by your jaw as he roughly strokes himself to completion, intent on painting your face with his seed. You patiently wait on your knees, head tilted back with your mouth wide open and tongue lolling out, all pretty and ready to catch his cum. Eric curses loudly, snarling as ropes of cum spurt from his tip, splattering across your cheeks, tongue and even your tits. A moan escapes you as you feel the warm sticky fluid all over you, and you swallow whatever landed on your tongue, before scooping up dollops of his cum with your finger. Eric watches with a bemused expression as you stick your finger in your mouth, happily sucking it clean. Once you're done, you smile up at him, clearly proud of yourself, because no matter how rough Eric is with you, he would always end up giving you what you want or need. "Thank you, daddy."

He shakes his head as he massages your scalp tenderly. "You're downright filthy, you know that?" to which you enthusiastically nod. It was true after all. You didn't get this many loyal viewers by being tame and mild, something Eric can definitely vouch for. The comments and donations are still ringing off, and while you can't see them from your position, Eric does, and he nods thoughtfully as he reads them. "You want me to fuck her like that, huh? I can do that." Curious, you tilt your head cutely and blink up at him. Eric heads towards the bed, tugging his pants and boxers off fully and haphazardly discards them in a pile on the floor. He settles comfortably amongst the pillows, his still erect dick proudly on show. He wraps his hand around it, languidly stroking himself, reveling in the way you whimper with need as your eyes follow the movements of his hand.

"C'mere, doll. They wanna see you fuck yourself stupid on my cock." In a flash, you clamber onto the bed and seat yourself on his abs and face the camera, reverse cowgirl-style. You lean back onto Eric's warm torso to take your soaked panties off, chucking them to the side. His warm hands come up to graze your sides, humming into your shoulder as you part your legs, slowly pulling out the dildo that you kept inside you the whole evening, prepping you for the highlight of tonight. You moan softly as you fish it out from your folds, holding it up so your viewers can appreciate the way it glimmers with your juices. A glance at the monitor tells you your viewers are just as excited as you are, and you impatiently start grinding against Eric's member, your throbbing clit rubbing against him.

"Stop teasing yourself, baby. I already told you you can have me." Eric groaned and immediately, you position his tip into your folds and sink down slowly, a long drawn-out moan falling from your lips. Your head is tossed back, body shuddering at the pleasant stretch of your walls as he fills you up to the brim, and you clutch at your abdomen, feeling his dick all the way inside you. "D-daddy," you whimper, every nerve in your body on edge. Eric's filthy words, relentless teasing, and encouragement from your viewers pushes you to the brink of climax, but you know that if you hold on just a little longer, it would be all worth it. You're so caught up in these sensations that you barely register Eric unclasping your bra and pulling it down, until he gently eases your arms away from your tummy so he can remove your bra completely, making your chest thrust out towards the camera. Your beautiful mounds covered in a light sheen of perspiration, your rose gold piercings glinting enticingly in your warm bedroom lights. "Look at yourself, baby."

You dare yourself to look at the monitor, and you can't help but gasp. Though you've seen it dozens of times now, it throws you off every time seeing the slight bulge in your tummy, showcasing Eric's massive length inside you. And it seems like your viewers are thoroughly enjoying the view too. Transfixed, you lightly trace the outline of his dick under your skin, still amazed at how your body accommodates him so perfectly. You adjust yourself slightly, making Eric groan. His reactions motivate you to start riding him properly, pulling yourself up a couple of inches, feeling the drag of his throbbing cock against your walls, only to drop yourself back down instantly.

Needing more, you start a rhythm, bouncing relentlessly, every jab of his cock into your cervix sending pleasurable jolts of electricity through your entire body. Legs spread wide open, one arm resting on his abs for support, Eric's hands clutching your dainty hips with a bruising grip as he thrusts up into you, meeting you halfway. He steals a peek at the monitor, and swears lowly as he watches your tits bounce enticingly as you fuck yourself silly on his dick. You're drooling again, going cross-eyed with pleasure as broken moans of "Daddy", "fuck" and "please" fall from your smeared pink lips. His eyes are fixed on the way his cock glides into your cunt, and reappears as a bulge in your tummy each time.

"Crying again, doll? You love my cock so much that you're just so happy to have it inside you like that?" he sneers through gritted teeth as he catches sight of fresh tears streaming down your cheeks when he suddenly speeds up his thrusts. You're too absorbed in pleasure to reply to him, only able to frantically nod and babble incoherently. "Love getting fucked stupid like this don't you, doll? That's all you're good for, my little cumslut," Eric's taunts only serve to make you ride him faster and harder, proving his point. He winces when you suddenly claw at his thighs, digging your nails into his smooth skin, indicating your desperation for release. Though Eric may be somewhat of a sadist who gains pleasure by degrading you, he also deeply cares for you and wants to help you reach your climax, especially since he realizes you're almost losing it, going too far into subspace.

Alarmed, he slows his thrusts, but you continue to incessantly impale yourself onto his member. Eyes shut, mind blank, the only thing running through your head is getting you and Eric to climax. Sobbing pathetically, you scrabble at anything you can reach, needing something, anything to ground yourself. Your thighs are aching from all the effort and your chest is tightening from the lack of oxygen but Eric's stern but gentle voice breaks through your haze. "Baby, slow down, don't hurt yourself, please." He's dropped the arrogant, foul-mouthed character now, his warm hand rubbing your thigh soothingly as the other controls your hips, forcing you to ease up on your movements, and you shake with renewed, grateful sobs at how careful and sweet he's being.

It feels too intimate, too serious, as if both of you have forgotten that you're currently performing for an audience, but Eric could care less. Losing you in subspace has almost happened once before, and he'll be damned if he lets it happen again. Camshow or not, your safety and comfort is of utmost significance to him, especially since he's the one who turned you into this mess in the first place. Panicked memories of the last mishap flit through his brain, feeling guilt bubble in the pit of his stomach. "Breathe, baby, I need you to breathe with me. We're going to stop if you need to." Eric murmurs, changing his pace to a slow grind, worried that if he stops too suddenly, you might get upset. You shake your head softly, but gulp deep breaths of air at the same time, following his instructions well. "D-don't stop, just need to c-cum, please," you whisper.

"Color?"

"Green, daddy."

"You sure?"

"Yes daddy."

"Alright, baby, just tell me to stop if it's too much."

Eric sits up to gently reposition your bodies without fully pulling out, so that you're now lying comfortably on your back, and Eric is kneeling between your legs. You rarely have sex in missionary, but right now, you relish in the intimacy and closeness that this new position provides, feeling Eric's devotion and undivided attention through his intense, sweet gaze. He pushes back into you slowly, rocking his hips at a steady pace, urging sweet moans from your lips again. He maintains unbroken eye contact as he makes love to you, whispering sweet praises through his mask, telling you how good you are, how perfect you are, and how special you are to him. A dreamy smile graces your lips, butterflies in your tummy reminiscent of the first time you ever met him. You shut your eyes briefly, feeling that familiar coil tightening in your abdomen. You're so close, and you know Eric is too. He cups your cheek lovingly, stroking it gently, and you take it, pressing a sweet kiss to his palm. You smile up at him, and his eyes crinkle into slits, and you know he's mirroring your grin beneath that mask.

"I love you."

And just like that, a pleasantly warm floatiness engulfs your body, a relieved sigh exhaled from both of you and Eric. He rests his forehead on your shoulder, pulling his mask down slightly to kiss your neck as what feels like gallons of cum spurt from his tip, filling you up till you're bloated. You dreamily rub the bump in your tummy where he's still inside you, another happy, sated sigh falling from your lips. Exhaustion takes over, and all you can do is lay there, wincing as you feel Eric gingerly pulling out of you, a low moan escaping you when you feel his hot cum trickling out of you and down your ass. His voice feels so far away, barely registering that he's doing your outro for you. Honestly, you'd almost forgotten that you were doing your show, since you were just too focused on making Eric and yourself feel good. "Don't worry, she's fine, and I'll make sure to take good care of her," Eric is saying, and you smile softly, thankful that you've got such a caring boyfriend.

You lean into his touch when he strokes your hair, gently scooping you up to sit on his lap, and you lazily slouch into his embrace. He chuckles softly, tucking your messy hair behind your ears. "Thanks for watching, guys. Now say 'bye bye', Rubi," he encourages.

"Mmm bye bye Rubi," you mumble dozily, too tired to realize what you were saying. Eric shakes with laughter at your words, waving goodbye to the viewers once more before turning the stream off. Heaving a sigh, Eric rips his mask off, which is practically drenched from his sweat by now, and you reach up to squish his face with your hands, planting a kiss to his lips. "I missed seeing your face. Wanted to kiss you so bad," you mumbled, feeling him grin against your lips. "Well you can kiss me all night to make up for it," you perk up, only for your enthusiasm to dissipate when he continues his words. "But first we gotta get clean, baby." His energy never fails to impress you; after all that, he's still able to effortlessly pick you up to bring you to the bathroom. He draws you a warm bath with your favorite bath salts and washes up with you, laughing at your constant whines and grumbles of "I wanna sleep", only quieting down when he shampoos your hair for you, soothed by the gentle massage of his fingers on your scalp.

Once he's done, he carries you back to the bed, and tucks you in, fending off your grabby hands by promising to come back and cuddle once he's cleaned up the bathroom. He disappears, and you lay in the darkness, memories of that evening replaying in your head, unnecessary doubts clouding your mind when you remember one specific phrase. The lights in the bathroom shut off, and you see his familiar figure step out in just a pair of shorts, towelling his wet hair, jumping in surprise when he finds you staring at him from the bed. "I thought you already fell asleep," he chuckles, quickly recovering from the shock.

"Did you mean what you said?"

"W-what? When?" the poor boy looks confused at the sudden question.

"When you made me cum. You said you… you loved me," you hesitantly mumbled, starting to feel embarrassed, wondering if you had only imagined in the heat of the moment.

Eric barks out a laugh, startling you. He climbs into bed and pulls you tightly into his embrace, covering you in kisses all over your face, neck and anywhere he could reach. "You're so cute. Of course I meant it. I love you so, so much." His eyes sparkle with mirth and the sincerity in his voice makes your heart skip a beat. You capture his lips in a searing kiss, not needing words to tell him how much he means to you and how grateful you are to have someone like him around you. You could kiss those endearingly chapped lips through the night and forever, and just for good measure, you whisper against his lips, "I love you, too."

A/N: I chose 'Max' as Eric's fake name cause it used to be his English name before he went by 'Eric', and I didn't really want his character to expose that he's actually geniusohn either. And I chose the name Rubi's PlayCube for the camshow's name because yknow... Eric's a genius at solving Rubik's cubes? hehe sorry I'm not very creative 😅

Part 3 is over here! (not a direct continuation)

[rovelae]

Behind the Scenes of “Hologram”

           Today marks exactly one year since I posted arguably my most popular fic. “Hologram” is a postgame Saiouma one-shot about escapism, loneliness, and running away from the past. I put a lot of myself into this fic and I’m blown away by all the love it’s received, not only on AO3 but in Discord servers and other social media. All that excitement made me keep thinking about it, so I thought I’d share a (very self-indulgent) behind-the-scenes of sorts about how I wrote it, as well as what I think of the story.

           This essay will contain spoilers for the whole fic, so if you’d like to read it first, you can find it here. Of course, if the tags scare you off, that’s valid, but you might want to skip this post too since I’ll be quoting it throughout (so, just to be safe, expect the warnings I’ve posted on AO3 to apply here too).

           If you’re a Lorde fan you’ll recognize the lyrics in the fic summary – “Nothing’s wrong when nothing’s true,” from “Buzzcut Season.” The inspiration for this fic came to me while I was on my way to an early shift at work, and I needed a good song in my head to give me the will to live for the next eight hours. Not sure why I chose that song in particular, but maybe part of it is because I like imagining stories to go along with the songs I listen to, like AMVs playing in my head, and I’d never been able to pin down exactly what this song reminded me of.

           The mood of the music is really what compelled me – there’s something lonely about it, and the lyrics sound like the singer’s trying to convince herself that everything’s okay even when all evidence points otherwise. There are “explosions on TV”, and “The men up on the news / They try to tell us all that we will lose,” but “we live beside the pool / Where everything is good.” Despite everything going wrong, despite the notes of fear creeping into the pre-chorus, the character will “play along… in a hologram with you” and “never go home again.”

           From there, it was an easy jump to “postgame Saiou” and that was that.

             There’s a cloud of seagulls hovering in the air around him, and a dozen or so more standing just out of reach, staring him down with beady black eyes. Kokichi takes a slice of bread from the loaf he’s holding and tosses it to one of the birds, watches it catch it and stumble under the weight, watches its head bob as it tries to swallow the whole thing at once. It gets remarkably far before four other birds descend on it, shrieking wildly.

           “Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles into his folded arms, wondering if Shuichi would get the reference.

           He really wishes Shuichi was here.

           Kokichi upends the rest of the loaf of bread onto the sidewalk and laughs at the resulting chaos until his chest aches.

             To start off, I wanted to create the same lonely mood from “Buzzcut Season” in Kokichi’s simulation. He’s not exactly trapped there, but he’s refusing to leave, because as long as he’s on the fake Jabberwock Island, he can pretend the killing game never happened. The trade-off to that escapism is that the only people he can talk to are the NPCs, who aren’t complex enough to be remotely interesting to him, and Usami, who… well, tries her best, but is more of an informational / moderation program and can’t offer him what a therapist could.

           The only thing Kokichi has to look forward to is Shuichi, who he’s convinced is an extremely lifelike computer program rather than the real thing, because the real Shuichi would definitely hate him for everything that happened during the killing game. He’s so locked into this line of logic that he doesn’t let himself consider that Shuichi has forgiven him – he doesn’t even have a good answer for why the Future Foundation wouldn’t just keep the supposed Shuichi AI on indefinitely, believing it’s their way of baiting him into leaving the simulation.

           It’s not a healthy or sustainable lifestyle in the slightest, but Kokichi stubbornly refuses to do anything but wander the islands aimlessly, passing the time with ice cream and feeding seagulls until the next time he can see Shuichi.

             He dreams that DICE is here in the simulation with him, smiling and carefree as they explore the weird music venue. One of them has gotten the karaoke machine working, and another found a box of kazoos and maracas in the back room. Kokichi already pities anyone unfortunate enough to walk by the building tonight.

           “Not going to sing, Joker?” one of his DICE asks (over the sound of their youngest member shrieking through seven kazoos at once), sitting on the bench next to him.

           “Some games are more fun to watch than play,” he answers, leaning back on his hands and sighing.

           “Like a killing game.”

           The warm dream-atmosphere turns cold then, and Kokichi’s head snaps over to look at him—but his brother is gone and Kaito’s looking back at him instead, blood in his teeth and face ashen pale.

           “You... we don’t have to do this, man,” Kaito says, but it’s a lie and they both know it, and he doesn’t want to look behind him because he knows the machine’s looming over him with its unyielding steel and slow slow slow descent—

           “You’re not real,” he snaps at dream-Kaito, who doesn’t respond except to lift him up again. “Nothing’s real, none of—PUT ME DOWN! LET GO OF ME! DON’T PUT ME BACK IN THERE!”

           “Death is more mercy than you deserve,” Kaito says, and Kokichi claws and bites and kicks his way out of Kaito’s grasp like a wild animal, only to end up in front of a prison cell full of—

           DICE, his beloved DICE, trapped and hurt and afraid, bloodied and beaten and helpless.

           “Why didn’t you save us, boss?” says his second-in-command, clutching the bars with bleeding hands. “Why didn’t you do more? Now we’re all dead and it’s because of you.”

             Moments like this are my reference to Buzzcut Season’s pre-chorus, where the not-okay starts to creep into the illusion. Despite Kokichi’s valiant efforts to forget, he’s still dealing with the aftermath of seeing his family hurt and in danger, watching his friends die, orchestrating the deaths of two of them, being killed himself— and then being told every bit of it was made up to entertain an audience who sees nothing wrong with that picture. Running away is not the way to heal from trauma, and one day soon it’s all bound to come crashing down around him.

             “Do you know what this … island paradise represents, Kokichi?” [Hinata] asks, and Kokichi’s really not in the mood for a lecture but he continues anyway. “Jabberwock Island … was the setting for the fiftieth season of Danganronpa. The golden anniversary, they called it. It was my season.”

           Kokichi hunches over, hugging his arms over his torso and stifiling a scream. He does not want to think about this right now—

           “They wanted it to be the best season of all, which, unfortunately for us, meant it was also the bloodiest,” Hinata says. “Twice as many participants, deadly traps hidden across each of the islands— they even changed the way the motives worked, like when they told Fuyuhiko to cut out his own eye so Peko could have a quick death instead of suffering for days.”

           “Do I look like your therapist, porcupine-head?” Kokichi hisses. A sharp pain is pounding into his skull, and there’s a bitter, metallic taste at the back of his throat. A taste like poison and blood.

           “There was so much going on that the simulation malfunctioned,” Hinata says. “When people died, their Ultimate talents downloaded themselves into me. I’m told that the stress of so many personality grafts came close to liquefying my frontal lobe. I’m lucky I woke up at all… especially considering more than half of the others didn’t.”

           “Why are you telling me this?” Kokichi grates out through the static building in his head. If he opens his eyes, will he see the beach or the dull chrome of the machine closing in on him?

           “Because I know how much you want to forget about what happened,” Hinata says. “Believe me, I get it.”

           ….

           “These things that happened to us… we can’t erase them, no matter how much we want to. Some things have to be remembered.”

             I’d mostly like to leave Hajime’s season up to interpretation, but there are a couple things I wanted to say about it. I imagine Danganronpa is like the Hunger Games in that it’d go all out for big anniversaries. So, there were twice as many participants for the Jabberwock Island beatdown that was probably subtitled “Bloodbath Bay” or something equally appealing. The game’s formula changed from a focus on the mystery and the trials to “look at all these kids massacring each other a la Lord of the Flies,” and since the VR system wasn’t equipped to handle that many people and their deaths, it malfunctioned, giving Hajime way too many Ultimate talents and putting half the cast into comas from which they never woke up.

           Viewers either absolutely loved or absolutely hated this season, depending on whether they were DR fans because of the “blood n’ guts” factor or the “mystery and psychological thriller” aspect. Team Danganronpa faced quite a bit of backlash for actually causing the real-life deaths of half its participants, but were able to weasel their way out of serious legal repercussions because of the waivers the participants had signed beforehand (plus a lot of bribery and falling back on their longstanding popularity). So, the cast of Season 50 failed to end the killing game, but helped provide great evidence for the “Danganronpa is morally wrong” argument.

           Hajime works as a victim liaison for the Future Foundation and has been trying to take down Danganronpa since he got out of it. He’s like that in a few of my fics, actually; I like the idea of Hajime acting as a big brother of sorts to the V3 cast. It’s especially entertaining to imagine his interactions with Kokichi— though maybe not so much in Hologram, since to Kokichi he’s a representation of the past he’s trying so desperately to forget and the future he refuses to acknowledge.

             “SHUT UP!” He launches himself at Hinata, his hands wrapping around the other man’s throat as he uses his momentum to slam him to the ground. “SHUT! UP!”

           “Ko— ghk—” Hinata coughs, eyes wide with surprise, but aside from moving his hands up to grip Kokichi’s wrists, he doesn’t seem all that worried about fighting back.

           The thought only fuels Kokichi’s rage until he’s choking Hinata so hard his knuckles are white. “If you want me out of this simulation so badly, you can kill me,” he snarls. “I’m never waking up! I’m never leaving, do you UNDERSTAND ME?”

           Hinata grimaces, the outline of his avatar flickering, but he still doesn’t struggle, and Kokichi hates him all the more for it, despises him with a seething malice that festers low in his stomach. He wonders distantly if he’d actually kill this man in real life. Or if he’d be able to stop himself, feeling like this.

             Kokichi’s breakdown here is more out of fear than anger. Like I mentioned, Kokichi sees Hajime as another piece of what’s hurt him, and no matter how Hajime tries to help, Kokichi will always remember Danganronpa whenever he sees him.

             Warm yellow-orange light casts a relaxed, cozy glow over the dining hall. It’s an ambience compounded by the flickering candles on the table, which seems overly idyllic, but Kokichi will let it slide because of the adorable way Shuichi flushed when he noticed them as they sat down. Well, if he’s being honest, everything about Shuichi right now is adorable, from the way his hair keeps falling into his eyes to the way he’s nervously fiddling wth his chopsticks. Kokichi wishes he could keep staring at him forever.

           Ah, not… not in a weird way, though, just… because Shuichi’s beautiful, and when Kokichi looks at him he can forget everything bad that’s ever happened, can create some new and brighter world to exist in.

             This is an idea I wish I’d had room to explore a bit more in the story— that is, just how far Kokichi will go to pretend everything’s fine. I thought about making him border on delusional, like having him talk to people who aren’t there or forget what’s actually happening around him because he’s so lost in his fiction-within-a-fiction. It would have creeped Shuichi out a whole lot.

           Unfortunately, there wasn’t much room for that past the plot I’d already nailed down, so I focused on his loneliness and escapism instead. I do touch on it later in this scene, though— the couple paragraphs where he slips into fantasizing about being a phantom thief having a surreptitious meeting with his detective under the not-so-subtle supervision of his DICE. There would have been a lot more of that if I’d gone with the ‘delusion’ stylistic choice, to the point where even the readers would be confused about what’s real. Maybe I’ll look into writing something similar in a future story.

             Eventually, Shuichi sets down his bowl and looks away with a little sigh, and Kokichi clenches his teeth because that’s the sigh he does when it’s time for that conversation.

           “Um… Kokichi?”

           Kokichi’s only response is to exhale the breath he’d been holding in a quiet hiss.

           “I-I know you don’t want to, but… but I really need to talk to you about something,” Shuichi says. “Please?”

           “My Mr. Detective can talk about whatever he’d like!” Kokichi says with a lilt to his tone that makes it sound more sarcastic than he wants it to. He takes the last bite of curry and wishes that it burns hot enough to hurt.

           “It’s about Kaito.”

             This more serious part of the date scene is meant to reflect the little bridge in “Buzzcut Season”:

“Cola with the burnt-out taste

I’m the one you tell your fears to

There’ll never be enough of us.”

           It’s a part of the song that sounds especially bittersweet to me, a bit of self-awareness between the insistence that everything’s okay.

           Really all I think I managed was to reference it when Kokichi’s internal dialogue comments on his drink being “so sweet it tastes burnt” and then later not tasting like anything. But hopefully the mood’s still there.

             “Tell him… that I have nothing against him,” he says.

           “That’s … not a lie?” Shuichi presses.

           Kokichi shakes his head idly, still not raising his gaze. “I wanted to wreck the killing game and he wanted to save his friend. We both got what we wanted. I’d say the end more than justifies the means.”

           Was that a lie?

           (I don’t want to die Shuichi I’m sorry I’m sorry save me Shuichi please I’m sorry ithurtsmakeitstop—)

           His fingers tighten into clawlike shapes, nails digging sharply into his forearms.

             I really don’t think Kokichi would have anything against Kaito, even if here he’s not being completely honest with how much he’s affected by what happened. It wouldn’t make sense to him to hate Kaito for something he himself proposed, but I think there’d still be a subconscious barrier between them. Too much history.

             “Don’t go, Shuichi, I’m so sorry, I— that was so dumb, what I said, please don’t be sad anymore.” He’s not sure if he can’t breathe because of the exertion of running or because of the hysteria boiling over in his head. “Please don’t go, I didn’t mean to hurt you— please don’t leave, Shuichi, I’m so sorry.”

           “Oh, Kokichi….” Shuichi’s tone is strange, soft and pitying, like he sees something Kokichi doesn’t, and he shakes his head slowly as more tears follow the paths of the others.

           Kokichi goes to his knees, ready to grovel if that’s what it takes, but Shuichi follows him down, closing his other hand over Kokichi’s, and then they’re both crying and he doesn’t know why, and all he can do is repeat a mantra of I’m sorry and hold on as tight as he can.

           It’s horrible. Shuichi’s horrible. Shuichi’s wonderful, and kind and lovely and perfect and Kokichi hates him, Kokichi adores him, and it doesn’t matter because Shuichi’s not actually here but Kokichi doesn’t want to be alone, just let me pretend some more, please, please let me have this—

           “I’ll… I’ll stay,” Shuichi says at last. “I can stay a while longer.”

           You shouldn’t, Kokichi wants to say, but his mouth won’t obey him. You shouldn’t stay if you don’t want to. I don’t deserve having you here. I’m not worth your mercy.

           But there on the bridge, crying tears of relief, he soaks up as much mercy as he can get and hopes it’s enough to drown him.

             I wanted to create a contrast between them that highlights just how the isolation and trauma Kokichi��s experiencing has affected him. He has an almost unhealthy reliance on Shuichi as “the only thing that makes this world bearable,” and panics when faced with the prospect of being alone again so soon. Part of why Shuichi’s crying is because he’s realized the extent of Kokichi’s desperation. It’s not that he thinks Kokichi’s apology is insincere, but that he’s hardly heard him apologize for anything before, so Kokichi going this far has him realizing how bad things really are.

             The door rumbles and slides open when they approach, revealing the bright light of the log-out point that took Shuichi away every time, that would wake Kokichi up in his real body if he walked into it. Shuichi stops just a step away from it, biting his lip as if searching for something to say, but before he can find it, Kokichi reaches out to tug at his sleeve.

           “Shuichi?” he says, distant as the waves on the beach that he can still hear if he listens closely enough. Shuichi turns back toward him. “Before you go, can I be selfish one more time?”

           “Huh…?”

           Shuichi doesn’t move when Kokichi steps closer, reaches up to ghost his fingertips over Shuichi’s jaw and around the back of his neck. He lets Kokichi tilt his head downward, lets him hover inches away, close enough to feel their breath mingle in the night air. Kokichi pauses there to give him the chance to pull away. He doesn’t.

           So Kokichi closes his eyes and the distance between them.

             That last line is a ZEUGMA! It’s a literary device where one word refers to two more in a different way. A popular example is the hyenas’ line “Our teeth and ambitions are bared” from The Lion King. It’s my favorite grammatical trick and I’d love to see more of it in fanfic.

             Slowly, he slides his hand down to Shuichi’s shoulder, using it as leverage to push himself away. That hurts even more. He can’t seem to open his eyes, and he feels so weakened, breathless, fragile. Cracked open, hollowed out.

           When he finally does open his eyes, Shuichi’s are wide with some mix of astonishment and a dozen other emotions. Kokichi bows his head, taking a deep breath to ground himself. “Sorry,” he whispers. “I just wanted to know.”

           “Kokichi,” Shuichi breathes, like a bullet through his heart.

           “Goodbye, Shuichi,” Kokichi says, and shoves him into the light.

           Shuichi’s little yelp of surprise cuts off abruptly as he falls through the door, vanishing into the glow, and all too soon, Kokichi’s alone again in a dream that suddenly seems far too vast. Alone, with the faintest taste of Shuichi’s lips still lingering on his own.

           And he thinks, It was enough just to know you.

           It’s a lie.

             Nothing to say here except that this is my favorite scene and I’m so happy with how it turned out.

             Fake sun rises over fake ocean, fake seagulls glide through fake sky while fake wind tousles fake palm fronds. Kokichi lies on his stomach in the fake grass and talks to his fake family in the fake notebook. Gives them fake names and runs through everything he remembers about them. Apologizes, over and over, wishes he could hug each of them goodbye one last time. Wonders if it would be more painful to die or to never have existed at all.

           He leaves the notebook of his memories on the seat of one of the Ferris wheel cars on the fourth island, because one time he promised them they’d steal the London Eye together.

           He buys a can of fake soda from the fake convenience store on the first island and sits on the fake beach watching the fake waves. Wonders when he’d hit the end of the simulation if he started swimming, or if he’d drown first.

           White sand, blue sea, bluer sky. Washed out, like an amateur watercolor painting.

           He opens the soda can and raises it to his mouth, but … even the thought of drinking it makes him sick to his stomach. He sets it down in the sand and flicks it over, watching the bubbly liquid run down and sink into the sand. The color’s all wrong, like blood streaked against a metal floor.

           He walks the fake streets of the fifth island, passing fake skyscrapers and fake commuters and their fake conversations, until he finally stops outside the factory he’s never been able to bring himself to go into. Smells like oil, and metal and machines and he can hear the sounds and he’s immediately back in the hangar, dizzy on adrenaline and desperation and leaning heavily on Kaito so he doesn’t keel over and die then and there. Kaito says something about how maybe he should sit down for a minute, and Kokichi didn’t agree back then but he does now, goes down on all fours and dry heaves.

           When his vision solidifies and he can stop gasping for breath, he sits up and presses his back against the factory wall, covering his ears and hiding his face in his knees. Tries to convince himself not to imagine Shuichi’s there with him, holding his hand again, promising everything’s going to be okay.

           “I’ve got you. No one’s going to hurt you anymore,” or maybe, “Breathe with me, it’ll be over soon. You’re safe now.”

           I love you.

           He laughs until there’s nothing left in his lungs. He called these little daydreams obsession, before, but now they just seem sick and insane.

             I wanted to indicate throughout this scene that Kokichi’s gotten substantially worse. Instead of halfheartedly interacting with the NPCs or finding something to spend time doing, he’s aimlessly wandering the islands, focused on how fake all of it is. Not even talking to his sketches of DICE can make him feel better. The suicidal ideation starts to slip in even if he doesn’t realize it— a fixation on wondering what death is like, purposefully triggering himself by walking by the factory….

           The thing I want to talk about most though is the italicized I love you. I left it outside of quotation marks and dialogue tags on purpose because I wanted it to be ambiguous as to who’s saying it. If it’s Kokichi’s line, it’s sudden and almost out of place, like he couldn’t hold back from thinking it anymore. But it could be Shuichi saying it, too. Since it’s outside quotation marks, unlike the previous dream-Shuichi lines, it’s more vague, almost a whisper in Kokichi’s thoughts— like he can barely bring himself to imagine it and even feels guilty doing so, because there’s no way it could possibly be real.

           Which do you think?

           Eh, I don’t have an answer. When I hear it in my head, they say it at the same time.

             “How did you know?” he finally croaks.

           Shuichi’s breathing still sounds shaky, too. “Because you said ‘goodbye,’” he says.

           Kokichi finally looks up at him in a silent question.

           “You never say goodbye,” Shuichi says, rubbing his sleeve over his eyes. “It’s always….”

           “‘See you later,’” Kokichi finishes for him. Despite himself, a tiny huff of astonished laughter escapes him. “I didn’t even know, not until a couple of hours ago. And you figured it all out from one word?”

           Shuichi bites his lip at that. “You kissed me,” he says.

           Kokichi’s stomach twists and he looks away. “I said I was sorry—”

           “No.” Shuichi squeezes his hand into a fist and lets it fall to thump against Kokichi’s chest, like he’s trying to knock some sense into him. “It was so honest, and vulnerable, and… and I know how much you hate showing how you really feel.” Another tiny sob catches in his throat. “And so it felt like … like something you’d do if you weren’t going to s-see me again.”

           “Shuichi….” Kokichi trails off as Shuichi muffles his cries in his hand again. He’s so breathtakingly smart. There’s no one else in the world who thinks that way, no one else who could possibly be that attentive and that clever. Not a programmer, not a team of shrinks… how can an AI manage it? How is it that Shuichi always manages to take him by surprise? How can he see straight through him when he least expects it?

           Kokichi’s hand reaches up to Shuichi’s cheek. Reverently traces the path of the tears falling down it.

           “I wish you were real,” he confesses in a whisper.

             Kokichi’s stubborn. So, so stubborn. And he’s not used to being cared about, if the way he does everything by himself is any indication. So it makes sense to me that he’ll refuse to believe anything good can happen to him even in the face of convincing evidence. He’s pretty self-hating for someone so arrogant.

             Kokichi’s weak, deep down to his core, weak for this man. Already knows he’d do anything for him, and the thought is terrifying—that one person could have that much power over him, even if he doesn’t realize it.

           But what if he has realized it? Couldn’t this all be an elaborate ruse, a lie he knew Kokichi would be so desperate to believe that he wouldn’t bother questioning it?

           …Shuichi’s never hurt him, though. Only that one time, when he really deserved it. Shuichi wouldn’t … betray him, even for what he thinks is Kokichi’s own good. They’re… different from each other, that way.

           But still….

           “I’m so scared, Shuichi.” It’s barely a whisper. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

           “You won’t be.” It’s so hard to be skeptical, lost in his eyes. “I’ll be right there with you, for as long as you want. I won’t let you feel like this anymore.”

           Promise me, he wants to blurt out. Promise you’ll stay. Promise me you’ll never leave me, Shuichi, he wants to demand, but that’s wrong, that’s manipulative and selfish and everything he doesn’t want to be for Shuichi anymore.

           Shuichi, of course, says it anyway.

           “I promise, Kokichi.”

…        

           “Kiss me again,” he says. “Please?”

           Shuichi leans in close, then pauses, his brow furrowing the way it does when he catches him in a lie.

           “I’ll kiss you again in the real world,” Shuichi says. “Okay?”

           Kokichi shakes his head. “Shuichi, please.” Please, I don’t think I can do this. Please, I don’t want to wake up to a lie. Please, one last kiss for me to remember in case it was all fake.

           Shuichi reaches out to tilt his chin up and Kokichi closes his eyes, savoring every second, burning it into his memory.

           Shuichi’s soft breath ghosts over his lips.

           “Trust me,” he murmurs.        

           Kokichi’s eyes flutter back open, searching his face. Shifting him around on the white board in his head, seeing what categories he fits into this time. Weird, of course. Suspicious, maybe not. Trustworthy?

           Trustworthy….

           “I do trust you,” he realizes.

             Kokichi’s still hesitant to accept all of this— Shuichi kissing him didn’t magically fix everything. He’ll still doubt all the way to the log-out point, but at least now he realizes that this simulation is only hurting him— that if things are to get better they’re going to have to change, too. He’s got a long way to go before he’s all right, but he’s not going to have to face it alone anymore.

             And that’s a wrap!

           Once again, I’m really proud of this story, and I feel like I grew as a writer because of it. There are a few things I would change if I wrote it again, but for all its flaws it’s still my baby and I like how it turned out.

           Thanks again for all your support for “Hologram,” and thanks even more if you actually waded through all this nonsense of a director’s cut. It’s a huge confidence-boost to think that people liked what I wrote, and even wanted to hear what I had to say about it. If there’s any interest, I’d love to review some of my other fics here, or theorize or brainstorm or whatever else  you’re into. (Ask me what Byakuya’s Thing is in my superhero AU, I dare you 😉)

           I do have a WIP in my folder of bits and pieces currently titled “boy finally gets that kiss”, and it’s a post-Hologram scene from Shuichi’s point of view to just sorta… tie it all together, have them talk things over again… and kiss, of course. We’ll see if anything comes out of that.

           Until next time!

[tanakavox]

here guys. This reaction was done @bssaz97 again. And that's it for the author's note.

"I miss baby Zwei!" Weiss sulked.

"We know Weiss, you've been saying that for the past ten minutes," Blake's vein appeared on her head.

"Why can't we see more of him! He was so cute and innocent!" Weiss crosses her arms and huffs..

"He spent the entire time antagonizing me!" Jaune replied.

"He can never do wrong." Weiss cemented in her mind.

"Forget it VB, she's a lost cause." Yang told her fellow blonde.

"Well let's see what this next viewing has in store for us all." Ren calmly stated.

The screen shows Jaune on Planet Namek facepalming.

"Urgh, what was that idiot DOING bringing me here!" He mutters before turning to look around his eyes widening. "It's... Wait a minute, I can feel it... This is my home! I can finally see its beauty! The lush blue fields, the crystal clear waters, the wind brushing past my... GOD, THIS IS BORING!" He yelled out before groaning. "No wonder I feel at home."

"We're back to Namek!" Ruby shouted in excitement.

"And there's alien Jaune-Jaune!" Nora jumped in.

"Wait isn't this the world where Cinder is supposed to be really powerful?" Jaune asked.

"...oh crud/shit." Many of the original audience replied. Those who were new to the theater didn't exactly understand what they meant but supposed they would eventually see why.

The scene cuts to Cinder confronting Mercury, Oscar, Neptune, and Trifa

"Oh hell yeah! Emerald wake up, we're back in the world where I'm a badass prince!" Mercury says as he shakes her shoulder.

Emerald loudly snores.

"Hey! You said to wake you when 'the snooze fest' was over."

"Not… interested." Emerald conveniently snored.

"Emerald, you will watch this viewing." Cinder orders.

"Yes Cinder!" Emerald miraculously much more awake.

"Wooow." Mercury drawls, shaking his head in genuine disappointment.

"Shut it!" Emerald hissed.

Cinder smiles coldly at them. "Well, Mercury. You've finally pulled it off. You've managed to dash my hopes entirely. With some help, I see." she turns to look at the rest of the group.

"Quack!"

"Neptune, seriously, not helping!" Oscar said ebowing him.

"I can try."

"I'm very curious. Where exactly are you from?" Cinder asks calmly.

"Don't you snitch!" Nora shouted at the screen.

"We're from rem-" Neptune started before Oscar stopped him.

"Neptune, no!"

"Oh right... Thanks for stopping me, Oscar. 'Cause I can't shut-."

"They're from Remnant." Trifa deadpanned.

"Traitor!" Ruby glared at the girl on the screen. Her anger was shared by many in the audience. Whether good or bad.

Blake was feeling the same amount of betrayal twice after remembering how Trifa was one of Ada-his agents sent to kidnap her in the past.

" Little bow girl, why?!" Neptune shouted out in disbelief.

"Because my name is Trifa."

Nora huffed, "Well maybe your name should little bi-!"

"Nora please." Ren asked his oldest friend and companion to let it go.

"'Sigh.' Fine, but I'm still mad." Nora said.

"Oh good. I'll stop by there on the way home. Pick up some space eggs, some space milk, and BLOW IT THE F**K UP!" Cinder screamed at them before calming here. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm usually far more composed. I'm just a little bit ABSOLUTELY LIVID." She said with barely contained rage.

"Oh, Cinder. Quit being such a bitch. I lost my chance at immortality too and you don't see me crying about it." Mercury said mocking with a smirk.

"Yep. Sucks to suck!" Yang stayed for both Cinder's in the audience and on screen.

"Care to say that to my face." Cinder stood up.

"Whoa now One Eye Cinder. We can't fight here, remember, so I can say whatever I like and there's nothing you can do to stop me." Yang explains with a toothy grin.

Cinder growls, but reluctantly sat back down as she began to curse this theater's damned rules.

"Yes, Mercury. But you see, the difference between us is I'll live long enough to regret it." Cinder charges at Mercury and engages him in battle with a battle cry.

Scene cuts to Jaune flying through the sky

"Hey we were getting to the good part!" Mercury shouted.

"And what part would that exactly be Mercury?" Cinder asked directly.

"The fight scene, what else." He said nonchalantly.

Cinder stared at him for a moment before looking back at the screen. Mercury was one of the few people that she could tolerate back talking to her so she paid it no mind.

"Everything looks the goddamn same on this goddamn planet!" He thinks and sighs before he sees something on the ground. "Wait a minute, a body! SOCIAL ACTIVITY!" Jaune yells as he yells flying down and landing next to a body, which was Hazel. "Please tell me you're not dead!"

Hazel begins to speaks in Namekian/Klingon

"What the hell is he saying?" Coco asked.

"It appears he is attempting to communicate with Mr. Arc's alternate in their native tongue." Ozpin rationalized.

"Do you know what he's saying Jaune?" Velvet asked.

"Velvet, I think Ozpin means-."

Velvet giggles before she starts laughing. Her team along with his shortly after.

Jaune was staring at them confusedly before his eyes widened in realization. He chuckled while rolling his eyes, "Oh haha, very funny Velvet."

Ruby just stared at the exchange expressionless, the joke was funny but for some reason she didn't want to laugh. Weird.

"Ah, crap. I find the only living thing for miles- and he's so broken he can't even talk right."

" I was speaking Namekian, you idiot. Don't you know anything about your own people?" Hazel gasps out, barely holding on to life.

"Well, we're demons, right?" Jaune asks hopefully.

"Eh, more like slug people."

"Ah, dammit! I liked it better when I was a demon."

"And I liked it better when I had proper bladder control. Nobody's perfect."

"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask about that. What happened?"

"Let's just say our world elder's kind of a giant green asshole."

Jaune and many of the other male audience members bowed their heads in silence for loss bestowed on the Namekian people.

"Yeesh! Port's a bit of a dick in this one… or lack thereof," Yang quipped.

"YANG!"

"Too soon?" Yang winced.

"Preachin' to the choir on that one." Jaune agreed, an image of Ozpin showing in his head. "Well, it's been fun, but I have to go DIE again…" He turns to leave.

Jaune mentally groaned as he remembered that in this world his life was the one entwined with Ozpin. Also he no more thrilled about the prospect of seeing his alternate die (again?) in a way that could've been easily avoided.

"Dang Arc, you're a bit sassy in this world, huh?" Coco asked.

"And green with antennas." Velvet whispered to Fox.

"Ahhh," Fox nodded, getting a clue of what the counterpart looked like.

"Wait. I might be able to help you." gasped out Hazel.

"Look, buddy. If you want to add me on MySpace, I switched to Spacebook a while ago." Jaune turns to left again.

"What's MySpace?" Oscar asked.

"Beats me, but it sounds mega old." Yang commented.

Ozpin, Glynda, Qrow and even Winter winced at Yang's unintentional jab at them. All of them who used to own MySpace accounts.

Salem just looked confused at the mention of these names. 'What's a MySpace and Spacebook? Is it a form of communication?' She thought to herself.

"No, no, no, no. Listen. I think I know something that might work out for both of us. I don't wanna die and you seem pretty lonely."

"DESPERA-, I mean, go on."Jaune said, getting yells before switching back to a normal tone.

"There's a special ability our people share. Forbidden, even amongst our most sacred clans."

"And we're just going to abuse it?" Jaune asked

"Oh, maliciously!" Hazel said with a grin.

"Bitchin'! How we do?"

"Well that didn't take much convincing at all." Emerald said, impressed by how quickly it took the dying Hazel to convince Arc to comment on what was probably the Namekians form of the Black Arts.

"Hey Jaune-Jaune needs all the power he can get if he wants to kick Cinder's butt!" Nora shot back. "Yeah!" Ruby echoed Nora's sentiment.

"Well, first you put your hand upon me."

" 'Kay" He places his hand on Hazel's elbow)

"Yes. Like that. Now lower."

"Uh-huh."

"Lower."

"Hmm…"

"Little lower."

"Hmm..".

"Ah! If we had junk, you'd be gay right now." Jaune groans as Hazel smirks at him. "Fusing!"

"Gods Dammit!" Jaune facepalmed. He couldn't believe how his alternate would fall for such an obvious trick…. though to be honest he probably would have fallen for it all the same.

Jaune fuses with Hazel, a bright light blinding the viewers. After it's disappears, Jaune only is there and he looks at his hands in wonder.

"Wow. Unreal. My gosh. This is amazing! I feel INCREDIBLE!" He then begins to chant Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! I can win! I feel great! I-can-do-this! HAAA…"

Hazel's voice from inside is heard inside Jaune's head. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"Nothing." Jaune replies after stammering a bit.

"Really? 'Cause it looked like you were chanting to yourself."

"Are you in my head?" Jaune ask changing the subject.

"Yup. Don't worry; supposedly I should fade away into your subconscious. Sooner or later."

"Is this what it was like for you?" Jaune asked Oscar.

"Pretty much." Oscar deadpanned

"...Wow, that's really weird." Jaune slumped in his chair.

"Yep. Well, you kinda get used to it after a while." Oscar replied.

"Does it?" Jaune asked him seriously.

"...No." Oscar slumped into his chair as well.

'If I could have carried this burden in my original body for all these millennia and spared you, I would have… no one deserves this burden.' Ozpin told himself in his mind. He determined it would fix nothing if he told them that, there was no changing the past.

"Okay. So, what now?"

"By my estimate, this fusion should have given you just enough power to wipe out the bitch who killed our people."

"And?"

"Well, let me put this in terms you'll understand: You can win! You feel great! You-can-do-this!" Hazel said, repeating Jaune's chant.

"Oh, ha-ha!"

"Yeah go Jaune/Fearless Leader!" Ruby and Nora both cheered.

Jaune's face turned beet red, but he did appreciate their show of support.

The scene cuts to Mercury and Cinder in a brawler lock

"Impudent... little…" Cinder hissed. Her scouter shows "F**K THIS I'M OUT" before exploding on her face, Cinder grunting in pain.

"Damn, Mercury must actually be pretty strong to make that device off itself," Yang stated.

"Why do you sound so surprised blondie? Still sore about our match up?" Mercury quipped.

"You are so lucky I can't mop the floor with your face." Yang shot back, her eyes flashing crimson.

Mercury and Cinder both back off, producing a small crater due to their power.

"I'm impressed, Mercury. When did you graduate from pull-ups?" Cinder said mocking.

"About the same time you got off the rag." Mercury fired back.

Cinder smirks a bit. "Cute. But bear no false hopes, Mercury. You're a mere paper tiger in front of a storm. You have no idea what true power I possess."

"It's that you can transform, right?"

"I can transform…" Cinder's face's falls. "Okay, when and how?"

"Guldo told me."

A flashback of a conversation between Mercury and Guldo appears

"So... Did you know that Cinder can transform?" Guldo said.

"Huh. That right?" Mercury said disinterested.

"Yeah. And Burter's gay."

"Really!?" Mercury asked, genuinely surprised

(back to present)

"And then I threw a dog treat at him. True story."

"That's so rude!" said the collective voices of Ruby, Weiss, Velvet, and Fiona.

"Oh cry me a river, I lost my conscience long ago." Mercury replied back.

"Right. But if you are so aware, why do you persist in goading me?" Cinder question raising an eyebrow.

Mercury grinned viciously."Because Cinder. You're not dealing with the average Saiyan warrior anymore. I am a Super Saiyan!"

….

"A what?" Oscar asked.

Cinder rolls her eyes at this apparently hearing this before. "Oh, here we go!"

"That's right, Cinder. I've arisen beyond the limits of a normal Saiyan, and into the realm of legend- the legend that you fear. The legend known throughout the entire universe as the most powerful warrior to ever exist!" Cinder starts speaking faintly at this point alongside him. "I, Prince Mercury, have become a..". Cinder cuts him off

"...Super Saiyan. Blah, blah, blah, blah, I get it. Then you slayed the Jabberwocky and went on to save Narnia." She clearly wasn't taking him seriously.

"Wow! This Super Saiyan sounds awesome!" Yang concluded. Her sister as well as Jaune, Nora, Oscar and Ren. What? He could like things.

"Thanks for the praise Blondie." Mercury said.

"Yeah something tells me your alternate is way too overestimating himself." Emerald stated.

"You're just jealous you're not a Super Saiyan." Mercury shot back, unfazed by her earlier remark. Causing Emerald to roll her eyes.

While the name seemed silly to the more mature members of the audience, they too were intrigued by the tale of this being.

"Go ahead and mock me, Cinder, but I'm not afraid of you. So why don't you doll yourself up and get ready for a night on the town, because I'm about to take you to a ballroom blitz."

"Fine. I'll indulge you, Mr. Super Saiyan. But before I do I have a funny little story I'd like to tell you."

"Funny how?"

"I like to call it, "I killed your dad"."

"...Was that supposed to shock me?" Mercury questioned.

Mercury stares at Cinder blankly. "So "ha-ha" funny."

"You see, thanks to a rogue lower-class warrior, your father caught wind of my plans…"

(flashback to planet Mercury)

A saiyan runs up to What seemed to be Marcus Black

"King Mercury, I have urgent news!"

"Speak, Butarega." King Marcus/Mercury said in a booming tone.

'Wait why does the old bastard have my name? Eh, guess it doesn't matter. Wait, does that make me a junior?!' Mercury thought.

"Well well, looks like I should call you Junior now. Huh?" Emerald comments, her smirk showing she greatly appreciated this new knowledge.

"I'm not a junior!" Mercury yelled.

"What's that? Couldn't hear you Junior!" Yang joins in on the teasing.

"I'm gonna get back at you both. Just you wait." Mercury growled. Hating how the tables have turned on him.

"Bardock has gone absolutely mad, sire!"

Off-screen someone screamed out: "Cinderrrr!"

"What's all the commotion about?" King Marcus/Mercury asked.

"He's been telling everyone that Cinder plans to destroy Mercury!"

"Wait, my son, the planet, or me?"

BUTAREGA looks at the king for a few moments before answering " ...Yes."

King Marcus/Mercury blasts Butarega away.

"Oh my gods!" Ruby cried out.

She and many others in the audience were shocked that the Saiyan King just killed his subordinate so callously. However, both Salem and Cinder were impressed at the King's show of force.

"Freakin' smartass." King Marcus/Mercury mutters and goes look a the Counselor. "Counselor Obleck, what do you think?"

"Let me tell you what you need to do. You need to sit him down…" Oobleck began.

"Uh-huh." King Marcus/Mercury said nodding his head.

"...you look her dead in the eye…"

"Yes."

" ...and you say, "Don't blow up my planet.""

"What? He can't be serious." Winter remarked.

"It appears that this version of Bart is not as wise or tactful as he is in our world." Ozpin rationalized.

Teams RWBY and JNR pressed 'X' to doubt.

"And you think that will work?" King Marcus/Mercury asked.

"she'd have to be aaaaaaawfully evil if it didn't. And I'm not gonna lie, I like the cut of her jib." Oobleck said with a grin.

"All right, but I want you to take my son, the Prince, off-planet just in case things go south."

"Don't worry, sir. You'll do juuuuuust fine."

"Wait. Hold on a damn minute, the old bastard actually cares about someone other than himself? Yeah like that's legit." Mercury crosses his arms.

Some in the audience looked at the silver haired assassin and just for a moment, they felt sympathy for him.

shifts to King Mercury approaching Cinder,.

"Cinder, can I sit down and have a word with-" King Marcus/Mercury said before Cinder interpreted him.

"SHORYUKEN!" Cinder yelled out, uppercutting King Marcus/Mercury in the jaw, causing the latter to fall back while producing with an echoing scream.

"K.O.! YOU WIN!" A voice yelled out.

"Yatta." Cinder whisper out looking at the king's dead body with grin

"Seems negotiations didn't go as he was expecting." Cinder floated to herself. What she didn't notice was that Mercury had stared at her after that statement was said.

He wasn't sure why but hearing her gloat about killing his dad made him feel… odd. It's probably the popcorn he was eating. Nothing more.

(back to present)

"And then I blew the planet up. The end."

Mercury stares at Cinder confused. "How did you know about the parts you weren't there for?"

Cinder gives a blank stare at Mercury and then proceeds to transform.

"Wow, nice comeback Cinder. Really showed him." Jaune said.

Cinder chose to ignore the blonde fool, she didn't dare waste the energy to acknowledge him.

"Nep, do you feel that?" Oscar asked with a fearful look as Cinder's power grew as her body.

"I taste that!" Neptune screamed a look as fear on his face as well.

Cinder finishes transforming into his second form, a Bigger bulkier form.

"Whoa! She's huge! Like that Hazel guy from Haven!" Nora shouted.

"She sure is..." Emerald didn't know how to feel about this new form of Cinder's. It looked too bulky and tall.

"She kinda looks like a bull with those horns." Ruby noted.

"All done." Cinder smiles a bit looking at all of them satisfied. "And judging by the expression on your face, so are you."

"What...? How?" The usual cockiness in his voice was gone.

"Let's be practical and put a number to that feeling, shall we? Last time I clocked this form it was at... one million." Cinder's smile only grows widener.

The audience didn't know what she meant by that but they determined that it must've meant that she was terrifyingly strong.

Cinder loved it, if only she could feel what that power was like. She might even get drunk from it.

"You're lying!"

"Am I? Am I really?" Cinder sarcastically said, raises her hand and explodes the island that everyone is currently standing on, making an explosion so big that it can be seen from the planet. Cinder is shown standing on what's left of the island.

"Whoa!" Fiona and CVY cried out. This being their first time seeing a destructive force of this magnitude. Whitley also sweat dropped, while he had been pleased with how powerful he was in one of the previous worlds. This was an entirely different kind of power than he thought was ever possible.

"Not impressed!" Mercury yelled off screen. "I can do that, too!"

"Neptune, are you okay?" Oscar asks flying above the destroyed island.

"Yeah, and I've got a Little bow girl right here!" Neptune replied with a grin holding Trifa closely.

Cinder begans sings to. " Peaceful young races with fires on their houses

Millions of voices all silenced like mouses

Watching the cowards bow toward their new king

These are a few of my favorite things "

"Oh great she's singing now, as if this Cinder wasn't terrifying enough." Oscar said while clinging to his seat in fear.

"Is it just me, or is she singing to herself?" Neptune asks but is cut off by Cinder charging at him and impaling him with one of her horns, causing Neptune to drop Trifa.

(Neptune Owned Count: 15)

Neptune screams in pain.

"Oh no!" Ruby cried out. But immediately was off put by the showed counter on the screen.

Some in the audience giggled at the sight of the counter, even if they knew it was wrong.

"Neptune!" Oscar screamed out.

"Well, he's dead." Mercury deadpanned in his head.

"This is... the worst... pai-i-i-in!" Neptune said through gritted his teeth.

"Really? Sure it isn't this?" She looks up and starts shifting her head up and down." Or this? Or this? Or this? Or this? (Neptune Owned Count: 16-21, with two 1Ups coming up in the last two ones)

"Neptune, stop! You're making him stronger!" Oscar pleaded.

"I-can't-help-it!" Neptune screamed.

(Neptune Owned Count: 22-25)

At this point most of the audience were laughing. It was a horribly dark joke, but the presentation was spot on and too hilarious. The huntsmen and huntresses that knew the blue haired boy felt very guilty, but they couldn't stop laughing.

"One down!" Cinder throws Neptune off her horn and towards the lake. "Ah, I think impalement is my favorite way to kill a person."

Oscar begans to shake with rage. "You condescending... sadistic... callous... MOTHERF**KER!"

"Pardon?" Cinder ask with a raised eyebrow but then Oscar attacks Cinder by kicking and punching her in the face before knocking her upward with an uppercut and finally kicks her towards the ground. Oscar then starts charging up an energy blast.

"WHOO! Go Cute Boy Oscar! Woo-woo-woo!" Nora cheered on her newest teammate. His other friends joined in cheering for Oscar's alternate.

Oscar was deeply embarrassed but also very ecstatic that he was able to keep up with the frightening tyrant.

"Oscar SMASH EFFEMINATE ALIEN! Oscar STRONGEST THERE IS!" Oscar thought to himself.

Oscar launches a ki blast directly at Cinder, causing a massive explosion. Oscar is then seen in midair catching his breath. Cinder is seen lying face down on the ground, covered in sand from Oscar's assault.

"Ten points for team ALPN!" Nora cheered.

"Yeah, how's that feel, Cinder?" Mercury yelled out. "Now if you can, why don't you pick your sorry ass up and take on a REAL Saiyan…" Mercury's voice trails off as Cinder is seen getting up with a annoyed look.

"Huh. That happened." She muttered before turning to Mercury. "Mercury, mind sitting right there for just a moment, I need to go play babysitter."

"Oh crap, abort Oscar! Abort!" Jaune called out.

"Think! What would Dad do in this situation?" Oscar began to think to himself in a panic.

A flashback of Sun wearing a backpack showed up.

"Bye, son!" Sun said in the flashback in a big dopey smile.

"Damn it Sun." Blake facepalmed.

"Wow, my other self has some issues." Oscar realizes.

(back to present)

"I'm beginning to think I have issues…" Oscar thought to himself when he got punched by Cinder and hit the ground. He tries to get up, but gets crushed by Cinder's foot.

Cinder turns to grin at the Silver haired man. "So, Mercury. Does this get you angry?"

"It's getting ME angry!" Nora shouts at the screen. Her team, RWBY, Qrow, Ozpin and Winter show the same hostility towards the Cinder in the screen.

Mercury shrugs. "Not really. Kind of a smartass."

Cinder frowns "Well then, why am I even bothering?"

"Because you get off on it?" Mercury said hetaintly.

Cinder grins viciously. "Oh, unbelievably... Huh?" Cinder moves to dodges a disc but her tail gets cut off. She turns to glare at culprit.

"Alright, who has the balls?!" She screams out.

Camera zooms on to Neptune, who is the one responsible for cutting off Cinder's tail. Neptune then turns around and starts repeatedly spanking his butt.

"Kiss my ass, bitch! I'm immortal!"

Cinder growls angrily and flies after Neptune.

"Whoa! Neptune's back up already? I thought he was out for the count!" Yang confused. Happy that he lived but still confused as to how he was back in good shape.

Neptune imitates Curly's whooping sounds while flying away and screams: "Suuuck myy diiii…"

The shifts to Mercury thinking to himself. "How the hell did he get up? Oh, my God, I swear if he used that wish of immortality on himself, I am going to murd... " He stops himself and opens his mouth in shock. And speaks out loud after a short pause. "That... bastard."

"Hahaha-ha-ha! You can't kill an immortal!" Emerald laughed.

"Why are you laughing? Weren't you cheering for Cinder?" Mercury implies.

"I am but I'm also cheering against you." Emerald explains.

"You're despicable, you know that right?" Mercury deadpanned.

The scene shifts to Trifa healing Oscar "Come on... You can't leave me alone here; you're the only one I can talk to!" She mutters to herself.

Oscar eyes open, regaining consciousness."I... you... healed me."

"You are the only one I respect."

"Then why did you heal Neptune?"

"The better question is: why did I tell him he was immortal?"

"Ok where is this girl in real life, I'm starting to like her style." Emerald comments.

"I'm starting to not like this Bow Girl." Weiss concludes.

"Yeah that was kinda mean." Ruby adds.

"But it did give him a helluva confidence boost." Yang points out.

The audience reluctantly agrees with Yang.

Neptune flies back to the battlefield with a huge grin. "Holy crap! Thank God I'm immortal!"

"Actually, I healed you, you idiot!" Trifa said off-screen.

"Wait, so I could have died back there?" Neptune realized with his eyes widing.

"After all that you're just going to tear him down like that!" Weiss shouted.

"Yeah, and unlike the runt and I, you don't get a power boost from it." Mercury replied.

"Hax! I call hax!" Neptune whined.

The audience agreed with Screen Neptune.

"How did you escape?" Oscar asked.

"Oh, it was awesome!" See, She was gaining on me there for a minute, but then I managed to lose her in some crevices, but she kept cutting me off at every pass."

"She didn't just blow it up?" Mercury pointed out?"

"Thought the same thing, but no! So I thought fast and I used the Solar Flare on her!"

"And then you used your Kienzan to cut her in half?" Oscar asked gleefully

"Um…"

Cinder flies back to the battlefield, angrily and screams at them. "I WILL MOUNT YOUR HEAD WHERE MY TAIL USED TO BE!"

"To answer your question, Oscar. No, I did not do that." Neptune muttered.

"Damn seriously? He could have finished her off so easily, it was literally in his grasp." Coco shakes her head.

"Douse this bitch!" Mercury yelled.

Mercury, Oscar, and Neptune fire a barrage of energy blasts at Cinder, covering her in smoke.

"Did we get her?" Neptune asked

"Neptune, we can feel her energy. Why do you bother asking?" Oscar asked back annoyed.

"I'm an optimist."

"You're an idiot." Mercury said, glaring at him.

"You're both wrong. You're dead." Cinder said as the smoke cleared and is shown to be unfazed by the blasts.

"You know what? I'm sick of this." Oscar said, his face hardening. "If I'm gonna die, then I'm gonna go out the same way Jaune would!" He moves in to attack Cinder head-on.

"Oscar, no!" Neptune goes to fly after Oscar.

"No! What are you doing?! Don't go out like my other self!" Jaune shouted clutching his head.

RWBY, ALPN, and Ozpin were clouded in worry.

" No, goddamn it!" Mercury also flies after Oscar when a new figure surrounded by light appears in front of the trio. The light clears, and the figure is revealed to be Jaune.

"M... Mr. Jaune!" Oscar cried out.

"Yes! Fearless Leader is here for the rescue!" Nora cheered.

The Jaune in the audience let out a sigh of relief.

"Well, well, well! I'm legitimately surprised I missed one of you." Cinder smiles a bit. "But that's just fine because I've been working on some jokes. Now tell me if you've heard this one: How many Namekians does it take to-" She gets sent flying by a punch from Jaune.

"Just one." Jaune said stoically.

"GO JAUNE GO!" Ruby screamed.

Most of the audience looked towards her from her outburst, including Jaune who was staring wide eyed at her.

"Er, you know. Smash Tyrant Cinder's no good face." She attempts to save face, throwing out air punches to diffuse the situation.

"...Yeah!" Nora shouted.

[op-peccatori]

Hopefully, Yours (part 2) | MLQC Victor

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Victor/Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature 

Word Count: 8326

Summary: It took some cake, a friend, and some impulsive behaviour, but they got there. (part 2 of Hopefully, Yours)

Warnings/Tags: making out, language, my cheeseball antics

a/n: I was afraid of opening this doc at one point because every time I did I added more words to it ;; Also accidentally deleted the first draft, so I hope I didn’t leave anything out for this one. 

[video]

After Hours | Victor and Y/n

200, 280 views • Feb 8th, 2020

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JTV ✓

1.19M subscribers 

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5100 comments

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somsom 5 minutes ago

They’re both so nice. Victor’s always made out to be this heartless CEO, so it’s nice to see this side of him :) 

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tooktiktook  7 minutes ago

hmmmMMM

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cheribb 15 minutes ago

their eyes said more than enough <3 <3

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saltqueen 16 minutes ago

what i wouldn’t give to have someone look that soft over me

                                                    ⌨⌨⌨

Victor eyed the cheerful grin splitting Jason’s face, just a little uneasy in his seat. 

While having eager eyes on him was not an unfamiliar experience, he’d never been in a position where he was expected to talk about his feelings on camera. Not that he was about to confess in front of the entire crew of the show, but when it came to you the lines always got a little too blurry for his comfort. 

He got a little too eager.

“Just be nice,” Jason had instructed gently, and Victor steeled himself. 

They started, quite predictably, by asking him about his ideal type. Resisting the urge to scoff, he tried to stick to the script he’d worked on with Goldman, who had insisted on being present for today’s shoot. Not that Victor was complaining; it wasn’t exactly part of the job description, but Goldman had been enthusiastic, which Victor could appreciate and would certainly reward. 

Goldman had also spent most of yesterday handling the public relations department in his absence, preparing them for his appearance on the show. A tentative plan would be sent to him by tomorrow morning. He had faith in them, believing that they would be able to make this look good for him. 

“Someone who works hard,” he answered, knowing you would laugh at that. “Who can be themselves around me, someone I can be myself around. Someone...kind.”

The times you’ve spent in Souvenir flit through his mind, some quiet and some full of bright-eyed chatter.

“You’ve known Y/n for some time, right?” the interviewer asked. She looked nice, but he’d been on the block long enough to know that even the kindest faces can often hide the sharpest teeth.

“Yes.”

“What do you think of her?”

“She’s a very kind person,” he said easily. “One of the most hard-working and inspiring people I’ve ever met.”

You would surely gape like a fool after  seeing this. It was a little embarrassing, but Victor was determined to leave your image shiny after this. He would not have any words of his twisted to give you a bad name. If it got even a fraction of his feelings across, well, that was a bonus he wouldn’t mind having. The intimate setting of the ferris wheel had seemed to help some, but his admittedly indirect confession didn’t reach you as he had hoped.

God, but his father would love this.

“Did you have fun on your date?”

“It was lovely.” They tacked on another question and he nodded. “I...yes, I’d love to do it again.”

It was a little curt, but he didn’t really get what Goldman had meant by ‘nod tenderly with a far-off look.’

What would you think of that?

The interviewer raised a brow, her smile widening. “Let’s get to it, then. How do you feel about her?”

For some bizarre reason, the first thing that had come to his mind at this question was his inexplicable need to check your social idea every day. And the way his heart beats just a little faster when you’ve posted a new picture. How, in moments of weakness, he’d given in and saved a few to his phone. Even a mental reminder of it made him a little hot under the collar.

There were many things he couldn’t even begin to try and explain when it came to you.

Really, the list is endless.

Victor’s current favourite was the video you’d uploaded of eating the tiramisu he’d cooked. He watches it at the end of a bad day and just like that, he feels a little better.

“I think anyone who ends up with her would be the luckiest person in the world,” he said honestly. “She’s beautiful in every single way.”

The last three words were supposed to have stayed in his head, but saying them felt natural. Goldman seemed to approve, shooting him a discreet thumbs up.

When you walk in, sleep-deprived and grumpy but trying to hide it, thinking he won’t catch on as if he isn’t running sharp eyes over every inch of your face. When the first sip of your coffee is too eager, leaving your tongue burnt and him with a pressing need to soothe it with his own. When you eat too much sugar and complain about a stomach-ache; he scolds you for it, but his arms are left straining with the need to wrap themselves around you.

He cherished these moments and wanted every single one all to himself. 

She makes me greedy.

“Would you want to be that person?”

Victor laughed, light and incredulous. 

Yes. Yes. Yes. 

“I guess time will have to answer that question for us,” he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips, leaving it at just the right note to keep viewers hanging—right along with him.

lightscameranaps ✓ @jasonp

Hope y’all enjoyed the episode! #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

@jasonp sooo really sorry about this but we’re kinda dying over here

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@headaccs Victor’s acc is still private. Maybe there’s something there? 

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@berryberry But Y/n’s isn’t private, and there’s nothing there. Give it up guys, they’re just friends. 

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bandanaman @headaccs

@hotsauce bruh that look?? was not friendship 

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@hotsauce those words?? were not friendship

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srirachafire @hotsauce 

@headaccs @berryberry you two?? are hopeless romantics

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lightscameranaps ✓ @jasonp

@headaccs honestly? me too D: 

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bandanaman @headaccs

@jasonp !!!!!! asdfgdvsd

Closing your Moments and the entire thread discussing the episode, you flop back down onto your mattress. Reaching for your newest plushy, you hug it tight, perhaps a tad too aggressively. 

It’s odd. You struggle between the visceral sort of pleasure that comes from a job well done—because the response is terrific—and the trembling nerves that come from watching yourself on a date with Victor.

Watching the episode had been harder than you had expected; you hadn’t quite been expecting the way Victor was looking at you—the intense gaze was a little too convincing, and watching it from the audience’s perspective was flustering. 

You spent most of it trying to suppress the inconvenient surges of hope, telling yourself it wasn’t real.

There really was nothing to know. The ferris wheel shot had ended there because you had nothing to say to Victor’s answer. You don’t know if he was referring to his past or his present, but the look in his eyes made it clear: his feelings were still there. Instead of pressing him, you chose to stay quiet, exhaustion clear in your face and sinking deep into your bones.

Victor had seemed to understand and maybe even appreciate it, probably not wanting to discuss it either, and only insisted on dropping you home. The ride to your place had been mostly silent, but you had tried to ask him his thoughts on the day and the shoot. He kept his answers concise, appearing a little distracted, which was so unlike him it made you wonder if he regretted opening up.

You’d spent the entire ride trying to quell the delicate little thing trembling in your chest.

The next video started while you were lost in your thoughts, and it happens to be your individual parts. Curious, you lean in, wincing slightly at the way you were fidgeting. 

And then they switch to Victor. You both had to wear the outfits from the date for these, but you still weren't quite expecting the impact his voice alone would have on you. 

And as always, those fierce eyes have you freezing in place.

“Let’s get to it, then. How do you feel about her?”

He looks unfazed by the question. Of course, they go over the questions with you beforehand, but you still remember how nervous you’d felt when asked how you felt about him; Victor’s eyes flick towards the camera, filled with intent, as if addressing you—and you close the laptop with a snap, your throat tight.

You don’t have to watch that right away.

You had been very careful about what to say, how to act, channeling your inner-Victor to adopt a marble-smooth expression. Say nice things about him? Easy, you didn’t even have to make anything up. Imply just enough to keep people guessing. 

Keep your unwanted feelings to yourself. 

Palm coming to rest over your heart, pressing down as if it would alleviate the ache there, you try to sort through your thoughts. You never really thought there was a chance, but to hear it confirmed was a blow you weren’t prepared for. 

It’s ridiculous to feel so insecure, you think. You feel like you lost a competition you had never even had the chance to compete in. And over an unnamed, mysterious figure? So silly! 

But another part of your mind says it’s okay to feel this way, that it’s only natural. You’ve had such strong feelings for Victor for so long. And all of these feelings, the good and the bad, are yours; the wounds of your heart, the light in your laughter. Fighting them would only make you suffer. The love and the hurt are part of you, both important in their own right.

Knowing all of that doesn’t make it easier, though. 

After all, Victor had alluded to his feelings on camera, to your face. Knowing him, he would never do that unless he was sure about the person. 

“This fucking sucks,” you admit out loud, and at the heels of your words come the tears. Because, to make it even worse, people really seem to think it’s you. 

You can’t blame them, because even you had been taken in by his soft looks. Anyone watching would believe he’s smitten with you. Good for the show, terrible for you. 

You’re not strong enough to reply to them, to tell them you aren’t that fortunate, and have been hoping Victor, or someone from his team, would put a stop to it. 

But there hasn’t been any word from them and you curse out loud at the fact that he expects you to do something about it. As if there’s any more emphasis needed, your phone vibrates. Unlocking it with a miserable sigh, you scroll down quickly.

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Minor [19:40]: am I watching this right? Boss, are you dating the CEO? PLS SAY NO

Chik [20:21]: You bitch. When were you going to tell me you snagged THAT? So I was right back then, ha! Anyway, you two are adorbs. The puppy eyes are disgusting. I’m proud of you.

Chik [20:22]: also...deets. Now. I’ll even throw in a please!!! 

Lucien [20:40]: Well, now. I seem to have missed out on quite the opportunity.

Kiro [20:45]: I wish you’d invited me. But I guess it wouldn’t have mattered. I hope he makes you happy, Miss Chips! He better, or else ;P

‎‎

Frowning at the texts you scroll back up, hoping, hoping, hoping, and at the sight of the name that always sits at the tip of your tongue, you curl up tighter.

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Victor [21: 05]: Are you okay?

Y/N [21:20]: I’m fine. Moments seems to be blowing up, haha. Did you watch the episode?

Victor [21: 20]: Yes.

Victor [21: 21]: Did you?

‎

You pause at that, looking guiltily at your laptop. You had, sort of. Fighting off your own thoughts had taken up most of your attention. Resolving to watch it again—a clear display of previously dormant masochistic tendencies, roused by Victor— and actually pay attention this time, you turn back to the screen.

‎

Y/N [21:22]: Yeah, but not the individual parts. It was nice, they made it seem so real! But we’re going to have to say something to let them know there’s nothing like that.  

‎

You wait anxiously for a reply, a part of you clearly suffering from delusion hoping he’d oppose that. When there’s no text from him for a few minutes, you plug your phone in to charge and get out of bed, heading for a quick shower before you get something to eat.

Heartbreak hasn't been enough to curb your appetite, and you feel more than ready to let dessert have the chance to make you feel better.

Who needs Victor when you have cake, right?

Just as you’re halfway through cutting a slice of the cake Jason—well, his team—had sent as thanks, trying to keep your thoughts away from the bottle of wine you‘ve got tucked away, your doorbell rings, breaking the melancholic silence of your apartment. A part of you wants to roll your eyes at your dramatics, while the other feels you have the right to wallow for as long as you need to.

The irrational side of you stirs once more, conjuring thoughts of Victor rushing over, and you peep through the hole with a wildly thumping heart. 

Lucien’s serene smile chases those thoughts away, and you open the door with a sheepish grin. 

He looks a little tired, his dark bangs ruffled; unlike his usual sharp appearance, he looks impossibly soft in his barn red sweater and comfortable looking track pants. He’s also got a folder tucked under one arm.

“Hi!” 

“Sorry to drop by so late,” he greets you, his warm eyes bringing you a little comfort instantly. “But you mentioned you’d be working on Miracle Finder tomorrow and I wanted you to have the chance to go over my remarks before that.”

“Lucien! Thank you,” you insist, waving away his apology. “Would you like to come in? I’ve got cake.” 

He searches your face for a moment, and his eyes narrow the slightest bit. You feel a little self-conscious in your over-sized sweatshirt and shorts, but it’s not like he hasn’t seen you in various states of disarray before. 

“Can’t really say no to that. Let me get my laptop,” he finally agrees. You wait at the door as he gets it, before leading him in. But you notice his curious, inquisitive looks, so subtle and so Lucien, as he toes off his shoes.

“Everything okay?” You reach for another plate, cutting a second slice as Lucien takes a seat at the table. 

“Yes, of course. It’s just,” he hesitates, and there’s that odd scrutiny again. “I wasn’t expecting you to be alone.” 

“On a Sunday evening?” The first bite of the cake tastes like sweet comfort over the taste of despondency, and you send a silent thanks to Jason. “I spent the day napping.”

“Well, after the show I just watched,” he says, quite slyly in your opinion. “I wasn’t even sure if you’d be home.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in dating shows.” You’re aware your tone is more than a little petulant, but Lucien only laughs around a mouthful of the cake. 

“I am if you’re in one,” he retorts. “This is quite nice, by the way.” 

“The director, Jason sent it. And, honestly, it wasn’t planned. We were supposed to have Kai and Hollow on, but they ended up clashing horribly. Jason asked me and Victor was around, so…” you trail off, uncomfortable. 

“Is that why you texted me that day?” He seems to have remembered your message, and you wince slightly. You had texted him later with an apology, but hadn’t really expected him to cotton on. He doesn't look mad, just expectant.

“Well, yes, but Jason wanted, he wanted Victor.” Stumbling over your words, heat suffuses your skin as you flounder for a moment.

Lucien watches you with the eyes of a fox and the understanding of a good friend. “Just Jason?”

“Huh?”

“Was it just Jason who wanted Victor?” he asks, tilting his head as your mouth purses. 

No, no, of course it wasn’t. You stare down at your half-eaten cake, the other half of it beginning to churn in your stomach. His small, soft smiles. His scent. His rants on street food and the way he dragged you away from food that would ‘absolutely make you ill, you absolute dummy’ as Jason resigned himself to having to cut all of that out. It all comes back in a rush, your head left feeling heavy.

And then it feels the weight of a hand, as Lucien reaches over to pat it gently. “Never mind. Why don’t you get your organizer and we can go over tomorrow’s episode?” 

Relieved, grateful and slightly emotional over his silent acceptance, you rush to your bedroom to find your notebook and laptop, barely catching the light of your phone screen before it went black. Unplugging and checking it as you exited the room with your materials in hand, your train of thought comes to a screeching halt.

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Victor [21:59]: Do you really believe that?

Victor (2 missed calls)

Victor [22:15]: Y/n.

Victor [22:16]: ...Did you fall asleep?

Victor [22:18]: Dummy. Goodnight. 

‎‎

Unwilling to delve into what his first text means, you shift your thick planner in your arms and type a quick reply. 

‎‎

Y/N [22:19]: Hi! Sorry. I went to get something to eat and then Lucien dropped by. We’re going to get to work haha ^^

Victor [22:19]: …

‎‎

You wait for a whole minute before Lucien calls for you, and let your hand fall, phone locked, with a sigh. 

Well, at least he’ll be happy to hear you’re working hard.

Sinking into familiar, engaging discussions with Lucien is easy. Even with the thoughts of Victor looming at the back of your mind, you straighten out a plan for the shoot. Lucien listens to your input carefully, adding his own notes as you squint at yours. His voice, familiar and soothing, lulls you, distracting you from yourself for a short while.

Before you know it, it’s eleven and you’ve got a fantastic plan in hand. 

“I’m sorry I kept you so late,” you say for the second time in a minute, and he gives you an exasperated look. “And thank you.” 

“I’ve told you, there’s no need for all that between us,” Lucien repeats, crossing one long leg over the other as he adopts a thoughtful look. “However, perhaps you could satisfy my curiosity regarding one thing.”

“What is it?” 

You were prepared for a philosophical question. What he comes up with is, in your opinion, way more difficult to answer. 

“Why aren’t you with Victor?” he asks seriously. You blink, uncomprehending.

“Like, right now?” 

“Right now, or in general. I didn’t think he would just...let you be,” Lucien mutters the last part under his breath, but you still catch it. He continues to say something about possessive bastards, but you’re not touching that.

“I think you’ve misunderstood,” you say, slowly, with a nervous laugh, shoulders hunching a little. “All of that was just for the camera. Victor and I aren’t like that.” 

“But you have feelings for him,” Lucien points out, cutting straight to the heart of the matter and yours. Really, this is almost cruel. Lucien turns to face you fully as you sigh and sink back into the couch. 

“I do.” It’s the first time you’ve admitted it out loud. Sure, some of the people in your life have had an idea, but you’ve never said it. Lucien seems like a good person to start with. “But he doesn’t feel the same way, so.” 

And you’ve never said that out loud either. It hurts, as you put it out into the universe. As if shying away from it before would have increased your chances. 

Lucien looks at you oddly. “Did he say that? Because the way he looks at you says otherwise. It’s quite embarrassing.”

You feel heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“I’ve never told him how I feel,” you mumble, pressing the side of your cheek into the soft fabric, hoping it would swallow you up. 

“Then how do you know how he feels?” Lucien continues to probe, and you exhale forcefully because it’s so clear to you; why isn’t it ever as clear to everyone else? 

And Lucien is supposed to be your smart friend!

‘Well, there’s also someone else in his life but I can’t exactly say that.’

“Because it’s Victor,” you declare with an emphatic sweep of your hands, hoping it would somehow get your point across, that it would explain how unattainable he is. Just as you do, two things happen successively. 

One: Lucien looks at you as if he wants to boink you on the head or laugh really loudly. He does neither, but his mouth twitches violently.

And two: there’s a series of loud, heavy knocks on your door, before the culprit seems to remember you have a doorbell and rings that instead. It only rings once, but you can sense that the person is still there.

Exchanging alarmed looks with Lucien, you rise to your feet and shuffle towards the door.

“Let me,” Lucien murmurs, stopping you before you can reach the entrance, and steps forward to look through the peephole. His only reaction is a quick, sharp exhale before he steps back to unlock the door. 

Without telling you who was just knocking at your door like a maniac. 

“Wait, who i-” the words fall away with your panicked thoughts, as Lucien opens the door to reveal your uninvited visitor.

It really is Victor this time, with his chest heaving as if he’d run up the stairs. Victor, with his inky hair pushed back carelessly, in dark grey sweats and a light grey t-shirt and indoor slippers. 

Victor, with a furious look in his eyes as he pushes past Lucien, who looks a little too entertained in the face of such ire. 

“Sorry to intrude on your cosy evening,” he says, after a short pause, through clenched teeth. You stare at him in disbelief, unable to form actual words at the moment. It feels as if a concentrated storm itself has swept into your living room, ready to swallow you up. 

Of course, a part of you would be more than okay with that. Even with that knife-sharp glint in his eyes, you can’t help but want to throw yourself at it, let it graze the softest parts of you, in an emotional variation of bloodletting. 

Sometimes you surprise yourself with the things you think.

Maybe you should’ve changed into nicer pyjamas after all, damn it.

“Victor? What-is everything okay?” You look him over carefully, seeing no visible signs of injury. The stony look on his face, however, keeps you from coming too close. What could you possibly have done now?

Swiftly, you run through a list of work-related tasks. Nope. Nothing. You’ve been sure to give it your all this week just so Victor wouldn’t feel the need to call you.

Even now, though, something under your skin starts buzzing, as it always does when his entire attention is on you.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t everything be okay?” he says mutinously, crossing his arms over his chest. Okay, you’re sensing more than a little hostility here. 

And, because life is unfair, bitchy is also a good look on Victor.

“Well,” you draw out, looking past him at Lucien, who shrugs lightly. Victor frowns at the exchange. He levels a downright lethal glare at Lucien, who tilts his head in clear interest. Kinda hot, but you should probably keep that to yourself lest you push Victor to the point of spitting fire. “It’s...late...and you’re here…?”

That has his mouth doing that little spasm it does when he’s pissed. “And I notice I’m not the only one. What, is it just me who’s barred from coming to your place this late?” 

“Well, n-no,” you stammer, looking once more at Lucien who seems content to watch and be unhelpful. “But Lucien was just here to talk about tomorrow’s episode.” 

Why are you here? 

The question seems to hang in the air, unsaid yet clear. 

Victor says nothing, standing tall in your living room like an indignant matron. You feel helpless, confused, elated and increasingly offended because of the implication in his words that only catches up to you now.

You pick the path of offense.

“But what, exactly, did you think Lucien was doing here?” you ask, your tone turning decidedly cooler. He returns your glare. Behind him, you see Lucien trying to hide a smile. “You seem to be under the impression that I make it a habit of entertaining people in my evenings?” 

Victor blinks at that, arms coming loose, and you hold up a hand.

“And even if I did want to have friends over at night,” you say loudly, through gritted teeth. “What business is it of yours?” 

“It’s inappropriate,” he insists. 

“No, what’s inappropriate is you coming into my house and telling me who I should, or should not, be spending time with, regardless of the time.” Much to your frustration, you find yourself blinking back tears as your voice cracks towards the end. 

Victor deflates at that, the ice in his expression melting in the face of your furious tears; Lucien, concern clear on his face, takes a step towards you. Your eyes squeeze shut, as if that would hide you from them; anger and embarrassment war within you at not only crying in front of Victor, but to have a quiet Lucien witnessing this ridiculous drama. 

Where did your peaceful day go?

You hear footsteps, hesitant and barely audible, come closer, feel the heat from a body as it nears yours. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” It’s Victor.

Your eyes snap open to the sight of his back, your feet carrying you forward without the aid of your thoughts, a hand curling loosely into his t-shirt. 

Leave? Just like that? 

He stops in his tracks, looking back down at you in surprise. You’re not sure what he sees as you keep your eyes fixed on his shoulder, but it makes him sigh softly.

A thumb wipes under your eyes, gentle, and strong arms wrap around you carefully, pulling you into an—unreasonably broad, you think—chest; his comforting scent envelopes you, pulling you back from the edge. 

It’s frustrating. You want to yell at him for barging in like a lunatic. But you don’t want him to leave. You want to sink into his steady embrace and allow the solace it brings.

With your face pressed to his t-shirt, you miss the way he looks back at Lucien, who nods and turns to leave, but not before holding Victor’s gaze for a moment longer—you don’t see the warmth drain from his face, the vicious warning warning clear in his eyes. 

Victor pulls you closer, nodding once. 

If Lucien’s answering smile is a touch more resigned than amused, neither of them can really acknowledge it. 

You try to pull back when you hear the door close gently, but Victor cards a hand through your hair and you slump back into his embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, stroking your hair, with a gentle hesitance uncharacteristic for the decisive man. “That was...extremely inappropriate of me. I should not have done that. I can leave. I should.”

He should. But neither of you move. His heart beats a little faster, the sound clearer the longer your ear remains pressed into his chest. 

With cotton in your mouth, your mind totally mush with the knowledge that Victor’s hugging you, and with the little voice yelling that he does not get to hold you after driving you to tears—it takes you a moment to form a response. 

But you can’t resist. “So what you’re saying is you made an impulsive decision.” 

The soft motions of his hand pause before he huffs into your hair. There’s no other response, and it makes you smile a little.

“Why did you?” you finally ask. Victor quite visibly lost his cool. While he did seem to have something against Lucien, this was a bit much. You hadn’t been aware that the hostility ran this deep.

He tucks your head under his chin, the arm around your waist tightening, and as the anger subsides, your face begins to heat up as you realize how intimate this is. But Victor seems content to stay like this, and your heart hammers when you feel something brush the crown of your head. 

“Dummy,” he mutters, and yes, his words are slightly muffled by your hair, and you feel the urge to stick your head in the refrigerator. “You had that guy over this late at night. Do you really need to ask?” 

“It’s just Lucien,” you respond, and this time he lets you pull your head away to look at you with abject disbelief. 

“Just? There’s no just with that guy.” He seems serious, so you swallow the laughter bubbling up.

“Lucien is a dear friend,” you assure him. “You were really that worried about it?”

“Worried,” Victor repeats, staring at you. Your confusion is clear in your face, as the feeling that you’re missing something creeps in. “Worried. Yes. I was worried.” 

You nod encouragingly, and take a quick step back when he laughs. It isn’t one of his airy laughs, that escapes him when he finds something funny. It’s low, almost strangled—and then he steps forward, expression melting into sheer intent. 

When he speaks, his voice is a full octave lower and it scrambles your brains with shameful ease.

“Since he was the one you considered over me for our date that day. Yes, I suppose I was worried,” he muses, matching every unsteady step you take backwards with one towards you. You refrain from pointing out that it was for a show, and all too soon, the back of the sofa hits your hips and Victor looms over you. 

You tuck the part about him knowing you wanted to ask Lucien first away for later. Victor, his soothing scent, the heat from his breath, his tempestuous gaze—your senses flood with him.

“Y-yeah. But you didn’t need to be, he always helps us out,” you point out confusedly, and he gives you a familiar, unimpressed look that brings a small, and odd, measure of relief. 

“What kind of a person would I be,” he says, and your stomach swoops as he leans over you, hands resting on the top of the sofa as you lean back. “If I let dangerous men like him think they have a chance with you?” 

“Dangerous? He’s…” The rest of his words catch up and you can’t think, tongue struggling to form coherent speech. “Not...dangerous?” 

“Too dangerous,” he murmurs, lips brushing over your temple. Something in the back of your throat trembles. “Even if I don’t have the right, I…”

He doesn’t continue.

Holding your breath, you count to five before releasing it, pulse beating an anticipatory beat in your veins. “Why should anyone think they don’t have a chance with me?” 

You know he hasn’t, but with how everything in you stills after asking that question, you wonder if he stopped time.

You’re not sure if it’s the right question to have asked, or the worst.

But it gives him pause, and when the tip of your tongue slips out to wet your lips, his eyes slide down to your mouth. A large hand slides up your spine to rest at the back of your head, your skin erupting with goosebumps at the touch. 

Your lips part on the softest sound and it makes something rumble in his chest, quiet but clear with how close he is. 

It gives you what you’ve been dreaming of—Victor’s lips falling over yours, soft, with a rushed breath and fervent eyes, something desperate at the edge of it. Everything goes quiet, with only your blood pounding in your ears. It feels as if every inch of you is awake in a tingly sort of way, your thoughts deserting you at the way he looks at you, ready to devour. 

There’s hunger in his eyes, and you feel faint when it hits you.

It’s also his answer, you realize, mouth opening to say something, anything, and he pulls you back, kissing you fiercely. Something in you caves, spilling into your blood, setting it alight with a burst of sparking desire.

Victor kisses with his entire body, like he does everything else: controlling every inch of it, sweeping your mind clean, licking into your mouth with the determination that drives his every action, to conquer.

But you’ve been determined to match him since the day you first met him, all too eager to push back and clash. You don’t mind the clack of teeth, the lack of rhythm, and Victor only presses in harder as your arms slide over his shoulders, fingers weaving into his hair. Your tongue is a sly thing that licks along his, your mouth a clever warm weapon that sucks at it, and he unravels. 

Hands that were so careful lose their caution as they dig into the sides of your hips, slinking down and hooking around your thighs as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“You’re not stopping me,” he rasps against your lips, almost questioning, pupils blown wide. He looks so good you might just lose your mind, and this is after a kiss.

Taking a page out of his book, you kiss him again. 

He carries you around the sofa—with a strength you’ll be sure to admire deeply once you’ve regained the ability to form thoughts—even as he sucks bruises into the delicate skin of your neck, sitting down with you sinking into his lap. 

You’re shivering, you realize, at this sudden fulfilment of a desperate, impossible wish. Your knees press into the sides of his thighs as Victor kisses the corners of your mouth, the curve of your upper lip, the plush, swollen jut of your lower lip—and you feel deliriously drunk. 

He watches you carefully.

“Oh,” you say, half-slurring, kissed stupid. “That’s why.”

“Hm,” he agrees, nuzzling the side of your face. His eyes are bright, his arms a grounding touch around your back. “No one should think they get to have this.” 

“No one but you?” It’s meant to be clever, sharper, but it comes out shy instead. He nips at the shell of your ear, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it. 

“If you allow it,” he confirms. He presses his lips to the soft skin behind your ear.

Something swells within you, sweet, sudden and threatening to dissolve you into tears. It breaks open, everything you’ve worked so hard to suppress spilling out like hoarded treasure out of a box now too small to hold it.

“I like you.” It comes out in a rush, and you slap your hands over your face. This time, his low chuckle rings clear in your ears. But when your breath hitches on a sob, his grip on you tightens, lips finding your forehead. “I really like you. So much. I have for a while. At the fair, all of it, I wasn’t...wasn’t acting.” 

“What, and you thought I was?” He looks a little offended when you take a peek at his face. But the sight of his ruffled hair and kissed-puffy lips sends a hot, thrilled jolt through you, and you have to restrain yourself from pouncing. “I have many skills. Acting, admittedly, is not one of them.”

“I thought maybe it was a hidden passion or something,” you mutter, trying to repress a wet laugh at the withering look he gives you, gentle hands wiping at your eyes. “What, you were great!”

“Nope. That was all real,” he declares, pulling you in to rest against him, your head on his shoulder. You feel a little awkward, but that’s mostly outweighed by how much you want to stay here. “...well, maybe I was a little…”

“Nicer than usual?” you offer, and he huffs into your hair. “Cheesy, like you binge-read several romance novels the night before?”

“Cheesy?” He protests, and you laugh with warmth building and rushing through you. “I thought you liked all that.” 

“I do.” This time, the kiss he presses into the crown of your head is firmer. 

“Then I’ll do it.” You look up at him, a little enchanted, a little bewildered, but the former wins out as the corners of his mouth curl up. “Every silly thing you want to do. Oh, and I really like you too.” It’s almost a scoff, but the tremor in his voice and the flush that spreads across his skin speaks his truth.

“Really?” you ask, your grin a little mad and ridiculously beatific. It feels unreal, the joy and relief spreading through you; he pecks the tip of your nose.

“Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?” Victor asks, and the solemn sincerity in his voice prompts you to deliver a loud, smacking kiss to his cheek, just because you can. To your unending joy, the lobes of his ears are almost impossibly red. 

“Never,” you assure him, peppering more kisses over his skin, fascinating by the sight of him pinkening. A thought strikes you, dampening your rising spirits. “I thought...thought there was someone else.” 

He makes a soft, surprised noise in his throat, disbelief winning out over the tenderness for a moment. “Who?”

“I don’t know!” You press your face into the side of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent, hoping it would help with the remnants of hurt. “Some mystery goddess.” 

He’s quiet as you nuzzle his rapidly warming skin, feeling the first hints of sheer mortification settle in at the way your voice just cracked. He whispers something. 

“Sorry?” 

Victor clears his throat. “Just you.” He buries his nose in your hair before you have the chance to lean back like you want to. “It’s only ever been you.” 

Not expecting the sincere confession, it feels as if the breath was punched out of you.  “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

He toys with a strand of your hair, curling it absently around a finger. “I didn’t want to overstep. And to make you feel like you had to reciprocate.” 

You stay silent, sensing that he has more to say, even though you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go.

“I’ll admit that I feared you would feel pressured to be with me. And that would...I would rather see you happy with someone else, than see you miserable with me.”

“I could never be miserable with you,” you protest at once, feeling almost offended by the mere suggestion. 

“I’m not...I know I can be difficult.” The words fall out in a rushed exhale, as if he wants to get them out before they can be swallowed; you feel weak with the force of your emotions. “But I can try for you. I did that day. I wanted you to relax, to have fun, like you do with your friends. I didn’t want you to be so...cautious.” 

It’s true, you realize guiltily, that there are times where you can’t completely relax in Victor’s company. Those are the days where your feelings sit a little heavier in your stomach, when his words strike a little sharper. The thought of disappointing him, of doing something not to his taste, of judgment, held you back. 

But the day of the fair had been different. He met you halfway, maybe even more than that, and never said a word of complaint. You’d assumed that had been for the camera, though.

“Please,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and you realize you’d said that out loud. “No, that was…” He lowers his gaze, long lashes fanning over the tops of his cheekbones. “That was to show you that you can have fun with me too. I...like you. The way you are. Every bit. The determined, unyielding parts.”

You stare at him.

“The hurting, unsure parts,” he says, a little quieter. “The silly, ridiculously cute parts—don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what,” you ask, your overworked mind trying to process his words, knowing your smile is probably embarrassingly dopey. 

He scowls at you. “Just be yourself with me. Dummy is fine.” 

“Victor,” you exclaim all of a sudden, startling him. “How am I supposed to stay standing in the face of you saying things like that?” 

He rolls his eyes again. “First of all, you’re sitting right now, and I don’t plan to let you move for a while.” Predictably, you feel a little lightheaded at that. “And as for the future...then don’t try to stand, dummy. You can just rest here.” He pulls your head to rest on his shoulder, patting it firmly.

“I’m going to die,” you say with absolute certainty into his shoulder. “I can’t survive this.” 

“You have to,” he mutters dryly, tucking you more firmly against him. “Haven’t you seen the discussions? Our ‘love story’ can’t end in your death, too many would be left devastated.” 

“Including you?” The look you direct at him is positively vulpine, and he snorts, pushing your head back down. Bully. 

The titillated fluttering in your stomach makes you smile.

“...I can’t become a widower before we even get married,” he says solemnly, and you can nearly feel the blood drain from your face as you rear back. 

The corners of his mouth twitch with something like mischief, and the smack you deliver to his bicep is perfectly justified. 

The undoubtedly chiselled muscle you feel very briefly will also require further rumination once you’re alone.

He’s cracking marriage jokes, no doubt referring to the few comments gushing about a secret wedding. An hour ago, you had been under the impression that he was madly in love with some mystery figure. 

Like a bird just freed, your heart flutters at the thought of him having feelings for you.

“Say it again.” 

To his credit, he doesn’t do you the disservice of pretending he doesn’t know what you’re asking for. He clears his throat, eyes flicking to the side before finding their way back to yours. 

“I like you,” he says, a little lower, a lot deeper. “Dummy.” 

You wish you could see what your face was doing, because it makes his eyes go really, really soft. Now that you aren’t weighed down by the frantic need to hide your feelings from one of the most astute people you’ve ever met, you feel like you could float away the way you’ve seen Gavin do, just from how free and happy you feel.

“Just for the record,” you say quietly. “I like you the way you are too.”

“Hm?”

“Even when you’re being a jerk.” He tweaks your ear lightly, rolling his eyes when you giggle. Your heart beats a harsh beat as you try to come up with the right words. “But you’re also the best man I know. When you have it together, and when you don’t—I’ll be there for you. Always.” The way he’s always been there for you.

He kisses the tip of your nose, his pretty eyes a little shinier than before.

“We should aim for a real date first.” He sounds decisive, and a little hoarse.

“...I have a list of places I thought would be good for our first date,” you admit, eyes still locked with his despite your shy admission. He looks pleased, always happy when you take the initiative, and you watch his mouth do that tender thing for a second before leaning in for a swift kiss, catching his lower lip between your teeth as you pull away.

“Good.” His head falls back onto the sofa as your lips trail down his neck curiously, mouthing at the slope of his adam’s apple. Just because you can. “Send it to me.”

“Good,” you murmur, breath hitching in your throat as his hands curl over your waist, skimming the hem of your sweatshirt. “We’re doing this, then.” 

“Most definitely.” With how throaty his voice has gotten as you reach his clavicle, a gentle explorer, you’re not sure words will be your allies for much longer.

“Will you be my boyfriend then, Mr. CEO?” you ask playfully, tasting the words in your mouth. Victor makes a soft, content sound in his throat. 

“I’m all yours,” he affirms, relishing the words in his mouth, raising his head to look at you through hooded eyes. You both know it, just a little, but saying the words brings a giddy, vulnerable sort of feeling with them. “And you…”

With no need for hope, just certainty, you rise up to kiss him softly. 

“I’m yours.” 

BTS:

Goldman stares at Jason in horrified disbelief, shocked by the words that had just left the director’s mouth. He glances at his boss, whose only reaction had been to cock a brow. 

“Would you be open to replacing Kai?”

“I’m...not really one for such shows,” Victor says, quite delicately in Goldman’s opinion, knowing the man usually has no qualms about being savagely blunt.

“I’m aware. I just thought it would be something different, something that would let people see a different side of you,” Jason explains, still completely at ease. 

Victor’s expression makes it quite clear he doesn’t care about people seeing other sides of him.

“Who’s the other participant? Did Hollow come back?” Goldman asks, curious despite himself.  In his very personal opinion, which he will definitely be keeping to himself, it might be nice for Victor’s image if people saw he isn’t always heartless. 

“Oh, no. She didn’t,” Jason says pleasantly. But the look in his eyes is almost hawklike as he keeps them locked on Victor. “I asked Y/n to do it instead. She agreed.” 

Now, to the untrained eye, Victor gives no outward reaction to that statement. 

But Goldman sees the way his brow twitches, the way his lips purse the slightest bit. He wonders if Jason, as a director with many years of experience under his belt, caught it too. 

“She agreed?” Victor asks, sounding as if he doesn’t quite believe it. 

“Yes,” Jason answers, suddenly distracted as he glances at his wristwatch. He sighs, a touch too dramatic to be convincing, but Goldman doesn’t think Victor cares about that. “But I understand. We wouldn’t want you to do something you’re not interested in. I have to go check on her, we’ll keep you updated.”

Something is happening here, Goldman realizes. Jason isn’t rushing out, but seems to be waiting for something. 

Victor, staring at the surface of the coffee table, is struggling. 

Goldman struggles too. He struggles not to roll his eyes in abject exasperation, to pray for divine patience. Why is he like this? Of course, to step into such an obvious trap surely goes against all the instincts he’s honed over the years, but none of that matters when it comes to the delicate matters of the heart! 

Instead, he catches Jason’s eyes, pushing his glasses up his nose, eyes glinting. 

“But who else would you ask to step in on such short notice?” Goldman asks, pointedly. 

And finally, Goldman holds his breath as the ghost of a smirk passes over Jason’s mouth.

This is it.

“Oh, it shouldn’t be a problem. Y/n said she could call Professor Lucien, having already guessed Victor wouldn’t be, um, up for it. She really knows you well, huh?” Jason informs them cheerfully, and even Goldman isn’t expecting that. He thought Jason would go for the ‘who will help poor y/n’ route.

It’s obvious manipulation, and they all know it. Knowing Victor, he will stubbornly refuse to give in and suffer for it. At least, the way he’s glaring at Jason seems to indicate that.

Goldman rushes through several justifications in his head, forming a rapidly coherent argument as to why he should do it, carefully keeping ‘if you don’t want to see her with someone else, suck it up’ and ‘please, please, watching you sulk is really sad I can’t do it’ off the list. 

Surely, Victor wouldn’t let the sexy professor sweep you off your feet? He’s heard the man talk, that kind of smooth talk should not be allowed and holy hell, Jason has played this really well. 

“They do get along well, so it should work,” Jason muses, slathering a little more icing on his three-tier cake of clear-cut manipulation, drama, and subterfuge.

“I’ll do it.” It’s said through a tightened jaw, but it rings clear in the silence of the room. Goldman abandons his mental speech, head whipping around to stare at Victor.

“Oh?” Jason sounds genuinely surprised, as if he hadn’t been aiming for this from the start. 

“Yes,” comes the answer, leaving no room for argument. 

“Are you sure?” Jason asks, oddly somber, finally abandoning the pretense. So he is in possession of some morals, who would have thought?

“Give me the briefing,” Victor says, shoulders set in a firm, determined line Goldman is all too familiar with. 

Jason relaxes into his seat, relief clear in his face. 

And as Victor turns to him, giving him specific instructions about his outfit, cologne and flowers, determined to do this right with that familiar, besotted spark in his eye, Goldman feels warm pride trickle in. 

‘We’re gonna get you the girl, boss.’

Aaaaaaand...CUT. 

I know the last behind the scenes thing wasn’t really needed but I had to 

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it!

[mst3kproject]

Battle of the Worlds

Several times on this blog I've featured movies that have more than one title.  In almost every case, the new titles were better than the original one, and this is not an exception.  Battle of the Worlds is fairly bland, but it tells you that you're going to be seeing a movie about some kind of space-based conflict, without giving away the details.  The Italian title was Il Pianeta degli Uomini Spenti, which is a fucking spoiler.

An earlier draft of this review contained a couple of jokes about the classically phallic 60's spacecraft in the movie, but I went back and took those out.  Bezos has really set a whole new standard for Giant Dong Rockets and I can no longer accept anything less.

A group of astronomers have just discovered a rogue planet, which they have dubbed the Outsider, is entering our solar system. Everybody is worried about it hitting Earth except for nasty old misanthrope Professor Benson, who says it'll be a near miss.  As it turns out, nobody's exactly right – the Outsider doesn't hit us, but it doesn't just pass by, either.  Instead, it settles into orbit, and when humanity attempts to explore it, it responds by sending out squadrons of flying saucers to blow our rockets out of its sky!  After one of these crashes on Earth, Benson is able to learn how to deactivate the Outsider’s defences and land on it, where humanity can finally confront its inhabitants... or can we?

Well, if you speak Italian, you already know the answer, because this is The Planet of Extinguished Men. The aliens are all long dead and their spaceship has been following its programming for millions of years without them, including the part telling it to destroy the Earth.  Bummer.

I actually have quite a bit to say about this movie.  It centres around some interesting musings about human emotion and curiosity, though it never comes to any solid conclusions.  As a movie, unfortunately, it's not very well-made.  This is a story in which the world as we know it nearly comes to an end more than once, and yet very little seems to happen in it.

The opening sequence is terribly clumsy and does very little to place you within this world.  We start off with two characters kissing and being excited about starting a new life together, but we have no idea at this point who they are or why they want to leave this place. When the Outsider is discovered, the scientists beat around the bush and try to keep it a secret, even from the audience.  Only Benson is willing to be upfront about it.  This does establish him as a realist while making his colleagues seem spineless, which is what the movie wants, but it's also terribly frustrating for the viewer.

Later there's a sequence in which a craft attempting to land on Mars is nearly destroyed by the gravity of the Outsider, and some quick thinking saves the astronauts' lives, but this is directed like the battle sequences in Invasion of the Neptune Men. We have no idea where any of these craft or planets are in relation to one another, and have to rely on characters sitting at desks to tell us what's happening.  Even worse, we never see the chaos the looming end of the world wreaks on society.  Astronauts who have recently returned to Earth note that they've heard there have been suicides and riots as people fear the Outsider will impact our planet, but we never see any of this.

The movie does a little better later, when the Outsider's close approach causes disastrous tidal forces... these are represented by black and white footage of floods and volcanic eruptions tinted red to try to make it match the rest of the colour film.  As always, this fails, but at least they tried. Other special effects are equally pathetic.  There are the inevitable plastic model kit rockets with their flame exhaust that rises in what's supposed to be a zero-gravity vacuum.  The 'flying saucers' the Outsider launches to defend itself look like nothing so much as giant fried eggs.

The Outsider itself is particularly sad to look at.  They have a model they use for it in a few shots, but this is about on a par with the original MST3K spaghetti ball.  In other shots, the Outsider is represented by a photograph of the Moon.  Absolutely no attempt is made to disguise it, and so of course the effect is a dismal failure because everybody knows what the goddamn Moon looks like. They couldn't even, I don't know, turn it upside-down or something?

On the other hand, the inside of the Outsider is actually pretty cool.  The sets aren't exactly believable, but you can see what they were going for.  Upon entering the caverns, the explorers find themselves in a series of tunnels full of strange red tubes and textures that look more organic than geological. Entering the Outsider is like wandering around within a living organism.  My favourite part of this is that absolutely nothing we see here is comprehensible.  Professor Benson, the genius, claims to be able to figure out what's going on, but his declarations seem arbitrary and nothing we're looking at makes visual sense.  Even the aliens don't look like anything in particular.  Were it not for Benson, we would not recognize them as living (or dead) creatures.

Like First Spaceship on Venus, Battle of the Worlds is much more interested in its ideas than in anything else, including what is supposedly its plot.  The characters are important mostly as the embodiment of those ideas, rather than as people in themselves, and the ideas the movie wants to study are about logic and emotion and how they affect human priorities.

The character of Dr. Fred Steele finds himself facing the potential end of the world, and decides that the most important thing to him in this situation is the love between him and his fiancee, Eve Barnett. Professor Benson, on the other hand, thinks the most important thing is to understand the threat they're facing.  Partly this is so that humanity can save itself from destruction, but knowledge for its own sake is also important.  In between these two men is Eve herself, who thinks love and science are both important and tries to find some middle ground between the two.  This is difficult for her, because Benson wants her to stay at the observatory and assist him, while Fred wants her to leave with him so they can get married.  When Eve tries to convince Fred to stay with her, both men see this as her having chosen Benson, and it poisons the relationships between all three parties.  Only with Benson dead are Eve and Fred able to strike a balance again.

But the movie doesn't want us to think that there is no middle ground.  The movie's other romantic couple are the two scientists from the Mars Base, Bob and Cathy.  They got married because they were both lonely and a psychological evaluation suggested that they had compatible personalities.  As the story progresses, however, they find that they have indeed fallen in love and want a future together that would include things like children – but this is ultimately denied to them, as Cathy is crushed by falling debris while exploring the Outsider.

Benson dies when insists on staying aboard the Outsider to try to decode its computers despite the fact that the military is about to destroy the entire object.  As the others escape, Fred intones the movie's beauty killed the beast line: “poor Benson, if they opened his chest they'd find a formula where his heart should be.”  And yet Benson died happy – as the Outsider explodes he is triumphant in his ability to understand its secrets, and laughing at the foolishness and cowardice of his fellow man.  It is the survivors who are miserable, mourning the loss of Benson himself as well as of Cathy, whose death was entirely meaningless.

I'm not sure what the movie is trying to tell us about these different approaches to life.  It seems to present them as ultimately incompatible, that attempts to give logic and emotion equal weight can only end in tears.  Only Benson, who was unswerving in his devotion to science, is ultimately satisfied. Perhaps the take-home message is that whatever your principles are, happiness lies in following them to their conclusion.

There's a second message, too, in different approaches to science itself. Modern physicists will often describe themselves as either theoretical or experimental... the two fields do compliment each other, but they often take place in different rooms, and one will be seen as leading the way for the other.  The search for the Higgs Boson was theory-led: people were pretty sure it existed, they just had to find it.  A great deal of astrophysics, however, is result-led: what we see tells us that there are things going on, like dark matter and dark energy, that we know nothing about, and the theorists must do their best to figure it out.

For most of his life, Benson has been a theorist.  He sits in his greenhouse chalking on the floors, spinning theories out of other people's results or out of pure mathematics.  Until the arrival of the Outsider, he had no interest in going out and exploring or experimenting.  But it quickly becomes clear to him that he cannot understand the Outsider through pure theory, as his calculations cannot account for the decisions of its makers.  In order to know it, he must see it for himself, so he grandly announces his intention to leave his 'den'.  Nobody ever asks him if it was worth it, but his maniacal smile at the moment of his death suggests that it was.

Battle of the Worlds had potential to be a really interesting movie, but ultimate the way its shot and edited make it mainly a very dull one.  Like its own characters, it fails to find the balance it needed.

[deja-you]

angel wings + wedding rings

part four | angels in the early morning

m. de lafayette x reader

summary: both of you say things that you don’t really regret.

word count: 3.4k

masterlist | previous | next

When his eyes were shut, Lafayette could only feel guilt.

He felt guilty for everything. For convincing you to marry him when you were both so clearly drunk. Then for trapping you in this marriage even though he had nothing to offer you. For keeping the apartment so cold. And for making you stay up late worrying where he was. Now, he felt guilty for not telling you no when you asked for meaningless sex; he knew it wasn’t meaningless to him.

The kind of guilt that embedded itself into your soul and swallowed you from the inside out. An ocean of guilt that he was now drowning in, the icy water filling his lungs and preventing him from calling out for help. The guilt was a siren, a warning of impending doom, a disaster about to make landfall and destroy everything in its path. 

But then he opened his eyes and saw you. 

Staring right back at him, the corners of your lips turned up at the corners and bright eyes staring back into his. Lafayette’s heart began to beat again-- when had it stopped beating? Your smile was infectious, and he couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his face as well. He hoped you couldn’t see right through his smile, to the heart hammering in his chest. 

“You’re beautiful. Absolutely breathtaking,” he said after awhile, his eyes following the slope of your nose and traced your jawline. 

You laughed through your nose. “You don’t have to keep flirting with me, love. I already had sex with you. Three times.”

His grin widened and he slowly nodded in agreement. “Three times.”

“I have to say, I’ve heard the rumors, but I didn’t think they were true.” You let your head fall back onto the pillow, sighing softly and allowing for your eyes to close shut.

“What do the rumors say about me?” Lafayette asked curiously, propping himself up on his elbow. 

You opened one eye to see him grinning smugly at you, and you scoffed softly. “Oh, no. Your ego’s already big enough as it is.”

“I’m curious. Come on, mon ange, tell me.”

You only shook your head. “I’m sure you have girls tell you how good you are in bed all the time.” You paused, your eyes snapping open as a thought occurred to you. “Maybe you should be on the complimenting side of the post-sex conversation.”

“You want me to talk about how good you are in bed?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. Coming from you, it’s a big deal.” You shrugged, then pinned him with an expectant stare. 

Lafayette considered you for a moment, and found no words to be acceptable. It wasn’t that there was a lack of things he could compliment you on; that wasn’t the problem. There were so many things he wanted to say. Words filled with affection and love, but mostly truth. He knew he wouldn’t be able to tell you how much he adored you without letting it all slip out. 

Especially since you were so insistent last night that this was purely about the sex, no emotions involved. No strings attached, you had said. Lafayette hated himself for agreeing, but he knew he would agree again in a heartbeat. He would do anything if he got to be the one to draw those lyrical moans from your lips, if he was the one who got to make you feel that good.

“Well?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Lafayette reminded himself to breathe, and offered you an indifferent smile. “I guess you were alright.”

“Just alright?” You scoffed, sitting up in bed, and pulling the sheet to your chest. “We both know I was more than alright.”

He grinned, and wanted to tell you that yes, you were much better than alright, but Lafayette knew he wouldn’t stop himself there. He turned away from you, grabbing a pair of sweats and pulling them on. 

“I’m going to make breakfast, feel free to use my shower. The water pressure’s much better than the guest bathroom’s.” He stood up from the bed, giving you a nice view of his toned back, and the early morning light from the window outlined him in an almost heavenly way.

Your eyes followed his figure as he exited the room, and you sighed softly, letting your head fall back against the soft pillows. It was so easy to wake up next to him. In his bed. In his house. It was just easy. 

After taking a moment to stretch, you forced yourself to climb out of bed and pad into his bathroom. You started the shower, and once the water got hot, you got in and let the water wash you clean. You had time to really think now. To think about this whole arrangement. To think about last night. To think about how much you wanted to feel his lips on yours again. To think about how much nicer his shower was than the guest bathroom’s was. 

You figured you had taken long enough in the shower at this point. California experienced frequent droughts, it wouldn’t be environmentally conscious to stay in the shower any longer. You shut off the water, and wrapped yourself in one of the fluffy white towels Lafayette kept in his bathroom. Had he really been hoarding the quality towels and soaps in his bathroom? You made a mental note to reprimand him about it later. 

Barefoot and concealed only in a towel, you walked out into the kitchen where the fragrant smell of coffee wafted through the air. Lafayette heard you enter the room, and he turned to face you. You could’ve sworn the relaxed smile he wore grew ever so subtlety when he saw you. Or maybe you had just hoped it had. 

“Made you coffee. To your exact specifications.” He slid the hot mug over to you.

Your heart began to beat a little faster at the thought of caffeine and potentially at the thought that of Lafayette memorizing how you like your coffee. “What did I ever do to deserve such an amazing husband like you, sweetheart?”

He snorted softly. “You got drunk in Vegas.”

“I suppose drunken mistakes have their benefits.” You took a sip of the coffee and let it warm you from the inside out. 

“Careful, mon ange, you keep calling me a mistake and you might hurt my feelings.” His tone was teasing, but he was careful to look away from your gaze and turn back to the breakfast he was working on. 

“Now I could ask more questions about your upcoming film, but I think we need to discuss the elephant in the room. Your secret marriage to Victoria Secret’s angel, Y/n L/n.”

The conversation you were currently having with Alex and John paused at the mention of your name on the TV screen. 

Lafayette was on Ben Franklin’s talk show, and John had convinced you and Alex to come over to catch up and watch the interview. John and Alex were dying to ask you about your marriage, since they really hadn’t been told much more than what was printed in the tabloids, but Ben had beaten them to the question in his interview. 

You watched Lafayette put on a practiced smile. A smile viewers would just assume was a result of the mention of his wife, but you knew Lafayette better than that. He was mentally preparing the rehearsed story the two of you had crafted together. 

“Well, Ben, what do you want to know about Y/n and I?” Lafayette asked.

The eccentric host’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward on his desk. “Everything. For starters, when did you two start dating? And how could you keep this secret from dear old me?”

Lafayette chuckled. “We met through our mutual friend, Hercules Mulligan, and... and I was just awestruck from the moment I met her. I had the biggest crush on her, and one day I finally got the guts to ask her out.”

You pursed your lips as you watched the interview. Was it at all possible that Lafayette had liked you? You couldn’t stop yourself from imagining what would’ve happened if he had asked you out, but then you reminded yourself that he was a professional actor. He didn’t mean any of it. It was just a cover. And that didn’t bother you.

“Somehow I convinced a literal angel to go out with me, and for some reason she’s stuck around. What’s it been? A month and a half? We had a small ceremony, neither of us wanted anything big.” Lafayette laced his fingers together and leaned back in his chair. “I still can’t believe that she’s my reality.”

The audience and Ben aww’d at his statement, and the irony of his statement tugged at your heart. This fake marriage was fucked up, you both knew it, and you found yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“Y/n must be one special girl to make the Gilbert de Lafayette settle down. You have quite the reputation y’know,” Ben said suggestively. 

“That’s all in the past. Y/n’s my present and my future.” Lafayette looked away from Ben for a moment, his eyes lingering on the ring on his finger. “This last month and a half being married to her has been the best month and a half of my life. I just... I love her.”

Another round of awws from the audience, and this time Alex and John joined the audience, glancing at you for a reaction. You gave them what you hoped looked like a contented smile, but inside you were a twisted knot of shock and anxiety. 

Lafayette had just said he loved you on national television. There was really no going back now; surprisingly, that’s not what you were focused on. He had said it with such sincerity that even you were convinced he meant it. You forced the warm, overflowing sensation back into your gut and reminded yourself it was all an act. A very compelling act that manipulated your emotions with ease, but an act nonetheless. 

Ben and Lafayette thankfully moved onto another topic, and John turned down the volume on the TV. Alex and John turned to face you, ready to begin their own investigation. 

“You have to know, we’re both very upset that we weren’t invited to the wedding,” Alex began. “We’re supposed to be friends, Y/n!”

“It was pretty spontaneous.” Understatement of the year. “We really didn’t invite anyone. Not even family.”

“You didn’t even tell us. I read about your wedding in a magazine. We didn’t even know you were dating,” John said. 

You shrugged. “You heard Lafayette. We kept it quiet, but had been dating for awhile.”

“If we’re being honest,” Alex said, “I think I knew you two were dating.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It was pretty obvious in the way you guys would stare at each other all the time.”

“We didn’t... We didn’t stare at each other all the time.”

John nodded in agreement. “No, no. Alex’s right. It was right in front of us the whole time. You guys always spent so much time together. I should’ve suspected something was going on.”

“I always knew you liked him, Y/n,” Alex said, “but you’re really in love with him? You never thought to tell us?”

“We’re married. Of course I love him.” And God, did you wish you were lying. 

“I brought you lunch.”

You examined the box in Lafayette’s hand, smiling a little when you recognized the logo from your favorite restaurant. You grabbed his arm and pulled him out of earshot from the group of models who were watching the two of you and whispering to each other.

“Y’know you don’t have to bring me lunch, we’re not really married,” you said quietly when you were sure no one could hear you. 

Lafayette only shrugged and thrusted the box of food into your hands. “I know. Just think of it as a way for me to say thank you.”

“I think you’ve thanked me enough. I’ve got a new Rolls-Royce, don’t I?” You grinned. 

“She’s all yours, mon ange.”

You were smiling up at Lafayette, and he responded with a dazzling smile of his own. To any onlookers, it was a sweet moment between two newlyweds in the Honeymoon stage. And it sure felt like it. You remembered where you were and quickly looked away from him.

“I wish I could eat lunch with you, but I have to get back to work,” you said. 

He nodded. “Of course. Tuesdays are busy for you. But Wednesday is your day off. Get lunch with me tomorrow.”

Sure, you’d had plenty of breakfasts and dinners with him, and a few lunches just for public appearances, but this felt different. It was the soft way he asked; the slight shaking of his voice that told you he was nervous. The way his eyes were a wider, more hopeful and tender. 

“Lunch? Tomorrow?” You asked slowly. 

Lafayette swallowed thickly. “Yes. Lunch tomorrow.”

You paused. “Like a date?”

“Like a date.”

Maybe all the planets had aligned perfectly in outer space just to make sure you made a decision you promised yourself months earlier that you wouldn’t. A decision you knew was stupid and could end poorly. But between the tugging in your gut and the nervous smile on Lafayette’s face, any coherent thought was drowned out in a pink haze. 

“Okay. Let’s go on a date,” you said.

Any doubt about whether you had made a bad decision flew out the window when you saw Lafayette’s shoulders relax and his smile take over his face. That smile could light up the darkest room. He bounced excitedly back and forth on his feet. 

“Great! I’ll make reservations.” He took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at his excitement, shaking your head a little. “We’re married and we’ve already slept together, but this is what gets you excited?”

“Maybe it’s because I just really like lunch,” he said. Maybe it’s just because this is actually real, he thought. 

“You’re ridiculous. I really need to get back to work now before Hercules comes and yells at you for distracting me,” you told him. 

He nodded and leaned forward to kiss you on the cheek. “Have a good day, mon ange.”

The first date was perfect.

It wasn’t anything special. Lafayette took you to a quiet restaurant just outside of L.A. He didn’t buy flowers or have anything spectacular planned, it was just a casual lunch. You ordered your food, talked about your day, ate, paid the bill, and left. That was it. And it was perfect. 

The problem was that once you said yes to a date once, you couldn’t say no. And in Lafayette’s opinion, the second date was more significant. 

Lafayette tried to calm himself when he asked you again. When he was around you, he couldn’t help but feel panicked. Not panicked in the scared or terrified kind of ways, but panicked in the way he didn’t know how to stop or slow down. He was a car going full speed down the highway with no breaks and no intentions to stop. 

But you weren’t the same. He knew you had to bend your morals and ideals to even say yes to a first date. He would slow down for you. Or, at the very least, he would hide his panic. 

“Do you want to go out?”

Out like a date? you’d wanted to ask. Or maybe just out like ‘you’ve been in my apartment for too long and I’m afraid there’s going to be a permanent you shaped indent in my couch.’ You glanced up at him, first noticing the easy smirk he wore. Then you saw the slight panic in his eyes and you nodded to yourself. Yes, he means like a date. 

“Yes.” You would’ve thought that one little word was a drug the way Lafayette’s face lit up at the mere sound of it. 

If Lafayette was still trying to contain his panic, he wasn’t doing a very good job at it. He took your hand in his and grabbed the keys to his car with the other. In a second you were situated in the passenger seat of his car and Lafayette was pulling out into the road. 

“Where are we going?” You asked him while he helped you connect to the car’s sound system.

“I... I hadn’t thought of that yet,” he admitted, and you laughed. “Where do you want to go?”

“Don’t ask me, this was your idea. I don’t want to make a decision.”

“Okay, okay. Then we’ll just drive until we find somewhere we want to stop.”

The word ‘we’ felt so natural on his tongue. Like it was his mother language. You were his wife, his partner. Even if you just saw it as a temporary thing, and even if Lafayette knew it could only be a temporary thing, every now and then he liked to pretend that this was all real. 

Neither you nor Lafayette would remember every detail from that night. The two of you were intoxicated, not by alcohol or any other form of inebriation, but by something stronger and more languid. Memories came back in poetic proses, broken glass on the sidewalk that looked like glittering stars, camera flashes that documented a fake marriage and real smiles, and desperate displays of affection that only delayed catastrophe. 

You don’t think anything Lafayette ‘plans’ to do that night is intentional. In fact, you don’t know if anything he’s done in his entire life has been intentional. Sometimes that worries you, but right now you can’t help but love the spontaneous man that pulls you out onto the Santa Monica beach. 

It’s already getting dark, and you’re certain that if you take your shoes off now to meander around the beach, you’ll never find them again. And you like these shoes. But Lafayette insists you run around barefoot with him. You mutter something about “I don’t know why I do these things for you.” You know the answer. You’re careful to make sure that because I love you doesn’t slip out. 

“Lafayette, I swear if I lose these shoes, I’m getting a divorce,” you say as your bare feet sink into the cool sand. 

He scoffs. “Well I wouldn’t want your shoes to be ruined by ocean water.”

“Why would they be...” your eyes meet his, then move to the waves lapping at the beach, then back to Lafayette. “No.”

“Yes.” 

“No.”

“Yes.”

You’re not given the opportunity to say no again, because his hands snake behind your knees and the next thing you know, you’re thrown over his shoulder and he’s racing toward the water. You yell a few times for him to stop, but it’s drowned out by your own laughter. 

Lafayette is waist deep in the water, your feet, calves, and knees sink into the water, but you grab fist fulls of his shirt in a feeble attempt to keep the rest of your body warm and dry. Your actions are made in vain, because he takes a deep breath then pulls the both of you under the waves. He lets go of you after you’ve been completely submerged and you quickly resurface. 

“I’m going to kill you,” you say as you gasp for air. 

He laughs, and it’s so warm and full you forgive his previous transgressions for just a moment. “You might want to take out a larger life insurance policy before you do that.”

Lafayette wades over to you, his hands falling to your waist. They fit there perfectly, like your body was made for his hands to hold. He pulls you into his warmth. 

“I don’t know what possessed you to drag me into this freezing water at night,” you groan, burying your face in his chest.

You can feel the soft vibrations of his laughter. “We’ve got warm, fluffy towels at home.”

Your heart flutters a little bit at the mention of home. “I do love your towels.”

“They’re your towels. I got them for you,” he admits. 

“You did?”

Lafayette rests his head on top of yours. “Got new pillows, too. And a new coffee maker.”

“Just for me?” 

“Mmhmm,” he hums softly. “I’d do anything for you.”

You sigh out the name of some deity, maybe it’s his name, and you just stop thinking. “I love you. I’m so in love with you.”

He pulls away to stare at you with wide eyes.

“What?”

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[aiyexayen]

I haven’t known true peace since I realised that Wei Wuxian actually believes this. He’s not just saying dumb shit here, or oversimplifying things to be dramatic--he truly thought of it this way, even back then. Even though nobody else did.

This line has always confused me and maybe I just haven’t given it enough thought. Maybe it’s obvious. But everyone has such a different perspective at that section of the story, including the audience. And that’s part of the tragedy of it all, really, is how much the situation was twisted up--both on purpose, by the Jins, and by simple circumstance--to the point that nobody was on the same page. But the extent of Wei Wuxian’s didn’t really hit me until recently, when puzzling back over this particular scene.

(In my defense, it was easy for me to miss until now, because it’s mixed in with Wei Ying admiring Lan Zhan admiring the moon and followed by Lan Zhan calling Wei Ying out on his “I’m fine” bullshit before carrying him down the stairs.)

At first pass, all I could think was, “Wei Wuxian, are we even watching the same show?” He and Jiang Cheng were rivals as much as they were best friends as much as they were brothers, and frequently at odds.

They never really had a “them two against the world” vibe outside of their Twin Heroes of Yunmeng promise. Wei Wuxian loved the world, and making friends, and did so freely and gladly. He and Jiang Cheng really only ever stood together against really blatant enemies like the Wen before and during the Sunshot campaign, and by the time the Jins and the rest of the prominent sect/clan leaders were at their throats, things were definitely falling apart.

They not only had a fraught childhood together in that household to begin with, but they also haven’t been truly on the same side since the fall of Lotus Pier when it all came to a head; the slow dissolution of their close bond is a huge underlying theme of the story as we suffer through the emotional torture of watching their desperate love create a wider and wider chasm between them, littered with broken promises and unspoken words as they slowly forget how to know each other.

And they really never stood together against Lan Wangji?? Ever?

While Jiang Cheng was regarding him (and every other human being and activity) as a rival for his shige’s attention and proof of his own social ineptitude (a potential cause for worry in his earnest role as sect heir and representative of his clan), Wei Wuxian was utterly enamoured. By the time Wei Wuxian had his rounds of falling-out with Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng regarded him as an ally who stood by his side for months and kept his hope alive while helping him scour the land for all traces of his missing brother and was really confused why Wei Wuxian was being a jackass.

In-between all this, they travel and fight together--all three of them--on more than one occasion, and even go to war together.

We’re frequently shown glimpses, scenes, framing, setups, that show us Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji standing together without or apart from Jiang Cheng as well. Because reasons.

From Lan Wangji’s point of view, he was never not on Wei Wuxian’s side when it counted. He just had trouble communicating this effectively at times, especially while Wei Wuxian was in a constant push-pull with himself and everyone else about what he should be allowed to want and have.

From Jiang Cheng’s point of view, Wei Wuxian was failing to be on his side again and again, and it was never really about his own loyalty, because he was the only one still keeping their promise.

And certainly by Jin Ling’s one-month celebration, they both seemed to be on the same page that they were coming together as Wei Wuxian’s important people, if not actively friends by then, and that they were of one mind in getting Wei Wuxian back around his family and back into society. One of the most shattering things anyone has ever had the nerve to tell me straight into the void that once was my heart is that they (along with Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan) were probably so excited to see Wei Wuxian and proudly show him how well they were all getting along.

So I, humble viewer of episodes, watch all of this happening, and then narrow my eyes at Wei Wuxian in disbelief. Who does he think he is? Jiang Cheng, always at his side? With Lan Wangji, always opposite?

Why does this moment of self-reflection even exist? When he could have taken this opportunity to have some kind of flashback about Lan Wangji and the moon, as the rest of us are? Is it just to torment me, in particular?

But then I thought of three things. One, his point of view at the time. Two, his point of view in this episode. And three, the phrasing of what he’s saying here.

The phrasing feels important. Wei Wuxian simply says he thought Jiang Cheng would be at his side/on his side/by his side, and he thought Lan Wangji would be opposite. Opposite doesn’t necessarily mean a direct rival or enemy. It can mean standing for the opposing viewpoint, or having an opposing position.

Given that he’s directly comparing it to how he feels right now, it makes sense. As of this episode, he’s just had his real first encounter with Jiang Cheng, and it was pretty horrible. He had to deal with Jin Ling and his curse, between now and then, but that isn’t really going to be what’s on his mind.

I might be like, “Ah, yes, running away from Jiang Cheng to go fuck off with Lan Wangji, typical Wei Wuxian scenario, even if I support it especially in this particular instance.” Jiang Cheng might feel that way, too, right down to “Thank fuck he ran away like he always does and didn’t call my bluff about killing him a thousand times over because that would have been embarrassing.”

But to Wei Wuxian, the circumstances are completely different. He’s not running off on an adventure after which he absolutely intends to return home. He’s leaving with what he sees as confirmation (which he was trying to avoid) that Jiang Cheng truly hates him, and the knowledge/reminder that he may never see him again because he will absolutely try his hardest not to. And he’s returning to Lan Wangji, who is his adventure, but also, increasingly, his home.

He can’t really think of it in those terms, yet, though. So he thinks about it as sides.

Even though they and Jiang Cheng are never truly pitted against each other in the present any more than Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were ever pitted against Lan Wangji in the past (that is to say, one or two tense scenes and mostly a lot of wibbly gray areas indicating that there’s a lot more going on in everyone’s heads), Wei Wuxian sees Lan Wangji on the “Wei Wuxian Should Not Be Dead” team and Jiang Cheng sulking on the opposite shore.

Or, at the very least, the teams are “Leave Wei Wuxian Alone” and “Wei Wuxian Needs To Fucking Stop.”

Which reminds him how different it all used to be.

And even if we’re like, “Was it, though?” that’s not his perspective on it. He didn’t see all the pieces that the rest of us saw. He never knew the lengths Lan Wangji was going to in order to try and help him, the rules he broke. He never saw the punishment Lan Wangji endured for simply visiting him. Even Jiang Cheng saw Lan Wangji stand up for him publicly after the heart-wrenching scene in the rain. Wei Wuxian never did.

He only saw Lan Wangji trying his damnedest to get him to give up demonic cultivation. He only heard Lan Wangji’s attempts to convince him to get better that he never really understood. He only ever perceived resistance and disapproval.

Wei Wuxian was expecting Lan Wangji to come and personally try to stop him at Nightless City. Wei Wuxian woke up alive and took one look at Lan Wangji (and softly gayly smiled and took a second look for good measure) and took off. Wei Wuxian woke up again with all his memories and the knowledge he was loved and missed after sixteen years and asked if Lan Wangji had ever really believed him. Wei Wuxian has been slowly coming to terms with the fact that Lan Wangji wholeheartedly and unreservedly does, now. So, to him, it’s the idea that Lan Wangji has “switched sides” as it were.

And Jiang Cheng?

Wei Wuxian thinks he and Jiang Cheng were unquestionably on the same side right up until Jiang Yanli died.

Jiang Cheng was angry, was upset, was in pain. They fought. Promises were broken. But that didn’t mean they were on opposing sides, not really, surely.

They were on the same side about questionable cultivation methods not being questioned as long as it made Yunmeng Jiang strong where it was currently weak. They were on the same side about it not being anyone else’s business. Their fight was faked, even if the separation had to be real.

Wei Wuxian was still standing by Jiang Cheng’s side in prioritising Yunmeng Jiang’s political standing. Jiang Cheng was still standing by his side in caring about their home and their sister. He brought shijie, who brought soup. And something about their public break and Jiang Cheng’s account kept the other sects from piling on Wei Wuxian right at the start.

At Nightless City, while he expected Lan Wangji to be there countering him, he did not expect any of Yunmeng Jiang to be there to actually fight him. Of course Jiang Cheng was there--how could Jiang Cheng not show up? One of the great clans? And they’re not really supposed to have anything to do with one another anymore, right? Wei Wuxian was a traitor to Yunmeng Jiang, right? Of course Jiang Cheng had to show up.

But as long as Wei Wuxian was in control of the resentful energy and puppets, not a single Yunmeng Jiang disciple, let alone Jiang Cheng himself, was so much as looked at sideways.

Jin Zixuan had been killed. Jiang Yanli would never forgive him. His found family full of innocents had been slaughtered by power-hungry hypocrites. The entire cultivation world was after his soul. He was a dead man walking. He’d been hallucinating for hours. His mind was mostly gone.

And he thought, “Lan Wangji is here to put an end to me at last. It is time to fight.”

And he thought, “Jiang Cheng is not truly part of this. I must not touch Yunmeng Jiang.”

Both of these things wound me deeply. The first, because it’s demonstrably untrue. The second, because it might not have been nearly as true as everyone (including Jiang Cheng) wishes, though at least we’ll never really have to know, will we.

And then Jiang Yanli died.

We can see the story happening in stages, the various breakdowns and buildups and breakdowns again. And we always knew this ending was coming. But to him, that’s the moment everything truly, truly broke.

Though, I feel the need to point out, hysterically, he still wasn’t opposite Jiang Cheng even then. Because Jiang Cheng, he believes, wanted him dead (even if he couldn’t do it by his own hand) just as much as Wei Wuxian wanted himself dead. And Lan Wangji did not want him dead. So he stood in solidarity with Jiang Cheng one last time, did right by Jiang Cheng and Yunmeng Jiang and their family one last time, as he yanked his hand away from Lan Wangji.

Only now, in the present, are Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng truly in opposition. And only now are Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji on the same page. Supposedly.

One of Wei Wuxian’s particular character journeys post-timeskip is finally having the concept of interpersonal nuance smashed into his head in a way that still allows him to be himself and follow his own moral codes and build relationships in his own way. His assorted encounters with Jiang Cheng leading up to their reconciliation (as well as the juniors and the sect leaders and other characters) all demonstrate that nicely.

But in this scene, it really is that straightforward to him. Hell, it’s even presented such to us for a hot minute.

If for no other reason than the direct parallel of Lan Wangji finding out about Wei Wuxian’s fear of dogs and protecting him both physically and emotionally without question, and Jiang Cheng already knowing about it but using Fairy against Wei Wuxian until it triggered him into a panic-induced ptsd flashback seriously what a fucking dick move though.

So, perhaps it’s understandable, between Wei Wuxian’s misconceptions of the past and his current experiences in the present and the fact that these are the only two people left to him in all the world.

He believes the bitter irony of fate has dictated that he can never have them both. He was only ever going to have one of them and he never considered it would truly be this one.

And for just one moment, before he can be glad of his gain, he has to mourn the inevitable loss that comes with it. For that one moment, even seeing Lan Wangji so beautiful in the moonlight, so openly and invitingly waiting for him, that’s all he can think about.

It haunts me.

[pinkflamingcreatures]

“Videodrome” and Humanity’s Technological Evolution

I think that massive doses of Videodrome signal will ultimately create a new outgrowth of the brain that will produce and control hallucination to the point that it will change human reality. After all, there is nothing real outside of our perception of reality, is there?

In 2020, many people saw their daily activities rapidly shift from in person to, suddenly, being mediated by a screen: not only meetings with coworkers, but holidays, education, concerts and even grocery shopping. This has been shocking to many, and it should be, since it represents a new way of interacting with the world being grafted onto humanity, almost like a brand new digital organ. A decade ago, you could get along fine without a cellphone, but now, everything from our friendships to our money seems to be moving towards the technological. These frightening observations may seem better suited to a science fiction novel, but they have been around much longer than the iPhone: I found them at the forefront of David Cronenberg’s Videodrome (1983)!

Videodrome is a movie about augmenting our humanity and our reality using technology. Sound familiar? This film came out almost forty years ago, and it shows - the accepted medium for sharing videos is VHS - yet it still has much to say about the age of the internet, and our relationships with our devices. The audience follows Max Renn, the CEO of a small, smutty television station, as he searches for new, shocking programs to air that will attract viewers. With the help of a “pirate” (no, this isn’t thepiratebay) who uses a satellite dish to lock onto and record television broadcasts from all over the world, Renn becomes familiar with a show called “Videodrome”: a plotless exhibition of torture and muder. 

What is unclear, and here is where Videodrome becomes conceptually fascinating, is whether or not the depictions of death in this program are simulated or not, and whether or not this matters. Renn is advised to seek out Professor Brian O’Blivion about his inquiries into Videodrome, and finds that the man only appears on television - never in person. O’Blivion’s daughter gives Renn a VHS tape to watch in which the professor pontificates thus: “The television screen is the retina of the mind’s eye. Therefore, the television is part of the physical structure of the brain. Therefore, whatever appears on the television screen emerges as raw experience for those who watch it. Therefore, television is reality. And reality is less than television.” Renn scoffs at these statements, as many audience members might, yet this line of reasoning is both provocative and valid. 

What is experienced by characters in television programs is experienced vicariously by viewers, although differently. This fact creates within viewers a novel and unique reality that exists both on the screen and within their minds. This concept isn’t specific to television; books can have a similar effect, but we interact with words on a page much differently than we do real-life images on a screen. Hearing people speak, seeing them smile, watching them die, all have a much heightened level of reality in comparison with staring at text. But to what extent is Professor O’Blivion correct when he says that television is more real than reality?

Technology allows its users to exercise a heightened level of control over their own identities. It is revealed that Professor O’Blivion is dead, and has been for almost a year, but he lives on through his tapes. He still makes television appearances, and has conversations with people. His daughter remarks that “at the end he was convinced that public life on television was more real than private life in the flesh.” O’Blivion died of a brain tumor, that he claimed were caused by “video hallucinations” - a product of watching Videodrome. Max is informed that, since he has seen Videodrome, he is also growing a brain tumor caused by his hallucinations. These visions are what allow Brian O’Blivion to communicate directly with Max - he refers to him by name, and advises him on his specific problem. He has literally been able to transfer his being to the television realm, and continue to exist beyond death. 

The internet does not allow us to exert this amount of control over our existences - not yet, that is - but people are able to present certain sides of themselves online that they may not show in person. The television show Catfish brought this particular trend to the public’s attention: there are plenty of people out there that are manipulating their internet presences, and sometimes straight-up lying about who they are, all while creating relationships with people who are ignorant of the “truth.” This is where Professor O’Blivion would tell us that other people’s perceptions of a fabricated identity online were just as real as a person in the flesh. Most people don’t abide by this logic, and are hurt when they feel that others are lying to them; O’Blivion’s perspective points to a new era of humanity that would exist entirely within screens, and be dominated by hallucinations. In other words, this new existence would allow humans to control what they saw, and how others saw them: controlled hallucinations, or, simply a manipulation of reality.

When reality is this malleable, there enters the concern of who is in control? Brian O’Blivion’s old business partners who sabotaged him enter the narrative as the antagonists, who have an evil scheme to use Videodrome as a destructive force. Of course, this is Cronenberg, and with augmented reality comes augmented physicality; Max Renn is able to open up his stomach and store things inside of himself, additionally allowing VHS tapes to be inserted in him like a video player, controlling his actions. “They can program you. They can play you like a video-tape recorder,” O’Blivion’s daughter (Bianca) tells Renn. Luckily, Bianca is able to help Max de-program himself (in an awesome scene where a television screen literally mirrors his torso), giving him a new objective and catchy tagline: “Death to Videodrome. Love live the new flesh!”

Renn’s triumph over those who would wish to make a robot assassin out of him is an encouraging look at the new age for the modern viewer. Things aren’t as cut in dry in a world where physical media has become virtually obsolete. How can I know if I’m being controlled by my devices, and to what end? To what extent have my devices become an outgrowth of myself, in the same way that video hallucinations cause brain outgrowths in Videodrome? As we spend more and more time interacting with screens, it may become necessary to step back and ask ourselves where this relationship is headed, and whether or not it’s positive. Brian O’Blivion was incredibly optimistic about “the next phase of man as a technological animal,” that is, until the wrong people took over for the wrong reasons. Maybe the question we should be asking in addition to “Do I want to see human evolution continue down this path?” is “Who is in control of this path, and why?”

[alwaysthinkingoutloud]

Hannibal Episode-by-Episode Meta/Analysis: Episode 1, Season 1 (Apéritif)

The series start with Will Graham in a crime scene doing what he does, which is resurrecting crime scenes for further evidence and possible insight into the criminal’s mind and motives. What is interesting about this first scene is that for a first-time viewer, for the first a few minutes, it is not clear if what we are watching is a possible reenactment or it is actually a memory. That doubt gets cleared in a minute but until then, we don’t know if he is imagining or is he remembering. Is he a guy with a powerful imagination helping FBI who literally puts himself into the killer’s shoes or is he the killer itself, hiding in plain sight? To my thinking, the very first opening to the story does say a lot about the end of it all as well.

“This is my design”

Why not say plan, but design instead? Planning is something mechanical, strategical. It is the result of motive and effort of a rational brain rather than an acted-on urge. There is no much room for subjectivity or creativity since efficiency is the ultimate goal. However, design has a more artistical ring to it. It is like, its prior aim is not to be useful, but to be beautiful. Designing is done when aesthetics is of concern. We would say, Michelangelo designed David, plan would not look right there. It would be accurate as for explaining the mathematical part of it, the disciplined and patient hours that has been put into it, but it would not do justice to the inspiration, passion, and desperate need of the artist for his creation to materialize. A planner would not adore his work, but a designer would. And Will understands the difference a bit too well.

Later, talking with Jack Crawford, we learn that Will finds the name of Evil Minds Research Museum “hammy”. I do not think there is anything hammy about the name, it’s quite literal. It is not an ennobler name but why does Will find it so though? Does creativity and originality need to be perceived as abhorrent just because it was given birth by someone evil? This all-cautious way of approaching and overthinking things is a reflection of something dark within. Afterall, what is seen has at least a little to do with the seeing eyes, if not more.

Jack exhibits a disturbingly dominant way of communication with Will. He corrects Will’s eyeglasses, the guy who he knows is not comfortable with any kind of interpersonal interaction, within the minutes of their chat and holds down his bag to slow down his moving on. He is trying to make sure that Will feels Jack is the alpha and also that deep down, Will does not have the option to not cooperate. And more Will gets convinced to help for one step, stronger Jack drags Will into it for one more.

The first time we see Will interacting with any victim-related people, it is confusing. Being an empath and claiming that he can not only relate to narcissists and sociopaths but anyone, he does not seem to empathize much with the victim’s parents, cutting into the conversation about parents’ doubts on their daughter’s likelihood of being alive with a non-emotional, case related question. It almost makes you question if his ability to emphathize is just stronger with the dark side of the force than it is with the light one. Yes, the primer focus is to catch the killer and stop whatever malice is going on but after all, Jack came to Will with the need of help, so Jack must care about the case resolving more than he does. Yet, Jack seems more understanding of the parents’ feelings than Will, although Will is an ultimate empath. We even see Jack’s disapproval when Will cuts into the conversation. It is a brow mover.

Next, we get more insight about Will as he meets Winston. He finds him on the road roaming, tries to get close to him but cannot, so he drives all the way to his home to get something to lure him with and comes back to the dog. He is willing to go lengths to add a new dog to his pack, to his ‘family’, to his ‘social circle’. Something he is not willing nor comfortable to do for a person. Will's preferring an animal's company to a person's may say more than obvious. Afterall, he chooses Hannibal over Jack too, doesn't he?

Will who has already started to get traumatized by the case, is ambushed in the bathroom by Jack with an unforgiving mobbing, forcing ideas out of Will and stirring him up in the expense of his stability. Later on in his little chat with Alana, Jack’s intentions and priorities are further put into perspective. The way he talks about Will shows that for him, Will is more of a means to an end than an actual colleague. His insistence about “putting Will out there” despite Alana’s warnings and his admission of not being absolutely capable of protecting Will’s mental health just crowns that he does not genuinely care about Will. In fact, he even knows the risk of what he is doing, and he is trying to draw Dr. Bloom in to share, if not all together blame it on, the responsibility if something may go wrong.

We finally meet Hannibal in his office in a therapy session with his patient. The look Dr. Lecter throws when Franklyn blows his nose and places the dirty napkin onto the table… Up to this scene, we were not given any clue to suggest that Hannibal Lecter is a killer but after all, we do know who he is. And him being the first actual predator in the series we meet, we do not see him acting on brute violence or inelegant butchering. His first reaction depicted is unrest against rudeness. So the audience is welcomed into the mind of Lecter with an easily apprehensible act that can be shared by almost anyone. Almost to suggest that, this act of Franklyn’s may be enough to justify a wrath that may come upon him.

Jack shows up in Hannibal’s office unannounced and mistakes Franklyn with Hannibal. Hannibal, of course slightly annoyed, tells Jack to wait in the waiting room and invites him in with his own timing. Being a bossy and dominant guy he is, this takes Jack by surprise and it also tells us that there is an even stronger alpha here. So Jack realizes he cannot dominate Hannibal into his will like he did with Will. He may have to try something else. As Jack asks questions that are getting more specific and personal as they come, we see Hannibal getting cautious. Taking his scalpel into his hand and eyes widening. He lowers his guard only when he learns that he was referred to Jack by Dr. Bloom, his eyes visibly getting smaller, which are almost the only window to his thoughts anyway. So after seeing the sophisticated aura leaking not only out of Hannibal but everything around him, Jack chooses to sweet talk him into cooperation.

When Jack, Hannibal and Will first come together in a room, it is the first time in the show where Will makes such a long, non-blinked eye contact with someone, that being Hannibal. And we see mixed emotions and thoughts on Hannibal’s face. He is amused, intrigued and curious at the same time with the way Will thinks. He makes a quick analyze of Will which results in making him fling out of the room. Being the controlled, non-impulsive, strategic guy he is; even Hannibal himself is a little surprised with the sudden blurbing of his perception of Will. So maybe this first scene having Will and Hannibal together is another kind of first as well with both men doing something not typically them.

Hannibal, telling Jack that “he may help Will see the cannibal’s face”, he copies the crime of Minnesota Shrike. At the first look, this looks like an attempt of toying with the FBI and confusing them. But considering Hannibal’s last conversation with Jack, this feels more like a tribute, a helping hand for Will. Hannibal knows that Will would know that this is not the same killer the second he sees the crime scene. As Will later says to Hannibal, this was done to show Will a negative so that he could see the positive. So, we see from this point on that Hannibal’s wit does not focus on FBI, it does on Will. We see Hannibal eating and smiling, joyous of the fact that he now has an object of interest. Will imagining of a stag right after this, as stag will be the subconscious symbol of the Chesapeake Ripper / Copycat Killer before Will knows who he is and later when he does, of Hannibal; it shows that Hannibal literally entered his life and mind in more than one way.

Hannibal shows up in Will’s house very early and obviously very impatiently. So he does not only plan to interfere Will with being the Copycat Killer but through his ‘person suit’ as well. Feeding Will the meat of the girl he killed is also exciting for Hannibal as this manipulation game he has set to play with Will gets to be sicker for a normal human perception.

The breakfast scene is also the first time where Hannibal is looking for some ill-intent or killing inclination in Will, while Will denies having so. He wonders how much being able to empathize with killers say about Will’s own potential to do so. Hannibal suggests that Jack is treating Will as he is “a fragile little teacup, only used for special guests”. And that he himself sees him as “a mongoose that he would want under the house when snakes slither by”. He suggests that Will is not a pray that should be afraid to get hurt, that he is the predator. By that Hannibal does not only encourage the destructiveness Will may be trying hard to keep buried to come alive, but also the false perception that Will’s mind is strong enough to take any challenge Jack may throw his way.

Hannibal warning Garret Jacob Hobbs is literally setting the pieces in position of his will to get Will where and how he wants. He does not know what will be waiting in Hobbs’ house for Will but in the end, it does not matter so much since he just wants to see what happens.

When they arrive at the house, seeing Hobbs leaving his wife on the threshold her throat cut, Hannibal stands still. Is it because he is so confident that Will will be too frantic to ever look back and notice that, or is it because deep down he just does not feel like putting his person suit on in front of Will? I think both. When Will shots Hobbs and tries to tend Abigail on the floor, Hannibal walks in and sees Will caring hard for the girl. Hannibal’s face looks curious about what is going on but more than that, again, his focus is on Will more than it is on anything else. He sees all these humane emotions that Hannibal himself has always been somewhat stranger too on Will, those emotions that he thought, cannot come in a package with all the destructive ones. But maybe they can. And those emotions may even look nice. Because it almost does on Will. Although how the events would turn out Hannibal did not know, it was certain that the way he pushed things, there would be blood and there would be Will doing something that will change him one way or the other. After all, they have undergone a traumatic (for Will) and exciting (for Hannibal) circumstance together and it is a known fact that people who experience a significant situation together tend to develop emotional bonds. Maybe this was the least of what Hannibal hoped for. If that was the case, he got more than he wished. Will got to kill someone even if it was for a just reason and there happened to be an orphaned girl that Will desperately bonded the moment he killed her father, who maybe a manipulative tool for Hannibal in his game. The last scene where Will finds Hannibal holding Abigail’s hand in the hospital room highlights this perfectly. Now, Hannibal and Will has a mutual asset that Hannibal may use to draw Will closer to himself despite of Will’s initial reservations to do so.

[petiteyoon]

bunny ears — yoonkook | 10

⚠️ ATTENTION : This chapter contains described smut ! If you're a minor or uncomfortable with this, please read until the cut. The story won't be compromised.

A/N: it's a little short without the smut part, I'm sorry :cc I hope you like it. It's been a while since I've really wrote something, sooo constructive criticism is well accepted!💜

10: 100% brat tamer

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SUMMARY

-> fic type: social media au

-> pairing: rapper!yoongi x camboy!jungkook

-> genre: crack, smut, maybe angst

-> warnings: swearing

-> plot: Yoongi uses masturbation as stress relief and he has a favorite camboy: bunnybun. Everything's fine until Hoseok mistakenly exposes him for this.

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09 <- masterlist -> 11

Warnings : smut, male masturbation, non-con voyeurism? (idk,, jungkook jerks off while watching yoongi on screen), it gets pretty intense towards the end, lil angst because poor koo regrets what he has done </3

Word count : 1k more or less

Two hours earlier

“Actually… I'm going to start in a few minutes” Jungkook muttered while setting up his computer, his phone squished between his right ear and shoulder. “What? No! -he furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched up his nose- I don't want you to watch, Taehyung” he rolled his eyes.

Taehyung kept bugging him about watching his camshow; a thing he never did and a thing that Jungkook, of course, won't ever allow. It would be awkward!

While he sat on the couch he turned on the TV and kept changing channels, while Taehyung, on the other hand, kept talking and talking. There was nothing interesting today. He huffed, until he came across a programme with some boys dressed rather weirdly.

He squinted his eyes, as if he wasn't able to see at that distance, and he immediately recognized the guy in the front row. Yoongi? What was he doing there?

With a quick movement, Jungkook grabbed his phone properly and stopped Taehyung from talking “Whatever Tae… maybe next time. I have to go now, see ya” he pressed the hang up button and threw the phone on the other side of the couch. He stood there, with his mouth slightly open, trying to process what he was seeing. Glancing at the clock, he shook his head and focused on his computer, trying not to get distracted by those boys. He muted the TV and started his live. He angled the webcam so his viewers couldn't see his face, as usual.

Jungkook never showed his face anywhere, because he knew that it could compromise his working life. And because he was too fucking shy for that.

However, this timid behavior captured the viewers' attention, so he became more brave and tried to change from the normal shows he did, to please his audience. His live streams were mainly about him jerking off, but sometimes he liked to push his limits a bit further… and Jimin even helped him with that a few times, but only after a hard process of convincing the bunny boy in question. At this point he tried many things such as toys, vibrators, buttplugs, ropes and handcuffs, and pathetic costumes that made the viewers go crazy.

He waited for a few minutes, watching how the comments flew in the right part of the screen. He pinched his bottom lip with his thumb and index finger, deep in thought. Was he going to let the program play in the background while he entertained his fans? With Yoongi there dressed so nicely?

Yeah the jackets and pants were fucking ridiculous in his opinion, but Yoongi made every piece of clothing fashionable if he was the one wearing it. He tried to focus on his audience, eager to see him in his most vulnerable (and hot) state. He stretched his arms, flexing his muscles and reading all the comments, “I see y'all missed me that much huh…” he grinned, licking his lips.

A lot of comments were rushing past the screen and in that moment Jungkook decided it was time to start.

He slipped his left hand under his black shirt, stroking his chest until it felt too hot to keep that on. He quickly stripped himself, throwing away his shirt and unbuckling his belt, showing his thick thighs. His dick rested heavy against his boxers, waiting to be released.

“Even if I've been absent for some time I'm afraid I can't stay long with you tonight…” Jungkook murmured as he absent-mindedly stroked his clothed member, “I hope you didn't get too much fun without me” he pouted as he gripped his tip, a hiss came out of his mouth right away.

“Where's the maid dress you ask? I forgot to put it on” he chuckled and slowly slipped a hand under his boxers “I will use it next time, I promise…” his tone became more sultry as he started to pleasure himself.

Small waves of pleasure circulated from his head to his toes, focusing around his crotch area, causing his eyes to shut and his head to roll back. He hastily removed the last annoying piece of clothing, finally showing to his audience what they were craving for.

Comments rushed even more quickly, whining and pleading for him to keep going. Jungkook knew how to keep them glued to their screen with his power bottom energy. One thing everyone was crazy about was the fact that he seemed so tough and dominant, but after some dirty words or touches? His fake persona would vanish, only to reveal a sweet boy with a really sensitive dick. And, boy, did he like when someone played along with him.

However, this wasn't the case since he didn't have much time at the moment, and since Jimin wasn't there to help him like the other times, so he had to settle just with his virtual company.

Or maybe it was his television being so distracting that threatened to make him crumble? He tried so hard to focus on the lovely words of his viewers but everytime, with the corner of his eye, he saw it. He watched him.

His quick breathing was the only thing audible in the living room, as well as the slightly wet sound of his hand gripping his lubricated shaft. His left hand reached his chest as he started to play with one of his nipples, a quiet moan slipping out of his lips. He slowed down and started to focus on his red tip, dripping with precum, and suddenly a buzz of pleasure made him twitch. As his thumb kept circling the area to keep up with that blissful feeling, he finally gave in.

His eyes shot open and moved towards the tv. Even if he couldn't hear anything, his eyes were more than enough. Those feline, cold eyes that seemed to pierce through his soul. The way his mouth would twitch in a small smile, only for his lips to be licked soon after by his tongue. And how badly he wanted to have that wet and velvety feeling all over his body.

The thing that made Jungkook almost laugh was that he didn't even know him that much. Heck, he even was Jimin's ex! And maybe he won't even hear from him anymore after what he discovered but, God, was he so attractive. He would give him his whole body, his weak self would let Yoongi do everything to him.

At this point Jungkook was jerking off at a rapid pace, without bothering about the comments or the show anymore. His eyes were solely focused on the brown-haired man in front of him. He felt so dirty about his actions… Yoongi was so perfectly unaware of what he was doing to him, of the raw feelings he was making him feel, of how quickly Jungkook would submit to him.

Jungkook already felt near the edge as he was desperately chasing his orgasm, releasing all kinds of moans from his lips; he was so fucking shameless as he pleaded Yoongi to take him as if he was there. He was completely in his own little world. He swears he maybe even called his name while he was so lost in his pleasure. Doing this while he was just observing his beautiful face felt really intense, he never did this kind of thing; it almost seemed sinful.

The last straw was when Yoongi locked his eyes with the camera for a moment; as his pupils slowly shifted, Jungkook felt like the boy was really watching him. He suddenly felt vulnerable and hopeless. What would Yoongi think if he saw him like this?

A sudden heat exploded on his cheeks and his ears were on fire. His eyes were wide open, taken off guard. It felt like there was a connection between them and it was all it took to bring Jungkook over the edge. As a blinding pleasure pulsated from the base of his cock, his thighs clenched and his hips thrusted upwards, hot strings of white cum painted his honey glowing skin as he rapidly stroked his strained member. He tried his best not to shout that name, even if he wanted to do that so badly, covering it with loud moans. As he came down his high, for a moment he found himself staring at the ceiling, his chest moving up and down as he felt completely weared out.

With heavy breathing he read a few comments and decided to call it a day. He kindly said goodbye to his viewers and ended the livestream.

He brought one of his fingers up to his lips, sucking the digits clean, tasting himself. He glanced at the TV again and turned the volume up, a whimper escaped from his lips the moment he heard Yoongi talking.

What he did was really wrong. He felt like he wasn't capable of looking at Yoongi in the same way as before and he felt so guilty. How could he masturbate while watching a person? A person that he kinda knew?

He wasn't a thirsty fan that jerked off with the photos of his favorite singers, goddammit. He wasn't a teenager in the middle of his puberty. And most importantly, he shouldn't be aroused by his best friend's ex, who didn't even want to deal with him! And who was an Asshole, with a capital A.

He reached for some tissues to wipe the dried cum from his chest and tossed it away with a heavy sigh.

He sat there, still with his crotch exposed as he started at the black screen of his computer, shame slowly consuming him, the faint sound of the TV still going on in the room.

How was he supposed to look at Jimin now? Should he tell him? He really messed up this time.

[what-do-1000-swords-look-like]

So I read this very interesting post that was pro-Jonerys written around the time after season 7 aired, I think. It was very well-written and explored examples of Jon’s growing feelings for Dany all throughout season 7. But when I saw the examples used, I thought “oh man, this is the trap the show set and this awesome person unfortunately fell right into it.” Jonerys was meant to get our attention, to hide what was really happening with Dany behind the scenes so to speak but then shove it into the forefront in 8x05 so we would supposedly feel a jarring impact from Dany’s dark turn that we weren’t supposed to see coming. And while this person didn’t have season 8 to work with at the time (and I totes understand, season 7 was one big ball of confusing and guesswork not just for Jonerys but also other characters/story lines as well), I wanted to take another look at their examples (while also including some of my own) of Jon’s feelings for Dany in that 7th season.

Example 1):

This is meant to call to the audience a growing attraction between Jon and Dany, and tension. But notice it’s the physical Davos is mentioning here. Not that Dany is a great queen or her good heart that Jon is supposedly taking interest in. It’s a physical attraction. This is also important as it will come into play later in 8x01. 

And notice how it’s Davos to bring the subject up, not Jon. This cements this is the show trying to sell the GA something, an idea, that will then later come to fruition once its “product” is sold and the GA start embracing the idea.

Example 2):

This isn��t someone who is deep in love. Dany isn’t in love here either. This is him hoping that she’ll understand how important her joining the fight is, that these cave drawings are what will cement that joining as allies against the Night King. And it almost seems as if yes, she now understands and they can work together and you can see Jon is hopeful, which she immediately dashes when saying “I will fight for you. I will fight for the North...when you bend the knee.” You can even see Jon’s disappointment after this statement.

This scene is not Jon being jealous. This is Jon studying the interaction between Jorah and Dany. Remember, this scene is on the heels of a semi-disagreement that Dany and Jon are having after she’s returned from the battle with the Lannister army. Dany is trying to convince him that she did the right thing and when she sees he’s not immediately agreeing, she gets annoyed and tries to convince him further. Then Jorah shows up. This is a side to Dany that Jon still has yet to see. Dany immediately becomes soft, is affected by it that we even see her eyes become slightly teary and she smiles, and even hugs Jorah by the end of it. This is still the Khaleesi, the Breaker Of Chains, the Mother Of Dragons even, but this is also Dany, young Dany who Jorah met back at her wedding to Drogo. This is the side of her Jon has never seen before, that he and (from what he sees) Tyrion and Varys have not been able to access. But suddenly Jorah shows up and she’s practically purring (that’s not a dig or a slight, it’s truth, her soft side came out in this scene, Emilia showcased the difference brilliantly). Because Jon still doesn’t have Dany’s promise of support yet and he can’t leave yet, it’s no wonder that he’s studying the one person that seems to bring out that side of her. And it’s also no coincidence that Jon ends up stepping into a role similar to Jorah’s in the last season. Jon is who Jorah would have become for Dany had she been able to return his feelings.

Example 3):

Yes, in the 7x06 script, it is confirmed that in this moment, after seeing Dany grieving Viserion, Jon realizes he does have feelings for her. We already know there was a growing physical attraction between them as stated by Davos above but now after seeing how Dany came to save them, he realizes okay this is who Missandei was talking about, this is who Jorah is in love with. And sure enough, we see Dany pledge to fight the Night King with him, without needing him to bend the knee. This is the same Dany the audience is charmed by, the same Dany that is fiercely stanned, the Mother Of Dragons, the Khaleesi and Breaker Of Chains, the queen many have chosen. Do I think here that Jon is head over heels? No. I think he does have feelings though that are growing, that he is starting to feel love, but it’s not an all-consuming passion and love. 

Example 4) Boatsex:

Okay, before we delve into this, I want to show you something:

It is a common trope or theme that in a romance, the first kiss is shown. Whether it happens passionately or is just a small peck on the lips or an accidental smooshing, it’s always shown. Hence here are other examples of romances written on the show:

(I couldn’t find a gif of the cave scene above)

Regardless of how these pairings above ended up, regardless of these first kisses leading right into sex or not, they had build-up before that first kiss and more importantly, that first kiss is shown. These are romantic-coded relationships meant to be read romantically by the viewers as, you guessed it, romances. 

This is not a romance:

Gif credit

The door is closed and the next scene we get is Dany and Jon mid-makeout, naked on the bed. The first kiss is not shown. Considering how they built up other romances on the show, if Jonerys was the “it” couple and the true romance of the show, if both loved each other so passionately, this was a very important element that they “missed”. Something that has nothing to do with the chemistry between the actors or bad writing or bad editing. It was purposely “missed”.

This scene below comes after that rolling around and a lot of people think it’s Jon gazing down on his beloved before that special moment:

I hate to burst anyone’s bubble but that’s not what this moment is. What you’re seeing is Dany is deep in this relationship happening (it’s clear as day on her face, again Emilia is just brilliant), Jon sees this and hesitates for a moment (most likely feeling somewhat guilty because his feelings are not as deep as hers but he can see how deep this is for her, notice how he keeps studying her face in the second gif), and then makes the decision to go through with it. And all during this, we have Bran’s voiceover revealing who Jon really is. Not to mention the obvious sexual positioning, it starts out with Dany on Jon’s side but over him and then he rolls them over and that’s how the sexual encounter progresses.

Dany who Doreah taught that “love comes in at the eyes”. Notice how Jon chooses to kiss Dany as they start doing the deed so their eyes are closed due to the kissing. Then compare it to the sex scene Dany has with Drogo in the tent (after Doreah’s lesson) back in season 1, where Dany is on top and in control, where she stares into Drogo’s eyes. Now rewatch the boatsex scene again. Jon was in control here. 

This moment is not meant to be read a true romantic moment. You know how I know that?

This:

There was absolutely no reason to show us (the audience) Tyrion’s reaction during the love scene. Yes, I’m sure there is some jealousy and concern over how this will go but in order for the one true romance of the show to have their moment, why are we shown an outside character’s reaction not once but twice? It’s not as if there is a love triangle happening between Jon, Dany, and Tyrion. So why show us? Their love scene already has an “interrupting” factor with Bran’s voiceover that they try to mix in with the love theme of “Truth”, so why add this, too? 

Because it’s not going to end well. Because it’s not a pure two-sided, mutually deep romance.

And on top of that, this interview with Peter is very telling. “He loves her -- or thinks he does.” “She’s awe inspiring.” “He knows the two of them getting together could be very dangerous.” -> this relationship or getting together will not end well

“He loves her -- or thinks he does.” “She’s awe inspiring.” -> this is the way it’s been going the whole show is the arc of Dany in the show that most people feel enamored with from characters in the show to every last GA member, the Khaleesi, the Breaker Of Chains, the Mother Of Dragons - this is who Tyrion fancies himself in love with, who he supports and has faith in; this is who Jorah is head over heels in love with; this is Missandei’s queen who she & the others have chosen; this is who Jon has started to have feelings for (as per the 7x06 script confirmation) and loves by the time they get to Winterfell. In the end, though, Dany is no longer the Khaleesi or Breaker Of Chains and has even surpassed the Mother Of Dragons arc in that she uses Drogon purely as a weapon after 8x04. 

Example 5):

Going back to what Davos said up above in Example 1, we get this scene in 8x01. We see Jon and Dany being viewed by Tyrion, Davos, and Varys, while making commentary. Notice again how Davos is the one to mention a possible union of the two, ruling the 7K together. Yet, while we see what appears to be a nice moment that these guys are viewing between the couple, we purposefully are not able to hear what is being said between them, and are viewing them from a distance like these guys are. Why? Because the show is selling/pitching you the idea once again through Davos while he is selling Tyrion and Varys on the idea of a union.

When we do eventually join Dany and Jon down there, what do we see? Dany telling Jon that Sansa doesn’t like her, Jon trying to reassure her, and then her subtly threatening if Sansa doesn’t respect her... 

All of this was to show you that from the outside looking in, Jon and Dany seem to be the perfect power couple, the ultimate romance (despite the Targaryen secret). But when we actually do go inside, not all is as it appears to be.

You know what reinforces that idea? This:

Jon and Dany actually had a semi-romantic moment, after displaying that the actors did indeed have chemistry in their banter before Jon rides Rhaegal, and boom, Drogon “interrupts”. To the point where Jon positions Dany in between them and keeps an eye open as he kisses Dany, watching Drogon warily. Once again, not only will this romance not end well, but it’s not a true romance. Drogon is clearly watching and you almost get a sense of distrust or at the very least, wariness. If Drogon is sentient enough to not kill Jon after he kills Dany, then he is sentient enough in this scene and that begs the question, just what is he thinking? 

Example 6):

This scene, Jon says “She shouldn’t be alone” when Varys tells him how Dany has stayed in her room, locked away in her grief. This isn’t Jon saying this because he’s love struck. This is Jon being compassionate and more importantly, because he’s thinking of a certain line said to him by this man:

“A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.” And this is after he says, “No one to guide her.”

Jon now knows that he is the only family she has left in the world and now Jorah and Missandei are gone, leaving her with only Grey Worm, Varys, Tyrion, and himself to guide her. This is why Jon stayed by Dany’s side despite any amount of fear he had, despite her turning into dark!Dany at the end and leaving the Khaleesi, the Breaker Of Chains, and the Mother Of Dragons behind. He cared about her, plain and simple, but he was not head over heels in love. The show did a terrible job portraying that, because it was more interested in hiding Dany’s dark turn (while also giving hints so it’s weird why they chose to try to hide it at all) and keeping something also hidden about Jon (maybe pol!Jon? or maybe that Jon wasn’t as in love with her as she was with him? or maybe that he ultimately is the one to end up killing her? I don’t know, again, weird they gave all these hints but still kept it hidden, again, terrible job).

This doesn’t take away from the attraction he felt to Dany or any feelings of love that he had for her up to the end. He just wasn’t in love. Sure, he was awed by her like Tyrion, like Jorah, like mostly everyone else had been up until season 7. Dany’s line in 7x07 confirms this, when telling Jon about the dragons in the dragonpit: “They inspired awe and wonder. They were extraordinary.” And then she came to Westeros, a place where they had seen dragons before (think Aegon, the dragonpit, the dragon skulls in the basement of the Red Keep, the Targaryen tombs in the Sept, Aerys, Rhaegar), where Jon tells Dany if she uses the dragons (in 7x04) then she’ll “just be more of the same.” Dany’s line to Jon in 8x04 cinches it: “People have looked at me that way before. But never here. Never on this side of the sea.” The North (and Westeros) were never going to see her as the Khaleesi or the Breaker Of Chains. “The North remembers.” And the first thing Dany does when going to King’s Landing for a ceasefire talk, she rides Drogon to the dragonpit meeting. (It was smart and safer for her to do so, but Drogon of course lets out an intimidating roar before leaving, this is a land that is happy for Targaryens to remain out of power despite Cersei or the Starks or any other family). So it’s no surprise that Dany never experienced “love” in Westeros. Her dragons “overshadowed” her other two personas and once her dark turn happened (and lbr, she was on the verge of all season 8), there was no chance for the people to love her and accept her for either of those two arcs. Same goes for her relationship with Jon. Jon wasn’t ready to kill her after she massacred King’s Landing, he was actually defending her (which was very out of character and then was later confirmed by Bryan Cogman and Kit Harington as Jon being used as the audience mouthpiece and Tyrion was the writers’), ready to stand at her side, even if she chose to kill him later on. Only when it comes to his sisters, only when Dany unknowingly confirms that they indeed won’t have a choice in her new world, does he choose to act. 

The show’s mistake in that scene was keeping Dany a sympathetic character until the end, which negated the moral of her story. But their even bigger mistake was using dialogue to callback to season 1 Dany, the same Dany the GA and Jon cared about, in a bid to make it a more tragic moment. It made it more tragic alright, but not in the way they were hoping. 

Ship and let ship is my philosophy. So if you enjoy the idea of Jonerys, by all means, you do you. But sadly, this show really almost baited the audience with this idea of this ultimate tragic romance when it was anything but. Personally, this is why I’m anti-Jonerys. More than any other reason, this is why. The relationship wasn’t a good one for either Jon or Dany. And in my opinion, it wouldn’t have worked out even if Dany had lived, even if Dany hadn’t gone dark and burned down King’s Landing. This romance in this particular showverse was never going to be a love story for the ages. It was never meant to be.

tldr; Jon did care about Dany, had feelings, but he wasn’t in love with her. The show pulled the old bait and switch with it. They showed you a power couple that was supposed to enamor you and then break your heart, but then revealed it was never going to be the ultimate romance and negated the true moral of Dany’s story alongside Jon’s character with it.

[sqewed0722]

MR. QUEEN:  POST-SERIES THOUGHTS

Mr. Queen ended on episode 20 to very high ratings, its popularity spawning two spinoff episodes. Kudos to the cast, especially to drama leads Kim Jung Hyun and Shin Hye Sun who played their characters very well.

One thing about the drama that I think made it a hit was the comedy.  The whole cast, especially, Shin Hye Sun, were pitch-perfect in their comedic timing.  Hye Sun was especially convincing as Jang Bong Hwan, a 21st century man in a Joseon woman's body, down to her mannerisms and tone.  And she was equally convincing when she shifted to the character of the young Joseon Queen Cheorin, otherwise known as Kim So Yong.  I've never seen Hye Sun's other works before but she made me a fan with this drama.  She isn't exactly as physically gorgeous as other actresses but she has this genuine prettiness and a certain appeal that grows on you the longer you look at her. And it helps a lot that she has this bright smile.  She kind of resembles Moon Geun Yeong, especially in those scenes when she dressed as the young nobleman Lee Saeng Mang.  It reminded me of Geun Yeong in Painter Of The Wind.    

Shin Hye Sun somehow managed to convey the conflict and emotional turmoil of Kim So Yong over her duty to her clan and the genuine love that she felt for her husband.   At the same time, when she was Jang Bong Hwan, she was able to portray his cockiness, arrogance and supreme self-confidence.  When she flirted with the concubines and the court maids, it didn't come off as icky and uncomfortable because what the viewer saw was a man stuck in a woman's body.  It was like watching a person in a costume.  Yet she was able to show the shift to So Yong's character with a slight change in her facial expression or the look in her eyes.  Despite the drama's genre, Shin Hye Sun still managed to pull off a highly nuanced portrayal of two people with distinct personalities.  

Kim Jung Hyun as King Cheoljeong was also effective in portraying a seemingly inept and weak king who actually hid a keen intelligence and strong will.  You could see his anger and outrage during those moments when he felt powerless against his opponents.  And it was quite charming and heartwarming to watch him slowly fall for his queen, confused over her straightforward character and strange speech, yet finding himself drawn to her because of them.  

And therein lies my point of dissatisfaction with this drama.  I think it became too engrossed with the comedy of So Bong (the Bong Hwan/So Yong composite) and the romance with Cheoljeong, that it failed to dig deeper and show the viewers the conflict and dilemma of these two distinct persons forced to occupy the same body.  It never really explained why Bong Hwan and So Yong's souls just happened to end up finding each other and sharing one body.  Was Bong Hwan a descendant of So Yong and Cheoljeong?  Or was he her reincarnated self?

And what about that glaring plot hole of how Cheoljeong will reconcile his queen’s character to the person he fell in love with once Bong Hwan’s soul is gone from her body? Although he never really believed that there was another person in her all along, he still felt that there was something missing in the end.   Was So Yong’s sudden moments of expressive speech supposed to convince the viewers that her true personality, the one that had been forced into hiding because of her upbringing and the expectations put on her, is very similar to Bong Hwan, although in a female version?  

 There should have been moments of confrontation between Bong Hwan and So Yong when her soul had reawakened, and a moment when they both made the conscious decision to help Cheoljeong because they both genuinely cared for him and believed in him.  (Like all the other viewers, I do believe Bong Hwan grew fond of Cheoljeong, over and above the influence of So Yong's own emotions, although I never saw his own feelings for Cheoljeong as romantic.)  I think this lack of interaction between Bong Hwan and So Yong made the end feel tacked on for me, sort of a deus ex machina. All of a sudden, we are made to believe that So Yong had been conscious all along inside her mind, even as Bong Hwan occupied it with her.  Suddenly, we are told that those moments when So Bong was being affectionate towards the king, especially those moments when they became physically intimate, were all So Yong.  So I guess that explains why Bong Hwan always blacked out during those times and never remembered anything when he regained consciousness. But it would have helped if the foundation for such a plot development was laid down along the way.

And what happened to Bong Hwan's own life in his own time?  We are just shown in the last episode that he was a victim of the corruption of politician Han Pyo-jin, a descendant of another Mr. Han whom he met when he was in So Yong’s body.  It would have been good if there were also scenes showing Bong Hwan’s life as a high-flying chef, to allow the audience to better appreciate him as a person, distinct from So Bong.  

In fact, I think the spinoff episodes would have been a lot better if they were made to focus on the backstories of these two main characters.  There was a brief portion showing So Yong’s stubborn insistence to see Cheoljeong before her selection and by doing so, giving herself the chance to evaluate if she still wanted to be his queen.  Perhaps it was meant to show that she was actually a strong-headed and willful young woman.  Why couldn’t they have used these special episodes to show more of So Yong and Bong Hwan’s stories, and even Cheoljeong’s backstory, instead of those scenes of the other characters?  To me, those extra scenes were just funny, but served no actual purpose to the story.

All in all, Mr. Queen was a fun ride, the kind of drama that made me laugh.  It made me discover Shin Hye Sun, and re-introduced me to Kim Jung Hyun (whom I first watched in CLOY but never really liked as Go Seung Jun). Both of them are excellent actors and I look forward to their future projects.  I do hope they get to work together again, but this time in a different genre, maybe a serious drama.  

The key to enjoying Mr. Queen is not to ask it for more than it can give, and to find the hidden gems in what would otherwise have been just another comedy fusion sageuk.