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hoo-n-i-ki · 4 months ago

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Cold One. (Chapter 2)

Anyone but her.

PAIRING - Volturi!Riki x Cullen!fem!reader

GENRE - Twilight AU

CHAPTER WC - 7801 (I got carried away)

WARNINGS - Vampires, graphic violence, blood, death (like a lot of it). Very plot heavy. Morally grey Riki (this is a complete work of fiction and is in no way a representation of him).

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The throne room is silent, save for the footsteps of a messenger approaching the dais. The hooded figure kneels before the three kings. Aro, perched on his throne, eagerly extends a cold hand for the messenger to press his own against.

Excitement flickers in Aro’s eyes—then, he laughs.

“Well, well,” he muses. “Carlisle has turned another for the first time nearly a century.”

Riki, leaning against the carved stone walls with his arms crossed, finally looks up. Very little intrigues him after exactly 200 years of this life, but hopefully this is something as rousing as the Cullens’ hybrid debacle from 18 years ago.

Caius scoffs in distaste. “I assume this one will be another vegetarian?”

“If Carlisle turned them, he must believe they’ll adapt to his way of life,” Jane says simply from the side, youthful face as stony as ever.

“Pity. Setting up yet another for an eternity of insatiability.” Marcus shakes his head.

Aro hums. “What do you think, Mind Stealer?”

Riki’s crimson gaze meets the ancient ones. “He’s sired several, before.” He shrugs.

“Such apathy,” Caius sneers.

“Someone has to keep an eye on the bigger picture.”

Through his several altercations with them, Riki knows that this coven doesn’t seek trouble, but they’re always at the center of it, and it always finds its way to Volterra.

They are a family of honor. As honorable as he once was.

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

Present day.

The crack of thunder drowns out the sound of the victim’s screams.

You finish feasting on the redhead, and toss her corpse into a nearby dumpster like she’s nothing but an empty sack.

To be fair, that is true.

Let the cops find her. Even on the off chance that they could trace this back to you, then what? You can now take 20 of their strongest in a heartbeat.

As you saunter out of the alleyway, a lone car drifts by, music playing in the dead of night.

“Ooh, you set my soul alight,” you sing along to the familiar tune beneath your breath, off-key.

This is what sets your soul alight. The hunt. The taste running down your throat like no expensive champagne ever has.

Your heart? A different story. Perhaps it’s your human self’s dedication to saving lives rather than ending them trying to peek through.

But your heart stopped a month ago—so it certainly does not win this battle. It is merely a symbol, just like your humanity altogether.

You are now certain of three things.

First is that you are now a vampire.

Second is that your parents were murdered by vampires.

And third is that you are now a murderer.

You strut without a care in the world. Even if someone were to discern your features despite the dark, Vancouver is full of interesting characters. No one would bat an eye at some messy hair, and you could easily play off your blood-stained lips and red eyes as some new goth makeup trend.

You consider chasing the car’s driver, but you’re full.

For now.

So why you ended up finding yourself at your aunt and uncle’s neighborhood? You can’t really tell—you’re just going off on the instincts that have carried you thus far.

There weren’t any street cameras back when you lived here, but just in case there are now, you use your speed to move so fast they wouldn’t even be able to catch a single glimpse of you, and you enter the damned house without a sound.

The only problem, probably, with being a newborn is how heightened your emotions are. This isn’t you, (Y/N), you have to endure, Carlisle tried to tell you the last time you saw him.

But he doesn’t know a single thing about you.

He doesn’t understand the bitterness you carry.

You’re 11 years old, standing in this same doorway, clutching your school bag that’s soaked from the rain because they conveniently forgot to pick you up.

“I don’t know why you insist on acting so pitiful,” your aunt sneers, “if you weren’t so ungrateful, perhaps we’d actually want to help you.”

She wipes imaginary sweat from her brow as she flicks through primetime channels. “Do you know how hard it is to take care of a child that isn’t even ours? We had plans, (Y/N). You ruined them. We should’ve sent you to a foster home.”

You’d scrub the floors until your fingers ached, only for her to find some invisible speck of dirt and make you do it all over again. You remember how they’d lock the fridge at night, how they’d turn off the hot water before you could shower, how they always reminded you that you don’t belong there.

And your uncle’s attention would only come in the form of disappointment. “The chores aren’t done? Didn’t we feed you last night? Maybe you need to start earning your keep before you start demanding so much.”

But the chores were always done—just not in his wife’s eyes. Demanding so much? The only thing they give you is a roof over your head—and even that comes with strings attached.

You never forget.

And now you truly don’t belong in this house, so let’s see if they recognize you.

Your lips curl into something between a grin and a snarl in preparation as you hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

“(Y/N?)” Your uncle gasps as he rounds the entryway.

You can only imagine what he’s seeing. It’s what you saw that first time you looked in a mirror after you woke up. You, but not really you. A version so polished it almost gives off the uncanny valley effect.

You wonder if he noticed your eyes. If they’re unsettling him as much as the dreaded man’s did to you.

“Hi, uncle!” You chirp.

He gulps. “Um. How did you get in? We had the locks changed years ago.”

You inwardly scoff. Of course they did. Surely, the second your 16-year-old self left, they decided that you’ll never be welcome here again. It was probably your aunt’s idea—he’s always been her puppet.

You’re glad you’re seeing him first. That way, you can save the best for last.

“Hm? Aren’t you happy to see me?” You ask, faux confusion dripping from your voice.

Your uncle takes a step back, bumping into the console table behind him. The lamp wobbles, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are locked onto yours.

Then—her voice.

“Who the hell are you talking to?”

Right on cue.

You hear her heels clicking as she approaches, the sound triggering something deep in your bones. An old instinct, long since buried. But that fear isn’t yours anymore.

She steps into view, arms crossed, annoyance painted across her face. “Oh, it’s you.” Her gaze flicks over your bloodstained clothes, your too-perfect features, your red eyes. She scoffs. “God, you look ridiculous.”

You grin. She has no idea.

Your uncle makes a noise—half gasp, half whimper. She turns to him, irritated. “What is your problem?”

That’s when you strike.

You’re on him in an instant, fingers wrapping around his throat, lifting him clean off the ground. His feet kick uselessly.

“You should’ve been nicer to me. I would’ve spared you.” You fake-pout.

A choked gurgle escapes him, cut short when your teeth sink into his flesh.

The first time you were forced to scrub wine stains out of the carpet, you cried. You scrubbed and scrubbed, but the red wouldn’t come out.

Now, you don’t care if the stains never fade.

Your aunt screams.

You drop his lifeless body and turn to her, licking the blood off your lips.

She stumbles back, trembling, clutching the silk of her robe as if it’ll protect her. “What—what are you—”

You mimic her earlier words, tilting your head. “God, you look ridiculous.”

She turns to run. You let her. For just a second.

She barely makes it three steps before you cut her off, slamming the door shut with one hand.

She gasps, spinning around, eyes wide with terror. “Please—”

“Please?” You chuckle. “Please?” You lean in, voice dropping to a whisper. “You never listened when I pleaded.”

Then, you take what’s yours.

Afterwards, you finally step outside, not caring enough to hide the bodies the way your parents’ killers did.

The night air is cold and crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain-soaked pavement and something else—something vaguely familiar. You stiffen.

“Newborns. Always so messy.”

The voice is warm, teasing. You turn just as a towering figure steps out of the shadows, arms crossed over his chest, dimples flashing.

“Hey, little sis.”

Your jaw clenches. “Emmett.”

From behind him, Rosalie emerges, golden hair cascading over her shoulder, arms folded like she’d rather be anywhere else. Her sharp eyes flick to the bodies inside the window, then back to you.

“I see subtlety isn’t your thing,” she remarks dryly.

Your lip curls. “What are you two doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Emmett answers. “Carlisle was hoping you’d come back on your own, but…” He gestures vaguely at the crime scene. “Yeah. That wasn’t happening.”

You scoff. “And what, you’re here to convince me? Because I’m not interested.”

Rosalie rolls her eyes. “You’re barely over a month old, and you’re already acting like you know everything.”

“I know enough,” you snap.

Emmett sighs, stepping closer. “Look, I get it. You’re angry. You think we don’t understand, but we do. We’ve been there.” He gestures between himself and Rosalie. “But this isn’t the way.”

You bark out a laugh. “And what is? Playing house with a bunch of self-righteous hypocrites?”

Emmett doesn’t flinch, but there’s something softer in his gaze now. Something that makes your throat tighten.

“Come back with us,” he says. “Just for a little while. Hear Carlisle out.”

Your eyes flick between them. Rosalie’s expression is unreadable, but Emmett… Emmett is genuine.

You glance back at the house, at the bodies cooling inside.

Then, after a long beat, you sigh. “…Fine.”

You follow the couple as they run to Victoria, your feet taking you faster than a helicopter could have. The ocean breeze whips against your face as you make the leap from the mainland to Vancouver Island, landing on the rocky shore with grace.

Within moments, the Cullen house is in sight, nestled in the trees, glowing softly against the dark night. Emmett and Rosalie lead you inside, not a word spoken, but the tension in the air thick enough to taste. You cross the threshold into a house that doesn’t feel like home but feels oddly familiar all the same.

Carlisle is the first to greet you. He’s calm, even in the face of your obvious disdain. “(Y/N),” he says with a warm tone. “We’re glad you’re here. Let’s sit down, please.”

You look around at the family, noting their stiff postures, their eyes full of… concern. Each couple stands off to a side, watching you, even the dhampir girl with brown eyes with her werewolf—now human—mate, who has long since healed from the tiger shifter attack since the last time you saw him.

Carlisle gestures for you to sit, and you do so reluctantly, crossing your arms. “We need to talk.”

You don’t respond at first, your eyes narrowing as you keep your attention on him. Carlisle continues, his voice steady. “There were questions about you at the hospital. They asked if we had seen you. I told them you had to leave suddenly. Your uncle fell ill, so you went to take care of him.”

You freeze for a second, a bitter laugh slipping from your lips. He did indeed fall.

“Does Dr. Park know?” Not that it matters. It’s not like you’ll be returning to that open buffet of death.

Carlisle nods. “He knows, but he can’t say anything without directly implicating himself. It’s why he just… let us go.”

“Our chief convinced the tigers to make a treaty with the Cullens—with you—to leave them be as long as they no longer turn anybody else or drink from locals,” Jacob, the wolf, speaks up.

Which drags your eyes once more to Renesmee, next to him. There is blood coursing through her veins, and her scent is very sweet. It doesn’t beckon you as strongly as human blood does, but it doesn’t stop you from looking.

Bella follows your eyes, and her head whips toward you instantly, eyes narrowing. “Stay away from her,” she warns, voice low and dangerous.

You raise an eyebrow and lean back in your seat with an exaggerated casualness. “Relax, Bella,” your voice drips with amusement as Renesmee rolls her eyes, her vampiric side giving her enough courage to not be phased by your red gaze. “She smells good like perfume, not like food.”

She’s still tense, growling ever so quietly, but her shoulders relax a bit.

You roll your eyes and turn to Carlisle. “I’m obviously not welcome here. Can I go now?”

He sighs. “You are always welcome here, (Y/N). You’re one of us now—this can be your home. We really needed to make sure that you were safe.”

“Safe?” You echo with an incredulous laugh. “I am safe. You want to weaken me with your animal blood.”

Carlisle’s eyes darken, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he waits for you to continue, and you do, your emotions swelling as the words slip out without thought.

“Do you know what my entire life has been about, doctor?” you ask, the last word bleeding with mockery. “It’s been about studying so I could get away from my aunt and uncle, or wondering what happened to my parents—why they were murdered, why I was left behind, and working on how I could be the savior I couldn’t be as a three-year-old. But now? Now I know, and now I can live.”

The room goes silent. The family watches you, each of them processing what you’ve said. You don’t look at them as they exchange glances. You don’t need to. Your mind is already made up.

You stand to leave, but Carlisle doesn’t back down. “I understand you’re angry. But what happened to your family… it doesn’t have to define who you are now.

“What you call weakness, is actually anything but. It’s the strength to endure, to be able to live publicly. You can learn to temper the cravings, if you would just allow yourself to try—you’d thank yourself for it, in the long run. And you’ll never have to be alone.”

You can feel the anger rising within you again. You’ve heard this speech before. The right way. The safe way. You’re done listening to those words.

“I don’t feel alone,” you growl, eyes locking with Carlisle’s, and your voice comes out cold, controlled. “And don’t treat me like I’m broken, because I’m not. I’m free.”

You’re not sure if you’re convincing them or yourself. If this is true freedom, or if you’re letting yourself into a new cage, one barred by thirst.

The Cullens are silent, watching you carefully, but you don’t let your voice waver. Every single one of your senses is telling you what you want, so no one is going to take that from you.

“Don’t worry.” You turn to them one last time. “For saving me, I’ll respect you enough to not drink from locals.”

You step outside, where the only sound accompanying you is the crunch of leaves and snaps of twigs beneath your feet.

Until another set of footsteps catches up to you, and you groan.

“I know what it’s like.”

You turn around to see the quiet one—Jasper.

“The hunger. It’s like an intrinsic part of you that you can’t outrun. And I didn’t. When I first turned, I couldn’t fathom living without it. Every human scent, every drop of blood, it felt like I was drowning in it… and I enjoyed that drowning.”

You quirk an eyebrow.

He groans, as though remembering his red-eyed days pains him. Whether out of temptation or guilt, though, you can’t tell.

“It wasn’t like I decided to become vegetarian overnight,” he continues. “At first, I kept giving in. I slipped up, again and again. But I needed to learn that I’m now different, and that I can’t spend an eternity surviving instead of living.”

You cross your arms, but it feels like your armor is starting to crack.

“It was about progress. Day by day, it’d get easier. Of course, I had Alice through it all.” He smiles fondly at the ground at the thought of the pixie girl. “She was my anchor.”

You don’t respond right away. You feel your jaw tighten as you scoff inwardly. An anchor. Right. How nice for him. Alice might have been there to hold him steady, but you? Nada. Romance, connection, it all seems so… impossible with your current circumstances. You’ll never have someone like Alice, and you sure as hell won’t let yourself rely on anyone else. Not now.

Jasper watches you closely, sensing your hesitation, but he doesn’t push. He simply waits.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” you say, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. The idea of controlling the thirst, figuring out a whole other way to live this life that still feels so foreign, it’s completely overwhelming.

Jasper gives a quiet, knowing smile. “I can train you, if you want, because I didn’t know if I could, either. But I didn’t let myself give up. And neither should you. Not if you want to be more than just alive.”

For a moment, silence hangs between you, and then, finally, you nod. “Okay. I’ll let you train me. But don’t expect me to be easy to work with.”

His grin widens just slightly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from a newborn.”

A week.

Two weeks into this stupid training.

And it’s not getting any better.

You’ve always tried to be someone who dealt with things head-on, but this… this is something else. The thirst is an ever-present beast, gnawing at your insides, and yet, no matter how hard you try, the animal blood just doesn’t sit right with you.

Jasper’s patience is a constant, though. Every time you fail to control your desire for human blood, he’s there, offering gentle guidance, but it feels like you’re fighting a losing battle. And you hate it.

“Come on, (Y/N),” Jasper urges, his voice calm but persistent. “You��ve got this. Just focus on the hunt.”

You growl, fangs flashing as you push through the motion, trying to force yourself to focus on the deer in front of you. But every time you go in for the kill, the blood is just… wrong. The taste is foreign and metallic, the warmth lacking. This hunt isn’t the same.

“I don’t get it,” you mutter under your breath, stepping back from the animal. “Why can’t I just do it my way?”

Jasper sighs. “Because, (Y/N), that way isn’t sustainable. You’re a doctor, for fuck’s sake. You will have to live with the guilt for eternity once the newborn frenzy passes.”

You were a doctor.

You’ve been trying, for weeks now, to make the animal blood work, but it’s just not you—not the current you, at least, and to hell with that meek, old version. It’s too bland, too unsatisfying. Like trying to replace a steak with a bowl of cereal.

“This isn’t living.” You shake your head. “This is sacrifice.”

Before Jasper can respond, a smooth voice breaks through the tension.

“What a nice surprise!”

You both turn to see a black-haired girl leaning lazily against a shadowed tree, arms crossed, watching you intently with a smirk playing at her lips. You catch the now-familiar smell of immortality. A vampire with the relaxed air of someone who’s seen a lot and doesn’t care to hide it.

Jasper’s eyes narrow slightly, recognizing her. “Misora.”

“Jasper.” She nods coolly, pushing herself off the tree and taking a few steps forward, her gaze shifting to you. “And who’s this? A new recruit?”

You glare but say nothing.

“Carlisle turned her a couple months ago, and I’m trying to teach her how to hunt animals.” He turns to you. “Misora is a nomad. We traveled with the Mexican coven around the same time, over a century ago.”

“Still not fond of animal blood, huh?” Her smirk widens, voice dripping with casual amusement. “You know,” she continues, her voice low and thoughtful, “forcing yourself to drink from animals is never going to feel right. It’s unnatural. But that doesn’t mean you have to give in to the bloodlust completely. You just need to learn how to control it in moderation.”

Jasper stiffens at her words, but Misora doesn’t seem to care. Her gaze never leaves yours, her confidence only growing as she speaks. “You’ve got that thirst in you. I can see it in your eyes. But the trick is not to drown in it. You can learn to kill subtly. Take what you need, don’t waste. You’d be surprised how much you can get from a little. You’re a predator, after all. You just have to think like one.”

She walks by close enough for her red eyes to shine beneath the afternoon sun, and for her skin to sparkle as brightly as you and Jasper’s.

You look at her, stunned. “You… drink from humans.”

“Of course I do,” she responds with a chuckle. “Why would I waste time hunting animals? Humans are far more interesting. And, let’s face it, they’re a lot more filling.”

Jasper steps between the two of you, his eyes flashing with warning. “I don’t think this is the kind of training (Y/N) needs.”

Misora raises a brow, clearly not intimidated. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve taught her all about controlling her impulses, Jasper. But there’s a world out there beyond your little rules. She needs to learn how to survive in it. You can’t live in a bubble forever.”

She is speaking your language.

“You’ll never feel alive if you’re constantly fighting yourself. Live for what makes you feel whole,” she says with a knowing look.

You feel the pull of her words, and for a moment, you’re caught between the two very different perspectives: the Cullens’ careful, controlled existence and Misora’s unapologetic freedom.

You turn your eyes to Jasper. “Well. I already gave your way a try.”

The girl grins as you walk over to where she stands in the clearing.

“I’m gonna teach her the Nishimura way,” she laughs in Jasper’s direction and drapes a hand over your shoulder as she leaves, and without a second look, you choose to follow.

Your life is too long for you to not explore every option.

Over the span of just a week, the girl helps you adapt to the art of subtleties—of doing what you want, but having the peace of mind that you did not cause a ruckus.

Not that you’d ever felt guilt at your messiness, but you’ll take the Cullens’ word for it that you’ll be hit with more sense after the newborn frenzy passes.

See? You did gain something from the righteousness they spewed.

“So where are you from?” You ask your new mentor.

“Japan.”

“A long way from home, huh?”

She remains quiet for a second, jaw clenched, not turning to you. “There is nothing that makes it a home for me there, anymore. Hasn’t been in over 150 years. It’s why I travel all over, except Japan.”

“How did you turn?”

Misora doesn’t speak right away, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve overstepped.

“I was sick,” she finally says. “I knew I didn’t have long.”

Something tightens in your frozen chest. “What kind of sick?”

“Didn’t have a name for it, back then, but it was the same thing my father had. My body was weak. My bones ached, my breath was short. Healers tried, but I always knew.” She shrugs. “So I lived as much as I could. Climbed mountains, even when my lungs burned. Ate what I wanted, danced even when I was coughing blood.” She pauses. “I wasn’t afraid. I made my peace with dying. I was surrounded by my mother, my sister, my friends, and if I’d died, I would’ve been with my late father and brother.”

Her smile is all sorrow, but you can do nothing but listen with furrowed brows.

She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “But I woke up, and I was this.”

You don’t have to ask what this means. The blood-red of her eyes, the effortless grace in her every movement, the unnatural stillness that clings to her. The inescapable weight of eternity.

“I don’t even know who did it,” she admits, voice bitter. “One moment, I was dying, and then… I wasn’t. Instead, I was forced to live long enough to be the one watching everyone I love die.”

You don’t know what to say. You think you should say something, offer some kind of condolence, but what would that even be worth? Misora doesn’t seem like she’d appreciate it anyway.

“I hate this,” she says, her voice raw, but her expression carefully blank. “I hate this immortality. It’s a curse. A joke. But I have to make the most of it, I guess.”

You glance down for a second, before deciding to ask the question you’ve been wondering for a while. “So why do you bother being discrete? Fuck this world and its rules. It’s not like anybody could harm you, anyways.”

“Oh, but there are people who can.”

You frown. The Cullens—Carlisle, especially—always made it sound like it’s morality.

“If we’re that powerful, we should be able to handle it.”

Misora laughs—actually laughs—but it’s sharp-edged. “Tell that to the Volturi.”

“The who?”

“The leeches who think they’re kings,” she says dryly. “They’re the reason we hide. The moment a vampire gets too flashy, too ambitious, too noticeable—” she drags her thumb across her throat. “Gone.”

You tilt your head. “And they’re strong enough to make everyone listen?”

“They have numbers. And power.” Her pale fingers flex at her sides. “There are vampires in their ranks who can do more than just be strong and fast. They can blind you, torture you, there’s even one they call the Mind Stealer, or the Puppeteer—very few people actually knows his name, but he can make you do whatever he wants with a single thought. If he wanted, he could make you kill yourself, and you’d do it with a smile.”

A chill runs down your spine, remembering the moments you behaved quite noticeably. Did Emmett and Rosalie clean up after you?

Misora scoffs. “Cowards, all of them. They hide behind their pretty little powers, thinking they’re gods.” Her lip curls. “Aro, their dear leader, is the worst of them all. Slimy little bastard.”

You smirk at her words. “Not a fan, I take it?”

She laughs, sharp and cold. “Not in the slightest.” There’s a dangerous glint in her eye. “If I was able to, I’d rip those smug assholes apart, just to watch the dust settle.”

So you follow in the cynical, but lively vampire’s footsteps.

In the span of another week, you feel more spirited than you did in the two months before. Hell, in the 22 years before.

Every night, you and Misora scour various cities, blending into the nightlife, finding your prey with ease. Her laughter is infectious, and her confidence bleeds into your own.

Tonight is no different.

You lay your lovely squad of victims near a warehouse deep in the city—somewhere no one should care to notice, but you’ll clean up after yourselves regardless.

Then you indulge.

Your movements are gradually growing more precise, with razor-sharp instincts. You sink your teeth in before the woman can scream, drinking deep, feeling the familiar rush flood your senses. The warm tang of fresh blood coats your tongue, leaving you buzzing with energy and satisfaction.

You wipe the corner of your mouth, chuckling at something Misora’s saying, but the laughter dies in your throat when moonlight casts a silvery glow over the woman crumpled at your feet.

A middle-aged woman. Her face is ashen, eyes wide open, unseeing, accusing. Your hands shake as you take her in. The faded scars along her limbs. The slight dent in her chest where a surgeon once worked to save her life.

Your hands worked to save her life.

The memory crashes into you like the most vicious wave. Around six months ago, your first week as an intern at Victoria General. A late-night car crash. Blood pooling on the gurney.

You’d stabilized her, alongside Dr. Cullen.

And now, you’ve killed her.

Your breath hitches, the remnants of her blood burning like acid in your throat. Memories flood back—the beeping monitors, the tense urgency as you prepped her for surgery, the relief that had filled you when it went well.

Something inside you breaks. Your knees buckle, hitting the cold, hard ground. The weight of your actions crashes over you, suffocating and heavy. This isn’t just a random victim. This is someone whose life you held in your hands—twice.

“(Y/N)?” Misora’s voice is sharp, alarmed. She crouches beside you, her hands gripping your shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

You shove the body away like it burns. Your fingers tangle in your hair, pressing into your scalp, like you can dig into your own skull and tear this moment out.

But you were never able to do that.

“I—I knew her,” you choke out, eyes glued to the lifeless body. “I saved her. I saved her, and now she’s dead because of me.”

You were a doctor. You were supposed to save people. Not this.

The breaths you don’t even need, just taking them in because you need to feel human right now, rattle in your throat. The newborn instincts that have ruled you since your turning are drowned out by something deeper. A guilt so raw it feels like it’s killing you. The heightening of emotions makes your horror so unbearable, it’s sickening.

Misora’s expression shifts, her usual indifference faltering, shifting to worry, as she processes your turmoil. “Shit.”

The world tilts, spinning around you, and all you can see are the faces of the people you’ve drained. Were any of them people you saved, too? Are you undoing all the good you did in your human life?

Misora tugs at your arm, desperation seeping into her voice. “We need to get you out of here.”

You don’t resist as she hauls you to your feet, your body numb as she practically drags you away, leaving the carnage behind.

The night blurs past you.

And suddenly, you’re at the Cullens’ doorstep. The house is quiet, lights dim against the backdrop of the dense woods. Misora pounds on the door, her urgency echoing through the trees.

Esme answers, her eyes widening at the sight of you. Blood on your trembling hands. Red eyes shattered. “What happened?”

“She’s breaking down,” Misora blurts, a rare tremor in her voice. “She needs help, and I’ve never dealt with this before.”

The Cullens are there in an instant, guiding you inside, their faces painted with concern. But your gaze remains fixed on the floor, unable to lift the crushing weight pressing down on your chest.

For two days.

You don’t hunt.

You don’t move.

Carlisle sits with you in quiet understanding. Esme’s soft voice tries to soothe. Jasper subtly tamps down your emotions when they get too overwhelming. But none of it fixes the gaping hole inside you.

You don’t know how to live with this. You can only sit with the haze of guilt and horror hanging over you like a storm cloud.

But then Alice gasps.

Your head snaps up, and find her with her fingers gripping the back of the chair, knuckles like stone. Her golden eyes are distant, unfocused.

She’s the one that can see the future.

“Alice?” Jasper’s voice is low, worried.

Her voice is barely a whisper, laced with dread. “The Volturi. They’re coming.” She turns to you, eyes shaking. “For you.”

The room falls into a suffocating silence, everyone’s eyes on Alice as the reality of your actions settles over them. You share a glance with Misora, and it hits you.

You didn’t clean up after yourselves.

Now you’re gonna be the prey.

You brace yourself for the fallout. For Carlisle’s disappointment, for Esme’s soft but inevitable grief. Maybe even for Bella to suggest running and get her own little family away from everything, or for Rosalie to outwardly scoff that this isn’t her problem.

But Carlisle steps forward, his expression calm, steady. Decisive.

“Then we prepare.”

You blink. “What?”

His voice is firm, without hesitation. “We stand with you.”

Your chest tightens.

Esme nods, her warm, unyielding presence wrapping around you like a shield. “You’re family now,” she says softly, like it’s the simplest truth in the world. “And family doesn’t abandon each other.”

Alice finally blinks, the vision fading, and when she refocuses, there’s something sharp in her gaze. “They’re not here yet. We have time.”

Jasper crosses his arms, his posture shifting into something subtly protective. “Not much, though.”

Emmett grins, cracking his knuckles. “Doesn’t matter. Let them come.”

Rosalie exhales sharply through her nose, but there’s no venom in it. “You’re a reckless idiot,” she mutters, but then, after a long pause— “And if you die, it’ll reflect badly on us.”

The words are sharp, but the meaning underneath them is clear.

She’s in.

A lump forms in your throat. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve their loyalty. Not after what you’ve done.

But they’re giving it to you anyway.

“I’m staying too.”

You snap your head toward Misora.

She leans against the wall, arms crossed, but her usual smirk is gone. There’s no amusement in her eyes, no mischief. Only something cold. Determined.

“You don’t have to—”

“Oh, shut up.” She rolls her eyes. “I messed up right there with you. Do you think I’d let you die alone?” She shoves her hands into her pockets. “You’re annoying as hell, but you’re my friend, now. And besides, the Cullens are gonna need someone on their side who actually knows how to fight dirty.“

Jasper arches a brow but doesn’t argue.

Night shifts to dawn. Saturday shifts to Thursday, and the air isn’t any less thick with anticipation.

A suffocating stillness settles over the clearing outside the Cullens’ house. As the sun starts to rise, your skins begin to glimmer, a show of beauty despite being braced for a fight. With bodies coiled like springs, golden, crimson, and even two pairs of brown eyes lock onto the shadowy figures emerging from the trees.

A group of five. No fanfare, no grand entrance—just the soft rustling of their cloaks as they step forward, but the air of authority that radiates from them is unmistakable.

“Why is it always your family, Carlisle?” A blonde girl, barely a teenager, starts.

“Lovely to see you again, Jane.” He responds with a curt smile at her.

There’s a guy who’s identical to her, another guy who’s insanely tall. But it’s the fourth one that steals your breath away.

The moment you see him, something in you stops.

He is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Of course, all vampires have an unnatural allure, but him? It’s something else entirely. Sharp jawline, full, rosy lips, hair as dark as the midnight sky. His presence is quiet, effortless, but every movement is precise, lethal in a way that doesn’t need to be flaunted. And his eyes—deep crimson, glinting like polished rubies beneath his hood—fix on you, unreadable.

Jewels. Not the bloodstains that are your eyes, that are the eyes of the vampire from your childhood, but rubies.

You should be afraid. You are afraid.

But a part of you can’t look away.

Until Misora gasps. A choked, disbelieving noise.

She’s staring at him, wide-eyed, something breaking across her face.

Edward stiffens beside you, his eyes flicking between them as he reads her thoughts. “Riki is your brother?” He murmurs.

Your gaze snaps to Edward, then back to Misora.

Misora, whose lips part soundlessly, whose expression is stuck somewhere between recognition and denial.

“Riki?” she echoes, like the name is foreign in her own mouth.

You whip back to her, confusion knotting in your chest. “I thought you told me your brother was dead.”

Her hands clench at her sides, voice barely above a heartbroken whisper, “My brother is dead.”

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

For the first time since Riki became the Volturi’s most valuable weapon, he is distracted.

He doesn’t get distracted. It’s not possible. His gift demands complete control. His mind is a fortress—impenetrable, untouchable, locked into his duty like an ironclad machine. He does not waver. He does not hesitate.

And yet.

When his eyes land on her, something fractures.

She is standing among the Cullens, body tensed. She’s afraid, but she’s hiding behind the bravado of a newborn. But all he can see is her eyes. They aren’t golden like the rest of the coven. But it’s not just the color that pulls him in—it’s the weight behind them, the quiet storm she carries in her gaze.

She is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

A foolish thought. A human thought. One that shouldn’t exist in his mind.

But it lingers.

Then, he sees the other pair of red eyes—a stranger vampire who didn’t stand with the Cullens 18 years ago.

At first, he doesn’t register who she is. Because this girl—no, this woman—is not Misora. Misora was fifteen. Misora was still human, still soft around the edges, still warm. This person standing before him is none of those things. She is tall, fully grown, her limbs no longer awkward with adolescence but poised, sharp. She does not have a heartbeat.

And yet—

He knows.

Knows in the way an older brother knows his little sister, no matter how many centuries, how much distance has warped them apart.

For the first time in decades, something cold and dangerous slides under Riki’s ribs. An emotion he was never supposed to feel again.

What have they done to you?

Jane is saying something. Bringing up all of the newborn’s victims.

Riki isn’t hearing her.

The words slip past him, distant and irrelevant. Even the steady presence of the guard beside him is background noise.

His focus is fixed entirely on his baby sister, except she’s not.

He takes a step forward, the movement small but purposeful. The Cullens tense. The girl with the beautifully scarred eyes watches him with something unreadable in her expression, but he barely registers it.

He does the only thing he knows how to do.

“Step forward.”

The words are soft. Deceptively calm.

Misora flinches.

And something inside Riki wrenches.

The command had been soft—barely more than a breath—but the moment the words leave his lips, he sees the exact second she realizes what’s happening.

She knows.

She knows what he’s doing. Who he is. What he is.

A flicker of resistance shudders through her, instinctive and useless. His grip is too strong. His gift—so carefully honed, so ruthlessly wielded—is absolute.

And still, she fights.

Misora has always been stubborn.

Even now, as her body jerks forward against her will, her jaw locks tight, her eyes burning with defiance. The others react immediately—a low growl from the golden-haired one, a blur of movement—protection, Riki realizes, they’re protecting her—but before anyone can intervene, Misora lifts a hand. Wait.

Riki swallows against something thick in his throat.

He tightens his hold, his gift slithering into her nervous system like an iron vice, seizing control of her vocal cords, pressing against her prefrontal cortex. His voice, when he speaks, is measured. “What is your name?”

Misora’s jaw locks.

But against her own will, against every ounce of resistance in her body, the truth gets wrung from her throat. “Misora Nishimura.”

The sound of her voice, of the name he hasn’t heard in centuries, his name, hits him like a stake to the heart.

“This isn’t the newborn we were sent to kill,” Demetri leans in to whisper, “this is her accomplice.”

But Riki knows, and he doesn’t care. Not anymore. He holds up a hand to silence the guard—his peer in title, but Demetri knows which one of them is truly in charge.

“When and by whom were you turned?” He forces his expression to remain neutral.

Her teeth clench. She’s fighting so hard.

Something curdles in his chest. This is the girl that used to play fight with him, when he’d come home from a long, painful day with the Yakuza. She didn’t fight against him. She’d tug on the sleeves of his kimono, demanding his attention.

“1832. I don’t know who turned me, I was sick.” A tremor runs through her limbs. Her eyes burn with fury, with desperation, with something pleading.

And for the first time in 200 years, his hands start to shake.

And he lets her go, taking a second to steady himself.

He turns to the other girl—the one who isn’t his sister, the one he should’ve questioned first. The one who, for a split second, had stolen his breath before the rest of the world fell away.

But now, he hesitates.

It’s a minuscule thing, barely a fraction of a second, but in his line of work, in his particular skillset, a fraction of a second is an eternity. It’s the difference between absolute dominance and doubt. Between control and chaos.

“You’re working with her?” He asks Misora, voice quieter than before, almost contemplative.

He shouldn’t have asked. He should’ve commanded. He should’ve taken the answer like he always does, forced his will into her bones the way he’s done with so many others.

But he doesn’t.

And Misora—now free, her limbs shaking, her breathing ragged—fixes him with a glare that’s both razor-sharp and filled with something wounded, something raw.

And then she scoffs, a harsh, humorless sound. “Eat shit, Riki Volturi. Or should I say Mind Stealer? Or Puppeteer?”

The name lands like a strike of lightning, coming from her mouth.

Not Nishimura. Volturi.

His jaw tightens. He doesn’t let himself react. Doesn’t let himself acknowledge the way it burns. But she’s staring at him like he’s nothing, like he’s a stranger, like he’s already long gone.

He remains silent as he sorts his mind for what to do. A side of him that has long been dormant is now resurrected, and he doesn’t know what to sacrifice.

“You hesitated.”

The other girl with red eyes.

The girl with eyes like his. Maybe his eyes are even as broken as hers, right now.

One whose voice sounds like music to his ears.

Carlisle and Esme try to tug her backwards, but she’s already caught his attention.

A scoff from the guard behind him. “Hesitated?” the vampire sneers, like the very idea is laughable. “The Mind Stealer doesn’t hesitate. Don’t delude yourself, newborn.”

Riki doesn’t react.

Alec takes a step forward, eyes gleaming with malice. “She’s wasting our time. They’re wasting our time. Kill the two girls and be done with it.”

Kill them?

Anyone but her.

Misora stiffens beside (Y/N). The Cullens brace themselves, prepared to strike.

And Riki exhales his first breath in two centuries.

Slowly, deliberately.

“No.”

Silence.

Absolute silence. Like the Earth has stopped rotating.

“What?”

Riki doesn’t look at Alec. He doesn’t need to. His focus is elsewhere.

He takes a step forward. Towards Misora. Towards her.

The Cullens shift instantly, poised for defense, but he doesn’t stop.

He’s barely taken another step, when he’s met with white-hot agony.

The force of it is instant, an explosion of suffering detonating inside his skull. He crumbles to his knees before he can stop himself, hands clawing at the cold ground.

A curse tears from his lips.

Jane. He doesn’t have to see her to know. He can feel her amusement, her punishment from here.

“You dare defy an order?” Her voice is sweet. Delighted. “How strange. Have we gotten soft, Mind Stealer?”

Another wave of pain. It burns. He grits his teeth, locks his jaw, and endures.

Through the ringing in his ears, he hears something. Murmuring. The Cullens. Something fast.

Then the pain stops.

It’s not gradual. It doesn’t fade. It just… ceases.

Riki gasps, shuddering. He blinks up at the sky, disoriented, reeling, and realizes he’s standing.

Not collapsed. Not writhing.

Standing.

He turns, dazed, and then he sees it.

The translucent shimmer of a shield encasing him.

Bella Cullen’s eyes are locked on him, jaw set, hands clenched at her sides. And the shield he found his way around 19 years ago is protecting him.

The murmurs behind him are hushed, but Riki hears everything.

“This shouldn’t be possible.” Felix’s voice is low, urgent. “Chelsea’s gift, she’s supposed to bind us. Our loyalty. Our devotion.”

A beat of silence.

Then, Demetri exhales sharply. “She does. But her ties don’t work when opposed by true love.”

True love.

There was a time when he would’ve mocked such things—love, feelings as a whole, even—after spending a century with the Volturi, and forgetting how to feel them, to begin with. He would’ve thought they were a liability.

But Misora is not a liability. She is his sister. And he truly loves her.

The realization settles into him like fire in his veins. Steady. Absolute. And love—true, unbreakable love—frees him.

So he does what would’ve once been unthinkable.

In a flash, he turns faster than any vampire could expect.

His power surges outward, deadly and precise. He seizes two minds at once—Jane and Alec, the Volturi’s twin nightmares, their most precious weapons besides him.

Their limbs jerk violently against their own will. Jane’s eyes widen in shock, and Alec lets out a strangled sound of protest.

Let them scream. He isn’t focusing on their vocal cords, right now.

They reach for one another.

Gasps ring out, but he doesn’t stop to relish in the astonishment. Jane’s shriek is cut short as her own hands grasp Alec’s throat. Alec’s arms move like a puppet’s, seizing her head in turn.

With their own hands, they rip each other’s heads off.

Silence.

Horrified, disbelieving silence.

The twin blades are reduced to nothing but limp, severed bodies.

The Cullens stare. The newborn stares. Misora stares.

Even Felix and Demetri are frozen. The two guards—once his comrades, witnesses of centuries of executions—stagger backward, fear flashing through their crimson eyes.

And then they run.

They don’t fight. They don’t look back.

They flee, blurring into the trees, retreating to Volterra. To Aro, Caius, and Marcus. To report the unthinkable.

Riki doesn’t stop them. His hands are still shaking, but he doesn’t care to.

Because for the first time in centuries—

He is free.

☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾✦✧†✧✦☽✦✧†✧✦☾

Ok tbf I really could’ve cut this into two chapters and I do think we have lost the plot slightly BUT DO YOU SEE THE VISION

Comment if you’d like to be tagged on the next one (where the romance starts) :)

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Finale

@angelengene3011 @wrldhypen @opheliaas-stuff

#Spotify #enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen x reader #ni ki x reader #nishimura riki #riki x reader #vampire au #riki x you #twilight #twilight au #enhypen fanfiction #enha #enha x reader #enha imagines #ni ki angst #ni ki imagines #riki imagines

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kb1301 · 10 months ago

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How about some painful Shaxx12?

Clutched Close

Shaxx sat in silence, his hands rested on his knees as he gazed over the covered slab beside him, one that hid something he feared to see. Beneath the one-horned helmet was a man grasping with the reality settling in front of him.

He didn’t like to think of it. Of what happened to that person that hid beneath the cover, that same kind of cover they’ve used for Cayde back then. He would wish for it to be unreal, just some wretched fantasy, but even an Ahamkara can’t help the pain he felt.

And so he stood up. One of anger.

And he stepped closer. One of despondence.

And he gazed down at the cover. One of grief.

He lifted it away, to only see the horror awaiting him.

It was Max… Or what was left of him. His face was nearly unrecognizable, his horn dismantled and shattered. The metal was stripped off of him, by some kind of cruelty. His optics were brutally taken off of him, leaving only one to be seen, and the other lost. Any remnant of the blue strip of paint was nowhere to be found. His jaw was but bits of itself now. He was completely mutilated, alongside Spinner’s broken and destroyed self.

To see this, it made Shaxx so distraught. What had happened to his dearest husband? His loving partner? The one person that always aided him away from his duties? He could hear himself sniffle already, but no breach of tears yet came… for he had another emotion to go through.

Anger.

And in his anger did he proceed to thrash around the room. Breaking things with his fists and using his Light to show his fury within. In each scream, in each shout, in each show of power enraged by his emotions, he vowed nothing but death to those that had done this to Max.

He always had control over his own self, but this? To see the one you loved most die and no longer having their beautiful features, all replaced by ruin… How could he not wreak havoc? Rampage over everything?

And in the wake of his destruction did he stop. He saw the impact of his fists, of his boots, of his helmet. The room was broken with the Light, of all three elements that it had. Solar for the helm that butted in excess. Void for the boots that left scars on the floor. Arc for the fists that shocked the lights abound.

But he could see as well that, in his anger, it had shaken the lifeless body of Max from its rest on the slab. He looked back there and rushed to bring him back to his comfort, even if he no longer could feel it. In trying to fix the cover back, in lifting it... Did he see something worse.

The bond clutched close to the core. To the heart. The bonds that Warlocks wore, each having their own symbolisms and meanings of their own. Though Shaxx already knew the one that Max wore. Always had so.

"Shaxx!"

His focus was shifted away from the screens in front of him to see his beloved come close to him. He turned to face the approaching Exo and gave him a quick kiss to the forehead with his own helm.

"Ah, here comes my dearest soldier... How I've missed you!" He gave him a strong hug, enveloping his arms around his waist and lifting him even to allow each other to see eye-to-eye.

"What have you been up to, my Guardian—" Shaxx noticed the flickering holographic symbol on his husband's left upper arm. "What's that I see there, Max?" He made himself sound curious, amused even.

"Oh! This my love, is a representation of my sentimentality. For you." He revealed the symbol of the Crucible to the Handler of the Crucible itself. "You do sometimes say that you are the Crucible itself, and this," He pointed to the hologram. "Represents you, for myself."

Shaxx smiled beneath his helmet, one of warmth and sincerity.

"Near or far, wherever my journeys and adventures take me... Knowing that I have you close means the most to me. Even through the troubling times and the peaceful moments I get, to know you here," He pointed once more to the bond before facing Shaxx with joy clarified through his optics. "Always reminds me of my loyalty, of my love, of my boundless affection for you."

In gradual progression, four things happened. First was Shaxx's realization of the past, of that memory of when he first saw Max wear the bond. He stumbled in his feet as the gravity of it affected him. Second was the helmet he lifted up, revealing the face beneath to no one but Max, and in that same face were an expression of sorrow and grief. Third was him kneeling close to the Exo's mangled face, and looking through the features left that he had practiced seeing over and over and over again.

And the last one was the kiss. He placed his lips on the forehead, just beside where the horn used to be. And he kept it in place, his eyes trying not to swell from the tears that were threatening to burst. The kiss was always done in secret, always in their own home, done in that comforting place they found together.

The Titan stayed there for a moment. Kissing and peppering the broken metal with his own affection, one that would last for longer than anything... Even past Max's death. He'd whisper what final secrets they had together, of everything good and of everything troubling that their relationship went through together.

After a few more minutes, he placed the cover once more over Max's body. He put the one-horned helmet on him once again, and trudged himself away from the room. He had duties to attend to...

And even with such responsibilities, he would always find himself distracted... Always distracted by the thought of the one thing he welcomed to distract him away from it.

#kb posts #kb fics #kb ocs #destiny 2 #destiny the game #oc: maximus-12 #lord shaxx #lord shaxx x oc #shaxx12

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breederking · 4 months ago

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As they lay there, their bodies entwined, the baby inside Jody seemed to sense their bond, moving in response to their shared pleasure. It was as if the little life within was joining in their silent declaration of love and acceptance.

They held onto each other tightly, the warmth of their bodies a stark contrast to the cold world outside. They knew that eventually, they would have to face reality, but for now, they were lost in the sanctity of their shared secret. Jody's eyes searched Blake, and he saw a hunger in them that matched his own. Without a word, he pushed himself off Blake's chest, his cock still hard and leaking precum onto the sheets.

Straddling Blake once more, Jody's belly rested on the man's chest, the warmth of his body pressing against Blake's skin. He took a moment to appreciate the view, watching as the pregnant man's nipples leaked milk onto his chest. The sight was erotic beyond measure, a reminder of the power and beauty of the life growing within him.

With a low growl, Blake reached up, his hands closing around Jody's leaking nipples. He squeezed gently at first, then with more pressure, eliciting a moan of pleasure from the pregnant man. Jody's body responded immediately, milk releasing with ease. The man leaned up, his tongue flicking out to catch the droplets, tasting the sweetness of the pregnancy milk.

Their kiss grew more urgent, their tongues dueling as Blake reached between them, guiding his cock back into the warm embrace of Jody's body. Jody's eyes rolled back in his head as Blake filled him once more, his belly pressing down on Blake's cock, the weight of it adding to the sensation. The man's hips began to piston upwards, driving his length into the tight, wet heat of Jody's opening.

Jody's moans grew louder, his breath coming in gasps as Blake's cock hit that perfect spot deep within him. The pressure built, his cunt begging for release. The man's grip on his nipples grew firmer, the pain mixing with the pleasure, sending shockwaves through his body.

The room was filled with the sound of their bodies coming together, the slap of flesh and the wet squelch of Blake's cock sliding in and out of Jody's tight channel. Jody's milk continued to leak, the droplets rolling down his belly to mix with their combined cum, creating a sticky mess that only served to heighten the eroticism of the moment.

Blake felt his climax approaching, his muscles tightening as he thrust into Jody with everything he had. His eyes were locked on the pregnant man's, watching as the pleasure built within him. With a roar, he came, his hot seed spurting deep into Jody's body.

Jody's orgasm followed swiftly, his pussy pulsing as he released himself once more. His body convulsed, his muscles tightening around Blake's cock, milking it for all it was worth. The man groaned, his hips stuttering with the force of his own release.

As they both came down from their peak, their bodies remained joined, their hearts racing together. They lay there, panting, the sweat cooling on their skin. Jody's milk continued to drip from his nipples, coating Blake chest in a sticky film.

Blake leaned in, licking the tender skin, cleaning Jody up as he kissed his way down the pregnant man's chest. His hands slid around to Jody's back, holding him tightly as he continued to kiss and nip at the sensitive flesh.

The connection between them was undeniable, a force that seemed to have a life of its own. They had found something in each other that neither had ever expected, a deep, soul-stirring passion that was as intoxicating as it was overwhelming.

Their love making was a dance of passion and need, each movement a declaration of their desire for one another. Jody's belly was the ultimate symbol of their union, a physical representation of the life that connected them in a way that nothing else ever could.

The baby inside Jody grew still, as if it too was lost in the intensity of their shared climax. The silence that fell between them was filled with unspoken words, a promise that this wouldn't be the last time they came together like this.

#ftm pregnancy #story #trans pregnancy #scrawls

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kimium · 2 years ago

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Earlier this week I made a personal post about how I'd love to talk about my KHR (Katekyo Hitman Reborn!) fics. So, here I am, making the post. I have a sizable collection of 10051 fics (24 works plus some snippets) meaning I have plenty to discuss! There isn't a formula behind these rambles, but maybe my ramblings can either stir interest to check out the anime/manga OR my fics.

(Note: 10051 is the ship name to Byakuran/Shouichi. KHR ships are simplified into numbers based on the kanji in the character's names. Example: The "Bya" in Byakuran can mean "100". "Shou" can be read as "5" and "Ichi" can be read as "1". Thus, 10051 is their ship name.)

Let's Start! This is long, so it's under a Read More Cut!

My Ramblings about my 10051 fics (In no particular order)

The Only One I Want

My first 10051 fic! I remember the time I wrote this I was into NBC Hannibal. That influence shines through as I explicitly wrote Byakuran killing someone and displaying the body to Shouichi in a manner that would make Hannibal proud. Truly a horrific sight. Even though this is my first 10051 fic, it holds a special place in my heart.

Would I ever redo the fic? Not directly, but I'd have no issue taking the core idea (Byakuran's jealousy causing him to murder someone for "getting too close to Shouichi") and reworking it.

Flawed Logic (It's True Because You Want It to be True)

I think this fic is where I truly hammered down 1) my interpretation of Byakuran's perspective on Shouichi and 2) Shouichi's perspective on Byakuran. A fixed point is the perfect way to describe Byakuran's perspective!

I also loved writing Shouichi hiding from Byakuran. If someone were to ask my opinion on the "bad" timelines and how Shouichi is living in them I'd point to this fic.

Personal Server

Honestly the entire time I wrote this fic I had a very specific restaurant in mind. Sadly, it doesn't exist anymore, but the vibe and atmosphere of the restaurant remains in my heart and has seeped a little bit into this fic. Though, to be honest, I'd love to redo this fic's idea. While I like the direction it went, it didn't quite hit some of the ideas floating in my brain. Perhaps, in the future I will take the core idea of this story and write another fic.

Monochrome and Lavender

Many times when asked "what is your favourite fic" I dart around the question with "I like all my fics". While that's not a lie (I think all my stories have their own merits or reveal my thought/head space at the time of writing) this fic is by far my favourite KHR fic.

Where do I even start? Magical curses are a trope Right Up my Alley ever since I was twelve and picked up volume 4 of CLAMP's Tsubasa. (I read the first four volumes out of order!) Next, the visual representation of Byakuran's obsession?? Shouichi truly cannot escape reality this time. In other fics he has the luxury of lying to himself. How can he lie here where his vision is black and white except for Byakuran's signature shade of purple? What about the idea of "love is blind" only Byakuran's love is blinding Shouichi? Just... the symbolism is endless.

The Unspoken "K" Word in the Room

My favourite part about this fic is how something horrible has happened (Shouichi being kidnapped by Byakuran) but the entire situation is treated as a "mild" inconvenience. There is humour yet underneath the humour is rotting, festering horror and terror as Shouichi is powerless to stop Byakuran. Easily one of my favourite dynamics between them.

An Unofficial Prize (The Last Extra Hours Spent Together)

At the time of writing this story I think this idea had been swirling in my brain for two full years. I am (still) obsessed over this fic's premise. Byakuran adding Shouichi as a "prize" to Choice? How could that idea not send shivers down my spine? Make my heart thump and beat rapidly? Send me daydreaming about the idea consistently? It's too perfect. There is a high chance I'd rewrite this story or the core idea again.

Though the only snag in this fic was my worrying I was writing "too close to canon" at certain moments. Whenever I diverge from a specific canon point I always bog myself down with "accuracy". I had to rewatch some KHR to get the lines and beats of the scene perfect.

Grounding the Sun

Another story I had circulating in my brain for years! I always wanted to write a story as Spanner! I love him so much and what's a better story than Spanner witnessing Byakuran and Shouichi's relationship as an outsider?? I remember this fic taking so much out of me though! It was a challenge but in the end I think I wrote a fun fic!

Can I help you?

TIME LOOP. TIME LOOP! Need I say more? This was another story I had circulating in my brain for years! Mostly because I wanted to write Byakuran with a more "supernatural" vibe. Also, the tone of this fic is easily my favourite out of all my KHR ones. I am always here for an unsettling tone... and a time loop. Big sucker for those.

You're Welcome, Byakuran

I love this fic because it's the result of an elaborate inside joke with @someobscurereference where it all started with "Okay but what if Kikyo runs a Beauty YouTube Channel in the good timeline?" The humour that comes out of it! Priceless.

The Blue Bottle (Warming Up in Snippets)

Probably one of my lesser known stories, this fic is Ch. 11 of my first Warming Up in Snippets collection. My favourite part of the fic was how I wrote it in present tense rather than past tense. I also adore the idea of Shouichi willingly keeping himself ignorant and Byakuran facilitating the poor decision.

Delivery

Once more a fic with a story that had been circulating in my brain for years. (I'm not joking when I say I am thinking of KHR fics all the time.) Anyways, there is something so compelling to me about writing Shouichi who just... goes to Byakuran of his own volition. No running or hiding, which as I said earlier, is my default "Shouichi" mode when dealing with Byakuran. This idea was so compelling I wrote it again in my newest story Total Percentage: 4%.

The Envelope

Mark my words: I will one day write a completely unhinged Shouichi who has fully given up on escaping Byakuran. I will write him in a dark head space where he decides "If I cannot escape Byakuran I will use his obsession and have him kill bad people. I will bat my eyelashes at him and tell him someone made me feel awful and without fail Byakuran will kill them. No questions asked."

Anyways, this fic was a slight dip into exploring that angle for a fic. This one softly dips its toes into the water and I love it.

And that's all I have to say! Was there a KHR fic I missed talking about that you want me to comment on? Feel free to send an ask and I'll gladly talk about it! I will be more than delighted to do so!

#personal #writing #khr #10051 #my fics #just my thoughts #i hope you like this deep dive into my khr fics!

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drallenfreud · 1 month ago

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Dream 5/4/25

Dreamt by Allen

I was on a mountain of garbage in the middle of the street i grew up on, my sister was there she seemed younger. At some point i said it "its time to get this mess cleaned up" something like that. I found an accordion at one point I went to play it. Some noises came out. After moving it in and out twice, I noticed that the buttons on the accordion were like the ones found on children's toys. They were fake, I wasn't actually playing the accordion, just pressing a button that made it play a song.

At some point, I found a blank car key. It was purple, I remember (in the context of the dream) I bought it in order to make a copy of my current cars key. It had a Honda logo Keychain on it.

The day previous: I had spent a good few hours reading the traumdeutung, specifically chapter 6, part e on representation by symbols. Here, freud mentions a level of dreams that seems to be a universal system of dream symbols. These are the sexual symbols. Among them was a lock and key representing sex.

That evening Chris decided to join me and we went to the sex club. Chris had just broken up with Adriana that afternoon. We talked about the breakup and how it went, she was very mature about it. Chris mentioned feeling a little manic, he said something like "I'll go and get drunk and party". Chris brought a box of merlot. I had a sweet wine. Chris mentioned wanting to pick up meditation I offered to lend him my book about it. He talked about feeling like his greek God is aphrodite on account of everyone falls in love with him and he has to break their hearts. He asked me if I had ordinarily planned to go alone and I said yes, I then made a "joke," i said "you get used to going to things alone when your unlovable" to which Chris replied "your not unlovable ect." Chris quickly decided he had enough wine, later in the night he gave me what was left of his box.

I was in latex that evening and I need to be shined up. I asked Chris to help me, this was a conscious attempt to seduce him. He rubbed all over my back and I was hoping he would also rub down my butt but he stopped. He then mentioned how stressed he was and I offered him a massage, he declined and said he just needed some time and space then asked to speak to other people.

He gave me access to his merlot which was much more powerful than the wine I had broght. I was very drunk by the end of the night, I was unsuccessful in having sex. I fell asleep in one of the rooms and was woken up by staff. Embarrassed I made my way home, fell asleep and produced the dream before you.

Analysis:

The only memories I can recall from this dream is that at one point I had tried to learn to play the accordion but eventually gave up. Recently I've been thinking about picking up guitar again. I have no clue why it had the layout of a baby toy.

In terms of cleaning up the garbage pile, me and Chris had clean his apartment recently and I've always noticed that cleaning up a space usually means that a persons is becoming more engaged with the world. My first thoughts were that with Adriana gone, Chris is going to have to clean up the mess left behind. Also that I would have to clean up our discourse.

The key expressed an obvious meaning, as a blank key is has no lock for it to unlock, a penis with no vagina. This is a representation of the idea of being unlovable mentioned earlier in the night. Don't think however that what's being expressed here is some truth, the key apperes is the dream with no anxiety attached to it. This is not the approach of the real. It served the same purpose it did in the waking world, a persona I put on to attract sympathy. To put it another way: this was a dream not a nightmare, the key gives expression to this recognition of myself as unlovable only so far as to keep me asleep, to keep me from encountering something more real.

There is a general theme of embarrassment and humiliation going on here. My relationship with chris has always had this element also, I feel attracted to him but he's indifferent about me. occasionally, I'll try to seduce him then feel guilty. All the while, I feel humiliated for still pining for him after a year but I know I'm always gonna wonder if I could have done it if I give up. He is the first person in a long time that i feel something for. I wish I could move on, I wish I could fully embrace this. Is this worth my time? There might also be an element here of Chris being very tense from the breakup and that scaring me a little bit.

#freud #digital diary #diary #dream #dream interpretation #sigmund freud #dreams

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saturnsorbits · 2 years ago

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This piece is an ache. Hopeful, yet heavy – this piece unpicks the difficult emotions in the aftermath of a truly unknowable loss.

An impossible chasm that stretches, yawning across the page enveloping every inch of its audience, this piece manages to both unearth and expose while being gentle. Refusing to shy away from the more difficult topics, Mint once again proves to us their talent by producing one of the most compellingly honest pieces I have read since their short series 'Ten Months'. Every single inch of this piece drips with it's creative control, it is a tribute not only to the loss of a child, to the pressures this can place upon a relationship, but to honesty and depth – to not shying away from the often brutal and real.

Side note: I simply can not tell you how much I adore Mint as a writer. Truly, an unstoppable talent – and someone who has endless ability. From the use of their own specially curated tone, to the topics they turn their hand to – regardless of the topic, Mint absolutely delivers every single time.

I am so incredibly thankful that you chose to share your works with us, for this little place of ours truly would not be the same without it. I hang from your every word...

From the get go, this piece sets its tone carefully. The sentence structure and grammar is a testament to this. In even those first opening paragraphs, we get this: 'The sound is almost covered by the distant mumblings of the radio, but his timbre, throaty and familiar, carries, creeping down the hall to where it isn't supposed to be'. Firstly, the use of an extended, complex sentence, produces a sense of stasis – something Reader and Kirishima are living through as they battle with their grief; which allows the audience to be suspended with them. This, therefore, unites us, tying us to these characters. In addition to this, the use of parasynthetic commas surrounding the soft verb 'carries' furthers is effect, while adding in a sense of distance and separation. The seperation too is both physical and symbolic of the emotional distance being encountered between Reader and Kirishima. This is then bolstered by the emotionally charged line that declares Kirishima's voice 'where it isn't supposed to be'. On the other side, we also have a grain of hope laced within this sentence – Kirishima's voice being described as 'throaty and familiar', indicating the heaviness and yet, the hope that lingers throughout these two, although muted with their tragic situation.

The characterisation within this piece too, is second to none. There's a delicate balance at play, one that mirrors the eggshells upon which these two people walk as we are given just enough context to understand the situation without being too heavy handed with the topic. Despite these two people dealing with the same situation, this piece is able to convey the different sense of pain felt by both of these people as they deal with the situation. The attention paid to Reader's pain is clear and obvious, with dull lines such as 'I've been pregnant three times too' that seem to ricochet around the room. Meanwhile, Kirishima's pain is also catered too – exposed by the piece as we learn that he 'can't just say it' and when he expresses that Reader 'do[esn't] get to be mean with [him]... [He] lost him too.'. It is in this representation, this attention and care of the emotions in these two characters that this piece comes into it's own. Furthermore, the presence of the outside world in the form of Bakugo's phone call and Kirishima's dull croak of 'I know, we're next' is another oppressive force enacting upon this pair forcing them to confront the unconfrontable.

It's heart-wrenching and real and absolutely stunning.

Of course, this piece doesn't seek answers... Instead, it leaves us in the midst of this, exposed to the rawest of emotions as it attempts to ask 'But how are you supposed to live with something your husband can't even talk about in public?'

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! Mind the tags!!

TW: angst, mentions of child loss, cisfem reader with she/her pronouns

Kirishima’s voice echoes down the hall, despite how he tries to keep it quiet. The sound is almost covered by the distant mumblings of the radio, but his timbre, throaty and familiar, carries, creeping down the hall to where it isn’t supposed to be. With your eyes closed, you can picture him, with his outside coat still pulled over his shoulders and mismatched shoes crammed into his feet.

“Hey, congrats, man,” he says. The phone had rung a couple minutes ago and without a doubt, you know who’s on the other line and what they’re talking about. Only Bakugo would call this early in the morning, only one topic needs to be whispered, “I’m really happy for you. Tell your wife I said congrats too.”

He shifts, socked feet sliding against the carpet. The hot compress pressed into your stomach lost its heat hours ago, but still, you clutch at it, pulling at it through the covers. No matter how you try to settle in, your bed offers no comfort, so you lay there and don’t even try to sleep, listening to a conversation that you know will make you hurt.

“Uh, yeah- maybe. Soonish. I, uh- yeah. I know, we’re next,” Kirishima whispers. A singer once told you that whispering is harder on your vocal cords than talking and you can hear it now, tearing up his voice the lower he tries to go, scratching it unbearably raw. “Listen, I gotta go. We were at the hospital last night, so— Yeah, we’re fine. She’s fine. I’ll explain another day, okay?”

He exhales. It’s shaky. “I’ll explain later. Bye.”

Kirishima sighs with the weight of the world and you feel it too, crushing your rib cage. Every breath aches like your body doesn’t want to take it.

Your husband stands in the hall for a long time, still and sighing, pulling each breath deep before letting it out again through his teeth. Eventually, he slinks into the room, tiptoeing over to his side of the bed. He knows you aren’t asleep-

How could you fall asleep after that?

“Hey,” he tucks his legs under him as he settles into bed and you roll over to face him. Bags have settled under his eyes, dark and creased from tears he hasn’t yet shed. For now, in front of you, he stays strong, unbreakable even without the quirk.

“Are… are you still cramping?” he stumbles over himself, “I can heat that thing up again.”

There’s a familiar knot in your lower stomach that comes and goes, but shake your head anyway. If it hurts, it feels real.

"Just let me know,” he rubs his knuckles down your arm, “Anything for you.”

You need him to say it. The knowledge you’re not supposed to have itches.

Keep reading

#saturnsuggests

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saltpepperbeard · 2 years ago

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so are y’all like me and fixate on the fact that stede has two pillows/an open space available every time you see a shot of his bed or are you normal

#OFMD #Our Flag Means Death #Stede Bonnet #Revenge Rambles #Gentlebeard #Blackbonnet #Because let's be real lol LET'S BE REAL #It makes me want to walk into the ocean <3 #Like it's such a small detail #And it might be an entirely inconsequential detail #But every time I see the space I'm always like #*whispers* that's ed's #might as well stick a little sign on the pillow that's like 'reserved for ed'#Something something symbolic representation of him having room in his heart for another something something #And I KNOOOWW they probably won't have this exact sleeping set up because of everything that's going on with the Revenge #But still #EVEN STILL

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aspoonofsugar · 4 years ago

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Your Power...Your Theme

This post is born because of @waywardtravelerfart asking about a comparison between Semblances (Rwby) and Quirks (BNHA).

In general, I am not a hardcore BNHA fan, though, so I decided to drag other magic systems in this comparison.

So, I will be comparing...

1) Semblances:

2) Quirks:

3) Nen (HxH):

4) Abilities (BSD):

5) Magic (WHA):

Body and Soul

1) & 3)

Pyrrha: Aura is the manifestation of our soul. It bears our burdens and shields our hearts. Have you ever felt you were being watched without knowing that someone was there? With practice, our Aura can be our shield. Everyone has it, even animals.

Nen and Semblances are very similar ideas. Both have their root in the concept of aura aka life force and are trained through specific exercises that are based on martial arts.

More importantly, they are manifestations of a person’s soul.

This is why in both series they are linked to one’s individuality:

Ren: A common philosophy is that a warrior’s Semblance is a part of who they are.

And both Nen and Semblances grow and evolve with the person.

At the same time, both stories focus not only on the soul, but also on the body.

In HxH Gon and Killua must train their bodies just as much as their nen. No matter how much stronger their auras become, they would still be left defenseless if they forget about basic training and if they do not take care of their bodies.

Similarly, Huntsmen and Huntresses in Rwby have both Semblances and Weapons:

By baring your soul outward as a force, you can deflect harm. All of our tools and equipment are conduits for Aura. You protect yourself and your soul when fighting.

Weapons are linked to personalities just like Semblances are:

Ruby: Just weapons? They’re an extension of ourselves! They’re a part of us! Oh, they’re so cool.

It is only through the combination of weapons and semblances that one becomes strong and whole.

In order to experience humanity to its fullest, one needs both a soul:

And a body:

In short, Semblances and Nen are representative of the Soul. They are a physical projection of it. Moreover, they need to be completed by the Body to properly work.

BSD abilities are similar because they clearly symbolize characters’ coping mechanisms.

They are linked to people’s personalities and their effects are highly variegated and impossible to explain through biology alone (for example, a character is able to materialize a whole room in another dimension).

At the same time, they seem to have some physical properties.

For example, it is possible to create artificial abilities and to implant them into people. The process has yet to be properly explained, though.

This can be compared to the research on aura made in Rwby.

That said, this specific research is framed negatively by the narrative because it is an attempt to control what it should not be (a person’s soul).

Similary, in BSD, such experiments are criticized as well because they violate human rights and are an attempt to weaponize abilities, which is an ongoing topic explored by the story.

Quirks are instead framed as the result of biological evolution. This creates an interesting inversion compared to the other stories. Quirks are not simply physical representations of a character’s psychology, but they are a part of the reason why that character develops a specific coping mechanism.

Toga is attracted to blood because her Quirk is about drinking blood, so she naturally likes it.

Shigaraki’s destruction traumatizes him because it leads to his family’s death.

Touya’s weak constitution makes his power difficult to use, hence he develops self-hurting tendencies.

Finally, Magic in WHA is something that exists outside the characters.

It is not something people are born with, but an art they can master through study and dedication.

Its origin is still unknown, but it is explained that it works thanks to specific materials:

And even human blood can be used to strengthen it:

In short, Magic is a human art that makes use of specific natural resources and a specific knowledge to create several effects. In a sense, its logic is similar to both art and programming. It is similar to art because the witches need to exercise on drawing and to be creative on their approaches to things. It is similar to programming because they must use what is basically a specific language made of symbols to create different effects.

So, Magic is not linked to a person’s soul in the way other magical systems are, but a character’s personality still emerges from the kind of magic they specialize in. This is something unavoiable... after all this is how personality works in real life as well... we all have different approaches to problems and beliefs that will emerge in our art and in our jobs.

In conclusion, all these magical systems are connected in different ways to characters’ personalities, to their flaws and to their symbolic roles in the narrative.

In these metas, there are some examples of how this happens for HxH, Rwby, BSD and WHA.

Power and Privilege

3) & 5)

Nen and Magic are similar:

With enough training, both powers can be used by everyone.

However, both HxH society and WHA society choose to keep them secret because the damage that could come from sharing this knowledge is potentially devastating.

That said, both stories also show how there is hypocrisy behind this stance.

HxH does so in an indirect way.

Nen is supposed to be secret, so that dangerous people can’t use its power for wrong reasons.

However, many hunters are not really moral people. If anything many are violent and ready to kill. The exam itself encourages these tendencies since it does not punish murderers. Moreover, it turns out that very dangerous people already know about nen:

WHA explores this theme more directly:

The secret behind magic creates inequality. Magic could be used to help much more people, but it is limited by the law that imposes witches to keep the secret and forbids them from using magic to heal.

The result is an unjust society and a paradox. Isn’t there another way to use magic that it is less elitarian?

2) Similarly, quirks create inequality in BNHA. However, the mechanisms behind it are slightly different.

Not only people without quirks are discriminated, but also people with specific powers are considered less than others.

This happens either because the power is considered weak or lame or because it is considered a villain power.

In other words, BNHA society nurtures a simplicistic and black and white vision of quirks and people. This leads to some being discriminated for their quirks and to others being excused of everything because of their abilities.

4) In BSD, we have a similar yet partly opposite situation.

Ability users are mostly dehumanized and weaponized by society.

Basically the series explores how society makes use of its more vulnerable members and objectifies them.

So, in BSD having an ability is not really a synomim of privilege, but it is rather something that can set you apart and make you a victim of your country or your organization.

Because of this,the characters struggle to both accept their powers, but also not to be defined by it.

1) Finally, the case of RWBY is interesting because even if society is founded on privilege and inequity, semblances are not really a pivotal part of it.

It is much more common for people to be discriminated because of their bodies (like the Faunus) or their social status than for their semblances. Surely, cases like those exist, but they are not particularly explored by the story.

This might be because semblances are just one of many factors that determine a personal’s stance in society. Moreover, it is not even that clear how much common people know about semblances and aura. I would not say it is exactly a secret, especially because semblances can manifest themselves in a variety of situations. Still, it seems to me that they are mostly aknowledged and accepted by common people, but not exactly pursued or studied.

Symbolically, semblances are linked to an ancient magic that has been forgotten by people. This could tie with why some people, especially in Atlas, have been dismissive of them to an extent. Whitley dismisses his own and is not interested in developing it, while Watts is one of the few characters who fight without a semblance.

It might very well be that human technology and dust make so many different effects possible that a semblance, even if important for a warrior’s own strength and individuality, is not really the only factor that determines the place of a person in society.

In conclusion, all these power systems are linked to privilege in different ways. They are used to explore social inequality or parts of the society that are either repressed or not aknowledged.

Choices and limits

1) 2) & 4)

Quirks, Abilities, Semblances and their limits are not chosen. You are born with them and the most you can do is to try and overcome the limitations or to come up with clever ways to use your power.

You can train your Quirk, so that it becomes stronger.

When it comes to Abilities instead, characters usually must train to control what are potentially dangerous powers.

There are also abilities that help other people to control their powers and modify how these powers work. For example, there is a character whose ability is about summoning a fighting avatar. However, to do so, she needs to be called on a specific phone and it is actually the one calling that commands the avatar. Still, thanks to the influence of the above mentioned ability, she becomes able to summon the avatar at will and does not need the phone anymore.

Finally, in the case of Semblances, you need to meditate and to train your semblance, so that it can evolve. At the same time, though, semblance evolution can happen also because of specifical psychological conditions.

For example, Ren’s Tranquility both activates and evolves not because of physical training, but because of stress (the first time) and emotional growth (the second). This is fitting because his ability has mostly to do with emotions, so it is telling that it evolves as he grows emotionally rather than physically.

Ruby’s semblance is instead a physical one since she is super fast. So it is fitting that it mostly manifests and evolves with her training at using it.

Finally, when it comes to semblances, you do not really choose how they evolve and what new effects you gain. They are mostly an unconscious part of yourself that grows with you.

3) & 5)

The kind of magic you specialize in and the nen power you are gonna have are things one chooses.

To be more specific, they are influenced from one’s talents, but then they evolve according to a person’s choice.

For example, the protagonist Gon has an aura which is particularly good to strengthen things, so he chooses to use it to strengthen his punch. Moreover, he really likes Jankenpon, so he comes up with a power that uses this game. It is a technique that creates different effects depending on what he chooses to “play” (scissors, rock or paper).

Similarly, Coco is good at drawing straight lines and this makes her good with basic magic, that she uses in original ways because of her thinking outside the box. Her teacher Qifrey instead specializes in water magic because he used to be scared of water when he was little and wanted to overcome this fear.

At the same time, both nen users and witches must face limitations.

Nen has limitations that are self-imposed and decided by the users.

Magic has limitations that are imposed by society and codified through law.

Nen works with the idea that the stronger the limitation you set, the stronger will be your power. Similarly, if you sacrifice something, you can obtain a more powerful effect.

For example, another character called Kurapika creates chains with different powers. One of his chains has the limitation to only work on the members of a specific criminal group. Moreover, if Kurapika breaks this rule, he’ll lose his life. Since the sacrifice Kurapika has decided is pretty extreme, that chain is basically impossible to break.

Of course, limitations do not need to be so extreme. The protagonist’s jankenpon is limited by the fact he says out loud the name of his technique and takes time to use it (both goes against him, since it gives his opponent time to prepare). In this way the power gets stronger.

Magic is a very dangerous force, so it is prohibited to use magic on people’s bodies. This includes the idea that you can’t heal bodies directly or that you can’t change the way you look. It also forbids people from using blood to make magic stronger and to put glyphs on a person’s skin.

These limitations challenge the characters and force them to think outside the box. For example, Coco wants to save her mom who became a stone. The best way to do so is to use magic on her, but this is prohibited hence Coco keeps brainstorming about how she can do it and even thinks about breaking the law multiple times.

In conclusion, powers are often linked to the self and the degree of control and choices characters have on them is symbolic of which part of the self we are talking about.

In the case of semblances and abilities, they mirror an unconscious part.

A Quirk is a biological factor that influences one’s self instead and that everyone can try ot develop in a way they like.

Finally, nen and magic are a conscious part of the self that still mirrors unconscious tendencies.

Not only that, but abilties have limits that come from either outside the person or inside them.

POWER SYSTEMS AND THE FIVE KINDS OF CONFLICT

In stories, there are at least five types of conflict.

1) Man vs Self

2) Man vs Society

3) Man vs Man

4) Man vs Nature

5) Man vs God

The magic systems we explored are linked to at least three of these five types.

Man vs Self

Supernatural abilities are linked to a person’s interiority and personality. Often they are representative of the character’s flaw and their limits can be overcome only by the person’s growth.

Man vs Society

Power systems end up being influenced and influence fictional societies.

They can represent privilege or some wrongdoing in society itself.

Alternatively, they can be limited by society’s rules and imposed laws.

Man vs Man

It is not uncommon to have special powers used in fights. In this case, they become symbolic ways to explore characters’ relationships, themes and different value systems.

This is something that BSD, HxH and Rwby do a lot. WHA has had less fights as for now, but it is definately something that has come up and will come up more in the future. Finally, I am not too much into BNHA to comment on the series, but I would be surprised if it is not the same there as well.

In conclusion, I do not really have much to say on the onthology of powers in different narrative worlds and tbh I do not think this is really what many writers think about when they design them. I think what writers focus on is how to make interesting powers that convey a character’s personality, can be used to explore the world and give life to entertaining fights.

#hxh #bnha #rwby #bsd #wha #waywardtravelerfart #meta #my meta #magic system

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tuiyla · 5 years ago

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Sentimental Affection: Hambo, the Shirt, and Objects of Psychic Resonance

Adventure Time and the mundane, aka Daddy, why did you eat my fries?

Ever a show to be full of hidden symbolism and so much more under the surface than its 11-minute runtime would allow, Adventure Time uses seemingly mundane objects like a teddy bear or a T-shirt to convey the monumental importance of character dynamics. This doesn’t only apply to objects but actual parts of one’s self, like Finn’s arm and the interwoven significance of his many swords. And then, there’s Marceline.

Like with many of the show’s more complex aspects, this is especially prevalent in Marceline’s story. How do you stress the sheer volume of having lived for a thousand years? How do you signify the lack of letting go of the past, lack of maturity? You give a girl a teddy bear and have her hold on to it for as long as she can. And it’s not just Hambo that adds unexpected depth to Marceline’s character and her relationship with others. There’s the infamous rock shirt, which we’ll get to, and then there’s the French fries eaten by Hunson Abadeer.

As iconic as the Fry Song has become and as synonymous with the complex Abadeer father-daughter relationship as it is, it seems silly, at first glance, that Marceline would be so upset over that simple transgression. But Adventure Time has a special talent for making the mundane whimsical and significant, so through the context of the full song, through little glimpses here and there, we understand the symbolism of the fries. It’s Hunson’s disregard for Marceline’s feelings, his carelessness, his lack of understanding, that really matters.

Just a teddy in the wreckage of the world

So what about Hambo? Hambo is, for a while, everything to Marceline. Hambo is the one representation of her relationship with Simon that she has left. It’s a remnant from the wreckage of the world, a plushie given to a scared little girl by an equally scared old man. It’s the one thing Simon leaves behind when he abandons Marcy, for her own good, and summons Hunson to take care of her instead. But Hunson eats those fries and so Marceline takes the family axe instead and keeps it as safe as she keeps Hambo.

Hambo stays with Marceline long after she turns into a vampire, ever a symbol of the tragic childhood she lost and yet is stuck in. It’s not a coincidence that she’s implied to tolerate much of Ash’s jerkish behaviour but draws the line when he sells Hambo for a new wand. That’s the only thing of Simon, the real Simon that she has left and it matters more than a boyfriend who doesn’t care about that. Disregard for Hambo is disregard for her. So Marceline keeps moving all across Ooo, both to escape from this new, twisted version of Simon and to find the one thing that proves he wasn’t always like this.

You kept the shirt I gave you?

Let’s take a break from Hambo for a moment. Let’s picture a time long before Finn washed up on the shores of Ooo, before the Candy Kingdom grew into what it is today. Marceline and Bonnibel are friends, maybe more - details depend on whatever nuggets “Obsidian” gives us. For a while, it works, and Marceline gives Bonnie a rock T-shirt. That shirt is so quintessentially Marcy that it becomes a symbol of their relationship when it’s with PB. The two drift apart, though, as Bonnie becomes known as Princess Bubblegum to everyone else and Marceline leaves before she can be left behind. The shirt becomes a sort of inverse of Hambo: a token of love that’s - as Marceline initially thinks - never cared for. Bitter as she might be over this, Marcy leaves it all behind as she left Hunson with the fries. She never really got to grow beyond being that young girl who was left Hambo in the snow.

Except, Finn does come along, eventually, and he brings Bonnie and Marcy together again. It’s intense and Marceline lashes out because, well, sorry she’s such an inconvenience. But in truth, it’s Marceline who tags along to defeat the Door Lord despite having no stakes in the mater, and it’s PB who wants to get her precious possession back. Her treasure is, of course, Marceline’s shirt. The one she always has worn, just in the comfort of her own room or under something else. Not out in the open, one might say, but constantly nonetheless, even long after Marceline was gone from her life. A reminder of what they had as much as Hambo is a reminder of who Simon was to Marcy.

That’s the wonder of “What Was Missing”. It lampshades the potential cheesiness of the message, that being “the real treasure is friendship”, but it is genuine in how it portrays that message beyond what would be expected of a kids’ cartoon. Finn keeps a piece of Bubblegum’s hair, but PB is right there to hang out with whenever they want to. Bonnie keeps Marcy’s shirt because she thinks it’s as close as she’ll get to be around her again, but Marceline tagged along just for the joy of being around them. What these two examples have in common is that both Finn and PB want something more from the relationship with the actual person, something they think is unattainable, so they hold on to the objects instead of reaching out.

I’ll get your kid back, toy

So what about Hambo and Marceline reaching out to Simon? When the Ice King inevitably finds her, again, Marceline is rightfully frustrated and just about ready to pack up and move again. But she’s grown these past few years since Finn entered her life and helped her face her past demons. It breaks her heart but she starts accepting Simon back into her life. They hang out and she insists on calling him Simon, because she never stopped viewing him that way. She knows who he used to be, even if he doesn’t, and she clings onto the representation of that hope, Hambo.

Marceline is already in a much better place by the time “Sky Witch” rolls around than she was at the start of the series. She kind of has Hunson, Simon and Bonnie in her life again. It’s all a bit complicated and unresolved - ”Stakes” isn’t for another two seasons - but she’s on her way. That doesn’t mean she’s gonna let the opportunity to get Hambo back pass by, so she asks for Bonnie’s help. It’s a bit awkward but she spent all this time being angry and feeling like she wasn’t good enough when PB cared enough to at least keep the shirt, so maybe that’s as much hope as Hambo is for Simon. And that’s exactly what “Sky Witch” proves, as Bonnie’s level-headedness helps Marcy navigate Maja’s treacherous turf and gets her Hambo back.

There's only one Hambo

There’s a misconception, a common and understandable one, but a misconception nonetheless when it comes to the shirt and Hambo. When Maja says that Hambo’s psychic resonance is nothing compared to the shirt’s, it’s easy to see the implication being that the shirt is that much more important. Therefore, Marceline is that much more important to PB than Simon is to Marcy. This isn’t entirely inaccurate but I also think that what’s important here is not to put these two objects and therefore the two relationships on the same scale. It implies that we’re comparing the familial type of love between Simon and Marcy to the romantic love between Bonnie and Marcy and that’s just a false and pointless comparison. Instead, the significance once again comes through trademark Adventure Time subtlety.

“What Was Missing” was mainly the Bubbline dynamic from Marcy’s perspective: her hurt, her anger over not knowing why it all ended. The twist with the shirt at the end only hints at PB’s side of things and “Sky Witch” takes it home. From the little moments at the beginning of the episode to the revelation that PB gave up the shirt for Hambo, it’s a full package. It’s in everything, including the scene where Peebs dismisses Hambo’s importance. It’s just a doll, totally replaceable, an insinuation which insults Marcy deeply. Bonnie doesn’t necessarily get why Hambo is so important but, in a way, PB does understand. She understands, because Hambo is to Marceline what the shirt is for her: hope.

When PB gives up the shirt, she gives up the only piece of Marceline she’s had for all these centuries. It wasn’t replaceable, just like Hambo wasn’t, but by giving it up she gives Marceline her most treasured possession, her hope. And you know what else? By giving up this remnant of the past, Bonnie gets Marceline back. “Sky Witch”, then, is the beginning of their new dynamic, as the lesson from the Door Lord finally sinks in. And by equating, in a way, Hambo and the shirt, after we’ve already seen in “I Remember You” and “Simon & Marcy” how monumental that relationship is, this makes Bonnie’s devotion to Marcy clear as day.

Magic, madness, sadness, and all the rest

Hambo becomes something even bigger in “Betty”. The reason why Maja wanted Hambo and then the shirt in the first place is because Adventure Time acknowledges within the logic of its own universe how important the love poured into these objects is. She uses the magic of the shirt and Simon uses the magic of Hambo. Marceline, reluctantly, lets go of Hambo because she just got Simon back, just as PB let go of the shirt and got Marcy back. Nothing is ever that straightforward in the land of Ooo, though, so Hambo brings Betty back but it can’t save Simon. Now Marceline got a taste of the old Simon, had hope, and it lives on in the person they sacrificed Hambo for: Betty.

Betty’s hope is misguided, though. With her time jump to modern day Ooo, a journey of denial and desperation begins that leads her and the whole land down a road of magic and madness. Betty’s shenanigans is its own separate post, really, and all the themes of acceptance, denial and change they represent. What I find fascinating in this context is how, again, in true AT style, the butterfly effect did its magic and the mundane lead into the whimsical and grandiose.

Right there where you left it, lying upside down

Simon gave a little Marcy her teddy doll and Ash carelessly passed it on. Marceline gave Bubblegum a rock shirt, something so quintessentially her that it was the one thing Peebs held onto even after all those years. The shirt was a symbol of their lingering connection and its sacrifice meant the start of a new chapter. The significance of the shirt was enough to get Hambo back, which in turn was powerful enough for Simon to get Betty back. And, eventually, by moving almost literal heaven and hell, Betty brings Simon back. Everything stays, but it still changes.

The shirt is not Marceline. Hambo is not Simon. Objects are not people, nor can we only be with people if we let go of those objects. That isn’t the message the show is going for. And these objects are only catalysts for character arc and dynamics in most cases, anyway. Marceline doesn’t grow up by letting Hambo go, she succeeds in leaving the past behind in “Stakes”. And, if the “Obsidian” trailer is any indication, even that doesn’t mean she’s done with all her demons.

What the intertwined stories of Hambo and the shirt tell us is that complex, emotional stories can be told through simple objects. A teddy doll can signify a thousand years of pain and yet provide hope, while a rock T-shirt can pack some good old-fashioned queer yearning into it. Hambo and the shirt aren’t even monumental parts of Marceline’s, Simon’s and Bubblegum’s stories, even if Adventure Time finds clever ways to use them in the plot. They are just two simple things that represent so much in terms of character development and some of the show’s central dynamics, and that’s damn good storytelling.

#bubbline #adventure time #marceline abadeer #princess bubblegum #obsidian #at #pb #hambo #simon petrikov #my thoughts #missed writing about at

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whumpster-fire · 4 years ago

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Extremely Hot His Dark Materials Take:

The conventional wisdom that daemons’ settled forms represent who you truly are as a person and are a unique, symbolic representation of it is what’s said in-universe but it isn’t true, or at the very least isn’t the whole truth. IDC what Philip Pullman’s said is actually canon, stuff like “Servants usually have dog demons because they have a submissive/servile nature” is really not plausible fite me.

Animal symbolism is a social construct and is not universal among cultures, and just like the alethiometer symbols, an animal species can have many meanings. As a result, for any one person there are usually many species which are a “valid” representation of their soul, and which one their daemon actually settles as is not set in stone from birth. Daemons don’t consciously choose their settled form - and humans certainly don’t - but it reflects a variety of influences, including symbolic “nature” but also cultural influences, social pressures, what animals the daemon actually knows about, the nature of the relationship between the human and daemon, and what forms are physically comfortable or practical. But the common uniting factor in all of those is that a daemon’s form reflects what you want and need as much as what you are. Not superficial wants, but deep deep psychological needs and what’s important to you. And sometimes fears as well.

Factor #1: Societal Bias

Strong cultural predispositions toward settled form, combined with form stereotyping. I think it was said in the books that “most servants had dog daemons because deep down they wanted to be told what to do.” Think about this: is this likely to be true? Given that people generally wind up in jobs by luck of the draw and by what’s available, and most people even in the most socially mobile modern societies usually don’t end up in their “true calling,” and in Lyra’s world your occupation seems to very often be determined by your birth. Do you really think all the kids like Roger Parslow, who’s working as a kitchen boy because his aunt who was a servant at Jordan College raised him, are naturally subservient? Well, is everyone who works in a service industry job IRL naturally subservient? Hell no! However, this is a very, very convenient lie for a classist society that teaches people that they were born into a “station” in society to tell. If your daemon settles as a dog, obviously you were meant to be a servant all along, and you and your daemon spending your entire childhood being told that because this is the station you’re being born and raised into your daemon should be a dog or some other “appropriate” form and couldn’t possibly cause them to be biased towards canine forms by this.

But if a daemon takes a form that’s obviously unfit for their station, clearly your true calling is elsewhere and it was never truly meant to be. It’s hard to falsify as long as most daemons are settling in “expected” forms. And most do, at least to an extent. A daemon’s form is influenced by drives and desires, and while most people don’t necessarily want to be bossed around and told what to do, most people do want to fit in.

And having fairly broad categories of “expected” can help that, because that gives room for daemons to find a form within that category that genuinely fits their nature. Someone extremely independent and strong-willed but growing up always expected to be a servant might end up with a husky daemon. Someone with a leading (or even controlling) personality might have a herding breed. The same goes for Gyptians and Witches being expected to usually have bird daemons.

On the other hand people with certain daemon forms might also be actively recruited for certain jobs, based on both symbolism and the physical abilities of that form - e.g. the Tartar mercenaries and other soldiers seem to almost all have wolf daemons. These may be very common in their culture to begin with, and then there’s further selection based on the symbolism of “You’re a wolf, you’re powerful, noble, and a natural killer but you’re a loyal pack animal, you’d make a great soldier.” But then in addition to that, because of the no touching rules, people in jobs where they fight other people are at an advantage if their daemon can fight other daemons.

Factor #2: Age

Settling age is... around early-to-mid puberty it seems like. I’ve seen speculation that it would be later in more modern societies as the age of maturity drifts over, but it seems like 12-14 is fairly common. But brain development continues until around 25. Like... seriously. Daemons are settling when their humans would be middle-schoolers in our world. People mature and change a huge amount in that decade of “settled but not fully mature.” Unless daemons can presciently predict how they’ll change over time - or if the soul’s nature is fixed and people tend to change in away that approaches that over time - your daemon’s form may be based on what you were like at settling age.

Factor #3: Knowledge and Familiarity

His Dark Materials is mostly based in Europe / Northern Eurasia, and the vast, vast majority of the settled daemon forms in the novels are native to that region. Off the top of my head the exceptions are Stelmaria (a snow leopard, native to the Himalayas but that’s still an animal she and Lord Asriel could have encountered / read about as a child), Mrs. Coulter’s daemon (a monkey, I don’t think we’re ever told what species. Not native to Europe but again Marisa had the resources to travel, read about exotic species, visit zoos, etc and everything about them is weird, IIRC the African soldiers in Amber Spyglass had various african daemon forms (so, where they’re actually from), and Hester. Hester’s the most important because while she took the form of an arctic hare, which is native to North America where Lee’s from, her form is native to a completely different part of North America, that she and Lee probably wouldn’t have been familiar with, and it took years for anyone including her to even notice.

This suggests daemons may be able to take forms that are unknown to them, but we never see a raccoon or an oppossum or a bobcat or some australian animal as a daemon as far as I know, so my best guess is that they had some secondhand knowledge of the arctic and had at least seen what an Arctic Hare looked like but forgot how to tell one apart from a jackrabbit, Hester had an unconscious longing for the North that neither of them were aware of, and she had a strong and possibly less-unconscious desire to get the hell out of Texas at sometime around settling age. And they assumed she was a jackrabbit because daemons usually don’t take forms they’re not familiar with.

Factor #4: Physical Preference

A daemon is not a shadow or a heraldic crest - they’re not just an insubstantial symbolic reflection. A daemon is an integral part of a person’s being, and they are one, but at the same time the daemon are a living, breathing creature even if their physical body is unstable. One soul, two bodies, two minds, two personalities. Their form subjects them to some - although not all - of the physical abilities and limitations that animal would have, and the same sensations.

Again, a daemon’s form is often influenced by what’s important to them, and to the pair. Most daemons take on a huge number of forms throughout childhood, and there are some things about those forms that are important to them. For some daemons the freedom of movement of flight is a fun, childish thing to play around with, and perhaps tactically useful, but it isn’t torture to give it up. For others, flight and the freedom it represents are their very heart and to be bound to a grounded form forever would be unbearable. Some can’t give up the ability to take small forms that can hide and go unnoticed, but some hate the vulnerability and helplessness of small size and could never be happy in a form that can’t walk alongside their human without fear of being kicked or stepped on. Some can’t give up the joy of swimming, or climbing, and for some their humans can’t. The daemon of someone who is a mountaineer and climber in their soul won’t be a snapping turtle. And... this is complicated, because part of it’s the human’s nature, but part of it is tied up in experiences which the human can feel too, and that are important to them, but they don’t experience in quite the same way.

Sometimes it’s just too convenient. Witches’ daemons are nearly always birds because witches spend much of their time in the air and can separate from their daemons, and only with flight of their own can a daemon take advantage of this power; in a flightless form they would take far longer to travel any distance, and their witches would have to land every time they separated or reunited. Another animal, like a fox or a mink or a rabbit, might fit with a witch’s nature too, but a witch’s daemon will become a hawk or a heron or a dove instead.

And sometimes a certain from is just comfortable and it just feels right even though the symbolism might not fit the stereotypes.

Factor #5: Human-Daemon Relationships

This is something I talked about a bit in my post about autism and daemons: the form a daemon settles as is often affected by the nature of their relationship with their human.

First of all: barring severe internal conflict or mental illness, while a daemon’s settled form is not chosen by the human and does not follow their whims, they don’t take a form that makes their shared life inconvenient and miserable. Out of how many sailors, John Faa and Farder Corram knew what, one guy with a dolphin daemon? Usually sailors’ daemons would be seabirds or otters, or animals like cats and rats that aren’t technically aquatic but are well-adapted to living on a boat. Does this mean that the sea isn’t their true love? No: it means no matter how much you love the sea being trapped on a ship for their entire life (and not even the entire ship: how high in the rigging can you climb without going too far from your daemon who can’t leave the water?) sucks and is actively dangerous. Imagine your ship is wrecked and your daemon carries you to shore through the storm (because humans die of hypothermia if left in the water too long in many parts of the oceans)... except you’re literally unable to get out of reach of the crashing waves that will drown you, sweep you away, or batter you to death, without dragging your daemon up the beach and then they’re stranding and dying, and you can’t go get fresh water which your body needs because your soul is an anchor binding you to the water. How many things that are a sailor’s job are you unable to do because you can’t go more than like ten yards from water deep enough to swim in?

Daemons do not consciously choose their forms, but their subconscious is not stupid. Taking a form like a dolphin doesn’t mean the daemon is symbolically expressing their nature, it means the human is denying it to the point where their own daemon is afraid of being torn away from it and cannot trust their human. But again, this event is happening at middle-school age, so what’s likely happening is something like a 14-year-old cabin boy falling in love with a girl in town and wanting to marry her and move inland and abandon the sea forever, and his daemon being horrified by the idea and wanting to make sure it can. not. happen. ever. And then both of their lives are ruined. Meanwhile the other cabin boy on the boat had a non-dysfunctional relationship with his daemon, who settled as a seagull and trusts that when he goes to visit family a little ways inland for a couple days it won’t be permanent.

Anyway: disregarding dysfunctional people like Mrs. Coulter, some humans and daemons are more physically affectionate with their counterparts than others, and in different ways.

Some pairs are happy spending most of their time at the edge of their not-painful range. Some pairs are perfectly comfortable with the daemon taking a tiny form and hiding in their human’s coat pocket most of the time and sneaking around the rest, and with the daemon hardly ever speaking to other humans, and that closeness and the moments of being held in the palm of their human’s hand and being stroked gently with one or two fingers is perfect for them. Some pairs are content with the distance a form like a bird of prey imposes, where the daemon must perch near their human because their claws would injure them if they landed on their shoulder or arm without protective clothing.

But many people and daemons are more “touchy” with each other, for whom the physical nature of the bond between human and daemon cannot possibly be given up. Some daemons settle in the forms they took to fly, or to hide, or spy, or fight, but many settle in the forms they took to rest, to soothe and comfort, to lick wounds and let their fur or feathers be stroked, to share body heat, and sometimes to help hold their humans upright or drag them to safety. Some pairs are content with the daemon sleeping on windowsills or perched on bedposts or on nightstands, or under beds or at the feet of them, but some curl up under the covers together whenever they can.

In less poetic terms, daemons settling in fluffy, huggable forms because they and their humans have a deep-seated need to cuddle with each other is just as valid as daemons settling as birds because they need the freedom of flight.

This is often the case for children whose need for touch is not met properly by others, or those for whom it is too much, or it cannot be trusted. Parents, friends, and lovers aren’t always there, but they are always there for each other. But there’s not always trauma or neglect involved, and it’s not always people who have few or no close and intimate bounds outside themselves. Plenty of content, well-adjusted people still have relationships like this with their daemons because we’re human beings and touch is important to us, and it doesn’t really matter if you share a soul.

#His Dark Materials fandom #daemon #silly headcanons

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twink-frank · 4 years ago

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hi i’ve noticed the pencey prep gay conversation going on over on @awsugar and i have spent lots of time dissecting pencey prep lyrics and subjecting nathan @faggot-frank to my deranged ramblings so Here is my pencey prep super ultra mega gay lyrical analysis masterpost. it’s very long so its all under the cut but i will include a TL;DR for those who dont wanna read paragraphs of my deranged ramblings: Pencey prep uses lots of themes of: heartbreak, forbidden love, keeping love a secret, and toxic relationships. which none of that is gay on its own but combined with them almost never using gender indicators in their songs and the “nail in the coffin song” of 8th grade it ends up being a very Fruity Album.

I will be going through heart break in stereo in order and pointing out which lyrics and elements of certain songs jump out to me as Super Mega Gay and then summarizing my conclusions at the end <3

1 ) PS Don't Write

PS don't write is about leaving a toxic relationship, it has notes of moving on and leaving someone behind. "packed up all my shit / stole back all my tapes / left your spare key under the mat / this is not a joke / you'd better learn to take a hint / 'cause i'm not coming back / maybe you'll understand / when you're waking up alone / in a cold and empty bed." it has no gender indicators or pronouns which is the case in a lot of pencey prep songs, and something i'll bring up quite a bit. it also has general "coming of age" themes, something common in lots of pencey prep songs. which Yeah apply to straight people to but read in this context combined with future evidence can be pretty Fuckin Gay. "somewhere along the line / i found a hidden strength / i didn't know i had / standing on my own / cutting all the strings / that you used to control / surprise surprise / i am long gone / if you thought you could hold me down / by holding me up / you were wrong / you don't call the shots anymore." not to say only gay people can find inner strength and the room to love themselves but combined with other context it is a really poignant message about accepting yourself for who you are.

2) Yesterday

Yesterday is very repetitive and has a lot less to analyze, but the constant themes of wanting to "run away" strike me as very Fruity. once again, not saying gay people are the only people who can want to run away or escape from something But Combined With Other Context. and once again a song with no gender indicators, doesnt specify who the speaker is running away with or what they are running away from. just that they want to Leave. "i wanna run with you / i don't care what we do / gotta get out of this place / because it feels like yesterday." also saying "it feels like yesterday" could mean that the town feels backwards or old timey in its beliefs, implying homophobia. how the speaker wants to run away from an old fashioned town.

3) Don Quixote

i'm going to bring up the cultural significance of this title and literary reference first. Don Quixote is a classical novel by Cervantes which is about a crazy dude who thinks he's a knight, and goes on weird adventures with his best friend. It's typically used as a symbol of following your dreams and breaking free from what people expect of you. In the context of the song its used as a symbol of following your dreams with Someone. once again this someone is given no gender indicators. "you say it's not worth it / been burned too many times / if your spine's receding / you can borrow some of mine / don't go and quit right now / cause i'd follow you through hell." "you say so many things / and not a word of it was true / if you're still in that state of mind / i'd still vacation inside of you / cause i think you're worth every minute / and every dime that i spend / i'd spend all my time fighting dragons / just to keep you alive and talking." it's about wanting to spend time with someone, wanting to be with them no matter what. and its also about how this person feels unreachable, like being with them would be a fairytail but the speaker Still Reaches for it. "your imaginations running wild / round your deceptive heart / this is my crusade / and you're the unreachable star / but i'm reaching." talking about this person being unreachable and unattainble. which isnt gay By Itself but again combined with the other context. FRUIT BEHAVIOR.

4) 10 Rings

another breakup song once again with no gender indicators, are you guys sensing a theme here? anyways this song is about someone cutting you off and then coming back suddenly wanting to talk again after breaking your heart. it has a sense of forbidden love, like this person Told the speaker they cant be together for Whatever Reason ;] and is now trying to come back and repair their mistake when the speaker is already hurt and reeling. "learn to live with decisions you make / i learned things from the break i can't forget / catch you doing drive-bys at 1 AM / it must kill you to know we can't be friends." "end of the summer you cut me off / i cut you out all the pictures i have." which this Isnt Gay By Itself. but bringing that phrase back with other context this is such a uniquely gay experience. being in love with someone and they cut you off Because theyre weirded out by that and then they try to come back, convince you it meant nothing.

5) The Secret Goldfish

my FAVORITE pencey song. this one has a lot. it's another breakup song about heartbreak and loss and im not even gonna dwell on the no gender indicators because yall see the theme now. it has themes of heartbreak and losing someone who is very close to you and having to let go of them and having to accept that this person cant be yours and you cant be with them. "land of the lost / i found myself in nothing / this time, promises broken find me / clutching to you for something / something that you're not / believing in what you say / it makes me lie awake at night / the truth, the truth is not what scares me / it's why you have to lie / all the time." here we see these themes of having to let someone go because they just Aren't The Same as you. "clutching to you for something / something that you're not." maybe like chasing after a straight boy and getting rejected? also the repetition of "heartbreak is forever" when you're young and gay losing that first person you felt some kind of love and attraction to can feel like the end of the world and can be a huge deal because of the lack of representation and guidance young gays get. and the themes of nothing lasting forever, the fact that gay people never get promised eternal love the same way straight people do.

6) 8th Grade

this song is the nail in penceys fucking coffin honestly. the rest of these songs have a lot of plausible deniability, just vague enough to maybe Not Be Gay. but framed in the context of 8th grade they all start to get a lil fruity. Im just gonna go through lyric by lyric for this one. "caught staring again / like a deer in the headlights / when you can't move fast enough / i take a hit for the team / pretty girl is blushing / i can't tell if she's disgusted / laughter starts to swell / someone gets the joke." this kid was staring at some cute boy ass and got caught and everyone is laughing at him for being gay. the "pretty girl" here is what most people think he's staring at but with the rest of the song it's obvious she's not the one he's looking at. "bells ring, i make my escape / helps a little, but doesn't save / beat downs a common thing / with us every day / maybe im just strange / cause i dont change schools / so maybe i like the abuse / or maybe i just like you." literally This is the nail in penceys fucking coffin. "maybe i like the abuse or maybe i just like you." this kid purposefully takes beatings from his bully who is Obviously male if you take into context the next verse. because he Likes Him. "maybe im just strange / cause i dont change schools" literally willingly taking beatings from his bully bc he has a crush. "another confrontation / you've got something to prove / your girl can't tell how tough you are / when you beat me up in the boys room." this just confirms that the subject of the song is a boy, and a tough macho boy with something to prove. maybe also hiding his own internalized homophobia through bullying? "well i made a big mistake / but i can't help who i like / this may not cost my life / but i am branded forever lame." LITERALLY ITS RIGHT IN YOUR FACE. "can't help who i like" "branded forever lame" do i even need to fucking explain this oh my god. he got outed as gay, he Can't Help Who He Likes and is now branded forever as "the gay kid." the rest of the song is general "im gonna get back at my bully" stuff but literally THIS. THIS is the song that brands all penceys other very vague songs as 100% verified super mega ultra gay.

7) 19

this song has a lot less, and is more about internal struggle than anything. but it is the only song with a "she" pronoun in it. but there is one thing i wanna mention. "I scream out loud / but no one hears a sound / i take my life with lack of sleep / i believe the things i feel / the things i see are fooling only me." this song is about not believing what the world shows you, believing what you think is true in your heart and what You feel. not what anyone else tells you. which is a gay experience. believing in yourself and your heart and your feelings, believing theyre right and theyre true and valid. Also this song has a significance in coming right after 8th grade on the album, going from being 13 to 19, from being unsure in your feelings and angry about the people who dont like you to lost and hopeless but somewhat grounded in yourself.

8) Trying To Escape The Inevitable

this song is about an abusive and toxic relationship, knowing you Need to escape it but being so infatuated with the person you literally cant. “i have this reoccurring dream / you make it hard for me to breathe / i gave you everything i could / i gave up everything i owned / and when you smile it’s not for me / you offer little sympathy / your grasp so far exceeds your reach / i wake up, this is not a dream.” “i have this reoccuring dream / where you admit that you’re not happy / i know that you will never leave / you’re here just to torment me.” which like again this isnt an exclusively gay experience but it is very interesting when framed that way. in that gay people are way more likely to throw themselves into abusive and toxic relationships because they dont feel like they can get anybody else. the repetition of “i know i should run” makes it seem like the speaker Knows he should get out but he just Cant because what if he never finds love again? and the little reprise in the middle “i have a new dream / and everything is perfect / the sky is pink, yellow, green, blue, and orange / and all the past has been forgotten / and we fell in love / and we fell in love / and we fell in love / and i fell into your trap.” implying that even if he escapes, even in his dreams he still falls for this person because he feels like he cant have anything else.

9) Lloyd Dobbler

another love song about wanting to have someone but not being able to because of Unspecified Forbidden Reasons. “why are you so far away / even when you’re standing next to me? / your eyes give you away / telling secrets your mouht don’t feel like talking.” falling in love with someone, maybe sensing that they like you too. that they Are Like You and that they have a Secret they dont want to vocalize. do i even need to explain it at this point? and in the chorus “That I’ll be your lloyd dobbler / with a boom box out in the street / and i’ll be there if you need someone / even if he isn’t me.” saying you’ll be there for someone even if that person isn’t you, also the use of Pronouns which is big for pencey prep. which yes the use of “even if he isnt me” could imply a straight girl ooorrr....Fruit Behavior. also this line “There’s a norman rockewll painting / of two kids sitting on a bench / it reminds me of all the stupid things / i’d like for us to share, but i dont care.” normal rockwell is a painter that paints traditionally “american” scenes. like the american ideal, that maybe he wants with this person. but he knows he cant have, but its stupid and domestic and he wants it but he Cant Have It because of FRUIT BEHAVIOR.

10) Florida Plates

another of my favorite pencey songs, and this one brings back those tragic “love but we cant have it” themes, except with a more somber tone. instead of being angry or resentful or spiteful in the face of adversity. its an Acceptance, of what they had and how good it was and how it just Cant Last. “kiss a mouth to open eyes / stall one last moment before goodbye / drive in different cars in different directions / never write all the letters full of good words, better intentions / it’s for the best although we don’t know it / paper words will cheapen the moments we shared / it’s better if i say nothing at all.” it’s about knowing you have to leave someone, even if having them in the moment is great they Can’t Stay and you can’t even talk or write about the moments you had. which do i even need to explain it at this point? forbidden love, not being able to have each other, not even being able to Talk about it. its a secret, and painful one but its beautiful while you have it. Conclusion alright!!! thank you so so much if you read all the way through that i Know it was long i Know it was a lot of repetition but i wanted to make my point. pencey prep has very big gay themes in their music. with forbidden love, letting go, heartbreak, keeping secrets, toxic realtionships. which none of it is gay on its own but in the context of: almost none of the songs having clear gender indicators and always speaking really vaguely about the subject and Eight Grade the “nail in the coffin song” you can see my point thank you and goodnight.

#adrian speaks #mcr #pencey prep #frank iero

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let-me-luve-you · 4 years ago

Text

12 Days. 13 Gifts.

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Summary: Jensen has a surprise for you on Christmas day and he hides it through the 12 Days of Christmas.

Warnings: mentions of smut, making out, pure fluff, talks of religion because of the songs meaning, umm I think that’s it but if there is more and I missed it please let me know since I wrote this over a week.

Word Count: 6527

A/N: I know that the 12 Days of Christmas technically start on Christmas day and go on until the new year, but I did it before Christmas and have it end on Christmas. This kind of got a mind of its own once I started writing it. I didn’t plan for it to be this long but once I started writing, the words just flowed. I looked up the meanings on my own. I tried to keep most of the religion out of it so people would be comfortable reading it so I briefly mention the meaning and then make it what Jensen thinks of the reader. I didn’t proof read this so if there are mistakes, I’m sorry. This took me days to write with a 4 day break in-between due to working 14 hour days. I hope you guys enjoy.

@spnchristmasbingo

MASTERLIST

SPN Christmas Bingo 2020

Jensen was away filming Supernatural. They decided to do an extra episode before winter break so they wouldn’t have to come back until February. You missed him like crazy, but you were just grateful you were to get a little bit more time with him in the new year.

You worked for Gen so you were able to spend a lot of time with someone that understood missing their significant other. You also loved spending time with the little ones and helping Gen with her and Jared’s three children.

You were sitting at home doing some housework when you heard the doorbell. You made your way down the stairs to the front door of yours and Jensen’s shared home. You looked through the peephole and saw a delivery truck leaving the driveway. You opened the door and saw a small box.

Taking the box to the kitchen, you opened it and saw a tree shaped box full of plastic pears and one partridge in the middle. You pulled the box out and set it on the table. You looked back into the bigger box and found a note. You started reading,

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me... a partridge in a pear tree.

I’m sorry I’m not there to join in the Christmas decorations and Christmas activities. I can’t wait to come home and see how beautiful your decorating is. Save some decorating and activities for me. I love you and can’t wait to see you.

J<3

You smiled as you looked pack over to the present your boyfriend gave you. You walked over to the table you weren’t going to decorate because you were going to use it for the buffet on Christmas day when all yours and Jensen’s families come. You set up the box to lean against the wall so people can see it when they come over. You laid the note in front of it, preparing to save it for the rest of your life.

The next day, you had gone out with Gen and the boys to a local farm. Gen was doing a piece on a healthier lifestyle and where it starts. You had your camera with you getting pictures of Tom, Shep, and Odette interacting with each other while they did the activity the tour guide set up. Soon Gen joined them and you grabbed pictures of that too. After getting the pictures you needed, you put your camera up. Gen took that opportunity to ask you about the package Jensen left for you.

“Did he really send you a gift based on the 12 days of Christmas?” Gen asked.

“Yeah. I was so surprised. I had talked to him that morning and he didn’t let anything on that he was sending something.” You replied. Smiling to yourself as you thought about the thoughtful gift from Jensen.

“Do you think you’ll get the other eleven days?” She asked genuinely.

“I’m not sure.” You said. The kids looked tired and came over asking if it was time to go home. “I guess I’ll find out when I get home.” You laughed as you put Tom on your back and then picked up Odette as Gen picked up Tom. All three kids drained of any energy.

After helping Gen take the kids in, you said your goodbye and headed back to the house. When you pulled in the garage you noticed a package on the front porch. You eagerly walked from the garage to the front door to get the package. Walking back to the kitchen, you cut open the box and saw two turtle doves with their heads touching. You picked them up to admire the beauty of the glass piece. You gently set it down on the counter and looked in the box for the second note.

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me... two turtle doves.

Did you know turtle doves symbolize friendship and love and you are supposed to give it to a special person? And as long as both of us keep our turtle doves, we will be friends forever? You’re my best friend so I give the other one to you. Mine is attached to yours so we can keep them safe. I plan on staying best friends for life so don’t lose yours. I love you baby. See you soon.

J<3

You happily picked up the two turtle doves and the note and smiled as you set them next to the pear tree. You grabbed your phone and texted him “safe and sound. Love you.” Jensen quickly replied back with the heart eyes emoji.

You loved your gifts so far. You loved that the note explained what it symbolizes. You didn’t know that, you just knew the song. You hoped you would get more incite on the other days as well. That is, if you get more packages.

The next day, you were editing Gen’s photos when the doorbell rang. You weren’t expecting anyone so you assumed it was a package. You quickly hopped up from the computer and ran to the front door. You were already wearing a giant smile. As you opened the door you saw three giant boxes. You gently brought them into the foyer of the house. Too big and too heavy to move throughout the house. You opened the box that was labeled “box one.” You saw a giant iron french hen in the box as well as a note on top.

You grabbed the note and set it on the table by the door. You decided to pull out the french hen to see what it looked like. You looked it over and noticed Faith was engraved in the side.

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me... three french hens.

Faith. Hope. Love. These are what the three french hens represent. I have faith in us. I hope you’ll love me for the rest of your life. And I love you more than words can describe.

Also sorry these are so big. I couldn’t find smaller ones. I figured these would look good in the yard.

J<3

You laughed at his little p.s. note. You went to put the note on the table with the rest. You grabbed the first hen and took it outside. You decided that putting them next to the walkway would be the best place until you get out the spring yard decorations.

Another day at home called for deep cleaning the guest rooms and the guest bathrooms. Only your parents and Jensen’s were staying at the house. Both of your siblings and their families were going to be staying at a hotel.

You had been cleaning for hours. You wanted a break and it seemed like fate wanted me to have a break too. Just as you were walking to the kitchen, the doorbell rang. Walking to the front door to get day four of gifts, you opened it and grabbed the package. You finished your walk to the kitchen and set the box on the counter. You walked to the fridge to grab some water before returning to the package. Today, you were tired, so you were a little slower on opening the package.

Once you had the box open, you saw a statue of four black birds. There was a button located on the side. You pressed it, kind of scared of what sounds it was going to make. You laughed as you heard a variety of bird sounds. You looked for the note and pulled it out of the box.

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... four calling birds.

I did my research for this one and not much is on it. There are a lot of representations. Anyways, here are some blackbirds to join the collection that I hope you’re keeping. I love you. See you a lot sooner than you know.

J<3

You laughed at his note, just picturing him struggling to find the significance of the calling birds. You did as you had done before and set the statue and the note down next to the previous gifts. You smiled at your little collection you had built. You just knew this was going to be something you set up every year at Christmas. Notes and all.

The following day at the Padalecki house, you were helping decorate the tree with the boys and Odette while Gen went to get last minute Christmas gifts. You let the kids decorate it while you took photos. You were trying not to laugh as you noticed only the bottom half of the tree decorated. You prayed that Gen and Jared would leave it like that.

You heard the garage door and assumed it was Gen coming home. You laughed as Tom and Shep argued over where the reindeer ornament went. Odette walked towards the box of ornaments but stopped short and looked at something behind you.

“DADDY!” She yelled as you turned around to see Jared standing there with a smile on his face. He dropped his bag and bent down to pick up his daughter.

“Hey baby girl. Having fun decorating the tree?” He asked. She nodded her head and smiled at Jared. “Are you guys being good for Y/N?” All three answered yes in unison. You laughed.

“Have a good trip?” You asked him as he set Odette down. She ran off to join her brothers again.

“I did. Jay’s at home. I know you haven’t seen him in a while.” He said as he walked over to give you a hug and a kiss on the head. “Why don’t you go home? I can take over from here. I may be needed for the branches they can’t reach.” You both laughed as you looked at the naked top of the tree.

“Thanks Jare. Has Gen talked to you about coming to dinner tomorrow night?” You asked as you packed up your camera.

“She did. We figured we could come a little early to help out with whatever.”

“You can come early but you aren’t allowed to help.” You laughed as he frowned. “I have most of the decorations up. The rest are left for Jensen to do tonight. I just want some good ole family time. I haven’t seen you in forever and I know the kids want to see their Uncle Jensen.”

“We love Uncle Jensen!” Shep yelled.

“Is he here?” Tom asked.

You shook your head no. “No T, he’s not. But you will see him tomorrow. If you’re good for your parents tonight and tomorrow, I’ll have some cookies for you guys to decorate after dinner.” All three yelled in celebration.

“We’ll be good. Promise.” Shep said as he ran over to give you a hug. “Bye aunt Y/N. Love you.”

“Love you to Sheppy. I’ll see all of you tomorrow.” You said as you smiled at Jared and made your way to your car.

The drive to your house was short seeing as Jensen and Jared wanted to live close to each other. When you drove up, you didn’t see a package on the porch. You did smile though when you saw Jensen’s car in his spot in the garage. You walked into the house to see five small boxes on the coffee table with Jensen sitting on the couch next to them.

You ran over and hugged Jensen’s neck hard. “I missed you so much. Did you have a good flight?”

Jensen dug his head into your neck. You heard a mhmm as a response before you felt a kiss on your neck. He pulled back and gave you a soft kiss on your lips. “I missed you baby.” He kissed you again. “Can’t wait to spend the break with you and only you.”

“You do realize in a week's time we will have a full house of people.” You laughed. He shrugged before smirking at you. He turned to look at the gifts laying on the coffee table. You hopped off his lap and sat next to him, reaching for the boxes.

You picked them up and realized they were ring boxes. You opened it up to see a gold ring with a goldfinch bird on it. You pulled it out to observe it. Jensen was observing you. You had a huge smile on your face. You quickly opened all of the boxes and saw each ring was similar but the bird was positioned differently on each.

“These are beautiful Jense. Now where’s my note?” You asked eagerly. Jensen laughed as he handed it to you before he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... five golden rings.

The golden rings represent the yellow rings around a pheasant’s neck or a pretty little bird known as a goldfinch. A goldfinch symbolizes the importance of positivity, the value of happiness, and the simplicity in life. You are the most positive, happiest, and simplest person I have ever met. I am lucky to know you. You are my goldfinch. I love you.

J<3

You smiled at Jensen before you grabbed the rings and walked to the table that was holding all of the other gifts. You laid the note in front of it. You smiled as you looked over the four days worth of gifts that were in front of you. Jensen wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

“I love how you have it set up. I love where you put the hens.” He kissed your temple and squeezed you tighter.

“This is such a great idea. I love the thought you’ve put into it.” You turned in his arms. You placed one hand on his chest and the other on his cheek pulling him towards your lips. You placed a loving kiss on his lips before looking into his eyes. “Thank you for this. I love it.” Jensen smiled at you before he pulled you back into a kiss.

The next morning you woke to the smell of food. Jensen was sitting next to you with a tray full of breakfast food.

“What's all this?” You asked as you sat up.

“You’ve been doing so much around the house, plus working for Gen and helping her with the kids, I thought it's just a small thing I could do for you. And your cooking dinner tonight, so you deserved to spend the morning being pampered.” Jensen said softly. “I also have your sixth gift.”

He handed you a box. You opened it up and saw a glass goose. After picking it up you saw a glass nest with glass eggs in them. You gently put the goose back in the box and pulled out the note.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... six geese a laying.

It may not be six geese, but this is a cool one. The laying of eggs represents life and creation. Together we have created a life. A life that I love and never want to leave. The only way it changes is for the better. I love you.

J<3

You smiled at the note before putting it back in the box. You set the box on the ground before turning to Jensen. “I love the life we’ve built and I love you.” You said as you leaned over and kissed him.

It was day seven already. Jensen had spent most of the day in the garage with Jared, building furniture and toys for the kids Christmas. You had spent most of the day cleaning and prepping for the families to arrive in two days. While cleaning in the living room, you heard both boys come in and go into the kitchen. Jensen came out of the kitchen drinking water and came over to give you a hug.

“Want to open the seventh day?” Jensen asked.

“Is Dean the best Winchester?” You asked back.

“Hey now!” You heard Jared scoff. You looked up to see him leaning against the wall. You laughed when you saw his annoyed face. “What are you doing?”

“Jensen is giving me the 12 Days of Christmas?” You said with a big smile on your face. You walked over to the table and waved Jared over. Jared walked over to see all the gifts. “Jackles, you did this on your own?” He said, shocked.

“Yeah, I did. Don’t sound so surprised. I’m a romantic.” Jensen said while hugging you from behind. He pulled back and went to grab the box from the garage. He set it town on the dining room table. You quickly opened it and saw a big gold swan with six slightly smaller ones around it. You gently set it down and looked for the note.

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me... seven swans a-swimming.

Purity. Beauty. Grace. Love. Elegance. You might think I’m talking about you, but really I’m talking about what a swan represents. You are the swan of my life. You are so pure, beautiful, graceful, full of love and elegance. In the world we live in, we need more of you, but I’m glad I have you. Never change my love. I love you.

J<3

You looked up from the note to see Jensen setting the swans on the table next to the other. You walked over and set the note next to the swan. You grabbed Jensen by his cheeks and turned his face towards you. You squeezed his cheeks and gently laid a kiss on his lips.

“You’re the real swan of this relationship. I love you.” You whispered. Jared watching his two best friends with warm eyes.

“Did you just call me a bird?” Jensen joked before kissing you again. You laughed and pulled away. You heard Jared laugh as well. You turned to the big moose.

“I didn’t think I would get all of these since he started this before he came home.” You said to Jared. You turned to Jensen, “This is literally the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“It’s only getting better.” Jensen said. You smiled. I’m going to start dinner. Jared you’re welcome to stay and Gen and the kids are welcome to join if you’d like?”

“I would love too, but Gen is actually making stew for dinner. Thanks for the invite though.” He smiled at you as he sat on the couch.

“Well you’re welcome anytime.” You said as you hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. He grabbed your arm and gave it a squeeze and a pat before you let go. You walked out of the room and to the kitchen.

Jensen sat next to his brother and sat there for a second before he spoke.

“Is everything ready to go for Friday night?” Jensen asked.

“Yup. I’ll let the photographer in the back gate at 6:30. He said to give him 15 minutes to get stuff set up. I told him where you were going to be standing so make sure you stand there. Families know what’s happening and promise to keep it a secret. Gen picked up the ring the other day and I will give it to you when I get here Friday afternoon.” Jared said.

“Perfect. I really appreciate the help with all of this. You and Gen both. I don’t think I could pull off the proposal and the 12 Days of Christmas without you.” Jensen said sincerely.

Jared slapped Jensen on the back before standing up, “I’ll always do anything for you. Plus I’m happy you’re finally proposing. The two of you deserve each other and deserve to be happy.” He started walking towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow man. I’m going to go have a lazy night with my wife and kids.”

Jensen smiled at his friends and followed him to the door. Once he saw that Jared was in his truck, he shut and locked the door. He walked into the kitchen to talk with you while you cooked dinner.

Monday morning came too fast. Thankfully Gen gave you the week off. She said if she needed pictures taken, Jared could do it. You woke expecting to spend time with your husband, but he was gone. You walked to the kitchen and saw a note on the counter

Jared called for a morning run. Be back for lunch. Love you.

You smiled and decided you would make a full lunch and you could order out for dinner. You pulled out the ingredients for your favorite meal. You prepped the food within ten minutes before throwing it in the oven for three hours. You would make the rolls and salad when it was closer to lunch.

You decided today would be a lazy day of watching movies and casually wrapping Christmas presents for yours and Jensen’s family. When Jensen said he would be coming home from filming later than normal, you used your free time to wrap his presents so he couldn’t snoop. His presents were already under the tree.

You pushed the coffee table towards the love seat to create room for wrapping. You then went to the closet and got all the presents out and the wrapping paper. After setting everything down, you went down to the office to get the scissors and tape. Finally you were able to sit down and relax and wrap. You decided to watch all of the classic Christmas movies while you were wrapping since you hadn’t really seen any this year.

When Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer ended, you decided to put Frosty the Snowman on next. Jensen walked in right when it started and he was holding a box. He smiled at you before he set it down in front of you before sitting next to you.

You ripped open the box to see eight maids milking a cow. You noticed the tail was curled like you could hold it and then you realized that it had a small hole on top.

“This is so cute that it might get used all year round.” You said looking at the piece that was made to hold milk or cream for coffee or tea. Jensen smiled at you and then handed you the note. “Oh my favorite part.” You beamed.

On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... eight maids a milking.

In the 15th and 16th century in England, “lets go-a-milking” meant “let’s get married.” One day I want to go-a-milking. I want to see you walk down that aisle to our forever. I love you so much.

J<3

You looked up at Jensen with tears in your eyes. He gently put his hand on your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

“This isn’t a proposal, but one day I will. I will give you forever.” He said before leaning in to give you a kiss with so much love.

“And when that day comes, I will say yes to our forever.” You smiled at him.

He smiled at you before he turned to see what you were doing before, “Put me to work so we can have a lazy movie day after lunch.” You laughed and told him to start wrapping.

Tuesday you woke up early. Going straight to the kitchen to start the coffee. You looked at the clock and noticed that it was only six in the morning. You groaned knowing it was going to be a long day, but you had to get things done before family arrived. You pulled out a notepad and pen and started a list for groceries you would need for the time everyone is here. You then made another list for the Christmas food you would need for Christmas Eve night and Christmas lunch and dinner.

You sighed before taking a drink of your coffee. You set it down and laid your head on the counter trying to get motivated to start the day's work. You felt arms wrap around you from behind. You sat up and leaned against your boyfriend.

“Why are you up so early?” He whispered, giving you a gentle kiss on the neck.

“Too much to do. I’m about to go to the grocery store, but I needed a list and coffee first.” You replied.

“Since when is the grocery store open this early?” He asked as he pulled away and got some coffee.

“Since it’s the holidays. I want to go when it opens so it’s not so busy. Not very many show up at 7 am.” You replied. “I just need to go get dressed.”

“Let me finish my coffee and I’ll go with you.” You were about to tell him he didn’t have to when he interrupted you. “No. Don’t say I don’t have to. I want to help. You are putting in so much work so we can host our families for Christmas. Just tell me what to do.” You smiled at him and thanked him before moving back upstairs to change clothes.

Later that afternoon, you started working on prepping food so all you had to do for two dinners and a lunch was to put them in the oven to cook them. Jensen walked into the kitchen before you could truly get started and he dragged you to the table holding the 12 Days of Christmas gifts.

You saw a medium size box and Jensen nodded for you to open it. You pulled out a jewelry box. When you opened it you saw a ballerina and it turned as the music played.

On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... nine ladies dancing

Today’s part of the song stands for the nine fruits of the Holy Spirit. They stand for love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. You are the love of my life and you give me so much love. You give me joy. You bring me peace. You are so patient with me. You give me so much kindness, even when I don’t deserve it. You bring so much good to the world and to me. You have faith in me when I don’t even have faith in myself. You’re gentle with me when I need it. And you have self control to not let your emotions overcome you to where you say or do something you would regret. (I don’t know how you have self control when I’m around though *wink wink*).

I love watching you dance around the kitchen when you cook, the bathroom when you are getting ready, and the living room when you are cleaning. You have danced your way into my heart and I hope you never dance out. I love you baby.

J<3

You walked up and hugged him. “You say all these kind things about me, when these almost match what I think about you.” You said into his chest.

“I can’t even compare to you baby.” He kissed the top of your head. “Okay. Let me help prep food so we can have a calm night. Mom told me they will be here by 10 tomorrow morning. And your dad said they’d be here around lunch. So let’s finish so we can enjoy our little alone time.”

The next morning, you were doing some last minute cleaning before Jensen’s parents arrived. You were cleaning the leftover breakfast dishes when you heard the doorbell. You were about to stop what you were doing when you heard Jensen get it.

“Hey guys.” You heard your boyfriend say to his parents.

“Hi baby. Where’s Y/N?” You heard his mom ask.

“I think she was doing something in the kitchen.” He responded. You heard someone walking towards you and decided to dry your hands and give a proper welcome to his parents.

“Y/N! How have you been?” Donna said as she stepped into the room.

“I’m good Donna. How was the trip?” You asked.

She nodded, “It was good. Is there anything I can help you with dear?”

“I think I’m good for now. Jensen has been a doll and has been helping me with everything. I think now we can go into the living room and talk. My parents should be here shortly.” You said guiding her to the living room.

After an hour of talking, your parents arrived. Your mom and Donna instantly started catching up when your mom turned and saw the table of gifts. She got up and walked over to it which drew Donna’s attention as well.

“What’s all this?” Your mom asked.

“Jensen has been doing the 12 Days of Christmas for me.” You said as Jensen came and wrapped his arms around you and gave you a kiss on the head.

“Well isn’t that sweet and romantic.” Your mom cooed. “Y/N, your dad never did anything like this for me, I know you’ve been dating for a few years, but if I haven’t said it before, he’s a keeper.”

You laughed as Donna agreed. You all decided to go grab lunch. Both sets of parents were catching you up on everything that was happening in their lives and your siblings lives. When you returned from lunch, your parents both went to their rooms to unpack and get comfortable. Jensen took you into the dining room where you saw another box.

When you opened it up, you saw ten leaping men as a tin decoration. You smiled and set it on the other table with the other gifts. You went back to the box and found the note.

On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... ten lords a leaping

These ten lords a leaping represent the ten commandments. But I have to be honest. I instantly thought about how you leaped your way into my heart. I also thought about how I would leap over mountains and oceans for you. Anything to make sure you are happy and feel loved. I still love you.

J<3

You smiled at Jensen and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He pulled you into him and gave you a heart stopping kiss. One kiss led to another and the next thing you know he has you sitting on the table with him between your legs making out. You had no care in the world. Just enjoying this small moment with your boyfriend. Jensen pulled away and your head jerked to the left when you heard a throat being cleared. Your face burned red when you saw your dad and Alan standing there.

It was finally Christmas Eve. Jensen decided since the house would be full of your siblings and nieces and nephews, he was going to give you your present this morning. He quietly got up and turned off your alarm. He walked down to the garage where he was hiding the presents and got the one labeled day eleven.

He walked back upstairs passing his mom. He stopped and gave her a kiss on the cheek and told her to make herself at home. He walked back towards your shared bedroom. He saw you sleeping so peacefully and he felt bad for waking you, but he wanted you to have this moment. He loved being able to share these few minutes with you. Seeing your eyes light up when you saw the present. He didn’t think it was possible for them to light up anymore than they already were until he saw you read the note. He knew you loved the gifts, but he loved that you loved the hand written notes and thought into what these gifts mean.

Jensen leaned over and kissed your face gently while rubbing your arm. “Come on baby. Open your eyes for me.” He said softly as he watched you try to wake up. You opened your eyes and blinked a few times before looking up at Jensen. “There she is.”

“Hi.” You whispered.

“Hi.” Jensen whispered back before giving you a soft kiss. “I wanted to give you your present before everyone got here. I like having the privacy for it.” You nodded and moved to sit up and lean against the headboard.

Jensen handed you the box. You tiredly smiled at him as you took it. You opened it up and found a medium wooden box. You opened it up and saw eleven wind instruments made out of wood. You smiled admiring the beauty of them. You moved onto the note that was laying in the bigger box.

On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me... eleven pipers piping

I learned today that eleven is considered an unlucky number because it’s one less than a dozen and one more than the number ten, which apparently is a fan favorite. These pipers stand for the faithful disciples. I hope you take this meaning as knowing I am faithful to you. I would never intentionally do anything to hurt you or to break your heart. I love you.

J<3

You smiled at the note before setting it and the boxes on the bedside table. You pulled Jensen to you and you gave him a lazy kiss while trying to fix his bed head.

“How about you show me how faithful you are before everyone wakes up and the others arrive.” You smirked at him. He lunged at you as you giggled. “It would be my pleasure.”

It was Christmas evening and you had noticed Jensen getting a little bit restless. He had been like that all day. You just thought it was because of all the people in the house, but when Jared showed up he got even more antsy. A little after six, you decided to pull him aside.

“Jense, come here.” You said waving him towards the stairs. You led him to the bedroom and sat him on the bed. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’ve just been restless all day. You almost look nervous.” You said rubbing your finger over the frown lines on his foreheads.

“I’m fine. Just feel weird having all these people here.” He said leaning up to give you a kiss. He turned to look at the clock on the beside and saw that it was 6:30. He knew Jared was now letting the photographer in the backyard. “Do you want day twelve?” You smiled and nodded.

When Jensen handed you the last box, you ripped it open and found twelve miniature drums stacked on one another. You pulled it out and admired its beauty of different colors. Jensen then picked up the note out of the box and then reached for your hands.

“Come on. I got a surprise for you outside.” You linked your fingers with his and smiled. When you walked through the living room to the backdoor, everyone watched on.

Jensen led you to the middle of the yard under the lights he hung last weekend. You heard music start playing through the outdoor speakers and you looked up to see Jared standing on the porch.

“You kids have fun out here. Just not too much fun.” He said while wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed and turned back to Jensen.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, holding his hand out. You nodded. “You know Y/N/N, you are the one thing in my life that can make me truly happy. There have been plenty of days that have been complete crap and I see you or call you and I instantly feel like I had the best day of my life. You listen to me and give me words of advice and encouragement. You love me when I don’t think I deserve to be loved.”

“You’ll always deserve love, Jense and I will spend the rest of our days reminding you of that.” You said. He smiled. He stopped dancing with you to hand you the last note. He turned you around and wrapped his arms around you. When you started to read it, he let go.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me... twelve drummers drumming

The meaning of this one comes from the Apostles' Creed. I’ll let you look that one up while I tell you what drumming means to me when it comes to you.

You walk to the beat of your own drum. You are the beat of my heart. Your love is a drum and I never want to miss a beat. Now it’s time for your heart to skip a beat in a good way.

I really love you.

J<3

Now turn around baby.

You turned around and gasped when you saw Jensen on one knee holding up a box with a beautiful ring inside.

“Y/N/N baby. I did the 12 Days of Christmas to show you how I see you. To show you what you mean to me. I want to love you for the rest of my life and beyond. I want to be your shoulder to cry on. I want to comfort you when you need it. I want to be part of the reason for that beautiful smile. Will you let me love and care for you for the rest of our lives? Will you marry me Y/N/N?”

You felt tears rush down your face as you smiled.

“Yes. A million times yes Jense.” He smiled and put the ring on your left ring finger. He stood up and wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up spinning you in circles. You put your hands on his face and leaned down to kiss him. “I love you.” You whispered to him as you stared into his eyes.

You heard cheering from the porch. With Jensen still holding you, you both looked up and smiled at your family.

“It’s about time.” You heard Jared yell as he walked down to hug the two of you. “I’ve had to keep this secret for so long.” “You knew?!” You asked, shocked.

“Jensen planned it all, just needed some assistance so you wouldn’t find out. He knows you don’t like surprises and you don’t like waiting for presents.” Jared said while laughing. You shrugged knowing he was right.

You turned back to Jensen and he wrapped his arms around you. “Thank you for making me the happiest man in the world. I can’t wait to call you Mrs. Ackles.”

You smiled at your fiance before giving him one last kiss. You turned towards the rest of the family that followed Jared. You gave everyone a hug and thanked them as they congratulated the both of you. You saw Jensen talking with your brother and Jared and you smiled at him. Even though you were now making it official, both of you were already a part of each other's families.

This was a Christmas you would never forget.

#spn christmas bingo #spn christmas bingo 2020 #supernatural christmas bingo #supernatural christmas bingo 2020 #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #spn rpf #supernatural rpf #jensen ackles one shot #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles fanfiction #supernatural #spn #bingo card

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hes-writer · 5 years ago

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Just A Litle Bit of Your Heart (5)

Summary: y/n must make a decision

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 3211 words

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

A/N: apologies for taking over a year to finish this series! thanks for being patient. as usual, let me know what you thought.

The inspiration behind this part is credited to Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. More specifically, Naoko’s first letter. Some lines were used as is and others were paraphrased. The description of when Watanabe and Naoko had sex are also collaborated along this piece.

I’m really nervous about this.

____

Harry’s words echoed in Y/N’s head; she has never felt such conflicting emotions coursing through her body. Her heart twinged with the need to press her body closer to him because she loves him so dearly. A surge of logical capacities told her to extract herself from the situation--the toxic relationship that they built up to, on the other hand. Did she want to stay with him? Or did she want to leave? Harry was giving her the chance to call it quits right at this moment, to run away from him and start a blossoming relationship with someone else, instead of sticking around and be strung along as he picked up various women on the way to nowhere.

Nowhere.

This would lead to nowhere if she continued to act the way she did. It would be quite tragic to let their relationship strain, only to crash and burn because they didn’t know when to stop. Either she had to change to be more understanding and indifferent or he had to abandon his bachelor ways and return home to her. She didn’t know if both of them could cocoon themselves in a box that they’ve left long before.

That version of Y/N was long gone and she did not know what to make of it; if it was Harry to be condemned for taking advantage of the kindness of her heart, or was it her own fear of being left alone that lead her to being alone?

Y/N blinked sluggishly at him, lashes casting a shadow on her cheeks as she shifted her gaze away from his curious ones. She was hurting but she didn’t want to hurt him. Somewhere inside her heart knew that that love she held for Harry was too much--and too much love can kill you.

She didn’t know what to expect from it and Y/N thinks she might be experiencing it now. The subtleness of losing herself to the void, pieces of her that can never be brought back, that will never make another appearance because those were only brought up when he was still the Harry she fell in love with and they were still them. Withering away like a dried flower that hit its peak, the grace and standards Y/N held for herself, the things that made her the woman Harry fell for washed away in the midst of the chaos.

“I-I don’t know,”

Harry took a breath through his nose, nipping at his bottom lip, not knowing whether to release a breath of relief because she didn’t break it off or tense tenfold because the option of leaving him was still on the table.

“We can work it out. We can go to couples therapy, we can do something!” He insisted, frantically spewing out words he thought would alleviate his situation.

She stared at him, scrutinizing his loveable face, wondering if he knew the extent of what he was asking for. Admittedly, Y/N had her faults throughout. However, she wouldn’t say she was the biggest problem of what had occurred. Sure, it was her idea that got them in this mess in the first place, but it’s not like she wanted it to be this way.

Harry spoke words to her but it never reached her ears. Frankly, it gave her a headache.

“Am I the problem here?”

He paused his monologue, hand sifting through his curls. His body was burning in agony, wanting this conversation to be over so he could prove to her that his words were merely a representation of his actions.

“I can change,”

Harry’s confession fluttered Y/N’s heart-- to hear that he was willing to make this work so as far as to quit his usual habits shafted a glimmer of hope in her heart. He could charge forward right now, even as his heart writhed, slowly sinking in a swamp of near loneliness. Harry made a courageous gesture to hold her dainty hands in his own, looking deep in her eyes to see a reflection of him pleading for another chance. For a moment, his heart faltered, realizing that all this time she longed for him, and only him.

She shook her head quickly. There were multiple times when she would reach out with her fingertips to try and touch the light slithering towards her; a symbol of wishes, desires, and expectations.

She always came back empty-handed.

“My hands weren’t the ones that you wanted to hold. You weren’t searching for my warmth late at night when you were cold. You rather be in bed with someone else,” Y/N stated, strongly at first, then quickly wavering as her emotions led her to think to a place she rarely went to voluntarily.

His mind flashed back to the countless events where he witnessed her sleeping body draped over the couch living room, waiting for him in the late hours of the night in hopes of sharing a civil conversation with him. Harry could recall himself huffing in annoyance, having to grab a blanket from the storage closet to cloak on her. At that point, he didn’t know if it was decency that made him act that way or if there were lurking feelings hidden in his hard exterior.

“I feel like such a fool. I feel so guilty of being me because you would distance yourself rather than talking to me about it!”

“I never meant to make you feel that way,” His palms grasped the retaining warmth her hands left, having long since slipped from his hold to fist at her thighs in exaggerated murmurs. They sat on the sofa a few feet apart, an invisible string connecting them to each other.

“Waiting for you to call me because you needed me, because you missed me, because you wanted to hear my voice is one of the most painful things I have ever had to go through. At least let me know if you still wanted me around.”

“But I do want you around!” He retorted, almost offended that she said those words to him. Her head looked down at the carpet beneath her feet, silently mulling over the words she was to say next. “I still love you,”

Their cries turned into whispers as Y/N smiled sadly, peeking at him with silky eyes as tears threatened to escape her waterline. She shuffled closer, seeing his Adam’s apple bob in his throat in a difficult swallow. Her soft hands brushed the stray curls falling near his face, her thumb caressing his quivering cheekbones as Harry tensed and untensed his jaw nervously. Y/N tilted her head to the side, admiring his features with the most longing and loving eyes he had ever seen. His eyes burned through, she could tell that the curiosity was killing him.

The moment she made direct eye contact with him-- he felt a surge of warmth overtake his body, butterflies flying all over his tummy and his heart thumped a little faster. She felt like home to him.

“There was a time when I looked into your eyes and felt so happy,” Her breath hit the tip of his nose, the closeness intimidating him but it didn’t seem to affect her any longer.

His brows furrowed, “What do you feel now?”

She gave him a gentle smile, coldness slowly crawling up his spine.

“Sadness. Disappointment.”

A lone tear slipped down his cheek, the pad of her thumb flushing it away, making his skin glisten with the salty liquid. His eyes searched for a sense of reassurance aside from the deteriorating words she used to describe what it felt like to be with him. The desperation he held deepened, his eyes fluttering close in a stuttered breath. His eyelashes dampened with more tears, making it wet and uncomfortable.

“I thought we were gonna make it,”

Harry's throat tightened up, his esophagus constricting with a certain tightness that reverberated to his stomach which was swirling in coils of springing uncertainty and doubt. Truth is, the action of sleeping with other women never really satisfied him. There was still a hole in his heart aching to be filled, to feel complete was something never came easy to anyone, really.

“We can still make it,”

“Can we?” Y/N’s voice wavered as she blinked her eyes closed, a tear gently sloping down the curve of her cheek. Her lip was sore from being bitten by her teeth, a gnawing action that occurred from the inside to the outside. Harry’s chin quivered, a sob preparing to rip through the confines of his mouth. A strained cry, raw from the base of his throat and embedded deep within his chest.

------

Harry remembers the mornings after he willingly gave his body to someone else aside from Y/N: the sunlight stabbing straight through his closed eyelids, the dream-like haze bottling his thoughts and feelings in an enchantment that chanted ‘everything was going to be fine’, everything was going to be the same when he came home. Y/N would always be there with her arms wide open in a gesture for a much-needed hug. His head would pound as if it belonged to someone else because his thinking was muzzled to bits and pieces, barely knowing who he was anymore.

There was absolutely nothing to be gained from sleeping with one woman after another. Aside, from quelling the spurt of arousal taking over his body, the longevity of the action did nothing in the long run. It tired Harry out and made him disgusted with himself more times than he can count. Those women questioned his every touch, instructing him to touch them this way, to kiss them softer, to stop thinking and start feeling the caressing touches of skin-on-skin contact. The excitement of a stranger exploring his body while he retaliated the same conduct was once an idea that had Harry ready to bolt out of Y/N’s arms in a second.

He wished he could turn back time. Y/N never made demands; all she wanted was his attention, his affection, hugs and kisses and her body swarmed with endless grazes, tracing the stretches of skin that gleamed in the early hours of the morning. His fingertips pressured the imperfections of her body, hair tickling the calves of her legs as the sheets whispered a barrier between their bodies. His chest attached to her back, his lips pressing pecks along the valley of her shoulder, the base of her neck, nuzzling his nose at the nape where her scent was the strongest.

Harry missed when they explored each others’ bodies in the darkness. There was nothing to be said, no words needed to be spoken between the two of them when their mouths attached to each other in a dazed spell, alluring both of them to give everything they had to the person that meant everything to them. Harry was ashamed to admit that at one point, Y/N ceased to be the one that meant everything to him. For a moment, she was a silver trophy, forgotten and left collecting dust on the shelf. The second best. The back-up.

Her cry was the saddest sound of orgasm that he had ever heard and it slit his heart with thin slices knowing that although he was the reason for the pleasure coursing through her body, the pain was still floating like a soapy bubble encompassing her entire being, leaving her trapped to subdue herself with artificial happiness until Harry returned home to her. And it went on, the desperation fuming the atmosphere, Y/N’s hesitant hands trembling against the expanse of his stomach as if she didn’t know his body anymore. Her lips working against his as if inexperience littered the skin of her mouth because he changed too much and she didn’t know how he moved anymore. He was an unfamiliar person but her body reached out to him continuously. It went on until Y/N couldn't physically bring herself closer to his without recoiling a few steps back to avoid the stench of the sweet perfume wafting from his clothes, without her stomach gurgling with disgust at the thought of where his hands had been; Couldn’t help but wonder where his heart is now.

And Harry went on with the robotic schedule to routinely fuck her because he had to. Not because he craved the way she tasted or missed the way she folded herself for him, but because that was what couples did, right? They made time for each other, became intimate and made love while reassuring whispers were exchanged between them. That was the case until he stopped listening. Her wails punctured the hollow in his chest and he couldn’t bear it anymore. He stopped trying, he paused his efforts. He was only doing the bare minimum and without that-- they had nothing.

Harry didn’t want to but it was all he could do. His body was hungering for other people to fill the void, the lost love that vanished in a moment. Still, Harry thought about Y/N. Her silhouette against the blinding rays of sun catapulting past the curtain in the early morning, her naked body outlined by the moon in the darkness. The soft curve of her lashes tickling the patch of hair on his chin when Y/N looked up at him with so much love and adoration. The sound of the rain pattering on the rooftop, racing past the window and forming a puddle at the ground.

His heart melted with the knowledge of receiving a type of love that rarely ever occurred. A love that sheathed itself with blue cotton candy, clouds of sugary sweetness drifting up to his tilted nose. The softness of the treat skimming his skin like light footsteps, doing everything in its power to leave his heart beating calmly. Until water appeared and saturated their love, disappearing into nothing in a blink of an eye.

___

There was a lot that Y/N didn’t understand, a lot that she didn’t know. There were so many things that drifted in her mind, incoherent thoughts and incomplete ideas scattered along with her brain. It would take time to organize a million things in an orderly manner. And by then, she didn’t know if it would be too late. Harry hurt her but Y/N was not innocent. They hurt each other in order to fix something that wasn’t profoundly broken; just dented and needing a little tender loving care.

She wanted to dismantle his heart. Tear it. Crush it to bits until it sprinkled heartbreak over their shared bed. Until then, Y/N could finally breathe again. But she couldn’t get herself to do it; she loved him too much to hurt Harry intentionally.

What hell am I doing?

Y/N repeated the question over and over until it became a part of her. Previously, she wouldn’t have thought of doubting her actions. The confidence she carried herself with glazed the mountains of doubts blocking her path. Not once did she regret a decision she made because Y/N knew that she would learn from it one way or another.

The time she spent being with Harry was one of the most joyous moments of her life. Images of grandeur slipping past her lids to remember the laughter echoing between the two of them, the smiles being larger than life like two twin sunflowers dancing against the gentle breeze of the field.

With Harry, Y/N experienced heartbreaking pain and suffocating sadness. Tall, ocean waves submerging her in the twilight zone leaving her with no choice but to kick her feet up and try to escape but salty liquid drowned her all around. It felt like there was no escape until she accepted the reality and simply just floated. The buoyancy of her body guided her to a ray of golden light and she tried hard to ignore it because the pain and sorrow were something that she had gotten used to.

Without vulnerability, they had nothing. It was the base for connection. The part where fear and shame dissolved into thin air because acceptance was what everybody craved for.

With Harry, she let herself be seen. She was vulnerable and honest and skinned to the bone with secrets that she shared with him. Her heart was whole with the amount of love she gave and the abundance she received. She loved him until the end even when there were no more signs of reassurance that the feelings were mutual. She believed that she was enough until he decided that she wasn’t anymore and found someone else, taking her heart with him and crushing it in a fist.

With Harry, she practiced gratitude and leaned into joy, never having a dull moment in fear of good things ending because they do. Everything has an end; even the bad things.

With Harry, she learned to scream and voice out her thoughts, never leaving a stone unturned so that honesty was always in transparency.

With Harry, she stopped screaming and started listening. To him and his obvious need for distance. To him and his silent pleads to leave him alone. To him and his evaporating love, reeking into the air with bittersweet goodbyes.

Furthermore, she started listening to herself.

What did she want?

What did she deserve?

___

Her query was answered only a week later when she spoke to him again. Harry’s eyes were filled with the same unbearable sadness that she used to feel whenever Y/N stared at her reflection in the mirror

“Will I ever see you again?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders in a loose answer, smiling the slightest bit as the air started engulfing her lungs a little easier. “Maybe”

Harry shook his head in denial, curls sticking to his temples and damp cheeks while some strands followed suit with the direction of his head shaking, muttering soft ‘no’s’ in repeated action as if it would help him contain her from slipping past the opened door. But his hands were buttery and his fingertips were burned raw.

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you. I’m just not ready,” Y/N answered in a rehearsed manner, having spent the previous days deciphering what she truly wanted to say. If there was anything that she would take from Harry, it would be the value of honesty. “The moment I do, I’ll reach out to you. Give you an update,”

Harry stood unmoving, feet planted on the entryway. He could do nothing but listen to her silky voice comforting the turmoil boiling in his belly and the missiles launching in his head. “P-please,”

“Maybe we can get to know each other better,”

Was that where their love failed? Was it because they didn’t truly know each other so well that their unknown differences slowly crept up on their seemingly perfect relationship?

As perfect as it gets, Y/N savoured the times when it was just them against the world; she never would have thought that her closest ally would betray her. She never would have thought that her own self would walk away when she promised him that she would stick it through.

‘Make it through the end’, whenever that is.

_____

whew.

_____

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#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb

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twdmusicboxmystery · 4 years ago

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TWD 11x06: On the Inside - Details

Okay, let's talk details.

***As always, spoilers abound below for 11x06. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

Connie and Virgil:

The first thing it shows is a spider. I seem to remember seeing one of these around Alpha, and we've seen them other times, too. I wasn't sure what they meant, but remember how I talked yesterday about how Virgil and Connie were led into a trap here, and that points to the same thing being true of the Daryl and Beth in Alone? I think the spider represents someone being caught in a web or trap. And that actually creates really interesting implications for episodes in 4B, such as Inmates.

Speaking of Inmates, we see Connie and Virgil running through tall grass, very similar to how Beth and Daryl did in Inmates. Yet another example of why they (Connie and Virgil) will probably end up being romantic.

Inside this house there are quite a few stuffed animals. Not the toys, but the taxidermy type. See a fish on the wall, a bear, and plenty of deer. All of those are important Beth symbols.

When Connie goes to search the house, she sees a whole bunch of paintings with the eyes scratched out. If that's not a “see no evil” reference, I don't know what is. A.K/ had a convenient explanation for it, but if this is the Beth template, then in the template, it represents something else entirely than in the reality of the episode.

So, what does it represent? Well, obviously we don't know for sure. But I had the thought that they certainly did focus a lot on Connie's deafness here. We’ve never had much indication that Beth will have hearing problems. That’s something unique Connie's character. But maybe the equivalent of that in Beth’s arc is that she’ll have vision problems. So, paintings with no eyes here are meant to represent that Beth will be similar to Connie, except in her case will be vision problems rather than hearing problems. Just a theory, though.

So, they did this thing where when it was shown from Connie's point of view, we couldn't hear any sound. I thought that was really great. It definitely put us into Connie's experience and makes it creepier. Angela Kang talked about how they did that purposefully to show when it was from Connie's point of view. So, one to recognize is that this is proof that what we’ve said about different episodes being from different characters’ points of view is a thing. We don’t have obvious indications of it like this all the time because no other characters are deaf or blind. But this means the writers consider this and do tell various stories or parts of the stories from specific character perspectives. I’m just saying.

In the bathroom, Connie seems sees mushrooms growing beside the bathtub. That's more of the mushroom/hallucination theme.

When she sees the eye on the other side of the wall, she runs down to Virgil and tries to tell him what's going on. She gets so flustered that she can't write it and ends up carving “not alone" into a painting. Obviously, this is another way we can relate this to Alone and suspect it is a Beth and Daryl template.

But also pay attention to this painting. It is a real painting that @galadrieljones was able to find. It’s called “Wolf and Fox Hunt” by Peter Paul Reubens. I’m going to talk about this in a theory later in the week. It’s SUPER important. For now, notice that there are foxes, wolves, and dogs in it. Someone sent me an Ask about something Norman posted and I believe it's related to this. Norman's dropping hints about the duality theme. So, like I said, it's too much for this post but I will be talking about it very soon. Also notice that the painting is framed with deer antlers, which means the deer symbol is thrown into the mix as well.

Also note that the lighting inside this house in general is a lot like Grady, with it being darker inside and having brighter, white light streaming in through the the windows.

We see a door slide across the hallway and separates Connie and Virgil. This is what I mean when I say there are representations of Beth and Daryl being split up and needing to find each other again.

I wasn't entirely sure what was going on with Connie putting her hands on the walls at first. But if you listen to the sound, she can basically hear or feel the vibration of the guy running toward her. It's a little like putting your ear on the ground to hear horse hooves. She can hear his footfalls getting closer and closer. Super creepy.

We do have this one interesting sequence where Kelly is trying to pull her horse forward but the horse doesn't like the mud and is pulling back. Kelly ends up falling in the mud just before Carol's group finds her. It was kind of random sequence and didn't seem to go anywhere in the episode. But if Kelly is a foreshadow of Maggie searching for Beth, it's probably a foreshadow of something else we don't understand yet.

@wdway pointed out that in 10x19, we saw Father Gabriel fall into the mud when he was with Aaron. So, chances are, these are both foreshadows of the same thing, but we don’t know what yet.

We see Connie finding bones in the basement. The walls shake and she climbs into the vent, moving into the passages between walls. This is where she sees Virgil in the outer room, running from the same people she is. This part really creeped me out because my first thought was that he wouldn't know that this was her rather than one of the creatures. I totally didn't see it coming that one of the creatures would walk up behind him. Seriously creepy.

This is another representation of no exit, as I said yesterday, and of Beth trying to warn Daryl of something but not being able to.

I also noticed at this part, the guy Virgil was fighting with said, "hungry." That's in keeping with the idea that these people were cannibals, but it also occurred to me that in the broader, CRM situation, this might indicate something to do with famine and resources.

But here's the other thing. Maybe this goes to the heart of it. I said in the Matrix theory that we don't really know what the CRM is doing, resource-wise, and that’s true. Isobel told Al it had something to do with purifying water, but I’m sure it’s more complicated than that.

The thing is, we've seen several indications of cannibalism now, which all seem to point forward, toward some bigger arc we haven’t seen yet. I mean, it's sort of started in 4x01 with Clara trying to feed Rick to her walker husband. Of course there was Terminus, which was a thing (sort of) in the comic books, but everything about Terminus foreshadowed things we haven't seen yet. This season we have that story Maggie told, and now this Virgil/Connie arc. I just can't help but think maybe one of the things the CRM is doing is using people as a resource in a literal way by eating them. Conjecture on my part, but it does make sense given the symbolism we've seen.

After Connie manages to let Virgil know it's her and not one of the monsters, he pulls her out of the wall, and they hug. This is one of the reasons people are feeling like this might be a romance. It is kind of reminiscent of the Bethyl hug and had a certain intimacy to it.

Later that night, we see Kelly arrive at the same place that Connie and Virgil were at the very beginning. In this case, she goes the wrong way. The opposite direction to the one Connie and Virgil took. The interesting thing is, we see the mailbox has fallen over.

I will post about all the mailboxes later in the week. I do think it attests to the Matrix theory and points to the CRM. I'll explain how I think it was used in this episode when I get to that post. But even showing Kelly go the wrong way is kind of interesting. In the episode, it just means that at some point her group must have doubled back to the house. We’re never told why. Maybe they went that way and didn't find anything, and so decided to come back. Or maybe they heard screaming coming from the house and that brought them back. Either way, I'm sure it's foreshadowing something in the future.

I’m also thinking that the storm we see here is probably important. It doesn’t play a very big part in this episode, but I don’t think it can be unimportant that there’s a storm going on (think Them) while Kelly is searching so close to Connie.

We also see Virgil and Connie talking inside. He says he's never seen people this far gone. "To herd us like prey." That's a “too far gone” reference, which we've seen since S4 and Rick's speech at the prison. And I talked about the fact that this they were herded into this trap yesterday. This is where we get a lot of Beth and Daryl dialogue.

Virgil talks about how he wants to get her HOME, how he wants to get her back to her family. This is also where he talks about losing himself for a long time and Michonne giving him a second chance. Basically, he's willing to die, willing to sacrifice himself to get her back to her sister. But Connie says no, we do this together. *coughs* Bethyl *coughs*

Right after that, they hear the monsters in the house start grunting and Virgil says, “time’s up” and they jump up and run. I just couldn’t help but think of the “time escapes” reference from the clock in Still.

I talked about how I think Virgil being hurt represents Daryl getting hurt and Beth saving him, but also want to point out that we've got a getting-stabbed-in-the-back theme going on this season. We also saw it with Bossi, who Pope threw into the fire. Maggie nailed him in the back with one of her knives and Pope made a big deal about how his wounds were on his back. At it’s core, it’s probably a betrayal theme (another connotation for stabbing someone in the back) and given that Daryl is already planning to betray Leah, that makes sense, and may be the reason for it. We’ll have to see where it goes.

Connie covers herself and guts and lets walkers in. That's how she saves herself and Virgil. I'm assuming that will correlate to something with Beth and Daryl that’s similar.

Daryl and Leah:

In the torture scene with Frost, I just wanted to point out that they're torturing him using fingernail methods, and then Daryl cut off one of his fingers. They specifically did not waterboard him. Waterboarding wouldn’t be the only form of torture the Reapers are familiar with, but the point is, it's a purposeful choice on the part of the writers. Daryl was tortured by water, but Frost wasn't.

(Love how the light is shining down on Daryl’s wings in this picture.)

At one point, Frost says something to Daryl about how are they going to just keep staring dreamily at one another. Kind of an odd reference, no? On the one hand, I think it's a reference to Bethyl, because while the two of them stared dreamily at each other over dinner, there was Frosty Cola on the table. But on the other hand, it could also be a reference to the hallucination theme.

When Daryl and Leah and the rest of them go to check out the town, Daryl stops next to a van that has its hatchback open. It just another way of showing a trunk being open. He uses power lines to alert Maggie to their presence. Could be part of the power/battery/lamp theory.

At this point, Daryl also puts his hand on a mailbox. Once again, I’ll go over the mailboxes later in the week, but this seemed very purposeful to me.

Incidentally, we learn more of the Reapers’ names. Powell, Washington, Fish, and of course Carver. Washington could be a reference to the revolution theme (George Washington). I also thought of George Washington Carver. He was a famous scientist who worked on agricultural methods for eradicating famine. 👀

And of course there's Fish. It sounds like their names that are purposely chosen for their symbolism.

I’ve already said I get heavy Claimer vibes from the Reapers. That was definitely reinforced here. When Carver and Daryl were arguing, Carver kept saying that he was chirping. He said, “Chirp, chirp” to Daryl several times. Which is clearly a bird reference.

But then he also says, “if this dirt bag wants to play, I’ll teach him the rules.” Which is almost a direct call back to Lenny saying that they had to, "teach Daryl." And this extends even to what happens in this episode. Maggie and her group getting out of the house while the Reapers are still inside was very reminiscent of Rick getting out of the Claimer house without them realizing it. I’ve pointed out before how much the situation is like that one. The Claimers were hunting Rick, and Daryl ends up joining them. Here, the Reapers are hunting Maggie for some as yet unknown reason, and Daryl has joined them.

I want to point out a cryptic conversation that Carver, Leah, and Daryl have here.

Carver, talking about Daryl: We both know who he is, deep down.

Leah: What?

Carver: I was there, remember? After? Do you really think this is going to end any different?

Leah: So this is what? You looking out for me?

Carver: Always.

Then she basically calls bullsh*t on that because he allowed Pope to lock her in a room that was set on fire.

But what are they talking about here? In a generic way, it sounds like Leah tends to trust people that she shouldn't, and it always ends badly. Carver is telling her that she shouldn't trust Daryl or it's gonna happen again.

But we’re also kind of thinking that he's actually talking about Daryl here. When he says “after,” maybe he means after Daryl left Leah the first time, in Find Me. So what does he mean about what happened after? It sounds like Leah didn't handle it so well. Did she try to commit suicide? Did she do something else? We don't know. It was just a really cryptic conversation and it's hinting at something we haven't seen yet.

But after that conversation, Carver also says, "You’re not seriously gonna —" but he gets cut off. Sirius reference.

Finally, let’s talk about the title. On the Inside. One thing we’ve learned is that when there are multiple story lines going on in an episode, the title must refer to all of them in one way or another. And often, it will be literal for one story but symbolic for another.

The most obvious meaning of the title is from Daryl’s story line. He’s the “inside man” in the Reapers organization, and is spying on behalf of Maggie and the rest of his people.

But what about Connie and Virgil? Inside of what? The house? Maybe, but that’s pretty cheesy. This is another reason I think this foreshadows Beth and Daryl being inside the CRM. On the “inside” of that organization and trying to get out.

TTD:

A quick note on The Talking Dead for this episode. There weren’t any massive TD smoking guns or anything, but I wanted to point out how they react to the idea of romance between Connie and Virgil.

I’ve said this about a million times, but they only let the actors tease romance partners for Daryl when they AREN’T going to happen. So, I often point to when Lauren Ridloff was first on TTD in S9. People asked about a Connie/Daryl relationship and she made a Daryl/Connie shower joke. Most of the fandom took that to mean they would go canon, but the opposite is actually true. Every time they’ve made that joke, it hasn’t happened.

Meanwhile, with Beth, who was the only one he had really obvious romantic chemistry with, and for whom Daryl’s feelings have now been confirmed, they’re constantly directing us away from it. Saying things like, they were brother and sister, or we didn’t miss out on any great romance, Daryl felt about her like he felt about Sophia, etc. And that, to me, says that Bethyl is the one that will happen. The other things are just teases, but they’re directing us away from the truth so that it’s more of a surprise when it happens. (Not that it will be for TD, but for most of the fandom it will be.)

Anyway, they kind of did the same thing with Connie and Virgil. Again, remember that when they asked LR about Daryl, she teasingly suggested it would happen and made a sex joke. But here, when asked about Connie and Virgil, she acted like it was absurd and she never would have thought of that. And if you ask me, there was WAY more going on in this episode between Connie and Virgil than there ever was between Connie and Daryl.

That, coupled with all the Alone references, and I’m relatively sure Connie and Virgil will be a thing. Because they aren’t canon yet, I can’t prove it. But if/when they do, we can point at this as more evidence of what won’t go canon, and what will. I’m just mentioning. 😉

I think that's all the details I have for now. This is definitely a super interesting episode and I'll be talking more about it over the next few days. Thoughts?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

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chidoroki · 4 years ago

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In Defense of TPN S2

Okay, so before y’all start throwing your salt shakers at me, let me explain. Yes, I’m just as upset and annoyed with how the second season decided to cut out so much content that us manga readers were finally hoping to see: no Yuugo, Goldy Pond arc or GP Resistance, Lucas or Glory Bell escapees, Adam, poachers, or Cuvitidala Search. Since this season also (sort of) reached the 2047 time skip, we were also denied of the Paradise Hideout, Jin, Hayato, Ayshe, the Seven Walls & Imperial Capital Battle arcs and Alex due to the anime’s so-called “original story” idea. While some manga events still took place (B06-32 getting blown up, the trio’s reunion, Norman’s time at Lambda, the cursed blood and the Grace Field raid), they were all significantly changed and barely held the same emotional impact, as we see very little to no build up to these moments. Several volumes were skipped completely and despite others being touched lightly, we unfortunately missed out on major character development for everyone, most notably for Emma, but also the lighter side of things such as chef Ray, medic Anna, Rossi learning morse code, Minerva!Norman, etc. There’s honestly so much of the main story to talk about and I totally understand why we’re all so ticked off, especially since that darn slideshow did absolutely nothing to calm our hearts at the end of ep11.

However.. I’m not gonna stand by and say this season was worthless. Highly disappointing given everything I just mentioned of course, I get it, so don’t curse me out just yet. People can trash talk it all they want and I’ll sympathize 110%, but I personally won’t do so. I love this series too much and that’s a huge reason as to why I didn’t drop this season. Usually whenever I start a new series, it’s because I become interested in a character or two. I find that no matter what happens in that series, whether the story intrigues me or not, I’ll continue it if only to see more of that character. If the story is good, it’s just another plus for me to stay addicted, so while this season totally missed their chance to adapt the wonderful source material of my favorite series, I stayed to watch Emma, Ray and all the other children I’ve grown to love over the past two years. Another reason why I stayed on this train wreck was because of how thought provoking it became as turned into yet another guessing game for me. After first watching the OP and even more after ep3 aired, I kept wondering what would they include or leave out. How would they handle this scene if this and that were already changed? How would they fix this problem if so and so isn’t here? It felt like I was watching season one blind all over again; seeing all these little clues sprinkled everywhere and yet not having any idea on how the story was going to continue or end got me excited. That’s why I came to love this story in the first place, so having the chance to feel that again alongside characters I love so dearly.. it was fun for me (until the slideshow punched me in the face). While many people will look at this season and declare the manga and first season are both superior (which they are, I agree), I’m still sitting over here like “oh look, more content!”

With all that nonsense out of the way, I thought I would go ahead and ramble about everything I believe the second season did well enough, because if I can take any heat off this adaptation then you’re damn right I’m gonna try. So if you’re wondering why on earth a manga reader even mildly enjoyed this season, it’s honestly just the little things such as a decently adapted or improved panel/scene, any new, interesting elements the anime may have included, or other personal favorite moments of mine.. which there were a lot of.

So no negativity past here kiddos, we’re gonna be as optimistic and lively as an orange antenna.

(mild manga spoiler warning, I guess? but I’m sure it’s nothing y’all haven’t heard us readers mention/complain about already)

- If you’ve read any of my reactions to this season, you would know how much love I have for “Identity.” Not only is the song still an absolute banger, but the opening sequence itself is fantastic. From the contrast between human vs demon, the cameos, the symbolism, the match cuts, the build up to the chorus.. just everything. I could talk about it endlessly and watch it several times over and still be impressed.

- Lani’s stupid fall.

- How clearly it shows Emma’s condition becoming progressively worse.

- Her scream.

- Ray’s apology, especially how soft his voice was when saying “sorry, Emma,” and the smile he gives after she tells him not to worry about it.

- And his entire promise to keep everyone in their family safe. Oh I was so happy to finally hear him say that.

- This exchange between Don and Gilda.

- Rossi and those darn faces he gives us. This boy is such a mood.

- How involved the younger kids were so they don’t feel like they were just.. there, which served as a reminder that everyone from Grace Field is smart, not just Emma and Ray.

- How pretty the demon forest looked at night when all those odd creatures started glowing (even those darn goowee).

- So happy with how this panel was adapted. That smirk of his is everything.

- The fact they remembered a small detail such as the bell.

- Knowing now that they cut so much out of the manga, I’m glad we at least got the hug.

- The ending sequence gave us a small look at Sonja and Mujika’s travels by themselves. “Magic” is also so very calming to listen to.

- How the children hug both Emma and Ray, as manga only had our girl receiving the hugs.

- Sonju & Mujika’s voice actors fit them perfectly.

- How impressed Ray was when he first tried their cooking. No wonder he was so eager to learn how to cook.

- Sonju’s story about the demon world from ch46-47 practically adapted word for word.

- While the manga also shows us how frighted the duo is upon learning they’re living in the worst case scenario, it’s seeing them and their hands physically shake that help push this scene a little bit more (not that you can tell this by a still frame but trust me).

- Their synchronized smirks and how well their excitement was not only animated but how genuine and real it sounds too. Emma’s laugh and the fact they made Ray of all people sound hopeful is fantastic.

- They kept the small Ray from this panel and made him better.

- I just love seeing him be optimistic.

- The entire scene when Emma & Ray are both scolded by the younger kids for acting so recklessly is perfect.

- They kept this tiny comment of Nat’s.

- Finally getting chef Ray and hearing how confident he is with his cooking skills already.

- Seeing other children like Dominic pick up archery and be surprisingly good at it.

- Anime pushed Emma’s quick learning ability further with archery by showing us how easily she could land a bullseye even after hitting something midair.

- How well they animated Emma’s first kill, from following the arrow as she pulls it back to when she releases it as it flies towards the bird’s eye.

- The fact that this scene and the next both used a water droplet to symbolize death just like we saw during season one with Conny and Norman’s shipments are so satisfying.

- The gupna scene and how well it emphasized Emma’s reaction to taking a life and how upset/bothered she was in doing so. The addition of a butterfly helps as well, as it’s another way this series tends to convey the idea of death. (you remember how many the OP had, right? tons.)

- I only just noticed that Ray is seen looking at a similar butterfly in the following scene as well.

- The anime doing this panel justice. Ep2 is probably the episode that follows the manga the closest and did real well in regards to that.

- Ray beating Sonju at chess.

- Chris knowing exactly which way to go without using the compass, which makes sense as he was seen mapping out the surrounding area in the previous episode.

- The kid’s adorable little freak out.-

- Giving us a better idea on how large the reference room of the B06-32 shelter truly is.

- Finally being able to hear our boy Nat play the piano. The fact that his first song is named “Nat King Cool” as a possible reference to Nat King Cole is also great.

- Rossi being an accurate representation of the manga readers while watching this episode.

- Chris being his cute self.

- Seeing Ray’s sleeping face after the manga denied us so many times by hiding it.

- It’s.. close enough. We love our chef.

- I love the idea that Nat plays a couple songs before everyone goes to sleep. That’s so precious.

- SHE!! With her hair down!

- Rossi teasing Don and the fact that just mentioning Gilda is enough to scare him.

- It remembered that Gilda has a tendency to count all the children.

- The level of confidence Isabella has in her kids.

- Ray being oh so close to shooting a human with an arrow.

- This hug.

- Chris leading the group through the underground tunnels, which he also does in manga but we learn earlier in this ep it’s due to all the time he’s played down here.

- Because of his extensive knowledge of the shelter’s layout, Chris also guides everyone to one of the secret entrances to escape after he realizes the intruders are only stationed at the main two.

- Ray’s first demon kill is smooth as hell.

- Curse this scene for being so dark because that damn smile Isabella gives us is amazing.

- Since Andrew was cut, Chris and Dominic survive the aftermath of the shelter’s destruction without any injuries.

- Although we weren’t expecting to see their older 2047 selves this soon, they look good okay?

- The emotion in her voice throughout this entire scene (probably the closest we were ever gonna get to Emma doubting herself in ch109/114 too).

- Please just let me enjoy this moment when Ray noticed her negative thoughts and stepped in to help just as I expected.

- Vylk and that goofy smile of his.

- Watching the duo communicate without words during the chase through the demon town.

- Our girl clearing this jump effortlessly.

- Norman’s squishy cheeks.

- Ray’s slap could’ve been better, I know, but at this point I’m happy they still included it.

- The fact we can see Ray’s face during the reunion hug this time.

- And this hug.

- Remembering the small panel of Ray noticing Emma’s bluff.

- Finally hearing this conversation because both voice actors do a wonderful job with it and thankfully the dialogue is on par with the manga as well. Also that one moment when the shadow falls across Emma’s face like that.

- Gilda comforting Alicia after her nightmare.

- The scene is very dear to me so of course I appreciate every little panel we can get.

- How carefree Ray sounded with his “Nopes.”

- How I only realized just now that this panel was also adapted.

- Okay so who’s brilliant idea was it to have the sun rise towards the end of this conversation as Ray helps Emma regain her confidence? I just wanna personally thank them because it was a genius move and I’ll treasure it forever.

- They kept Barbara’s slip-up.

- Like our demon friends, I think the Lambda crew’s voices fit them rather well, although Zazie’s was totally unexpected, like dude you’re 5, why is your voice so low?

- Another “it could’ve been better but at least they included it” moment.

- Vincent’s smile here cracks me up and I don’t know why.

- Barbara’s anger.

- The short snippet we get of the ch126 conversation when the duo was visiting Chris.

- The table from Barbara’s outrage was never magically fixed like it was in manga, so we get this nice shot of Norman reflected in the broken surface.

- The trio’s conversation about the royals and cursed blood follows manga relatively well.

- Anime did this panel better, I’m sorry. Thank you for showing my girl getting angry.

- This frame of Ray.

- This comment of Norman’s that made me wanna slap him.

- How Norman’s face is constantly in the shadows during this scene, which is something his office at the Paradise hideout probably wouldn’t have given us, so hurray for this location instead.

- How he and Emma bicker over how many days their deal should last.

- When the camera shifts in and out of focus during Barbara’s seizure.

- How this scene hid Norman’s face until they revealed the demon the crew killed.

- It really is the small details that make me happy.

- This smile of Don’s.

- I’ll take all the hugs I can get.

- Emma and Gilda’s little headbutt.

- Why does my boy look so grown up and handsome here? Hello??

- I suppose I have to give credit for Peter’s voice actor too hm?

- Actually making Smee a bit more relevant.

- Since the fight against Legravalima was cut, this shot of Zazie is the closest we’re gonna get to seeing him without his paper bag, but it does improve on that one panel of him at the start of ch153.

- Seeing more of Norman’s time at Lambda as well as the aftermath of the explosion.

- While this scene pales in comparison to its manga counterpart, having the sun set behind him while Norman delivers his famous line was still a decent touch. It’s a nice contrast to the sunrise in ep6 and I enjoy it very much.

- Wild demons managing to somehow successful jump scare me not once, not twice, but three times in a single episode.

- Emma getting back up to protect her family despite her injury. (i mean, it’s no ch93 comeback but oh well)

- Ray getting in another decent shot at a demon.

- This face of his.

- Seeing just how quickly the drug causes the demons to degenerate and all the chaos it causes.

- Actually showing Norman attacking a demon rather than just saying he killed Yverk off panel in ch153.

- Hate me all you want but the anime did this panel better too.

- The ch153 discussion is more or less the same but the fact they added in Norman looking to Ray for help and just having him snap back instead was priceless.

- Sonju’s grin.

- The scene when Norman stops Zazie’s attack may only last like five seconds but it’s wonderfully animated and I find myself replaying it countless times.

- How to make the manga readers and anime-onlys panic with just one sentence:

- Isabella being clever as ever by leaking false info into the radio the escapees have to lure them back to Grace Field.

- I just think Emma looks so mature and pretty here?

- Had Norman actually apologize to the demons.. or was just about to anyways.

- Demon Emma is precious and must be protected.

- The adorable mixup between both Emmas.

- I haven’t a clue on where or how the kids managed to gather all the supplies to create several hot air balloons and explosives.. but they did, somehow, and I’m impressed because I’m assuming that all happened within a day.

- Ma’am, could you be any more smug?

- Simon! And he ends up surviving!

- Having Sonju fight alongside the Lambda crew.

- Which reminds me that this is possible since the Imperial Capital battle didn’t happen (yet, in this timeline), so the three of them never received their injuries from Legravalima either.

- The smoke bombs, only because I remembered how Sonju used them back in ep1 while rescuing Ray so it’s nice to see them being used again.

- Showing Norman actually use a bow and arrow this time. He also hits his target on the first try through a smokescreen.

- Ray having enough strength to knock out two demons with a simple metal pipe. In ch169 he’s seen holding down a grown man so yeah, I can believe this as well.

- Having Jemima, Yvette, Rossi & Mark disguises themselves as shipments in order to rally up the other Grace Field kids. Mark’s face and the noise he makes upon seeing Naila again is also precious.

- Peter actually falling for Vincent’s trap.

- Getting one young child to listen to you is hard enough, but Emma manages to get about 183 of them (yes I counted, give or take the four who also disguised themselves) to follow her orders in no time flat.

- Phil helping with the plan to lead all the children to the elevator.

- It made me nervous upon seeing it but they made the Day & Night ceiling real pretty.

- I knew the reunion was coming and still cried.

- Take all my hell yeahs.

- I could listen to her say this on repeat and be overjoyed every single time.

- She’s beauty, she’s grace, she’ll point at gun in your face.

- Getting to witness someone shoot at Peter since no one did so in the manga? Wonderful. Having that person be Isabella who literally lands a perfect shot not even a full second after he pulls out that disc? Perfection.

- Mujika and Vylk bringing in hundreds of civilian demons as reinforcements.

- James!

- Those real quick shots of the ancestors because I had given up on thinking we would’ve seen them at all since the Seven Walls arc was skipped.

- I’m actually surprised they kept his death in and it’s as harsh as the manga.

- Ray confronting Isabella with the addition of this line.

- This panel being animated along with Emma’s thoughts from ch177 towards Isabella even though that chapter’s major event didn’t happen.

- I certainly can not forget about this hug.

- At least anime!Emma told the boys her plan before reaching the door, or didn’t keep it a total secret? If not then I’ll praise the boys for accepting her crazy idea regardless.

- Boy, do you know how much I love you and your smirks?

- SHE. STAYS. ALIVE!!!

- Vincent and Norman’s little fist bump.

- Different but close enough. Still cute though.

- The amount of emotions this one shot makes me feel is limitless. Catch me crying tears of joy over it for the rest of my life.

- Having Phil not only getting the chance to see a train but to ride one as well.

- This pretty shot of Gilda.

- As well as this beautiful one with Emma and Mujika.

- They gave us older Phil. Not sure how much older but he’s still adorable.

- Lastly, the goddamn soundtrack! Of course we heard a bunch of the songs from season one, but the new ones such as “The Evil-Blooded Girl” and the Arabic version of “Isabella’s Lullaby” are absolutely fantastic. I still have to listen to full soundtrack but from what little bit I heard of such songs such as “Nat King Ballade,” “Crisis,” “Norman’s Lament,” and “The Temple Ruins,” I’m sure every track is an absolute joy. I’m so happy we had Obata back for this season.

And that’s the end of it, I guess? Of course it’s not a perfect list, as the majority of it was just personal favorites of mine but oh well. (this is just as long as ray’s birthday post too, oh lord)

I’m not gonna be one of those manga readers who continuously nag people to go read the original source material, because that’s annoying and I understand that some people just might not be up for it. They might watch a series, take it all in and then move on to the next one. Others might want to find out about every little detail and invest more time into the story. It’s totally fine to enjoy a series your own way and you shouldn’t feel pressured to continue something you’re only mildly interested in or feel bad that you love something others might despise. Just do whatever makes you happy. If you wanna check out the manga and see why us readers love it to pieces, then I promise it’s worth it, especially if you enjoyed the anime or wish to see more of any character.. or the entire story. If the manga ain’t for you, then I hope the anime did something for you. It definitely could have been better though, I can’t argue with that.

Whether you’re anime-only or manga reader, can we all still hope for a remake? This season had more flaws than any amount of praise I could give, but if years down the line we get the FMA: Brotherhood or Hellsing: Ultimate treatment where the next anime adaptation follows the manga perfectly, you know I’ll be all for it. I’m too deep in this TPN hole and I’ll probably never leave.

#the promised neverland #tpn anime #chidoroki used chatter #dont worry.. im still sad as hell about this adaptation.. this season just gave me a little excitement.. thats all #hey i re-watched this season so you wouldnt have to #..not like that says much considering ill probably go ahead and watch the dub too.. ah something is seriously wrong with me

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