#also so many performances by the great masters in the past have been lost to time bcs there're so recordings

[depressedraisin]

when zakir hussain rakesh chaurasia and niladri kumar are playing a triple concerto for sitar tabla flute conducted by alpesh chauhan and accompanied by the symphony orchestra but you're just a broke student living in the other end of the country

[deadpresidents]

If for some reason George W Bush had run against Jeb Bush for the republican nomination who would have won?

That's a pretty great idea for a topic for historians to debate.

I think people forget how effective of a campaigner that George W. Bush was. Yes, he was pretty goofy at times and a master of malapropisms. But he was pretty incredible on the campaign trail in front of smaller crowds and as a one-on-one retail politician. Much like Lyndon B. Johnson, those skills did not translate to television and, on many occasions, it reinforced the idea that Bush was dumb. But simply believing that Bush was dumb is one of the reasons why so many people underestimated him -- and that made him a very dangerous opponent for pretty much everybody that he ran against beginning with Ann Richards in his first race for Governor of Texas to John McCain and Al Gore in 2000 and finally to John Kerry in 2004. That was evident in his Presidential debate performances. In my opinion, Bush probably lost the first of his three debates to John Kerry in 2004, but I've always felt that he won the other two debates against Kerry and all three debates against Al Gore in 2000.

George W. Bush was also one of the most disciplined leading Presidential candidates of the past 40-50 years. He stayed on message, no matter where he was campaigning, who he was campaigning against, or what other news might have been seeping into coverage of him at the time. That was a credit to his enormously talented political teams over the years, but it was also the result of hard work. He'd still say something odd or mangle a few sentences at every campaign stop, but you never had to guess where he stood on the positions he built his campaigns upon.

While he was certainly no Ronald Reagan or Barack Obama when it came to charisma, George W. Bush did have his own unique brand of charisma. Despite his background and the privileges he had from day one due to his family name and his father's accomplishments, Bush had a real ability to connect with people while campaigning. People genuinely liked him. I mean, that's even better understood now when you hear about his relationship with his surprise BFF Michelle Obama or with fellow Presidents Bill Clinton and Barack Obama. Many of his political opponents have noted in interviews or books that they've found it hard not to like him once they got to know him. Again, that's an attribute that doesn't translate well to television, but it was clearly a strength when he was meeting folks while campaigning. He made a lot of people want to vote for him -- as opposed to John Kerry, whose personality didn't inspire a whole lot of fervent supporters in 2004 (I say that with personal experience).

Jeb Bush was a more serious, wonky politician -- with a personality more similar to that of their father whereas George W. famously took after his outspoken, direct mother. Jeb did not easily connect with voters, and was a more naturally cautious politician while George W. was more emotional and decisive (for better and worse). One example of Jeb's cautious nature is demonstrated by the poor timing of his eventual candidacy for President. Once Jeb finally decided to run for President in 2016 he was nearly 10 years removed from the end of his term as Governor of Florida. He jumped into a crowded field where it was difficult to distinguish himself despite his famous last name (and the exclamation point behind his first name on his campaign logo) and was steamrolled by Donald Trump. I think George W. probably would have defended himself and his family against Trump's attacks better than Jeb did if George W. had been the candidate in 2016 instead of an ex-President in retirement. Jeb's 2016 campaign was almost sad in how timid he came across at times against Trump.

Both brothers were born with more advantages than most people will ever have come their way in a lifetime. But I do think George W. tried to be someone other than his father's son more than Jeb ever did. George W. ran for Governor of Texas in 1994 despite the fact that his opponent was the legendary Governor Ann Richards. Jeb ran for Governor of Florida the same year, and their parents believed that Jeb was the Bush son with the real political future and kind of saw George W.'s candidacy as a hopeless cause. But on Election night in 1994, George W. was victorious and Jeb was not. I think that Jeb Bush wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, but George W. wanted to surpass George H.W. Bush's legacy. He didn't in terms of the quality of his Presidency, but George W. Bush did get reelected as President while George H.W. Bush was only a one-term President.

So, in a head-to-head race, I think George W. would probably smoke Jeb. He was just that much more skilled as a politician. Plus, a brother vs. brother matchup would probably be emotionally difficult for anybody and I think George W. clearly had more of a killer instinct than Jeb ever did (that's probably a perfect setup for a drone strike or war crimes comment). Bush had no problem running a ruthless campaign, either. If you don't know what I mean, look up the 2000 South Carolina GOP primary campaign against McCain and the Swift Boat ads against Kerry in '04 (he was also one of the hatchet men for his father during the 1988 campaign against Michael Dukakis, which was one of the nastiest campaigns in American history up to that point). Anyway, I just think George W. was a better politician than Jeb ever hoped to be. In fact, from a purely political perspective -- as a campaigner out on the trail, as a one-on-one retail politician, even as a debater -- George W. was probably a more talented politician than his father. Of course, George W. was nowhere near as experienced or competent as George H.W. Bush was as President. But George W. would easily defeat his brother in a one-on-one campaign and I think he'd even give his father some trouble on the trail in a one-on-one race between them. And then if he was elected, he'd promptly become the really bad President we all remember him as!

Great question and interesting thought experiment!

[kumo10969]

The Answer

Toru x Taka

*There might be some mistakes in words or grammar, please forgive me. English is not my first language. I just write it for fun.

Warnings: None

Summary: The moment I rang the doorbell, I knew that I already had the answer of love in my heart.

In the past, we were young. At the age when I should be in the prime of life, I lowered my head. The pressure was stuck on my shoulder like an enormous mountain, and I couldn't breathe. The rehearsal that day was ended because of the mistakes that were made by the guitarist. He often played a wrong note before my voice came out. In the chorus he couldn't keep up with the drum beat. As the lead singer, I was also angry. So I saw everything was going wrong, then I put the microphone on the ground, opened the door, rushed out, put on the cap, and kicked the chair in the corridor. There's no difference between now and a few minutes ago, right? It's the time of the teenage rebellion. I walked along the street with the cool wind to watch the cars and the passerby. I can ignite the flames in different tracks of my life. I sigh with emotion about that even just now, then, my anger has been reduced in half.

As a result, I still didn't have the courage to sing. No, I was just afraid to look up. I was arrogant in the rehearsal room, but I lost my voice completely in the performance in the evening. Countless pairs of eyes stared at me. My confidence evaporated as I sang notes to the drum beat. When I returned to the present moment, the guitarist played wrong again. Well, although I wouldn't get into the strike for a while, the guitarist still played poorly as always. Why did that man keep staring at me. In retrospect, he also came to the last performance. I wonder what's his name.

Boring. It's really annoying. But it's too annoying to speak out. That man followed me to the backstage. He walked faster and faster. When I got to the cold white corridor, he patted my shoulder and said his name was Yamashita Toru. He also commented on my voice like a stupid teacher. He's just a teenaged child, but he made him look like he was older than me. Yamashita told me that it was a pity that I had been singing with my head down.

It's a pity, I think so. I didn't know how many times I was denied, but I also denied myself in the performance which ended just now - staring at the floor and reading the inflexible lyrics. What he said to me - I was encouraged? It seems that he said so last time. It's suspicious. I looked at him askance, there was no evil intention in his eyes, maybe. I asked him if he wanted to invite me to be the lead singer of his band again. He nodded and just wanted to say something, I interrupted him directly:

“Just don't ask me again. I won't go.”

Yamashita was stunned. He raised his hand and put it down again. He put the piece of paper with contact information in my hand again - just like last time.

“Please reconsider it. Your voice is really distinctive. I really appreciate it.”

Here we go again. He began to point out like a great master once again, which made me realize that he must be a stiff, lifeless and difficult guy to deal with. No, he's actually a repulsive handsome guy. I'd rather not accept his suggestion.

I replied with an okay and walked away.

The third time, the fourth time, the fifth time, this guy said the same thing, and the place and words did not even change. I admired his willpower. It's better to spend this effort to please the lovely girls. The same answer sent him away. I didn't know when he would come again.

I haven't cried for a long time, but I'm crying now. I couldn't write lyrics and melodies. The guitarist who is so bad at his ability is still urging me to make comments everywhere. I should have been angry with him directly, but I shut myself up. And now I'm crying alone.

When can I live through this period of time? I ate instant noodles bucket by bucket, and there were lots of waste paper everywhere. I can't overcome the shortcoming of singing with my head down. It seemed that fewer and fewer people came to see the performance, and my life might not last. My mind was full of chagrin and the thoughts of not resigning.

The pressure was too much to breathe.

The audience's evaluation was as important to me as life. Therefore, I received a variety of different impressions and mixed feelings.

With wiping tears, I found the note with the bad handwriting from the wastebasket.

“Hey, is your band still hiring?”

The person on the other end of the phone laughed. And that was the first time I heard his laughter.

The coffee cup bottomed out and bitterness spread in my mouth for countless times. Toru, who was sitting at the next to me, was trying to create a set of chords, and I drew a big wrong mark at the note just now. I scratched my head and listened to the little tune that the guitarist hummed at random. Suddenly I had an idea.

He asked me why I was suddenly inspired.

I said that because the gods felt pity for me as I couldn't get an new idea for long time, they knocked my head, which directly inspired me.

I didn't know how I finished this speech with a serious face, nor did I know how Toru listened to me with a serious face.

It's really annoying. I was inspired just because of you. Why don't you understand?

The moment before I got the answer, I was still thinking. What is love on earth, the problem that bothered me for a long time in my youth. The search engines were useless. On second thought, if this problem could be solved by Google, those so-called “love experts” and “emotional mentors” on the Internet would lose their jobs immediately. At least for the sake of other people's career, I deleted the typing box.

Rebelliously changing girlfriends frequently, my heart is like a tangle, inextricably intertwined. I have been living alone for many years, and turned internal friction into power time and time again, but the exhaustion of fuel let me feel dead beat.

What is love? Love is not as beautiful as I heard before. Loving someone with kindness and be loved with warm. Looking back on the rare and uncontrollable feeling in my heart, when was the last time I yearned to be loved and cared about others? Not the cheers of the audience, nor the signs of progress in the song creation process.

While pondering, the ringing of the telephone startled me.

“I just had a brilliant idea. Is it okay for you to come here now? Or else I'll record a demo of the guitar and send it to you first.”

Covering my heart where the blood was flowing rapidly, I looked at the clock, tilted my head and held the phone next to my ear, then got up to put on my coat.

The moment I hung up, I recalled the scribbled handwriting on countless pieces of wasted paper.

Except for the unnamed notes, it is his name.

The moment I rang the doorbell, I knew that I already had the answer of love in my heart.

Fin.

[denimbex1986]

'It says much about the chatter around Andrew Haigh’s dreamy, delicate drama that, once the film finally begins – when our homegrown heroes, Paul Mescal and Andrew Scott, share their first scene together – they immediately resemble old pals.

A prominent pre-publicity campaign will have that effect, and you could be forgiven for thinking Haigh’s film has been in cinemas for ages.

It hasn’t. We’ve just been enjoying the giddy awards buzz (including a Golden Globe nomination for Scott) and the jovial junket clips on social media (our leading men are a hoot together in real life).

There is, as you may have guessed, a lot going on in here

It might also come as a surprise to learn that All of Us Strangers boasts a haunting, supernatural theme. It is in fact a story of grief and ghosts; of a lonely, anxious writer quietly revisiting his past to better shape his future.

It’s also about love – familial and romantic – and the things we do to try and make sense of it.

Adam (a never-better Scott) lives a solitary life on the top floor of a soulless London high-rise. A quiet, watchful type, he spends most of his time staring at a blank page, wondering what to do with it – for Adam is a frustrated screenwriter who can’t seem to remember how to start a story.

One evening, a noisy fire alarm changes everything.

Adam’s apartment block is a new-build, and as far as he knows there are no other residents. He might be wrong.

While he waits outside on the street for the alarm to stop ringing, our weary protagonist notices a mysterious neighbour staring down at him from a sixth-floor window. It is Harry (Mescal), a handsome 20-something who’s about to make a big entrance.

Later that night, a tipsy Harry knocks on our friend’s door, looking for company. Adam – instantly smitten, but afraid to admit it – won’t invite him in, not tonight. Instead, he returns to his work.

It appears Adam is trying to write a piece about his childhood – and to help bring it to life, he books himself a train ticket home.

The family house in Croydon is exactly as he remembered it, and Adam’s charismatic father (Jamie Bell) is delighted to see him. So, too, is his mum (Claire Foy) who insists on a homecoming toast.

There is just one minor detail we forgot to mention: Adam’s parents died in a car crash shortly before his 12th birthday.

These are, one presumes, the ghosts of his mum and dad – but is Adam fazed by any of this? Not at all. Are the ghosts real, or is it all in Adam’s head? We don’t really know.

Whatever is happening, it appears to have lit a fire in his belly – and Adam eventually works up the courage to invite Harry over for a drink.

A romantic relationship ensues, and on one of his many trips back home, Adam decides the time is right to tell ghost mum and dad that he’s gay. A complicated scenario unfolds.

There is, as you may have guessed, a lot going on in here.

Drawing inspiration from a Japanese novel – Taichi Yamada’s Strangers – Haigh’s dizzying tale operates at a higher level than most.

This is his moment, his masterpiece, and he is magnificent in it

You’ll have your questions about this film, and I certainly had mine, but part of its appeal is that it never feels the need to overexplain itself.

A fantasy such as this is easier to digest when it’s populated by real people with real feelings and real things to say – and despite its far-fetched peculiarities, All of Us Strangers is, at its core, a compelling human drama to which so many of us can relate.

The ghost element is a bonus, and Adam’s mum and dad are beautifully brought to life by a pair of accomplished British performers.

Foy is terrific as a conflicted mother who cares for her son’s well-being but asks all the wrong questions about his personal life. Bell, an actor who rarely gets the credit he deserves, is simply wonderful as Adam’s regretful old man who wishes he had paid more attention.

Mescal, meanwhile, is quietly brilliant as Harry – another lost soul hoping to connect with someone, anyone.

The star of the show is, of course, Scott – whose subtle, breathtaking turn marks the beginning of a new phase for the talented Dubliner.

This is his moment, his masterpiece, and he is magnificent in it.

A gorgeous piece of work, Haigh’s film stumbles ever so slightly in its final sequence – but a minor narrative wobble is allowed, and I can’t think of another film that moved me the way this one did.

It deserves everything good that comes its way.

*****'

[kenahlihsoul]

Reiki Introduction

Panache Desai once wrote, “Life opens up in so many different ways when your energy has been awakened.” On the surface this statement can sound eccentric or scary to people who have never experienced an awakening such as he describes. However, this can have many different appearances. For example, when you get a good night’s sleep and wake up feeling energized the next day, that is an example of an awakening. It does not always have to be spiritual or awe-inspiring, it can simply mean taking care of your well being, making an external and internal check, and reprioritizing.

What is reiki?

Reiki is a Japanese healing technique to help with energy within yourself and surrounding you. The practitioner uses light touch with their hands or hovers slightly above your body to guide the energy to promote healing physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. This practice benefits you in whatever way you choose. Reiki is a complementary science or pseudoscience. There are various studies accomplished in this field that have pointed to the benefits of reiki; however it is built upon a belief system that has not yet been proven fact by the scientific method. Therefore, you should seek a medical professional for any ongoing or serious issues.

History of reiki

There is a high regard for knowing where something comes from. History, or the origins of any particular thing helps you to understand and comprehend it better. Reiki and the culture surrounding it is no exception. The word reiki is roughly translated to “mysterious atmosphere” or “miraculous sign”; it comes from the Japanese words “rei” meaning universal and “ki” meaning life energy. The most current and commonly used form of this healing practice was developed by Mikao Usui in 1922. The beliefs surrounding reiki and what inspired it have been practiced for approximately 2500 years. In the past it has also been referred to as palm healing or hands-on healing. Before Usui much of the knowledge pertaining to this cultural practice was lost and forgotten or evolved (much like what Usui did). Mikao Usui began his journey to reiki while reading sacred Sanskrit texts of Indian culture. His curiosity grew immensely and believed this is how “the greats” such as Buddha and Jesus were able to heal the sick. This is when he decided to become a master of the practice and called it reiki. He passed down his teachings to different lineages to help heal people far beyond his time on the planet. 

What to expect during a reiki session

Reiki is a technique that is passed down from teacher to student. Each lineage has its own unique rituals that have been shared amongst the teachers and students, and each practitioner has their own individualistic way of practicing. Therefore, you will experience a variety of ways reiki is performed; however, there is a standard that occurs throughout all practitioners when you go to a session. A standard session will include an introductory period where the practitioner will prepare you and make you feel as comfortable as possible. Most will have a table for you to lay down on to make it easier for them to move around you to work, but some do work from a couch, chair or the floor. From here their intro may differ, some may light incense, explain the process and what is going to happen, play music, and so forth. Remember if you ever feel uncomfortable during the session speak up and let your practitioner know immediately. They are there to help heal and make you feel as comfortable as possible. Once the practitioner finishes their intro and you are situated on their table they will begin the hand healing portion of the session. This can be hands-on or hovering depending on the practitioner and your preferences. Sessions typically take anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour. Some practitioners have a closing ritual they do as well and some do not. If there is one it usually includes a way to bring you to awareness and discussion about the session; how it felt and the practitioner's input. 

Benefits of reiki

A lot of people ask me: When should I get reiki done? Well really the honest answer is as often as you feel is needed. Humans have a tendency to get caught up in everyday life; you often don’t know when your energy is blocked, your subconscious is trying to communicate with you, or you simply just need a moment to relax and slow down. Reiki is more than just a session you can go to for an hour, it is a practice that can be incorporated in everyday life and your practitioner might even provide you with some advice on what you can do in between your sessions to help. Now all of this might sound like some glorified rest while someone waves their hands around you, but there are many benefits that can come from reiki. Let’s start with the physical benefits. A lot of people will use reiki when they are experiencing chronic pain, migraines or headaches, muscle tightness, nerve pain, and other chronic conditions. It is important to remember that all energy is interconnected; your physical self might affect your emotional or spiritual self, and sometimes it is the other way around and it is your mental or emotional self that is contributing to physical ailments. That being said, some of the mental and emotional benefits include relief from anxiety, depression, past trauma, addiction, or even better control over your emotions such as anger, envy, or grief. Finally, reiki can be a very spiritual experience. It is important to know that this does not have the same connotation as religious. You can believe in whatever or whomever you choose. Spiritual simply means you may get to know and work with very intimate parts of your subconscious or soul, which all ties into the physical, mental, and emotional aspects of the healing. It is important to do your research on your practitioner since some do incorporate religious qualities into their practice. You can also request the practitioner to leave out some religious parts of the session if it makes you uncomfortable, but most times they are not trying to convert you; they are simply bringing in their beliefs as a way to guide and enhance themselves through the session. 

I could list off all the reasons why I think you should try reiki for days, but I also know that seeing is believing. If you are still skeptical or just want to further your knowledge there will be resources for research studies included at the end of this blog which have done extensive research on reiki practice and all its benefits. However, the best way to see if reiki works for you is to try it out, you don’t have anything to lose and if nothing else it will be a relaxing experience. There will also be a list of local practitioners of reiki listed at the end of this article so you can determine who would be best for you. Maybe try out a few different ones and see how the practices are similar and different. But if there is one thing you take away from this let it be that there is a universal energy which resides in you and all you have to do is awaken it in order to begin healing; as Mikao Usui says, “Reiki is love, love is wholeness, wholeness is balance, balance is well being, well being is freedom from disease.”

Research studies on benefits of reiki:

Reiki Is Better Than Placebo And Has Broad Potential As A Complementary Health Therapy by David E. McManus, PhD from the National Center for Biotechnological Information (2017)

Article link: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5871310/ 

A Large-Scale Effectiveness Trial of Physical and Psychological Health by Natalie L. Dyer, Ann L. Baldwin, and William L. Rand from the Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine 

Article link: https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/acm.2019.0022 

List of local reiki practitioners: 

Taygan Shilhanek - Kenahlih Soul

Strawberry Point, Iowa and Cedar Rapids, Iowa

Various reiki session options

Amanda Shilhanek - Kenahlih Soul

Strawberry Point, Iowa

Only incorporated in massage sessions upon request

Illuminations

Cedar Rapids, Iowa

Many practitioners and options for services

Lisa Hawkins - Wild Woman Healing Hands

Readlyn, Iowa

Reiki practitioner

Marge Banse - Marge the Medium

Strawberry Point, Iowa

Chakra Balancing & Healing

Other therapies offered as well

https://www.margethemedium.com/

[chemicalpink]

Young Gods ❈ KNJ, JJK

❈ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook

❈ Genre: smut, f2l kinda, but also s2l, fantasy!au, fluff if you squint, gods!au, wizard/witch!au

➛ Part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade hosted by @jamaisjoons

❈ Rating: 18+

❈ Wordcount: 4.2k

❈ Warnings: it is jungkook centric, it does have a somewhat heavy plot, double penetrative sex, magical sex, teasing, slightest corruption kink.

❈ Summary: Legend has it that if you were to walk all the way up to Hallasan, and if the land is welcoming enough, you should be able to see the most beautiful lake where it is rumoured to home the most powerful being the world has ever had the pleasure to meet, so when young warlock Jungkook starts having trouble with his magic, who could blame him for travelling all the way there in hopes of finding answers only to be met with the hottest man he’s ever seen. and really,  who could blame him for fostering the biggest crush on him without saying a word for ages? that is, until y/n, a long lost friend of Namjoon shows up. so really, who is he to blame if he lets the two greatest beings in existence use him for their pleasure?

❈A/N: SHE'S HERE. GOD THIS TOOK A WHILE. Please enjoy! ALSO, banner by @jamaisjoons, I do believe the only thing that keep me writing this was the banner lol. Do tell your thoughts on this bad baby, I was heading towards a larger fic but I didn't have time yet magical au is most definitely there for future fics.

The first time Jungkook realised just how powerful he was, he was fifteen years old, although his mother can recall him being around four and being able to master a potion that most common-born non-royal witches could only hope to get mediocre at once trained at their young twenties. Of course, his magic had soon become taboo around the village, having to hide himself behind years of his father’s training, his lineage a bit closer to royalty, not quite, but just enough for his son’s magic to pass as his own. If his customers notice how better his spell jars or potions get once Jungkook turns eighteen, they sure don’t comment on it. Not that they would be able to tell that the family was hiding a master of the magical arts that could rival the country’s most powerful witch in the blink of an eye. Those were just rumours going around, as far as the Jeon’s were concerned.

“Son, I believe it is about time you get some proper practice on your magic” his father mentioned bypassing one Sunday night as they both locked up the store. He turned to hi, somewhat confused.

“Look if this is about Seojun noona’s elixir being more powerful than it usually is I swear it was a rightful mixture, my trial was right beside her actual one and she entered the shop sooner and-”

His dad shakes a hand dismissively at him, rounding the counter into the small storage room, coming back in sight with a leather-bound book in between his hands, calloused fingers roaming the antique-looking pages “I am not quite sure how much truth an old man like your grandfather could hold, but it wouldn’t hurt to try” he turned the yellowing book towards him, fast and almost undescribable scribbles decorating the paper as he squinted down at it, his father handling the energy in it to make the content quite literally come to life, a storytelling spell all too familiar to him from his young age.

“Dad, you know I absolutely love bedtime stories, but I’d say I’m quite a bit too old now for-” before he can even think about finishing the sentence, a mountain comes into view, alive straight from the book’s pages, standing tall and proud dressed in green, almost touching the sky, a magical aura surrounding it, one that he could even feel just by looking at it “What’s that?”

“The old man used to tell me stories about an ancient being, the most powerful of them all, living on top of Hallasan” the pages turn by themselves, the image changing to a faceless man, standing almost as tall and proud as the mountain itself, performing all types of magic, some of them Jungkook himself hadn’t even heard of “Legend says he was outcasted by royalty in fear of revolution, wouldn’t even be alive if it weren’t for he is a child of Earth herself”

“I-I don’t think I’m following”

His father sighs loudly before his magic shuts the book closed, all magic gone on a whim “Jungkook, whatever this man was, if my father was right and he really did exist, you might be like him”

“But-but I was born of both you and mum” he couldn’t quite yet fathom the extension of his own magic, much less think about the probability of being more powerful than any other being that had walked the Earth in millennia. Even if the man was real, would he even be alive still? If he was as powerful as he was presumed to be, would he even take Jungkook under his wing? What if he wasn’t as lucky as the man from the book and word got out and his life was endangered?

“Jungkook just think about it, you might be a child of the Earth”

“What if I don’t want to be” he couldn’t quite face his father, feeling his own heartbreak as the older man deflated. Jungkook knew that perhaps his dad had entertained the idea of his only son being a creature out of a legendary book, could feel how proud it would make him, for Jungkook to be a hero, make history with the power he presumably held within, yet he couldn’t help but feel like a small child again, afraid at the uncertainty that the future could hold. “I- I’m good with just running the shop and helping you and mother out with stuff”

His father sighed before placing a gentle hand on his shoulders, a small act that made him feel even more like a child, one getting subtly scolded by his parents as they prepare him for his inevitable future. “Jungkook-ah, your mother and I- all we really want for you is to live your own life”

His ears perk up, gaze facing forward as he catches his mother standing with her arms crossed over her body, the softest motherly look on her face “And if that means for my baby to go find himself at some faraway place, then so be it” she comes to join his father by his side, both of them bracing each other as the thought of their child growing up simmers down on them. “We just want you to grow up to your full potential Kookie”

.-.-

It had taken quite some convincing for him to completely make up his mind, the negging looks from his father as he helped around the shop, the longing yet scolding gaze his mother held over dinner until he found himself preparing a small bag for the long trip– almost burning inside his mind the map contained in his grandfather’s grimoire from the many times he had read over what he once thought to be a legend out of a children’s storybook.

The trip itself wasn’t as difficult as it was troublesome, having to hike up the highest mountain in the land, the difficult part–if the Jeon’s memories were anything to go by– was having the Hallassan land spirit to like you enough to show itself, even a step further to have the legendary witch to show his home.

For quite some time Jungkook entertained the idea of the immense possibilities on how the wizard could look, every possible image popping up in his head some variation of a wrinkly old man hunched over himself, staff in hand and he couldn’t help but laugh soundly at it, picturing himself getting nagged at by such a figure, perhaps he would end up looking like one of those old scholars that came to his village from time to time. But how wrong was he.

It took him three days, two cold sleepless nights in the woods and running in circles for at least two hours in the nothingness that was the top of the mountain for the valley to show up right where he had started to venture– he could almost hear the forest spirits snickering at him. He really tried to be angry at it, almost went back down just out of spite, yet the clearing before him had him doing a double-take, the space was bright and clear, none of the trees from before on sight, the small dipping in the middle of it leading to a sort of entrance– this was what he came for.

Jungkook had been raised better than what he found himself doing– walking into a stranger’s house uninvited. Was it really uninvited if after knocking for a few minutes the door opened on its own?

He walks inside, small steps, unsure of himself, his past resolve crumbling down completely as he walks further in where he listens to a hushed voice coming from his left, a mop of silvery hair turned away from him, green warm clothes cradling the figure, Jungkook entertains the idea of an old man still, yet not so much hunched over himself if the deep hushed voice and the hair colour was anything to go by. “...Now where did I last see-”

"Hello-"

"Oh! great timing! the pay is where it always is" broad shoulders are still facing him as the man moved around, a couple of won bills on the counter where he had waved his hand dismissively, not even bothering to turn around, for a legendary creature perhaps leaving his home door open was a recurrent thing, what with the whole clearing hidden from the public eye and all.

"Oh I'm not-" he had tried to make himself knows as definitely not the person he was expecting yet the man kept mumbling to himself, apparently in deep thought at whatever it was

""—So then if we are able to move this around we should -" he had started moving around the room, still not facing Jungkook directly, just pointing to places around the spacious room as his free hand busied itself with picking books from the humongous shelf against the wall

"I'm- uh" his hands couldn’t be still, grasping at the bag over his shoulder, knuckles almost white as he clears his throat "I'm not-"

"Did you forget where-" the man turns around and Jungkook feels whatever little poise he had gained leave him in the spot, right in front of him is the most legendary creature in existence, recorded alive for millennia, a god in more ways than one, no old man in sight but the prettiest human he had laid eyes on, fierce sight set on him awkwardly hanging at the entrance as the man keeps blinking at him "uh"

He bows down almost instinctively, 90 degrees, hair falling onto his eyes as he does so "Mister sir- uh keeper of Hallasan"

"You aren't Soobin"

"Uh.. no I'm not"

The man doesn’t even flinch at the information of a stranger setting a foot inside his house, deep voice calm as ever as he asks "How did you even get in?"

"Uh the door was open" he points to the door in a futile attempt for it to not make it seem like he was the weirdo picking locks or something at a magical creature’s home

"No it wasn't" he moves to the door in the most graciously way he has ever seen someone do it, almost gliding across the floor, eyes never leave him except for the brief second where his hand tries the doorknob "huh it was. Weird"

It took the man less than a minute after his initial shock to turn to Jungkook and invite him in, a pair of teacups resting against the table as they seated parallel to each other, him crossing his legs in a nonchalant manner as Jungkook couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat– he certainly never thought he could come this far.

“So what can I do for you, Jeon Jungkook?” if he absolutely preened at the way that his name sounded in the stranger’s mouth, that was certainly something only for him to know.

The words died right on his tongue. There were certainly a lot of things the beautiful man seating across from him could do, none of them necessarily involving what he had initially come for, yet as the words take meaning inside his mind, he seems to short circuit yet again “I uh- you know- you know my name?”

He smiles a big smile, eyes crinkling into crescents, dimples showing and a heat simmering inside Jungkook’s belly “I know a lot of things, Jungkook” he stares off into space “Social skills are rusty, but they come back after getting a good look at you” Jungkook’s eyes must widen at the implication of his words. Could he read minds? Could he take a look into souls? “Just general stuff about you, don’t worry about it”

The man could definitely read minds.

Blink if you’re hearing this. The man blinks and Jungkook feels like fleeing. Wait. Everyone blinks, stupid. Perhaps some other time.

He somehow finds his voice, remembering the lingering question, the sole reason for him to be there “Mister Hallasan keeper, sir”

“Namjoon is fine”

“Mister Namjoon-ssi”

“Namjoon hyung”

Jungkook is sure this time his brain shortcircuits for real, for this complete stranger. Namjoon he corrects himself, to give him permission to call him so affectionately after only a few minutes of knowing him. After technically breaking- not breaking into his home.

Smile if you’re reading my mind. Namjoon smiles, something doesn’t sit right with him, he could very well be reading his mind, or simply smiling out of politeness at the extended silence Jungkook had caused, again. I’m onto you Mister Hallasan Keeper. Namjoon just smiles more fondly at him.

Jungkook goes on explaining his situation, from his rapid magic learning to being unable to wield his magic, to his father even suggesting that he could have been born from the Earth herself, just like Namjoon did all those millennia ago. The blond man restricts himself to listen to Jungkook speak, gaining a serious pose when he drops the reason for his visit, asking him for help. Jungkook’s almost sure he will deny it as he goes on to explain how his last magical apprentice had been there almost sixty years ago, going on about how he is pretty much a loner, no reason more than a brief excuse of being an outcast for practice differences with the village where Jungkook comes from, giving it a few seconds of thought before he accepts to have Jungkook under his wing, going as far as to give him a spare bedroom to sleep in along with the longest set of rules he had ever heard of.

Months with Namjoon look something more or less like this: waking up at 6 am sharp– something Jungkook had never done in his life, the first few times he had woken up later than that, it was almost impossible to know where his teacher had gone to. Have a rundown on the day’s activities and breakfast until 7. Jungkook was in charge of gardening on the 30-minute window of Namjoon harvesting for the spells he was due to make for the day. An hour of light reading– he knew better than to comment on how a thousand pages book was most definitely not light reading, but he did it anyway. He would then shadow Namjoon on whatever mystical task he had to do for the day before finishing up with him running basic high-level training with Namjoon’s guidance in the clearing– Namjoon had said that the Hallasan spirit would keep him safe and sound if he were to screw up, although so far all the spirit and her friends in the forest had done was laugh at his mistakes.

Five months in it, the whole routine came as second nature, he couldn’t even picture a day without Namjoon on it, not that there was anyone else that could pick up on the energy shift within it, Jungkook had learnt a lot from his teacher, not only in the magic department but about him as a person, couldn’t hide the lingering eyes, the curious touches of skin, every bit of information about Namjoon expanding that fondness feeling inside his heart, Namjoon was a man of habit, a powerful one at that, yet all those millennia living couldn’t hide the fact that Jungkook could see right through him, a lonely soul, as powerful as none other, yet so inherently say. Not even the whole power in the universe could keep him away from his own greatest danger: himself.

If you can read minds, kiss me. The kiss never came so perhaps Namjoon could never even read minds in the first place.

Now here’s the thing, Jungkook might be a mess when it comes to magic, but not so much at hiding his feelings, at least the best he could, Namjoon was as intelligent as men come and he had yet to notice. Namjoon’s friend that just happens to show up on a particularly lazy day– his teacher had said his magic tends to run out from time to time and would rather rest it; perhaps not so much.

Jeon Jungkook is a weak man. A weak man for beautiful things, like Namjoon, or you. Who just happened to walk inside Namjoon’s home like you owned the place– could he count it as his home too yet?

He could feel his heart wanting to leap out of him as soon as you introduced yourself, and perhaps he was imagining the way your eyes grazed over his figure before going to tease Namjoon, not that he stopped having heart eyes for the man when you walked in, he had enough heart eyes for the both of you, even if he had to keep them to himself. You were easier to warm up to than Namjoon if it was anything to go by, smoothly falling into conversation after you three had sat down for tea, walking up to Namjoon’s massive library, picking out books from their shelves as you asked him about his upbringings.

“The Jeon family? Oh, dearest, your grandfather was as good as wizards come” his brain cuts short as soon as the words leave your mouth, just how exactly could you have known the old man? The old wizard was presumably thrown out of the royal house for being unfit for ruling over the land. You playfully push your elbow against Namjoon “And I say this while knowing Joonie”

The blond man groans at your teasing.

“You-you knew my grandpa?”

“Yeh, such a shame he decided to be a mortal” Your initial interest seems to diminish as you turn to face the books yet again, a particular red cover catching your attention.

“What”

Jungkook faintly hears Namjoon standing up from his chair to try and get in between his conversation with you, although all he hears seems to come as if the voices were kept under cotton inside his ears “Y/N you’re overwhelming the kid”

For such a calm and collected posture, he had maintained not only while learning with Namjoon but back at home too, hearing such a word coming out of him really tips the glass “I’m not a kid! Why is everyone always treating me like a child!” surely it did seem rather childish to have an outburst like that, yet his mind couldn’t help but reel in all those other times in his stay where Namjoon had dismissed him from helping, saying it was a rather complicated spell you should wait this one out Jungkook. Or something along the lines of when you get stronger. It did seem the type of things one would say to their petulant child.

“Jungkook waits” Namjoon groans as he retreats to his assigned room, you can’t help the softness inside you at the way that strong independent loner Namjoon reacts to his apprentice being pissed off, certainly a first.

“You pissed off the kid” your remark isn’t that much well digested as Namjoon throws a dagger-like glare your way, groaning as he throws his head back against the couch

“Why am I parenting again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you offer him a tight lip smile, you had heard a lot about Jungkook even before you had walked inside the wizard’s home, like a reader of a slow-burning love story, you knew that ‘parenting’ was most definitely not the dynamic in his relationship with the younger, not with the way Namjoon had described the little mannerisms of his apprentice, or the way that he described his figure as the strongest back I’ve ever seen with such a tiny waist when he sent you a letter asking you to visit him.

The thing with the dynamic you had with Namjoon had been one going on for hundreds of years, feeding off of the magic that only such powerful creatures like you and him could conjure, effective yet dependent as when either of you two was in dire need of a boost, you would have to pay him a visit to work your magic. Jungkook hadn’t appeared after his little outburst, probably hidden in his room, taking only a few minutes of Namjoon glancing expectantly at the place where the younger had disappeared before you dragged him towards his room in an all too practised manner.

The whole environment was always on the calm side whenever you two get to it, something along the lines of strictly business, yet an undeniable connection between the two. Namjoon had you against his door, a dimly lit lamp on his desk, strong hands holding you in place at your waist as he leaned down to connect both of your mouths, eyes fluttering shut as he did so. Your hands found themselves tangled in his blond tousled hair in no time as he deepened the kiss, moving the both of you towards the bed as magic started glowing dimly within you two, connecting and feeding off of the spark of the situation, magic so profound and delicate that only immortal beings could hope to master. Namjoon placed himself against his elbows as you straddled his hips, your figure teasingly humping his growing bulge inside his pants as his breath started to become ragged, his own magic reaching forward to yours, just the way his lips chased yours. Yet there was only so much ominous Namjoon could handle. His hands were quick to undress both of you in between hot caresses and messy kisses as both of your bodies seem to move on their own accord, the magic itself doing the most out of the tantric experience, moans slowly but surely filling up the room as Namjoon positioned the tip of his hard cock on your entrance, teasing your folds for a few seconds before you settled on top of him in a familiar manner, sinking down on him as he throws his head back, letting out a groan. You are almost sure Jungkook could hear you both, yet your mind so clouded you wouldn’t have given it a second thought with Namjoon’s cock filling you up so nicely as you moved up and down on his length, that is until out of the corner of your eye you catch the casted shadow outside the dimly lit room.

"Your puppy is outside," You say as you stop moving on him, not quite removing yourself from the situation, yet you feel the magic in the room flickering faintly as if going dormant.

"What" Namjoon’s eyes are surprised as he lets reality sink in, his magic safely sated from the small act

"The kid that has an obvious crush on both you and me?” you state matter of factly as Namjoon’s jaw goes slack “He's watching us from behind the door"

As if on cue, there’s a rustling behind the door, feet rapidly resounding against the floor "No I'm not!"

Namjoon sighs loudly "JK just come in, I know this might seem.." the door opens and you could swear Jungkook’s eyes are about to leave his skull at the image he’s present with "weird"

"incredibly hot," they say at the same time, rendering both of them speechless

"huh kid's horny" you start removing yourself from Namjoon’s cock as your magic starts tingling, now reaching out for the younger "i like it"

"Y/N please"

You gesture by raising your hands as if surrendering, yet you know just how the night had taken a turn, willing to satiate your magic’s needs “He doesn’t like your PG training, let me handle this”

Jungkook is still sporting his Bambi eyes as he feels himself pulled into the room, closing the door softly behind him as he can only stare at you as you make your way towards him, lips ghosting over his “So tell me Jungkookie” your hand trails down to bring him closer to your naked body, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your ass “Just how much are you willing to render of yourself for me and Joon?”

“All of me”

Jeon Jungkook might as well had been an erotic wizard like yourself if by the way he manhandles you and surrenders you to Namjoon like a loyal apprentice would to his master was anything to go by. Namjoon’s stare alone has the young man pliant as he caresses tan skin under his fingers, achingly curious as the youngest takes turns to kiss the eldest and yourself, Namjoon’s fingers playing with his nipples, your own hands working his length to life after your magic had completely undressed him, feeling both your and Namjoon’s magic reaching for Jungkook’s in a way you didn’t know was possible. A few kisses and lingering touches in, minds clouded with lust, kissing noises and moans taking over the space, Jungkook takes no time in positioning you on top of him, back to his chest as his length stretches you deliciously, long fingers playing with your clit as his own legs separate your thighs as if offering you up to his master, Namjoon looking like a man starved as he positions himself against Jungkook’s cock, his tip meeting no resistance as he glides in and nestles next to Jungkook, stretching you like no other time you could fathom, groans and ragged breaths of the men under and above you working you to your own climax, babbled words coming out of the youngest’s lips along with a promise of becoming yet another young god under your spell.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

In Times Past

Character: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bruce Wayne’s life doesn’t exist beyond the fake storylines he performs for the media and citizens of Gotham. Maybe the only person that can change that is someone who knew him before Batman ever even existed. 

Word Count: 8,200+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of sexual harrassment

A/N: As I teased before, this was inspired by this scene from Batman Begins. 

Bruce could sense Alfred’s tension when he walked into the kitchen that morning. The man was not one to hold back his thoughts and feelings. It was both a blessing and a curse. But Bruce sensed it was the latter today.

Before Bruce could even get a sip of coffee in, Alfred tossed the Sunday newspaper in front of him.

On the front page was a photo of Batman, far too high of a resolution for Bruce’s liking. ‘BATMAN: SAVIOR OR MENACE?’ the headline read.

“A little too close for comfort, don’t you think?” Alfred asked with a hint of sass.

However, Bruce controlled his reaction.

“Not the first time I’ve been photographed, Alfred.”

“You’re dancing with the devil, Master Wayne.”

“So, what? You want me to lay down the cape because everyone in America has the ability to take a photo on their cellphone?”

“Of course not,” Alfred retorted. Though Alfred secretly wished every day that Bruce would say goodbye to the Batman. “I just thought perhaps you should be putting a bit more effort into Bruce Wayne’s life if you really want to throw Gotham off your trail.”

Then he tossed another newspaper. This one of Bruce Wayne, the other mask he wore.

‘Bruce Wayne Lights Up the Room at Charity Ball.’

Alfred points to the date…it was 9 months ago. And it was unfortunately the last time Bruce Wayne was in the press.

“You better start creating alibis, Master Wayne, or the dark web will start to putting two and two together…”

Bruce sighed. He knew Alfred was right. But he hated all that went with what he had to do. He’d rather face off with Gotham’s deadliest criminals than go galavanting around the city as the self-absorbed and reckless playboy persona that he’d created.

“There is a birthday party for Eaton Elliot next weekend. Naturally, being old family friends, you received an invitation,” Alfred explained. “Plenty of press will be there to note your attendance. Seems rather convenient."

Bruce recognized the name. It was the older brother of Thomas Elliot, a childhood friend that he slightly lost touch with. He’d see him or his parents at various events, and things were always cordial.

But it didn’t really matter how absent or quiet Bruce was when it came to maintaining such relationships. Everyone forgave such behavior when it came to saving face with the only living member of the Wayne family. Bruce could spit in the faces of Gotham’s elite and they’d probably thank him for it.

“Black tie affair, as always,” Alfred added as he slipped the invitation to Bruce. “Perhaps you could bring a date…”

Bruce glared up at the butler. “Dates make it harder to make a quick and quiet exit, Alfred.”

“Well, maybe that’s the point, Master Wayne.”

————

Just like he was on patrol or working on an op, Bruce had prepared for every single scenario. He made a plan that would be the most effective in the shortest amount of time. He didn’t want to torture himself any longer than absolutely necessary.

When Alfred asked him again if he was planning on bringing a date, Bruce had only replied with a mischievous smirk.

Because he walked in with a girl on each arm.

It wasn’t the classy or gentlemanly thing to do. And that was exactly the point.

Conversations paused, attention was turned, and flashes went off.

Bruce Wayne made his entrance.

He carefully fell into the groove of being the spoiled brat everyone had painted him out to be. It had been awhile since he played the part, but Bruce always found it easy when he was surrounded by these kinds of people.

Bruce made sure to slightly slur his words. He would get too handsy with his dates. He would rudely interrupt people to share his own useless opinion on whatever topic was leading the conversation. He never looked waitstaff in the eye.

But now it was time for the finale.

Bruce whispered a certain suggestion into the ears of his dates.

They shared a look that proved they were both game.

The three of them stumbled into a bathroom – one out in the open that most of the guests would be steered toward.

The kissing began and clothes were quickly shifted.

There was a split moment when Bruce wondered what this would feel like for a man who actually wanted to be in this situation.

The two woman managed unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal echoing in the all-tile bathroom.

But just as they unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants, Bruce’s cellphone rang loudly.

Right on cue.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” Bruce whined. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” his words stumbled out. “But I just have to take this call.”

“Aww. Brucie. You’re no fun,” one of the women fussed.

But Bruce gave off enough dominate energy that they didn’t try to fight him on it.

Hair disheveled, mouth swollen and pink, lipstick stains on his skin and his pants and belt barely put back together, Bruce stumbled out of the bathroom first.

The two women didn’t bother to stay back and spread out their exits, making it very clear what had just happened – or what it looked like just happened.

It didn’t matter that Bruce didn’t actually have sex with them, every woman in Gotham wanted to say they’d shared a bed with Bruce Wayne. His two dates would lie to save face and get street cred. Bruce hated that he knew that, that it was guaranteed.

Dozens of people, who were socializing near the bathroom, stopped what they were doing and watched with judgmental looks. Some men looked jealous. Some women looked disgusted and eyed the two women up and down.

Then there was the flash of a camera.

Bingo.

Bruce wouldn’t have to linger much longer now.  

He played up being somewhat embarrassed.

But just as he put his phone to his ear to take the fake call that Alfred dialed, he saw the last person he expected.

It caused him to do a double take and freeze. 

His focus fell for a moment as they made eye contact.

Why did she have to be here?

Why did she have to be one of his witnesses?

Why did it hurt so much to see how she looked at him as if he were a stranger?

And why did she have to look so god damn beautiful?

Y/F/N Y/L/N.

The Y/L/N family were another one of Gotham’s elite – well, they used to be.

Y/N’s father was once worth billions. But being born into wealth didn’t guarantee intelligence or the skills to properly run the family business. When Bruce and Y/N were in high school, Y/N’s father filed for bankruptcy and confessed that the family was about to lose everything. With the announcement, the press also exposed Mr. Y/L/N’s many lustful affairs.

What came next was a messy and brutal divorce that the media ate up.  

Out of spite, Y/N’s mother remarried her ex-husband’s biggest competitor, maintaining her status and wealth, and making sure she still came out on top. It was the greatest revenge and even Y/N had to give her mother credit for the ingenuity of it all.

Bruce remembered how terrible it all was for Y/N, who was used as a pawn in her parents war against each other.

Having had enough of it, Y/N fled Gotham and chose to live with her eccentric great aunt in London and finished her last year of high school there.

But Y/N didn’t run away from Bruce. They emailed, texted, video chatted, called.

They had always been good friends.

The elites of Gotham always suspected the two would get married. But both Bruce and Y/N pretended to ignore such whisperings.

But when Bruce shifted his life, when he changed his life’s purpose, when he started becoming a vigilante…he stopped taking Y/N’s calls and he stopped returning them.

He told himself it was better that way. He couldn’t handle any distractions. Batman didn’t have time for personal relationships, so neither did Bruce Wayne. But more importantly, Y/N deserved someone who would prioritize her – even just as a friend.

Now Bruce needed to get actually drunk.

Putting the phone back to his ear, he broke eye contact and made a beeline for one of the bars. 

“Did you forget to tell me about the guest list, Alfred?” Bruce muttered evenly to the phone, knowing that Alfred would easily be able to hear his anger and irritation.

“How was I to know who RSVPed yes or no…” Alfred bit back. But he knew exactly who Bruce was looking at.

Bruce frowned as he ended the call abruptly and asked for a whiskey.

“I don’t know, man. She’s not my type,” a man said to his friend.

The two of them were just a foot or two away from Bruce.

“What do you mean ‘not your type’? She’s fucking hot.”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful. But she’s so stiff and uptight. Look, she’s had a resting bitch face all night.”

Bruce’s grip on his face tightened as he easily put together who they were talking about. It was moments like these that Bruce hated being lumped together with men like this.

“You’re an idiot,” the friend said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah? Alright. If you’re so obsessed with her, why don’t you go over and talk to her?”

Bruce saw his window. 

With a sloppy haste, Bruce turned right into the two men and just happened to spill his drink over the man who was about to make a move on Y/N.

Bruce laughed and spilled another drink on the bar as he tried to grab some nearby cocktail napkins. “Gentleman, gentleman…I so dearly apologize.”

Both of them were clearly annoyed, but then realized who he was.  

Bruce gripped them by the shoulders and made sure his eyes were struggling to stay open. “I could be wrong…but it’s possible…that I have been over served.”

He broke out into a chuckle and both men forced their own laughter.

Bruce subtle glanced over to where Y/N had been standing. She’d disappeared.

He’d spared her…for now.

“I think it’s time I go home,” Bruce told them too loudly. “Do me a favor? Wish her congratulations for me?”

The two men looked at one another. “Congratulations? To who?”

Bruce frowned in confusion and looked around. “Isn’t this an engagement party?”

They tried to hide their laughter. “Wayne, this is a birthday party. For Eaton Elliot.”

Bruce’s brows shot up. “A birthday party? Look at that!”

Then he turned around, zigzagged his walk, and threw a wave over his shoulder.

But Bruce wasn’t that lucky.

Because when he made his way to the valet, he found Y/N waiting patiently with her back to him. 

Her fancy dress and gloves seemed to do nothing to help protect her from the cold night. 

Bruce could’ve left. He could’ve left her alone, gone back into the party, and made more of a fool of himself.

But next thing he knew, he was walking forward.  

“Waiting for your car?”

Y/N didn’t turn to him, but it was clear that she heard his question and recognized who it had come from. “I didn’t drive. They’re getting me a cab.”

Bruce nodded slowly even though she wasn’t looking at him.

All charm had left his body now that he had quit the act. It wasn’t going to do any favors for him. He needed to do this on his own, as his real self.

Y/N finally turned with a slight attitude and Bruce was taken aback at how she was even more beautiful up close.

“What are you doing here, Bruce?”

He smirked. “I’m here for the party, of course.” He didn’t want to play the part anymore – not with her. But it was second nature at this point.

Her lips pursed at his response.

“Leaving so soon?” He asked.

Y/N sighed. “Between you and me, I’m only here as a favor to my mother. She wouldn’t get off my back about coming. I tried to leave sooner, but…”

One of the valets hopped up the steps. “I’m sorry, Dr. Y/L/N. It can take awhile to get cabs in the area at this time of night.”

Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile and opened her mouth to say she’d walk home.

“I’ll drive her home,” Bruce spoke before she could. Then he handed the valet his ticket.

Y/N looked at him with confusion and a bit of annoyance. “You really don’t have to do that.”

Bruce just gave her a look that said he absolutely did.

Then Y/N gestured back to the party. “You’re just gonna abandon your dates?”

The way she asked made it clear that Y/N had seen Bruce stumble out of the bathroom with the two of them. He also didn’t miss how she emphasized the plural.

“They’ll be fine,” Bruce told her.

He took a step toward her. “Let me give you a ride, Y/N.”

She took in a deep breath.

She knew she needed the ride. Only an idiot would walk home at this time of night, even if the walk to her apartment was a relatively safe one for Gotham standards.

Y/N just nodded.

A minute later, an Aston Martin drove up.

Bruce offered his arm to Y/N and helped her down the stairs before opening the passenger door for her.

He handed the valet a few bills, not even noticing they were all hundreds.

“Where to?” Bruce asked her.

“Oh, umm…” Y/N quickly gave him her address.

“I know you’ve been gone awhile, but you definitely shouldn’t be walking around the streets of Gotham at night.”

Y/N scoffed. “I’m aware. I moved back awhile ago.”

“Oh. I didn’t know…”

“Yeah. Well, why would you? It’s not like you kept in touch.”

The car filled with silence.

Y/N stared out the passenger window, looking at the skyscraper lights of Gotham

It seemed Y/N had no issue with staying silent for the whole car ride.There was nothing awkward about it for her.

But Bruce knew there were things he needed to say. “I’m sorry.”

This was the last thing Y/N expected and her head whipped to him.

But Bruce kept his eyes on the road. “For disappearing like I did.”

Y/N slowly turned back to the passenger window and said nothing.

Bruce didn’t expect to win her forgiveness. He would have to deal with that. But at least he could apologize.

“Y/N.” Bruce said it ever so quietly, like he was forbidden from speaking it. “This isn’t…I’m not…” Dammit. What was he even trying to accomplish right now? “Back there–”

“Back there?” Y/N interrupted his fumbling. “Oh, you mean the threesome you had in a bathroom at a party?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

Everyone bought his performance. Unfortunately, even Y/N.

Bruce pulled over and Y/N realized they were at her building already.

“You can say whatever makes you feel good, Bruce. Have at it.” Then she threw open the car door.

She put her hand on the handle to help herself out.

But she hesitated.

No. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

Y/N spun around to face Bruce, his blue eyes already waiting for her.

“You used to be kind. Strong and brave. You were better than all of them.”

And for the first time, Bruce really saw the damage he had done.

“Is that boy really gone?” She searched his eyes for the answer. “What is the act and what is the truth?” She whispered. “Huh, Bruce?”

He wanted to tell her.

Bruce had never felt the urge to expose his secret ever before.

But right now? Right now, he wanted to take Y/N back to the manor, drag her down to the cave, and show her all of his secrets – every single one.

But he couldn’t. And he knew that.

Bruce kept his face reserved.

His brow furrowed for just a second as he took Y/N in. All of her. Her eyelashes. Her lips. The styling of her hair. The dip of her neck.

“You became quite the woman, Y/N.” He told her. “And a beautiful one at that.”

Y/N blinked at the statement. Her mind desperately tried to decipher the hidden message in his words, in his actions from the night. But she came up with nothing.

She wanted to say that she knew he was using flattery to divert her attention from what she wanted to know. But it was also clear that he genuinely meant what he said as well. His eyes seeming to be taking in every moment of being in her presence.

If Y/N weren’t so irritated, she probably would’ve been more taken aback by his compliment, feeling vulnerable and almost embarrassed.

There wasn’t any point in pushing.

So Y/N took in a breath. “Thank you for the ride, Bruce.”

He just nodded. Then he watched her walk to the door of her apartment building. He probably lingered a few moments too long, but he couldn’t bring himself to once again put distance between them.

————

Alfred brought down food and an espresso to the cave.

When he looked up, Y/F/N Y/L/N’s face was on the giant screen.

“Working on a case, Master Wayne?” He asked with his usual sarcasm.

Bruce ignored the question. “She attended undergrad in Metropolis and then went to grad school in New York City.”

“Yes, I can see that…considering you have her student records exploited all over the screen,” Alfred responded with a smirk. “She’s been living in Gotham again for a few years, working as a psychiatrist. Even volunteers her services at Arkham – pro bono.”

That caught Bruce’s attention. He turned away from the screen to look at Alfred.

“I found no record of that,” he argued.

“Yes. Well, her mother is rather embarrassed by it. Thinks it gives the family a bad image. She insisted Y/N’s philanthropy was kept secret, even approved the NDAs herself.”

Bruce gave him a look, utterly confused how Alfred had access to such information.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Never underestimate the power of gossip, Master Wayne. Most family secrets cannot be found on the dark corners of the internet.” Then he smirked. “You would gain quite the knowledge if you didn’t turn your nose up at it.”

Bruce smiled at that and turned back to the computer.

“So, I take it that it was good seeing her?” Alfred pressed.

Bruce tensed at the question. “Not entirely. I’m certain that she hates me.”

“Hates you or hates the character you’ve so carefully created?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just Bruce Wayne to her.”

Alfred opened his mouth to say more.

“Leave it, Alfred.” Bruce cut off before he could.

“Well, it appears I’m not the one struggling with leaving it alone, Master Wayne.”

Like many of Gotham’s elites, Alfred had humored the idea that Bruce and Y/N would make a marvelous couple. Like Bruce, Y/N didn’t let money and power sway her morals or damage her good and kind heart.

Alfred had always enjoyed having her over and listening to her and Bruce’s laughter as they caused trouble around the manor and entertained themselves.

But he also saw how her departure effected Bruce, no matter how much the teenager had tried to hide it at the time.

Maybe Alfred was an optimist or a romantic, but he still believed there was a chance for the two of them. But Bruce, quite frankly, would have to get over himself and his stubbornness.

————

Bruce was looking down at the city from yet another rooftop. It had been a quiet night. And he hated nights like that. It was always ended up being the calm before a storm.

“Batman?” Alfred spoke into his comms.

“Yes.”

“It appears there’s been a breakout at Arkham. The media hasn’t caught wind of it yet. But law enforcement has already been dispatched.”

“I’m on my way,” Bruce announced as he slid down a fire escape and made his way to the batmobile that he’d hidden in the shadows of an alley.

“Master Wayne…” Alfred knew to only use codenames on comms.

Bruce tense. “What is it?”

There was hesitation from the butler. “Y/N was scheduled to work a shift there tonight…”

Bruce said nothing. But his foot pressed the gas pedal down further than necessary.

—

Y/N was sitting with a patient when the alarm went off.

The people that worked there called them inmates, and corrected her every time she chose not to use that title.

Harleen Quinzel had been sitting across from Y/N for almost 30 minutes when they were interrupted.

“Oh, fun!” Harley clapped and giggled as the sirens filled their ears.

Harley and Y/N had formed an interesting relationship. The criminal seemed to like her and looked forward to her visits. She never threatened Y/N or tried to manipulate her.

Y/N believes she won her over by addressing her as Dr. Quinzel and often asking her professional opinions on trends and news in their industry. 

Most people there only referred to Harley as if she was property of the Joker, no matter how many times Harley clarified that she wasn’t his anything anymore.

“Does this happen a lot?” Y/N asked her, trying to remain calm.

“Not enough, if ya ask me!” She laughed.

Y/N made the mistake of opening the door and seeing that the majority of the cells had been opened and prisoners were slowly making their way into the hallway.

“Not good,” Y/N muttered.

“Don’t worry, doc. I’ll protect ya! Us gals gotta stick together.” Harley said from behind her shoulder.

Y/N whipped around and looked at her and then at the table she’d been sitting at. “Dr. Quinzel! How did you get out of your restraints?”

“Oh, I’ve always been able to. I just leave ‘em on to be polite.”

Y/N sighed. No one had explained any sort of protocol for such a situation.

“Where the fuck are all the guards?” Y/N asked.

Suddenly the lights shut off.

“Yippy!” Harley cheered.

Y/N turned to her and softly grabbed her shoulder, but gave her an insistent look. “Harley, we need to get somewhere safe.”

Her face did dip to serious for a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me. But you’re right. Not everyone in here appreciates a shrink…”

To her surprise, Harley starts pulling her through the darkness with a purpose.

Y/N had no idea where she was planning on taking her. It seemed all the doors were in lock-down mode, leaving her stranded. If she survived tonight, she’d definitely be bringing that up to the board.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Y/N yelped at the sound.

Someone had either gotten a hold of a gun or security guards were opening fire.

Either way, it caused chaos to erupt.

Suddenly the dark hallways were being filled with a stampede of prisoners. Either they wanted to take down the guard who was shooting or they were getting an adrenaline rush at the concept of their peers attacking their wardens.

The crowd ripped the two women apart. Y/N was shoved up against the wall and her head slammed against the cement.

Y/N swore under her breath from the pain.

“Is that…No, it can’t be…”

A voice called out over the madness.

A chill went up Y/N’s spine. She’d know that voice anywhere.

The Joker.

He wasn’t one of her patients. All researchers and doctors were forbidden to speak with him – especially after what happened with Harley.

But that didn’t stop the Joker from knowing who Y/N was. He whined and whined about feeling left out. “All my pals get to chat with her and all I get to do is look!”

Now, Joker was free from him isolation.

Y/N suspected he was behind the breakout.

And he was going to make a slight detour. A detour that was doing whatever the hell he wanted to with Dr. Y/L/N.

Y/N didn’t even bother hiding her fear. With a new found strength and endurance, she started shoving her way through the mob.

“I hear you and my pumpkin’ pie have gotten close.” Then his smile dropped. “Too close, if ya ask me.”

Y/N ignored him as another prisoner shoved into her shoulder.

“I don’t appreciate you putting ideas in her head!”

Y/N stopped, realizing she had miscalculated her escape and had come to a dead end.

So she slowly turned around to face him, putting her back to the wall. “And what ideas are those?”

“Independence. Self respect. A life beyond crime and incarceration,” he spat.

Y/N realized he had his goonies flanking him, only making her odds that much worse.

“Those aren’t ideas. They’re a reality, a possible future,” she defended.

Joker didn’t like that answer one bit. He threw himself against her, once again slamming Y/N into the wall.

He gripped her chin roughly and smiled with his yellow teeth. “You know…she’s not the only doctor I’d like to break in. And in more ways than one, if you catch my drift,” he giggled.

Then his eyes raked over her body, up and down. His hands slid down her hips and the side of her legs until they got to the hem of her pencil skirt.

Y/N shoved him away with all of her strength. 

But that earned her a slap across the face from him.

Joker gripped her waist tightly pressing her between the wall and his body. “I’m in charge now, doc. And I’ve got a few lessons to teach you.”

His hands grabbed at the buttons of her blouse and with one jerk, he ripped open her her blouse.

But before he could go any further, a few of his lackeys cried out in pain. 

Y/N swore she heard the sound of objects whipping through the darkness. 

She didn’t want to let herself feel any relief. But she hoped Harley had made her way back to her. She’d probably pack an even heavier punch once she realized Y/N needed protecting from her asshole ex.

But when Joker turned around and Y/N followed his gaze, Harley was nowhere to be found.

Yet three men were on the ground, unconscious.

“Well, well, well,” Joker muttered in amusement. “Has Batsy come out to play?”

Next thing Y/N saw was a shadow dropping down out of nowhere and taking out even more of Joker’s men.

Joker seemed to be prepared for such an interruption. Because he grabbed a knife from somewhere hidden on his body and ripped Y/N off the wall. He pressed Y/N’s back to his chest and put the tip of his knife to her throat.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Joker sang.

To Y/N’s shock, Batman stepped into what little light was in the hallway.

“Long time, no see!” Joker screamed so loudly that Y/N flinched. “Did you miss me, Batsy? And you came all this way to see little old me?! How very sweet!”

“Your attempted escape was a failure,” Batman stated. “There’s nowhere for you to go. All the exits are blocked. Arkham has been contained.”

“What a shame! I really felt this one was gonna work!” Joker laughed.

Batman took a step toward him. “It’s over, Joker.”

“You’re probably right,” Joker shrugged. “But I really wanted to have some fun with doc here. So, if you could give us some privacy.”

Batman’s eyes flickered to Y/N’s for a brief moment. “Let her go,” he warned.

“How about…no?” Joker laughed.

Just as Batman was about to make his move, Y/N grabbed the wrist of Joker’s arm that held the knife. She twisted it and dived in such a succinct motion that it was obvious Y/N had been trained.

Whipping herself out of Joker’s grip, she twisted Joker’s arm so roughly and quickly behind his back that he had no choice but to drop his knife from the pain.

Then Y/N was now facing him, and with one swift swing of her leg, she kicked him right in the groan.

Batman saw his opening and rushed forward, cuffing Joker in place.

While Batman neutralized him, Y/N stumbled for the knife that Joker had dropped, still not feeling safe and out of danger.

She looked around, realizing that the police had filtered in and apprehended all the escaped prisoners. Some were already locked back into their cells. Other’s were in handcuffs with guns being pointed at them in warning.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” his voice made her whip back around.

How the hell did Batman know her name?

She squinted wearily at him.

“You can drop the knife,” Batman told her quietly.

Y/N blinked and looked down at her hand, having forgotten that she even grabbed the knife. And she now had a vice-like grip on it.

Her hands were shaking when she dropped the knife and the clatter echoed in the hallway.

She eyed the Joker, not trusting any sort of weapon to be in his vicinity, despite being handcuffed now.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Batman noted, as if he could read her mind and hear the concerns she was thinking.

Police officers surrounded them now.

“Until next time, doc!” Joker sang loudly.

Batman stepped between him and Y/N, shielding her from even being seen by the lunatic.

Y/N eyed him, wondering if he did that on purpose.

“This way,” he directed lowly as he led her out of the hallway.

Y/N was surprised when he escorted her all the way out of the building.

Wasn’t this supposed to be Gotham’s Dark Knight? A disappearing act? An urban legend that some people still didn’t believe in?

When they got outside, there were even more officers. The night was flickering blue and red from all the patrol car’s lights still being on.

Commissioner Gordon was having a field day with Arkham’s warden, yelling at him about lack of protocol and no protection for the volunteers and workers that had gotten caught in the crossfire.

But finally, the reality of what just happened was starting to set in for Y/N. And she realized that her entire body was shaking.

All of a sudden, a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

She looked up to see that Batman had draped it over her. When and where he’d grabbed it, she had no clue. But the warmth was helping, so she didn’t question it.

“Thank you…for saving me back there.”

Was that a smirk on his lips? Was Batman amused by her?

Why was it so comforting when he was a mere stranger?

And his eyes, even when they were surrounded by a cowl and dark paint, they still felt familiar. Y/N had a similar feeling to deja vu.

“Looked like you had it handled,” he replied.

“Oh, I definitely didn’t. But thank god for those self-defense classes.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a second.

“Make sure you get checked out by the paramedics,” he told her gently, but insistent.

It was far too gentle for his Batman alter ego. But she caught how it sounded like it personally mattered to him.

Y/N looked behind her, where the ambulance was.

But when she turned back around, Batman was gone.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was being surrounded by two paramedics and Commissioner Gordon who was careful not to push her by asking too many questions at once.

“Does he always do that?” She asked him in a daze.

“Do what?” Gordon asked.

“Disappear like that?”

Gordon smiled and nodded. “Annoying, isn’t it?”

———

“What’s the gossip of the privileged this week?” Bruce asked Alfred at breakfast a few days after the outbreak.

“Something specific you’re looking for, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked as he poured Bruce a big mug of coffee.

Bruce glared at him, knowing he was playing coy with him.

But he put his pride aside. “How is she doing?”

Alfred took pity on him. “She took some time off work. But seems to be handling it better than expected. Makes quite a bit of sense, doesn’t it? Her being psychiatrist and all.”

Bruce just nodded with a dazed look.

“You could always see for yourself…” Alfred added.

Bruce snapped out of his daze and looked up him questioningly.

“You could go see her,” Alfred confirmed.

“Alfred, don’t you start.”

“Start what, Master Wayne? Pushing you to form any sort of relationship?”

Bruce sighed and got up from the breakfast nook. He didn’t want to fight with him, so he’d made his exit before that happened.

“Batman has plenty of friends,” Alfred stopped him. “But what about Bruce Wayne, hmm? Who are his friends?”

“You saying we’re not friends, Alfred?”

“I’m all you’ve got, Master Wayne. And that’s my point.”

Before the discussion could go on any further, the doorbell rang.

The two men shared a look. 

No one stopped by the manor.

Alfred made his way over.

Bruce figured he’d wait where he was. But the front entrance was too far away from him to overhear any conversation.

A few minutes later, Alfred walked in with an unreadable expression.

“Dr. Y/L/N is here, Master Wayne. She is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

Bruce opened his mouth to tell him to make an excuse and get her to leave. But Alfred was already disappearing, making it clear that he would do no such thing for him.

When Bruce walked into the drawing room, he found Y/N’s back to him as she looked at the family heirlooms and trinkets that were displayed on the shelved.

She was dressed casually, which caught Bruce off guard since he’d only see her in formal wear and professional outfits since their reunion. Her hair was in a messy bun and she didn’t appear to be wearing much makeup, if any at all.

“Hi,” he greeted softly, making her quickly turn around.

“Hi,” she replied.

Bruce stepped further into the room. But neither of them moved to sit in any of the many seats that surrounded them.

“I heard what happened. How are you doing?” He asked.

She nodded and shrugged. “Alright.”

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Bruce admitted.

Y/N ignored his comment and her eyes went around the room. “I missed this place,” she thought aloud. Then her eyes fell back to his, softening. “I missed you.”

Bruce was taken aback from her confession. Seeing as the last time they were together, she was rather blunt about how disgusted and disappointed in him she was.

The energy between them felt so different than last time.

To his surprise, Y/N stepped toward him. And she didn’t stop until she was at a proximity that most would call rather intimate.

There was a voice in the back of Bruce’s mind, urging him to close the last bit of distance and place his lips on hers. But he managed to ignore it. That didn’t stop his heart from beating faster, though.

Y/N stared into his eyes for a few seconds, almost like she was searching for something.

“I have something that belongs to you…”

Bruce waited, not sure what she could possibly have to give him.

But then she pulled out one of his batarangs from her coat pocket, offering it to him.

She had found it embedded in the wall when she had gone back down to grab her personal belongings that night. 

Bruce kept his face composed. “I’m not sure I understand.” 

But he grabbed it from her anyways.

“He’s you,” she whispered. “Or I guess…you’re him.”

Bruce let out a breath, “Y/N…”

She took step away from him. “Don’t lie to me, Bruce.”

So he shut his mouth and said nothing instead.

“I’ve been doing some research. Things started lining up,” Y/N explained. “The first Batman sightings were right around when we stopped talking. The more Batman was in the press, the less Bruce Wayne was. And when he was, it was never positive – like it was meant to be a distraction.”

Her eyes went sad. “I never understood how the boy I used to love could grow into the man I’m so disappointed in. It never made sense.” She paused. “But when you wonder if the man himself is the mask, it all fits.”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce hung his head slightly. “I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you.”

“I’d never share your secret.”

“I know,” he answered instantly.

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. Her eyes welled with tears. “Bruce…living like this has its consequences.”

Bruce said nothing.

She stepped forward and grabbed his hand. “You can’t change the world on your own. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Y/N wasn’t giving him advice. She was offering him something.  

Her trust.

Her secrecy.

Her love.

He shook his head, but gripped her hand tightly. “You would just end up in the shadows with me. And I…I can’t do that to you.”

“I’m stronger than you think,” Y/N defended.

“I’ve always known how strong you are, Y/N.” His jaw tightened at even the thought of being selfish. “You deserve more than what I can give. Gotham will always come first. That’s the sacrifice I made. That’s what is required. I can’t be what you need.”

Y/N studied his face, knowing that there would be no winning with him.

She nodded once, not even slightly hiding her heartbreak and disappointment.

Then she stepped closer and gave him a slow kiss on the cheek.

“It’s not a one time offer, Bruce.”

Bruce couldn’t move a muscle. He was rooted in place.

He heard Y/N have a short conversation with Alfred, then the door closed, and she was gone again.

———

Bruce Wayne was a fool.

Alfred could probably make a list, in seconds, with a hundred reasons why.

But, no, Bruce Wayne was a fool for believing Y/N would give up so easily.

Two weeks later, Y/N was at Wayne Manor again.

Bruce knew something was going on when Alfred didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.

In one of her arms was popcorn seeds, twizzlers, sour patch kids, and chocolate covered pretzels. In the other arm was a case of beer.

Y/N barely said hi to Bruce as Alfred helped her out of her coat and took the things out of her grasp so she was no longer struggling to hold it all.

“I’m here to use your theater,” she announced.

And with that, she walked right past Bruce like she owned the place.

Bruce looked at Alfred and silently asked, ‘What the hell is going on?’

“I believe you have a guest to entertain, Master Wayne.” Then he looked at the items in his hand. “And I believe I have some popcorn to make.”

Bruce still didn’t move.

“You successfully closed yet another case last night, it’s Friday night, and you have a beautiful woman who decided she wants to spend her time with you. Best you don’t keep her waiting, Master Wayne.”

Bruce narrowed his gaze as if telling Alfred they’d discuss this matter at another time.

“I presume you shouldn’t go empty handed,” Alfred added quickly and handed Bruce two beers from the case in his arms.

Bruce chuckled, but started walking away. “I’m surprised you even let this stuff in the house, Alfred.”

When Bruce reached the theater, Y/N had already started a movie.

He watched her a for a moment before she could realize he'd joined her. 

Y/N looked like she belonged there. Even after all this time apart, she just burrowed herself a cozy nook in Bruce’s life.

It was something she had been able to do even when they were kids. When Bruce had his mood swings or his depressive episodes, Y/N didn’t scare. She just found her way to stay at his side without upsetting him further.

Bruce grabbed the seat to the left of hers.

They weren’t really seats, more like small beds. A dozen were placed in the theater.

A couple could easily share one, but Bruce wasn’t planning on even approaching that fine line.

When Bruce sat down, he didn’t look at Y/N. But she gave a shy smile at his joining.

It was a long movie – almost a 3 hour run time.

And Y/N almost made it.

Without only 30 minutes left, Y/N had fallen asleep. Meaning Bruce’s attention was now taken from the movie.

He got up and grabbed one of the many blankets in the trunk hidden in the corner and placed it carefully over her, before silently leaving.

This was not a one time thing.

These type of visits continued.

Bruce knew Y/N and Alfred had to be in cahoots together. 

Y/N seemed to always come to the manor when Bruce needed her most. 

Alfred would force Bruce out of the cave and moments later, the doorbell would be ringing.

On the bad nights, she wouldn’t make him talk. She wouldn’t ask questions or try to make him magically feel better. Sometimes she would talk – mostly about mundane things. She’d tell Bruce about her day or how her neighbor always left baked goods at her door or about the new show she started watching. Sometimes she wouldn’t say anything at all, just sit there silently and make sure he wasn’t alone.

Sometimes she would bring coffee and pastries.

Sometimes Bruce would just walk into the library and find her reading.

Sometimes she would sit and chat with Alfred as if he was the reason she was visiting, and not Bruce.

Bruce couldn’t sleep one night. Nothing specific was causing his insomnia. Just the overall weight of being so many people.

It was 3AM when Y/N texted him to open the door for her because she didn’t want to wake Alfred.

When Bruce did so, Y/N was standing on the other door in sandals and a slightly transparent coverup that barely showed the outline of the bathing suit underneath.

He said nothing, but his face clearly showed that he wanted to know why the hell she was there in the middle of the night.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Y/N told him quietly. Then she shrugged a bit,“I decided I wanted to go for a swim."

Whether she was lying for his benefit, Bruce wasn’t sure. But he followed her to the indoor swimming pool like a sailor would follow a siren.

Without hesitation, Y/N kicked her sandals off and tossed her coverup on the nearest chair. And the next second, she was diving into the pool.

Bruce smirked at her nonchalance, but made sure to hide it when she breached the surface once again.

“Doesn’t your apartment building have its won pool?” He asked.

Y/N smiled and tilted her head back to get her hair wet again and out of her face. “They put too much chlorine in it.”

Bruce crossed his arms, “I see.”

“Coming in?” She asked teasingly.

He shook his head.

“At least keep me company,” she requested.

Bruce glared playfully at her, knowing the game she was playing.

But he finally sighed and nodded.

He was in cotton shorts and a t-shirt. But he decided to sit on the edge of the pool and dip his feet in.

He watched as she swam around, looking as natural in the water as a mermaid. She had always loved swimming as a kid and it appeared not much had changed.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He finally decided to break the silence.

Y/N swam to him and crossed her arms on the edge of the pool to rest and tilted her head to look at him.

She shrugged, “The usual: stress, nightmares, insomnia, too much caffeine.”

 Bruce’s concern spiked instantly. “Nightmares about what?”

She watched him for a moment, seeing how quickly her subtle comment triggered him.

“You’re not the only person who’s seen fucked up things, Bruce.”

An hour later, Y/N asked for a towel.

When she climbed out, she was taken aback by Bruce wrapping it around her shoulders and rubbing her down gently. It was innocent, but subtly intimate.

As their eyes locked for a prolonged time, and he seemed to realize what he’d done accidentally.

Y/N cleared her throat. “I should head home and let you try to get some sleep.”

“You could stay,” he offered. “I mean, we have plenty of bedrooms here,” he quickly added and saved himself a bit.

“Is that…what you want?” Y/N asked slowly.

Bruce knew what she was trying to ask. He didn’t trust himself to answer the way he should, so he didn’t answer.

“Let me drive you home,” he asked as they left the indoor pool and started toward the front entrance.

Y/N ignored the request until they were at the door. She turned to face him with a smug look, “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself. Thank you.”

She hesitated before kissing him on the cheek. “Get some sleep, Bruce.”

————

Months after Y/N’s visits started, Bruce was doing some research for a case on his tablet as he ate dinner.

“Margaret Caulfield’s engagement party is tonight,” Alfred broke the silence of the manor as he took Bruce’s finished plate.

Bruce looked confused on why he was supposed to care.

“Y/N will be there,” Alfred added.

But Bruce still didn’t understand what he was trying to say.

“Master Wayne, when you attend all those sufferable parties, what is the first question people ask you?”

Bruce thought for a moment. “When I plan on settling down, I guess.”

“Now imagine that, but magnified by about 100…and that is what Y/N’s experience is at those same parties. That young woman is one of the brightest people in Gotham and all those people care about is who will put a silly ring on her finger.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, now understanding what Alfred was getting at. “I’m not her boyfriend, Alfred.”

“And you’ve made damn sure of that,” Alfred said a little too harshly.

Bruce watched him carefully.

“Y/N has fought off every one of your attempts to be a miserable recluse.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“And don’t you dare try and tell me her efforts are wasted,” Alfred cut him off. “I’ve seen a change in you. And she has asked for absolutely nothing in return. She’d never ask you to pick her over Batman. Though she bloody well should!”

He wasn’t done.

“You’re not living, Master Wayne. And I won’t apologize for wanting more for you.”

Bruce just sat there and took it.

Alfred took in a breath, calming himself down. “There’s a suit waiting for you in your bedroom. I’ve decided I’m going for a evening walk.”

——————

Y/N didn’t know how many more champagnes she’d have to shrug to start feeling the buzz she so desperately needed.

Not even an hour of being at the party and she’s already been asked 15 times if she was seeing anyone. And when she answered no, half of those ended in them trying to set her up with someone.

As Y/N was trying to think of an excuse to escape, an old family friend approached her – a friend of her grandma’s unfortunately.

“Y/N, dear, let me see those hands!”

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes and snap, but she did as requested.

“No ring yet,” the woman teased, but she was also genuinely disappointed.

“That would be my fault, actually.” A voice said behind Y/N before she felt a hand on her lower back.

“Oh, Mr. Wayne, how nice of you to come!” The woman beamed. “Now, Y/N, why wouldn’t you tell anyone that you and Bruce are an item?”

“My fault again,” Bruce chuckled, “I’ve always enjoyed a good secret.”

Before she could ask more, Bruce smiled politely. “If you could excuse us for a moment.”

He steered Y/N to a private area of the party.

“What are you doing?” Y/N hissed at him. “The press are gonna have a field day. You and I will be every headline tomorrow.”

He smiled at her frantic concern.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m serious!”

Bruce captured her lips, silencing any further panic from her.

Y/N was completely caught off guard, but he wasn’t letting her go so easily. And soon, her hand went to the back of his head and she kissed him back. 

Damn all the people who were probably watching them.

When Bruce finally let her pull away, he smirked at her dazed look and cupped her cheek. 

She matched his smirk.

But then reality set in like a splash of cold water and she frowned.

“Am I – Is this your new cover?” She asked shakily, so scared that the answer was ‘yes.’

She could tolerate being Bruce’s friend for the rest of her life. But she wouldn’t survive being used in such a way. She couldn’t live in a fake relationship with a man she actually loved. She’d rather watch his sloppy persona with girls hanging off of him.

“No cover-up,” he muttered to her. “Just me and you – the real me.”

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

I worked so hard on this 😩  Please let me know your thoughts. 

[letterboxd]

In Focus: The Mummy

Dominic Corry responds on behalf of Letterboxd to an impassioned plea to bump up the average rating of the 1999 version of The Mummy—and asks: where is the next great action adventure coming from?

We recently received the following email regarding the Stephen Sommers blockbuster The Mummy:

To whom it may concern,

I am writing to you on behalf of the nation, if not the entire globe, who frankly deserve better than this after months of suffering with the Covid pandemic.

I was recently made aware that the rating of The Mummy on your platform only stands at 3.3 stars out of five. … This, as I’m sure you’re aware, is simply unacceptable. The Mummy is, as a statement of fact, the greatest film ever made. It is simply fallacious that anyone should claim otherwise, or that the rating should fail to reflect this. This oversight cannot be allowed to stand.

I have my suspicions that this rating has been falsely allocated due to people with personal axes to grind against The Mummy, most likely other directors who are simply jealous that their own artistic oeuvres will never attain the zenith of perfection, nor indeed come close to approaching the quality or the cultural influence of The Mummy. There is, quite frankly, no other explanation. The Mummy is, objectively speaking, a five-star film (… I would argue that it in fact transcends the rating sytem used by us mere mortals). It would only be proper, as a matter of urgency, to remove all fake ratings (i.e. any ratings [below] five stars) and allow The Mummy’s rating to stand, as it should, at five stars, or perhaps to replace the rating altogether with a simple banner which reads “the greatest film of all time, objectively speaking”. I look forward to this grievous error being remedied.

Best, Anwen

Which of course: no, we would never do that. But the vigor Anwen expresses in her letter impressed us (we checked: she’s real, though is mostly a Letterboxd lurker due to a busy day-job in television production, “so finding time to watch anything that isn’t The Mummy is, frankly, impossible… not that there’s ever any need to watch anything else, of course.”).

So Letterboxd put me, Stephen Sommers fan, on the job of paying homage to the last great old-school action-adventure blockbuster, a film that straddles the end of one cinematic era and the beginning of the next one. And also to ask: where’s the next great action adventure coming from?

Brendan Fraser, Rachel Weisz and John Hannah in ‘The Mummy’ (1999).

When you delve into the Letterboxd reviews of The Mummy, it quickly becomes clear how widely beloved the film is, 3.3 average notwithstanding. Of more concern to the less youthful among us is how quaintly it is perceived, as if it harkens back to the dawn of cinema or something. “God, I miss good old-fashioned adventure movies,” bemoans Holly-Beth. “I have so many fond memories of watching this on TV with my family countless times growing up,” recalls Jess. “A childhood classic,” notes Simon.

As alarming as it is to see such wistful nostalgia for what was a cutting-edge, special-effects-laden contemporary popcorn hit, it has been twenty-one years since the film was released, so anyone currently in their early 30s would’ve encountered the film at just the right age for it to imprint deeply in their hearts. This has helped make it a Raiders of the Lost Ark for a specific Letterboxd demographic.

Sommers took plenty of inspiration from the Indiana Jones series for his take on The Mummy (the original 1932 film, also with a 3.3 average, is famously sedate), but for ten-year-olds in 1999, it may have been their only exposure to such pulpy derring-do. And when you consider that popcorn cinema would soon be taken over by interconnected on-screen universes populated by spandex-clad superheroes, the idea that The Mummy is an old-fashioned movie is easier to comprehend.

However, for all its throwbackiness, beholding The Mummy from the perspective of 2020 reveals it to have more to say about the future of cinema than the past. 1999 was a big year for movies, often considered one of the all-time best, but the legacy of The Mummy ties it most directly to two of that year’s other biggest hits: Star Wars: Episode One—The Phantom Menace and The Matrix. These three blockbusters represented a turning point for the biggest technological advancement to hit the cinematic art-form since the introduction of sound: computer-generated imagery, aka CGI. The technique had been widely used from 1989’s The Abyss onwards, and took significant leaps forward with movies such as Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991), Jurassic Park (1993) and Starship Troopers (1997), but the three 1999 films mentioned above signified a move into the era when blockbusters began to be defined by their CGI.

A year before The Mummy, Sommers had creatively utilised CGI in his criminally underrated sci-fi action thriller Deep Rising (another film that deserves a higher average Letterboxd rating, just sayin’), and he took this approach to the next level with The Mummy. While some of the CGI in The Mummy doesn’t hold up as well as the technopunk visuals presented in The Matrix, The Mummy showed how effective the technique could be in an historical setting—the expansiveness of ancient Egypt depicted in the movie is magnificent, and the iconic rendering of Imhotep’s face in the sand storm proved to be an enduringly creepy image. Not to mention those scuttling scarab beetles.

George Lucas wanted to test the boundaries of the technique with his insanely anticipated new Star Wars film after dipping his toe in the digital water with the special editions of the original trilogy. Beyond set expansions and environments, a bunch of big creatures and cool spaceships, his biggest gambit was Jar Jar Binks, a major character rendered entirely through CGI. And we all know how that turned out.

A CGI-enhanced Arnold Vosloo as Imhotep.

Sommers arguably presented a much more effective CGI character in the slowly regenerating resurrected Imhotep. Jar Jar’s design was “bigger” than the actor playing him on set, Ahmed Best. Which is to say, Jar Jar took up more space on screen than Best. But with the zombie-ish Imhotep, Sommers (ably assisted by Industrial Light & Magic, who also worked on the Star Wars films) used CGI to create negative space, an effect impossible to achieve with practical make-up—large parts of the character were missing. It was an indelible visual concept that has been recreated many times since, but Sommers pioneered its usage here, and it contributed greatly to the popcorn horror threat posed by the character.

Sommers, generally an unfairly overlooked master of fun popcorn spectacle (G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra is good, guys), deserves more credit for how he creatively utilized CGI to elevate the storytelling in The Mummy. But CGI isn’t the main reason the film works—it’s a spry, light-on-its-feet adventure that presents an iconic horror property in an entertaining and adventurous new light. And it happens to feature a ridiculously attractive cast all captured just as their pulchritudinous powers were peaking.

Meme-worthy: “My sexual orientation is the cast of ‘The Mummy’ (1999).”

A rising star at the time, Brendan Fraser was mostly known for comedic performances, and although he’d proven himself very capable with his shirt off in George of the Jungle (1997), he wasn’t necessarily at the top of anyone’s list for action-hero roles. But he is superlatively charming as dashing American adventurer Rick O’Connell. His fizzy chemistry with Weisz, playing the brilliant-but-clumsy Egyptologist Evie Carnahan, makes the film a legitimate romantic caper. The role proved to be a breakout for Weisz, then perhaps best known for playing opposite Keanu Reeves in the trouble-plagued action flop Chain Reaction, or for her supporting role in the Liv Tyler vehicle Stealing Beauty.

“90s Brendan Fraser is what Chris Pratt wishes he was,” argues Holly-Beth. “Please come back to us, Brendaddy. We need you.” begs Joshhh. “I’d like to thank Rachel Weisz for playing an integral role in my sexual awakening,” offers Sree.

Then there’s Oded Fehr as Ardeth Bey, a member of the Medjai, a sect dedicated to preventing Imhotep’s tomb from being discovered, and Patricia Velásquez as Anck-su-namun, Imhotep’s cursed lover. Both stupidly good-looking. Heck, Imhotep himself (South African Arnold Vosloo, coming across as Billy Zane’s more rugged brother), is one of the hottest horror villains in the history of cinema.

“Remember when studio movies were sexy?” laments Colin McLaughlin. We do Colin, we do.

Sommers directed a somewhat bloated sequel, The Mummy Returns, in 2001, which featured the cinematic debut of one Dwayne Johnson. His character got a spin-off movie the following year (The Scorpion King), which generated a bunch of DTV sequels of its own, and is now the subject of a Johnson-produced reboot. Brendan Fraser came back for a third film in 2008, the Rob Cohen-directed The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor. Weisz declined to participate, and was replaced by Maria Bello.

Despite all the follow-ups, and the enduring love for the first Sommers film, there has been a sadly significant dearth of movies along these lines in the two decades since it was released. The less said about 2017 reboot The Mummy (which was supposed to kick-off a new Universal Monster shared cinematic universe, and took a contemporary, action-heavy approach to the property), the better.

The Rock in ‘The Mummy Returns’ (2001).

For a long time, adventure films were Hollywood’s bread and butter, but they’re surprisingly thin on the ground these days. So it makes a certain amount of sense that nostalgia for the 1999 The Mummy continues to grow. You could argue that many of the superhero films that dominate multiplexes count as adventure movies, but nobody really sees them that way—they are their own genre.

There are, however, a couple of films on the horizon that could help bring back old-school cinematic adventure. One is the long-planned—and finally actually shot—adaptation of the Uncharted video-game franchise, starring Tom Holland. The games borrow a lot from the Indiana Jones films, and it’ll be interesting to see how much that manifests in the adaptation.

Then there’s Letterboxd favorite David Lowery’s forever-upcoming medieval adventure drama The Green Knight, starring Dev Patel and Alicia Vikander (who herself recently rebooted another video-game icon, Lara Croft). Plus they are still threatening to make another Indiana Jones movie, even if it no longer looks like Steven Spielberg will direct it.

While these are all exciting projects—and notwithstanding the current crisis in the multiplexes—it can’t help but feel like we may never again get a movie quite like The Mummy, with its unlikely combination of eye-popping CGI, old-fashioned adventure tropes and a once-in-a-lifetime ensemble of overflowing hotness. Long may love for it reign on Letterboxd—let’s see if we can’t get that average rating up, the old fashioned way. For Anwen.

Related content

How I Letterboxd with The Mummy fan Eve (“The first film I went out and bought memorabilia for… it was a Mummy action figure that included canopic jars”)

The Mummy (Universal) Collection

Every film featuring the Mummy (not mummies in general)

Follow Dom on Letterboxd

[myrskytuuli]

Please share the receipts about Harry Potter being a colonial fantasy! Reading stuff like that is so interesting 🙈 have a good day

I’m glad you both asked!

This argument will be divided into threemain parts. The subject of magical creatures in the wizarding world, thesubject of humans other than English wizards, and the subject of Harry’scharacterization in the novels. But before I can discuss the novels andRowling’s (probably mostly unintentional) colonial fantasies, we must look atthe background information of those colonial fantasies. To do that, I willoutline and explain certain elements of the 1800-century cultural and politicalsituation, reflected in the literature of the time. (See! This is why you don’tdismiss history as the unnecessary boring subject Rowling!!!!)  

(In this text, I use the word wizard akin tothe universal man, as in mankind. I do this, because Rowling herself does this,referring to unisex groups of witches and wizards as “wizards”.)

Racial thinking in the British empire was heavily influenced by pseudo-scientific theories like phrenology and race classification theory. Humanist sciences like sociology were heavily influenced by “hard sciences” and there was a strong demand to find a scientific justification for the existence of the empire. This justification came with race classification, that was divided into two different equally racist branches of theory. The idea that different human races were actually subspecies inside the human main species, and that these subspecies had evolved to fulfill different functions and behave in different ways. Roughly divided, the Anglo-Saxon subspecies had evolved into a rational thinker and a natural leader, the Asian subspecies into servile and effeminate role, and African subspecies into manual labourer. Now, in order for society to live in perfect harmony, that society has to be built in a way that each human species can follow their natural predilections and follow their species-natural behaviour. 

The other branch of scientific sociology argued that all humans had the same potential for civilization, but that all human societies were also in different evolutionary stages. Human societies were seen to evolve in a neat line, from promiscuity-matriarchy-transitional patriarchy-patriarchy. All human societies therefore started from hunter-gatherer tribes and would eventually turn into enlightened British style modern societies. As the British already had reached the top of the societal evolution, it was also their right and burden to protect the societies that had not yet reached this top evolutionary form. It is very important to remember that while the British empire was filled with straight up hateful and vile racists that saw genocide as a fun past-time, there were equally many people who believed the science of the time and condemned the mistreatment of the empire’s subjects believing that the empire was in truth necessary in order to help their less-evolved human compatriots. 

Another important note to make about the imperial mindset is how these rational leaders were created; in boarding schools. The future leaders of the empire were all sent to a boarding school, somewhere around the age of 10. These schools, rampant with bullying, pressure and straight up rape, were not places that a young boy was supposed to become a scholar or an athlete; his job was to make connections and learn to become charismatic. Doing too well in your subjects was not desirable, as a book-worm is not what the empire needed. Being good at sports was good, but not if you had to sacrifice time to practice too much. Sports and sciences were there to support the student’s growth into a proper English gentleman, not as an educational goal themselves. Debating, public speaking, and aggressive confidence were much more important skills to master for the future overseer of a colony. Your job as a student in, for example Eton, was to network and grow a stiff upper lip. A terrible educational system for sure, which caused damage to the British psyche that people today are still trying to understand; with Boarding School Syndrome and its consequences important when trying to understand the problems in British politics today

How do these facts then relate to Harry Potter? Well, let’s start working our way through from magical creatures. In the Harry Potter universe, the world is filled with creatures with human-sentience that however do not, at least in Britain, mix with the dominant human population. We know that there are house-elves, working as servants, goblins, working as bankers, centaurs, keeping away in their forest, as do merfolk in their lake. Dwarves were employed as cupids (entertainers) in Hogwarts by Lockhart, and there are veelas that work as exotic dancers in the quidditch world cup.

At first glance, you might think that Harry Potter and Dumbledore are on the side of the creatures. Dumbledore is noted for being a great advocate for non-humans when defending their right to exist, as opposed to the more genocide-minded goons at the ministry. Voldemort is happy to employ creatures that he deems “dark” and ignore the rest. At first glance it would even look like the narrative is advocating for tolerance, and it is, but it is not advocating for equalitybetween humans and non-humans.      

The centaurs and the giants have lost their native lands to humans, and have been forced to live in reservations, as most notably pointed out by Dolores Umbridge in Order of the Phoenix. “Ministry of magic permits you certain areas of land.” (p.665) At the same time, the books do not take the time to portray either the giants or the centaurs in particularly sympathetic light from the point of view of our characters and this point of view is never questioned. Centaurs are shown to be violent and even unreasonable towards any humans who would want to have contact with them. Giants are shown to be stupid and hostile, killing themselves into extinction. (Order of the Phoenix p.377) Meanwhile, the races that do mingle amongst wizards all have something to offer to humans who allow them in their society. Goblins are useful to have around because of their hold over the banking industry and their superior metal-working. House-elves are useful as domestic servants. The creatures that wizards label as “dark” are all creatures that do not have any filled role that they can perform for the benefit of humans, (vampires, hags, werewolves), segregated from the wizarding society proper, and are therefore shunned as undesirables. Veelas on the other hand are blatantly fetishized, and they are only shown in two roles in the books. Either as entertainers or as married to wizards. The narrative does not even hint that a veela might have any non-sexual role in the society. It would seem, that all the magical races have either been pushed out of the wizarding community, or they fill some niche purpose in society that the wizards find useful, and that the wizards themselves do not want to perform.This structure of society, built upon the assumption that there will always be creatures fulfilling certain roles for the society, is not questioned by any of our heroes.

Dumbledore is happy to advocate for tolerance, but not inclusion. He is happy to create a dialogue between humans and centaurs- as long as it is not humans who have to make any concessions in their relationship. Same goes for merfolk. Dumbledore advocates for their right to exists in their own segregated patches of land, and in return they will help Dumbledore. Merfolk will allow themselves and their home to be used as obstacles in the tri-wizarding tournament and the centaurs will let wizards traipse through their forest. 

Inside the centaur society, we are supposed to see territorial Bane as the “bad guy” and the meek Firenze, who argues that centaurs should take sides in a human war and make defer even more to the wizards. Firenze eventually accumulates into the human society by becoming a teacher in Hogwarts, but only after he has been banished from the Centaur society. Therefore Firenze becomes completely subserviant to Dumbledore, as his own people do not accept him anymore and Hogwarts is the only place he can go. He does not have the backing of his own community that could allow him to make demands towards his human peers, which makes him a good ally for Dumbledore. Firenze placed the needs of humanity above the needs of his own species and that makes him the ‘reasonable’ centaur.   

The same happens with goblins. Their prioritization of their own people is at every turn equated with them being unpleasant, unreasonable, and impossible to work with, and when Harry Potter shows the bare minimum of respect- acknowledging that goblins have their own legal system that defines ownership of an object differently than a human would, it is framed as the greatest height of progressiveness that anyone could ever show towards a goblin, instead of the bare minimum. Never-mind the fact that the books explicitly mention that goblins are denied the use of a wand by the dominant human government, and actively have to fight for the rights they have even now, which is neither an interest nor a concern to any of our heroes. 

Note of interest is also that most non-humans taking action against the status quo are antagonists. There are no creatures in the order of the phoenix fighting against the dark lord, (Remus Lupin identifies as a human with an unfortunate condition.) but there are several under the command of Voldemort. (Order of the Phoenix p.88) The most positive attitude towards non-humans comes from the heroes who show tolerance towards non-humans, but who also do not try to reach any deeper understanding about non-human experiences in the wizarding society.

The house-elves are the most blatant piece of yikes when it comes to the issue of creatures. The enslavement of house elves is explained away as a natural order of the world.  At the end the series, even the protagonist Harry Potter accepts this natural order and becomes himself a master of the house elf Kreacher (Half Blood Prince p.55). Harry’s slave-master position is accepted,because we trust Harry to treat his slaves decently, there is never anyquestion what the condition of being a slave-master can psychologically do tothe master, or that slavery as an institution is too immoral to accept, nomatter the conditions. The reader is shown that the elves are not capable oftaking care of themselves without a master by examples of Dobby and Winky, the only freed elves shown in the books. Winky, after being freed, becomes an alcoholic. (Goblet of Fire, p.564) Dobby, while enjoying freedom, would be unable to support himself without the help of benevolent Dumbledore, to whom Dobby works in the same way as the other slaves in the castle, even if he is namely free. (Goblet of Fire p.400) (Both alcoholism and “frivolity” were anti-abolitionist talking points in the southern states in the antebellum era). Theimplication is that some races are simply born subservient, and the morally decent thing to do is to keep them in slavery but treat them kindly. 

Hermione Granger, who in the books argues that slavery as an institution is by itself something that cannot be accepted, is presented with her views as ridiculous and misguided. On the other hand, those who argue for the institution of slavery appear as rational and reasonable. There is no way for anyone to think of her S.P.E.W badges as anything but childish and stupid, a phase for  Hermione to grow out of. In Chamber of Secrets, the readers do see Harry freeing the house elf Dobby, after Dobby has personally helped Harry. However, the implication is that Dobby suffered from an unfit master, not from the slavery itself, and that his freedom came as boon after he had done a personal favour to Harry Potter. In the world of Harry Potter, slaves are happy to be slaves, as long as their masters are decent masters.

But if you stop and think of all this, it should not be rationally possible for a society like this to exist. If the giants truly are so stupid and violent that they are accidentally killing themselves to extinction, they should also not be sentient enough for humans to breed (and even create emotional bonds, as Hagrid’s family) with them. If these creatures have managed to create a society, it should not be possible for them to be unable to “understand complicated matters” or “kill anyone who uses too big words” (Order of the phoenix, 429).    

 Same with the centaurs. Segregating an entire culture to a small reservation is not pretty, and it does not happen peacefully. Still there is never any indication that the wizards were actively doing anything to keep the centaurs in their reservation. Even though, overtly and less-overtly violent actions and policies are in reality always working to keep indigenous populations at check. No creature segregated in their little reservation wants to leave that reservation, choosing to rather waste away amongst their own kind than pushing for their species to either be integrated into the wizarding world, or gaining more land from the wizards. And assuming that the centaur population is too small and weak to do anything but accept their reservation, the heroes do not see anything wrong with this arrangement either. The mythical tale of the noble savage who quietly goes into the good night is real in the wizarding world.   

Those creatures who do live and work alongside wizards are equally content with their narrow roles. No goblin wants to work anywhere else expect the bank, no house-elf wants to open a business, no veela wants to study in Hogwarts. Half-breeds might be allowed in, if the headmaster is eccentric enough, and as long as they are able to “pass” as humans. The fact that their creature parents would never have that change is not even acknowledged as the tragedy that it is. It is easy for the heroes to appear as progressive, when the only thing the creatures want is to be allowed to exist in their pre-ordained roles and be treated with the most basic decency.            

We don’t know what Dumbledore’s answer would be if a young goblin wanted to apply as a student at Hogwarts. We don’t know what any of our heroes’ reactions would have been, if the centaurs demanded compensations for Hogwarts’ rights to use the Forbidden Forest. Or if Dobby would have started campaigning alongside Hermione for abolition. We don’t know, because the wizarding world is in perfect harmony, as long as the creatures are allowed to exist peacefully in their roles, without corrupt, dark wizards abusing them needlessly.

What about humans then. Not all humans are created equal either. We don’t really see about the state of the wizarding world outside of Britain, but we are given the implication that the political situation in Britain is equal to the fate of the world. Harry Potter is not fighting for a political cause in UK, he is saving the world. British politics are world politics. The international wizards we do see, are also almost as much stereotyped as the creatures are. The French boys and girls from Beauxabatons are vain and frilly, while the girls and boys from Durmstrang are brutish and coarse. And in the European stage, UK and France gets their own wizarding population, while the eastern Europe is apparently lumped together in a way that makes you suspect that the Soviet Union never fell in the magical world. (considering when Rowling was creating these stories, that is not impossible. Rowling started writing Philosopher’s stone a year before the Soviet Union was dissolved). In the world politics, these three are the only ones important enough to be included in the tri-wizarding tournament, (tournament that the British dominate easily), and therefore clearly hold the political cards of magical Europe. What we do know is that British wizards have no trouble finding work overseas, while we do not see any foreigners living or working in the British wizarding world. Britain’s importance as the centre stage of magical world politics is simply a given fact of the world.

(Note that I have decided to omit all nonsense that Rowling has added to Pottermore in her effort to world-build but rest assured that it makes the situation simply much much worse.)  

There is also the clean divide between muggles and wizards. The wizards once again are honour-bound from their superior position to protect the muggles. The books make it clear that it was not for the safety of the wizards that the worlds were divided. It was simply that muggles in their ignorance kept burning other muggles during the witch-hunting times. The idea that muggles, if confronted with an existential threat like the death-eaters and their genocidal tendencies, were to win the fight, is not even floated as an idea. The moral implications ofkeeping the muggle world ignorant about a part of UK population that wants to kill them, and has succeeded in several terrorist attacks against the commonpopulation, is not discussed at all. The wizards simply have the right to sacrifice the lives of muggles in exchange of keeping their society hidden from the “common folk”. The wizards who do show any interest in muggles, do it in the most condescending way possible. Arthur Weasley, who has spent years working in the ministry of muggle-affairs, cannot pronounce the word electricity or know what a rubber duck is. How exactly does someone work for muggle-affairs if one is completely ignorant of said affairs? Why are muggleborn’s not automatically working for muggle-affairs? How is it, that muggleborns all simply choose to embrace the wizarding culture without there being any underground muggleborn culture running counter the pureblood establishment? Hermione Granger wants to be seen as one of the witches, not as someone whose cultural knowledge of muggles could in on itself be a strength. Rowling really wants you to believe that the British wizarding culture is naturally so desirable that no counter-cultures have born inside it, or that there ever could be any other problem expect that muggleborns are restricted from accumulating into it.

And then we come to Harry. Our hero. At first look, he appears to be the underdog fighting against the unjust establishment of the wizarding world. However, if one takes a closer look at the story, Harry Potter is not an underdog at all. In the beginning of the story, he acquires a great inheritance from his exceedingly wealthy parents. (Philosopher’s Stone p.85) In every other character exceeding wealth seems to be a negative trait, but curiously Harry’s status as an heir to a fortune is never properly addressed in relation to Harry’s moral character. Harry is also a son of esteemed and powerful magical parents, both highly regarded in the wizarding society. From his father’s side, Harry can claim a connection to an old pureblood house, giving him a claim to the pureblood wizarding establishment. Both the wealth and the bloodline inherited from the Potter family guarantees a place in the upper class of the magical society for young Harry. Even the extremely racist Draco Malfoy in the first book seems eager to make friends with Harry. (Philosopher’s Stone p.120). It is only Voldemort who has robbed him of his natural heritage and privileges and forced him into hiding with his brutish and cruel (muggle) relatives. 

The story of Harry Potter is not of someone who fights for acceptance, but of someone who returns to his rightful place on top of the wizarding society. characters who do not naturally have this privilege, gain prestige by being helpful and loyal to Harry. It is a deliberate choice by Rowling to make Harry a heir to an prestigious family fighting for the rights of muggleborns and those lower than him in the wizarding societal ladder. He is the archetypical English gentleman hero, because he has both the privilege and the proper character to carry that privilege. Voldemort, Malfoy, and other “dark-siders” from the pureblood establishment have abused this privilege and are therefore unworthy of it.

Another important part of Harry’s character is that all his powers and abilities that help him champion against Voldemort are either inherited or inherent. Harry does no need to labour for his victory. His mother gives him “blood-protection”, his father and mentors give him magical items to help him on his journey, and he simply has skills that others don’t. His flying abilities making themselves known the first time he hops on a broom, and his inexplicable talent to resist the imperio-curse is never explained expect with “a strong will”. He even learns the patronus, a spell that for adult characters is explained as a very rare and impressive talent, in a matter of days. What he is good at, he doesn’t need to work for, and what he is not good at, he doesn’t need to improve on. If there is something he doesn’t have the innate talent for, he has friends who will do it for him. When Snape claimed that all of Harry’s successes were due to luck and more talented friends…he wasn’t wrong. And the kicker is, that that’s the point. Harry’s main strength is the fact that he is good at networking and having a brave heart. That is the ideal that thousands of young Englishmen tried to mould themselves into during the imperial days. Harry doesn’t need to be the “smartest wizard of his age”, he needs to be charismatic enough that others will follow him into the battle. He doesn’t need to be shrewd, or ambitious, or smart, or even kind, he needs to know how to apply his inheritance correctly and how to manage those in the lower position than him, in order to return the status quo of the wizarding world to what it was before Voldemort. 

When both Harry’s already existing place in the magical society, and the question of how the books treat the magical creatures are considered, the main conflict in the book seems to be reduced to an inner struggle between the higher classes of wizarding society. Voldemort and the death eaters are evil because they misuse their power over the lower classes, and because they discriminate against other witches and wizards. Therefore, it is the duty of Dumbledore and Harry Potter to return the wizarding world to its former and rightful order. The narrative supports the idea that now that the proper people, the naturally noble-minded heroes, are once again in power all the social issues of the wizarding world will disappear. Those on the top of the social pyramid will treat those under them with tolerance, and those at the base of the pyramid will stick to their place.In other words, the world of Harry Potter has fulfilled the colonialist fantasy of the British empire, where everybody has their place in society, and the inferior races truly are without ambitions or nuances.     

The wizarding world has the structures that the British empire had, but none of the problems that come with those structures. In the end, the wizarding world returns to peace. “all was well.” The house-elves are given laws that punishes a master that mistreats their slave. The goblins continue in their segregation. The centaurs and merfolk are given a promise of no genocide. The British muggleborns are promised a place in the dominant society, as long as they perfectly emulate their pureblood peers and don’t bring muggle culture (or values) with them. The superiority of British wizardingkind has been proven, and they benevolently reside over their less evolved subjects, making sure that they are allowed to fulfill their roles in the society, as they naturally desire, in peace. There are no troublesome creature-rights activists causing havoc on streets. There are no muggleborns who would wish to side with muggles against the wizards. There is no empire, there is only the natural order of things.  

Bibliography

https://www.academia.edu/26667941/Crowning_the_King_Harry_Potter_and_the_Construction_of_Authority

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https://until-darwin.blogspot.com/2012/09/darwin-slavery-species-question.html

https://www.britannica.com/topic/race-human/Scientific-classifications-of-race

https://www.vanityfair.com/news/2008/11/hitchens200811

https://newrepublic.com/article/151232/britains-boarding-school-problem

https://www.theguardian.com/education/2014/jun/09/boarding-schools-bad-leaders-politicians-bullies-bumblers

https://anotherwasteland.blogspot.com/2008/05/robinson-crusoe-colonialism-and.html

https://neoenglish.wordpress.com/2010/10/17/colonialism-in-victorian-literature/

https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4h3141t.html

[maneskinrollercoaster]

~ You Don’t Even Have Fucking Balls To Choose The One You Love ~

Pairing: Damiano David x Victoria De Angelis

Word count: 1754

Warnings: a bit of swearing and a slight angst but apart from that none

Summary: One little kiss leads to something unexpected.

It all started with an innocent kiss. They’ve just won Eurovision and all the excitement and adrenaline was too much. His soft lips met hers harshly and she wrapped her hands around his neck. Both surprised pulled away from each other and started laughing, not thinking much of what just happened between them and quickly ran to others, jumping from happiness.

Their lips met again a month later after they all went off the stage in Poland, both sweaty and exited from their performance, blood rushing in their veins. No one was surprised really, it was well known that between these two there was always a spark of chemistry that none of them could deny. Little did they know that this spark will evolve in something much more than just innocent kisses.

One night he entered her room silently, in a rush of anxiety and woke her up gently, trying not to scare her.

What’s going on, Damiano? She said and sat on the bed looking a him with a worried expression.

He looked pale, without any colors on his face, eyes watery and his hands shaking.

I’m scared, Vic. What if all this is too good to be true? What if everything we’re doing is gonna end in a blink of an eye? He said and Vic not saying anything pulled him closer in a warm hug, wrapping her arms around his neck.

That night he stayed in her bed and both of them, not really knowing why, got lost in each other, trying hard for everyone not to hear their moans and fell asleep with their naked bodies tied together in a warm hug.

It kept on happening more often during the tour. In a rush of adrenaline they would lock themselves in a fitting room behind the stage and have sex to make all the stress vanish.

Fans saw something was happening and the two of them knew that their unusual relationship is being slowly revealed to the world. All the stage glances, naked pool pictures and all the interactions they had with each other suddenly became visible for the internet. They didn’t care though, still enjoying each other’s company and support.

The truth was, they’ve always been the closest with each other. They just clicked from the beginning and enjoyed spending time together, even after recording. They often stayed up all night talking about their favorite bands, singing their favorite songs or just chatting about everything and nothing. And because their chemistry was so good and their friendship so strong, they didn’t see anything bad in their small sexual secret.

Not until Damiano’s girlfriend started having doubts about his loyalty. Don’t get her wrong though, Giorgia loved Damiano and she would never even think of thinking of the idea of Damiano having an affair. But all the instagram edits, all the YouTube videos and all the ambiguous pictures of him and Victoria, made her have second thoughts, whether Damiano is truly dedicated to her and only her.

So when she brought it up, Damiano only then realized, what he was doing. He never was the one to cheat but suddenly he found himself cheating on Giorgia with Vic, which was never meant to happen. After all, they’ve been together for four years and he never wanted to hurt her, let alone cheat on her.

So he lied.

Nothing is between us, amore. Are you crazy? You know that this whole chemistry thing is just for show. Also it’s hard not to suspect anything when we’re trying to keep our relationship private. Damiano said and quickly wrapped his arms around Giorgia to assure her of his lie.

She loved him so she believed him. But she wasn’t stupid though and noticed something was different about Damiano. Since winning Eurovision they haven’t been intimate with each other as they used to be before. All they really did was kissing and cuddling but sex almost vanished.

So he lied again.

I’m so sorry, babe. I’m so stressed with all the tour and recording the new album is taking a lot of time. I didn’t realize that I’ve grown distant with you. Let me fix that. He said and kissed her gently.

That night, Damiano tried to cover up his lies and cheating, with sex, which by the way wasn’t all that great for him. The truth was, all he thought about was Victoria and their little secret.

Time passed by and both of them grew closer and closer with each other, slowly catching feelings and making it obvious that something is in the air. It was harder for them to cover it up so around boys they’ve acted as if they were together. Ethan and Thomas didn’t mind, as much as they felt bad for Giorgia, they loved seeing Damiano and Victoria so happy.

The whole band with some of their friends went on a vacation to Bali. Beautiful views, crystal clear water, amazing weather, and everything would be perfect if not the fact that Damiano brought Giorgia with him. He couldn’t do anything about it though, he didn’t want her to suspect anything and it would look stupid if everyone took their closest people and he wouldn’t take his girlfriend.

Victoria couldn’t stand it. All the kisses, all the hugs and their constant laughter. Damiano looked completely lost in Giorgia and Vic’s heart ached at the sight of them having so much fun together. She wanted to be on her place after all and that’s when she realized that she’s head over heels in love with Damiano.

They couldn’t avoid it - you would say. But Victoria really thought at first that their relationship was strictly sexual and everything else between them was just a friendly love. Turns out she was wrong and her feelings for him were strong and sincere.

She told him then.

I can’t hide it anymore Dami. I can’t hide that I’m in love with you. She said and he looked at her with surprised expression.

Damiano knew his feelings and he knew he felt the same, but admitting it to Victoria and more importantly, to himself, hit him harder than he thought it would. He just then realized that he has to choose between staying with Giorgia and hurting Vic, which would possibly cause making things worse for the band, or staying with Victoria and hurting Giorgia, who after all, always been there for him for the past four years. Pretending wasn’t an option anymore.

I love you, Vic. And I don’t know how, but we will get through this together. He said and hugged her the tightest he could, afraid that she will slip through his fingers sooner than he thought.

Days went by and their new album Teatro D’Ira vol 2 was ready to be released. Many songs were about Victoria and her being more and more involved in their relationship, couldn’t stand a fact that Damiano would spend every night at Giorgia’s place. She couldn’t even begin to imagine him telling her that the songs are about her, lying in her face.

So one day she asked him.

Did you tell her, Dami? Victoria asked, entering the studio where Damiano was preparing instruments.

He promised Victoria that he will talk to Giorgia and end things with her as soon as it’s possible. He tried to avoid it, buying Victoria little gifts and filling her ears with sweet words and I love you’s but he knew that she isn’t dumb and that sooner or later she will demand explanations.

Tell who about what? He played dumb and he couldn’t believe that now he’s lying to Vic too.

Her cheeks turned red from anger and her eyes wide opened, gave him a death stare, not wanting to believe his confusion.

Are you kidding? Still nothing, he looked at her with a fake surprise on his face. Giorgia? About us? Don’t play stupid Damiano, you know exactly what I’m talking about! She raised her voice and Damiano gave up.

I didn’t. I’m sorry. You need to give me some more time. She just got out of the hospital, I can’t just go and slap her in the face with the fact that i cheated on her.

Her going out of the hospital is not an excuse! You were supposed to tell her a long time ago and yet you didn’t. Why? Victoria didn’t care if they will argue at this point, she wanted to get the answers and she wasn’t leaving anywhere without them.

Damiano didn’t know what to say. He was a coward, and after a long time he finally admitted it. He was too scared to tell Giorgia, he didn’t want to hurt her and for the first time in his life, he didn’t have the courage to tell someone how he really feels.

You know what, forget it. You don’t even have fucking balls to choose the one you love! Victoria shouted and stormed out of the studio, shutting the door the loudest she could.

She wasn’t the one to get hurt ever but she’s really fallen for Damiano and over the time their bond got stronger. She really felt like he was her soulmate, someone she was always looking for. But now she was crying over a guy for the first time in her life which she promised herself that’s never going to happen.

The tension between them was obvious. Thomas and Ethan could see that something is wrong, but not wanting to make things worse, they let them be. The concerts were less charismatic and their energy wasn’t showing that much, which made fans suspect too.

But the thing that happened next blew everyone away.

I wanna be your slave I wanna be your master. Damiano whispered to the microphone and quickly walked up to Victoria, pulling her in for a passionate kiss.

The crowd went crazy, they were screaming, crying and taking pictures, throwing things on the stage like flowers and clothes but Victoria and Damiano forgot about everyone around. It was only them, kissing on the stage and millions of butterflies flying in their stomachs. The feeling was indescribable, finally being able to do it in front of the fans, but Vic felt even more special because in that moment she knew that Damiano stated his feelings towards her.

It took me a while but the truth is that I would always choose you. He said, leaning his forehead against hers and they both smiled, enjoying each other’s presence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello everyone!

Just a little disclaimer, this one shot is not by any means meant to send hate towards Giorgia or anything like that. It’s also not meant to harass Victoria and Damiano, it’s a pure imagination for all those who like to see some Damoria content.

I hope you enjoyed reading! ❤️

Tag list: [ @teenyweenynightghost , @superchrystaldrug , @unitersmoonshine ]

[translations-by-aiimee]

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 1

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

TW for this chapter: Mentions of suicide

I wanted to provide some ~variety~ so I'm doing another novel. I'll give a warning that the first few chapters are kind of intense and I'll keep the TWs updated as they come and put a TL;DR at the end if there's anything too graphic.

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 1 - The Beauty in Red

Song Qingshi is dead.

After his death, he came to in a strange space, and in the space, there was a sphere randomly flashing red.

The sphere said that he is a book-transmigrating system from a high-dimensional world. There was a xiania novel called "The Exceptional Furnace", which was about to be plagued by readers' resentment due to the tragic fate of the protagonist, causing problems in that world. It needed to find someone who is familiar with the tropes of these novels and someone with the power to change and repair the body and mind of the protagonist, and fulfill the readers' wishes - change the fate of the protagonist, dote on him, and let him live the happiest and most fulfilling life □□ □□□□□

The information in the system came intermittently, and in the □□ there were incomprehensible, alien-like characters.

Song Qingshi suffered from Lou Gehrig's Disease during his lifetime and devoted himself to studying medicine to try and save himself. He was a medical student who studied and experimented frantically every day and never wasted time reading novels.

In terms of emotions, he is even more obtuse. Although he is very handsome and has an attractive and obedient personality, due to his physical problems, even the school bully treated him like a precious thing. With all the excessive loving care and sympathy, not only did he never have a crush, but he also suffered from a slight fear of talking to strangers.

This was the worst soul for this task.

Song Qingshi didn't know how he was picked up by the system. He had read Marxist philosophy novels in vain. But from his messy information and analysis from the system's explanation, as long as he accepts the task, the system will send him to the virtual book world, give him a healthy body, and he will come back to life.

After Song Qingshi realized this, he was ecstatic. A healthy body is was his biggest desire. Not to mention the fact that the system only asked that he take care of someone. Even if the system had asked him to swim through seas of fire, he would have accepted still.

Because of this, he ignored his conscience, structured his response, and lied for the first time in his life: "I have read tens of thousands of books that I have memorized. I have extensive medical and nursing knowledge, have taken a psychology course as an elective, and I could solve all the physical and mental sufferings of the protagonist. And love. . . I have lots of experience with love, I know how to communicate, absolutely, I. . . can definitely accomplish these tasks!"

If there was any blood that could exist in a soul, he would definitely be flushed.

The system didn't notice his lies. It registered the identity of the task performer, and sent a series of garbled commands, mixed with all kinds of chaotic and disorderly information into Song Qingshi's mind, sending waves of discomfort through his soul.

Suddenly, the system let out a sharp alarm and the data transmission was cut off. Song Qingshi's vision went black, and his soul drifted away towards a bright white light. . .

. . .

When Song Qingshi woke up, he found himself lying in the woods, surrounded by the faint fragrance of various herbs. He squinted his eyes and looked towards the dazzling blue sky. There was a gorgeous golden luan bird dragging its long tail feathers, letting out a loud caw as it flew past, with countless immortal birds following it.

Was this the world from the novel?

It seemed too real. . .

A soft breeze blew across the forest, shaking off the dew on the trees. The dew fell onto his pale fingertips, bringing a slightly cool feeling. Then, all the memories of the original body flooded into his mind like a tidal wave, trying to merge with his own soul - this body was also called Song Qingshi, the master of the Medicine King's Valley, and the most talented medical immortal and pharmaceutical expert in the immortal world. His medical skills could heal the dead and revive bones, and the spirit pills he cultivates were considered treasures by every cultivator.

However, the original body's temperament was extremely troubling. He rarely left Medicine King's Valley at all, never made friends, and had no interest in matters other than medicine and alchemy. When a patient sought him out, he only looks at their temperament and never asked their identity. When he was in a good mood, he treated mortal beggars. When he was in a bad mood, regardless of the identity of the visitor, he would turn them into flower fertilizer for his garden. He often used living people to test medicines. Cruel, but because of his Nascent Soul cultivation base and various skills with poisons, the immortal sects didn't dare provoke him easily, only secretly calling him troubling behind his back.

Cultivators in the immortal world had long life spans, and the knowledge and memory of this original body had for its hundreds of years of cultivation had not arrived yet. Various data fragments of the system rushed in frantically, with countless garbled codes, tearing the original body's memory into a mess, leaving Song Qingshi at a loss. It took a long time before he managed to figure out his current situation.

This was Golden Phoenix Mountain Manor, the most luxurious place in the immortal world, where there are rare and exotic animals and countless immortals and beautiful concubines.

The owner, Jin FeiRen, was also a great Nascent cultivator. He was a true romantic, an excessive spender, and had friends from both the immortal and demonic cultivation world. He was a well-known figure.

The original body had always been cold, obsessed with his work, and never touched either men and women. Today's arrival was accidental. The Manor Lord Jin wanted to give him Ten Thousand Year Snow Ginseng to exchange a batch of medicinal pills for him. The original body had recently been lacking Snow Ginseng to make his medicines, so he agreed to the deal.

Since Snow Ginseng grows in the secret realm of the snow mountains of the Jin family. If you wanted to get the ones with the best medicinal properties, you needed to pick them at night and preserve it with a special refining method. Therefore, the original body came here to pick it personally, and Song Qingshi somehow ended up here.

Then, Song Qingshi was sent here by the system. . .

Where was the protagonist? What does he look like?

Song Qingshi wanted to ask the system to ask for more information, but the system seemed to disappear. The materials it sent not only contained no plot points from the novel, but also very little character information. There were garbled characters everywhere, even though the protagonist hadn't been introduced yet. Song Qingshi got dizzy going through all this information before he found some descriptions in the copywriting introduction: the best physique, unmatched beauty shou X□□□□□ gong, procured by trickery, sadomasochistic, □□, □□, □□ There were only three texts that could be read clearly: Banquet of Bea□□□.

. . .

If this were someone who often read these types of novels, they would immediately recognize that this situation was problematic.

Song Qingshi, however, didn't recognize any of this as problematic. He believed that this was a test given by the system to assess his reasoning skills and ability to do things. Song Qingshi was very accustomed to being assessed like this. Usually, when he and his teacher started developing a new drug, he often didn't have any prior results in his hand. It required some experimentation and to experience many errors and difficulties in order to reach the final result. Most of the time, that result was not what they were hoping for.

Many pharmaceutical companies invest billions or even tens of billions in drug research. Scholars have spent decades trying, right until their hair turned grey, only to fail during their clinical trials.

Therefore, every drug researcher is a strong man who has experienced many battles, repeated defeats and never-ending setbacks.

These questions from Teacher System were not difficult!

Scholar-Tryant Song expressed no fear! He will definitely find the correct answer and live up to the teacher's expectations of him!

Song Qingshi thought about the information he was given, determined the goal of the protagonist, and then quickly understood the key points of the novel: the protagonist will appear at the Banquet of Beauties, it will be a male, homosexual, unmatched beauty, superb body; a pitiful character with a tragic fate. He needs to save the protagonist, give him the greatest care, heal his physical and mental health, and then help him find happiness and joy!

During Song Qingshi's time, respect for sexual orientation was written into the law, and same-sex couples could get married.

He once found a novel lost by a rotten girl classmate, titled "His Evil Majesty's Spoiled Husband". On the cover was a handsome and domineering man in a period costume holding a beautiful woman with long hair with a super flat chest. He didn't understand it, and returned the book. When he asked curiously, his classmates told him what Danmei was, and told him that the beauty on the cover was actually male. The beautiful male was the "shou", and the domineering one was the "gong". So Song Qingshi is confident that he would easily distinguish between the gong and the shou in the novel. He would never mistake the gong as the protagonist.

He had thought it through and the direction of problem-solving has been determined. All that was left was to wait for the Banquet of Beauties to start the exam.

Song Qingshi's spiritual sea gradually became clear. The soul and body were merged and became flexible. He sat up with his hands cautiously, took off his shoes, raised his feet, and tried to stretch the toes that had been stiff for many years. The white and round toes curled happily. Song Qingshi stood up shakily, briefly walking forward a few steps with hands and feet before finally remembered the walking posture of a normal person, and his movements gradually changed from jerky to steady. . .

Under his feet was soft green grass and moist soil.

Outside the forest was a calm river. Song Qingshi stepped into the water and took a handful of cold river water to wash his face, confirming that he was not in a dream.

Tears fell out of extreme joy, and the big tears fell onto his palms. His hands couldn't stop no matter how much he tried. The river calmed down from the slight disturbance, and the reflection of the boy's figure appeared.

Song Qingshi was surprised to find that the body given to him by the system was very similar to his high school appearance; he was not very tall and significantly thinner. He wore a Daoist cultivator outfit made of many layers of snow-coloured cloud brocade, wrapped tightly around his body. At first glance, all the layers of clothing gave the illusion of a frail man.

His thin hair was simply tied up with some loose hair dangling freely. His appearance may be related to immortal cultivation. He is a bit more refined than his original body, with a cold, pale complexion and clear eyes. Because he often blocks out the world and focuses on his study, he feels a bit dull and extremely gullible, leading many unlucky ghosts to think that the original was harmless and would become the fertilizer or poison tester.

. . .

After Song Qingshi vented his emotions and saw the red-rimmed eyes in the reflection, he was a little embarrassed. He hurriedly lowered his head and fetched water, trying to wash away the tears on his face, but behind him came the sound of fine bells and ridicule.

"It's useless to commit suicide. It will only cause you needless pain. If you are still not reconciled, you can try and sink slowly to see if you can succeed."

Surprised, Song Qingshi turned around and saw the most beautiful thing he'd seen in his life.

There were trees full of peach blossoms, and under the tree was a beautiful young boy in red. Who knows how long he was watching Song Qingshi stupidly crying. The young man's appearance was blooming, like a scroll of rich colours and ink, painted with all the romantic colours of the world. The warm jade-like skin, the most beautiful thing about him were the dark golden phoenix eyes under the crow-feather-like eyelashes. He resembled a noble and dignified phoenix in the sky, but there was an extremely gorgeous red tear-shared mole under the corner of his left eye, desecrating his nobleness. The dignity of his appearance was crushed, and the phoenix rejoined the mortal world, turning into a creature stained with flattery and seductiveness which made people feel unbearable tempted.

His long hair was untied and hung casually around his waist. The ends of his hair were slightly curled, his feet were bare, and he was only wearing a red dress made of shark silk. The shark silk was as smooth as water, clinging to his body, covering all the desirables underneath.

Song Qingshi did not think anything blasphemous, but because he was caught crying, his social anxiety became more intense. After a long pause of building courage, he stumbled and said: "I, I just..."

His hesitation became reluctant approval in the eyes of the beauty in red.

There are dangerous monsters and birds everywhere in the immortal world. Cultivators were equipped with spiritual auras and keen senses, and can easily detect the wind and grass around them. Even the minor cultivators in the time they were establishing their cultivation base would not miss the sound of mortal footsteps with bells, let alone the Nascent Soul cultivators. If they release their spiritual thoughts, the smallest creatures on the mountain would not escape their attention. Except for Song Qingshi, a newly-born soul who had just arrived in this world, and was still very unused to spiritual power and these world conditions. . .

The beauty in red had completely misunderstood, thinking that Song Qingshi was also a mortal. There was only one use for such a beautiful mortal in Golden Phoenix Manor. He clarified: "A new slave?"

Song Qingshi looked up in amazement. He wanted to ask questions, but his eyes fell on the beauty of the red dress. There seemed to be some strange bruises on his neck as if it had been bitten by a mosquito, but it seemed that it might be something else. He took a few more secretive glances, trying to determine what they were.

The beauty in red noticed his curious glances and his heart grew upset. With growing malicious intent, a very gentle smile appeared on his face, and he said in a sincerely blessed tone: "Don't stare, you will have them soon, too."

Song Qingshi was very sheltered before transmigrating. He had never encountered malice and did not understand the mystery behind these words. Although he thought this blessing was a bit strange, he still answered politely: "Thank you."

The beauty in red choked hearing this answer. He was stunned for a moment. He looked at Song Qingshi up and down like a fool, and found that the person in front of him was clean and his skin was free of any injuries. He had never experienced the ravages of hell in his eyes. He was pure.

This discovery made him feel pity for the heart that had been tempered by suffering. He retracted his sharp malice and said softly, "After tonight, you will know that death is a luxury." He turned slightly to his side, looking at the river's flow. He warned, "When I first came here, I tried to commit suicide many times, but it was useless. We are slaves who are branded with the Acacia Seal. Our spirits belong to our master. So long as the master doesn't allow it, we cannot die, even by our own hands. . .

The beauty in red was silent for a long time. He slowly stretched out his hand and stroked Song Qing's hair that was soft as the fur of a small animal.

Song Qingshi saw several red rope marks on his pale wrists. He realized that this was pain that the beauty wouldn't want to be questioned about, so he pushed down his curiosity.

The fingertips of the red-dressed beauty slipped from his hair to Song Qingshi's delicate face, watching his innocent expression. He held his hand there for a moment before putting it down, conflicted. He didn't want to say any more. Since he didn't know those nightmarish experiences, it was useless to say anything more. Being able to preserve this kind of innocence, it was one more moment of happiness for him. Finally, he sighed, "You look good, but unfortunately the more your looks improve as you grow, the longer it will be until you're freed. . ."

Song Qingshi was puzzled: "What do you mean by 'freed'?"

"You'll know soon." The beauty in red's expression suddenly relaxed. He glanced around carefully, then stretched out his index finger and tapped his lips lightly. With a voice so light that he could barely hear it, he said ambiguously, "Tonight I will be freed. . ."

The beauty in red turned around with a smile and, with a crisp ring of the bells, turned to leave. His steps were a bit unstable, and each step was strenuous, like a mermaid walking on the tip of a knife in pain.

A pair of exquisite gold shackles were exposed on the beauty's ankles under the red clothes. Each of the shackles was decorated with an exquisite bell. The middle was connected by a slender golden chain. When walking, the bell shook slightly and made a clear and sweet sound, just like a tethered bird.

The golden chain dragged across the grass, and a few drops of blood dropped onto the green leaves.

Song Qingshi mustered up the courage to overcome his social anxiety, and shouted to the beauty who was about to leave: "Are you. . .injured? I, I know medical skills. . . Do you need me to treat you?"

The beauty in red turned back, looked at him for a few seconds, and he couldn't help but smile. This time the smile finally reached his eyes, like a ray of golden sunlight breaking through the clouds, dazzlingly beautiful. He shook his head towards Song Qingshi, and gave himself a sincere blessing: "I hope you have better luck tonight."

He turned his head, and the sunlight in his eyes disappeared in a flash, as if it had never existed, only the dark clouds that would not retreat.

Having endured these nightmares for years, he has long learned not to remember the kindness of others, and not to care about being offered charity from others.

He walked alone in this prison without stopping, step after step, wearing those painful shackles.

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-15: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

“Come on then, Miss Direction Blind. I'll be the one to give you the directions now.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

After a week of working at Warson, I’d technically adapted to how things went about here. Zheng Lin had also arranged my first solo gig.

Zheng Lin: The design hub has a mentor system set in place.

Zheng Lin: So, all Assistants and Junior Designers will have a mentor assigned to them.

Zheng Lin: Of course, it is not up to you to choose, but your future mentor.

Zheng Lin: Every Senior Designer, including Director Qi, will participate in this program as a mentor.

MC: Director Qi too?

Zheng Lin: Correct. The selection criteria will be the results of your first independent work.

Zheng Lin: It might be solo work, but you can always approach me if you run into something you don't understand.

Zheng Lin: And also, I'll get Brother Mao to help you out, considering how you've only just arrived here and have yet to familiarize yourself with this place.

Zheng Lin: Of course, his aid doesn't include helping you out with your design.

Zheng Lin: In any case, just make sure to do this job well because the results of this will determine who your future mentor will be. Understand?

I understood what she was getting at. Mentors would greatly influence and affect the growth of a rookie. One will be able to learn much more when paired with an experienced mentor who shares the same aesthetic sense.

Although the deadline is still a long time from now, I want to become the best mentee choice to ever face Sariel.

The job this time was to create a dress for Lin Yao, the new up and coming actress, for her award ceremony.

❖☆———————————★❖

She was a child actress who'd recently risen to fame when the popularity of the young idol teen drama she starred in half a year ago exploded. Due to her cold countenance, she was dubbed by the media as the "Nation's Fairy Nymph" 

This time, the local crime movie she'd starred as the lead for had received a double harvest at the word-of-mouth box office. It has also been nominated as one of the most popular movies and the movie with the best female lead among many others.

This movie was about a talented dancing genius who secretly plotted the murder of her abusive stepmother for many, many years. This caused the creation of a second personality within her; the murder happened then. At the end of the film, she danced in the pure white snow beside the dead body of her stepmother. Something that she'd only ever dreamt about. And there, etched upon her face, was the first smile of her life.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Her performance is way too good! I can't even tell that it's an act...

After watching some of her award-winning works interviews, I finally managed to get some semblance of understanding about Lin Yao.

She was someone of few words, a polite and obedient kid who never once had a single bad article to her name. She was forever smiling in front of the cameras. She was hardworking and responsible when it came to her work, and has had a smooth journey ever since her debut. It was the very epitome of what a perfect life was; one that everybody admired.

MC: A traditional fairy dress would be too conservative. Although that'd be very in line with her image, it'll merely be the same thing all over again. That wouldn't make her stand out on the red carpet.

MC: I can't help but feel like she's not all as inwardly peaceful as she appears on the outside. Perhaps she's fiercer or more sensitive deep down...

I didn't know how I could express this mismatch in her persona.

Perhaps it was those eyes of hatred of hers that shot daggers in the movie, or maybe that one sliver of vulnerability that she let slip in her interviews every once in a while. Those factors made it hard for me to decide just what kind of style I should go with her dress.

MC: And I also feel like digging deeper to uncover the other more charming side of her that no one knows...

The genius young maiden of the nation. A turbulent era of change. Self-redemption and self-destruction. All of these factors were only impactful when combined together with the era it was set in. It was only then, that everything felt fated to be.

MC: What if I added these elements to the dress?

I closed my eyes and imagined it in my head. A black feather dress inspired by the nation slowly formed in my mind's eye.

MC: I know!

Brother Mao: Heavens! You gave me a scare right there!

That was when I realized that I'd quite literally leapt out of my seat in my excitement. I gave an embarrassed laugh.

MC: Brother Mao, I'm going to go out and do some fieldwork to get some inspiration!

❖☆———————————★❖

If I were to find things related to the nation, then the museum would be the most appropriate choice.

Back when I was little, I'd always be left in the care of my mother's ex-partner when neither she nor my grandmother had the time to take care of me. He was responsible for managing this museum that could be called my second home of sorts.

MC: But, why does it look different from how I remember…?

The place had been renovated during the long period of time I hadn't been to it. All the exhibition halls had changed locations.

I followed the signs towards the hall where all the local things were displayed, only for my attention to be caught by a familiar figure.

Dressed entirely in black, said person had his arm behind his back as he stood motionless in front of the collections before him.

His straight posture made him look like a tall, yet silent, statue from afar. Under the lights of the spotlight, a faint silvery-white halo surrounded him. I could even see the small particles of dust floating in the air amidst the light. It made him look stand-offish and sharp.

I couldn't stop myself from raising my camera and snapping a shot. 

Click! 

The man noticed; immediately whipping his head around.

MC: ...Osborn!?

Surprised, I retreated a step; only to realize that my hands were now empty. Osborn had snatched my camera from me.

Osborn: Watcha hiding?

He cocked his head to look at the camera, the corners of his mouth upturning into an arc.

Osborn: You're sneakily taking shots of me? Let's see how they turned out.

MC: Return it back to me first!

Osborn purposely lifted the camera higher out of my reach.

Osborn: Why are you so frantic? It's not like I mind or anything.

MC: I still have things to do! Hurry and give it back already!

Osborn: What did you come here for?

MC: Photos. I came here looking for inspiration.

Osborn nodded, turning and walking away with my camera in hand.

Osborn: Weren't you here for pictures? Come on, let's go.

Does he want to accompany me?

I hurriedly chased after him and held out the guidebook for him to take. However, he'd only waved his hand in dismissal and signalled for me to follow behind him.

He led me around the museum as if he knew the place like the back of his hand. All I had to do was to name the exhibit and he'd be able to find it immediately.

His sense of direction is incredible. What is he? A human-sized GPS?

MC: Do you come here often, Osborn?

Osborn: It's my first time here.

MC: …..

Osborn let out two short laughs as he crooked his head and contemplated me.

Osborn: And how many times have you been here?

MC: I've come here a couple of times in the past, I guess. I'm not very familiar with this place. Ahem...

??: (Y/n)! Is it really you? You've come back to the country?

The curator uncle that I'd not seen in a long time suddenly comes round from a corner. He looked astonished to see me here.

Mr. Curator: You've grown into a splendid young woman in the years I've not seen you. It's great to see you back! Come by my place for dinner when you're free!

Mr. Curator: Oh, yes. Should I get you a guide? I remember that you got lost here once.

MC: No need! My friend here has a superb sense of direction!

My face heated up as I hurriedly pointed to Osborn. He didn't say anything more, only laughing as he nodded to Osborn before leaving.

Brilliant. I originally intended to keep the fact that I was directionally challenged under wraps when around Osborn, but now… He's gonna make fun of me again.

MC: Right, but I'm still pretty good at reading maps…

In the end, Osborn couldn't hold back his laughter and ended up laughing till his shoulders were shaking. He took hold of my arm in one swift motion and started walking forward.

Osborn: Come on then, Miss Direction Blind.

Osborn: I'll be the one to give you the directions now.

Somehow, I vaguely felt my heart skip a beat at that.

MC: I want to go to the national exhibit…

❖☆———————————★❖

The national exhibit had now been renovated and refurbished retro-style. All the new collections exhibited here now turned out to be clothing and accessories. 

Looks like I made the right choice in coming here.

Osborn: Want do you wanna snap?

MC: That one. The brown layered cheongsam patterned through burn-out printing.

MC: The blueish-grey female damask lined jacket!

MC: And that short-sleeved georgette velvet cheongsam that's also patterned through burn-out printing!

I'd virtually snapped a picture of every outfit on display here. The tentative image I originally had in mind seemed to become clearer now.

MC: Okay, that's all.

Osborn kept the camera and glanced at the time.

Osborn: Let's go then.

❖☆———————————★❖

Dusk had already fallen by the time we walked out of the museum. The smell of sundown envelopes us in its serenity, as the breeze carries the fragrance of hyacinths.

Osborn walks up to a black motorcycle and leans on its back seat.

MC: Thank you for today. I didn’t cause you any trouble by hogging you and making you take pictures for me, did I?

Osborn: Sure you did.

MC: …Ah. What are you going to do about it?

Osborn: Then, how about you do a little something to repay me? The bracelet I was looking at earlier; have you seen anything like it before?

The image of Osborn staring seriously at the white-coloured jade cong earlier flashed through my mind.

MC: That’s not a bracelet. It’s a jade cong. They’re used as ritual artefacts in ancient witchcraft or religious sacrifices.

MC: The one you saw earlier was a typical one belonging to the Liangzhu Culture. It’s speculated that it’s used to communicate with gods or the souls trapped in this realm.

Osborn: You know quite a lot.

MC: I used to come here a lot as a kid, and I’d just tail the big sister, the guide, back then when I had nothing better to do. That’s why I remember so many things.

Osborn: Hu? You don't look like an expert at all.

MC: I’m still learning, but they do say that the better your memory, the smoother the sail of your learning curve.

Osborn: Let’s see… Wasn’t there an expert earlier who couldn’t even tell left from right?

MC: I was born with a poor sense of direction! I told you that my map reading skills were still passable!

Osborn: Okay, okay. What’s with the glare? I’m only poking fun at you.

Osborn: My sense of direction is brilliant, so just follow me next time.

MC: ……

MC: Right, but that jade cong earlier was a little odd.

Osborn: Man, the way you change topics needs a little working on.

MC: Do you want to listen, or not?

Osborn: Spill.

MC: I’ve never seen a jade cong from the Liangzhu Culture with the double-headed snake motif carved onto it before.

MC: There exists a sacred double-headed snake motif in Sumerian Culture. It represents Ningishzida, the Lord of the Good Woods.

MC: And in the mythology Ningishzida hails from, the gods used clay to create humans and make the beginnings of the first civilization.

MC: Just like the Fuxi Nuwa from our ancient mythology.

MC: Funny thing is that, coincidentally, the Sumernarian two-headed snake is also very similar to the Fuxi Nuwa.

Osborn unknowingly furrows his brow whilst muttering about something under his breath. However, he quickly returns to his usual playful self.

Osborn: Okay. I've got it.

MC: Why are you interested in something like this?

MC: I remember that the bracelet you showed me up on the roof that day had the same motif.

Osborn: Ever heard of this saying?

Osborn made a come hither motion, signalling for me to get closer to him.

Osborn: The more secrets you know, the more you'll be...

He did a cutthroat gesture whilst smirking at me.

MC: Do I look like I care?

Osborn: It has something to do with someone I'm looking for. I'll tell you next time if I get the chance.

MC: Hmm…

Osborn: But, no telling anyone about what happened today.

MC: Okay. Now gimme the camera.

Osborn: I helped you and yet not even a single "thank you" from you?

Osborn leaned further backwards, purposefully dodging my hand that went straight for the camera, a devilish look on his face.

MC: Thank you!

Osborn: Now stick your hand out.

A small lemon candy was placed into my outstretched palm alongside the camera.

Osborn: Where are you headed? I'll send you.

He flipped himself onto his bike, surveying the congested road up ahead.

MC: I can't possibly bother you like that...

I waved my hand and turned his offer down out of habit, yet inwardly, I was silently pondering about just how I was to get onto that tall bike of his.

However, just as I was about to step onto it and swing myself onto the seat, the engine gave a resounding roar as said motorbike speeded away from me.

Only a single line hung in the air in his wake: "Bye!"

MC: Hey! I was just being nice! It wouldn't hurt to have asked me again...

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-13) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-18)

[ouyangzizhensdad]

So one thing I am confused about. I see a lot of takes on how Wwx acted like a gay stereotype in the first few chapters. And this is pointed out as a mark of his homophobia (as in he's homophobic because he thinks that's how a gay person would act). But, from context of the book, it seems to me he's weaponizing what *society* will think a gay man would act like to get out of what he views as a dangerous situation? As in, to me he's deliberately playing up stereotypes... (1/2)

(2/2) to make people uncomfortable and leave him alone. This isn't to say he's not internalized some stuff. Working through those feelings is a major part of the book. But it feels like people seem to be missing the fact that he's using how people are uncomfortable with Mxy as a means to get out of what he sees as a tight situation. Rather like how we get a woman using 'lady problems' as an excuse to make men uncomfortable and leave her alone. Or am I completely of the mark?

Oh anon, dear anon, how did you know I’ve been meaning to write a post about this since I’ve first been introduced to these takes? Have you taken a trip to the dark recesses of my mind lately (or maybe spied on my drafts)? 

Before we get started, I do want to address the fact that the ExR translation, which is generally how international fans first access the novel, uses terms/ways of phrasing things about cut-sleeves that make it seem more connoted than what you can see in the original chinese, thereby colouring how we may perceive WWX’s opinions on cutsleeves (since he is the narrator). If you compare pumpkinpaix’s translation of chapter 2 to that of ExR’s, you may understand what I mean (I personally went and checked the original with my limited chinese skills and pumpkinpaix’s is the most faithful translation imo).

Compare and contrast: 

Pumpkinpaix’s translation: “Thank goodness, this body had not been born with a strange appearance, only strange tastes. Here was a grown man who not only wore a full face of rouge and powder, but wore it in such an ugly fashion!“

ExR scans’ translation: “Fortunately, the body wasn’t born this way—it was only one of the owner’s penchants. He was no-doubt a man, yet he was covered with makeup (not to mention, badly applied makeup). Ugh, how unbearable!“

And another: 

Pumpkinpaix’s translation: “Not only chased, but banished with great shame: for Mo Xuanyu was a cutsleeve who even dared to recklessly molest and harass his peers. With this public scandal, along with the mediocrity of his talent and the insignificance of his cultivation progress, there was no reason to let him stay in the family any longer.

To make matters worse, no one knew what kind of shock he’d suffered, but after he returned, he seemed to have gone completely mad. He had good days and bad—it was as if he had been scared witless. After reading to this point, Wei Wuxian furrowed his brow. Being just a cutsleeve was one thing, but a lunatic as well! No wonder his face was all covered in powder and rouge like an old hanged ghost, and no wonder no one found the bloody array surprising.”

ExR scans’ translation: “On top of that, he was driven back shamefully.Mo XuanYu was homosexual, and had enough nerve to harass the other disciples. The scandal was revealed to the public and, as he had few achievements in terms of cultivation, there were no reasons for him to stay in the clan.Like adding frost to snow, aside from the event itself, when Mo XuanYu returned, he often behaved in a crazy manner, almost as if his life was scared out of him.The story was almost too complex to be put into words. Wei WuXian’s eyebrows twitched.Not only a lunatic, a homosexual lunatic as well. That explained why there were enough rouge and powder on his face to make him look like a hanged ghost, and also why nobody was surprised at the large, bloody array on the ground.”

See how the latter translation makes it seem as if WWX were thinking that being a gay lunatic is worse than being a lunatic, and that him being a ‘gay lunatic’ explains his appearance; whereas, in the former, it appears to be more of a comment about how MXY was perceived by his family as a disgrace, and underlines that the fact he is a “lunatic” explains how ‘usual’ his appearance and the shack’s disarray were to his cousin and his lackeys.

But to address your actual point, I think saying that WWX weaponizes what society think of how a gay would act is still an oversimplification. WWX is in fact weaponizing the very specific nature of MXY’s reputation, which includes him being known to be:

a lunatic

a cutsleeve

a molester/harasser

The fact that people even suggest that this is how WWX views gay people is ludicrous to me because of the context in which it is presented in the novel. WWX is not trying to “pass” as MXY by attempting what he believes to be an authentic performance of being a gay man. WWX, from the get-go, acts in public in ways that are incompatible with what he knows of MXY. When he first gets out of the shack, he acts in ways he knows are contrary to how MXY would have acted. 

“Thinking to recover the face he’d [A-Tong] just lost, he jumped over and, like one would reprimand a dog, waved his hand and scolded, “Shoo, shoo! Go back! What did you come out for!”

Even towards a beggar or a fly, one wouldn’t be more unpleasant. These servants had very likely acted like this towards Mo Xuanyu in the past. After all, he never resisted, so they could be this unscrupulously reckless. Wei Wuxian, with a light kick, knocked A’Tong head over heels, laughing, “Now, who is it you think you’re insulting?”

Finished kicking, he followed the sound of the hubbub, walking towards the east.“ [Chapter 3 ]

Instead, WWX weaponizes MXY’s reputation (the trifecta of lunatic-cutsleeve-harasser) whenever he needs it to either 1) get the information he needs/test a theory, 2) manipulate people into certain actions 3) quickly get out of a sticky situation. Again, it is not meant to be an authentic representation of what he believes to be a gay man: it is a targeted attack with expected results. 

Let’s take for instance the East Hall Scene at Mo Mansion. WWX goes there, and slips into a lunatic persona which, from what we can infer by the Mo Family’s reaction, is not even a close performance of MXY’s “lunacy”. At this point, WWX is trying to test out if publicly humiliating the Mo Family will be enough to fulfill his part of the contract MXY forced upon him. It is the first time he brings up MXY’s being a cutsleeve, and he does so in the process of trying to cause disgrace by implying his cousin might not have had pure intentions towards him. The text makes it clear that he is only doing so to attack the Mo Family’s face, implying unspeakable designs upon MXY by his cousin. 

Unexpectedly, Wei Wuxian spoke again, “Speaking of, he not only shouldn’t have stolen my things, he really shouldn’t have gone to steal them in the middle of the night. Who doesn’t know, this son here likes men! He might not know shame, but I know not to tie my shoes in a melon patch!”

Madam Mo gasped in horror, shouting, “What are you saying in front of your village elders! How  can you have so little face; A’Yuan is your younger cousin!”

When it came to wild displays of atrocious behavior, Wei Wuxian was a master. In the past when he ran wild, he still had to mind appearances for he couldn’t let others accuse him of having no family upbringing, but now since he was a lunatic anyways, what face did he need! He could go straight to making a scene, acting on whatever pleased him. He straightened his neck and stated with righteous confidence, “He clearly knows he’s my younger cousin, and he still didn’t try to avoid arousing suspicion—exactly who has less face?! If you don’t want any, fine, but don’t spoil my innocence! I still want to find a good man!!!” [Chapter 3]

It is also important to remember MXY’s reputation as a molester/harrasser, which WWX leans into at certain points in the novel (for instance when he gets ‘caught’ trying to steal LWJ’s seal to exit the Cloud Recesses and pretends to have been spying on him bathing to try to get kicked out instead). I do not consider that WWX actually believes at face-value the accusations; like LWJ, he is wary of judging without having all the information, having himself suffered groundless accusations (and, surprise surprise, it turns out the accusations were fabricated by JGY! btw, for all the people out there who say MXTX is homophobic because she wrote a gay character who’s a molester...... i am begging you to get some reading comprehension, even store-bought is fine at this point). And if people think MXTX did not mean to emphasize the importance of that reputation, I ask them to please pay attention to what is said before WWZ implies JC is trying to flirt with him/flirts with LWJ later on in the novel (in front, as well, of many of the Juniors). Notice how we are getting the trifecta again?: 

Even after thinking it over multiple times, Jiang Cheng still couldn’t accept the fact [that Zidian had not worked]. He pointed at Wei Wuxian and scowled, “Who on Earth are you?”

Finally, a meddlesome bystander added a word to the conversation. He coughed, “Jiang-zongzhu, you might have not paid attention to these things and thus remained unaware. Mo Xuanyu was part the LanlingJin Sect’s… Ahem, he used to be a foreign disciple of the Jin Sect. But, because his spiritual powers were low and he didn’t work hard in his studies, and also had that… He harassed a peer and was thrown out of the LanlingJin Sect. I’ve also heard that he lost his marbles? In my opinion, he was probably bitter from being unable to cultivate using the correct path and ventured off onto the wrong one.”

Jiang Cheng asked, “That? What do you mean?” 

“That… As in that…” 

Someone couldn’t help but comment, “The cut-sleeve penchant!” 

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrows twitched. His eyes which stared at Wei Wuxian seemed more disgusted than before. [Chapter 9]

The text also makes it clear that WWX is drawing upon more than just “Eww gay!” when he’s weaponizing MXY’s reputation to try to get away from JC and LWJ. He’s also thinking about JC’ inferiority complex and LWJ’s (perceived) serious nature. 

“Then,” Jiang Cheng replied coldly, “why is Lan-er-gongzi going to such great lengths to protect an unimportant person such as him?”

Out of the blue, Wei Wuxian suppressed laughter could be heard.

“Jiang-zongzhu, umm, I’ll feel very troubled if you keep on bothering me like this.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyebrow twitched again. His instincts told him that this person would definitely not say anything pleasant next.

"Thank you for being so enthusiastic, but your thoughts are quite off. Even though I am attracted to men, I don’t like just any type of man, much less follow anyone who waves at me. I’m not interested in men like you.”

Wei Wuxian was purposely trying to disgust him. Jiang Cheng had always hated being defeated when compared with others, no matter how pointless the comparison was. If anyone said that he was not as good as someone else, he’d get angered and not think about anything else until he won against them. As expected, Jiang Cheng’s face darkened.

“Oh, really? Then, may I ask which type you’re interested in?

“Which type?” he replied, “Well, I am very much attracted to people like Hanguang-jun.” 

Lan Wangji could not tolerate this sort of frivolous and foolish joke at all. If he felt disgusted, he would definitely draw a line between them and keep his distance. Disgusting two people at once—this was killing two birds with one stone!” [Chapter 9]

I won’t go through all the examples and moments in the novel (even in forced-voluntary self-isolation it is too much to ask out of me), but I hope my point was illustrated well enough with just these! Thank you again for your ask, it forced me to finally write it all down!

[ibijau]

Futures Past pt8 / On AO3

Meng Yao's future is dealt with.

To say that Lan Qiren was disappointed in his nephew for helping Nie Huaisang escape into Yunping City would have been an understatement. It was made quite clear to Lan Xichen that he would face punishment of his own for this misbehaviour. Real punishment, too, not just copying texts as had become standards for small infractions. Still, Lan Qiren listened to that tale of a corrupt merchant scamming people with fake manuals, which greatly irritated him, and thus forced sect leader Huang to care as well and deal with it immediately.

It was wrong to think maliciously of anyone without proof, and even more so if the person was an elder. Yet as they all walked toward the market Lan Xichen couldn’t shake the feeling that had he been alone when news of that crooked merchant reached him, Huang Quiling might not have cared enough to do anything about it. After all, he hadn’t asked Lan Xichen for any details about this business, and instead appeared intent on continuing his conversation with Jiang Fengmian about borders and trade.

Lives were on the line, Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao’s futures depended on this day, and nobody cared. 

They didn't care because they couldn't know, of course, but logic wasn't helping Lan Xichen's ever growing anxiety. He only calmed down when they all reached the place where the others were waiting, and found that everyone of any importance was still where he had left them. 

While Lan Xichen was gone, things had changed a little in the market. Most of the earlier crowd had dispersed, tired of waiting for more entertainment, and the market street was almost back to normal. Those few curious folks who remained were trying to inconspicuously listen in as Nie Huaisang chatted with, or rather at poor Meng Shi. The unfortunate woman looked deeply uncomfortable, but didn't dare openly disrespect the young master who had confirmed her son's potential for cultivation by walking away.

She couldn't leave yet, anyway, not until she'd gotten her money back for those fake cultivation manuals. From what Lan Xichen could see, Jiang Cheng and Meng Yao were taking care of that, the two of them counting money with that crooked merchant. Here and there Meng Yao would glance at Nie Huaisang, as if something he said attracted his attention, but each time Jiang Cheng brought his attention back to the task at hand.

When Lan Xichen and his elders came close enough to hear, the distress made sense: Nie Huaisang, after all this time, was still discussing the many failings of Jin Guangshan. Lan Xichen wished he were surprised, but there really was that much gossip going around about that man. Most people just didn't usually discuss all of it at once out of respect for a sect leader.

“And then, da-ge said that Jin zongzhu brought in dancers,” Nie Huaisang was saying to a rapt audience, insensitive to the discomfort of Meng Shi next to him. “Da-ge said it was getting embarrassing to watch when Jin Furen arrived, and she made such a scene because apparently her husband had promised to consult her about all the entertainments at the banquet but he brought the dancers without tell her. So then, she… oh, already?”

Nie Huaisang, so cheerful while telling his story, turned a little pale at the sight of Lan Qiren. He looked around for something to hide him from his teacher’s angry glare, and had to settle for slipping behind poor Meng Shi. Lan Xichen refrained from rolling his eyes, and directed his elders' attention where it was actually needed. 

“Here is the man,” Lan Xichen announced, motioning toward the merchant. “He has been selling fake cultivation manuals to people.”

“Fake talismans as well,” Jiang Cheng said, lifting a few before crumbling them in his hand. “And he has been doing this for a while. How long, did you say?”

“We started buying from him last year,” Meng Yao explained with a polite bow toward the older cultivators. “But he started coming to the market the year before that, and already offered the same wares. We assumed he had received permission to sell those items, since...”

Meng Yao trailed off, glancing toward sect leader Huang before bowing deeper as if in apology.

Strictly speaking, no sect could be expected to be aware of and to deal with every crook that operated in their territory, so Huang Quiling couldn't be blamed for that situation. At the same time, it would be considered shameful for any sect to have someone selling fakes in its own hometown of all places, and for so long. It spoke of unreliability on their part if people would rather go to a nobody on the market, or else it meant that they priced their services much too high for common people. It also meant they didn't care about commoners, who surely had to have complained about that merchant before. Either way, it wasn't a good look for Huang Quiling, and he would have to act properly to clean this stain on his reputation.

But instead of scolding the merchant or threatening him, Huang Quiling only had eyes for Meng Shi, who was glaring at him defiantly.

“So it's you again,” sect leader Huang muttered. “Meng Shi! Haven’t I told you to stop bothering cultivators?” he turned to the other two sect leaders and gave a small apologetic bow. “I’m sorry that your boys got caught up in this. Meng Shi is just a local whore who’s convinced herself that her bastard has what it takes to be a cultivator. Completely delusional, the boy will never amount to anything. You can't judge that merchant's wares just because the bastard of a whore didn't become an immortal from reading it. I'm unsure the boy can even read.”

Meng Shi, proud as a queen until then, went pale. Lan Xichen felt her shock and horror as if they were his own. He turned to glance at his uncle, worried he might side with Huang Quiling, but to his relief Lan Qiren instead appeared annoyed at the sect leader. It was probably only the coarse language that he disapproved of, and the public nature of this confrontation which he must feel stained all their reputations, yet Lan Xichen felt emboldened anyway.

“Huang zongzhu, have you tested Meng gongzi?” he asked. “We checked on him, and found he has potential.”

“What would mere boys know about these things?” Huang Quiling snapped at him. “Which one of you tested him?”

Lan Xichen hesitated, and glanced at the other boys. He hadn’t come anywhere near Meng Yao yet, and couldn’t lie about that. But if he said it was Nie Huaisang who had checked on Meng Yao, and after his horrible performance at the Night Hunt the day before, it wouldn’t be much of an endorsement. Lan Xichen himself only trusted Nie Huaisang’s assessment because he knew from that other future what sort of cultivation genius Meng Yao was.

“I’m the one who checked on him,” Jiang Cheng boldly lied. Or perhaps he really had checked, dubious as well of Nie Huaisang's assessment, because he continued: “For someone not born from gentry, his potential is not to be dismissed. It might be on par with Yunmeng Jiang's first disciple, if he were just taught properly.”

Huang Quiling, so disdainful a moment before, lost all of his confidence. He glanced at Jiang Fengmian whose face showed no particular expression, except perhaps mild curiosity now that Wei Wuxian had been mentioned. Lan Xichen wasn't sure what to make of that. He hadn’t often been near Jiang Fengmian except at the occasional discussion conference, and of course in the other future they had never gotten to work together as sect leaders. According to gossip, Jiang Fengmian was something of a pushover, who loved quiet and peace more than he cared about justice, but on occasion he could show strength of character if the mood hit him.

"What does his skill matter, with a mother like that?" Huang Quiling claimed, refusing to admit defeat. "No self respecting sect would knowingly take in the son of a whore. It'd be like teaching a pig to walk on two legs, dressing it in silk, and calling it human."

"People ought to be judged on their actions rather than their origins," Lan Xichen retorted, which caused sect leader Huang to glare at him with bulging eyes, his face dark with a rage so strong it robbed him of his words. Even without looking, Lan Xichen knew that his uncle too had to be shocked, that there would be hell to pay for this later. But then, if he was going to be punished, he might as well go all the way. "Just because you don't have the talent to teach someone,” he said, “don't assume a skilled teacher can't do it either."

Huang Quiling looked on the verge of having a Qi deviation, gaping and frothing at the mere boy who dared to insult him so openly. He wasn't the only one to stare, either. Nie Huaisang, the Jiangs, the Mengs, and above all Lan Qiren were looking at Lan Xichen as if he'd suddenly grown a second head.

A very rude second head, at that.

Lan Xichen just couldn't help it. Back in that awful future, the man he would have become had also been enraged and saddened at the unfairness of the world, particularly with regards to Meng Yao. If people hadn't judged him so harshly for something he had no control over, if instead they had taken notice of his skill, of his hard working personality, of his determination…

In that future, Lan Xichen had never dared to speak up, believing in the virtues of inaction and of leading by example, the way he'd been taught to behave. So far in this current life his attempts at being more active hadn't really worked so well, only ensuring that Nie Huaisang made a terrible friend in Su She and started hating Lan Xichen much earlier, but maybe this time, just maybe...

“Lan-xiansheng, your nephew is rather opinionated for a boy his age,” Huang Quiling complained. “I have heard a great deal how well behaved the young heir to Gusu Lan is, but it appears some reputations are undeserved.”

“My nephew will be dealt with,” Lan Qiren calmly replied, which dampened Lan Xichen's moment of rebellion more than anger could have. “And he will present excuses to you. Right now, Xichen.”

“But Lan gongzi's right!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, coming out from his hiding place being Meng Shi. Under Lan Qiren's glare he shivered, but didn't give up. “I mean, he's right at least to ask if Meng gongzi was tested,” he mumbled. “And he's right to say it's not fair if nobody will teach him just because of his family! I've read our histories, you know. I know people didn't want to teach some butcher any cultivation because it's unclean work, and now we're a big sect. Isn't it the same? And it's not just us, right?”

His eyes darted toward Jiang Fengmian, who smiled at the unsaid accusation.

The official history said that Yunmeng Jiang had been founded by a group of rogue cultivators. They had tired of wandering, and established themselves in a small port which soon thrived thanks to their presence and influence. As far as founding stories went, it was a very respectable one.

The less official story was that their founder had been the leader of a band of thieves who had picked up a trick or two and figured that cultivation paid better than robbery. Lan Xichen had never been interested enough in the subject to do any research, but he had a cousin with a taste for history who swore that annals from that period corroborated the second version more than the first. If so, it wasn't much better than being descended from a prostitute, though enough time had passed that it didn't matter so much anymore.

“I see my nephew won't be the only one who needs to be dealt with,” Lan Qiren remarked in an icy voice. Nie Huaisang, having used up all of his courage in standing up to his teacher, hid again behind Meng Shi, trying to make himself small.

“Boys must stand for something, it's what youth is for,” Jiang Fengmian replied with good humour, before gesturing toward Meng Yao. “Come here, boy. Let's see what all the fuss is about.”

“Jiang zongzhu, you're not serious!” Huang Quiling exploded. “That boy is just...”

“I'm only curious. If his proximity is intolerable, then perhaps you might help my son check those manuals to see if they are real or fake. Jiang Cheng, help Huang zongzhu while we deal with this side of the problem.”

Huang Quiling went pale from rage at being ordered around in that manner, but with Yunmeng Jiang the larger and more respectable sect, he still obeyed. He stomped toward the merchant's stall in a manner Lan Xichen found lacking in the dignity to be expected of a sect leader. Meng Yao, for his part, hesitated to obey Jiang Fengmian's order until Jiang Cheng pushed him forward. Huang Quiling radiated hatred when Meng Yao passed by him on his way to the other sect leaders. He looked as if he might have tried something, or said some other insults, but Meng Yao wisely made sure to leave as much space as possible between the two of them, which wasn't easy in a crowded market street.

“Come closer, child,” Jiang Fengmian requested when Meng Yao hesitantly stopped a few steps away from him. “I am going to put my hand on you to check your meridians. It might feel a little odd... but if my son tested you, you know that already, hm?”

Meng Yao nervously nodded glancing back toward his mother who smiled encouragingly. He only shivered a little when Jiang Fengmian put one hand over his heart, and even less so when Lan Qiren did the same after being invited to do so by Jiang Fengmian.

“I suppose the children have a point,” Lan Qiren conceded, his expression turning somewhat warmer. “How old are you, boy?”

“I'm sixteen, Lan-xiansheng.”

Instantly, Lan Qiren's expression darkened again.

“Too old then. If you'd been two or three years younger... and even then it would have been difficult. It's best to start young.”

Meng Yao's shoulders slumped down at the news, while all of Lan Xichen's hopes were crushed. He knew that his sect preferred younger disciples, though he suspected it had less to do with actual cultivation, and more with the fact that children took to discipline better than teenagers. Still, he had hoped that Meng Yao, with his potential... but Lan Qiren's word was final in these matters, with only their sect leader having a right to contradict him. Meng Yao couldn't be brought into Gusu Lan.

Which meant another option would have to be considered.

With dread curling in his guts and a choking sensation tightening his throat, Lan Xichen looked at Nie Huaisang still half hidden behind Meng Shi, and found the other boy staring right back at him. Nie Huaisang no longer appeared as furious at him as he had been before, but that might have been because he was preparing his own move, ready to ruin all of Lan Xichen's efforts. Nie Huaisang opened his mouth, surely to offer again that Meng Yao be sent to Qinghe, but missed his chance to speak.

“Yunmeng Jiang has never looked down on older disciples,” Jiang Fengmian said with a pleasant smile. “It can be a challenge to learn cultivation with a late start, but anyone who cannot take a challenge has no place teaching in the Lotus Pier. Sixteen... it could be worse. One of my own shidi was in his thirties when he joined us, and still did well enough for himself.”

Lan Xichen shivered, his body tensing further at this proposition.

Perhaps it was because he knew already, but the resemblance between Meng Yao and his father, between him and his half-brother also, was quite striking to him. It was possible that Jiang Fengmian hadn’t noticed, but unlikely when he often dealt with Jin Guangshan. Even if he really saw nothing, his wife was well known to be a very close friend to Madam Jin. There was no way Madam Yu wouldn’t notice that their newest disciple resembled Jin Guangshan, and since she was said to be a tyrant and the true ruler of Yunmeng Jiang…

“Are you sure this is wise?” Lan Qiren asked. “Even if that boy can be taught, his family…”

“His mother taught him well enough that he would take the defence of a stranger even in a fight he couldn’t win,” Jiang Fengmian said. “Or so your nephew said before. A good heart is what matters.”

“But half of Yunping City could be his father,” Huang Quiling argued, who'd paid more attention to their conversation than to the cultivation manuals he was meant to inspect. “From the lowest beggar to any drunk merchant with too much money to waste.”

“His father is a cultivator,” Meng Shi said, striding to come at her son's side. “He said he would return for A-Yao, but…” She glanced at Nie Huaisang who had followed her to hide again behind her. He had shared so much gossip earlier, it would have been hard for her to keep her hopes up. She sighed. “I only want for my son to live up to his potential. If he can be a cultivator, then that’s... good enough.”

“Is your son under any contractual obligation?” Jiang Fengmian asked.

“He's not,” Meng Shi vehemently decried. “He's free.”

“That will make things easier. If that is fine with you, I will accompany you two to your place of residence. We can talk about certain details while your son packs, and then he will come to Yunmeng with me. Would that satisfy you?”

Meng Shi, speechless, could only bow deeply before her son's new master. Meng Yao did the same a few times, before hugging his mother, both of them too stunned by this good fortune to even smile. As they held each other's hands tightly, Jiang Fengmian gave his son a few things to do while he was busy.

Huang Quiling too appeared quite stunned by this turn of events, and a good deal less pleased than the Mengs, but he wisely kept quiet about it. Lan Qiren's refusal to teach Meng Yao on account of his age would save Huang Quiling some face, since he could now pretend he had the same issue, but it wouldn't surprise Lan Xichen is the relationship because Yunmeng Jiang and Yunping Huang remained tense for a while.

Lan Xichen couldn't quite feel sorry for it. He didn't like people who thought they were allowed to be rude to their inferiors, and hoped that sect leader Huang would learn something from this experience.

Then, having given his son instructions, Jiang Fengmian walked back to Lan Qiren to bid him goodbye, explaining he expected his schedule for the day to be so changed that they might as well separate for good right then. Lan Qiren agreed, but frowned as he glanced toward Meng Yao.

“That boy's father, with his looks...” he said in a voice low enough the Mengs might not hear, but still clear enough for a cultivator's ears.

Eavesdropping was forbidden, but Lan Xichen found he couldn't help himself. Neither could Nie Huaisang, who leaned toward the two men to hear better.

“Probably. I'll have his mother confirm it,” Jiang Fengmian said in a similar tone. “but it won't change things. Even if my wife doesn't like it, I would be a fool to pass a chance to teach a boy of such potential. And Jin zongzhu would never admit any relation, so it'll all be fine.”

Lan Xichen let out a deep breath, relieved that things had worked out so well after all. He would have preferred to have Meng Yao in the Cloud Recesses, where he could have watched him closely and made sure he didn't go again down the same path as before, but the Lotus Pier wasn't an awful option either. They'd managed to turn someone like Wei Wuxian into an honest enough man, so they might know how to deal with Meng Yao as well.

Even when Lan Qiren reminded his nephew and Nie Huaisang that they would both be harshly punished for their bad behaviour, Lan Xichen found that he didn't mind, not when there was a good chance they had saved Nie Mingjue's life.

[missanthropicprinciple]

A Tale of Elio and My Fixation with Lovable Androids

TL;DR Feel free to scroll past this unless you’re keen to read my ramblings about androids, Neoclassical art, children’s lit, and bad science fiction movies. 

Since the late 1990s one of my favourite books has been A Tale of Time City (1989) by Diana Wynne Jones. It’s a mildly confusing story but engaging, with memorable characters, including the android Elio, pictured above - my own fan art from a few years ago. Studio Ghibli really needs to make this film if no one does a live-action version, seeing as they brought Jones’ novel Howl’s Moving Castle to life. Here’s a scan of my favourite edition with mesmerizing cover art by Richard Bober.

This book inspired me so much I’ve done research on it. I wasn’t in a class in grad school that allowed me to write about it so I took it on as a casual independent project in 2019. Two days after my dad died of cancer I was scheduled to present my paper on Elio from ATOTC. Needless to say I was not able to finish writing the essay. I told the department coordinator I would likely not attend but I would let him know. He was seriously surprised that I showed up. I must have looked like a ghost - wearing a nice top, skirt, tights, and short heels. I was still in total shock but I thought I might as well press on. My paper’s working tile remains as it was: Elio: Android Autonomy and the Personification of the Sun God. I presented a long bullet point list of working ideas and research done up until that point. My work is still on the broad side because it’s an intersection of young adult fiction, Neoclassic art, and android autonomy; I have some narrowing to do. Here are my main arguments thus far: 

Firstly, the android character Elio’s physical characteristics and personality are inspired by Helios, the Hellenistic Greek god and personification of the sun. Apparently, Elio is a Spanish name meaning sun and also an Italian given name referring to the element helium, originally derived from the Greek name of the sun-god Helios. 

Secondly, Elio and Helios share more than an etymological connection and the comparison of Elio to Helios can be articulated in two distinct ways: the aesthetic comparison, and that Elio possesses some of the qualities Helios is known for. Jones’ work repeatedly associates Elio with sunlight and golden hues, aspects which are exemplified in the 1765 Neoclassical painting Helios as the Personification of Midday by Anton Raphael Mengs. (I vaguely remember translating a couple passages from a large art book written in German when I was studying Neoclassical art.) 

This work is considered an unusual depiction of Helios. Mengs uses a motif of the glowing arrow which is interpreted by François-Xavier Fabre as a symbol of the midday heat and the sun's rays which penetrate and give light to the earth. The representation of the sun in this way is considered unusual for the 18th century because it goes against Classical and Baroque iconography which portrays Helios riding a chariot. Ironically, Jones references this. Elio proclaims his fondness for films, particularly the chariot race from Ben Hur. Elio, like Mengs’ depiction of Helios, lacks a chariot but retains his beauty and powers.

As for Elio possessing some of the qualities of Helios, the god is often referred to as “all seeing” or “Zeus’s eye.” Similarly, Elio has the ability to anticipate problems and see what humans do not, but not because he’s a god, but because he’s a servant. However, this is where his self governing comes into play when he uses his observations to take action beyond any directives he has been given. His physical strength, like Helios, exceeds that of humans. Elio himself says, “my utmost is more than twice that of a born-human” (Jones, 211).

Thirdly, Elio’s self awareness allows him to use both his powers of observation and superior physical strength independent from humans. He does not always wait to be told how to use his power; he wields it. Not only does he play a part equal to that of humans in Jones’ plot, he specifically controls the fates of certain human characters. For example, he doesn’t always utilize his speed when he’s at the beck and call of his master, Sempitern. He makes choices not to fully comply with the demands made of him.

My fourth point, which I can’t quite articulate well, is that the most significant dynamic of this comparison is the body of Elio and how his physicality interacts with his autonomy. Elio acts as an individual who contributes to a wider mythology just as Helios does. Yet, while Elio is superior to humans in many ways, his quasi-humanity allows him to act in ways which align with Helios’ qualities.

For example, Elio makes personal choices and exhibits emotions not necessary for him, as an android, to function. He confesses a desire to harm another android out of annoyance where a passionate opinion would not be expected from an android. This human failing is indicative of the same autonomy which allows him to act as Helios does. Elio has been constructed as a superhuman body in terms of his abilities, however, the human qualities which contribute to his Helios-like powers undermine his intended purpose. 

Ultimately, Elio ascends the usefulness of his “owned” body by acting independently from the humans who utilize him. His human qualities make him vulnerable and therefore he loses some of his godlike powers. Elio, while only an assistant to his human owners, utilizes his own physical and mental powers to maintain his autonomy. Conversely, his god-like qualities make Elio more human rather than affirming his android identity.

This is a very complex subject and I don’t really know where I’m going with it and have possibly made some suppositional errors. TL;DR: What I do know is that Elio presents a paradox: being idealized for his abilities allows him to be autonomous while being autonomous disrupts the servitude of his body.

I am in the process of determining what lens I will use to analyze Elio’s experience and functionality of being an android. I’m thinking about using Alan Turning’s 1950 work Computing Machinery and Intelligence. I’m still navigating the literary theory aspect, or indeed philosophical aspect, of this area of study. 

This brings me to something I came across later that relates to Elio and ATOTC. 

SPOILERS AHEAD

The closest depiction of an android that I’ve seen to Elio other than Data is from a terrible and somewhat forgotten science fiction film from 1989. “Byron”, (played by pre-Jurassic Park-fame Bob Peck) the android in the painfully awful film Slipstream comes very close to Elio in terms of tone, attitude, and characterization. Despite the embarrassingly bad script and dialogue, Peck does a bang-up job, seemingly acting in a wonderful film running parallel to the absolute trash his co-stars were apparently “acting” in. Yes, I rewatched this film just to write this analysis. (The secondhand embarrassment is off the charts and I had it playing at a low volume most of the time Byron was not on the screen.)

When you first see Byron he’s acting out autonomy but you’re not aware he’s an android. The audience is told he’s an escaped fugitive, a murderer, and that’s all we know for over half the film. Yet there are several clues. When you first see him he’s running over rugged terrain in a suit which was kind of a big hint but nothing makes sense in this film so I just thought that it was a weird costume choice. Then he’s literally shot with a grappling hook. He doesn’t seem to be in pain even though he’s shocked by it, and then is pulled down by a bounty hunter named Tasker (Mark Hamill) and hits the ground from a great height and doesn’t die. He just quotes what I think is John Gillespie Magee, Jr.’s "High Flight”: “I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth….and touched the face of God.” Next time you see him, he’s in handcuffs, looking super depressed, and apparently not bleeding out from the now absent grapple hook that’s gone through his forearm. 

He eventually quotes Lord Byron to cryptically indicate his name which is lost on Bill Paxton’s character, Matt. “Byron” essentially means cowshed. It’s ironic because Byron the android is in many ways a receptacle of knowledge. Matt even says sarcastically, “Well aren’t you a walking storeroom of information,” and Byron responds cheerfully, “Yes.” 

Byron breaks out of his handcuffs saying they’d “become rather superfluous.” You think he’s just showing off but once you know he’s an android you know he’s just honest all the time. He then heals a blind child and paraphrases Psalm 127:3. Matt says, “I didn’t know you were a healer.” Apparently Byron can perform cataract surgery in less than five minutes. Along their journey together (Bill is set on collecting the bounty on Byron’s head before Tasker can catch up) they camp out. Byron sleeps with his eyes open. (Even if he is an android wouldn’t his eyes need to be “cleaned” in the same way humans need to close our eyes and blink?) Matt wakes up to find Byron seemingly strangling him. “I was feeling your carotid pulse,” he explains. “I was just checking for arrhythmia and episodes of ventricular tachycardia.” At this point you realize he’s not so much a spiritual healer as a doctor who philosophizes a lot. 

Byron’s miraculous behavior and pontificating is called into question by a nomadic spiritual community which has been torn apart by an attack on their village. As he lays dying, Ben Kingsley’s character calls Byron a “false prophet” but his faith in this stranger is somewhat restored when he says, “all that will be left of me is bits of gold in the sand. You have a soul, do not abandon it in death.” 

Another character says, “The stranger is no mortal man.” Therefore it is clear that Byron likely isn’t human. We don’t find out he’s an android until 46 minutes into the film. Once that’s cleared up, other concepts arise in the script. While not well executed, they are really interesting; emotion both positive and negative, free will, perfection, A.I. slavery, and murder are all addressed throughout the second half of the film. Byron says he doesn’t understand “hate” in context of his “master” to whom he was nurse, brother, father, mentor, and friend, but he admits he was more of a slave than anything else. 

The character Ariel takes an interest in him for a variety of reasons, especially romantically. In one very evocative moment we see Byron in a museum exhibit, a false garden of Eden, full of fake vegetation and taxidermies, full body mounts. So we’ve got an android having an Adam experience. Whether or not he experiences “original sin” with Ariel or if he’s “fully functional” is never acknowledged. Although one woman says, “Amanda slept with a robot?!” (who the f**k is Amanda?!) and a man says to another sitting next to him, “I hear they’re rather mechanical in the saddle.” 

Byron is less concerned with consummation and more excited about love, sleep, and dreaming. When he is with Ariel he doesn’t quite know how to act in terms of sexual play and then apologizes: “I’m not accustomed to being loved.” We see him closing his eyes when he’s cuddled up with Ariel; the next day he is certainly very pleased that he fell asleep with his eyes closed and had a dream. 

In terms of his servitude and autonomy they did not spend an adequate portion of the exposition on it. Matt has a change of heart and says instead of collecting the bounty, he’ll set him free as it’s briefly revealed that Byron killed his “master” upon the man’s request. Naturally, this brings up a lot of confusing feelings for Byron. “Is this what it’s like to be human? I don’t think I’m up to it,” he says. “Can I be trusted with human feelings?” And in a way he cannot. Ariel is brutally shot by Tasker.

Byron is angered over Ariel’s death and follows the bounty hunter to his ship. Instead of taking him in to collect a reward, Tasker tries to run him down with the glider plane. Byron manages to get himself caught in the engine and starts to strangle his assailant. Tasker quotes “touched the face of god” which brings Byron to his senses and he stops killing Luke Skywalker Tasker and tries to save the plane. It looks like he’s going to hot-wire it but then uses the wires like reins (chariot imagery???). They crash into the side of a mountain slope. Tasker dies but Byron survives. Apparently he’s basically indestructible and somewhat godlike. “I’m too dangerous to be human,” Byron tells Matt. In the end, he goes off in search of the place he’d been dreaming about. 

Although in terms of physical appearance the two androids are vastly different, they have so much in common. Here are some basic concepts. 

Character: Both are stoic, formal, intelligent, honest

Indestructible: Byron is injured with a grappling hook, takes a major fall of about 20 or 30 feet without a scratch: he is somewhat godlike or slave-like, meant to withstand destruction and pain. Elio is less indestructible but easily repaired.

Healer: Byron has the skills to heal people with basic surgery. Elio doesn’t take his own injuries seriously and experiences pain for the first time (Jones, 218-9).

Both think they deserve to be punished: Elio states this quite clearly (Jones, 276) and Byron says the same thing about himself with resigned passivity.

Complex relationship with “human emotions”: Both come to terms with violence, anger, and love.

Autonomy: At the end of the film Byron goes off on his own to look for a promised land. Elio decides his own fate by deciding to accompany the children of the story, stating that Vivian is a “particular favorite” of his (278). 

Dreaming and stories: Byron is searching for a place, “where I think I belong,” he says, which is a place he often thinks and dreams about. Dreaming is considered to be a human attribute, a non-essential bi-product to consciousness. Elio enjoys stories and old films (Jones, 180), similarly “human” in nature. 

(Peck, seen here waiting for Bill Paxton to learn how to act. Sorry, I’m salty.)

Disclaimer: This is a work in progress! This project is an intersection of niche subjects that interest no one but myself. 

Anyway, my point is (yes, I did have a point...or rather several) was that if anyone should adapt A Tale of Time City, Byron from Slipstream is the best example of how Elio should be portrayed in terms of characterization. I feel that Slipstream should have been centered around Byron. The film was kind of like, just about the “we’re both fighting over the bounty of this fugitive” sorta thing. It would have made more sense to focus on Byron as he is arguably the most interesting character and represents many of the conflicts within the story. I would like to combine my research on ATOTC and Slipstream one day. In any case, this is a good start. 

Works Cited (WIP) 

Jones, Diana W. A Tale of Time City: Knopf, 1987. Print. Perkowitz, Sidney. Digital People: From Bionic Humans to Androids. Washington, D.C: Joseph Henry Press, 2004. Print.

Roettgen, Steffi, and Anton R. Mengs. Anton Raphael Mengs: 1728-1779 Part 2. München: Hirmer, 1999. Print.

Turing, A. M. “Computing Machinery and Intelligence.” Mind, vol. 59, no. 236, 1950, pp. 433–460. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/2251299. Wilson, Eric. The Melancholy Android: On the Psychology of Sacred Machines. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2006. Print

[voicedaily]

VOICE4 Interview with The Writer, Ma Jiwon

-The impression of successfully ending up to season 4?

I would like to take this opportunity to sincerely thank the viewers who watched Season 4 of 'Voice'. This season seems to be the season where I thought the most about 'how can I make a more developed and meaningful drama?' In addition, after a long deliberation, the ending decided to connect Kwon-joo Kang, Derek Jo and Dong Bangmin from season 4 with the characters Bang Jesoo and Gardness Lee from season 2-3. It was the ending to expand the voice universe until season 5, and I was worried about the reaction inside, but I felt really relieved and grateful that the viewers seemed to have responded. Since the season system is planned over a long period of time, I think that meaningful results can be achieved when all the production crews have a long breathing and run with one mind. In particular, this season 4 is even more precious and grateful because, despite the difficult situation of the COVID-19 pandemic, all the production crew 'considered and communicated' and finished happily until the end.

-What message did you want to convey through Season 4?

Season 4 of 'Voice' took the theme from the crime rate data on the increase in abuse and violence within the family amid the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. In fact, after season 3, family crimes (violence between families, child abuse, etc.) are the most frequent and quiet crimes around us. In particular, I wrote this with a sincere hope that it will be an opportunity to think about the reality of child abuse that occurs frequently recently, but does not get better easily, and to realize that the person we need to listen to the most is our family.

Also, since family crime is a sensitive issue, I thought a lot with the director on how to deliver it to the viewers without discomfort. In the end, I worked on the script with the belief that "if we make it with sincerity, viewers will recognize it," and I think it was realized well thanks to the director's humanistic directing and the actors' passionate performances. In particular, after the ending of episode 14, there were many viewers who recognized the feelings of the production team, so I was really grateful. Thanks to the viewers who listen to what 'Voice' wants to say, I think 'Voice' can continue the season system.

-What did you expect from Song Seung-heon following Jang Hyuk and Lee Jin-wook?

If actor Jang Hyuk and actor Jin-wook Lee were 'symbols of a ruthless macho detective with pain', actor Song Seung-heon has a soft and gentle image, so he is an actor who suggested casting because it fits perfectly with the character of Derek Cho, who does not lose his dignity and pride as a human being and a police officer under any circumstances. In fact, in a meeting before filming, I told actor Song Seung-heon that it could be a tricky character that needs to be attractive while avoiding all the strengths of the male lead character from seasons 1, 2, and 3. In addition, the former child abuse victim who was adopted by the US police is not an easy one.

Nevertheless, actor Song Seung-heon willingly took on the challenge and is sincerely grateful for playing the best detective Derek Joe. In fact, Derek Joe is not a detective who runs blindly in front of the scene, but a person who knows how to comfort people even in the midst of an incident. The action was also expected, but it did so much better than expected. Under the judgment of the martial arts director that Derek Jo, an adopted child born with pain in Korea, would have played a lot of popular sports in the United States, professional wrestling, judo, and Kravma were crafted to subdue opponents in an instant with techniques. do. In particular, I heard that he impressed the scene with his passionate acting that digested a number of actions without a stand-by, such as climbing up the railing on the second floor of the dog kennel without a wire prepared in advance at the time of filming, or collided with a car. I wanted to show that the consideration, sacrifice, and leadership of Derek Cho, played by Song Seung-heon, are the charms of this season's male protagonist.

In addition, child abuse is a crime that is serious enough to say that it leaves a trauma that is difficult to heal, and it is a crime that our society must work together to eradicate. What I ultimately wanted to draw through Derek Cho was a good will to overcome the wounds of the past without being engulfed in the wounds of the past, unlike the people of the East, who became trapped in their own wounds. (The setting to become a principled police officer instead of direct revenge on the adoptive father was also the intention)

-Lee Hana, who is active in the 4th season, must have many things to praise.

Hana below is very clear and warm. Because it contains all the tendencies that a voice profiler should have, there would probably be no 'voice' without Lee Ha-na. Throughout season 4, he is an actor who not only perfectly digests the difficult acting of investigating super-strong cases, giving orders and emotionally comforting without a partner in the center, but also takes good care of the field staff. He shows his affection for the script to the extent that he thinks he is himself the script for 'Voice', and as a writer, I feel grateful and proud. Especially this season, I know that it must have been a lot of mental burden in the beginning because I had to play a villain who is a multi-personality. I was worried when I entrusted the role of a cruel villain to the main character, who has been a just police officer for three seasons.

However, I had a belief that if we were Hana or an actor, we would create a completely different character without compromising the goodness of the main character. When I finally saw the actual video, I was surprised by how well it was digested beyond my expectations. When I saw the reaction of the viewers who welcomed the villain acting of actress Lee Ha-na as 'Dark Kwon-ju', I was amazed that people's eyes are similar. While acting both good and bad roles at the same time, there must have been a lot of hardship, but I want to give a big applause to actress Lee Ha-na, who steadfastly led the 'Voice' without any expression. I would like to take this opportunity to bow my head and express my heartfelt gratitude to the actors of 'Voice', including actress Lee Ha-na, who has been acting unwaveringly in powerful crime scene dramas for several years.

-How did you plan to set up a serial killer with 5 personalities?

The personalities of Dongbangmin, 'Master', 'Center Director', 'Circusman', 'Good Dongbangmin' and 'Boy Dongbangmin' were either the Dongbangmin himself who had been abused by children, or good people who tried to help the Dongbangmin in some way during their lifetime. However, he was unable to help, and he was eventually absorbed into the character of a murderer by a Dongbang man suffering from a personality disorder. This is a common occurrence in multiple personality disorders. The five personalities were also created in part 14 to give reality to the fight between the personalities, as well as a device to trigger an inner conflict between the personalities when Kwon Joo and Derek arrest the people of the East. To protect themselves, the people of the East created the personalities of their victims as vicious criminals, but in the end they were devastated by their personalities.

Also, in Season 4 of 'Voice', the reason for creating multiple personalities and creating multiple personalities is to show that we can all be in danger if we miss the golden time to rescue someone, and the way to prevent child abuse is to show the interest of those around us. There was also I would like to take this opportunity to express my sincere gratitude to actor Kim Yoo-nam, who gave an impactful performance in the role of Seok-gu Eom, a circus man who is the character of the people of the East.

- How was the Dong Bang-min that actor Lee Kyu-hyung digested?

The Dong Bang-min character was a multi-personal character that rarely appeared in Korean dramas. I knew that acting would not be easy, so I had a lot of trouble deciding which actor to join, but I was very happy that the director casted actor Lee Kyu-hyung, who performed the best in plays and musicals as well as broadcasts and movies, and that actor Lee Kyu-hyung was willing to take on the role. . In fact, it would be a lie if I said I had no concerns as a writer while writing a multi-personal villain and watching the process of its implementation. However, through the appearance of clearly throwing (detailed) serious concerns about the script, I was convinced that Lee Kyu-hyung would perform the best (more than the script), and it was great to have time to convey the intentions of the warriors and writers for each character. .

In particular, details such as facial expressions and voices between the personalities were very important, and I was amazed to see that they not only prepared surprisingly perfectly, but also lost nearly 10 kg of weight to give the impression that they could disguise themselves as women, and carefully prepared even the accessories and gait. Actor Lee Kyu-hyung, who has been well-received for his multiple roles in plays and musicals, seems to have clearly demonstrated the true value of a genius actor who changes into a different face in an instant as if he absorbed each personality in Season 4 of 'Voice'. (I was even worried that I might feel too focused on the villain)

And in fact, I heard that actor Lee Kyu-hyung had a wrist fracture ahead of the last episodes 13 and 14. Nevertheless, I was really thankful that I successfully completed the final confrontation scene with actor Song Seung-heon while wearing a pressure bandage. In private, I would like to express my sincere gratitude to actor Lee Kyu-hyung, who has a pleasant relationship with the golden time team.

- About Kang Seung-yoon's casting?

After Han Woo-joo was set up as a 4D cyber agent born in the 90s, he was very happy that actor Kang Seung-yoon said he would do it willingly when he was looking for an actor. It was because I thought that Kang Seung-yoon, an idol, singer-songwriter and excellent actor, would be perfect for Han Woo-joo. And before filming began, he showed his passion for running through the last season of 'Voice', and even the way he was immersed in his favorite field was Han Woo-joo, who was born in the 90s.

The role of providing clues in the right place in the process of arresting a criminal must have been difficult because there were a lot of technical terms in the lines, but I was really thankful that I played while taking advantage of the fun point. I also heard that he brought laughter to the weary on-site staff as a mood maker in the field. In reality, the spectrum is diverse, so it seems that he can handle other strong genres and roles, such as thrillers. I would like to give a generous round of applause to actor Kang Seung-yoon, who not only acted but also participated in the OST called 'Your Voice' with the best singing ability.

-What is the biggest difference from the previous season?

'Voice' always brings the luck of working with the best coaches, but it has the disadvantage that it is not easy to meet the schedule for the next season. As a result, it is difficult to meet a new coach every season and start over from the beginning, but thanks to the coaches, the season with a different color seems to have the advantage of 'Voice'. In Season 4, I met director Shin Yong-hwi, who made genres with strong humanism such as 'Tunnel', and focused on realizing those emotions, such as the pain of victims and why family crimes occur. As I said before, I was very worried about how to deal with the level of family crime. I want to talk about the importance of family, but if it is cruel, the meaning will fade, and that doesn't mean I can't abandon the tone and manner 'Voice' has maintained. In the end, season 4 of 'Voice' worked together under the purpose of differentiating it into a season faithful to detail, emotion and emotion rather than the urgency of real-time pursuit.

In addition, by setting the male lead, Derek Jo, as the opposite of Jinhyeok Mu and Kangwoo Do from the previous season, we tried to create a different (mature) atmosphere in the relationship with Kwon Joo and the Golden Time team. In addition, unlike last season, when team members were involved with episodic incidents, this season only unified the theme of family crime for each episode and developed independently. Lastly, to connect the world view, Detective Shim Dae-sik from Season 1 and Agent Cheon Sang-pil were reunited again in Season 4, and I was very proud and moved by the hospitality of the viewers.

-The best scene this season? Is there an episode you worked hard on the most?

All episodes are precious, but the most elaborate episode seems to be episode 14, in which Dong Bang-min is arrested by Kang Kwon-joo and Derek Jo. As it was an important ending of season 4, it was a sequence that was revised several times. The main actors wearing spring clothes (leather jackets, etc.) in the heat wave and the actors who played the characters of the people of the East were waiting. It was fortunate. Also, the most memorable episodes are 'The Road of the Underworld' and 'The Man in the Rape Field'. It was not easy to write a story because 'The Way the Grim Reaper Lives' is an episode in which a man with paranoia and wild dogs who live in the forest appear. (I also heard from the director that he had a lot of trouble on set, such as mobilizing a portable toilet.) I know that 'The Man in the Rape Field' is an episode with a lot of likes and dislikes, but the perfect performances of actor Jeon Moo-song and actor Jo Jae-ryong, who appeared as father and son, I was genuinely impressed.

In addition, there are lines that were repeatedly mentioned in Season 4 of 'Voice'. 'Because it's a family, you shouldn't be silent'. Due to Corona 19, we are all in a situation where we cannot afford it, but the more this happens, the more we need to look around and pay attention to our family, neighbors, and surroundings.

-What kind of picture do you envision for the next season?

In fact, like season 2-3, season 4-5 was also planned together, so the ending of season 4 implies that the narrative of the character Kang Kwon-ju will begin, and the work is done with the intention of laying out multiple lines about what will happen in season 5. did it right In fact, I think season 5 is the part where the secret of Kang Kwon-ju's hearing, which is the most important story of 'Voice', is revealed and the end of the worldview that continues through seasons 1-5. The story related to the re-appearance of F Child Nursing Hospital, Gardness Lee, Fabre Lab, and Bang Jesu, which will be the basic framework of season 5, is actually conceived to some extent.

However, even the writer does not know the schedule for the new season at all. This is because there are many things to consider, such as the actors' schedules and production conditions. This is an area that cannot be decided by the author alone, and if the production of season 5 is confirmed, detailed adjustments may be made later. One of the driving forces of 'Voice' is that it gained sympathy from viewers through the epic narratives of the male protagonists from season 1 to 2-3. Now, for the first time, Center Director Kang Kwon-ju is leaving the Center. Last but not least, actor Kwon Yul, who willingly decided to appear in the area, came running after finishing filming in another province even though it was midnight, wearing a white suit in the heat, and filming until dawn. I would like to express my gratitude once again for actor Kwon Yul's professionalism and his unchanging love for 'voice'.

-What kind of work would you like to be left behind for your fans?

I was very surprised when the viewers who saw 'Voice' season 4 for the first time heard that they were going to run again from season 1. It was the season when I felt 'this is the power of the season system' again, and I also thought that this would give the drama a longer life. Once again, I sincerely bow my head and thank you. Hope for the rescue of the victims, anger towards the perpetrators, and support for the Golden Time Team are not limited to dramas. In a world desolate with cynicism and disgust, 'Voice' listens to small sounds and leaves it as a drama that shows that humans live with hope rather than anger. If you ask me, I can answer, “That drama is interesting,” and when the next season comes out, I sincerely hope that it will remain as a drama that “I miss you”.

-Any message to the viewers who love the 4th season?

I think communication with the viewers is also important because I know that the 'Voice' season system would not have been made without the affectionate interest of the viewers during the 4th season. While 'Voice' was airing, I would like to reflect the points of sympathy and observation with you, and the points of disappointment, in my work in the future. In the meantime, I would like to sincerely thank you for watching the process of resolving Kwon-Joo Kang, Derek Jo, Golden Time Team, Circus Man, Sonam Village, and family crimes in Season 4 of 'Voice', Vimodo.

SOURCE: chosun.com