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tossawary · 4 years ago

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Chapter 26 “ What You Want” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” quotes and commentary. Not a full list of favorite quotes or full commentary.

Oh, this got so long, though. I was like, “An opportunity to wax poetic about Moshang dynamics and characterization? An opportunity to talk about why my interpretations of Mobei-Jun and Shang Qinghua are Like That? SIGN ME UP.”

【Beginning next mission stage.】

【Death of the Author - Part 2: The Secret Basement of Shang Qinghua.】

【Mission objective: place the Weeper’s Eye on the pedestal.】

Shang Qinghua slowly sits up on his sofa. He stares at the pop-up window for however long it takes his brain to roll over completely.

“I don’t have a fucking basement?” he says finally.

AN: I have been waiting to use “I don’t have a fucking basement?” for months. Also, it’s been years for him, so Shang Qinghua is a little oblivious, BUT I would like to point readers all the way back to some paragraphs from Chapter 2.

Excerpt from Chapter 2: “A Horseshoe Nail”:

Shang Qinghua considers the point loss. What are his excuses character motivations here? Why is his unmerciful System not completely skewering him for this?

He is the servant of a demon lord, Mobei-Jun, the future Northern King, so he has a greater investment than most cultivators in the future of the Demon Realm, so it’s not unreasonable for him to seek out any bastards of Tianlang-Jun without handing the demon baby over to a righteous sect. He’s also a Peak Lord of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, so it’s not unreasonable for him to be interested in any rumors of the whereabouts of Su Xiyan or what happened to her, for political leverage or whatever. The character of Shang Qinghua originally was and still is a spy - on top of being a shameless coward willing to cling to anyone’s thighs and then stab them in the back, in order to stay alive or advance himself.

There are plenty of magical artifacts in this world that might give a power-grubbing weakling like Shang Qinghua an insight into the future. As Peak Lord of An Ding, Shang Qinghua is, in fact, in a pretty good place to get his greedy hands on one of these magical artifacts. Isn’t that what a good spy and overall ambitious snake would do?

Especially a spy serving a demon lord extremely likely to get fed up with him and kill him at some point? While also serving a righteous cultivation sect extremely likely to execute him for eventually betraying them? Of course Shang Qinghua would obviously want to know how to save his own ass from these ticking time-bombs! And how better to save his own ass than shamelessly clinging to the golden thighs of the protagonist, who will one day conquer every other demon lord and all righteous sects?

Following Luo Binghe means being on the endgame winning team!

Shang Qinghua looks over the pop-up window’s numbers over again, in regards to the loss of points. True, how exactly he tracked down Su Xiyan’s half-demon baby when the Huan Hua Palace Master failed is a bit of a plot-hole, but the rest can be easily explained away with a bit of creativity!

Oh, the rest of the cultivation world didn’t know Su Xiyan was pregnant? Well, Shang Qinghua is a slimy, sneaky spy, who would of course guess that a female cultivator might suddenly disappear like that for months-on-end due to a secret pregnancy! And given that Su Xiyan’s reputation had been linked to a passionately self-destructive Tianlang-Jun… Okay, he can feel the anti-fan rage at that mildly sexist line of thinking, but it stands! It stands!

Now, Shang Qinghua just has to… actually decide… whether or not he wants to take the point loss, in order to save the life of his protagonist son’s adoptive mother, Luo Jiahui.

Shang Qinghua, my darling fool of an Author God, your System is listening to the things you say and think.

I have been WORKING here to foreshadow where I’m going with this story. I’m pretty sure that every single endgame plot point has shown up and is now in play in PINTWILF. Shang Qinghua, due to situational awareness, is dealing with too much in-world shit to narrow things down easily, but it’s all there! It will hopefully not seem as though I’m pulling things out of nowhere in the next and final part (Part 4) of this fic.

“This makes me look crazy, bro,” Shang Qinghua complains to the System. “It really does. I already have to be careful about talking to the secret, world-controlling system that lives in my head and this? This is not making me look any more stable! Where did this come from? Where the fuck did I even get it?! ”

Oh, things are coming together in Shang Qinghua’s head and he doesn’t know if he really likes the picture. On one hand, it’s always nice to actually have someone or something to blame for things beyond the fucking System. On the other hand, he really doesn’t know how the fuck he’s supposed to sleep at night with a full-length, polished silver mirror with an ornate golden frame under his house.

AN: Shang Qinghua, have you noticed that you’ve stopped losing points for continuity errors and plot holes? Shang Qinghua, you know that the people in your life have noticed that you know too much. They’ve just decided not to question you about it because you always look like you’re going to faint when they do, then you laugh and change the subject.

But now Shen Qingqiu is on to you and he’s not so easy to shake.

(Plus Shen Yuan! They’re terriers, SQH!)

He turns away from the mirror, only for a second System window to pop up in front of him. Only… the design of this one is different. Familiar, though! It takes Shang Qinghua a second to place it as Peerless Cucumber- as Shen Yuan’s Transmigration System.

【 Users cannot be injured, killed, or trapped inside the looking-glass! The user will not be able to touch or be touched by anything inside the looking-glass! The user will be returned from the looking-glass within thirty minutes, unharmed! A substantial point reward is attached to this bonus mission. 】

“Right,” Shang Qinghua says.

This second pop-up window then shifts colors and is ruthlessly closed before his eyes. Ah, wow, Shang Qinghua kind of feels like he just saw someone get murdered here.

“...How many points?” he asks finally, reluctantly curious.

AN: Having the Systems fight is so much fun. My setup here in PINTWILF has it so that there’s a main Worldbuilding System that does its best to maintain the world, then each transmigrator has their own personal Transmigration System managing their case.

This is so the Worldbuilding System can maintain the world without the presence of transmigrators, and so the personal Systems can potentially follow their transmigrators into another world. All the Systems interact with each other in order to try to manage things and there are... issues.

Look, the thing about simulated (or managed) realities for me is... someone coded the thing (or did some equivalent of coding the thing), and whether or not this thing in question is the world or just the System, if there are multiple entities trying to manage things, there’s going to be fuck-ups. You can’t have two cooks in the kitchen without points where the two cooks get in each other’s way at least a little bit. If there are multiple Systems, then you’re going to have friction, and that friction can be funny.

Inspired by me trying to run two heavy art programs on my computer at once and being like, “Oh, boy, please don’t burst into flames while duking it out in there. Oh, man, you two were NOT made to operate together, huh?”

He knows he’s right when he walks away from some kind of important-looking procession, stepping into the next room at the same time as someone else, who looks directly at him and doesn’t look away. Shang Qinghua freezes in the doorway and doesn’t let himself stare so much as he can’t stop himself.

“Oh, no,” Shang Qinghua thinks.

There’s a man standing in front of him, tall and broad-shouldered, with an ageless youth, but a sharp gaze and no youthful roundness to his features. His curly black hair has been cursorily held back from his face by a golden ornament, but is otherwise loose, and he wears his ornate red and black robes well and correctly, but like a man with a hundred more.

The man flicks a strong hand at the doors behind Shang Qinghua, which slam shut with a bang, like he’s done this a thousand times before.

He smiles unkindly. “Shang-Shishu,” he says, like he’s tasting the title, considering tearing it apart with his teeth. “So it's true. How curious.”

There’s no way for Shang Qinghua to count how many times he’s seen this face before, but he’s never seen it like this. The man looks like an emperor. He looks like a god. The red mark of the Heavenly Demons burns like a crown in the middle of his forehead.

Shang Qinghua takes an unwilling step back.

“What are you afraid of?” the original Luo Binghe says, still smiling. “We’re only talking.”

AN: I tried to make this meeting mirror Shang Qinghua and Luo Binghe’s first scene in Part 3 of the fic, in which we finally meet the Luo Binghe (Shang Qinghua’s nephew) who is going to interact with the PIDW plot.

Excerpt from Chapter 18: “The Inevitable Plot”:

The restaurant is closed when Shang Qinghua lets himself in. The tables in the dining room are still packed up, lit by dim light through shuttered windows, and the only sign of another person are the chopping sounds coming from the brightness of the kitchen. Shang Qinghua stops in the doorway and lets himself stare.

There’s a young teenage boy standing at the counter, thirteen going on fourteen, still not yet near his adult height (taller than Shang Qinghua, a fact he's still not prepared to face), still carrying a youthful roundness to his features. Shang Qinghua has seen him like this a hundred times before: curly black hair tied back, a kerchief covering his head to keep it out of his eyes, a slightly yellowed matching apron neatly tied just the way his mother taught him, and intent on the work in front of him. His hands are quick, the knife sharp and sure, and the movements of food preparation work slide right into each other like he’s done this a thousand times before.

When did the boy get so big? It didn’t happen all at once; it snuck up on them, hiding dastardly in plain sight! Shang Qinghua remembers when his nephew barely came up to his waist. Fuck, Shang Qinghua remembers when his nephew couldn’t walk. What is this? Who allowed time to pass like this?

Luo Binghe scrapes the chopped vegetables off the board and into the basket beside him, before putting down the knife and turning around. He smiles.

There’s no way for Shang Qinghua to count how many times he’s seen that before.

“Uncle,” the protagonist says fondly. “You’re here.”

“Let’s talk,” Luo Binghe calls out, cajoling now. “Stop running and speak to me and perhaps old hurts can be forgiven. All that condonation and betrayal is so far in the past now. This lord can be merciful, Shang Qinghua. Just speak: how many things have you been hiding...?”

AN: This is PIDW Luo Binghe, by the way.

Once I realized I was going to have a room full of fortune-telling devices, I was like... “Ooh! Bing-Ge scene! I should have a Bing-Ge scene!” Because, like, that’s the curse of SVSSS transmigrator protagonists who trip into caring about Luo Binghe, baby!

Shang Qinghua takes some deep breaths to calm his poor, weak heart, and nearly falls to the floor anyway! But he catches himself!

And then a large, cold hand wraps around his arm to steady him. It’s the cold that keeps him from lashing out and probably breaking his own hand. Instead, he looks up, heart still pounding in his ears, into the frowning face of Mobei-Jun.

“Oh, you have the worst timing,” Shang Qinghua breathes.

Mobei-Jun’s expression twitches and he lets go.

“No!” Shang Qinghua chases the hand with his own, catching it before the man can get too far. “My king, I’m so glad to see you! Thank you for finally coming! I have so much to say,” he says quickly. “I-”

Before he realizes that he’s essentially holding Mobei-Jun’s hand for no reason now - ah, now that’s something he never would have dared to do like twenty years ago - and carefully drops it. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the panic still racing through his veins. And then promptly realizes that Mobei-Jun is here. The demon lord is here in this secret basement.

AN: Moshang in this fic is... hmmm... a little weird sometimes, because a lot of it has been happening in the background. A lot of it has been unspoken until Shang Qinghua’s breakdown and until now.

Shang Qinghua isn’t actually as scared of Mobei-Jun in this fic as he is in SVSSS, and I hope that comes across. When he had his breakdown, part of it was fear, but a large part of it was also actually anger. Shang Qinghua was afraid of how the System had changed his life, but he was also angry about this loss of control. Yes, he was terrified of Mobei-Jun because he didn’t know if it was still his Mobei-Jun, which brought lots of old memories and old anger to the surface, in which Shang Qinghua was kind of like, “How dare you think you get to freely touch me after the things you did and never apologized for?”

BUT the status quo in this world, before the World Update, is one in which Mobei-Jun touches Shang Qinghua’s hip without SQH flinching. It’s one in which SQH and MBJ drink and relax together. It’s one in which SQH isn’t afraid to reach out and grab MBJ’s hand, because he misses MBJ.

They’re so close, they just need to actually talk it out.

Shang Qinghua glances at the ladder and the open hole in the floor. “Ah, my king, did you… climb down here looking for me?”

“Yes,” Mobei-Jun answers, looking around with sharp eyes. He doesn’t seem to be very impressed with what he’s seeing. “...What is this place?”

“My, ah, my basement,” Shang Qinghua answers, leaving out the part where he didn’t even know he had one until about an hour ago. The System is determined to make him look like a bit of a madman, huh? “It’s just… just some artifacts and tools. I don’t… I don’t really come down here a lot…”

Mobei-Jun finishes studying the room, then stares at him again, his gaze more piercing than ever.

“The future concerns you this much?” he says.

Shang Qinghua is totally prepared to deny everything, but the phrasing of that cuts off every story he might try to tell. He glances around the room, full of these broken, desperate, stolen things. It’s… reflecting.

“...Yes,” he admits, hoarsely. Then coughs. “I… my king, we should… talk.”

“Yes,” Mobei-Jun agrees.

“But, ah, not here? I don’t… like it here.”

“Yes.”

AN: Mobei-Jun is one of the people who has noticed that Shang Qinghua knows more than he should. And now, thanks to this secret basement, Mobei-Jun has an explanation for why Shang Qinghua knows more than he should!

If you don’t know about the System element, then this basement is actually pretty in-character for the new Shang Qinghua of PINTWILF.

He is so scared of the future. He’s invested in the story now.

Shang Qinghua isn’t surprised at all when the special item speaks again as soon as it’s back in his hand.

Why would it shut up now, after all?

“He has no name but the position he has been promised to, which he may not live to see,” the Weeper’s Eye says, which pulls Shang Qinghua’s gaze back to the demon lord waiting for him. “His father uses him as a tool. His mother is long departed. His uncle wants him dead. He has long known that these broken promises cannot be undone… but he knows new promises may yet be made.”

Mobei-Jun is frowning at the crystal eye in Shang Qinghua’s hand, looking between it and Shang Qinghua’s own eyes.

He’s not dressed-up the same way he was the last time Shang Qinghua saw him - no especially fancy robes or ornaments or jewelry. He looks like himself this time.

“If these ones are not kept, there will be nothing for the nameless man who will be king.”

Shang Qinghua doesn’t move.

AN: I mentioned exploring Mobei-Jun not having a name in the commentary on the previous chapter. I guess that’s my take on PIDW Mobei-Jun... that the man doesn’t really have anything outside of his position. He’s a king, in service to a tyrant, and he’s never going to let anyone in. He’s just... cold... the whole way through. PIDW Mobei-Jun has an icy throne and nothing else.

PINTWILF (and SVSSS) Mobei-Jun has the Airplane version of Shang Qinghua. When Airplane saved MBJ’s life, the System wasn’t making him do it, he made that choice for himself. The System was willing to let MBJ die (and, in my headcanon, be replaced by some ice demon cousin or LGJ). So, MBJ turns around and chooses Shang Qinghua for himself.

Shang Qinghua was like, “No! This character can’t be replaced! You can’t just dress someone else up as Mobei-Jun! You can’t just let the character die! It has to be this man in that role! No one else!”

When Mobei-Jun is coming to talk to Shang Qinghua in this fic, in this moment, he is making this choice for himself, the nameless man who has been promised a position he might not live to see. That’s what the Weeper’s Eye is getting at. If Shang Qinghua doesn’t want to hear the promises Mobei-Jun is will to make him, there might as well not be anything in Mobei-Jun’s future to make him an individual, more than a cold figure acting out a part.

“...Shang Qinghua,” Mobei-Jun says finally. “I will not hurt you.”

Shang Qinghua’s gaze snaps from the crystal eye in his hand, back to the demon lord standing by the exit to this secret basement.

“We will speak,” Mobei-Jun says solemnly, slowly, like someone repeating the lines of a script. “I wish to be understood by you. I have not known how. Yet I must try now… in my own words… and you must listen.”

Shang Qinghua swallows.

The anger - the frustration - breaking through at the end there sounds more like the man he knows. He’s pretty sure that’s meant to be a request, but it sounds like an order.

AN: After their last conversation, Mobei-Jun had a lot of soul-searching to do, and one of the conclusions he came to is that he can’t take anything for granted. He has to made explicitly clear, using words, which is apparently what matters with humans and with this human in particular, everything he feels. He can’t take the risk of continuing to hurt Shang Qinghua by letting the man think that he doesn’t regret hurting him or may hurt him again someday.

He puts the Weeper’s Eye down.

He’s really sick of this thing. He doesn't want to carry it around all the time.

It only tells him things he knows, anyway.

AN: We’ll get into the Weeper’s Eye in future chapters, but it’s... it’s not really a mind-reading device. It kind of is. It is a little bit. But part of the reason it’s so informative here is that Shang Qinghua is holding it and Shang Qinghua actually knows a lot about his characters and the people in his life.

Even the original characters, like Fanli, he knows well. She’s his family. He’s privy to Fanli’s problems through Jiahui and Liu Qingge if nothing else.

With Shen Yuan, he doesn’t know the kid well yet, but his fellow transmigrator isn’t that difficult to read and he’s been where Shen Yuan is.

Shang Qinghua putting the Weeper’s Eye down here is a show of trust of sorts. It’s a way of telling himself to get out of his own head, away from character roles and exaggerated panic, and put himself in the moment with someone he knows and... well... trusts and wants to trust even more.

Shang Qinghua follows Mobei-Jun out of the basement, removing the spiritual seal from the wall, which makes the creepy basement entrance disappear, then replacing the flower that covered it. He hesitantly follows the demon lord back to the main room of his Leisure House. He has no idea how to stand, suddenly, or where to stand.

Mobei-Jun looks very determined.

“So, ah, should we… sit?”

“No,” Mobei-Jun replies, then abruptly says, “Shang Qinghua, you do not have to fear me. I do not wish to cause you any pain. Now or in the future.”

Shang Qinghua stares, wide-eyed.

That’s not… something he ever expected to hear explicitly.

Good! It's good, though! Very good.

It's great, really.

“...Thank you,” he says, stunned. “I don’t want to cause you pain either?”

“You have shown as much. Many times.”

This is probably not the time for an “Yes, I did tell you so” in any form!

Instead, trying to remember all the speeches he prepared while waiting, Shang Qinghua says, “You have too! In your own way! I just… my king, last time you visited was a… it was a very bad day for me. I apologize for my behavior! I was speaking from a place of-”

“Fear,” Mobei-Jun interrupts darkly. “Well-deserved.”

“Ah, well…”

“You believed that I would hurt you, in your state,” Mobei-Jun says.

“I was… it was very a bad and confused state, my king.”

“...You do not trust me.”

Shang Qinghua’s voice dries up on him. He wouldn’t put it that way, exactly! That sounds pretty terrible when said in such a blunt way. They’ve moved past that, haven’t they? It’s more that he trusts different people with different things! He trusts Luo Jiahui to be Luo Jiahui, and Liu Qingge to be Liu Qingge, and Mobei-Jun… to be Mobei-Jun.

AN: Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun got really far without explicitly talking about things, but at some point that stopped cutting it.

“I have hurt you before,” Mobei-Jun says, looking at him directly. “From a place of fear… of anger… of… misunderstanding. I am… sorry for this. I will not do so again. I was wrong to treat you in such a way.”

Shang Qinghua takes in a deep breath… and out again.

Fuck, it feels like his eyes are burning.

“You have my respect,” Mobei-Jun says quietly, urgently, not letting up on getting all of these words out into the open. “You have my regard. You have my trust. Yet I have not shown this in a way that you have understood, so you could not share this. I have demanded your loyalty without being deserving of it.”

“My king,” Shang Qinghua protests, taking a step forward. “I was- I should have said-”

“You did. Many times. In many ways. I did not understand.”

“I wasn’t very clear either-”

“It was my responsibility to be clear. I must be clear now.”

“You’re being very clear now,” Shang Qinghua agrees quickly. If things get any clearer here, if any more of the things they’ve left unspoken get said, his heart won’t be able to take it. “Thank you, my king. It means- thank you."

Mobei-Jun nods. He looks relieved.

AN: I wanted to write a version of Moshang that felt... a little more mature? Shang Qinghua has developed a lot in this fic. He has grown as a person. And Mobei-Jun has seen this growth over the years.

Mobei-Jun has also been able to see into this Shang Qinghua in a way that wasn’t available in SVSSS canon. I think that SVSSS Shang Qinghua was locked the fuck down. I think he was almost completely inaccessible and offered very, very few openings for connection.

But in this universe, Mobei-Jun actually knows a lot more about Shang Qinghua. He knows what motivates Shang Qinghua. He knows that Shang Qinghua is a doting uncle and a doting older brother. He knows that Shang Qinghua has come to care for his sect. He knows that Shang Qinghua is intelligent and resourceful and funny. They drink together and talk politics! Mobei-Jun knows that Shang Qinghua is loyal and tired and trustworthy.

So... there was an opening here that didn’t exist in SVSSS canon.

And Mobei-Jun took it.

Shang Qinghua knows that cultural differences are a hell of a thing here, but everything being understandable in hindsight didn't make it not fucking hurt. It still hurts, even finally having the apology he never thought he'd get.

"...We’ve been pretty bad at understanding each other, huh?”

“It has often seemed as though we were not meant to meet,” the demon lord says softly.

Shang Qinghua, who can't imagine getting through his transmigration experience without meeting this man, thinks over all the unknowing irony in that statement.

"...Maybe."

“The differences are… significant.”

Shang Qinghua laughs, almost disbelieving. “That’s a word for it!”

"But not impassable."

"Ah… I… hope not."

AN: I’ll probably make a separate post for this, but I love Moshang transmigrator reveals. Bingqiu transmigrator reveals are mostly about the Abyss, which is great, because that needs clearing up. MOSHANG transmigrator reveals are like, “My weak human husband is a god???”

Also love it when MBJ is like, “Yes, this makes sense.”

“I have never known what you have wanted from me,” Mobei-Jun says next, like a confession. “Your life, you have said, time and time again. Though I am only alive by your grace. You demand none of what you deserve of me.”

“...I don’t think ‘deserve’ is a good word for this,” Shang Qinghua says, which probably isn’t the right thing to say, but he’s really too stunned to come up with anything better. He really didn’t prepare for the right conversation here. “Aha, sorry, my king. It’s just… I don’t think I like to think about it in terms of ‘owing’ anymore. Between us. At least… not like some sort of strict balance? I do something nice for you, you owe me. You do something bad to me, I get to hurt you. Not… not like that.”

Mobei-Jun thinks about it.

“Sorry, I don’t really know what I’m saying-”

“You are deserving of better than what I have given you,” Mobei-Jun insists, determinedly. “I do not understand you. I have never understood you.”

Shang Qinghua feels the same way.

“But I would like to,” Mobei-Jun says next. “I would if you would allow it.”

AN: Mobei-Jun is only alive because Shang Qinghua saved him and he knows it! And Shang Qinghua has never made the demands he should have made, having that kind of leverage over Mobei-Jun!

I’ve always wondered if this is deeply romantic by demon standards. Like, not inherently romantic. But I would bet that Mobei-Jun really likes the idea of a relationship where no one is keeping score... no one is granting favors to use like a leash of obligation... no one owes the other things they don’t want to give. I would bet that Mobei-Jun really, really likes the idea of a relationship where affection is freely given because the people in it want to give it.

He does feel as though he owes Shang Qinghua, but I think Mobei-Jun likes the idea that his favor is his to give just because he wants to give it.

Mobei-Jun lifts a hand, slowly, and holds it out.

Shang Qinghua thinks about it.

He thinks about it again.

He reaches back and puts his hand in Mobei-Jun’s own, which is as cool to the touch as always, and moves over his skin carefully. His hold is so light that Shang Qinghua could break it without any issue at all.

They stay there, like that, looking at each other.

Looking at their hands, holding without hurting, after everything. It's such a small gesture.

It feels kind of like a miracle.

AN: I am... a huge fucking sucker for Mobei-Jun holding Shang Qinghua waaaaay too lightly because he won’t risk hurting Shang Qinghua again. Like, this man is going to take it from the top. No more assumptions.

“What do you want, Shang Qinghua?” Mobei-Jun says, voice turning up at the end, in the closest thing that the man might ever come to helplessness. “What do you want from this?”

“I…” Shang Qinghua wipes at his burning eyes with his free hand. This is kind of pitiful. “Fuck.”

Mobei-Jun lifts his free hand and uses his own sleeve to wipe at Shang Qinghua’s tears, like his robes aren’t important to him at all. “Ask,” the man says, in the tone of a promise. “You do not have to fear the future. Anything I have to give is yours.”

Shang Qinghua gives up on trying to speak and just moves forward to bury his face in Mobei-Jun’s chest. Fuck it. The demon lord who was supposed to kill his character lets him do it. Mobei-Jun holds on to him, arms heavy but still so careful, the man’s chest moving in a sigh that sounds like relief.

This really was too many unspoken things to finally say aloud all at once.

AN: So, yeah! That’s what I’m been building up to with the Jiahui/Qingge marriage and the Qijiu fights and makeup, getting Shang Qinghua to think about what he wants from his relationship with Mobei-Jun. Luo Jiahui and Shen Qingqiu have basically been throwing the question at him repeatedly: “What do you want from this life, Shang Qinghua?”

Because it can’t all be plot! You’ve taken your family for yourself, but you can have more than that! You’ve made so many choices already... you can take this last step and make this choice too. Let Mobei-Jun in.

A lot of Moshang plots end up being “Shang Qinghua’s inability to communicate versus Mobei-Jun’s inability to communicate”. Which is great! That’s Moshang! And some external issue (a rival demon lord, Linguang-Jun, etc.) will end up being the secondary plot which acts as a scenario pusher for the primary plot of the Moshang relationship. Again, great stuff!

But since the romance isn’t the focus of this fic, I decided it would be fun to have a more “Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun versus the problem” take. (Which also shows up in lots of Moshang fics! Definitely not exclusive to this fic at all!) I’m looking forward to having Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun actually try and tackle problems together, as a couple, inside the main “Family of Choice” plot.

Which isn’t to say that Moshang have totally worked out their relationship here. They have only just gotten together. Mobei-Jun still has issues. Shang Qinghua still has many issues. They’ve got a lot to work out together. They’ve never been in a relationship like this before and there’s a lot of people out there who would object to their relationship! Their relationship is going to continue to grow as the fic continues. They’re going to have a few bumps in the road.

But I really like the idea of Mobei-Jun being Shang Qinghua’s rock in this fic. This man has been so stressed. He needs a hug from his ice demon boyfriend who can soothe headaches with a hand.

When Shang Qinghua feels like he has himself more under control, he draws back just far enough to say, “My king, will you kiss me?”

Mobei-Jun’s expression is already soft, at least by his standards. His gaze turns hooded before he leans down as Shang Qinghua leans up. Shang Qinghua takes the man’s face between his hands to kiss him. It feels nice, if uncertain, with the hunger of something a long time coming at the end of it. There's years worth of wanting in this.

It has been so fucking long since Shang Qinghua kissed anyone.

He breaks the kiss and has to stifle laughter, clinging to the front of Mobei-Jun’s robes, which the man never closes properly, so now Shang Qinghua is never going to be able to not thinking about touching it. It’s a very nice chest to touch. He knew it would be.

Mobei-Jun’s brow furrows slightly, his hands staying on Shang Qinghua’s hips.

“What?”

Ah, sorry! Sorry, my king! It’s just- this is such a ridiculous detail to get stuck on, but your lips are kind of cold? I’ve, ah, I’ve always kind of wondered,” Shang Qinghua confesses quietly, without really meaning to actually say it. Holy shit, he’s going to blame saying something like this after that on the fact that he’s had a very long and very weird day. “Sorry. I'm really tired. It's fine. It's good.”

Mobei-Jun snorts and kisses him again, as if to say, “Deal with it.”

AN: Cute! Mobei-Jun likes it when Shang Qinghua laughs. I stand by this.

#tossawary svsss #tossawary commentary #pride is not the word #moshang #mobei jun #shang qinghua

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nostuntmanneeded · 4 years ago

Note

I’m starting to get worried that fan’s reactions to AO is having the opposite effect they’re hoping it would.

The latest example, this past week a photographer was bombarded with so many negative comments on a picture he posted of an old photo shoot with her that he had to delete the post.

I saw so many accounts celebrating this as a victory but in reality I felt that this might be getting out of hand.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not excusing her past and continued actions. I’m not a fan of hers, I think an apology from her is long overdue but to bombard a third party that has nothing to do with her fiasco is not helping. I feel like it’s only helping to make her look like the victim to everyone who may not be up to speed on all the CA, baiting and passive aggressive mocking she has exhibited towards Sebastian’s fans all while making the fans look psychotic.

My biggest fear is that she is looking like the poor little victim in HIS eyes and it’s only helping her sink her claws further into him.

I think that the combination of her playing poor little innocent and his frame of mind lately - having just come off of playing Tommy Lee [who is notorious for not giving a rats ass about anyone or anything] may make it so that he may be inclined to lean more towards her.

We have seen the steep decline in his interactions, which I don’t blame him for to be honest. Especially since any and every post gets this kind of reaction from the ardent AO opposition.

I think people should stay on topic and argue the valid points, we all know there’s plenty she should be held accountable for.

I don’t know, I just don’t want him to do something hasty. I don’t even want to type it, out of fear that it could manifest.

It’s just that Sebastian has always struck me as the kind of guy to rebel against the slightest insinuation he shouldn’t do something. I call it the - Tell me I can’t do something and I’ll do it twice and take pictures type of attitude.

And well she, she is a classic Mosquita muerta. Which is Spanish for A person who pretends to be innocent, dainty, and weak (hence a dead fly), but they are actually evil backstabbers. Essentially a spanish version of a "snake in the grass." They are extremely manipulative and will have everyone fooled by their game except for the smart ones. They will usually try to make the ones who don't fall for their game look like bad people while they play the victim.

This was an interesting take.

I don't think it was fair for the photographer to get bombarded with hate comments, as he was just doing his job, but I also think it's a lesson that you cannot do problematic things and expect to get away with it.

I also believe the people who were commenting on the photographer's photo were more associated with "cancel culture," which is different from holding people accountable (in my opinion).

I think the reason why Sebastian seems to be "giving into it" is because he's tied to a contract, so he can't really do or say anything about it.

I do see her playing the victim card, though.

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pm-my-hubbies · 5 years ago

Text

Best Years | R.C.

Requested by @imawreckandiknowit

Pairing: Rafe x Female!Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warning: a bit of angst with fluff

Song Prompt List

You've got a million reasons to hesitate

But darling, the future is better than yesterday

I wasted so much time on people that reminded me of you

Gave you a million reasons to walk away

Of all the moments I envisioned for myself, Rafe Cameron climbing through my bedroom window with sweat slicking that forehead of his was an image I never conjured. He radiated confidence whenever and wherever, never seeking out help because he believed it was for the weak. However, he stood before me after pleading for my hand in an idea I’ve constantly tried to push to the back of my mind.

I’m in love with him. I could take the leap forward but everything we’ve been through prevents me from doing so. That one brief period between us, the one time we did give intimate moments a shot had been ripped away from me. He was quick to move on as I sobbed in my shower for months until the water ran cold of slithering down my back. Yet... I remained close to him.

I stayed by his side through all three relationships, patting him on the back to ease his pain. In reality, I was breaking inside because his tears for other girls confirmed his love died for me. Now, he stood before me claiming the opposite.

“You could’ve walked away.” His voice broke the tension before us after his first set of words. “But you didn’t. Why?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know R—”

“Don’t give me that Y/N.”

“Then don’t ask stupid questions. You know why I didn’t walk away Rafe and I’m not gonna say it.”

He only stared, confirming what I knew to be true. “You’re right. I can’t play dumb.” He dragged himself over to my bed and placed himself on the disheveled sheets with his head hung low. “The answer finally came to me today. The whole time, I built up this image that you had moved on and you were done with me. It was my fault we ended things back then. So, I chased after every girl that reminded me of you and when we ended things... it hurt.” He picked his head up, gazing into my eyes with watery ones. “They walked away with your traits and I felt like that was all I had left of you.”

I couldn’t watch him eat himself away anymore with the memories he had to relive. My legs climbed his sitting frame, straddling both sides of his body. “Rafe, why did you do it?”

“I felt like I wasn’t ready.” He answered, his hands sliding up my waist. “Yes, I have all of the money in the world to give you. But I felt like I wasn’t on your level yet. You’re smart, sweet, unique. You’re everything a guy could want and I wasn’t that yet.”

His thumb moved up to swipe my cheeks. I watched him remove it from where they were to see a clear liquid caught under the moonlight peeking through my window. God, I can’t be seriously crying.

“That’s not your decision to make, Rafe. That’s my own. I decide if we’re the right match and... I honestly thought we were perfect for each other. We balanced one another out. I missed that.”

“I know, I do too. And I’m sorry for just everything I’ve put you through.”

“I’m still here right?” I acknowledged with a gentle smile.

“You are. And I don’t wanna leave you again. I wanna be right here. With you.”

But I'll build a house out of the mess and all of the broken pieces

I’ll make up for all of your tears

Pictures I’d long forgotten in the comfort of my attic polka-dotted the walls in the tiny living room. Two currant red sofas protected a wooden coffee table standing in the middle with issues of my favorite magazines spread out on the surface. The stand beneath the flat screen consisted of Rafe’s and my Blu-Ray favorites, as well as the dust-free PS4 and brand new PS5.

“So, what do you think?” Rafe questioned from behind. “Do you like it?”

Once upon a time, this apartment reeked of Rafe Cameron. He was a man that only spoke for himself and never me. But now, since we’d been taking things slow the past couple of months, he flipped the switch to assure me this place was now ours.

I belong here, is what he wanted to inform me. He’s not the best with words to tell me I have a place in his life. So, his actions spoke for himself.

I swiveled on the balls of my feet to grin at him with love coating my eyes. “I love it.

I'll give you the best years

Past love burned out like a cigarette

I promise, darling, you won't regret

The best years

Beth from Chem was back in town. According to the locals, it was rumored she’d regretted ending things with Rafe and was back to whisk him into her arms. They’d even went as far as informing her that he was now with me (and more than likely for good) but her stance didn’t budge.

Currently, we were throwing daggers at one another. She’d been trying all night to gain the attention of my boyfriend through initiating the conversation or offering to be his team mate for beer pong. Truthfully, it was embarrassing to watch as Rafe shot her down every time and the eyes on the onlookers shifted to one another in amusement. We all knew her motives.

“Stop looking like that, you’re gonna form wrinkles.” the man of the hour chastised me with a shake of his arm as it was looped on my shoulders.

“I can’t help it when your ex is the one who started it.” I answered, gritting my teeth.

“Who?”

“You know who.” I slapped his arm.

Seeing him chuckle phased me. The old Rafe would’ve hopped at the opportunity of some girl ogling him, especially if the girl happened to be a previous fling. When we were friends, he’d slip away to take care of business with the young woman and I’d watch from afar with longing eyes, wishing I were the one he chased for the evening. Even when we were briefly together, I could feel his hesitance in wanting to stick around but the dumb me pushed it aside for selfish and desperate reasons. This new guy that clung to me like a koala hugging a tree pulled me closer to plant a kiss on the crown of my head.

“I know baby. But I’m not going anywhere. And she can try all she wants but it’s not happening. Not now, tomorrow, or ever.

“Just you and me?”

“You and me.”

I wanna hold your hair when you drink too much

Carry you home when you cannot stand up

You did all these things for me

When I was half a man for you

I wanna hold your hand while we're growing up

As I hacked the contents of the evening into the toilet, Rafe’s hands grabbed my hair to pull it into a makeshift ponytail. His free hand rubbed soothing circles into my hunched back. Embarrassment ran through my body at the sight of him having to see me like this.

Once I was sure I was finished, he aided me in standing to my feet to cleanse my mouth of the harsh taste. His hold on me remained even when I placed my orange toothbrush inside my mouth.

I spit some of the toothpaste into the sink. “That was fucking embarrassing.”

“Really Y/N?”

“What? I’m just saying. I don’t want you to see me like that. Ever again. I’m not drinking that much anymore.”

He didn’t say anything. His mouth was a thin line and his eyes observed me from the mirror as I finished my business of cleaning my mouth. Before I could exit the bathroom, his arm jutted out to halt my movements.

“Look at me.” He commanded in a soft but firm tone. I did as instructed. “You’re gonna be sick and I’m gonna do the same thing. You’re gonna probably go back on your word and drink that much again and guess what? I’m still gonna be there.”

“Rafe—”

“No Y/N. Look: you took care of me when I wasn’t shit back then. I barely looked after you as a friend and as a boyfriend. I’m here now and I’m repaying you for all you did for me. I’m doing what I should’ve done back then. Do you hear me?

I nodded. “I hear you.”

“Good. Because I’m here for the long run baby. I’m gonna do all the shit like holding your hair when you throw up for as long as I live.”

I'll give you the best years

Past love burned out like a cigarette

I promise, darling, you won't regret

The best years

I'll give you the best years

The sun caught the diamond ring on my finger at the right angle, along with the wedding band underneath it. With my other hand, I snapped a shot of the sight with my phone.

“Never thought I’d see you doing that.” Rafe snickered from beside me.

“Can you blame me?”

“Nope.” He answered, popping the ‘p’. “Honestly, it makes me feel like I’m doing something right. I feel like for you to take a picture of something like your hand, it means a lot.”

After sharing the picture to my Instagram, I faced my husband in the lawn chair next to me. In his arms, he held our sleeping bundle of joy who hadn’t released his fathers fingers from the moment he picked him up for nap time.

“Everything you’ve done and continue to do for me means a lot, Rafe.” I replied. “If you haven’t figured out by now, my constant tears express how much I love you. Whether it be cooking a special dinner for me or taking Y/S/N out of my arms after a rough day, I’m crying because it means a lot that you’re looking out for me.”

He leaned over, tightening his hold on our son to lightly kiss me on the lips. “What can I say? I promised you the best years and you’re getting it. Until death do us part.”

OBX supporters (taglist): @jjmayybank @princezukohere @teenwaywardasgardian @jarritoswhore @ethereal-honeygold @pink-meringues @thecurlsofgod

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe cameron x female!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey x female!reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x reader #outerbanksedit

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heyitsyn · 5 years ago

Text

Papa Bye-Bye!

Dad!Yahaba Shigeru

a/n: i know its a later update but i still made it, didn’t i?

Yahaba Shigeru:

"ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴅᴀʏ"

papa shiggie can’t believe his baby boys are already starting school

word count: 1.2K

(twins)

son: yahaba ryujin

son: yahaba raijin

shigeru was pacing back and forth in your living room while you were helping the twin boys get ready for their first day of school. even after the long talk full of reassurance from you, he still can’t help but feel worried not only for the safety of his boys but for the fact that they were doing his biggest fear: growing up.

it is no secret to everyone you knew and who knew you that your husband was absolutely smitten by his twins and it seems he breathed and lived everyday just to see them. despite you knowing he loved you, you can’t help but think that he loved his children more and to be honest, you can’t exactly blame him.

yahaba raijin and yahaba ryujin are the light of your lives.

not even a year into your marriage, you were already expecting and the surprise of having not only one, but two, doubled the shock. after many years of being together-having started the relationship at your second year-you knew shigeru’s desire of having children, more specifically, a son. so you can imagine his happiness inside the ob’s clinic after learning of the gender of his twins and let’s just say, you weren’t shocked when your husband fainted.

his still-round brown eyes settled on the picture frame on your corner table and if he wasn’t already crying, he was about to start now. the picture was of the 4 of you in the hospital room when the boys were born and the exhaustion was evident in both of your eyes. but it was such a happy and special day. a day that made him a father.

and he cannot believe 6 years has passed.

‘shiggie, can you help me look for ryu’s socks?’

you called from the bedroom upstairs and when he didn’t reply, you told the boys to stay still and peaked your head out of the door.

‘shigeru! darling!’

finally, shigeru jolted out of his reminiscing and he ran up the stairs and into the first bedroom on the right.

‘what-what’s wrong?’

he worriedly asked, thinking something happened, but you giggled.

‘oh, darling. you’re stressing yourself out. come, we can dress the boys together’

‘papa! papa! lookie!’

raijin’s loud voice, which he inherited from his father, pointed to his doggie-print socks and wiggled his toes to emphasize his excitement. shigeru got even more sad as those were the same socks that were gifted to him for his birthday by his godfather. speaking of which, their birthday is coming up in a few months.

‘they’re really nice, aren’t they, rai? should we take a picture and send it to uncle kenta?’

the little boy nodded excitedly at his father’s offer and proceeded to pose while his other half was being comforted by you.

‘mama, don’t wanna go. wanna stay here with rai and mama and papa’

judging by the shake of his voice, a sob was threatening to come out and you frantically cupped his chubby cheeks.

‘ryu, it’s okay. mama is right down the hall and if you miss papa, we can call him! he doesn’t have work today’

but that didn’t make him feel better and instead made him cry out.

‘noo!!!’

he sobbed and you met the eyes of your husband, who was now finished taking his pictures, and you passed off the crying boy. shigeru gently cradled his son and ran his hands through his silvery-brown hair to help calm him.

‘oi, ryu, why are you crying, hm? is it because you’re going to school? yeah, i understand it but school is really cool, you know? you can make new friends there and you’d still have rai with you’

‘eung! i’ll be with ryu! always! pinky promise! rai loves ryu!’

your youngest son, raijin, was the more outspoken one while his older-by-8-minutes-brother, ryujin, was the more timid and emotional one. this is why he is always the first to cry and easily bawls his eyes out but to counter him was his brother with his bright and outspoken personality. thankfully, ryu listens to rai and he instantly fades into hiccups by the simplest reassurance and a hug.

so ryu stopped his tears, left with only teary e/c eyes, and he looks over to rai, who was hugging you, before nodding.

‘ryu love rai, too’

he mumbled out and shigeru had to close his eyes before taking a deep breath so as to not scare his sons by his squeals.

you saw your husband contain himself so you hurriedly ushered everyone out to be able to get to school on time. of course, ryu moved sluggishly, as if he was trying to stay in the house longer, while rai was running around to grab his shoes and backpack and grabbing both of their lunch boxes from the island.

‘here ya go, ryu! want me to tie bunnies on your shoes?’

the older brother nodded shyly so rai hurriedly sat on the floor and started tying the shoelaces of the bright blue shoes.

you and your husband were standing off to the side by the door with a fond smile and warm hearts. your eyes looked up to his and you sadly chuckled before rubbing his arm.

‘they’re growing up aren’t they?’

he whispers and you stopped then nodded.

‘yes, they are, darling’

your words confirmed it and he sniffled to try to keep the tears at bay. he reached down to grab your hand and squeezed it for comfort.

‘i’m so scared. maybe it’s the thought of them eventually not needing me anymore or something but i’m terrified’

he admitted and you understood his fears because duh, they were your sons too.

‘you know, you used to make fun of kyo for crying when he sent off naomi and naoki to school but look at you now’

you tried to make him laugh and it kinda worked since he did giggle. then it settled for a sad smile.

‘he told me it was a unique type of feeling. a new type of fear. not the childish ones like spiders, or the dark, or sharks. no, it isn’t a fear that anybody can have unless they have their own children. no amount of spiders or sharks can equal this because you don’t know fear unless you’ve watched your child grow each day. every passing day was taken for granted until reality decides to throw it at your face’

oh, dear.

it’s been quite a while since you’ve heard him talk so earnestly and you remembered him talking like that during his last volleyball practice and him passing his title for captain to little kunimi akira.

it all revolved around the same topic: growing up.

so as shigeru drove you all to the kindergarten, he kept taking glances to the rearview mirror to simply watch rai giggling and ryu not being able to help but also laugh due to the infectious noise. it is a sound that shigeru loved.

you were beckoning the boys to follow you inside of the gates after saying your goodbyes to your husband and their father but ryu stopped. rai was already ahead but he also sensed that his twin wasn’t beside him so he stopped as well and backtracked back to him. the adorable shy child turned around and with teary eyes, he waved. shigeru’s own tears gathered but finally fell when rai held on to his brother’s other hand and waved to him too. however, he had a large grin showing off the lost front tooth.

‘papa, bye-bye!’

rai shouted and ryu nodded too.

‘pa, bye’

he tearfully added but shigeru could hear it, having developed a sensor for the voice of his soft-spoken son.

no, this isn’t a sad goodbye.

rather, it’s a joyous one.

because as much as shigeru hated watching his boys grow up, he was happy and excited to be able to see the great people his boys would become.

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theivanteru · 5 years ago

Text

My two cents on the whole AOA situation.

This is going to be long, I’m sorry.

I’ve seen lots of people sharing their thoughts and opinions on this matter so I thought I would do the same...I think I actually needed to do this.

I, for the time being, cannot listen to their songs, I don’t want to...and yeah it kind of hurts, I know I’ll be able to later and i think I will still like the songs because they are good.

I was so interested in AOA even before their debut, I saw all the teasers, and I’ve kept track of them as a fan since then, they even were my favourite group for a while.

Learning that this whole situation began ten years ago was heartbreaking because it was even when they were trainees and nobody knew them, they still chose to debut like that (all of them). It really shows how the mindset of any person who wishes to debut can be, and gives a new light into how devious and dark the kpop world can, sometimes, be.

In any situation, bullying is horrible and we should not stand by it. But us regular people have it easier. That’s why I think that taking care of yourself and your dreams or goals by not participating is valid and, specially in the kpop industry, is probably more common that we think. Even outside, I cannot judge people who don’t intervene or defend other because, while I’ve had the chance to help others being bullied and even stopped it, I’ve also lived situations where helping was not an option and even where I chose not to. I think it’s part of society and human nature to have this duality and it’s even more intelligent to think how can you help the victim, instead of attacking the bully.

On the other side,bullying (in early stages) takes two roles (bully and victim) Most people get to choose who they are and wether they are going to let it happen or not, whatever you choose, you should accept the consequences.

I’ve been picked on (never physically fortunately) for different resons since my childhood, sometimes I defended myself, sometimes I didn’t, sometimes I chose to ignore and sometimes I chose to respond. Some memories hurt still, but I’m ok, I was back then and now I can see how processing them made me stronger now. That is not the case for lots of people.

That being said, and sorry for rambling, I’m really glad Mina spoke about it, she needed to release it, I do believe everything she said and I actually find it not surprising 8which is even more heartbreaking). However I definitely don’t think it was the right, clean way to do or even healthy for her.

I think this bullying situation should be solved between Mina, Jimin and the real professional authorities (doctors, lawyers, police) even mabye the company since they let the situation happen (which is sad how not surpising it is). If Jimin bullied anybody else, then it’s a problem between them specifically.

Just a few days back she posted a picture of her wound, made believe that it had just happened and then cleared out that it was from months back, was it necessary? To me, that post and what she said in it didn’t help her situation, not did it affect Jimin anymore...Honestly I don’t blame her for doing that but then again, to some, she ends up looking unstable and chaotic, and with the experiences she lived she probably is.

As for us (the fans) and regular people and netizens and whoever followed her shouldn’t have a say in the matter, we weren’t there and we’ll never be...we really don’t know. I honestly think we should limit ourselves to support Mina or whoever you want to support or believe without involving the other parties and doing justice for them, we’re not saviors nor we should try to be. We are fans, our job, if we even have one, is to support and thats all.

Something that really makes me mad is that I’ve seen videos incriminating others and clickbaiting to sound dramating...I know that’s how it works and thats why I hate it, it really makes us biased and suddenly we’ve lost the ability to think and reason, we’ve become sheep to a title,a perspective and even more so the person that wrote it.

There’s a reality but the perspective depends on the person who is living it, they are ALL VALID so...

As for Jimin...I’m glad she left, it was the healthiest option for her. I don’t see her promoting ever again and maybe it’s for the best, an example for others to think better before bullying.

I just cant empathize with bullying in general, but even more so with someone who shares your goals, dreams, and is even an important part of the team that was given to you in order to achieve success. I don’t understand what made her do something like that, specially as the leader of the group and a person who is talented, why waste all of yourself on something that is so obviously wrong.

I still don’t think she is a monster who needs to be vanished from existence though so I hope she reflects a lot, gets the treatment she needs, pays her due and comes out a better person, for her and the people that will surround her in the future.

As for the other members... IMO they are not the same or worse that a bully.

They made decisions that now have consequences but I don’t think badly of any of them, I hope they continue to be great, grow up as a person, can be happy and succeed in whatever they choose to do from now on. I completely disagree when people say that they are worse for not helping...we don’t get to choose how someone should have acted, we don’r know how the other members lived the situation.

Mina. I hope she feels liberated and better, I’m gald she is now receiving treatment and I hope she never has to experience something like that again and maybe uses her experience to help others and become a better person herself. I believe her, but no more than limit myself to believe that that is how SHE lived and felt it, it’s her truth and it’s valid. I hope she gains strength to defend herself better in any situation needed and get the happy life she deserves.

I’m now glad Choa and Youkyoung left when they did, let’s remember they knew about this cause of the time frame, but they left. If they were bullied, just unconfortable, had their dreams change, tired, left out, wanted to or they chose to leave as we “officially know” thats what they chose and it was the best option for them, I applaud them and hope they are happier and successful now. IMO, to end bullying sometimes it’s better to remove yourself from the situation before trying to change the bully. Maybe unfair, yes; but I think it’s healthier, brave, strong and maybe even mature as (I believe), you get to take the bully’s streght from them while you can get better and use it to do something else, or the same somewhere else.

Mina said that Seolhyun never once joined Jimin in the bullying, she didn't stop her and was a bystander for that, while still (generally) wrong I think she chose that to be safe, and in that industry I can't blame her for that. I actually think it’s possible that Seolhyun chose to be Jimin’s friend to avoid that scenario with her, or maybe she saw another side of her, she knows her truth and will grow from this scenario. I wish only good thing for her too.

As for Chanmi, she’s always been my favourite. Mina said that she did nothing even when she herself was being scolded cause she's/ was too young and she’s also believed to have been bullied as well, I believe this as well and it was her defense mechanisim, not only Jimin but probably the managers, antis and company staff. She worked hard and will definetly grow from this, I hope she succeeds and gets to be happy and safe.

Yuna is, not surprisingly either, probably the member who is been talked about the least, Mina said she cherised her well but was to afraid to act which makes sense. I don’t see Yuna as a problematic person and I hope she succeeds, gains strength and confidence to become better, as well as the others.

Lastly, it was said by Mina that only Hyejeong said something to Jimin sometimes and that all the others were either too afraid or not participating at all. I really admire Hyejeong for that and hope she continues being strong and making her dreams and goals come true.

Them I like, I still do. I know I say not to judge but I can’t dislike them not even blame them. With that little information I have on the matter and the context of behind the scenes of kpop I’ve learned, I understand why everyone acted the way they did.

The real truth, only the girls know (each their own) and it should be something they (all of them) sort out with professionals, individually and between themselves.

I wish they were taken care of better, that they were treated better so that this never had to happen. This I blame on the peson that chose and for some reason needed to bully her members but MORE IMPORTANTLY I blame it on the companies who treat their trainees and artists badly or just see the money they can get. They forget (and sometimes we followers do too) that they are people, humans chasing their dreams and sacrificing a lot to do it, even their lifes.

The kpop world is awesome sometimes but it can really suck and be so toxic.

Thinking about this, most groups, probably, have cases like this, I think real friendships in groups are rare TBH and thats fine, they are a team, coleagues and that´s all that matters...If they happen to become friends all the better, but thats not necessary to me anymore.

Today I choose to believe that for every group I follow. And really, I choose to just limit myself to support and enjoy their personas (as in who they are on screen) from afar. What happens behind is only theirs to bare.

If you read this, thanks...I just needed to get this out of my chest to let it go. If you agree, I’m glad and if you don’t thats fine too.

#AOA #elvis #mina #seolhyun #yuna #choa #chanmi #hyejeong #youkyoung #y #jimin #kpop #fnc entertainment #scandal #bullying #ace of angles #opinion

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micahammon · 4 years ago

Text

All the walls are crumbling because they were never real

I’m moving into belief. I’ve spent my whole life trying to understand the nature of life and identify the construction of right and wrong, truth and illusion. It’s a fascinating process and I know I’ll never be done with it, and that’s exciting and makes life interesting. But I feel like I’ve come to a point in my process of discovery something like scientists did when they discovered quantum physics.

In Newtonian physics everything has a cause and effect. There exists a linear relationship between action and consequence. That is true and will continue to be so forever. But Newtonian physics cannot describe everything that happens in the material world. When the scale of matter becomes really small, on the level of atoms, Newtonian physics no longer succeeds as a theory. Atoms are governed by different laws, and quantum theory, as bizarre and unintuitive as it is, continues to be proven true.

Physical reality is made up of two theories which have yet to be reconciled. Although they appear to be incompatible, compatible they must be. The physical world and everything we see with the naked eye is built on the foundation of the irrational and the impossible. The particles which we are made of can move within and without time, be in two places at the same time, and seemingly violate the universal speed limit--the speed of light. Particles can be physical matter which take up space in the physical world, and at the same time, be a wave--like a radio wave if you will. Somehow reality is built upon this impossibility.

"Reality is far fetched. The truth is always a long shot."

As modern humans, we are in a precarious place. A detached place. Our roots are no longer in the soil of the earth which gives us life. We are living in the world of biological theory, political theory, economic theory, etc.--which all function very well and have allowed us to advance incredibly once understood and applied. What is the logical conclusion from this process?

We learn natural laws that we might better understand spiritual laws.

I remember in the first computer science class I took at university, my teacher drew a picture on the board, something like the following...

And then he asked the question, “What’s missing?”. He answered his own question by saying “antimatter”. Then he filled in the “antimatter” absent from view, something like this...

Note: I’m a bad artist but I tried to draw the inverse of what was originally visible.

So what’s the logical conclusion of reality? Reality is a paradox. There’s always a catch.

Note: The teacher then went on to name laughter as an example of something behaving like antimatter. In this regard, we can theorize that antimatter comes in to play where we have inflection points. That’s useful to think about in the context of the choices we make, day by day.

Note 2: Antimatter, which cannot be seen, “refers to sub-atomic particles [that] have properties opposite those of normal matter.” It’s useful to note that this is in the quantum world, where perhaps, we could say that everything there is existing simultaneously.

I think the first paradox was in the Garden of Eden. Adam and Eve were commanded to multiply and replenish the earth. They were also commanded not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The problem which may not be obvious depending on your brand of Christianity is that Adam and Eve apparently could not keep both commandments at the same time. They were in a state of innocence and could not procreate without first creating the fall through eating of the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

I’ve heard it said that what may appear to be contradictory to us is not to God, and that somehow He can balance two conditions in perfect harmony which appear mutually exclusive. I don’t know how God could do it in the example of the Garden of Eden, but I do think we should learn to try it in other areas.

I am nothing. I am everything.

Helaman 12:7 O how great is the nothingness of the children of men; yea, even they are less than the dust of the earth.

John 10:34 Jesus answered them, “Is it not written in your law, ‘I said, “You are gods”’?

Through the course of a day we may need to remind ourselves of either of these quotes. What’s important is that we have to choose to put the concept into use in order to humble or inspire ourselves as needed. We have to draw up the belief then let it guide.

All truth is paradox.

My brother once responded to the above statement by saying that the paradox of truth serves as the fuel for free agency. That is an extremely instructive comment, which makes me think of Einstein’s dissatisfaction with the then emerging theory of quantum physics. When Einstein analyzed and documented the workings of the universe, he did so from the perspective of trying to understand the mind of God. He disbelieved the theory of quantum mechanics presented by Niels Bohr; the same theory that today continues to be scientifically verifiable. What he objected to was that in this explanation of the universe, the natural world became a lot more random. It seemed to diminish the role of the Master Designer. Einstein’s famous quote was “God does not play dice (with the universe)”.

I sometimes think that quantum physics only appears mysterious and random to us because we cannot see the complete picture, we are only seeing the effects of things in the physical world and perhaps there are other counterparts like antimatter that we can’t see (but can detect) and even beyond that, other counterparts we can’t even detect with clever testing.

On the other hand, there is beauty in accepting the concept of an “uncreate Reality” that can represent the quantum state. We in the Newtonian state have become the created Reality which “shows forth in our beings the uncreate Reality.” That is to say, our physical world and our physical selves are manifestations of the uncreated reality.

Alma 30:44 ...all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator...

What we see here in this world is a manifestation of God and the uncreate Reality beyond. Said in different words we have the following:

“For the Source of All Life created the worlds by dividing Its Unmanifest Unity into the manifesting Duality, and we that are created show forth in our beings the uncreate Reality. Each living soul has its roots in the Unmanifest and draws thence its life, and by going back to the Unmanifest we find fulness of life.“

The uncreated reality represents a primordial place from which the physical world is drawn into being from. This place we could liken to the quantum state. I make this comparison because when we can understand a concept in the real world, it helps us to have the faith or belief to put it into practice for our own benefit.

To address Einstein’s concerns, quantum mechanics may actually be evidence of God’s will to give us more free agency by providing an uncreate Reality with which we can interact. For one, It provides some “randomness” whereby everything that happens is not simply a predestined linear result of cause and effect--thereby, we cannot blame every thing that happens as a direct consequence of God’s original first act of creation (whereby He would have known the exact consequences of every single thing to ever happen, and the only intrigue in all of it would be our discovery of the result). Secondly, and more importantly, the interconnection of the quantum and Newtonian world can become for us a primordial wellspring from which we too can create. I am suggesting that it is belief and faith which allows us to materialize things in the physical world. Even as God himself does.

Hebrews 11:3 Through faith we understand that the worlds were framed by the word of God...

Lastly, the context of reality, or truth being a paradox further bolsters free agency because it provides choice, even as it did for our first parents. The choices you choose to make are based on what you first choose to believe. In the paradox, you are able to believe whichever aspect you choose to focus on because it also has basis in reality.

I don’t speak of the choice between good and evil, but rather the choice between beliefs. Belief is a tool you can use to do good or harmful things.

I think it’s important to iterate that prerogative is a part of free agency and choice.

Doctrine and Covenants 58:27 Verily I say, men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of their own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness.

We know we should do many good things of our own free will and choice but those choices will naturally be more oriented to our own dispositions. The challenge is not to confuse limiting beliefs about ourselves with what is our true nature and disposition. In fact, what I am getting at is that we should use faith and belief to overcome our limitings habits, beliefs and worldview.

I reckon that beliefs become powerful as they connect to internal desire. Since that is the case, it is instructive to follow the path of our own personal orientation and if there are lessons to be learned, we will learn them much, much faster if we are making the choice for ourselves rather than merely trying to follow someone else’s instruction. That’s because belief is the thing that supercharges our experience.

With belief in play we can properly channel the “why” to our actions and attendant effects in the real world. If we err, the “why” will be there to make clear the error of our ways. Notwithstanding, in the middle of all of this is God’s intervention to steer us from unneeded error if we stray off course, and which can be greatly aided by our responsiveness to His Spirit.

Let’s introduce something which is not a paradox but tends to be polemic.

Brigham Young said that “we live far beneath our privileges” because we fail to seek and receive the guidance the Lord wants to give us in our spiritual and temporal affairs.

This instruction is meant to help us lay claim to what might be ours but it can also paralyze us if we don’t engage with the belief that we will actually receive it. Successfully gaining access to guidance from the Lord is usually based on the belief and faith we put into it. The important thing is that we need to use belief to create the reality and then it follows that we will receive the guidance. However, we also have to put belief and faith into a great many other things of which we proceed with in lieu of guidance because...

Doctrine and Covenants 58:26 For behold, it is not meet that I should command in all things...

We must build and develop our ability to seek and understand guidance from the Lord but most times His guidance works like a signpost as we navigate. It helps us stay on course but there are a million decisions we must make for ourselves along the way by “using [our] best judgement”.

In my experience the contrast between God having a personal prerogative and objective in the management of choices and not having a prerogative is plainly evident in the line between church affairs and private affairs. When it comes to the administration of callings and duties within the Church I have witnessed an extremely high level of involvement from the Lord. If you pay attention you can see that He is almost constantly involved and directing. The Lord really, really cares about His work.

As soon as you move away from the realm of the administration of His Church, guidance is much more sparse. It truly feels like our personal lives are meant to be a learning experience through trial and error--a sort of experimentation. It does help us develop our own capabilities bit by bit. When you think about it, that really makes more sense anyways. Perhaps it also allows us to make mistakes without the additional condemnation we might receive if we had access to more from beyond the veil.

On the other hand, as I consider what will happen in the future as the world is thrown into turmoil and we all begin the work of building Zion I reckon that the line between church affairs and private affairs will become almost indecipherable--and I know that there will be an abundance of guidance as such in order to complete God’s work. There is something to be said for living like that already, here and now.

Gospel of Thomas 22: When you make the two into one, and when you make the inner like the outer and the outer like the inner, and the upper like the lower, and when you make male and female into a single one, so that the male will not be male nor the female be female...

The world is separating from a longstanding known reality. Social systems are being dismantled with an intention to reengineer them. Truth and science have become weaponized. We are dependent on technology more and more. Algorithms and big data will rule our lives. Breakages will occur. Power grids will be threatened. IT infrastructure will be compromised. Natural resources will become scarce. There will be natural disasters. Financial systems will collapse. Some of these things will be unplanned, others intentional.

I’ve always thought it so peculiar the human creature existing on this planet. All the animals on the earth have been endowed with instincts which directly provision their survival. Many young animals are taught survival skills during infancy, that is true, but even if they lose their mother, their instincts will guide them the rest of the way.

Humans on the other hand are nearly helpless without the knowledge passed on from generation to generation. At this point we’ve already lost our connection to mother earth. In our quest to master nature we have also sought to remove ourselves from nature--mother nature and also what we might call human nature.

As the walls crumble around us and the very ground is swept from under our feet, our only choice is to evolve and learn to fly.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.”

Faith and belief will enable many to do things which we previously knew to be impossible in the Newtonian world. To evolve means to move beyond the structures (spiritual and otherwise) we have upheld for sake of dogma. Those structures will be shaken. God’s work will not fail but we are to learn not to look beyond the mark. Ultimately, to evolve will result in having our natures changed into that resembling God as we learn to create/do through faith and belief.

For those whose trust remains in the shifting sands of the world’s social, economic, political and even scientific structures--they will be left without root and branch to stand on.

We’ll have to act for ourselves rather than be acted upon. We have to use faith and belief to power those actions or else it will be hollow inside and our hearts will ultimately fail us.

Luke 21:26 Men's hearts failing them for fear, and for looking after those things which are coming on the earth...

Let’s go back to the world of very small particles...

If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed...

Matthew 17:19-20 Then came the disciples to Jesus apart, and said, Why could not we cast him out? And Jesus said unto them, Because of your unbelief: for verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.

I’ve always thought it so curious that basically the whole point of our existence on this earth is to learn to exercise faith and belief. Before we can really do anything, the important first step is starting with a real belief that we can do the thing we set out to do. When we supercharge our actions with belief, the universe responds.

I posit that we on this earth are here to learn to become co-creators with God--creating through faith just as God does.

Sometimes we are able to energize belief through our belief in others, but it’s not always enough, as I believe was the case with the disciples of Jesus referenced in the example above and Oliver Cowdery desiring to participate in translating the Book of Mormon.

Doctrine and Covenants 9:11 Behold, it was expedient when you commenced; but you feared, and the time is past, and it is not expedient now;

Let it be noted that this was free agency in action, since it wasn’t in the original design of God that Oliver Cowdry participate in the translation, but it would have been permitted if he had faith enough.

Because God wanted Joseph to translate, He gave him extra strength to be able to do it.

Doctrine and Covenants 9:11 For, do you not behold that I have given unto my servant Joseph sufficient strength, whereby it is made up?

To aid with the translation of the Book of Mormon Joseph received special seer stones called the Urim and Thummim. What’s curious is that Joseph often used his own seer stone rather than strictly relying on the Urim and Thummim. Eventually Joseph had enough faith to do without seer stones altogether as he continued to receive revelations. I believe that the Urim and Thummim were there to build his belief and make up for his strength until he was able to fully energize belief in himself, his ability.

Believe that you have received it, and it will be yours

One thing that hurts belief is by having a narrow view based on the here and now. When we think of how things are supposed to happen in the Newtonian world we limit the power of the supernatural quantum, timeless uncreate Reality which is boundless. We have to allow for the uncreate Reality, unintuitive non-Newtonian world to intercede. We connect to this state though the particle of belief.

As long as I believe in myself I find I can do certain things. If I ceased to believe in myself, I think I should just crumble into dust, like an unwrapped mummy.

I have said all of this in order to say this, we need to use belief daily in order to shape our lives in the way that we truly wish them to be. Our lives have ended up the way they are precisely because of the beliefs we have engaged about ourselves, others and the nature of reality. If you say that you belief that life can be grand and beautiful but you spend your days dejected and depressed, then you aren’t engaging the grand and beautiful beliefs. Whether we like it or not, beliefs are constantly directing our lives.

“The basic difference between an ordinary man and a warrior is that a warrior takes everything as a challenge, while an ordinary man takes everything either as a blessing or a curse.”

There are indeed blessings and curses in our lives but we cannot ascribe our current condition to merely a result of those two things. In addition, we need to enlarge the gratitude we feel for the blessings and overlook where possible the curses. Feeling gratitude will enlarge our beliefs and strengthen the conduit between us and the Divine.

When we engage in belief in order to shape and direct our lives we cannot merely state a belief and then forget about it. We have to return to the belief day after day.

I have been reading about 45 books a year for the last 5 years. I set a goal on a website which helps track my progress and keeps me motivated. The first year I started the reading challenge I set my goal as 100 books for the year. I didn’t have experience and I didn’t really know what that meant though. It was an idle, pie in the sky wish. I didn’t return to the goal frequently. I forgot about it most of the year and I finished with 33 books that year.

That reminds me of Oliver Cowdry’s wish to participate in the translation of the Book of Mormon. If he had more experience or at least consistent belief he could have succeeded. The same was true of me. Experience does help, in so far as it helps to reduce fear since we have better bearings on the task before us. Perhaps fear is like antimatter.

That’s the tricky thing with belief and faith. If we have enough faith we could actually move mountains. But most of us probably don’t have enough belief to make that happen. But we could and that promise is available for us, but perhaps we misunderstand something about belief.

Mark 11:23-24 (NIV) Truly I tell you, if anyone says to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and does not doubt in their heart but believes that what they say will happen, it will be done for them. Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.

The NIV translation makes more clear something which has caught on with new age spirituality, like in books such as The Secret, and others which profess the power of manifesting in our lives by using the so-called law of attraction.

New age spirituality has brought us the power of meditation and living mindfully, which have slowly come into mainstream Christianity and that includes the LDS church.

And indeed, meditation and mindfulness are key parts of nurturing belief as I am prescribing. The current problem we have with incubating belief is that, as mentioned above, we already have many beliefs which are like weeds choking out the good belief that we want to use to empower our lives. We live barely cognizant of the incessant, mind-numbing chatter going on about our heads. You can consider all the thoughts that jump into our minds as competing beliefs. It’s a battlefield for our minds and our empowering beliefs may fall casualty if we don’t learn to quiet the mind and focus. That enables us to act for ourselves rather than to be acted upon.

The first thing we need to do with the mind is wash it, clean it up, not only once or twice a day as we do for the body but in all our waking moments.

Similarly...

Doctrine & Covenants 121:45 let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly...

A way which helps me practice a chosen belief is to do an experiment of thought. What I mean is that on a given day I may tell myself that I am doing an experiment of thinking that day and that helps me to suspend disbelief as I am merely there to analyze and watch the results of what happens, rather than to prove veracity or to gauge the level of real belief. I did one experiment of imagining each person as I would my own self.

Mark 12:31 love thy neighbor as thyself

I really did feel something wonderful that day.

That’s one reason I say that...

life works best when undertaken as an experiment

Sometimes if we put too much pressure on the act itself, we enlarge the importance of a thing beyond what it truly is. We have to maintain calm levity and not worry about the result; to laugh instead of get caught up in an act’s undue significance. In this way we can shake off a thousand mistakes of ego and bad humor which sabotage us.

the fatal flaw is that average men take themselves too seriously

The balance has been described this way...

Thus a man of knowledge endeavors, and sweats, and puffs, and if one looks at him he is just like any ordinary man, except that the folly of his life is under control. [He regards] nothing as being more important than anything else. A man of knowledge [can thusly] choose any act, and act it out as if it matters to him.

So to apply all of this in a practical way let me tell you my plans. I am making and setting goals, big lofty goals. I am aiming for 5 years to enter more fully into the vision I see for my life. I will meditate and pray each day and return again and again to the beliefs--multiple times each day in fact--which I think are necessary to empower me to achieve my goals. I don’t know exactly how things will happen, but I do believe in the scriptures referenced, including the very words of Jesus Christ. I consider it already done because I have picked up the rod, which at the far end connects to the result. The point of access where I grip the rod is belief.

Update Apr 22, 2021: This video supports my view of free will and quantum mechanics. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sMb00lz-IfE

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keotheraptor · 5 years ago

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The Cause will Always Betray You

(I made this like a hella long time ago but I’m proud of how it turned out.)

(We never went into much detail on TFA Shockwave’s backstory, but what-if he was a senator? That’s the tone I was going for) Enjoy reading it!

Before there was ever a war, there was a flawed society. He knew that. Before there was a flawed society, there were flawed people. He knew that. Shockwave knew that. His home, his people, his brother….all of them were flawed. Yet these flaws are what defined them. As a mech with the similarities of an aerial frame, there was a form of fear for what he was. More often than not, he’s mistaken for the feared warframes, or the rebellious warframes that are pinned to be monsters for going against what they are.

And he’ll admit, Shockwave believed that for a time. So did his brother. They believed that warframes were to be feared. He was to be feared for being different. The difference was that he looked more at the window than the persuading words written in front of him, while his brother took these words to spark. Shockwave expanded his horizons.

When his horizons expanded, he saw more than stars and the city he was built and grew in. He saw the bots that made it up, and the bots that wanted it to grow. He saw the bots that wanted the world to change. He saw the bots that wanted to cure Cybertron of its corrupt rule of function. He saw seeds that were planted but were never given water to grow. He saw stars that hid in the dark, and had yet to shine. He saw what he needed; what he needed was a choice. And that’s all he asked for. All he wanted was to give the cybertronians who were stuck to be given a choice to move from the path that was built for them. There was potential for them all.

And he knew this. Shockwave knew this. His brother knew this as well. Ultra Magnus was in the position to change this. He could change this for the better of their home. He brought it up with him, to change his mind.

“Shockwave, I cannot do this. If I bring this up to the Council, then they will certainly refuse. What you are asking for is impossible.”

“But think about it, brother. These bots, they aren’t rebelling for the sake of rebelling. Every rebellion is made for a reason. And their reason is to be with us; not against us, not to be like us; to be with us. Warframes and Civilian frames … in the end, there is nothing but our sparks.”

“Shockwave, no. I understand where you are coming from, but do you really believe that a warframe can enter Iacon without causing distress to its people? That the approval of them walking these streets will instantly create peace between this rebellion and the Council? It will cause more distress, more fear. I can’t risk it. It is safer if these warframes remained as warframes.”

“My brother…. you must trust me. You have to trust me. Trust me when I say that peace can never be granted without taking a step towards it. It won’t be easy, but….think about how we used to walk through those little hidden tunnels in Iacon as scraplets. It was difficult, was it not? Try picturing it that way. In the end, we get to the destination that we need to head through. So I’m telling you, brother, to trust me. The day we make peace with these rebels…..then it shall be a good day. A wonderful day, when peace shines.”

And he smiled. It was a naive smile. A smile that would stand to haunt him the rest of his days.

“Functionism…..do you not think that their teaching of the great cogs in the machine sounds too….conformative?” Shockwave believes so. The idea of staying in one designation for the rest of your life….he never liked it. But the idea of becoming what you wanted, of warframes being more than warframes and civilian frames opening up more paths for them to take…..it was a wonderful dream, and he wanted it to become a reality.

But dreams were dreams, and he was brought down to reality in the cruelest way possible.

How did he feel when he saw his brother standing below him, confused and doing that thing where his digits twitched when he was nervous? How did he feel when he saw his older brother, the look he was giving him being intense enough to make him step back before he was shoved forward.

“Shockwave. You have conspired with the rebellion, and have committed treason against the Council. I hereby relinquish your title as Senator, and condemn you to Empurata.”

To this day, the word was still hard for him to pronounce, but he read the expression on his brother’s face clearly. Denial and a little laugh as he tried to play it off as a joke, but when he looked up in hopes of reassurance, it took what willpower he had not to let the illusion of leadership slip when he saw the horror and confusion.

“You….You can’t be serious. Ultra Magnus, you...you wouldn’t! You can’t!” He thought he could prepare himself, prepare himself and think that when the guards dragged him away, he would fight back. Instead, he had to fight down the cold when all Shockwave did was try to push against them to look at him.

“Brother, please!”

….He looked away. His optics showed indifference...or was it ignorance? He wasn’t sure. But now he knew that it was the latter. Was he willing to ignore his little brother’s pleads? Was he willing to keep quiet? To keep this to his date of expiration? It depends…..but his spark told him yes. He was willing to sell out the only family he had, the only hope of equality, of the fall of functionism, if it meant keeping his place as Magnus, and ensuring the safety of his people.

He hasn’t seen Shockwave after that. He had hoped that Empurata was another word for exile. As mad as he must’ve been, at least his wrath will not reach him. And that’s what he believed. He believed that somewhere, he was alive. He must’ve hated him. Forever. And honestly, he wouldn’t have blamed him.

But he never thought that it came to this. As he laid on the floor, bruised, dented, bleeding and losing Energon while the Decepticon in front of him continued to swing the hammer on his form, over and over and over again. It hurt. It hurt so much.

“Do you feel defenseless, Ultra Magnus? I know the feeling all too well….after what you’ve subjected me to.”

At first he didn’t understand what he meant. What he knew was that the Decepticon was an enemy, and he was dying. He’s never had personal history with him, until he held the hammer above his faceless head, preparing the final blow. The more he looked at his optic, the more his spark strained to move, and the more it dawned to him.

“Do not call for help. It will be over soon….”

That’s all he remembered, right before everything went black forever. He remembered nothing more, except a word.

“Brother?”

#tfa #transformers animated #au #shockwave #ultra magnus #lil writings #transformers #angst #maccadam

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animebw · 5 years ago

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Binge-Watching: School Live, Episodes 4-6

In which I consider the point this show is making about Slice of Life, as well as where that point falls short, and the creeping despair sinks its claws in.

Stuck in Place

It’s clear from the start of episode 4 that Miki’s backstory is going to be a rough ride. Nothing good has ever come of a character starting a flashback by reminiscing on a “good friend” that’s not around anymore, especially when there’s a zombie apocalypse on the table. Though I’ll admit, it took me waaay to long to realize that said flashback was stretching across the entirety of these three episodes instead of just being confined to the one. Only Miki and Taromaru’s absence among the central cast clues you in that Yuki’s expedition to the mall is taking place during the same relative time frame as Miki and Kei shacking up in said mall. But I’m gonna blame myself for that one more than any faulty explanation on the show’s part, and I figured out pretty soon anyway, so no harm done. The point is, this set of episodes dives into how the last members of the School Living Club found their way into the fold, and in doing so, it answers a lot of important questions. Not just in terms of logistics in how everything got to be the way it was, but in terms of what it’s all supposed to mean for the audience now. We’re halfway through School Live now, and while there are still some uncertainties left dangling, I’ve got a very good picture of what it’s all about and why. So let’s talk about that.

The most important idea these episodes explore is the difference between being alive and, well, actually living. Once the zombie pandemic hits, Miki and Kei stay holed up in a little shelter inside the mall, escaping the zombies by staying in place. It’s an effective enough hideaway, but it’s also not nearly enough to accommodate any needs beyond physical. It provides safety, but it’s stifling, soul-crushing, empty. Kei ends up leaving Miki and setting out to try and find help because she just can’t take another day cooped up in that prison, even if stepping outside means risking horrific death. As Miki later reflects on the ordeal, what she and Kei were doing in that sheltered room was simply not dying. What they weren’t doing was living. After all, people aren’t meant to stay cooped up in place forever. We’re meant to explore, have fun, try new things, be a part of a greater world than just ourselves. And it’s so mentally taxing to force yourself to quarantine in place for the sake of survival, because it strips away everything that makes life worth living, even if stepping outside puts you at risk of no longer living at all (and wow, talk about unfortunate real-life parallels, huh?) So how can you fight back against that despair? How do you make a life worth living when the necessities of staying alive demand you sacrifice so much?

Living Life

And that, of course, is where Yuki comes in. Through her delusions and inability to face reality, she’s a constant source of forward motion in a world that’s been pulled to a standstill. By indulging her fantasies, the School Living Club is able to at least obtain an approximation of the fun things they used to do. School trips, camp-outs, sports days... maybe they can’t pull off the real things anymore, but at least they can channel their spirit, having fun going through the motions of an active, fulfilling life. As Rii puts it, when you spend your whole life thinking, you lose the ability to act, and a human life cannot be sustained on thinking alone. And when thinking and acting fall short, Yuki’s blissful ignorance finds the path forward that none of her friends, burdened by their responsibilities, are able to see. She gives her friends permission to actively live instead of simply staving off death, a space to decompress from the difficulty of living stuck in place in a world that’s falling apart. She reminds them that even if you’re stuck making the best of a bad situation, life isn’t life if you don’t make it worth living. And as long as they carry the proper protection when they step outside their safe zone, they can keep themselves reasonably safe fmro the infectious disease crippling their surroundings without fully giving an active lifestyle (Listen, I promise I’m not trying to make this overly topical, but look at what I’m dealing with). In that way, School Life is less a criticism of slice-of-life and more a celebration of it. Using Yuki as a stand-in for the genre, it posits that those silly, frivolous days of hanging out with your friends and just doing random shit are the days that make life worth living, especially in difficult circumstances. So it’s not worth surrendering your capacity for those simple joys, even if you have to adjust the way you go about them.

That’s a valuable message to send, and one I connect with a lot. It’s also, unfortunately, where I feel School Live’s biggest flaws lie; the actual slice-of-life parts of this show are by far my least favorite moments. Admittedly, this is probably somewhat a case of bad timing on my part; I’ve been re-watching K-On for the past couple weeks, which means I’ve been reveling in the absolute heights of what SOL anime is capable of. K-On is still this genre’s standard bearer, and there’s really no way for any other SOL show to feel like at least a bit of a downgrade in its wake. But even with that considered, when this show’s trying to be funny and cute, I just don’t find it all that funny or cute. It’s got a handful of decent jokes, mostly centered around Kurumi’s brash determination (”I’m more used to a game pad than a steering wheel controller!”) or Megu-Nee’s terminal case of Imaginary Friend Syndrome (”Your presence is barely noticeable! You can get lost!”) But it’s not very inventive with its shenanigans, the characters are all fairly one-note when they’re mugging for the camera of Yuki’s delusions, and it lacks a real pulse to bring it all together. I know SOL is a genre worthy of celebrating, and I appreciate the way this show is trying to celebrate it. But personally, if I was going to put together my best case for the genre, I would leave the fanservice dress-up scenes out of it.

An Imperfect Delusion

And that’s really where my difficulty comes in approaching School Live. It’s trying to make a statement on the unique power of slice-of-life anime, but whenever it’s actually being a slice-of-life anime, I just want it to go back to the zombie horror and emotional trauma. Not just because the SOL stuff doesn’t grab me, but because the darker parts of this show are actually really fucking strong. It’s shockingly good at worming its way under your skin, leaving you tense and biting your nails as you watch things go horribly wrong. In particular, it’s incredibly adept at smoothly transition from relative normalcy to full-on terror or sorrow. The sequence where Miki and Kei watch the pandemic unfold in the mall in real time, the panic escalating until the lights go out and plunge the scene into a pitch-black charnel pit, had me digging my fingers into my chair. And the way Miki draws the show’s camera out of Yuki’s delusions when she finally brings up the subject of Megu-Nee is just... god, it sticks with you. There’s something so viscerally upsetting about the pristine rooms of the fantasy world being replaced with empty, filthy, overlit shells of reality. Ditto the understated way the other girls deal with the zombie threats around them. They don’t even have the energy left to be horrified by what they encounter; it’s just become so commonplace that even Kurumi making Rii promise to kill her should she get infected feels sorrowfully banal. Somehow, the fact that they aren’t more upset about what they’re dealing with just makes it all the more upsetting.

But with all that said, and the backstory finally catching back up to the present, where do we go from here? There’s a number of different ways this show could end, and I’m interested to see what shocks it still has in store. No surprise on the reveal that Megu-Nee’s been dead all along and Yuki’s been talking to her in her head; the show’s done such a good job of keeping her juuust out of perspective, not allowed to carry anything because imaginary friends don’t have physical form (there’s a great touch where Yuki does give a water bottle to her from outside the camera’s perspective and we hear the bottle clatter to the floor). And the fact that she went down protecting her students in the end is just tragic. But here’s what has me the most curious at the moment: what is really going on in Yuki’s head? For all her delusions and fantasy worlds, when things go south during the mall trip and the girls have to escape a zombie horde, it starts feeling like there are more cracks in her false perception than I thought. She can tell that something is horribly wrong, and she freaks the fuck out trying to save Miki from the undead. Even buried beneath all that denial, some part of her mind still recognized just how fucked up her reality actually was. She’s even dreaming about his happy life being consumed by undeath and decay. It’s like he’s stuck in the Matrix, and there’s a splinter in his mind she can’t quite shake telling her that the world she thinks she’s living in isn’t real. How aware is she of what’s really going on? How conscious is she of how real her nightmares truly are? Something tells me we haven’t heard her whole story yet, and I’m nervous as hell for what secrets she might still be carrying. Until then, though, all we can do is bide our time and hold out hope.

Odds and Ends

-This OP is still right up there among the most unnerving OPs I’ve ever seen.

-Okay but was the panty shot really necessary

-”SHUT UP!” Oh god, that’s why Taromaru doesn’t like her, isn’t it? Fuck.

-”When did you get your license, though?” “Ha-ha-ha!” Yep, Kurumi’s my favorite.

-OH FUCK YOU WITH THAT ENDING SONG JESUS

-”They can communicate?!” askjdhasd of course

-It’s a little odd that Yuki doesn’t just hear the girls all talking about this zombie stuff in front of her. Is her delusion that strong? Is this more evidence that she might know more than she’s letting on? Or is this blocking just kinda lazy? Time will tell, I suppose.

-That is just... freaky. They’re all watching movies like they’re still trying to be alive.

-”I’m being ignored already?” Man, imagine if the twist was that Megu-Nee’s actually real and everyone was just being a dick to her.

-”I’m glad I came.” Ow, my heart.

And so we press on. See you next time!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #school live #gakkougurashi #school-live!#gakkou gurashi

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historianatlarge · 5 years ago

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1917 - Film Review

A few days ago, my wife and I went to see ‘1917’. I’m certainly a bit behind the curve in terms of writing my review of it, but the film has stayed with me since we were there, and I feel the need to get my thoughts down. Really, that in a nutshell is the best recommendation I can make to you about this film – well over a week later, I am still turning over what that moment means to me, what the memory it created will mean in the future.

I had been hesitant to go see it in theatres, in part because I had seen so very many films about the First World War. All these films had a sort of rhythm to them, an almost traditional way they played out, dependant on the country that made the film, or whom it was portraying. In short, I had expectations – certain themes, certain notes I expected ‘1917’ to strike. In the end, it was my mother who convinced me I should go see it and she was not only correct but extremely correct in urging me to do so. At every turn, ‘1917’ caught me by surprise – it struck hard and gave me a moment of renewed belief in the power of cinema to reinforce the importance of history to a mass audience.

Before I review it in further detail, I will indulge in an aside; one that represents those little moments of life that we tend to remember for a long time after as odd or strange, perhaps even a little bit humorous. We went to see the movie on the 14th – perhaps not the most obvious choice on Valentine’s Day – the same day that Sonic the Hedgehog premiered. By coincidence, 1917 was showing in the theater next to it, and both movies emptied out within a minute of each other. You can imagine the very, very odd juxtaposition between a roomful of gleeful children, teens and parents compared to the very, very somber and even sorrowful people coming from next door. In short, I now have a superb example of ‘contrast’ to use when teaching an English class.

To return to my main theme, however, all of this – even the aside – speaks to the idea of the unexpected. At its core, I believe that is the key to 1917’s power and very real feeling. It abandons many of the old tropes to focus on the moment, with a galaxy of circumstances the audience, and the movie’s characters, can’t know about all circling around in the distance. This, in a very critical way, was the First World War. To the individual, the war was beyond comprehension – and in many ways it remains difficult to understand today. A war of millions of people in a labyrinthine, mud-soaked hell couldn’t fail to be anything other than that: a grand, confused mess on which a great slaughter was carried out. Throughout the film, every character finds themselves not only part of events they do not have any control over but are surprised by it – something I can assure you happens to the audience as well.

The violence in the film is sudden, and unexpected. Death is never predictable, never something forecast – it is at once a routine part of the larger tapestry but a sudden, awful surprise in moments that arrive either with pure shock or by unusual circumstance. This emphasis on circumstance is a crucially important concept to understanding the life of the individual during the war. By abandoning the look at the big battles, director Sam Mendes has crafted something unique. It gets us past mere statistics, past stereotypes or national myths and to the crucial reminder that these were ordinary, real human beings and not just names on a cenotaph or a granite monument. Years of a family’s love and care, a bundle of hopes and memories and emotions – all of it suddenly ended in sometimes absurd ways in a war that was itself absurd and, in many ways, unreal.

This air of unreality is reflected in the reactions of the film’s characters, and the audience. The movie is all about reactions, of course, since nobody has any mastery of the world they find themselves in – another very real take on the conflict. But as they make their way through the film, practically every character must come to terms with something unreal to them. The larger event that frames the film is the German retreat to the Hindenburg Line, a measure taken in 1917 to shorten the German defensive front by falling back to a heavily prepared defensive line and freeing up resources. This they achieved with near complete surprise, so much so that apparently at least one soldier left up a sign for the advancing Allies saying “don’t be angry, be amazed!”

The very idea that the Germans would retreat without making the enemy wrench territory from them inch by bloody inch is an astonishing surprise to the characters in the film, to the point where some simply don’t believe it, and you simply cannot blame them for their error. Again, these characters – these people - are not masters of their own fate. Advancing into the abandoned German defences brings yet more surprise, at the solid, clean and well-prepared nature of German positions (which often were superior to Allied entrenchments for reasons best gone into elsewhere) – and then further surprise at the nasty surprises left behind.

All of this world of surprise, of sudden and unexpected violence, or strange events that are difficult to accept, is painted onto a background created with great care and even greater skill. Much has been said about the cinematography of the film, and the long shots are certainly unique in that they keep the audience from resting. You keep watching for the sudden changes, the unexpected twist – in short, the audience undergoes a shadow of the experience of the soldiers themselves. Their world did not cut away, it remained a constant threat where the most (seemingly) inconsequential decision could result in death.

This unreal world is depicted with both the grim reality and the strange, horrible beauty that war art often evokes. The ruins of a French town illuminated by starlight shells, for instance, presents a remarkable and grand tapestry while still depicting just one small place and one small moment. It is at once beautiful and terrible, and I am certain that any dedicated student of the First World War will understand this feeling, even if they struggle to put it into words. It certainly isn’t easy. For me, it reminded me of seeing Regeneration Hall at the War Museum in Ottawa. For all the beauty of the space, for all the care in its construction and message, the statuary was disturbing – and the image of their faces has stayed with me ever since. While the Hall is explicitly about hope for a better future, it reminds us about the horrors endured to get there. This is an unspoken and complex discussion, one that the movie carries on with expert skill.

The movie also abandons the stereotype of the officers as being almost evil and unfeeling, a hallmark of many First World War movies. This is replaced instead by an officer class just as overmatched by events as the regular soldiers, just as unable to adapt to the sudden changes on the battlefield. Some of the officers you will see in other First World War movies are almost comically inept and without any human feeling whatsoever – and while these people did exist, it certainly paints a more realistic picture to show the wide range of emotional responses to the war, rather than fall back on a singular image. Once again, this is a complex discussion – and I am glad the movie provokes it.

The film does more to conceptualize the war accurately, but I will avoid discussing that to avoid revealing any major plot revelations for those still planning to see it. To sum up, then, all I can say is that this movie sticks with you. You turn it over in your mind time and time again, and that is some of the highest praise I can think of for any motion picture. It brings a vanished world back to us, one that is at once very far away and just over the horizon if we fail to learn from the past.

The score, the cinematography and the acting are all superb – and by and large beside the point. It is the frank and new way that it deals with its subject matter that makes this stand out, at least from my perspective. I cannot recommend it more highly, for it has been a very long time since I left a movie theater with the words of Siegfried Sassoon so clear in my mind:

“Sneak home and pray you'll never know

The hell where youth and laughter go.”

#1917 #movie review #WWI #First World War #review #Siegfried Sassoon #Sam Mendes #history #history writing

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tunafishprincess · 6 years ago

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The Roads We Take Chapter 2

art by @brothebro, writing by @tunafishprincess

First Chapter

She is twenty-six when they move into their new home.

Well, perhaps not home. Not yet.

The shingles are haphazardly thrown around the uncut grass in clumps, whilst the door barely hangs on its hinges. The inside is worse. Dust blankets the living room and kitchen. Even the closed off bedroom (only one bed, she notes), has dust bunnies scattered amongst the mess of clothes and blankets someone left behind.

And left behind they did. Whoever the original owners are, they left most of their valuables. Claire knows why, or at least, she thinks so. Most of the houses, especially this close to Arcadia, are abandoned. Another symbol of her past deeds.

But it would make due. It has to.

They have nowhere else to go.

She suspects Toby pulled several strings to get them such a place. Most humans these days live in a post-war era of poverty and disease, all brought upon by the witch queen herself. Morgana is dead, but her story will live on for centuries, if not millennia. Trolls and humans would not soon forget such a woman, nor will they forget the face she wore.

The first month of cleaning and tidying up the place are a godsend. Every day she awoke to the sound of Jim working on the roof and every night she knocked out, bone-tired from cleaning and fixing up the little cottage. When they finish up the major repairs, she starts her own little garden. Nothing like her father’s, but it is a start.

It is soothing in the beginning. No thoughts, just work. Her and Jim largely ignore each other outside of pleasantries and small talk. She is fine. Everything is fine.

Until it isn’t.

Toby and Darci visited when they could but for the most part it is only her and Jim here, no neighbors for a hundred miles around. She looks forward to them, desperately so, because what else did she have to look forward to these days?

The snippets of information help feed her imagination of the world around them. Her lack of internet made any outside news exciting, even the most dull kind. What she would give to have a newspaper or magazine subscription. But alas.

The Nuñez household came every few months, but even that wasn’t enough. Her family has their own lives, she knows, what, with Enrique’s schooling, her mother’s work—it hurts, but she understands. Even though it feels like it was just yesterday she was a teenager, outwardly she is an adult. Ten years is a long time. They have moved on, changed and grown without her presence.

Enrique sends her letters at least.

Jim is…She isn’t sure what their relationship is these days. One moment they are on the couch together and the next he’s somewhere else, leaving her for hours, sometimes days at a time.

The tension could only go on for so long. Claire is bored. Reading is nice, but it doesn’t fill the void within her.

The days turn to weeks turn to months and she is starving for something, anything.

An itch she cannot scratch, no matter how much work she does around the house or in the garden. It is as though there is a hole inside her chest, expanding with every breath.

Emptiness. Morgana hollowed her out, leaving her scrambling for purchase in this strange new world of familiar and not. No one could ever understand. Not really. She watched every atrocity the sorceress committed, like a figure behind a thick wall of glass. No matter how hard she screamed, no one could hear her.

Ten years is a lot to comb through. She knows she’s screwed up, mentally, emotionally, physically—take your pick. Morgana twisted her soul, shifted her body to accommodate the creature she originally was.

The creature Claire now is.

Humans didn’t levitate in their sleep.

Humans didn’t break glass without touching it.

The magic ebbs and flows, changing at the slightest change in her mood. No wonder Toby put her here. Society is better without her causing anymore havoc than she already does.

Still, the tightness within her builds.

She misses human contact—any contact. Stranded in the woods without much entertainment begins to suffocate her. Unlike the hospital she has nothing to distract her from her thoughts. Jim tries to help, but he isn’t much better. The sweet boy she remembers is a man now, strange and alluring; yet no matter what she does, he is always out of her reach.

It all comes to ahead one night, when Jim comes home much later than normal. She waits at the door for him to return, a bundle of emotions ready to erupt.

And how could they not? Look at me, she thinks. What a dutiful little wife she has become. Her sixteen-year-old self would be horrified at what she is now. No job, no education past tenth grade, no social life—it is a heavy blow to her self-esteem. All her dreams are dashed now, all because she didn’t seek help.

Dios mio, if only she sought out her friends before this entire mess. Even now she can recall the confusion, of how she kept forgetting things, of the endless cold that ate at her being. The cracks that wouldn’t go away. So many signs. And she was too stubborn to see them.

The door creaked open. Jim’s head lowered beneath the frame, horns lightly scrapping the top.

Her breath hitches. It is not so much the size that surprises her, but the power behind it. The thin beanpole boy that barely topped five and a half feet now towers over her, his entire body corded muscle, with impossibly large shoulders that tapered into a trim waist. No, trim didn’t cut it. Even with his shirt on she could see the outline of his abs and chest.

Could probably bounce a quarter of it, she reflects, cheeks growing rosy at the thought.

No. Almost immediately she reins herself in. Her fists clench. She is supposed to be angry. Jim is late. No, more than late, he was missing.

She knows he can sense her in the darkness, if not outright see her. The red of his eyes glow ominously. The scent of pennies is heavy in the room. As he heads for the kitchen, Claire moves in front of him.

“Jim, wait.” She adds, “Please.”

He turns his head slightly, ears lowering. “Can this wait till morning, Claire?”

Absolutely not. By then he would have an excuse and they would be back where they started, skirting around each other like always. Claire pressed on, “Where were you?”

“Work.”

Claire’s lips tug downward. Work. She hates his work. She may be trapped here but he is trapped out there, forced to do the very things Morgana used to impose upon him. He is the government’s dog, all because of her.

“You could have told me,” she says, voice level. They were a team, right?

“There wasn’t enough time.”

“There’s never enough time, is there?” She sighs, leaning against the wall. She rubs her temples, trying to starve off the headache forming. It is one of the symptoms of her magic. As if she needs even more things wrong with her.

His shoulders raise. “What?”

She throws up her hands. “Every time. You disappear without ever telling me anything. I have to get the information from Toby, and even he’s tight lipped about it because of some stupid “security clearance”. Can’t you at least have the courtesy to leave me a message? Even a text would do.”

With every word that passed her lips the frustration builds. They are supposed to be together but if anything they are further apart than ever before.

“Claire—” He whispers.

Magic crackles around her; the furniture around her shakes.

She knows she’s overreacting. Nevertheless, she cannot stop the frustration growing within her. These last few months have left her in a constant state of unease. It is now or never.

“No, I’m not finished,” she snaps. “You can’t keep doing this.”

His eyes flicker away from her steady gaze. He looks extraordinarily uncomfortable, like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “Doing what?”

She groans, rubbing her forehead. Is he serious right now? “Vanishing without a trace. What if something happened here? How would I ever get a hold of you? What if something happened to you?”

“The government has security detail on the grounds,” he answers, scratching the scruff at the base of his neck. “Besides, if something did happen to me, you would be cared for.”

“Cared for?” She bites out. What is she, some sort of puppy? “Are you for real?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Everything!” She yells, louder than she wants to, but the bubble within her has burst. Her hands grow hot in response.

Instantly, a picture frame dislodges from the wall. Claire startles then turns her head at the sound. It is a move that costs her.

When she turns back, the door is open.

Her boyfriend is gone once more.

“Mother—” She bites down the rest of the curse.

Cold grips her chest, spreading out to her extremities. Her teeth chatter. The glass windows sing, alerting her of how bad it has gotten.

Damn it. Every time. Every time she accidentally uses her powers he disappears.

Finally, the window behind her shattered. Shuddering, she begins to do the breathing exercises Darci taught her. Count to ten: one, two, three, four, five…

It takes her longer than she would like to admit.

Still, she does it. The emotions are balled up tightly inside, the freezing chill in her blood warming into an uneasy coolness.

Part of her knows this is her fault. She is to blame for Jim’s reaction.

But another part of her disagrees. Didn’t he say he would stay with her always?

What she wouldn’t give for a break from all of this. This stupid reality where she hurt everyone and everything. Is this how it is going to be for the rest of her life?

Is this her destiny?

God. She hopes not. That is almost as bad as the ten years with Morgana. Having no one to talk to and the only one that does fears her using magic.

Tired hands make quick work of the mess. It gets her mind off the inevitable, though not for long.

An hour later, he returns. This time, Claire doesn’t give him the luxury of an excuse. She bores into him, finger pressing into his broad chest. Her other hand tugs on the braid she made for him this morning. It is almost comical, her, small and fragile and him, large and indestructible.

“You’re a coward,” she remarks coldly. “You can’t talk about it so you just ignore the problem.”

“Claire,” he says, still not looking at her. “Stop.”

“No, I’m not going to stop. You can’t keep pushing me away.” She drags him over across the room, his mane a makeshift leash. He complies, albeit reluctantly.

It is childish, yes, but nothing else appears to get to him.

“I’m not pushing you away,” he reaches out, tucking a stray bang behind her ear. Part of her softens, before remembering the prior conversation. She swats the hand away. “I’m keeping you safe.”

“Bullshit. Keeping me safe? You’re running away,” she accuses. To add salt to the wound, she adds, ��No wonder Morgana won.”

Her eyes widen.

It is the wrong insult.

She regrets the words the moment they leave her mouth.

The man wearing Jim’s face steels. Claire drops the braid. The golden pupils, normally rounded, slits, more animal than human.

His hunched back straightens. The muscles in his shoulders stretch against the confines of his shirt.

The Morgana issue is always a sore one between them (and probably will be for a long time). A rush of shame brushes against her heart. Nevertheless, she faces him head on.

She knows she should be afraid. This is someone who fought for her, killed for her, held her—warmth pools between her legs. It is involuntary.

Now, Claire theoretically remembers how and what they did together, but the actual is far different than what she saw through Morgana’s eyes. Her eyes fall to his chest, which appears to be expanding as he stretches out to his full size.

Holy moly he’s big, she realizes.

“What did you say?” He asks, edging her closer to the wall.

Bravery (or foolhardiness, it is hard to tell) grips her. She crosses her arms. “You heard me.”

He leans closer. “You don’t know anything.”

Claire can’t help her cheeks from burning. Did he seriously just say that? Anger flares up once more. She gestures her forefinger at his face. “I was there. I know about everything, Jim. Morgana was me, remember? I remember how she tricked you into drinking that potion. I remember the bathing room. I remember the time you tried to kill her—”

Her words get caught in her throat. Jim growls, his mouth close to her neck. She can feel his breath against her chest, hot and heavy.

“Then you remember how dangerous I am too,” he whispers, voice rumbling. “I am a monster, Claire. You don’t want to be around me…Not when I’m like this.”

She reaches out. “No, you’re not.”

Bad move. Her back smacked against the wall. She gasps. His arms lock her in, strong and unyielding, while his leg runs up against her—

Her chest tightens.

That isn’t his leg.

The heat within her builds. She is terrified and sad and angry and aroused and every other possible emotion. The scent of magic grows thick in the air. Her magic. Jim’s ears twitch in response. The faded marks on his face don’t glow, not like before, but the etchings appear deeper, darker, as if in response to Jim’s mood.

“I could break you. Here and now. Do you understand that?” He asks in a deep voice.

Her breath catches as his hand snaked around, grasping her from behind and lifting her up. His entire palm encompasses her backside.

He draws close, inches from her face. His pupils grow large, nostrils flaring. A soft rumble erupts from his throat. “This isn’t a game. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

She licks her lips. This is a dangerous situation.

But this is the most alive she’s felt in months too.

Finally, she resolves to end it.

“You’re not.” She grasps his shirt. “I need you, Jim. Please.”

The vibration in his chest grows louder. He lowers her to the floor once more (she almost feels a tad disappointed by that).

She can read the swirl of emotions on his face, from the lowering of his ears to his hitched shoulders. A soft smile emerges on her lips; he’s embarrassed.

Despite the changes, Jim is still there. Just as broken as she is.

And that’s what it comes down to, isn’t it? Two broken people, looking for the other to make them whole.

“You could do better,” he says.

Seizing the moment, she presses a kiss on his forehead. The tension in his shoulders ease. “You’re not the only monster around here, Jim,” she admits.

She makes a move for his lips but he stops her. There’s a softness in his gaze, but there is hesitancy too.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m not ready.”

“Alright,” she concedes. It hurts, but she understands.

He brings her closer. She wraps her arms around his neck. He is warm and firm and smells of the outside world.

“This is all so new. I’m afraid it’s a dream,” he confesses, voice breaking. “I’m so scared of losing you. You’re everything to me.”

Claire chokes down a sob. Her lip trembles. The angry, frustrated part of her begins to wash away.

“I can relate.” Even she wonders at times whether all this is something she made up, brought upon by the insanity of being with Morgana for so long.

“I missed you. I missed us. I just didn’t want to screw it up like I did with everything else. I want what we had before. It was perfect and real and—”

She presses a finger to his lips. He gives her a familiar lopsided smile.

“We were never perfect, Jim,” she answers truthfully. “We both had our flaws.”

Her arrogance and his self-sacrifice. She lets out a soft giggle. What a pair they are.

“I missed this,” he says.

“Me too.” She pauses, pulling a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “Can we cuddle? Like we used to—Wah! Dios mio, qué haces? Jim, oh my gosh! Stop, you doofus! Put me down!”

The princess carry is unexpected, to say the least. He spins around, making Claire break out into a fit of laughter. It is the most fun she’s had in months.

“You wanted to cuddle,” he replies cheerfully.

She rolls her eyes, cheeks reddening. “You’re impossible.”

They settle into the couch. It creaks under them, largely because it wasn’t meant for someone of Jim’s size, she suspects. Slowly, she crawls onto his lap. Her hands caress his hair, over and over, hypnotic in its rhythm. The tension in his shoulder ease, melting away. She leans forward; he shifts to accommodate her. She digs her face into his shoulder, taking in his scent, a warm encompassing presence.

“We can’t keep doing this whole ignoring the problem thing anymore. We need to talk. Real talk. About everything,” she says. “I know it’s scary, but I’m going insane over here. You’re the only one around I can really talk to.”

“You’re right,” he mumbles into her hair. His head tilts back, eyes closing. “I guess I’ll start then.”

“Are you sure?” She says.

He nods, pulling her closer. “Sure? Heck no. But you’re right about the talking.”

It’s not much. The conversation only lasts half an hour before Claire nods off.

But it’s a start.

#Trollhunters #Fanart #jlaire #dark jlaire #fallen too far #troll jim #claire nuñez #clairegana #trollhunters au #fanfic #trollhunters fanfic #trollhunters fanart #jim lake jr #tales of arcadia #fanfiction #redemption #fallen too far sequel #rated m

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theonewiththefanfics · 7 years ago

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At Arm’s Length (Part 4)

Part 1- Modern!AU

Part 2

Part 3

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: swearing

Word count: 1597

In the end, Y/N had to switch her phone off, the incessant ringing driving the girl mad. She didn't know what to do. On the one hand, her heart was doing summersaults from happiness, on the other, she just wanted to cry her eyes out at the simple thought of the many miles between her and Bucky. He’d done a thing neither could reverse that easily. And Y/N had enabled his actions, so she had to take at least half the blame. If the woman hadn’t agreed to the announcement party, if she hadn’t allowed him to kiss her cheek, maybe things would’ve gone differently. My Chemical Romance’s ‘Dead!’ started to blast through the little portable speaker and she could only wish to be six feet under. How Y/N was going to deal with the fallout of this situation was beyond her.

Meanwhile, Bucky was not fairing any better. He’d just confessed his love for a girl on live TV even though for the past two months she had been pushing him as far away as possible. But the guy was done. Done with running from his feelings, done with his one true love fleeing, done with being unhappy. Steve patted Bucky on the shoulder bringing the co-owner of ‘Barnes and Rogers’ back to the reality of brightly flashing lights, fancy suits and dress gowns. “That was a bold move, punk. You sure Y/N isn’t gonna come back just to rip your head off?” “Well if she does then phase one is complete- get her back to New York.” A smirk was plastered on his face while his heart stuttered. What if confessing wasn’t enough? What if any grand gesture would always be too little? Bucky was sure he’d wait forever for the Y/E/C eyed beauty, but at the same time, it didn’t mean he would simply give up in the meantime. “And what is phase two?” came the voice of Tony Stark as she sauntered up to the two men, giving the photographers a dazzling smile, proudly having linked his elbow with Pepper. “That… that I’ll figure out…” Tony hummed, extending an arm as a signal for the four to move further down the carpet. “She called me, you know.” Bucky’s head turned so fast he almost got whiplash. “And?” “And she was on the verge of a panic attack. Told her to contact you as soon as possible. So once she calms down, and hopefully gets her three brain cells working, she’ll drop a message. Heaven knows that the girl has never taken her happiness into account. Maybe this was the push she needed.” As the night went by Bucky felt his insides twist more and more with each passing moment. Y/N hadn’t called him nor sent a text message and it made him jittery. Tony, Steve and him announced the merge of ‘Stark Industries’ with ‘Barnes and Rogers’, bringing their focus on the development of prosthetics and artificial limbs. Champagne had flown, merry chatter had flittered through the air, yet all the brown-haired man could feel was nervousness, rather than the joy of this momentous occasion. “What if I totally pushed her away?” he turned to Steve, a glass of white wine sitting on a small table in front of them. “What is she just completely blocks me and never wants to see me again?” The blond sighed, chugging down the last drops of his own alcohol before meeting the gaze onto his best friend. “Listen, you just dropped an atomic bomb on a girl, who without a question is completely head over heels for you. Yet you did it on live TV, while she is away in a different country let alone a continent. You can’t expect Y/N to be completely collected after something like that.” A smaller hand rested atop his. Looking to his left he saw Natasha. The redhead was clad in a deep burgundy cocktail dress, her hair straight and framing the beauty’s face in the most complimentary way. “You did the right thing, Mister Barnes. Y/N… she didn’t even tell me or Wanda that she was moving away. And we were very close. So I cannot imagine how hard it must have been to even think about explaining this situation to her childhood friends, let alone the man she's in love with. Give her a little bit of time. If by the end of the night there is nothing, I promise to fly over there and beat some sense into that head of hers.” Bucky smiled, squeezing Nat’s hand in his bigger one as a silent thank you. But unbeknownst to everybody in the room, silent clicks of cameras immortalised the moment forever.

***

He didn’t stay at the event for much longer, the anticipation of a call or any sort of message from Y/N had become almost physically painful. And as much as he wanted to be the one to contact her first, Bucky knew he had to let the woman process what had just happened. If someone had done it to him, the man was sure, he would’ve passed out. Bucky loosened up the little black bowtie before it completely came off, the small piece of fabric discard somewhere on his beige sofa. He was just about to make himself a drink when his computer lit up, the unmistakable sound of a Skype call shattering the quiet of his house. Immediately he was by the desk, sitting in the armrest and pressing answer. There could only be one person who would wish to communicate with him during such late hours and through Skype. Y/N’s face lit up the screen and Bucky swore he felt his heart melt. It had only been a little over a week since he hadn’t seen her, yet nothing had changed. The woman’s Y/E/C eyes sparkled just as brightly, her Y/H/C hair looked just as soft and her features were just as beautiful as ever. “Doll,” he breathed out, a wide smile splitting up his face. But her reaction was completely opposite of his. “Why would you do something like that?” She sounded so small, broken even and only then did Bucky notice how there were tear streaks marking a way down her cheekbones. “Because I love you. And I’m not going to run anymore. Nor will I let you do it.” Y/N hung her head, the man’s words stinging more than they would’ve if they hadn’t been so painfully true. “You do realise what kind of a problem you just created?” “A problem? Y/N, I just said what my heart felt. I’m in love. And I simply told who I love. Is there anything wrong about it.” “No…” she huffed looking around her new room. Bucky saw a picture of him, Steve and the girl herself, set up on a nightstand, instantly wishing he was actually there with her. “Then what’s so bad about me confessing?” “Because you did it on live TV in front of millions. My phone is unusable because it keeps blowing up. You are my new boss thanks to the merging of yours and Stark's companies, and to top it all off- I’m thousands of miles away! I told you it would never work and now you’ve made a whole nation believe in this Cinderella story but Bucky… I’m not coming back… This is a permanent move. Yes, maybe I’ll have to fly over for some meetings and work stuff, but other than that…” His heart was breaking with every uttered syllable. “Buck, I’m trying to start a new life here. And unfortunately leaving you behind is a thing I have to do. Otherwise, I won’t be able to move on.” “Then you shouldn’t!” Bucky was almost shouting, angry tears rolled down his own face. “Tell me one good reason why” Y/N sat there, eyes boring into her opponent's cerulean gaze. “Because you love me.” The girl hung her head. It was a simple answer. And it was completely and utterly accurate, that is why the clenching in her heart became almost unbearable. With tears in her Y/E/C she looked up at the man. “Well, sometimes that is not enough.” “No,” Bucky shook his head. “It is enough. You’re just scared. And I get it, I completely do. I’m terrified myself, but, fuck… just give us a chance… just one chance.” He saw the conflict raging inside Y/N. It hurt him to see the woman he was utterly infatuated with, in such turmoil and pain, but maybe that is what she needed to allow them to try at least. Yet her response obliterated every piece of hope. “I’m sorry.” The call disconnected leaving Bucky to stare at the black screen of his computer and with a broken heart, thudding harshly in his chest. Instinctively he pressed the little green icon to make a call, but it didn't go through. He tried again and again, but Y/N wouldn’t pick up nor would she respond to any of the messages he sent. It was almost midnight by the time Bucky gave up, a whiskey glass clutched tightly in his palm. Blue orbs scanned the twinkling lights of New York City. He hadn’t even bothered to switch out from the suit, his expensive Calvin Klein button shirt and Hugo Boss pants still adorning the businessman’s body. Bucky ran a palm through his hair, pulling at the dark locks before abruptly he stood up, determination rushing through his body. “That's it,” Bucky placed the empty glass on the marble countertop as he moved to pack a suitcase. “I’m going to Barcelona.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): @impalatobakerstreet @slender--spirit @janineabad @salty-buchanan @chrisevans1fan @dyanna-corona @chook007 @lost-and-wandering-alone @goalie-love @nerdgirljen @jediviolet @fandomly-writings @densewaffle @hawkxyes @mizzzpink @nishanki1 @misplacedorphan @dylan5573 @onespideyboi @thunderous-flower @who-cares-rn @projectxhappiness @callmebucky-doll @coal000 @killuaenthusiast @courtneychicken @sophiealiice @raquelbc2003 @watch-out-for-thorns @potentially-kinetic @thatonegirljessy99 @proxinge @bbkenna @buckysclub @ulired @fangirlofeverythingbasically @mrsalh32611 @horrorx570ximagines @the-nargles-made-me-do-it @pooslie @itsisabelanotisabella @httpmcrvel @purplebananatragedy @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @pizzarollpatrol @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @nerissa98 @happyseagrill @asguardiansoftheavengers @crazybutconfidentaf

A/N: A little bit shorter, but still :) I’m so super stressed about everything that I had an absolute meltdown last Saturday like it was bad. And I still don’t feel on the top of everything, so I know, I’m already very inconsistent, but this is a really big problem, like I’ve never felt this bad, so I might actually go and find someone to talk to, like a professional, because I’m practically to tears every night and even during the day.

P.S. tell me what you thought :)

P.S.S. if you have a request or wanna be tagged in future stories, drop a message :)

P.S.S.S. please, don’t repost without credit :)

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crossdressingdeath · 2 years ago

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#Well said#The frame of The Honor of Becoming a Warden is so so large in his mind that he can't see around it to other points of view about Loghain#My warden recruited him so that he would spend his final days legitimately helping people by killing darkspawn#and likely condemning him to a lonely brutal death in the Mines of Moria#He sold his own people into slavery and tried to have multiple people murdered#Becoming a warden is a penance for him#If he dies killing the arch demon then at least he did one final thing that was legitimately good for the world#Honor is not about getting a trophy#Honor is not about getting a reward#But Alistair has not truly developed that understanding because he can't separate the attainment of his goal in becoming a warden#(and that 'reward' as in he finally got what he wanted)#from the meaning of 'honor' in his head#So his conception of becoming a warden is colored by it being a 'reward' and he finds it unacceptable that Loghain is being 'rewarded'#despite all he's done#(I know I'm just reiterating what you said OP but yeah)#Becoming a warden is not inherently an 'honor'#What it is is entirely about *the mission*#This is why you have the option to recruit Loghain#and why-as OP pointed out-Duncan recruits people who did not genuinely have a choice/because it was useful for him to do so#Does it advance the mission#That's the only question he needs to answer#Alistair is idealistic and has a very clean heroic image of the wardens that doesn't exactly stand up to the reality#The wardens are also basically his family at this point#So recruiting Loghain admits someone he hates for good reason into that family#on top of tarnishing the idealistic picture of the wardens he has in his head#Then combined with everything said above#He chooses to leave the wardens rather than accept that#This was very long and disorganized and I do not apologize (tags via @stuffedeggplants)

This actually makes me think of one of the most interesting things about Alistair that never gets discussed, which is that Alistair is not actually loyal to the Wardens. Oh, he thinks he is for sure! And he's definitely loyal to Duncan. But he's not loyal to the Wardens as an organization. His loyalty is to this fairy tale, knight in shining armour version of the Wardens that does not exist, and cannot survive him having to seriously consider what the Wardens actually are and do. Like, no matter how many times the Warden tells Alistair that they did not want to be a Warden and Duncan forced them into it against their will on pain of death (both from their situation and from the fact that Duncan would've killed them himself if they tried to back out) Alistair still just insists that Duncan saved him personally. And sure, it did... but I don't think Alistair ever considers for a moment that if Duncan didn't care whether the Warden wanted to be a Warden or not, he didn't care whether Alistair wanted to be a Warden or not. It just happened to work out that Alistair did want to be a Warden. But Alistair just... can't really comprehend that it was sheer luck that meant he's happy as a Warden and is glad that Duncan conscripted him out of his original situation, because Duncan would've conscripted him either way.

And I think that's a large part of why he sticks around through everything the Warden does except sparing Loghain. Anything else he can say "Oh, they're just a bad Warden because Duncan didn't get the chance to teach them", but sparing Loghain is done on a senior Warden's suggestion. Riordan joined up about the same time as Duncan, he has the same amount of experience as Duncan, and he's telling them to spare the man who left the Wardens to die. There's no pretending that that goes against the Wardens' ethos, because Riordan is probably one of the most experienced Wardens Alistair's ever met (seeing as he's close to the Calling). While Alistair blames the Warden, I've talked before about how that doesn't make sense since they're just going along with what the senior Warden present suggested; I suspect that a lot of it is that that's easier than acknowledging that he was wrong about the Wardens, and likely wrong about Duncan too. Alistair walks at this point because his idealized image of the Wardens is shattered by Riordan suggesting sparing Loghain and the Warden taking him up on it, and his loyalty to the organization doesn't survive it.

A thing I wish DAO went into more: the way Alistair is in some ways incredibly selfish. Like, the way he refuses to take charge of the group is treated as kind of endearing in the text, but the game doesn't really get into what a massive burden he just... drops on the junior Warden present with no warning or discussion. Think about it: the Warden is heavily implied to be very young (possibly younger than Alistair, definitely around the same age), most of them have no real experience in leadership, several of them have no experience in the world outside their small corner, all of them have only been Wardens for a few days. And Alistair dumps leadership of the group on them and refuses to take any of that weight. Does your Warden like leadership? Are they any good at it? Is it exhausting and difficult for them? Alistair doesn't care! He doesn't want to lead, and that means you have to lead, and whether or not you want to lead has no bearing on that. It's not a discussion, there's no suggestion of sharing the responsibility of leadership as the Wardens of the group; Alistair metaphorically throws the responsibility at you and runs.

But if you go for low approval with Alistair it's basically all about calling him childish and immature, even though I think a much more compelling low approval dynamic is the Warden despising Alistair for putting so much on them with no hesitation, but being stuck with him (because they know as well as he does that they need all hands on deck Warden-wise) and stuck with that burden of leadership (because a Warden kind of has to be in charge of the group and even if one didn't no one else in the group would be very good as a leader in this situation, and Alistair has made it very clear that he won't take it). Even at high approval it would be very compelling to have this sense of resentment at how Alistair just assumed they'd take on the burden of leadership and refuses to take any of it for himself. But that aspect gets completely ignored in the story, you don't really get the chance to raise the matter aside from asking why you're in charge despite him being the senior Warden present a couple of times.

It also adds something really spicy to the fallout of sparing Loghain, though, because... Alistair forced the Warden to take on leadership. He made them be the one to make these hard choices. It's never been a discussion, it's never been the Warden's choice whether or not they take on responsibility for these tough decisions, Alistair always just expects them to do it. And now they've made a call he doesn't like, and he abandons the group on the eve of battle because of his wounded feelings? I'd argue that's as much a betrayal as sparing Loghain if not more so, and certainly more of a betrayal of Duncan's memory; Duncan understood that a good Warden must be driven by necessity, not emotion or even morality, and I feel like in the Warden's place he likely would've made the same call. They need Wardens around to kill the Archdemon, as many as they can get, and even one more could make the difference between victory and defeat. The Warden and Alistair may not know the details, but with the most senior Warden present saying they should make Loghain a Warden instead of killing him a logical assumption would be he has a very good reason for saying so and maybe they should listen to him! I would've loved it if during the argument with Alistair after sparing Loghain you could really get into that "You forced the responsibility of making these decisions on me when I never wanted or asked for it, you don't get to throw a tantrum now that I've made one you don't like" aspect of it, but you... don't. And that's a shame, because it takes a lot of depth away from his dynamic with the Warden.

#dragon age origins #alistair critical

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sylvasthesnowfox · 6 years ago

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18. fate

Naomi is obviously thrilled to be accompanying Rei to explore the far tower, so much so that she bounds several steps ahead of Rei on the balcony and right up to the tower's enormous double door before she thinks to turn back in confusion. "Wait," she says, "isn't this place supposed to be - "

Rei assumes that the next word was meant to be 'sideways', but Naomi's seized by vertigo and too disoriented to finish, and turning back, Rei doesn't blame her. From here, the world is very strange. Gravity is pulling them the way it seems like it should be, relative to the tower itself, but it's not as simple as a mere perspective shift; the shading of the clouds seems backwards from here, like the light is coming from below or behind the clouds somehow, and the clouds themselves have not turned to match the orientation of the tower. Rei has never imagined what a "sideways" cloud looks like before, but now she doesn't really have to imagine.

"Oof," says Naomi, clutching her head. "Boy, that's a trip."

"It's unsettling," Rei agrees noncommittally. Safe to say that she is distracted at the moment. "Let's get inside."

In contrast to the tower where Gwen and Naomi are waiting - which Rei is tentatively calling the "old tower" - the far tower is cold and lifeless. There are no plants on its stone balcony. When they push open its doors they open into an impenetrable darkness. Rei's first steps inside echo in a seemingly infinite void. She's walking - she doesn't feel comfortable using her Spark here without knowing what lays ahead of her. She's not sure what effect it might have on her surroundings.

Not that that's any comfort against the inky black infront of her. She remembers, against her will, space ripping open into an unfathomable maw of eyes and legs and rocky darkness, swallowing her reality. It's not hard to refocus on her surroundings, but she can't ignore that it's left her shakier than before. "Naomi," she says, as evenly as she can manage, "could you - light things up a bit?"

"Of course!" Naomi's undeterred. She fires several rounds from her handgun - they turn to flares, casting brilliant red light against stone walls around the central room. Sure enough, this tower's layout seems to mimic the old tower, opening up into a huge cylindrical room and some kind of glass monument in the center. "Looks kinda like the monitoring room," Naomi observes, mirroring Rei's thoughts. "Wanna check out the console up front then?"

"If it turns on," Rei hums. She advances slowly, cautiously, feeling the static humming of the Spark around her hand. The flares continue to cast their dancing light, shadows reaching up from the floor and rippling against the far walls all around her. She still hasn't entirely cast off the feeling that she's dangerously close to that numbing void again, and it's hard to deny how uncomfortable the feeling makes her.

To her surprise, though, the console does turn on. A single panel alights as Rei tampers with the nearby controls; a dim electronic glow illuminates her face as Naomi draws near to her again, and violet monospaced text appears on the screen:

CONCEPTUAL SIMULATION ENGINE [MAINTENANCE CONSOLE] v.0.1.597.463.0.0.7

FATAL - ILLEGAL INITIALIZATION PARAMETER 0x00000000000000000000000000000000

CHECK YOUR PARAMETERS OR PROVIDE A NEW CATALYST, THEN PRESS [ENTER] TO TRY AGAIN.

"This seems important," Naomi hums, whipping a phone out of her pocket and taking a picture of the screen. Rei stares at her dumbfounded, and Naomi glances back, innocently confused. "What?"

"Where did you get that?" Rei says hoarsely.

"What do you mean, where did I - I've always had it!" Naomi pouts. "I mean, it obviously ran out of battery back at the remnant, and I couldn't ever find another charger, but when we got here it was full charge!"

"You had a phone all this time," Rei sighs, "and you never told me or showed me because it was out of battery?" Naomi shrugs theatrically, looking only further distraught.

"What did you want me to do?" she cries. "I didn't know it would matter! I just kept it on me cause - I just - I felt sentimental, or something. Shut up."

"I'm not upset at all," Rei laughs, raising her arms. "I'm just - "

"Hey, shh - "

Naomi's gasp silences them both. The room is quiet, except for the hissing of the flares; neither of them are breathing.

"I don't hear anything," Rei breathes. Naomi scowls.

"I could swear I..." She shakes her head, stepping away from the console and raising her gun. "Whoever you are, step into the light, now!"

come here.

"Okay, that I definitely heard," Rei gasps, her heart suddenly pounding. "What was that?"

"Outsider," Naomi mutters darkly, and Rei can't help agreeing with her. If she were to try to place the sound, it would sound like steel cable rubbing against sandpaper, maybe? Like something soft and yet terribly heavy, straining against something coarse and firm, a sound on the edge of ripping into pieces. But it's not hard to believe that such a sound has no real source. It's her imagination trying to parse input it was not designed to interpret.

And despite that, somehow, Rei cannot shake the feeling that she's heard this sound before.

"Last chance!" Naomi bellows. But she's answered with another distant rustling. It seems to be coming from several directions at once, but all leading deeper into the tower. Naomi glances back at the Curator. "Maybe we should leave," she murmurs.

"Maybe," Rei murmurs, a hand over her chest as she tries to calm herself down. Maybe they should. But maybe they shouldn't?

The doors to the tower slam shut. Both Naomi and Rei whirl around - one or both of them yell in alarm - but Rei's eyes are swiftly drawn back to the console, which has changed color. The text is now gold and it now reads:

NOT YET.

"Show yourself!" Naomi roars, now raising her gun and pointing it into the shadows. "Whatever or wherever you are, come out, let me see you if you're brave enough to threaten us!"

Rei looks up again. The room seems somehow darker than before, but just as she's wondering if she should say something, the darkness recedes - whipping away all at once from the walls and through the seam of a door at the far end of the room, which until then she hadn't noticed somehow. "Something's here," Rei gasps, as the door lazily swings open - showing only gaping dark beyond. "Yes, something is definitely here."

"I saw it," Naomi growls, swiftly putting herself between the door and Rei. Rei glances back at the console, but it's blank now. The flares behind them, closer to the huge doors to the balcony, are burning low. The darkness is overtaking them from behind, and as it draws in, that familiarity of the void grows only stronger...

"Okay, we should leave," Naomi urges her, but Rei shakes her head slowly, standing fast.

"There's no need to panic," she replies, raising her hand. She can still feel the Spark. The assurance is aimed at herself as much as it is at Naomi. "I have control over the Seed, don't forget. I can get us out whenever we need to. If there are Outsiders here, we should investigate. They could be Spirits, or otherwise important to recreation."

"Yeah, what with how they're threatening us," Naomi growls.

"I'm not threatened," Rei replies imperiously, crossing her free arm over her chest. "Let's go."

The flares behind them quickly recede into darkness once they pass through the doorway. Naomi fires more ahead of them, but they fade into the black void immediately. Even when they turn as though to fire them at the wall, the hall seems to turn with them. Rei's vague discomfort is starting to take a more definite shape. Naomi is growing more and more tense. They are reminded of Outsider attacks in the remnant. They are reminded of the Outside itself. Reality is breaking down around them.

"We should go back," Naomi says, slowly and firmly, trying to hide that her voice is shaking. But Rei shakes her head. She can see movement ahead of her. It's hesitant, and it's making that noise that is so uncomfortable and yet so familiar to her. Like she's heard it in a dream somewhere before. Maybe she literally has!

"I can still get us out any time," Rei whispers. "Let's play along."

"It's not that I don't trust you," Naomi murmurs. She doesn't have to finish her sentence. Rei admits, she understands how Naomi feels.

They keep advancing. It's hard to tell they're in a hallway. It's hard to tell they're inside; it feels more like they're walking on a stone path through an impossibly dark night, but Rei has never experienced a night so dark before. Her old world was full of light and color, even at night, so that one never lost themselves. But she knows that sort of thing used to exist in ancient history, when people didn't have electricity. You could walk into a field without a lamp on an overcast night and lose any sense of direction except Down. She tries not to dwell on how lucky she is to still have that frame of reference.

Naomi stops. "I feel like we're not in the tower anymore," she says, her voice a bit louder than before. But only a bit.

"Me too." At least it's not just her. What Rei's feeling isn't exactly... fear, or at least she doesn't think it is. But it's certainly true that she feels better for having Naomi at her side. And yet, as she thinks about that, at the same time... she wishes Naomi wasn't here. She wishes Naomi was not facing this danger, and the thought that a threat might appear that Naomi might throw herself into again is...

No... no, the more she thinks about it, the more she wishes Naomi was not here. Her skin's crawling at the thought. This place is dangerous, this journey is dangerous, in a way that Naomi might not fully understand. Maybe they really should go back, just so that Naomi is somewhere safe...

Naomi fires a flare straight up. Rei gasps as she does it - she didn't think of that! The hall can't turn and orient itself upwards without them falling, right? As they follow its arc overhead it flickers and flashes, but nothing catches its light; it's a solitary gleam like a shooting star rushing further and further away... at first.

But then there are other flashes all around it. Rei mistakes them for enormous glass panes, light rushing through them in bands as the flare passes by at the right angle to reflect that light back at them. But that's not what is happening. Suddenly what was one flare, traveling straight up, becomes a dozen, and then a hundred and then more, streaking past each other in many directions like a firework. And illuminated by their baleful light are hundreds of humanoid figures in a great distance above them, standing in pairs, watching the display just as Rei and Naomi are.

"What the fuck?" whispers Naomi, because this is an unbelievable thing to see, and the lingering light of the flares allows her plenty of time to take it in. But Rei knows what this is, or at least she understands what it is symbolically. What it represents. What do you see when you look into a void where there is nothing but yourselves to see?

"Close your eyes," she instructs. Her voice is more bitter than she expected. She glances over and sees that Naomi is looking back at her like she's crazy. "I mean it," she says impatiently.

So, Naomi closes her eyes. Rei threads her fingers through Naomi's and tightly clasps her hand, then closes her own eyes, too. The flares fall silent, because they are too far away. Rei thinks of the remnant. She thinks of the top of the apartment building where she and Naomi caught their breath after many fights, held each others' hands after many arguments and shouts of hopeless frustration, shared little kisses and smiles while talking about what they might do with the future they would build for their new world.

"Open your eyes," Rei instructs. She opens her own. Beside her Naomi screams.

"How are we back here?!" she cries. Rei stares into the abyss surrounding the apartment rooftop with a dull resignation. She knows what this is. She understands where they are. "No," Naomi continues, horror filling her voice, "no, this isn't - there's nothing else here. What happened to everything else?"

"It's just this building," Rei murmurs, "becuase this is all I thought about." She turns around; there is no skyline, no skyroad, no other towers crumbling after two years of decay, no shimmering barrier between the end of the world and their tiny bubble of existence. There is nothing shielding this place from the void. Or rather, there is no separation from 'this place' and the 'void'. They are the same. "Hold on," she says, "I'll get us back."

And she does. She doesn't even have to use the Spark; it's just a matter of remembering where she wants to be, and demanding that she is there. They walk back along a stone floor, through a hallway they can barely see, until the faintest glimmers of dying flares finally comes into view on either side. Rei doesn't even wait long enough to take them through the door; the spark rips through the world and they are standing on the balcony, Rei shielding her eyes from the light while Naomi sputters and blinks in desperation to recover.

"Okay, well, we're back," Naomi says blankly, turning back to her with a sigh of relief. "Man! That was... pretty spooky, huh? It felt kinda like we might get attacked by something in there, you know?"

Rei doesn't answer. She's deep in thought. It's supposed to be very hard to reach the Outside. Even in the remnant Rei could only get there by dreaming. How did they simply... walk into it?

What does it mean that they could walk out of the Seed if they wanted?

#wishes from oblivion #wfo sky arc #sky iteration 2

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sailor-cresselia · 7 years ago

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Try and Re-Build

They can't stay here.

This version of Touto is so, so much better off then the one they left. (The one they... replaced? Repaired? … erased?)

But it hurts to be here.

It hurts so, so much to encounter these people, to even see the strangers carrying names and wearing faces that they met and knew, that they fought against and alongside.

They thought about meeting them, and trying again, at first.

But it would be cruel.

Not just for themselves, but for the others too.

Sento and Ryuuga both know full well that they wouldn't be able to separate their friends who lived there from the people who live here, and that’s not fair to these familiar strangers.

It's just too hard, seeing a laughing farmer and his friends, who never had to give up their humanity so their families could live, but who can joke and cheer and relax.

(And isn’t it strange that he still falls for the same girl?)

Seeing politician and his son, who hadn't been worn down and torn to pieces by a war, but are thriving and whole.

Seeing an engineer and a reporter who didn’t have their lives planned, but who got to choose their own paths.

(And isn’t it strange that the dynamics shift, but the choices are still so similar?)

Seeing a pair of goofs with a band, and a successful one at that.

(And isn’t it strange, that even after endangering him, they never thought to tell Tatsuya that Sento wasn’t Satou Taro, did they? They probably should have… but how do you tell someone that? And there was no time. Just one more mistake.)

Seeing a father who runs a booming cafe.

(And they never even knew him the first time around, did they? It was never really him back then.)

Seeing a daughter who goes shopping and sings karaoke with her friends and smiles, who doesn’t carry that awful weight and guilt of being used and tricked on her shoulders.

(And why couldn’t they have seen sooner that she blamed herself? Yet another mistake.)

Seeing a woman who got treatment and recovered.

(It hurts so much that she won’t know him – not this version of him.)

Seeing a man who never had to throw a fight.

(The monkey jokes are harsher looking back – and also couldn’t have been further from the mark.)

Seeing a scientist who openly loves his parents.

(Did she know it was him? Even when he didn’t know who he was, did she?)

(Did she know his father was still alive, too?)

~ ~ ~

Identities are a problem, too. Sento has one mans face and memories for another two, and Ryuuga has a fully-human double born seven months after him. They don’t (didn’t?) exist here – not in a way that fits the shape of this new world.

They have a phone that's a bike, and a mechanical dragon that hasn't woken up. (Ryuuga hopes it will, someday. He grew fond of the little guy.)

They've got two belts, and two bottles - one silver, one gold.

(Neither has tried using them. It feels like it would be bad luck to try, but that it would be even worse to get rid of them.)

Kiryu Sento and Banjou Ryuuga cannot stay in Touto, which is properly a city again, not a war-torn city-district-region-country hybrid.

WAS it a city in their world? They aren’t really sure anymore. Neither of them remember much of politics before the Skywall. Sento only ever really picked up (was given?) memories through Takumi's days in high school, and what happened after Katsuragi Takumi ‘woke up.’ Besides, Takumi was focused considerable more on science than… well, pretty much anything else. Banjou was 13 – he was just a kid! – when the wall went up, and a lot of his youth was blurred and smudged and faded by Evolt.

(Back home, it was Quite A Day when he realized that Misora was the only one there younger than him. Kazumin called him a kid for a week.)

~ ~ ~

They can’t stay here.

So. they leave.

They leave the city that they remember but don't know.

~ ~ ~

And finding work is hard when you don't have a past that doesn’t and can’t match the world you’re in, and everything down to the roads just isn’t the same compared to the ones you know/remember/knew.

History is one of the biggest differences.

~ ~ ~

They look up the history of the other Earth, to see how far back it diverged from their own. They go back 25 years, and there hasn’t been anything that returned from Mars. So that's a good sign, they guess.

(They hope.)

They go back further, to make sure they don’t say the wrong things, and start looking up cultural changes as well, to make sure they can pass for people who’ve been here all along.

They come across something weird.

It's an urban legend fansite, sure, and neither of them is sure how they actually GOT to that page. But that picture is…

It’s a photo from the early 1970’s – discolored by age and grainy from being digitized. It’s off center, and crooked, and looks amateur, but there’s no reason to think it’s not real.

A photo of two men on a cliff, doing posing next to a pair of motorcycles.

Wearing full masks and armored bodysuits.

And captioned as the “first known photo of Kamen Riders 1 and 2 together.”

~ ~ ~

So. That’s not something they had either.

~ ~ ~

The pair who fought as Build and Cross-Z dig deeper. And as they get closer to the present, more and more warriors of justice fighting under the name (title?) of Kamen Rider show up.

There's a period after the early 1990’s where the records sort of stop, and no new heroes show up for a while, but around 2000 the Riders start appearing again.

Some of them are rumors, and urban legends, but others are definitely on record as being real.

And they keep reading, and the closer to the present the more familiar things get.

8 years ago - rumors of a Rider in black with a partner who didn't QUITE pass for human.

7 years ago - a high school that focused on space and science, with sightings of a Rider in silver.

Ryuuga has been to that school, and been rescued by the warriors in those blurry, hastily shot photos.

5 years ago - an archived site for a dance competition that turned into monster fights that turned into battles between members in armor that then stopped reporting, then followed by accounts of describe a city turned into a war zone.

That first armored rider helped get Sento to Ex-Aid’s world. To what might be THIS world.

Neither of them have wanted to talk about the nagging worry they've both had the past month, living here on this other earth.

3 years ago - a temple that has never gone out of their way to confirm the rumors of a Rider in black and orange, but has never gone out of their way to deny them, either.

The concern about what happened that brought them here, alive. What brought them here when neither expected to come out of that last battle with Evolt.

2 years ago - news footage and reports from this worlds Seito, about a digital viral outbreak and the Riders that fought it - and the press conference covering the aftermath, led by a doctor with a face that appears in two sets of memories in one persons head.

The fear that “they didn't get it right.”

7 months ago - News articles about a resurgence of the virus and a giant mechanical hand reaching to the sky.

That “maybe they didn't fix anything.”

7 months ago - terrified social media posts about another earth in the sky, one that had a jagged red scar.

That “maybe they just left home.”

7 months ago - still frames from amateur videos of two Riders fighting a gear themed enemy.

That “maybe they just took themselves out of the equation.”

7 months ago – two riders, a constant and an unknown,

That “maybe they left everything behind -

7 months ago - a rider in gold, with a name and reputation to put to the mask,

“- left everyONE behind -

7 months ago - and a rider in blue and red, never seen before or since.

“maybe everyone else is gone and the people here - these same-but-different people we know-but-don't - are just the alternate versions, not merged or remade or saved, but just preexisting familiar faces that will never, ever replace the ones that I just ran away from and left behind to d--”

And Sento didn't even know he was talking until he couldn't get the words out, until he was choking on fears and doubts and grief and guilt, and sobbing at things that were “all his-and-my fault and he-and-I did this and brought so, so much suffering and then just ran away and I didn’t even have the decency to remember-”

And Banjou grabs him, holding him close in almost a death grip to keep this stupid, egotistical, terrified genius from shaking himself to pieces - physical, mental, emotional, whatever. And he’s shaking too, because he hasn't wanted to think about these possibilities, either.

Hasn’t wanted to think about how maybe they messed up – that he's the one who messed it up, because if nothing else, the other him shows that black-hole bastards or no, he is consistently a muscle-headed fighter, and if anyone that was there that day screwed up the creation of a literal world it would be him…

So, he keeps saying quiet, ragged reassurances to his best friend - only friend now that the others are strangers again - both of them red-eyed and hoarse and SCARED, because they just. Don't know what really happened in and after that gap in reality where space and time and energy were colliding and tearing apart. And that not knowing, that's terrifying, for both of them but neither have dared bring it up for just this reason. It’s so, so terrifying to have so much information and yet still have nothing but questions.

He doesn’t say it, but he can see. It's awful for Banjou, the not knowing. But not understanding isn’t really NEW to him – confused has kind of been his default state since they met and he hasn’t hid that at all – but Sento? Kiryu Sento had really only existed for a year before they met at a factory and a fight, and been manipulated and lied to and trying to find himself and coming up with nothing. He made so much of his identity out of his smarts and on Build and just kept hiding anything that didn’t fit the person he was or could have been or could be – that didn’t have a place in the puzzle of his past. He hid whatever he could fit behind the mask of a grinning nerd and the helmet of a warrior for love and peace.

Then they were thrown into war, and so, so many awful things had happened, and Banjou hadn’t said anything back home, hasn’t said anything here and still doesn’t, but he’d been seeing it for months. He’s seen his friend shouldering worry and stress and doubt until he broke and then hid that behind the same smile and behind his work and the fighting. The war dragged and grew and got worse and more personal and Sento had just kept taking it on himself and bearing it and breaking and kept going anyway.

This is definitely not the time for that talk. It’s even less time for anyone to bring up that half of those fights… that both of them kept going in with no plans for making it out after.

It’s not the time for that, but they’re at a park, the one they stayed in last night, and they should probably find somewhere else for this because they’re two sobbing wrecks who can’t explain this to anyone else. They can barely explain it to themselves.

“We're out of our element here, aren’t we? Listen, man, you can't lose yourself to this, okay? Who else'll be the brains of this outfit? Pretty sure we’re both screwed if it's me.”

He chuckles, half-hearted and hoarse and so, so tired. Looks like he’ll have to take the lead for a while.

“This is messed up. I know. So just… take your time and breath, okay? When you’re ready, we can go and… I dunno, find some of these other Riders, maybe? And we can try to get some answers.

“Just don't GO, okay? We're in this together, Sento, we have to stick together.

“We're all we've got."

#Kamen Rider Build #so it looks like i'm an asshole #because i want to write fix fic #but this came into my head instead #i was supposed to be working but it was a slow day #which is for the best because i was crying writing the first draft #i want to be nice to the boys but they won't let me #i want to help them really #but so much has changed for them #and it can't go back #i want them to be happy but i can't get them there yet #where did they wind up #that's the real problem #i will ride this inspiration train until it runs out of track

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