#and when this verse came the scenes simultaneously flashed in my mind

[neitherofusideal]

hannigram – about you (the 1975)

[drwcn]

discordance!verse part 3: The affair came to light. Wei Wuxian took the whip. But words got out. All is not quiet in Lotus Pier. 

in which wwx is lxc’s husband through political alliance, and there is an affair.    

[8] | [7] | [6] | [5] | [4] | [3] | [2] | [1] [synopsis]

Because someone asked: 

^ Sorry anon, not exactly what you were asking for. :) But you asked for Jiang Yanli, and I delivered. 

~

Jiang Yanli was sweating by the time her boat from Lanling finally docked at the pier. In the back of her mind was the constant nagging agitation of being away from Jin Ling, but Zixuan had reassured her that he would clear his agenda for the day and stay with their son diligently. The animosity and tension that simmered beneath the surface of Jinlintai’s false tranquility could erupt...any day. Like arrows on a bow pulled taut, they were all waiting for the release. 

At time like this, Jiang Yanli did not think she would have to worry about yet another disaster, but here she was, rushing to her maiden home bearing the most heinous of rumours. 

Jiang Yanli’s frown darkened, remembering the smugness on Jin Zixun’s face that morning in the peony garden. The derogatory remarks had almost been enough to make her hurl up her breakfast.

Is this the teachings of Yunmeng? I would have expected better from Lotus Pier, but then again, that ill-bred tramp have always been this way. It wouldn’t even be surprising had his target not been Lan Wangji. Righteous holier-than-thou Lan Wangji. Only goes to show you can never really know a person, isn’t that right, dear cousin? 

Jiang Yanli stormed through the front gates, a torrent of gold silk and coral chiffon. Not waiting for disciples to announce her, she aimed straight for the main hall.

 “A-die, a-niang!”

Her heart was in her throat. Oh, but she could already imagine her mother’s face. This could end badly in so many ways. If there was any truth to these rumours...she did not know how Gusu Lan dealt with such an infraction, but the Violet Spider would demonstrate to the world exactly why she was dubbed thusly. The stain upon Yunmeng and Lotus Pier, upon the Jiang family - there was not a doubt in Jiang Yanli’s mind that her mother would take it all out on Wei Wuxian. 

Impossible. Simply impossible. It can’t be true. A-Xian would never. He would never - 

Except maybe it was all true. It could be... because - because she herself had seen it, just weeks ago, at Jinlintai, at A-Ling’s one-month celebration - 

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, look, look how chubby he is, isn’t my nephew the cutest?”

“Mn. Very cute.” 

It should’ve been an innocent enough exchange, and it would’ve been, had she not seen the hand Lan Wangji laid against the small of A-Xian’s back as he leaned over his shoulder to peer down at the baby. Jiang Yanli, who had looked away briefly to instruct the wet-nurse to fetch a soother for A-Ling, had turned around to witness the hand caress her brother low along his spine, close to his tail bone. 

Heavens above, what if it’s true...

She was shocked to say the least. That should’ve been an inappropriate action for anyone who wasn’t Lan Xichen, and even if it were Lan Xichen, the placement of that hand was dangerously bordering on indecent! Though the garden at the time contained no one but them three and baby Rulan basking in their loving attention, they were still very much out in the open public. Any disciple or banquet guest could have come strolling through and seen! 

She had expected A-Xian to jerk, to flinch, to moved away and be offended by such a liberal gesture of familiarity and affection, but her brother didn’t move an inch. Instead, he turned and flashed Lan Wangji a smile that was as warm and bright as the morning sun. Graced with the potency of A-Xian’s joy, Lan Wangji’s whole countenance softened, from his eyes to his lips which curled ever so slightly at the corner into a gentle smile of his own.  

Yanli had told herself that it was nothing, that she was over thinking it, that it was a good thing that A-Xian was able to befriend the unapproachable Hanguang-jun. But now...

No... oh A-Xian, didi, what have you done... 

“Da-xiao’jie!” the maid exclaimed and curtsied to her as Jiang Yanli approached the doorway of the empty main hall. “Thank goodness you are here! Zong’zhu, fu’ren and shao’ye are all in an uproar!”   [ Da-xiao’jie - first young mistress, it’s a spoken honorific similarly used as ‘your ladyship’]

So words have reached Lotus Pier too...

Damage control, what she needed to do was damage control. She could do this. She was not Jin-shao-fu’ren, the future Lady of Lanling, for nothing. 

Jiang Yanli spun on her. “My parents, where are they?!” 

“In the Master’s study!” 

She followed the maid as they wound through Lotus Pier’s many boardwalk aisles and water gardens. Without realizing, the two of them quickened their pace to a trot then to a run when they heard Yu Ziyuan’s voice echoing from the distance.

“A-die, a-niang!” Jiang Yanli charged into her father’s study, interrupting her mother mid-tirade. “Something must be done about these abominable rumours circulating -” 

Yanli froze, one feet still on the other side of the threshold. The heart that had been skipping in her throat dropped instantly, free falling into the deepest, darkest pit of her gut where her suspicions hid all along.

Jiang Fengmian sat in his front of his work table, hunched over, his whole weight supported by the hand spanning his forehead. In his other hand was several sheets of paper - letters or missives by the look of it, Gusu Lan’s ink emblem just visible underneath his thumb.

Jiang Yanli had never seen her father so utterly defeated. 

Between her parents was her little brother, clearly in the middle of trying to calm down their mother, but was equally red in the face, and practically bristling like an enraged kitten. 

Upon her arrival, three pairs of eyes flicked simultaneously to the door. 

“A-Li.” The fury that seemed to evaporate from Madam Yu’s every pore tempered fractionally at the sight of her daughter. “What brings you home?” 

“What brings me -” Jiang Yanli gaped, glancing from her mother to her father to her brother. “The rumours about A-Xian -” 

Incensed instantly, Yu Ziyuan exclaimed, “How did you find out?!” 

Once, such a display would’ve cowed her without fail, but Jiang Yanli was no longer a child of timid disposition. Living in a pit of snakes had toughened her against all manners of the world’s assault. 

“I overheard my maids gossiping amongst themselves this morning. A-Xuan heard it from his cousins. I dare say even His Excellency and pomu would’ve heard of it by now.” [pomu 婆母 - husband’s mother] 

Jiang Yanli pursed her lips, feeling a sudden sense of unease over top the preexisting anxiety. “Was it supposed to be a secret?” 

Jiang Fengmian sighed, holding out the letter towards his children as if its mere existence appalled him. “A letter from Elders of Gusu Lan arrived this morning.”

Jiang Cheng took the sheets from their father, hesitating when Yanli strode up to him. “A-jie...”  

In the background, Madam Yu paced the length of her husband’s study, cursing under her breath.

"Thank goodness you have married and married well, A-Li,” She said. “Or else this boy's philandering ways would have ruined your prospects. As it is, A-Cheng -"

Swirling on his mother in an uncharacteristically brisk manner, Jiang Wangyin interjected loudly, "I don't care about prospects, a-niang! They had him whipped! Three hundred and one disciplinary lashes! How is he now? Is he even even - even alive?! Gusu Lan doesn’t tell us anything -"

“What?!” Jiang Yanli yanked the letter from Jiang Cheng’s hand, eyes darting back and forth as she bored over its contents. A moment later, she lowered it slowly, looking up at her brother whose distress mirrored her own, and then at their parents whose distress were for different reasons entirely, reasons she understood but could not empathize at all. 

The world suddenly felt enormous, cold, and without air. Jiang Yanli stumbled back half a step, as imagined scenes of A-Xian being pinned down and tortured flashed before her eyes. 

“A-jie!” Jiang Cheng lunged forward and caught her by the elbow. 

Jiang Yanli trembled, with fury or fear she could not discern. “How could they do such a thing to him? Three hundred lashes...What about Lan-er-gongzi? What punishment did he receive?!"

Rising from his seat, their father sighed deeply, folding his hands behind him. “Unfortunately, the fault lies with us.”

Nothing then. Typical. 

Jiang Cheng made a frustrated noise. “Us?! How could the fault be with us?! That's bullshit!”

But Madam Yu, for once, agreed with her husband. “We all know that Wei Wuxian is a notorious flirt. It's hardly surprising that something like that would -”

“A-niang that isn't true!” Both Jiang children exclaimed at the same time. 

“But A-Xian and Hanguang-jun were caught in the act,” Their father admonished them, displeased with their tone. “There were multiple eye witnesses.” 

Eye witnesses. Jiang Yanli could only imagine what that meant. Surely they were not found in...in bed together. Multiple eye witnesses, no surely not. It couldn’t be as bad as that. At best, at best... at best it was something akin to what she’d seen. A misplaced hand, a misconstrued embrace... a kiss - 

No, no, even that would be too much.  

“...rolling around in the grass like a heathen, taking Hanguang-jun down with him -” 

Jiang Yanli’s head snapped up at her mother’s vivid description of the event. Her words echoed what she had heard in Lanling from the maids and disciples and Zixuan’s cousins. That A-Xian and Lan Wangji were found lying together in the grass, with her brother sitting astride the Second Jade, bent over, exchanging more than just whispers. 

A-Xian, A-Xian how am I supposed to help you now...what can I do now? 

Tears dissolved her vision into fractals of colours and light. She turned away from her family as the first of them began to fall. Mother never liked her tears, and Father never knew what to do with them. 

Her brother A-Cheng, however, could not be stopped once he got started, and whatever ignited him before Jiang Yanli arrived had clearly sparked a wild fire that burned through the last of Jiang Wanyin’s patience with this family. 

"Rolling around in the grass?! Then it must be Lan Wangji's fault! You've all mistaken Wei Wuxian. Yes he's loud and obnoxious and chatty, but that's it! If people mistaken him for a scoundrel, it's only because he's friendly and talkative and doesn't have a filter half the time.”

Jiang Cheng took a breath, shifting his glance from his mother to his father, who stared at him with something akin to shock and an emotion he couldn’t quite place. 

“I know him, a-die, a-niang.” Jiang Cheng continued, quieter. “Wei Wuxian, he's - he's - he was a virgin before he married.” A heated blush bloomed across his cheeks, but he pushed through the embarrassment. “A-Xian was a huge virgin! He's never even held hands with anyone!"

Exasperated, Yu Ziyuan rolled her eyes at her son, as if his arguments were nothing but the antics of a naive child. "Son, you can't know that -"

"I do know that because I know him!" Jiang Cheng protested fiercely, both red in the face and around his eyes now. He was close to tears too. 

"And that Lan Wangji,” he spat with obvious disdain, “Cloud Recesses' disciples are all scared of him. Everyone knows he is cold and disagreeable! If you don't believe me, ask Jin Zixuan! A-jie, you were at Cloud Recesses too with us, is that not what the females disciples say? That he never smiles, never talks, never mingles with anyone! Gusu Lan wants to feed us the tale that Wei Wuxian, within a span of a year, went from completely inexperienced to seducing the most unsociable man of our generation?! I refuse to believe it! Who's to say A-Xian is at fault? Who's to say Lan Wangji isn't a....a... secret sex fiend!"

Jiang Cheng’s outcry silenced the whole room. Jiang Yanli felt a bubble of hysteria rising in her chest. Things were starting to spin out of control. 

“Jiang Cheng!” Jiang Fengmian scolded. “You watch your language in front your elders, and you sister.” 

At that, Jiang Yanli whipped her sleeve back in annoyance, raising her voice for the first time since this whole ordeal began, “Oh please a-die, I have a baby son!”

A-Xian’s life and future hung in the balance and language was where he drew the line? Not the three hundred or so lashes?! 

Dropping the letter onto the table, she took a deep breath and gathered herself. Now was no time to let her emotions get the best of her. 

“When did they say the incident was?” She asked. 

“Two days ago,” replied her father. 

Two days ago and already most of Jinlintai is well versed in the details of the scandal? Jiang Yanli believed in the power of gossip to spread like an infection, but even so, the speed at which this specific piece of information disseminated struck her as particularly malignant. 

Gusu Lan would’ve wanted to contain it. To save face but also to not push Yunmeng Jiang to the brink. This is an alliance after all. Marriage is one thing, but the stability of our sects is another all together. 

But the containment clearly didn’t turn out as intended. Whatever machination was behind this, the proverbial cat was out of the bag and there was no reversing its effects. Had it been simple a family matter, Jiang Yanli would not doubt her parents’ ability to wrangle some kind of compromise from the onerous traditionalists whom Cloud Recesses revered as their Elders. 

和离 heli - an amicable separation. That was the best course of action, to save face and to preserve the peace between their clans. 

But with rumours festering in every corner of their realm, passed from mouth to ear and mouth to ear again, embellished and dramatized along the way, it was not feasible anymore to settle this under the table.

More than just the relationship between three individuals, the reputation and dignity of two major clans rested on the line. 

As a married woman in this world, Jiang Yanli knew as much as her mother knew, as much as any women knew, that this line was more often than not painted with blood. 

“Did Gusu Lan voice any demands from us?”

“Not as of yet,” Jiang Fengmian replied. “Though, they invited your mother and I to Cloud Recesses in a week’s time to discuss what to do be done. They did not say in as many words, but we must prepare ourselves for the possibility that they intend to ‘xiu’fu’.”

Yanli gasped, “They want to ‘xiu’ A-Xian?” For something that was at best only half his fault?

‘xiu’fu’ was not just a divorce. It was a condemnation, like discarding a pair of used old shoes, dregs to be tossed out. It was the fate of almost every woman found guilty of betraying her marriage bed, and some for reasons even less than that. The unfortunates who were ‘xiu’-ed by their husbands could never wash themselves clean of the stain upon their persons. They lived a ruined life, a half-life plagued by gossips and scorn, not...that they lived all that long in the end.

A-Xian may not be a woman, but theirs was a gendered society, and his marrying out of Yunmeng Jiang and into Gusu Lan had fixed his position in a lower stratum. Because of this, his outcome would not be much better.  

The horrifying truth was, Jiang Yanli could not dispute that Gusu Lan Sect and Lan Xichen were well within their rights to do whatever they damn well pleased. 

Except they cannot deny that Lan Wangji is just as culpable. That is the only card we have left to play... 

While she struggled internally with the fine minutiae of social niceties, her brother Jiang Cheng’s thoughts were going down an entirely different path. 

“Why is it that none of you are indignant?!” He stomped his feet, fist clenched and shaking. “Have you for one second even considered that maybe Wei Wuxian wasn’t even a willing participant? That Lan Wangji had - had forced himself on - on...” A-Cheng trailed off, the end of that sentence too gruesome to complete. His meaning, however, was lost on no one. 

Jiang Yanli sighed, touched by the extent of A-Cheng’s concern. Though perhaps in this one instance, he really did overreach. Not that this wouldn’t be a possibility of course, and had the accused been her and not A-Xian, and the man been - hm say Jin Zixun- and not Lan Wangji, then what he suggested would be at the forefront of their parents’ suspicions. Except Wei Wuxian was not Jiang Yanli. Zewu-jun did not marry him solely for his pretty face. By all standards, he was a proficient cultivator, even more powerful now that he’s matured and come into his own. That anyone could wrangled him on his back for that kind of purpose was indeed not very likely, and besides - 

“Lan Zhan, would you like to hold him? Hold Rulan?” 

“Mn? Looks heavy.” 

“Lan Zhan!” 

No, decided Jiang Yanli, her brother’s laughter still echoing in her memory. It was far more plausible that this love affair was more love than affair, which was why the wound it would inevitably leave behind for both A-Xian and Lan Wangji would be that much harder to heal.  

She turned her attention back to Jiang Cheng, who had picked up on his tirade again and ploughed forth uninhibited. 

“Look at you both. Look at this family, if it even is that at all! Wei Wuxian is at Cloud Recesses right now, suffering, and none of you even care! You only care about what this will do to Lotus Pier's image. A-die, you claim to love him, doted on him his whole life, but where are you now that he needs you?! A-niang, Cangse Sanren is dead. She did not raise him, you did! And even if he is Father’s son, so what, so what?! Has he not done everything you ever asked him? Has he not made Lotus Pier proud? Do you even know how many bastards Jin Guangshan has floating around unclaimed?! Yunmeng only has one Wei Wuxian, and blood or not, I only have one brother!"

Jiang Cheng broke off abruptly, face wet with tears. He made a rough swipe at them with his sleeves, but spoke no more. Jiang Yanli wasn’t sure if it was because his audacity had shocked even himself or if he had realized that any more unfiltered outbursts and Madam Yu really would let him have a taste of Zidian’s sting. 

Knowing he had unloaded a lot of bold words that were the epitome of impertinent behaviour, and not wishing to stick around to find out their consequences, Jiang Cheng grabbed Sandu and spun on his heels. 

Purple electricity zipped through the air as the whip tail clacked against the door frame, jolting him sideways. 

“Where do you think you’re going boy? Stop at once!"

"I'm going to Cloud Recesses and getting my brother back! If Gusu Lan doesn't want him, then I will not leave him there to be abused! He deserves to come home, and to hell with them!"

“A-Cheng, A-Cheng, didi, wait, wait!” Jiang Yanli rushed to his side, stopping him in his track. “Impulsivity solves nothing. We cannot rush this. A-die, a-niang, A-Cheng has obviously had quite a shock, as we all have. He isn’t himself; please forgive him for his earlier rudeness. I’ll take him out to the river to cool off. Come, A-Cheng, come along.” 

Begrudgingly, Jiang Cheng allowed himself to be dragged away by his sister. 

“Not a word from you until we’re out of earshot,” she whispered to him. 

Wilting, he obeyed. 

Jiang Yanli kept a tight grip on this brother of hers. She knew she had to think of a solution quickly and carefully. If not, then by the week’s end, A-Cheng could very well be the only brother she had left.   

[part 4]

[patientfocusly]

major canon divergences 

( i don’t expect anyone to read this because it’s a lot lmao. this is more so for me to have a reference because i forget things about my own muse / canon rip. if we’re rping together we’re probably also talking ooc so anything important from this post will be mentioned to you at some point. )

( please note that by canon, i’m referring to my general main verse which includes no interactions with other muses. each interaction with a muse is put into its own verse. new interactions can come into the main verse at any point of the timeline and then diverge from that point. )

does not marry curtis. they noticed each other because they worked closely as part of the atlas crew and maybe if the time and place were different there might’ve been a chance for them to get to know each other and form something but for shiro, there is a lot weighing on his mind that he needs to wade through

( a ) shiro has been thru Sum shit and he has an endless list of reasons to be sad but i just want to make it known that shiro’s no. 1 source of guilt and just general mind-anguish is the fact that he is living in a borrowed body, that he took from someone who had to die for him to live. 

( b ) at this stage he is also coming in touch with his feeling for keith which have been with him for a while, so even if he was aware of other potential interests . . . he’s not actually interested back.

adam is alive. he was critically injured in the first wave of attack by sendak and recovered enough only to provide ground support for the second wave. he remains an officer of the garrison and heads training and recruitment. he does not fly again. he’s happily married and reaches out to shiro. they’re amicable, but not close friends. maybe eventually they will be. ( this will obviously not be the case if i’m writing with an adam. )

allura is alive – i need to rewatch the end of season 8 to figure out how, but she’s alive.

after a year or so of captaining the atlas, the need for atlas to be an offensive military ship decreases and shiro consults sam and pidge for their thoughts on deweaponising his prosthesis. The new arm is still powered by allura’s crystal but looks more similar to the galra arm ( except it starts at the shoulder since his bicep??? disappeared magically ), but it’s coloured white and light grey, and the lit up areas are aqua ( same as the crystal. )

speaking of the crystal . . .  the original arm was designed to operate via a balmera crystal, because that’s what most of altean designs are based off of. however they didn’t have a crystal to use, and sam says the remaining energy required for the armto work would be drawn from shiro’s own electromagnetic field. he tries it for the first time and . . . his body rejects it, in what looks like an incredibly painful and potentially fatal way, if it hadn’t been for allura stepping in and replacing the original energy source for the arm with the crystal from her tiara. we don’t ever find out why shiro’s body rejected the first energy source but here are 2 theories:

( a ) shiro’s body is actually kuron’s body, a clone, manufactured by haggar, using ~space science~ and likely some form of quintessence. the electro magnetic field coming off of the clone’s body would vary to that of a human’s, which is what sam would’ve based his calculations on. balmera crystals have incredible properties that aren’t really explained in great detail but we know how powerful they can be, regardless of size. 

( b ) because it’s kuron’s body, maybe the connection to haggar didn’t completely shut off when keith cut off the arm. that flash that happens when the arm connects and shiro’s body starts rejecting it is very similar to the flash that happens when haggar starts controlling kuron earlier ( better explained in this headcanon piece. ) my only issue with this headcanon is that it implies haggar may still have some degree of control over shiro, and I just………….it’s been so overused, i just don’t want that for shiro anymore, so i’m most likely sticking to theory a !!!!!

still on the subject of the crystal, let’s talk about what shiro says after allura places the balmera crystal in his arm ; “i feel strange . . . i feel – great !” strange, as in he’s feeling something he’s never quite felt before. this is in contrast to what he feels when the first energy source is used in his arm ; “i feel . . . good,” but he sounds hesitant, like he doesn’t feel good at all, and obviously we see why moments afterwards. the great part is emphasised. he almost seems excited, like he really does feel great, and the scene cuts off with him trialling his arm by making a fist, and smiling. again, the properties of the crystals are pretty much undefined, but they are an immense source of power – what allura’s tiara contains is likely more than enough required to power shiro’s arm, and going back to how allura operated the castleship, and how shiro is able to operate the atlas, i’m loosely headcanoning that the crystal acts as a link between “captain” and “ship”, though obviously, allura herself channels quintessence and has so much more capabilities as a “captain.” 

what does the crystal providing an energy source for not only the new prosthesis, but also shiro’s body mean for shiro? an external boost of energy and human-compatible quintessence is probably the first dose of anything resembling treatment shiro has had since the kerberos mission. i don’t see the balmera crystal nor altean healing pods having the power to edit genes but as far as healing goes, it must have some effect in alleviating pain and / or fatigue for shiro to exclaim, “i feel great !”

( a ) sometimes it’s difficult to write in a universe set in the future because things of our current reality ( social injustices, shit politics, technological limitations etc. ) may not be a reality say 100 years in the future, and add space and alien technology to the mix and you’re sort of left with a lot of potential for creation and imagination and progression but also hindered by the reality of present day and representing present day. i wouldn’t want to “magic” away shiro’s disease or magically come up with a cure, but at the same time i don’t want to take away the possibility for him to be potentially cured ( which is what the “i feel great !” line hints towards ) just because of the limitations of today ???????? i’m just having an inner conflict over this - i will update what i decide when i decide !! 

major fanon divergences

does not qualify as space dad. it simultaneously infantilises the other paladins and takes away from their own journeys of being forced to grow up too quickly and take on the responsibility of fighting in a war, and puts undue stress on shiro who is only ~25 himself responsible for his team only in the role of their commanding officer at best

his prosthetic arm is not a sex toy, it’s a prosthesis ( refer to this post on arm related bed time activities )

shiro did not have a romantic connection with keith pre-kerberos. if anything the earliest signs of anything resembling a romantic connection would be late into season 2, but that is pending heavy plotting

shiro came from a happy family . . . he just lost almost all of it very early on. he grew up loved even though he learnt about loss too quickly ( please refer to this headcanon. )

shiro cannot sing lol . . . i dont know where this headcanon came from, but it’s sticking

i think it’s popular headcanon for shiro to have a little sister, or a big family; i wrote his backstory with his older sister before i came across this, so i’m sticking to my original headcanon because his bond with his sister is so strongly formed in my head  

shiro is not afraid of death . . . but he doesn’t want to die. i feel like his relationship with death needs its own post but the tl;dr version of it is that he had a timer put on his life when he was around 17 years old. life goes from seemingly endless to suddenly very very short ( not just in the sense that his lifespan is predicted to be shorter, but that his body will soon restrict him in movement and opportunity. ) and then kerberos happens, and the arena happens, and voltron and zarkon and he’s reminded that life is short regardless of whether they give you a timer at 17. any moment could be his last and shiro has had a long time to come to terms with this. it makes him incredibly grateful for the present, and of what he’s had in the past. it also is potentially why he prioritises a mission that will take him to see the stars, over a relationship with adam ten years down the track.

if anyone makes it this far . . . ur the real mvp, thank u for reading my brain ramblings <3

[wannabealexjenningscoffee]

Performing Hamlet : actors in the modern age 

by Jonathan Croall

In 1997 it was Alex Jennings' turn to play Hamlet for the Royal Shakespeare Company, directed by Matthew Warchus at Stratford and the Barbican in London. The following year the production was staged at the Kennedy Centre in Washington, and at the Opera House of the Brooklyn Academy of Music, New York.

Cast: Claudius: Paul Freeman, Gertrude: Susannah York, Laertes: William Houston, Horatio: Colin Hurley, Polonius: David Ryall, Ophelia: Derbhle Crotty, Player King/Ghost: Edward Petherbridge, Gravedigger: Paul Jesson. 

I know that by cutting the play you could diminish it, but by cutting a couple of courses from a banquet you can make the flavours sharper and richer.

This was Matthew Warchus' argument for his decision to cut around a third of Shakespeare's text for his stylised, modern-dress RSC production of Hamlet. Conflating the three existing versions of the play, his aim was to focus on the domestic story, since 'Hamlet is a play absolutely saturated with the words father, mother, sister, brother, son, daughter, uncle'. He further explained: 'I feel that what I am doing is taking the play out of the hands of the academics and intellectuals and bringing it back into the area of relationships', adding that 'more than any other play I have directed, I am doing this with my heart, not my head'.

In this modern Elsinore the two families lived together with their staff in an isolated house. The play began with Alex Jennings' Hamlet holding his father's ashes in an urn at the front of the stage, then scattering them on the ground in front of a screen, on which a black-and-white home movie showed him as a boy, playing in the snow with his father and running joyfully into his arms. Simultaneously the audience heard over the speakers Claudius announcing 'Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death the memory be green'.

The screen was then flown away, casting Hamlet into a raucous, vulgar party celebrating his mother's wedding to Claudius, with balloons, fireworks and bridesmaids, with champagne corks popping, pop music blaring, coloured lights flashing - 'a gaudy purple disco' as one critic described it - and Claudius groping Susannah York's smiling Gertrude in foll view of the guests. Lurking on the sidelines, Hamlet took polaroid photos of Claudius, which he would later use in the closet scene to show Gertrude the contrasting images of her two husbands. The first scene was cut, the Ghost instead initially appearing at the party in a smoking jacket, speaking to Hamlet about 'murder most foul', then drifting away.

Jennings' disturbed Prince, occasionally drawing on a cigarette, was clearly on the edge of a nervous breakdown. He spoke 'To be or not to be' with a pistol pointed at his head, then carried it around in a paper bag, and considered using it when be came across Claudius at prayer. Soon after he employed it to kill Polonius, and in the final scene, after Claudius had drunk the poison, he fired a bullet into his dying body. 

The play-within-a-play provided a striking image: Robert Smallwood described 'the eerie, jerky presentation of The Murder of Gonzaga as a shadow play on a screen, in front of which Hamlet pranced in a brilliant crimson jacket, white face and painted-on smile - circus master, clown, MC - and the shadow of Lucian us, bending to administer the poison, loomed huge and distorted in front of Paul Freeman's suave, expensively suited Claudius, while Hamlet joined in with sing-song recitation of the incriminating lines, until even the hard-headed self-control of the usurper could take no more'. With Fortinbras and the attendant politics excluded, the play ended with 'And flight of angels sing thee to thy rest'; Horatio's voice was then heard over the speakers announcing 'all this can I/ Truly deliver'. 

In a diary piece published during the run Jennings admitted: 'I never particularly wanted to play the part. Adrian Noble, the RSC's artistic director, asked me; I was quite surprised, but there was no possibility of saying no - it seemed slightly churlish, and I knew I probably wouldn't get the opportunity again, as I was fast approaching forty.' He also mentioned his recurrent back problem. 'On stage, the adrenalin takes over, but sometimes I notice it. Hamlet is quite physical; you're on stage for four hours and you are knackered by the end of it, physically and mentally.' 

After playing the role twice in one day in a matinee and evening performance, he confessed to being 'absolutely exhausted'. We have a lie-down between shows, and I get up feeling a bit punchy before the second one. I don't do any special preparation; I just try to empty my head and see what happens, see what the words do. What's so wonderful about Hamlet is that you are never going to be definitive; you just have to try to tell the story in a clear and fresh way. Luckily the play is pretty good, so it supports you, and there's always something else to be mined from it. 

His exhaustion found expression that night: 'Something went wrong with the sound system. I broke a prop in a fit of pique in the wings - Hamlet's father's urn. I threw it at the table. I don't usually do that kind of thing.' There was Smallwood observed, 'no denying the production's absorbing and exciting theatricality'. He also admired Jennings, who spoke with all that intelligent, graceful command of the verse that one has come to expect of him, and made one feel the isolation and pain of Hamlet with unrelenting intensity.' Ann O'Bryan praised him for 'a magnificent tour de force of verse speaking. He's a brilliant master of Shakespeare's verse, and here in a deliberately downbeat conversational tone he makes every thought crystal clear as if newly minted, so that the sense and the beauty of the poetry shine through.' Charles Spencer was less sympathetic: 'Jennings's pistol-toting Hamlet had warmth, charm and a wry self-mo king humour, without ever penetrating the play's depths. This was Hamlet Lite.'

In 1998 the production moved to Brooklyn, as the opening play in a five-play RSC eason. It met a harsher critical reception than it had in England. In the New York Times Ben Brantley criticised Warchu for providing what is less a thoroughgoing interpretation than a series of noisy distraction ... The evening is shot through with adrenalin, and it features a few stunning images but at the sacrifice of any emotional continuity and often clarity of plot. Tremendous effort has obviously been exerted to bring freshness to familiar scenes and speeches, which are sometimes tossed off at such a speed as to be incomprehensible. The overall effect is one of bright sparks of electricity without any flowing current ... As an interpretation of Shakespeare's most introspective play, it sticks exasperatingly close to its showy surface. 

Allan Wallach was similarly uneasy:

By now, unfortunately, these kinds of modernising devices have hardened into trendy cliches. Here, they become substitutes for a point of view; the production seems to have little on its mind but costumes and cleverness ... With very little heft to the characters, the tragic elements are curiously remote. Even when the lines are impassioned, you don't feel the emotion driving the characters ... While the RSC may be right to strive for more inventive ways to rage a classic, the result here doesn't give the play overall the dimensions it demands.

[missusk]

Pecha Berries

A Pokemon Shield Nuzlocke Story.

Chapter 5 - Dusk

[Team Roster: Jackson (Raboot), Bella (Yamper), Lacey (Wooloo), Sap (Charjabug), Hudson (Mudbray), Posey (Eevee)]

“I’ve lived around Wooloo for years and I still can’t get a hang of this,” Dolly panted, shoving her body against the Wooloo. “Come on, why won’t you budge? The rest of your mates are already in the pen!”

Dolly looked to the pen corralling the nineteen other Wooloo. They were slowly meandering around the pen and...out of the pen. She would grow old and die here in this bloody Gym mission at this rate. Dolly let out an exasperated huff.

“If all your friends rolled off a cliff, would you do it?” the Wooloo responded glumly, chewing on the grass as the rest of the Wooloo meandered back around the simulated pasture. Dolly resisted the urge to strangle it.

“Why’d you listen to Hop, huh? What’d he do differently than I’m doing?”

The Wooloo gasped, inhaling the grass it was chewing on. Surprisingly it didn’t react - maybe that was another aspect of Pokémon physiology Dolly was never going to understand.

“You know THE Hop?!” the Wooloo asked incredulously, whipping around. Dolly flopped to the ground with a thwump.

The rest of the Wooloo all lifted their heads in unison with an excited gasp.

“HOP?!”

“You know Hop?!” another Wooloo asked.

“Hop’s the greatest!”

“I love Hop!”

“I’m IN LOVE with Hop!”

“WHERE IS HE?!”

The Wooloo all bleated happily from around the pasture. Dolly smacked her forehead. Of course. Of course. No wonder Hop said he breezed past this mission, while Dolly was doomed to sit there for the rest of her life. A lightbulb clicked above her head.

“What if I told you he’s at the end of this Gym mission?” she said, slowly drumming her fingers together.

After a beat, the Wooloo all erupted into a simultaneous, “YAAAAAY!”

“But you’ve all got to run into the pens and help me get to those stairs at the end!” she called, trying to make herself heard from above the bleating (and one yelling) Wooloo.

In an instant the Wooloo exploded through the pen. The counter counted twenty, and the next gate opened. Dolly jogged to keep up, assuming the Yampers and Trainers around would block the path of the Wooloo, but the herd annihilated every bush and shrub unlucky enough to be in the way. The Yampers tried to bark but to no avail, each one only jumping out of the way quickly enough to avoid the stampede of infatuated Wooloo.

A few League staff glared at her as she approached the final staircase as they tried to catch the Wooloo who were now freely rolling around the entire room, breaking through the hedges and wooden signs. Whoops.

She trotted up the steel staircase, offered the cameras a guilty wave as confetti poofed around her, and headed through the doors to the stadium.

She could feel the crowd’s cheers like vibrations in the air as suspense trickled into her blood. The first Gym and final Gym. She made her way through the tunnel toward the light of the stadium, her heart beating in her ears. The old determination began coursing in her veins, the desire for competition replacing any semblance of fear. The same light flickered on again, blazing into a roaring fire as she stepped onto the pitch.

Cheers roared from around her as audience members waved their banners into the air. She couldn’t resist beaming a smile at them and waving to the Rotom camera that flitted about the field. She met Milo in the middle, his smile matching hers.

“Since my Gym is the first, we get a lot of Challengers. I try to keep my mission challenging but that didn’t stop you from completing it! That was uh...quite the unorthodox strategy. I have never seen them behave like that…” he finished, scratching his chin.

“Guess I’m just...really good with Pokémon?” Dolly shrugged, guilty sweat prickling on her brow.

“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” Milo said with a grin. “Ready to go against your first ever Gym Leader?”

Dolly nodded curtly, determination burning in her eyes. She gripped Jackson’s Poké Ball and Leader and Challenger turned, taking their places on opposing sides of the pitch.

Dolly breathed in through her nose, out through her mouth as she tossed Jackson’s Poké Ball up and down. It popped into the air and fell in rhythm with her heartbeat, the sweat from her non-gloved hand slipping it up easily. She closed her eyes, felt the vibration of the crowd, leaned her arm back, and threw.

In an eruption of cheers and a flash of light, her Raboot appeared before them, darting back and forth on the pitch. Little spurts of fire exploded beneath his feet and the grin on his face was identical to his Trainer’s.

This is what she had been missing. This is what she was waiting for: the eruption from the spectators, the power oozing from Jackson, their bond electrified in a single current as he flawlessly executed her commands. He tore throughout the pitch, spitting balls of flame at Milo’s Gossifleur. It didn’t take long before the Pokémon was defeated.

Milo grinned from across the pitch, giving a silent nod of approval. He sent out his next Pokémon and an Eldegoss appeared before them.

“Come on then, it’s Dynamax time! You’re about to be uprooted!”

Milo called Eldegoss back to him and a sharp white light surrounded his wrist as his Poké Ball grew huge. He gave it a loving pat and hurled it into the space behind him.

Dolly’s jaw dropped as she watched his Pokémon grow to momentous proportions. What normally would have weighed barely six pounds now smashed to the ground, a crater forming beneath the weight of the behemoth Pokémon. The crowd roared, breaking out into a song-like chant as the Eldegoss cried into the air.

Dolly hardly had time to be afraid as the Pokémon loomed before her. Instead, an eruption of adrenaline burst within her chest and rushed through her veins. She could hardly contain it as she called Jackson back to his Poké Ball. A huge grin broke over her face, her Wishing Star bracelet shining as she hurled Jackson’s massive Poké Ball into the air behind her.

Her grin never wavered as she commanded her monumental Pokémon to blast a geyser of flames into their opponent. She needed no practice from the Wild Area’s glowing red dens, as commanding her Dynamaxed Pokémon came as second-nature as breathing, as natural as the sweat that flung off her forehead, dripped down her back, pooled behind her knees as she ordered him forward in a blaze of heat.

After one final blast, Milo’s Eldegoss called out again, as if in a melody to the chorus of spectators singing around them, and fell to the pitch below. Dolly’s heart pounded in tandem with the final verse of the audience’s song, her veins pulsing in unison as they cheered her name. Life burned in her as Jackson shrunk to his regular size, then rushed up to her side. They both jumped into the air as Milo returned Eldegoss to its Poké Ball.

Victory.

Milo gave her a smile and a nod from across the pitch as he made his way toward her again. They met in the middle, the cheers from the crowd still surrounding her like sparkling, glittering confetti. She wiped her brow and gave a grin as the Rotom camera flitted around her face.

“That must have been a fulfilling battle for you! You have quite the way with Pokémon,” Milo grinned, holding his hat to his chest. “Allow me to present you with your very own Grass Badge.”

As she took the tiny golden Badge the crowd cheered behind her, the sound swelled in her heart, in her body, as she looked around the stadium. The cheers from the crowd satiated her desire for that ‘something’ that she had so hungered for when sitting on her couch and watching Pokémon battles through a screen.

Perhaps one more Gym couldn’t hurt.

Dolly thought that yeah, perhaps just after Hulbury she could head back to Postwick. One more battle with a Gym Leader, one more chance to feel that blazing passion in her bones, then she would call it quits.

Milo guided her off the pitch, still complimenting her battle style. She paused for a second when she saw a child holding a fuzzy Wooloo toy in the stands. She would have to wrangle Hop in with them somehow, but she’d rather get an earful from her mate then risk being run over by those twenty infatuated Wooloo.

“Say, Milo,” she started, wringing her hands together. “I might have promised something to a, uh...large group. You wouldn’t mind letting me borrow...all of your Wooloo for a bit, would you?”

He gave her a quizzical look and nodded suspiciously as they finally left the stadium.

Milo saw her and Hop off to the next town after letting her borrow his Wooloo barrage. Hop kindly obliged her request, giving each infatuated Wooloo a pat and a kiss on the forehead. One of them passed out, but beside that, no other strange incidents transpired.

She and Hop made their way across the massive brick bridge leading to Hulbury, Hop locking his hands behind his head.

“That’s probably the strangest thing I’ve done in a while,” he said. “I feel like my lips are raw from all that Wooloo love I had to give out thanks to you,”

“Yeah, I owe you one. I didn’t want to get pummeled in my sleep by a stampede of Wooloo...you saw how they acted during my Gym mission,” Dolly laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of her head.

“Challenger Dolly owing future Champion Hop a favor, huh? That is a tempting offer,” he grinned. “Perhaps I can mull it over through a Pokémon battle? We’ve both got our Grass Badges now,”

Dolly grinned as well, pausing as he turned in front of her. He already had his Poké Ball out, tossing it up into the air.

“Something tells me you won’t take no for an answer,” she said, already reaching into her bag as well. “I know just the Pokémon for this,”

She tossed out Posey’s ball as Hop tossed out his Wooloo. Her Eevee hopped back and forth, a determined grin on her face as she locked eyes with the Wooloo. When she looked up to Hop tossing the Poké Ball, suddenly she began to cower. Her tail shot between her hind legs.

“Posey?” Dolly asked, watching the scene unfold as her Eevee slowly backed away from Wooloo and Hop.

Suddenly Posey shook her head and scuttled back to her Trainer. Dolly knelt as Posey jumped into her arms, shaking.

“I can’t, I can’t do it,” she whimpered into the fuzz on Dolly’s jacket. “I’m not strong enough, I’m not good at battling, I’ll just make you lose,”

“What are you talking about? I thought you liked battling?” Dolly asked, stroking the fur on Posey's head.

“Not against Trainers,” she whispered, quickly glancing back to Hop. “Just send out someone else…”

“Are you sure?” Dolly asked, motioning to Hop to pause. “You’ve been doing great so far, you have one of the highest levels on the team,”

“I’ve never battled a Trainer before... What if I lose? I’m scared, Dolly,”

“Well, I won’t make you battle, even though I know you can win.” she said, letting out a melancholy sigh. Then, she looked back and forth suspiciously, and leaned in to whisper into Posey’s ear. “And a Wingull told me that this Wooloo is only level two,”

“He is not,” Posey said as a smile inched onto her face.

Dolly shrugged. After a moment she pat Posey on the head again.

“I won’t make you battle, Posey, but something I’ve learned recently is that if you don’t sometimes do the things that terrify you, you won’t ever grow.”

Dolly stood again, reaching into her pocket for Posey’s Poké Ball. She held it out, raising an eyebrow. Her Eevee glanced from the ball, to her Trainer, to Hop across the way. A new light seemed to dawn in her eyes as her Trainer smiled at her. Posey took in a breath.

“Alright, I’ll try,”

Dolly grinned, clenching her fists.

“That’s all I ask, Posey, I know you can do it!”

Her Eevee turned, setting her paws sturdily into the brick and dirt beneath. A new fire seemed to swirl about her, and Dolly gave Hop a thumbs up to continue their battle.

Dolly couldn’t help but let out a laugh as Posey performed just as she knew she could - gracefully, powerfully, and before they knew it, Hop’s last Pokémon hit the ground.

“We both got ourselves the same Grass Badge, so how come you’re so much stronger?!” Hop huffed, scratching his head.

Dolly grinned as Posey ran back to her.

“I did it Dolly, I did it! I even leveled up, too!”

Dolly smiled and hugged her Eevee.

“I told you could! I’m so proud of you, Posey!” she smiled into her Eevee’s fur.

“And I can get even stronger, I know it! When can I evolve, Dolly? What should I be when I grow up? A Flareon? Umbreon? Vaporeon, maybe? We don’t have any Water-types, that would be so cool!”

Hop smiled too as he watched the two of them. He stepped over to the pair, and Posey let him pat her on the head as well.

“You’ve gotten strong, Dolls. Seems I’ve got to train even harder from now on,”

They fell into step again as they continued across the bridge to Hulbury.

“I’ve never seen you like this before,” Hop said from beside her.

She glanced up at him, and his brow was furrowed slightly. Suddenly, he stopped and looked at her.

“It’s like you have a whole new life in you.”

“Yeah, it...it feels good,” she said, more to herself than to her friend. She looked down to her hands, then to her Eevee who was gazing up at her with so much love. She could feel her heart swell.

“I’m glad you’re doing the Gym Challenge with me,” he said, brow still furrowed. “Even just seeing you talk to your Eevee like that before we battled...it’s starting to make sense why Lee wanted to endorse you too. It’s like that fire in you ignited the fire in Posey as well.”

“Oh, well, that was nothing...she just needed some encouragement is all…” Dolly said, her face flushing pink.

“Look at you, being all modest,” Hop laughed quietly.

He paused again as his eyes flit about her face. Her cheeks grew warmer as she kicked at the dirt. She tried to mumble out a retort, but the way he was looking at her was pretty distracting.

“What?” she grumbled, shoving her hands in her pockets. Why did he keep looking at her like that? Ever since Motostoke his gaze always seemed to linger just a second too long.

“Just thinking about how I’ll finally beat you after I get my Water Badge,” he said.

When Dolly raised an eyebrow at him, he finally broke into a grin. She rolled her eyes and waved goodbye to Hop as he rushed to Hulbury, desperate to take on Nessa before she did. She and Posey continued walking along the bridge, taking in the view of the Wild Area.

Wingulls flew about the bridge, coasting through the air the closer she walked to Hulbury. Even though it hadn’t been incredibly long since she began this trek, she was surprised at how easy battling came back to her. That, and even how easily communicating with her Pokémon had become. Sure, there were times that Jackson acted even more like a moody teenager since evolving, or Hudson would only shrug instead of answering a question, but thinking back to her battle alongside Posey really made her wonder. At the time it was just to encourage Posey to try, try, try again, but perhaps what she said impacted her more than she thought. It had been such a rush of commotion and emotion up until now, she never really took the time to fully think that yes, she was indeed terrified.

She was terrified of losing another Pokémon, another friend. She was terrified of broadcasting her introverted self across the nation. She was terrified the most, though, of having to return to boredom. She had been doing the things that terrified her, and she had already noticed growth within her. Those thoughts took a back seat as she finally emerged from the Hulbury tunnel, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

Dolly looked about the port town, a smile gracing her face as the salty air breezed over her. It had been a long time since she smelled the ocean, and this was a pleasant surprise. Fishers chatted and laughed as their fishing poles swung behind them, and joggers gave polite waves as they trekked through the port town. The gray cobblestone road tied the charming town together, weaving in front of bold-colored houses and connecting them, the downtown, and the market, all to the sparkling sea at the edge of town.

She continued down the main road, looking about for the next Gym and she caught the tail end of a conversation from three people standing in the road. She recognized one as Bede, especially when he shot that now-familiar glare at her. When she approached, the man in the group called out to her, and Bede said his farewell and sauntered off into Hulbury.

The two other people turned, one a tall, elegant blonde woman with icy blue eyes. Dolly had seen this woman before - she was a League staff member, one of the higher-ups, too. If Dolly remembered correctly, her name was Oleana. She had a glamorous name to go with gorgeous hair, face, and style.

The other was a tubby, middle-aged man who had a much warmer ambiance about him. As soon as he lifted his sunglasses and smiled, Dolly felt her heart quicken again as she was met with striking green eyes.

Oh boy.

Rose approached her again as he had in the Motostoke atrium, grasping her hand in his.

Ooh boy.

“Ah, Dolly, was it? So nice to see you again. We were just talking about you,”

Dolly’s eyes widened. Her? Why? Did she have something in her teeth when they last talked? Was he talking about how the guiding light of the Wishing Stars led them to each other? That their meeting was fated by the cosmos? Or did they watch those Wooloo obliterate Milo’s entire stadium thanks to her? Although she was undefeated thus far, that didn’t mean she had a ton of pocket change for stadium renovations.

He released her hand and placed his in the pockets of his blue polka-dot shorts. Even in casual summer wear he was enrapturing.

“I must admit I’m curious as to Leon’s reasons for endorsing you,” Rose said. Suddenly his eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands together. “Ah! I just had a brilliant idea, as I tend to do. You’re going to face Gym Leader Nessa soon, yes? If you get a Gym Badge from her, I’ll hold a celebration. I’d like to get to know you a little better, after all.”

It took every fiber of her being to not fall over from shock and ecstasy at his comment. And that warm smile. He wanted to get to know her? A dinner date with just the two of them? With him and those green eyes gazing at her so captivatingly? She might just die right here. She probably still had mud in her hair... He was truly a gentleman of the highest caliber. This Curse could take a backseat if all she needed to do was get one more Badge. One more, a fancy dinner with the one and only Mr. Rose, and then she’d go home. Or maybe he’d whisk her away to some fancy after party or something? Then she would go home.

Oleana whispered into the Chairman’s ear, breaking their trance, and Rose smiled at Dolly again.

“Please, do your best for the sake of Galar’s future,” he said, and turned into Hulbury. Dolly didn’t realize her mouth was hanging open until Oleana turned to her, the warmth of the air evaporating immediately.

“The chairman will be heading to this town’s seafood restaurant. Win the Gym Badge and meet him there at once. Do not keep him waiting.”

This lady didn’t have to tell her twice. Dolly walked as elegantly as she could past the windows of the seafood restaurant, then stumbled into a sprint. Dolly raced her way through Hulbury, to the Gym, to a lighthouse, through a conversation with Nessa, into the Gym, through the Gym, and exited with a Water Badge. She’d let her Yamper be the flower girl at her wedding as thanks for destroying Nessa’s Pokémon. The Gym Leader barely had time to congratulate her before Dolly was rushing back off the pitch.

At first Dolly was frustrated by Nessa’s Gym soaking her to the bone, but at least now she was squeaky clean. Couldn’t go on a date with the chairman while looking like a greasy Grimer. Would he offer her another charming smile? A bouquet of aptly named roses? Guide her by the hand and pull her chair out for her? Offer her a selection of fine wines? She wasn’t old enough to drink yet though, maybe he’d buy her a chocolate milk instead. Maybe this place had those cool swirly straws, too.

She pushed open the double doors to the restaurant, flipping her hair back and puffing out her chest - girls did that, right? She glanced around for Rose, finding him in his inconspicuous bright blue shorts. There were two women standing beside him and Dolly’s stance deflated. So, it wasn’t just the two of them? Well, maybe it was a double date or something. Or they both worked for him, maybe? That tall one was Oleana, and that other one...was that Sonia? As she approached, Rose offered her another charming smile.

“You’ve arrived Dolly, welcome. Let’s celebrate your recent victory, shall we?”

Sonia looked at her and grinned, eyebrows raised.

“Oh, were you invited too? It’s good to see you again, congratulations on blowing through that Gym like it was nothing!”

They all took their seats, Sonia nattering on about her Gym performance, then her and Rose started talking about Dynamaxing or her gran or something. Dolly wished she would buzz off, couldn’t she feel the chemistry between her and Rose? Ugh. So much for their romantic date. This place didn’t have swirly straws, either.

Before she knew it, Oleana had pulled Rose away from her yet again, so it was just her and Sonia at the table. Dolly plopped her head on her fist with a huff as she watched Rose walk away.

“Congrats on beating Nessa,” Sonia grinned. “You blew right through it! She and I are good friends, and she can get pretty competitive. I’m sure she wasn’t happy about how fast you beat her.”

Dolly tore her eyes away as the door closed behind Rose and Oleana. That guiding light of the Wishing Stars was not doing a very good job of keeping her and Rose together.

“What? Oh, yeah, I guess so.”

“You really are a top-notch Trainer, Dolly. I can see why Leon endorsed you too,” Sonia said. “With how successful you’ve been so far, maybe parts of the Curse no longer affect you.”

Dolly slurped at the rest of her chocolate milk. This place probably didn’t do refills...

“I dunno, but I’m probably not going to stick around to find out,” Dolly sighed. “I actually might be off to Postwick after this, I’m not sure I want to keep going with the Gym Challenge.”

Sonia’s mouth hung open.

“What are you talking about? You’ve been doing great! You beat Milo and Nessa with ease, you can’t stop now!”

Dolly shrugged. She was having a lot of fun with her Pokémon. Was it a worthy risk, though? She was already one Gym beyond what she said she’d do in the first place.

She and Sonia pushed out of the restaurant and into Hulbury as the sun started to set. Dolly grumbled when she looked over the startling pinks and oranges that reflected over the water - that would have literally been the perfect atmosphere for the end of her and Rose’s date and instead she was here with Sonia talking about her Nuzlocke Curse.

Dolly waved goodbye to Sonia and started through the town again. Sonia said that perhaps parts of her Curse weren’t affecting her anymore, but Dolly wasn’t so sure. Everything corresponded to the last time she was with Pokémon: She could still talk to Pokémon, only catch one per route, and she had nicknamed them all - but she would have done that anyway. There was that final aspect of this Curse, but that wasn’t one she wanted to test.

She took a breath. Perhaps she could stop by that little market, get a souvenir for her mum, then really head home. As she trekked down the path she ran into Hop, who was jogging through Hulbury.

“Hey mate! I saw your match with Nessa, I’ve never seen you so determined!” he grinned, falling into step with her. “You’ve got both the Grass and the Water Badge by now, right?”

She nodded.

“Just like me. In that case, we’re both headed for Motostoke and the Fire Gym Leader, Kabu! I hear he’s actually holed up in Galar Mine No. 2, undergoing some special training. Let’s head there and see what all the fuss is about!”

Something about the way he was grinning at her like that made it hard to spit out she was actually heading home. She couldn’t stand the thought of being the one to make his smile deflate, so she only sighed and followed along behind him. She did have to get back to Motostoke first anyway, so may as well fake it until they got there, then head on home.

She watched as the sun sank below the horizon. Only a little bit longer, then she wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore - just sit comfortably in her house with her mum until...well. Until something else. She could figure out the rest of her life later.

Hop charged forward into the mine, stating he’d catch her back in Motostoke. She rolled her eyes - so much for finding Kabu together.

As Dolly stepped into the mine herself, she couldn’t help but smile. She had to admit, this mine was much more beautiful than the last. Blue, purple, and red stones glittered on the walls, cascading a purplish glow over everything, even the ponds in the mine. The dark purple sand sat like silk on the floor, glittering in the light of the gemstones. She meandered through, managed to catch a Noibat named Fay, and continued down the path - she was just so cute, one more couldn’t hurt, right? And she was a Dragon-type. They could fit eight Pokmeon in their living room if her mum moved some furniture around. A lot of the mine started to look the same, and Dolly could have sworn she had seen this pond before.

“Back at the beginning?” she huffed, shoulders slumping. She wondered if it would be faster just to go all the way around through Turffield again to get to Motostoke than maneuvering through this stupid mine. She heard footsteps behind her.

“You again.”

She turned and was face to face with a tall, white-haired trainer. She took a startled step backwards.

“I’d feel sorry for my Pokémon if I made them take part in a battle against low-level opponents. I’m not in the mood to deal with weaklings right now,”

Dolly looked around sarcastically.

“You’re not talking about me, right Bidet? Seeing as I absolutely annihilated you last time we saw each other?”

“It’s Bede, not- whatever.” Bede huffed and stepped so he was only a foot away from her, standing at his full height. “Then again, I suppose it’s a form of mercy to crush weak opponents early on. If you’re under the misguided impression that you’re stronger than me, then surely you would be up for a Pokémon battle.”

“What, do you have a fetish for losing against cute girls in mines?" she sneered, meeting his gaze. "Gross, but I can’t just stand there letting you spew lies like that.”

“Quite the mouth on this one. It’s utterly inconceivable that I, the Challenger chosen by the chairman, will lose!”

She was thrown into battle and immediately tossed out Posey. Although Sap may have been better for a type advantage, another burst of confidence for Posey would do her well.

Posey battled through almost all of Bede’s Pokémon, every once in a while looking back to Dolly for a nod of encouragement. Once Bede tossed out his final Pokémon, Dolly noticed Posey’s legs starting to shake again.

“Alright Posey, that’s enough, let’s send out someone else,” Dolly called, her brow furrowing. Although Posey was handling his Pokémon well, she didn’t want to push her too far for no reason. Sap could handle these Psychic-types well enough. Bede smirked, folding his arms.

“What, your pathetic Eevee can’t handle it, huh? She’s too scared? Too weak? Just like her Trainer?”

Posey quaked where she stood and let out a yelp.

“No!” she called. “Dolly’s not weak, and I’m not either! I’ve grown stronger because of her, and I’m not afraid anymore!”

Dolly’s eyebrows pulled together, standing there and watching her Eevee. She felt a surge of pride well within her for how much growth Posey had gone through in such a short amount of time.

“I’m tired of hiding, tired of running! If I don’t do the things that terrify me, I’ll never grow!” she said as she looked back to Dolly with a new determination in her eyes. “Because that’s what Dolly’s been doing, and I want to be brave, just like her.”

Dolly felt a knot of pride well in her throat. She nodded.

“Alright, Posey, fine. One last Pokémon, then we’ve beaten this idiot.”

After using a potion to get Posey up to full health, Bede tossed out his Ponyta.

“Posey, use Swift!”

Stars erupted from around Posey, filling the mine with light. They swirled around the room, then shot straight at the opposing Ponyta. A few ricocheted behind Bede, hitting the walls around them. Small shards of gemstones broke off, falling to the floor. The room sparkled in blues and greens and purples as they fell, like cold Wishing Stars falling to the earth.

“Ponyta, Confusion!”

Another flash of light erupted around the room. She could feel Posey getting weaker, but Posey was faster than this Ponyta. One good hit, and Bede would be finished in no time.

“Posey, use Swift one last time!”

The Ponyta moved first, and Dolly watched in horror as another flash of brilliant light erupted. Posey’s scream echoed throughout the mine.

Dolly felt her blood grow cold, her fingers numb.

Her fingers were numb. Her fingers, then her wrists. Her eyes went wide. She hadn’t felt this in a long time. She hadn’t felt her fingers like this since...

No.

The dust trickled through the arena, and the falling gemstones glittered as they clattered to the floor.

No.

They fell like a macabre sunset. The tingling turned to stabbing as it shot up her arms, her shoulders.

NO.

The sapphires fell like settling dusk.

Her mind shot back to that moment in the forest, with her first Pokémon gasping for breath.

“Dolly?” she had whispered, the light slowly draining from her eyes. “What’s happening to me?”

Her fingers went numb then, too. It felt the same. She was seven, she was seventeen. She was there in the forest, here in the mine.

“Dolly, why won’t you help me?” she had said.

The smoke settled, Posey’s silhouette in the dirt of the mine floor.

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” Dolly had cried, gripping her close to her chest. “I can’t,” she had cried. Her Pokémon smiled.

“I still love you,” she had said.

“Critical hit.” Bede smirked.

Posey’s fur still waved in the wind from the outside of the mine, the dirt and remnants of shattered gemstones from the walls still trickling down, grazing over the floor and the cave pond. The flower that always lay tucked behind her ear was crushed under the hoof of Ponyta.

She flashed back again to the forest. Raindrops had started to speckle. Her Pokémon’s small body had tensed, then gone limp, still with the trace of a soft smile.

“Faline?” she had whispered as her friend’s eyes closed.

“Posey?” she said now, voice barely audible.

No movement.

“Posey?” she asked, louder.

Her Eevee lay there, motionless.

“Posey, get up!” she called again, her hands and arms were trembling as the stabbing grew stronger. “Use Swift, Tackle, anything!”

Her voice echoed throughout the silent caves as the stings crawled into her chest like a thousand spiders, tearing at her heart. Only the echo of her own voice called back to her. Even Bede’s face twitched.

“What’s wrong with you, just use a revive!”

Dolly ran from her spot, disregarding every rule of battle etiquette. She collapsed to the ground, and tenderly reached out for Posey. She willed herself to touch her, to hold Posey in her arms.

She flashed to the forest, holding her first Pokémon. Her mind flashed to how she held her as the rain pricked her skin.

She flashed to the present, gripping Posey to her chest. The specks of dust and dirt pricked at her eyes, her skin.

Bede was whispering now too.

“Is she... dead?”

Dolly’s eyes widened at the reality of the word as she stared up at Bede.

She couldn’t even open her mouth to lie. She couldn’t open her mouth to lie that no, she was only fainted, or no, she was only sleeping. She couldn’t even open her mouth to lie that she didn’t feel the stabbing in her veins, the stabbing in her heart, even as much as she wanted to. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t even open her mouth to lie and say the Eevee that lay in her arms was alive.

Because she wasn’t.

He froze too, then shook his head.

“You’re a cruel Trainer,” Bede whispered, face laced with horror. “You’re disgusting. I was right, your last win was a fluke. I’m not battling something as pathetic as you.”

He returned Ponyta to its Poké Ball and turned, leaving Dolly there on the ground. The only sounds in the cave were his footsteps, and the small taps where her tears hit the ground.

The rest happened in a blur.

She ran to the Pokémon Center only to have the nurse confirm what she already knew. She would have done anything not to have everyone in the building staring at her with shock, confusion, pity. All of them were silent and staring as she stood there frozen, hearing the words she knew, but dreaded all the same.

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.”

With a ghostly nod, eyes hollow, Dolly left and returned to Route 4. She completed her errand and walked away, leaving Posey and the haphazard tombstone beneath the tree by the river. ———————————————————————————————————–Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Full Chapter Index

[ofwolvesandbutterflies]

nothing good is forever

Pairing: NCT’s Taeyong x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags: idol verse!au

Warnings: strong language, mentions of mature themes

A/N: partially based off the song (x). I start crying every. single. freaking. time. so yeah, bringing back my old angsty style of writing. 

Happy New Years, my dears! I love you all so much! I hope you all stay warm, eat good foods and spend this season with loved ones. 

“Hey, Taeyong.” another brightly smiling face shot the attractive yet permanently scowling male a kind greeting. Sucking in another unnecessary breath, Taeyong bit back a nasty retort before turning and nodding his head in a type of laid back acknowledgement.

“Hansol, how… lovely to see you. I thought you took the week off.”

“Ahh, you heard,” the older male laughed jovially, smile lines creasing happily around his eyes and broad smile. Stepping further into the unusually untidy studio space, Hansol clapped Taeyong on the shoulder. “I am taking the week off, I just thought I’d drop by work to drop off some Christmas gifts from the family.”

“Christmas gifts.” The scowl of Taeyong’s lips tightened as a rush of sour memories began to flood his mind. “...Right.” Shaking off Hansol’s hand, the younger male placed the headphones over his ears once more. With any organic sound immediately replaced with the familiar melody Taeyong had been working on for the past couple weeks, the older male was left with no other choice than to place the tin of home-baked cookies on the couch by the door and leave soundlessly.

Despite his cold front when it came to all things merry and bright, Taeyong didn’t hate Christmas, no. Not at all.

He didn’t hate the lights, the decorations, the smell of peppermint and pine trees everywhere, or the annoying repeats of “Rudolf, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” that played at least once every hour… He didn’t hate Christmas at all. However, though he didn’t hate it, he didn’t quite like it either.

Why? It was quite simple really. The lights, the decorations, the smell of peppermint and pine trees everywhere and the annoying repeats of “Rudolf, the Red-Nosed Reindeer” all just reminded him of you.

You were a memory. You were a constant memory. You were a cherished memory. You were a painful memory. And you were a memory he would never be able to love… and that’s what he hated.

Ten years ago, you had been but a mere background dancer for SM. You had starred in many of SM’s performances and a couple of NCT’s stages, as if 18 members wasn’t enough. However, it wasn’t until you had secured a completely different job that you and Taeyong actually met.

“Hello,” you started off cheerfully, wide smile placed across your lips, pen posed millimeters above the fad wad of paper in your hand. “My name is  __, I’ll be your waitress this evening.”

The weight of a million eyes landed on you all of a sudden. Glancing up at the table of… many, many young men, an inaudible gasp shot from your lips. Dark, stylish clothing, face masks, piercings, brightly colored hair… These men were… these men were from your other job. And not only were they from your other job, they were idols from your other job. Holy mother of shi-.

You shook the shock from your features. They weren’t here for a show or to be idols, they were most likely here to relax, just be another human and with the reaction you’d just displayed, chances were, they weren’t feeling that relaxed anymore.

“Ahh, sorry,” you rushed to say. A particular pair of dark eyes narrowed at you cautiously, gaze weighing your’s down heavily and it took all of you not to look up to see who it was. Doing your best to ignore it, you continued on. “My mind just slipped. Can I get you started with any drinks?”

A collective murmuring of ‘water’ and ‘apple juice’ sprung up and your eyes widened. Out of nowhere, someone mumbled ‘actually, can I have a milk’. And you sighed.

Damn.. There were ten of the eighteen members of NCT sitting right in front of you and they were all hungry. Throwing a hand over your hip, you tossed them all a weighted smille. This would be a long night.

As you collected orders, waited and cleared tables, offered smile after smile after smile, seconds quickly turned into hours gone by. Soon enough, the only full table left in your section was the one NCT occupied. Leaning against the bar, you smiled, slowly counting off the heads of the remaining customers at the table.  

One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six… Seven… Eight… And nine. Wait. Shaking your head, you recounted again. Nine. You hadn’t notice one leave. No. You had gotten ten orders of food from then… All ten of those chairs had been filled. Utterly flabbergasted, you began to name off the names of the members from the subgroup of NCT 127. There was Johnny, Doyoung, Haechan, Jungwoo, and Taeil sitting over of the side facing you. The one who just scooted away Yuta must have been Win Win, and that was Mark sitting next to him. Squinting your eyes a little bit more at the hooded figure sitting near Mark, a clear laugh rang out, and a tinge of pink colored your cheeks. Jung Jaehyun.

Though you admired all eighteen of the members of NCT, Jung Jaehyun was your unspoken bias. With that deep, honey-smooth voice, a trim body and the breathtakingly good looks to knock anyone out, there was just something about him that dragged an unwarranted sense of awe over you every time you saw him.

So then… who was missing? You narrowed your eyes, re-listing the names in your head. Johnny… Jungwoo… Win Win… Snapping suddenly, the missing member’s name cleared in your mind.

Lee Taey-

“Excuse me, Miss __.”

Barely able to stifle the shriek from spilling out of your mouth, you spun on your heel to find yourself face to face with the missing member from NCT 127.

In all of your life, you had never visualized yourself ever being this close to the man you found to be as close to perfect as the human population could ever get. Even in a pair of worn out sweats, he was just as attractive, if not more so, than you had seen in photos and in music videos. Realizing you had yet to respond to him, you blinked yourself out of your stupor. Taeyong’s dangerously deep eyes swam recognition when you stuttered out a weak, “yes?”

“I recognized you from the company,” he began to say, soft voice somehow blocking out the pumping of the music throughout the room. “- and I just wanted to thank you for not making a big scene out of us being here. It means a lot.”

“Oh. Uh…” You stuttered, mind suddenly devoid of any intelligent phrases. “I mean, of course. You’re welcome. It’s my responsibility as a civil individual to mind my own business and not make anyone’s life harder than it already might be.” The uneasy, nervous smile sitting on his lips made you double take. Was this the same man who onstage rapped fiercely about suggestive things?

“Still though,” Taeyong protested, gaze not meeting your eyes, an elegant hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I know we can be a handful and I also wanted to thank you and simultaneously apologize for how loud we might have been.”

A warm feeling bloomed in your chest at his heartfelt words.

“Oh-okay.. You’re welcome and it’s fine. It was nice seeing you guys be able to enjoy yourselves outside of idol work.”

He shot you one last, beautiful, genuine smile and went to sit down with the rest of his members, his laugh and clear voice standing out far above the rest. Jung Jaehyun might have been your unspoken bias, but Lee Taeyong… That talented man would always stand far out against the rest of them.

Taeyong was a romantic, but falling in love at first sight was something he had trouble finding credibility in. Love took time. Love was not something one should rush into. He was almost certain that those who claimed that they had fallen in love at first sight were exaggerating. After all, admiration would turn into affectionate feelings and affectionate feelings would turn into love gradually.  

At least… that was what he continued to tell himself every time he found heartbeat quickening when his mind wandered to your honest words and your clear smile that first night. Soon enough, the thoughts of you began to appear more consistently and Taeyong began to fantasize about the somewhat slim possibility of seeing you again.

The second time he saw you was just as unexpected as the first. He had been out on a late night jog back to the company to grab a practice bag containing an important flash drive then to the nearest convenience store to pick up some noodles when he encountered you in all of your dancing beauty.

As soon as the lights went out, Taeyong strolled out of the room, just about to pull out his phone to let Doyoung know he was on his way home when the distinct sound of music wafted through the air. Thoroughly intrigued, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and followed the tune of what sounded like “Black on Black”. He snickered to himself, a smirk quirking his lips up, expecting to open the other practice room and find another one of his members.

However, a soon as he neared the windowed door of the other room, Taeyong stopped in his tracks, lips parted in shock, smirk long forgotten.

The last thirty seconds to “Black on Black” reached his ears just as his eyes took in the familiar, lithe figure of the person who had been the cause of his less than focused thoughts. With your hair hidden beneath the beanie and legs wrapped elegantly in a pair of tights, you looked absolutely gorgeous. Taeyong couldn’t help the protective surge that rushed through him when you tripped. But, before he could do anything, you picked yourself back up, wiping the sweat from your brow before rewinding the music and running back through it again.

And he stood there, awestruck, for the remainder of the song.

All concept of time left him as Taeyong stood there, jaw hanging agape as you flowed through the dance moves like they were imprinted in your DNA. The look of concentration in your intense eyes glowed with a renewed passion and rivaled even the glittering city skyline. Never had he been so spellbound.

Finally, the song began to come to a close as the telltale notes rang out through the room. Then and only then was Taeyong able to sober up enough to realize that the reason the quick pace at which his heart was beating… was from you.

Now ten years later, Taeyong was still single. The possibility of him hearing from you had ended years ago, ten years to be exact.

With his eyes bouncing from thing to thing in the quiet of the brightly lit store, Taeyong’s lips remained in the same tight line. Once again, Christmas had rounded the corner without his knowledge and once again his mind found itself wandering to you. A subconscious sigh passed his lips.

He wondered what you were doing now… if you had gotten married, if you had any children.

On the topic of children, Taeyong’s attention was suddenly torn violently out of his thoughts by the sound of small feet shuffling feet against the floor. Looking up, he spotted the smaller kid in line before him, pacing back and forth, clothes thrown in in a disarray, a pair of pretty heeled shoes clutched desperately in his grubby hands.

As always, the appearance of the most random of things ricocheted him back into the deepest parts of his mind. The shoes… you… you loved to dance.

Even with baggy sweats, messy hair and tired eyes, when the music was on your body moved smoothly to the music like it was nothing.

The third time he saw you was at a rehearsal.

As an idol, Taeyong’s life was full of comebacks, stages, performances and this small-scale performance shouldn’t have been any different. Except… it was.

One second, he was rapping the bridge from ‘Boss’. The next, you were there, nearly hidden within the mass amount of other dancers. Although you were dressed in the same ripped jeans and light shirt as everyone else, it seemed different, more attractive, better looking on you. The flip of your hair, the twist of your body… everything seemed to be accentuated and elegant when you did it. And after seeing you dance that time before, Taeyong was sure he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything but.

By some stroke of unbelievable luck, he was able to finish the rehearsal without any major slip-ups and almost immediately, he turned to look for you in the crowd of dancers. Black pants, light shirt… Hair pulled back… eyes glittering more brilliantly than any VVS diamond…

It didn’t take him long to find you, smiling, laughing among your fellow dancers. Glancing down at the watch on his wrist, he started off in your direction, only to be stopped by the sudden paranoia of someone watching. However, this time, the paranoia wasn’t of someone watching him. Rather, it was of someone watching you.

You were truly ravishing, easy on the eyes in every scenario. It would have been hard for anyone to keep from looking at you, Taeyong knew that was a given… But this time didn’t feel quite right. Turning again to examine the rest of the stage inhabitants, his lips hardened into a frown when he found the culprit.

Every couple seconds, Jung Jaehyun would casually cast a glance in your direction, eyes hungrily devouring your every move.

The fourth time… you were swaying dangerously in the darkened space of the club after having finished the last tour of the season, hair falling down your back in wondrous tresses, eyes hooded as you signaled for Taeyong to join you.

Sweaty bodies, the strange, mixed aroma of perfume and cologne, the sensation of alcohol hanging heavily in the air… The darkened environment of the crowded room made the bass boosted music seem infinitely louder than it actually was. Another club.

But what could you do, mused Taeyong while twirling a glass he suspected was not actually his. He really had no other choice when it came to what the rest of his legal members wanted to do. They wanted to go clubbing. His eyes swung lazily over the room, doing a headcount for the fifth time that hour.

Johnny… Yuta… Taeil… Doyoung… __… Wait. __?

Straightening in his seat immediately, Taeyong traced every corner of the room in an attempt to find you. He had seen you. That was for sure. He scoured the crowd at least three times before his darkening eye fell over you once again. Immediately, the foreign feeling of butterflies in his stomach picked up again. A blush began to dust itself over his otherwise pale cheeks.

At once, all the oxygen escaped his lungs. He had seen you dance before, but seeing you in at atmosphere like this had all coherent thoughts and phrases dissipating from Taeyong’s brain like lifting mist until the only thing on his mind was how alluring you looked.

Suddenly, as if you had felt the weight of his gaze splaying across your scantily covered body from across the room, you turned. Whether it was your dancing or your bold wink, Taeyong found himself drunk on something other than alcohol… You.

A smirk wound its way onto your lips while you ran a hand suggestively through your hair, eyes still on his. He closed his lips, moistening them nervously with the tip of his tongue. What were you doing to him? As if all that you had done already wasn’t torture enough, you lifted your hand, signaling for him to join you on the dance floor.

Swallowing nervously, trying in vain to calm the excessive beating of his heart, Taeyong found himself traveling across the floor towards you as if in a trance. And as the two of you danced, with you pressed up against him, he also found that he, in fact, had fallen for you long before this and that love at first sight might just be possible.

“Listen kid,” the cashier’s gruff voice split through Taeyong’s unpleasant reverie and said male’s attention was brought back down to the younger kid standing in front of him. “I’m really sorry. I know you wanna buy these nice dance shoes for your mum, but… the price tag is asking for thirty at the very least. Twelve dollars and thirty-nine cents ain’t gonna work.”

Taeyong’s curiosity piqued and he craned his neck to take a good look at the boy. He couldn’t have been more than nine years old, seven at the least, but Taeyong’s dark eyes widened as he took in the strangely familiar features. The younger kid’s eyes were intense and doe shaped, just like Taeyong’s. His eyebrows were dense and bold, drawn upward in desperation just like Taeyong’s. His lips were pulled into a pout that triggered a memory of your pouting lips.

“But sir!” the boy’s high voice begged. “You don’t understand, I need these shoes.”

The cashier’s mouth parted to refute his request, but the boy continued.

“Sir, I wanna buy these shoes for my mom! Please!” His voice cracked, damn near the verge of tears. “It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes… They’re just her size.”

The fifth time he saw you, you were blinking blearily up at him from underneath the thin duvet on his bed, hair mussed from the night before, smile tossed crazily in his direction… until you realized you weren't in your home and that you didn't have a hot boyfriend named Lee Taeyong. Taeyong could still recall the knotted string of apologies falling from your lips in the early morning when you jumped from the bed - still in his shirt - grabbed your underwear, and bolted out of the room.

The sixth time he saw you was when you were dancing late in the same practice room you could always be found in late at night. Sweat was dripping from your face and your breathing was ragged from the long period you had been dancing…

Dancing was your punching bag, your stress reliever. Everything about it helped keep your mind off small mistakes you had made in your everyday life… Like the fact you had just slept with an idol you had admired for a long time and had probably just ruined every chance of having a professional work relationship with him.

Lee Taeyong was handsome, skilled, well rounded and polite… however every time you saw him now, after that night, you were needlessly reminded of how badly you had messed up. What had you been thinking that night? You hadn’t even had that much to drink that night and yet you found your head spinning pleasantly upon meeting his hungry gaze.

The feeling of his up against you, his deft fingers creeping down to rest around your waist, the fleeting caress of his lips against your heated skin, the dark heat that had pooled in your stomach when he growled against your lips… You shook your head vigorously to rid your mind of his low groans. Jaehyun had been your bias all this time and you were convinced he still was... Yet with all of your encounters with Taeyong and the way you found your heart racing every time your thoughts found their way to him, you weren’t a hundred percent sure of anything anymore.

And that was the reason you were now avoiding him at all costs…

And also the reason you choked on your air and fell upon seeing him leaned so casually against the entrance of the practice room. Within seconds of you landing on the floor, he was right there, worry furrowing his brows.

“__, are you okay?”

Up at this close of a proximity, you could see every detail of his attractive features in high definition. The curve of his lips, the concern in his eyes, the faint flush on his cheeks… without fail, your heart pounded loudly in your chest and you were unnecessarily reminded vividly of how soft his lips had felt against yours.

“Y-yeah. I'm fine.” The words came out of your lips unsteadily, immediately alerting him to your uneasiness. “T-thanks. I’ll just- I...I’ll just go now-”

Pushing yourself up and away from him, you made as if to rush out of the room, cheeks flushed an angry red.

“No.” Taeyong’s voice sounded, loud and demanding, contrary to the gentle, soft approach he used more often. A firm hand wrapped itself around your wrist and you looked up in surprise.

“... No?”

“I mean,” he looked away bashfully, voice softening. All at once, the butterflies in your stomach started up again. If Jaehyun was your ‘bias’, why were you even feeling this way around Taeyong?

“Please stay,” Taeyong continued. “I know I fucked up. I didn’t even get to take you on a date before all that happened and I’m so sorry about that, but I…” He paused to cough nervously into his hand. “Um.. Well, I'm not good with expressing myself but I really.. I really like you and I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I thought you should know.”

The seventh time he saw you was similar to the fifth, only it was early evening, the moon glanced off your skin in the most captivating of ways, and this time.. You weren't running away.

“I dunno kid…” Letting out a deep sigh, the cashier rubbed his temples wearily. “You’re still fifteen dollars short. Why do you need them this badly anyways?”

Without a hint of hesitance, the little boy blurted out the most honest thing Taeyong had heard in awhile.

“Look, I know I’m dirty, I know I don’t have the exact amount, I know you probably don’t want to put up with this right now… but please… my mom.” A sniffle sounded loudly in the silent store and he shook the tears from his eyes. “She’s been sick for quite a while, and I know these shoes will make her smile… I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight.”

Taeyong’s mouth dropped open. This boy was putting his dignity and wealth on the line for his mother. Finally, out of his pocket, the kid fished out a couple more bills.

“Is this… Is this enough?”

Helplessly, the cashier shot Taeyong a look and the little boy turned to look directly at him. All at once, Taeyong’s heart broke all over again. The kid’s eyes were swollen and red from crying and dried and fresh tears streamed down his cheeks.

“Mama… she made Christmas special at our house even though most of the time, she just went without.”

It was like looking at you all over again. It reminded Taeyong of that last night with you, staring at you at your worst… broken, hurt, angry, confused with tears pouring down your cheeks are he gazed at you through his. Sniffling, the little boy continued.

“Tell me sir, what am I going to do?! My mom… she’s so sick and my dad. He’s given up, he told me she’s not going to live through the night and-and I’ve seen her look at these shoes every time we come to this store, I wanna.. She-” at that, his fragile voice cracked with emotion. His shoulders hunched over as he fought back the sobs, desperate to stay strong.

Taeyong gazed on at the younger boy, the one that hopelessly reminded him of you. He was torn. That little boy… he wasn’t you. You were probably off somewhere else, enjoying a dinner with Jaehyun and your kids. However, the shaken words that fell from the boy’s lips found a way directly to Taeyong’s broken heart.

“Please sir…” The boy’s voice sounded infinitely smaller than it had before. “Somehow, I’ve got to buy her these Christmas shoes..”

The eighth time however, was not as happy.

It should have been though.

It was the annual SM Christmas Party and Taeyong moved easily through the crowds, blessing everyone with a perfectly content smile. That was until Taeyong saw you and Jaehyun, laughing… smiling… which, in any other case would be fine. But in this one, with the way Jung Jaehyun was looking at you, undressing you with his eyes, with the way his fingers brushed against your arm ever so slightly...

Bracing himself against a nearby wall, Taeyong took a deep breath. He was just… overthinking. Inclining his head towards the ceiling, he took a deep breath and tried in vain to focus on something other than the fact you were with Jaehyun, grinning cheesily at every little thing he said while standing under the mistletoe-

Wait. Fuck. Mistletoe?

“What the fuck, Taeyong?” You spoke, struggling against the vise-like grip said male had around your wrist. “What crawled up your ass and died?”

“Nothing.” He bit out, venom dripping from each syllable as the two of you wove in and out of the crowd. Though you hadn’t known him for that long, you didn’t think you had ever seen someone so mad. Flames burned behind Taeyong’s usually calm, clear eyes and you recalled the dumbfounded look on Jaehyun’s face a couple seconds prior.

“For some reason, I don’t believe you, Lee Taeyong,” you tsk-ed, letting him guide you to a less active area. “And part of me thinks it has to do with you being jealous.”

All of a sudden, the tense male in front of you froze. He had seen that subtle hand on your arm, the way Jaehyun was looking at you… You snickered to yourself over the fact this grown man was jealous over you and you watched, curious, as he turned around… only to push you up against the wall behind you. Eyes wide, you shivered as he traced a light finger down your jaw.

“Jealous? Jealous? Of fucking course I’m jealous.” The growl in his low voice made it only the more sexier. “Jung Jaehyun, one of the most attractive male idols at this company holiday party was flirting with you under the mistletoe. Of course I’d get jealous.”

“Okay, you big baby,” you snorted, rolling your eyes at his unreasonable childish behavior. “I get it, someone’s needy and wants my attention, but like we should really establish some norms. Like just because I’m talking -talking, mind you- to another guy, does not mean I’m interested in them-”

“It’s not that, __,” Taeyong interrupted you, grabbing your chin roughly and directing your attention right at him. “You’re mine. And no other guy is allowed to look at you lik-”

“Hold on just a fucking second, Lee Taeyong,” you hissed, surprised by his exclamation and fed up with his unnecessary possessiveness. His eyes widened at your outburst, obviously taken aback. “Who do you think you are? Manhandling me, ordering me around and threatening to fuck up every single guy that does something as simple as look at me. Hell, Jaehyun and I were just talking and now you’re going around, acting like you own me. We were just. Talking.

“As far as I was know, even if we were a thing, you are not going to treat me like a belonging or act all possessive like a dumb kindergartner would be over a stupid toy. I am not a thing of yours that you can claim as your own. Good night.”

Throwing off his hand, you pushed past him, ignoring the hurt look of complete shock written all over his face.

“__, wait-” Taeyong started reaching out to grab your wrist for the second time that night.

“No, Taeyong. Don’t talk to me,” you mumbled underneath your voice, disappointment laced in every word. “I refuse to be in a relationship with a man that won’t trust me.”

And with that, you stalked away, dismayed at how much your heart hurt.

The ninth time he saw you, you weren’t alone like he was hoping.

As a romantic, Taeyong realized what he had done wrong. You weren’t his. You were merely someone he loved enough to be afraid to lose. And as someone he cared that deeply about, he had the whole night planned out. That was, of course, if you accepted his apology.

Smiling giddily to himself, he fiddled with the bouquet and handwritten apology for a second longer before taking a deep breath in. Opening, the door, he began to walk towards the practice room he knew you would be in. He had just finished up in his studio, brain filled to the brim with lyrics and the rhythm of a heartfelt song yet to be released.

But when he turned down the familiar hall to the practice room he was certain you’d be in, an unexpected sound reached his ears. A deep voice that sounded an awful lot like… Jaehyun’s rang out in a deep baritone laugh in response to your clear, breathy one.

“Shh… Oh my gawd, Jaehyun you idiot! You’re so loud.”

“Look who’s talkin’, __. You’re the one yelling at me.”

All at once, Taeyong froze. No… Not now. Not on Christmas. As if his body had a mind of its own, he subconsciously crept closer to the door, deathly afraid of what he would see. Your breathy giggle sounded again.

Blinking back tears, he peered through the crack in the door.

Fuck. There you were, beautiful as ever, smiling that same radiant smile… pressed up against Jaehyun’s firm body as his arms lay loose around your waist. A pathetic sob built in the back of Taeyong’s throat when you reached up to press a gentle kiss to Jaehyun’s love drunk smile.

Crushed, Taeyong stumbled back soundlessly until his back smacked against a wall. Then, the tears began to fall, blinding him. 

Merry Christmas, indeed.

  A broken Taeyong left the building in a daze that night. In his hands were a bouquet of torn flowers, a shredded apology and a crushed heart.

No longer could he be around Jaehyun without thinking of the two of you. It was ridiculous, and he knew it… He had trained with this dude for years. But soon enough, Taeyong found himself signing a contract with a different agency in an effort to get awake from the inevitable heartbreak he had been through.

And at once, gone were the physical apparitions of you and Jaehyun, loving, smiling, laughing. Only then entered the haunting of his dreams by you and you only.

“Please sir…” The boy’s voice sounded infinitely smaller than it had before. “Somehow, I’ve got to buy her these Christmas shoes..”

All at once, an exhausted exhale fell from Taeyong’s mouth. What would you have done in this situation? Grabbing a twenty from his wallet, Taeyong pressed it down onto the pile of scattered coins and crumpled bills.

The kid’s teary eyes widened as the cashier rang the shoes up. A smile grew on Taeyong’s lips when a thankful smile traced itself onto the boy’s face.

“T-thank you so much, sir!” Grabbing the shoes, the younger male wrapped his lanky arms around Taeyong’s waist. Then, as an afterthought, the boy added, “Momma’s going to look so great.”

Just like that, the kid was gone. All that was left was the ghostly feeling of his thin arms around Taeyong’s waist and the mental image etched into his brain of how much he looked like you.

“Hey man,” once again, the cashier’s gruff voice blew away any thought of you. Shaking the fog from his brain, Taeyong redirected his attention to the man in front of him.

“You gonna buy anything else?”

  The tenth and last time he saw you, Taeyong thought, was the most painful. It had been eleven years since he had last seen any trace of you or anything somehow related to you.

Or.. so he thought.

Taeyong felt his shattered heart fly out the window. Suddenly, he understood what had pulled him into that graveyard. Memories of you, you laughing, you dancing, you beneath him, you smiling, you crying… All of them shot back at him, hitting him in the dead center of his heart. The weathered gravestone in front of him was an elegant marble and did not fail to remind Taeyong of every single thing about you, but that wasn’t the object that tore the previously unshed tears from his eyes.

He crumpled to his knees, sobbing.

Beneath your name and birth and passing date lay a pair of shoes. A familiar pair of shoes. The same brilliantly simple shoes the boy in the store had bought - with Taeyong’s help - for his terminally ill mother.