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soukokuwu · 4 years

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what if chu's s/o escapes port mafia, leaving chuuya to think she left him like dazai did (but in reality, she was pregnant & didn't want the child to grow up in PM. though she has taken extra measures so her son will not be endangered, PM still managed to kidnap him and hold him hostage in exchange for her to come back to their ranks. it is when she comes to save their son that chu discovers that the child is his. you do your own take if you want, your writing, your choice! 💓💓

HIGH RISK, HIGH REWARDS. genre. hmmm,, i guess it’s fluffy synopsis. you reveal a secret you’ve kept to yourself for so long, it’s time you finally come clean. word count. 2,680 author notes. hi, thank you this was an interesting request, i tried not to make it too long. & i usually don’t put so much dialogue (if at all XD) so i hope you can still enjoy this <33

PRESENT.

“Boss, the VIPs are here to see you, they’re being held down at the lobby. Do you want to send them up here?”

The chair swirls around, revealing the man behind the table, a picture of perfect composure. A curt nod is all it takes for the goon to leave the room, ready to escort the guests up.

Once the doors are closed again, he puts the cigarette out on his ashtray, exhaling that last puff of smoke. Gloved fingers intertwine together as he ponders long and hard about how he should greet them later.

The man eyes the drawer under his table, the bottom leftmost one — the special drawer. He opens it languidly to unveil a stash of letters, too many to count at one glance. That’s not surprising though. After all, it’s twelve years’ worth of letters. He grabs the top one, beady eyes glossing over its contents. He folds it back along the same lines.

They all look the same. Made out to him, but with no return address.

TWELVE YEARS AGO.

“They found someone at the house. We have him right now.”

The man on the other line seems to still have something to say, but the redhead doesn’t allow him. It’s a matter that can’t wait.

“Keep him there, make sure he doesn’t leave.”

Chuuya leaves the rest of the torturing to his colleagues as he exits the premises. He recalls what his subordinate reported earlier. ‘Him’? He scoffs. It’s been six years since you left the mafia and basically vanished into thin air. Which is a considerably long time, but Chuuya still can’t wrap the possibility around there being a new guy in your life.

Besides, the redhead didn’t do anything wrong. Why did you have to leave without a word? Why did you feel the need to leave at all, even? It couldn’t be stress. No way. You worked at the Port Mafia casino, yes. You were in charge of it all, and it did anything but stress you out. You loved working there. You loved the gamble. You absolutely revelled in the risk.

They put you in charge of the casino for more reasons than one. You were very calculative, very meticulous. You always had your moves planned out beforehand and you were always able to tell your opponents’ hand without even having to cheat. The gambling was definitely one of the reasons why you were so good at manipulating people. It was also one of the reasons why even Mori asked for your help in some cases.

But your best quality as a mafioso?

Your unpredictability. Or, as Mori dubbed it, your insanity. In both gambling and in general. You had helped the mafia win favours over more than just a few officials by winning against them — be it in poker or any other games. You weren’t even below playing russian roulette. Sure, Chuuya had been worried at first, but after a while it was pretty clear you’d always make it out of it safe — was it luck or was it pure calculation, or a mixture of both perhaps? Chuuya doesn’t really question it. And when it came to planning missions, your unconventional methods always helped, because no one would ever see it coming.

That blew up in his face though. You left him without any clues pertaining to your whereabouts or why you left in the first place. He thought you left along with his ex-partner, that maybe it had something to do with him. But it was apparent that wasn’t the case. Not when you didn’t surface at all even when Dazai did. He couldn’t help but keep thinking of potential things that happened to you. Did you leave because you met someone else? Doubtful. But given how long it’s been, it’s certainly not out of the question that you already did meet someone else by now.

You’re beautiful, smart, fun. You’re everything anyone could wish for. You’re so understanding that sometimes Chuuya questions where you get your patience from. You were just perfect, in every sense of the word.

Chuuya groans just thinking of everything. Even after being kicked to the curb, why is it that now he is still attracted to you? Lucky he was, though. Because that’s the only reason he agreed with Mori’s plan to put all efforts into seeking you out. You were incredibly elusive, and a pain in the ass because of that. And had it not been for a certain intense war against an enemy organisation, they would’ve let you go on with your life, wherever you ended up. You’ve been very quiet, not spreading anything about the mafia, or else Mori would’ve picked up on it. Very well-behaved, and a pardon would’ve been your reward.

But even the best needs help sometimes. And Mori specifically wants yours. He probably figured Chuuya was the biggest factor that would tilt things in their favour, and he agrees. Which is why he heads this mission in the first place. Not only is he the biggest shot at getting you back, but he wants to see you. Wants to know exactly why you left him the way you did.

Closure. He wants closure.

Life is funny though. Because he ends up with more questions than answers when he opens the door to his office.

Suddenly all the idle chatter he passes by in the hallway makes sense. The ones that just skip past his ears because he’s too deep in thought about you. He remembers the gist of them though. Things like “he’s so cute, like a model,” and “right? I think he looks handsome” (to which Chuuya was slightly annoyed by because he thought it was referring to your new beau).

But no, he wasn’t greeted with a man. He opened his doors to find a boy with eyes as blue as the ocean sitting on his desk, fiddling with his pens. Eyes that remind him of the exact shade he looks at in the mirror everyday. Chuuya hurriedly shuts the door, locks it, and steps hesitantly toward the boy.

This boy… looks roughly about six years old. And Chuuya feels his breath hitching in his throat. That’s around the time you went missing. He feels everything closing in around him, the fear of why you left him finally being made clear to him.

Weirdly enough, the boy isn’t the tiniest bit scared. His head is tilted, fingers still fiddling with Chuuya’s fountain pen, and waiting for Chuuya to reach him. He blinks his little eyes, before finally smiling up at him after a while. He opens his mouth, a simple word leaving his delicate lips.

“Daddy!”

Chuuya isn’t even allowed a further minute to process it before he hears knocking on the ceiling and someone falls through the vent onto the floor; one with an all-too-familiar figure. And who flashes an all-too-familiar grin.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Half an hour later Chuuya finds himself struggling to process all the information you’ve unloaded on him. He observes as his son draws on a random piece of paper he’s found lying around, in the other side of the room.

“You let them think they’ve captured our son, when in reality you were waiting for them to?”

You nod. Chuuya internally facepalms himself. How is it that you’re able to gamble with this, too? With your — and his — son’s life on the line? You basically left him there to be abducted, knowing that they won’t do anything without Chuuya’s permission (who’s to say he wouldn’t have allowed them to torture the kid? Well, he wouldn’t, but still…) and then sneak yourself past security and into his office, all in the hopes of letting him know he has a son?

Then again, you wouldn’t bet something like that if you didn’t believe that things would absolutely go your way. He’s been with you for so long before, he’s familiar with your moves and the way you think. Not completely, but good enough.

It was so brilliantly simple. (Also, you used to sneak into his office through the vents when your relationship was still under wraps, so it really wasn’t a surprise to him that you chose to sneak in through there now.)

“Why now, after all this time? Why tell me now?”

For a moment he catches a brief look of guilt wash over your face. You lie back on the couch on your spot next to him, and close your eyes, as though bracing for an outburst as his response.

“I didn’t want to tell you at all, at first…” you trail off, the guilt completely taking over you now. “I only came now because… I want you to get Mori off my back.”

Now Chuuya understands why.

So, you didn’t even intend to give him a chance to meet his son, let alone let him be involved in any part of your life. But you only appeared because you knew Mori would come after you, demand for your help. The only reason you showed yourself today… was to convince Chuuya to help you. Because if there’s anyone who could convince Mori to back off, Chuuya could. And you understood that all too well.

Chuuya can just laugh at himself right now. How foolish is he, to think that you came back because you still harboured feelings for him. How pathetic of him.

He can sense his expression growing grim. Not that he’ll make any attempts to conceal it. His cerulean eyes travel from his son to you. You seem a little less guilty now, though. You look… at peace, somehow.

“What makes you think I’ll do what you want?”

“Because you want to prove me wrong.”

Your answer catches him off guard, and his anger is replaced by utter confusion. You take his silence as your cue to explain.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t think you’d make a good father and do what’s right for our son. Prove me wrong. Keep our son away from this. Do what a good father would and give him a chance to grow up normal.”

Chuuya scoffs. So that’s why you didn’t tell him anything. Never told him you were pregnant. Never hinted at a goodbye. You’d rather be branded a traitor like Dazai instead of having to make Chuuya choose between you and the mafia. He knows; if you set your mind on something, it’s hard to change it. And in other situations it might’ve been negotiable, but not with your baby.

You know Chuuya would never betray the mafia. That’s why you think he’d never make a good father. Because he can’t put you or the baby first. And now… Now you come with good faith. You’re trying to believe that he can learn to be a good father.

Starting with this choice.

This impossible choice.

Except not really. He knows what he’ll end up choosing anyway. You were right. If he knew you were pregnant he’d have convinced you to stay with the mafia, convinced you that he’d make sure the baby is well-protected. But then he’d be missing the point of your whole argument. You grew up in the mafia, and technically, so did he. You knew how it didn’t allow a chance at normalcy, and you didn’t want to strip your baby of that choice. You wanted your child to at least have a taste of what being normal is like, before you ultimately let them choose what they want.

Now, even if he gives an unfavourable reply, he knows you’d do anything to keep his son away from the mafia. It’s only a question of whether or not you’d have to struggle against Chuuya for it.

Silently, he stretches a hand out to you as he gets up from the couch. He can see the subtle surprise on your face. You’re impressed, aren’t you? He has on the best poker face since you’ve met him. You can’t guess what he’s thinking, this being the first of such instance since you’ve met him. He doesn’t say a thing when you ask him what he’s up to, only continuing to offer his hand to you, keeping mum.

A gamble, a risk you’d have to take. You can either take his hand and see where he leads you, which could lead to you getting your way or it could just lead to total destruction. Or, you can refuse, and then you’d have to figure a way out on your own. Which Chuuya doesn’t doubt you’d already have ingrained in your head.

But he knows you’ll choose the former. Why? It’s the only one where an inherent risk is present. Because you’d be totally in his mercy.

And that’s why you find yourself flown out of the headquarters, onto some random building’s rooftop. A perfect view of the setting sun and an even more perfect view of your old lover, striking crimson locks imitating the beauty of the orange sunset.

Looks like it paid off.

“Will you let me know where you’re staying? A child needs his father,” Chuuya asks you, your fingers intertwined in his, and you forgot just how much you missed this; him.

“And the mafia needs you.”

A swift rejection, but he’s not going to give up so easily.

“I have a right to know. He’s my son too.”

You inch closer to him and he feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest. It’s been six years since he’s been this close to you, and he can’t believe he has to let you go again. With your son in tow, too. Without so much as a clue as to where you’re going to move to. No way to find out. Given that they only managed to find you in the first place because you wanted to be found.

“Maybe if you’re the boss or something.”

PRESENT.

Now here he is, sitting in the office, new king of the Port Mafia. And his two very important guests are making their way up here. Chuuya hurriedly puts the letters back away. They were how you communicated with him, updated him on you and your son. Though you never put any return address, so Chuuya couldn’t send one back even if he wanted to. Also, you didn’t include any photos, so Chuuya is curious how his son has turned out.

Your timing is impeccable, to choose to visit him just as he’s taken over the office. He suspects maybe you have your ways, what with the vast amount of officials you have wrapped around your finger.

But as the doors open, every other thought he has is thrown out the window. You enter first, and his face lights up, seeing those familiar pair of eyes, so warm, so inviting now. And behind you, your son, now slightly taller than you (and probably Chuuya but he refuses to think of that), greeting him with a polite nod and a smirk on his face.

A wave of understanding washes across his child’s face when he spots something hanging on the wall behind his father.

“Hey! You kept the drawing I did when I first came here!”

He had drawn the three of you together, with himself in the middle, his parents on either side of him, holding his hands and walking in a park.

Chuuya chuckles. “Of course, it was the only thing your mom let me remember you by.” He shifts his gaze over to you as your son gets the hint, moving to admire another far corner of the room.

You let yourself fall into his arms, and Chuuya hugs you tight. Because it’s taken eighteen years. A long, torturous eighteen years apart, which honestly was a run in circles, though it was a necessary one. But now finally, he can be together with you, and his son. Chuuya looks down at you with the warmest gaze you’ve ever seen, wet eyes threatening to spill with tears any moment now.

“Welcome home, my love.”

tags. @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes @animatedarchives

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rallamajoop · 3 years

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The Witcher: The Games vs the Books part 2 – Characters and Accents

So, I've already talked at length about the relationship between the Witcher books and games, but how well they captured individual characters is its whole own subject – and you’d better believe I have enough thoughts on it for a whole extra post.

Andrej Sapkowski's skill for creating vivid and engaging characters really is so much of what brings the books to life, and no matter how much work an adaptation might put into worldbuilding and plot, it's the characters you've really got to nail to get the long-time fans on board. Especially when you’ve done what the games have, framing themselves as a direct continuation of Sapkowski's story. Nothing invites comparison to your source material like basically forcing fans to read the original novels to understand even half the backstory alluded to in-game.

So how did they do? I can only offer my opinion – characterisation is necessarily going to be a lot more subjective than just telling you what plot points the games contradicted outright – but like any fan, I have opinions in plenty.

Of the main cast, I feel Yennefer is the character they've captured the best. They've done just as well with some supporting players – I have no real complaints about Dijkstra or Phillipa, for example, who are favourites of mine in both games and books. For the main players though, Geralt and Regis seem to be the ones who's differences I'm most inclined to forgive, whereas I don't feel like they've done Ciri justice at all. Book!Geralt is much less of a smartarse, for one thing, whereas Book!Ciri is much more of one. But if we're talking about the differences, I’m afraid we really need to start with Dandelion.

Dandelion

For all the genuinely good work the games do with characters, old and new, I don't think I can overstate what a disservice the they've done Dandelion, who I could not stand in TW3, but is now one of my favourite book!verse characters. Alas, Dandelion is a prime example of something the Witcher games really don't do well: camp. Being the archtypical bard, Dandelion is about as flamboyant as any enthusiastically-heterosexual man can be: you should be able to spot this guy by body language alone, he should be flouncing around and he should talk like a spoiled noble auditioning for Shakespeare. Book!Dandelion is over-the-top and ridiculous and just so much fun, and I loved him well before I'd even really gotten into the rest of the books around him.

Here's just a bit of dialogue from one of his first appearances, to give you a sense of how he and Geralt play off each other.

The bard seized the fingerboard of his lute and plucked the strings vigorously. ‘How would you prefer it, in verse or in normal speech?’ ‘Normal speech.’ ‘As you please,’ Dandelion said, not putting his lute down. ‘Listen then, noble gentlemen, to what occurred a week ago near the free town of Barefield. ‘Twas thus, that at the crack of dawn, when the rising sun had barely tinged pink the shrouds of mist hanging pendent above the meadows—’ ‘It was supposed to be normal speech,’ Geralt reminded him. ‘Isn’t it? Very well, very well. I understand. Concise, without metaphors. A dragon alighted on the pastures outside Barefield.’

Though TW3's Dandelion certainly looks the part, you have to go hunting through art from the Gwent cards to find much that comes close to really capturing his personality (see left pic below – though even there, a Dandelion who'd voluntarily break his treasured lute is a very hard sell). Though a lot of fanart does better (right-below – credit goes to Tatiana Ortaliz).

But as poorly as the games capture his flamboyance, they're not that much better when it comes to taking him seriously. TW3 left me thinking he was all talk and no substance; the books make abundantly clear that he really is renowned enough to be welcome in courts across the continent. Though he often overestimates what he can talk himself out of, he isn’t stupid either: he's lectured at Oxenfurt, spied for Dijkstra, and then there are the moments where the frivolous playboy mask slips and you realise he's sometimes much better at understanding people and relationships than Geralt will ever be (which is honestly kind of funny considering how many of Dandelion’s relationships end with plates being thrown at him from an upper story). He's not at all above mocking Geralt when he deserves it either (and especially his personal and relationship issues) – Geralt will happily mock him right back.

We never do learn how they became friends (I'm pretty sure the incident listed in the wiki is just the date of their first expedition together, not their first meeting), but Geralt just doesn't form lasting friendships or romances with anyone he can't have an intelligent conversation with. And Dandelion is a damn good friend to Geralt – one who, despite being a helpless, squishy little bard, will keep Geralt's secrets under torture, or will follow him into Nilfgaard in the middle of a war simply because you don't let a friend make a trip like that alone. (Seriously, I don’t ship it nearly as much as some, but hot damn there is some material in here if you do.) In short, it's basically inconceivable that he'd leave an amnesic Geralt wandering around Vizima alone, as he does in the first Witcher game – which is the kind of thing I can mostly forgive as a gameplay conceit, only it doesn’t really get better from there.

He’s also supposed to be blond, something I don’t think is technically specified until fairly late in the novels, but 100% what I’d been picturing since his first description as a man in a colourful bonnet with cornflower-blue eyes (let’s face it: Dandelion’s hair isn’t the only thing about him that screams ‘blond’). It’s a shame no-one from the games to the show to the novels’ cover artists seem to have noticed – but at least there are some fanartists out there who were paying attention (credit for these goes to Asphaloth, Ghostcupdraws, Hvit-ravn (tumblr deleted), 94355 and itsmespicaa).

As for the games? Well, I cannot speak to how Dandelion came across in the original Polish, but I think it speaks worlds about the priorities of the English version that they didn’t even bother to cast someone with a halfway-decent singing voice as their master bard. There are isolated moments of dialogue that come close to sounding like book!Dandelion– mostly in Witcher 2, which comes closer to capturing the spirit of the books than either 1 or 3, or his attempts to convince his captor he's a disguised noble when you rescue him TW3 – but his voice actor is just painfully ill-suited to the role.

Geralt

Geralt fares much better than Dandelion, though he’s still a little hard to square with the Geralt of the books. Book!Geralt spends a lot more time sulking, just to begin with: he sulks because his job is complicated and gets him no respect, and because the world is unjust and unfair – and, most of all, he sulks because Yennefer has dumped him again. He also gets mocked for sulking, and usually deserves it. Book!Geralt is generally a lot more taciturn and a less prone to making smart comments just to have something to say – arguably because in book!Geralt's world, making smart comments often ends at the gallows, or at least with some corrupt official making your life much harder. Book!Geralt's world kind of sucks, and he's just got to put up with it.

As much as he often plays into the expectations of being an uneducated monster hunter, he's also got a more of an intellectual streak than you’d guess. He may prefer to stay out of politics (because damnit, his job is to save people from monsters, not people who are monsters), but he attended school at Nenneke's temple and has even taken classes at Oxenfurt academy, and there's a lot of thoughtful nuance to his opinions – his speech to Ciri about why he can't in good conscience take a stronger stance against the Scoiata'el contains a wealth of historical perspective, just for one example. Even his smart comments tend to be, well, somewhat smarter in the books.

Book!Geralt’s explicitly a lot younger than Yennefer – around 50 is the usual estimate, falling far short of the 100-ish the games suggest (the scandal of having a man fall for – gasp! – an older woman clearly didn’t bother Sapkowski one bit). You don’t see nearly as much "I'm getting too old for this" from book!Geralt, who's really not that old by witcher standards, and is apparently still hunting monsters long into his future. I'm also a little annoyed by the way they play off his hatred of portals like he's a grumpy old man who doesn't like mobile phones, when his distrust originally came from having seen the gruesome deaths that result when portals go wrong. This is not to say Book!Geralt lacks other ordinary human flaws, however – twice in the last two books of the main saga, he gets severely sidetracked after his ego gets the better of him (in the adulation he receives after being knighted, then after arriving in Toussaint), and it's quite some time before he properly gets back on track for that whole rescuing-Ciri thing again. He’s also pretty hopeless when it comes to romance and relationships – breaking things off gracefully is really not in his skillset.

So why does game!Geralt not bother me more? Well, he's the main player character of a game franchise, and one who has to carry the experience largely solo. Some adjustments for genre are pretty much inevitable in that position. He's certainly fared better than Meve, for example, who's been softened far more from her book characterisation for her PC role in Thronebreaker. Then there's the whole amnesia thing – it's easy to believe that sort of experience would change a man – and if he doesn't sulk so much as he used to, maybe he's grown up a bit. Geralt's also in many ways the straight-man of Sapkowski's Witcher universe – there largely as the reliable centre for other, louder personalities to play off. But I expect the real bottom line here is that I do still like game!Geralt enough to forgive him a lot of what he lacks.

The books never do describe Geralt as being very attractive – something book-based fanart often tries to reflect. The point has been made before that the rather-alien-looking Geralt of the first game (left pic above) is probably a lot closer to his book-description. However, the main distinguishing factor you’ll see in book-based fanart is probably the ubiquitous headband, which genuinely is what book!Geralt wears to make his hair behave (the example on the right above comes from Diana Novich).

All that said, if Sapkowski really wants me to believe that nearly so many women are eager to jump into bed with him, I’m going to have to shallowly assume our witnesses are unreliable on this front, and Geralt is at least as attractive as Witcher 3′s take on him. Nothing else makes sense. *g*

Regis

Regis varies mostly in that book!Regis is a lot more smug, sometimes verging on obnoxious – and a lot keener to make fun of Geralt (who generally deserves it). But then, Regis is old and wise and superpowered enough to dance rings around most everyone else – can you blame him? By Blood and Wine, Regis' overconfidence has been recently smacked down hard after his near-death-experience at the hands of Vilgefortz, and that kind of thing could knock some chips off anyone's shoulder. Throw in the fact that with Dettlaff, we have a situation not even Regis could make light of, and the changes to game!Regis make a certain amount of sense.

I do feel it's a bit of a shame that the vocal direction didn't work just a little bit harder to capture some of Regis' smugger side, or emphasise that his long-winded philosophising on human behaviour is supposed to sound a bit pretentious. This is actually something I suspect they were going for a few times in the script, but which didn't come through in the dialogue quite the way it was meant to. Still, again, I'm sure I'm biased by the fact that I like game!Regis far too much to find much fault in what they've done with him. They've done a lovely job capturing his friendship with Geralt too.

Looks-wise, there's a tendency in book-based art to portray Regis with long hair (even some pre-Blood-and-Wine Gwent art did so – see the two pics on the left above, from Gwent and early B&W concepts. The right-most pic is cover art from the books). I couldn't rightly tell you where long-haired-Regis comes from, though – perhaps it's described more explicitly in the original Polish, or perhaps it comes up in passing in some passage I've forgotten, though it may just as well just be a fannish meme.

The books do describe him as looking rather like a tax collector, slim, middle-aged, with an aquiline nose, prone to wearing black, and his hair as 'greying' or 'grey streaked', so presumably somewhat younger-looking than the game would have it. The hammer-horror-esque sideburns are likewise a game-verse addition, though I do like the look they went with – it's distinct from Geralt in a way that making him another long-grey-haired man wouldn't have been, and that's probably the point.

Being the hopeless Regis fan I am, I have quite the folder full of different fanart takes on book!Regis, so have a selection – art here is by gellihana-art, justanor, greysmartwolf, Nastyaskaya, NatalyLanier, beidak, natalliel, ellaine and afternoon63. For what it’s worth, I feel beidak’s (bottom pic, second from the left) comes the closest to what I’d have pictured personally, based on how he’s first described.

Ciri

I find it much harder to rationalise the changes to game!Ciri, who I didn't exactly dislike, but found stuck too close to the role of generic-macguffin-girl-who-just-wants-to-be-normal to be very interesting. Having read the books, not only do I much prefer book!Ciri, I'm not sure I can emphasize enough how much the game did NOT prepare me for utter gauntlet of whump and misery that girl survives in the last four titles. Book!Ciri is a character who works for me mostly because of the same flaws the game mostly strips her free of – TW3 makes some token noise about how you can't tell her what to do, but she’s an utter little royal brat when we first meet book!Ciri, and it’s so much of what brings her to life. She throws herself into her witcher training with the enthusiasm of a kid going completely native, but still revels in getting to be girly for a change when Triss first arrives at Kaer Morhen. She hates Yennefer at first, but soon bonds with her just as strongly as she ever did with Geralt, picking up some of Yennfer’s haughty mannerisms along the way. And then she gets thrown through a portal and lost in the distant wilderness, and the whole world comes down on her head.

The build up to the first time Ciri actually has to kill someone is intense... and things only get worse from there. Steadily. For another couple of novels at a stretch. Seriously, a major caveat that pretty much has to go into any rec for these books (and I will absolutely rec these books) is that Ciri's story gets heavy. So heavy one finds oneself using phrases like, "that time that one guy died of his wounds on top of her while semi-consensually feeling her up was honestly one of the less traumatic incidents in the period."

By the end of the novels, Ciri has nearly died of thirst, been beaten, tied up, dragged around the country as a prisoner, run with bandits and killed innocent people for the fun of it, done fantasy-cocaine and got a tattoo, fought off more than one attempted rape, been drugged, lain for multiple nights next to an impotent elf who completely fails to impregnate her, watched the bodies of her friends and girlfriend being mutilated in front of her, and did I mention where she got that scar? She has survived hell, and it is absolutely a testament to her own strength that she somehow comes through it and puts herself back together at the end. When Geralt finally arrives to rescue her, what matters most isn't that her ordeal is over, but that she finally knows she hasn’t been abandoned by everyone who’d ever loved her after all.

The Ciri of the books is fierce and wild and arrogant, but she's learned her morals from the best, and she holds onto them until she can't, then picks them back up again when she can, and above all she survives. For all that her story turns arguably too much of the last two books into a slog of misery, oh boy does it pay off at the end. And that's probably about as much as I can say about her Big Moment in the last book without spoiling too much, so suffice to say that by the end of the saga, Geralt has pretty much become a supporting character in Ciri's story, not the other way around. (Seriously, you’d be surprised how few chapters of the last two books he’s actually in.)

Finding art which captures the aspects of Ciri’s character and history which are missing from the game has turned out to be pretty hard, though the fanart above from her bandit phase takes a decent crack at it (credit to Loles Romero and NastyaSkaya). I do rather like that one shot of her on horseback beside her girlfriend too, which comes from Denis Gordeev’s illustrations for the novels (below).

How much of this does TW3 get across with her portrayal in the game? Well, she's still pretty headstrong, I guess. And they let you give a 'sorry, I like girls' answer in one bit of dialogue, so they remembered her girlfriend existed. That's nice. But game!Ciri still has a kind of wide-eyed innocence that book!Ciri lost years ago, while book!Ciri is a little force of nature in ways the games hardly even hint at, and that's a really shameful loss.

You'd think, with a character so young, it ought to be easier to imagine she's simply grown up since we saw her last, but so much of what's changed about Ciri feels like a step back rather than forwards. I can shrug off Geralt and Regis' differences and still enjoy their game-verse-selves, but Ciri leaves me genuinely disappointed.

I’d say the official art that comes closest to capturing book!Ciri is that one portrait of her as a very grumpy young child (right above). Some of the early concept art (left above) feels a little more like it has her attitude, though she’s rather too yellow-blonde – not to mention too pretty. I think it also bears pointing out that Ciri isn’t really supposed to be the kind of beauty she is in the game – even before she gets what’s meant to be a seriously ugly and disfiguring scar. (Fanart below by justanor and bobolip)

But of course, the male gamer fanbase can’t be expected to give a fuck about a girl they wouldn’t want to fuck, so game!Ciri must be generically gorgeous. Le sigh.

Triss

I suppose I should at least touch on Triss, too, though she's a very odd case. She's so out of character in the first Witcher game that I am wryly amused that the biggest thing they arguably do get right is that taking advantage of Geralt the moment he showed up with amnesia is... pretty well in-character for her (look, I gotta be honest here, I'm not much of a fan of Triss in any of her incarnations).

The second game does a much better job with her – she actually feels like book!Triss, she has some good dialogue, we're finally dealing with some of her conflicted loyalties to the Lodge and to Geralt – though by the third, her characterisation has been so softened into “the nice one” that none of that potentially meaty conflict is ever resolved, or even really mentioned. Perhaps there's more buried in the Triss-romance path, which I've never bothered with, but the writers seem to have just given up on dealing with anything that might make her look less than wholly sympathetic. Heck, we hardly even get a clear statement about why she and Geralt broke up between Witchers 2 and 3.

Even speaking as such a not-a-fan of Triss, I promise there is more they could've done with the character the books give us. There's her ongoing trauma in from the Battle of Sodden, where she was injured so badly she was memorialised as one the dead: the 14th of the hill. There's her furious impatience with the neutrality of both the witchers and the Lodge: Triss has fought and died for a cause, and is ready to do so again. The second game sort of gets into this, but by and large, the games really aren't up to tackling the moral complexity of having such a theoretically-sympathetic character as Triss, who was still broadly willing to go along with the Lodge's plans to pair Ciri off and get her pregnant as soon as possible – her own wishes be damned. No, instead, Triss has conveniently left the Lodge before the rest of them go spiraling into abject villainy in the second game, clearing all that messy grey stuff out of the conflict.

Of course, the really big unresolved plot point still hanging over book!Triss is how badly she needs to terms with the fact Geralt's just Not That Into Her, and never has been – but since the games want Triss to be a serious romantic option, that's definitely not getting the resolution it could've used.

Book!Triss also pointedly avoids any outfit with a plunging neckline because her chest is covered with the ugly scars she received in the Battle of Sodden, something the games did not have the guts to reproduce. In a more confusing note, the books do consistently describe her hair as 'chestnut', which we'd usually think of as meaning 'brown' – though it turns out the games actually may not have been wrong to make her a redhead, since in Poland 'chestnut hair' apparently mean dark red hair (google some pictures of actual chestnuts, and you'll see why). Still, the firy-red-haired Triss of TW3 who wears nothing but plunging necklines remains a bit of a stretch, however you slice it. Once again, TW2 gets her best (and I must say, gave her the nicest outfit) – though even here she's conspicuously unscarred in all her sex scenes.

(Leftmost pic above is official Witcher 2 art, whereas Triss-with-scars fanart comes to us – once again – from nastyaskaya)

Shani

Shani sort of falls into a similar category as Triss as someone who isn't terribly well-served by any of her appearances, given that both exist in the first game largely to compete for Geralt's attentions. But I can't honestly say I find Shani’s portrayal in the Hearts of Stone expansion to be much better – the degree to which either version exists solely to fall all over Geralt is a bit painful, especially given that their relationship in the books is limited to a single, undramatic hook-up. Book!Shani really only appears in a couple of chapters: we meet her as a medical student friend of Dandelion's, who's been surreptitiously selling pilfered university supplies to fund her degree, then later see her again in the final book, where she proves herself as a battlefield medic during the climactic Battle of Brenna. She's pragmatic to a fault, and I really can't see her as the type who needs Geralt to point out to her that her patient is dead, for example, or who'd subject a guy with Geralt's problems to such an extended feelings-dump as you'll get out of her during the wedding.

Shani is a reasonably logical book-character to bring back, if only because she’s one of those who explicitly survives the ending, but for my money, "serious contender for Geralt's affections" is just not a role she works in.

Anna Henrietta

The duchess of Toussaint, Anna Henrietta, is another case who differs more from her book counterpart than you might think. In the books, the duchess is by far the least competent of the (pleasantly many and) various female leaders and rulers we meet – she comes across as rather young and naive, and every bit as absurd as everyone else in the ridiculous fairy-tale duchy she rules. She is, for example, most displeased to learn that Nilfgaard's war against the north is ongoing (something her courtiers have carefully avoided mentioning in her presence), because she'd long since sent the Emperor a stern note demanding he brought it to an end. She promptly has one of her ministers sent to the tower for misinforming her, and demands the others prepare an even sterner note for the emperor, which will surely do the job.

After Dandelion (inevitably) cheats on her, she has him repeatedly sent to the gallows, only to change her mind and send him a reprieve at the very last minute each time. Picture yourself a much younger and prettier version of the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland, and you've about got her general vibe.

Blood and Wine sort of waves at this part of her character when she first speaks about Dandelion, and again in suggesting there's a widespread feeling she lacks compassion, and once more as she proves utterly immovable on the subject of her sister. But the generally sensible and insightful woman you deal with for most of the main story is a far cry from her book-verse characterisation. That’s a bit of a shame, because I feel like there's a lot more they could have done to blend the two versions of her. Still, it’s hard to argue the duchess we get suits the story being told around her.

Other characters

Much as I love Yennefer, Dijkstra and Phillipa, I don't really have much more to say about them because I feel the games have done such a good job. The Yennefer of the books gets to show a lot more depth and complexity simply because she has more scenes and more space in which to do so, but when ‘there isn’t more of her’ is your biggest complaint, the game is officially doing pretty well. I could certainly gripe her about how “dresses in black and white” seems to have been taken as “dresses in black with maybe a trace of white trim”, or how Yennefer and Triss seem to be the only sorceresses in the world capable of wearing pants, when Phillipa (just for one) is in sensible men’s clothing the very first time we meet her, but that’s getting into serious nitpicking territory.

(Not that Yen can’t look amazing in outfits with more white – art by Emily Caroll, theclashofqueens, BarbaraRosiak, and cosplay by greatqueenlina)

Vesimir, Lambert and Eskel, Geralt's fellow witchers from the School of the Wolf, fall into a similar category for me – though we spend far less time with them in the books, everything we see of them in the games feels like a fairly logical extension of their book-roles. Vesimir is somewhat over-played as the old fogey, and his death is painfully cliched, but the impact on the characters and Kaer Morhen still hits home – and the games do some especially great work expanding Lambert into a much more complex character. To my mind, the only shame is that more of the book-original characters didn't get the same treatment.

Who have I missed? There's Avallac'h, of course, but I think I've got him pretty well covered by that last post. Zoltan, perhaps inevitably, has had his personality largely flattened into 'generic dwarf', with nothing better to do than hang around Geralt and Dandelion. You wouldn't know Book!Zoltan was apparently incapable of turning away women and children in need, for example – even human women and children with the chronic inability to say thankyou for his help. Or that he eventually admits to Geralt that the luggage he and his friends are carrying comes from a decidedly unsavoury source for such a supposedly charitable, upstanding guy. Yes, even Zoltan gets to be a morally complicated character in the books – who knew?

Speaking of dwarves, pleased as I am that Yarpen Zigren gets remembered in TW2, he's an odd one to talk about, since even in the books, he appears to have had a substantial personality transplant between his two main appearances. Yarpen’s a largely comedic figure in The Bounds of Reason short story, where he cheerfully admits to having considered letting his men knock down a particularly pompous aristocrat and piss all over him to teach him a lesson, but he’s evolved into a studious voice of reason against the scoiata'el by Blood of Elves. TW2 doesn't do a particularly good job of capturing either version, which I suspect probably bothered me more than most people – I liked the later book-incarnation of Yarpen immensely (and not even just because he's one of few ever to really call Triss out on just how much she needs to stop misreading Geralt's friendship as anything more than it is). His chapter in Blood of Elves packs a hell of a punch.

On the subject of accents

I do have to wonder if I'd have warmed up to characters like Triss, Shani and Dandelion (or even Letho) more if they'd only had halfway decent voice actors. It's not just that none are exactly leading the talent at the acting part of the job, it's that their American accents stick out in TW3 like a sore thumb.

Geralt mostly gets away his own US accent by dint of being the very first character we meet, so we've gotten used to the way he talks long before we notice how he stands out – hell, maybe that's just how they talk down in Rivia (hilariously, book!Geralt eventually reveals he's not even from Rivia, but simply picked the place and taught himself the accent so he could feel a bit less like the abandoned foundling he is, which only gives us yet more excuse for why his accent might sound a bit weird). More importantly, Geralt is meant to stand out, to be the outsider wherever he goes, so having him sound like no-one else fits the character.

But neither Triss or Dandelion are "of Rivia", and by the time they show up we've had dozens of hours in a game where literally everyone else sounds British, or Scottish, or Irish, or vaguely-eastern-European in the case of the Nilfgaardians. So why do these weirdos sound like no-one else on the continent?

The short answer seems to be that every character with an American accent in TW3 is someone who had an American accent in at least one of the previous games, which were way looser with their casting and had enough incidental American accents around that they didn't stand out. Clearly, by TW3, consistency with prior games has been prioritised over consistency with literally anything else we’re hearing.

Gaetan is an exception to the rule as the only new character (at least that I caught) with an American accent – presumably because between Geralt, Eskel, Lambert, Berengar, and Letho (and cohorts), some sort of 'witchers have American accents' rule has been pretty well established (another random American-accented witcher shows up in Thronebreaker, just to underline the point). We're going to mostly ignore Jad Karadin here, since his British accent is presumably a recent affectation to go with his new identity, and so makes sense.

This still doesn't really work though, since Letho’s school is all the way down in Nilfgaard (land of the Eastern European accents), while the oldest witcher from Kaer Morhen (Vesimir) is the one guy with a British accent. He sounds nothing like any of his students, despite the fact he's logically the guy they ought to have learned their accents from. So the logic falls in a heap however you slice it, and I'm thrown right out of the game.

With TW3 as your intro to the series, it feels almost as if characters like Triss and Dandelion have been assigned American accents because they're just too important to be saddled with the same pedestrian British accents as everyone else, which did nothing to endear them to me. The only one I eventually warmed up to was Lambert, and then only because he's just such a bitter asshole that he eventually goes full circle and comes out the other side (somewhere around when you've heard his miserable backstory, then gotten drunk together and told him how much you love him, man). Gaetan similarly snuck in under the same clause – American accents clearly work better for me in this series when attached to characters you're supposed to find pretty insufferable on first impressions.

Some final notes

To conclude, it seems only fair to throw in a quick nod to some of the more memorable book-characters who don't appear in the games. Neither Mother Nenneke (Geralt's sort-of-surrogate mother) or Vissena (Geralt's biological mother) ever appear either, alas – Vissena doesn't even merit so much as a Gwent card, which seems quite the wasted opportunity.

Milva, Cahir and Angouleme – the three remaining companions of Geralt’s who died alongside Regis but who were not so easily resurrected – naturally don’t appear. But nor are even really mentioned in all the games, which seems rather less than they deserve after giving their lives to Geralt's cause.

Cahir and Angouleme do at least have pretty badass Gwent cards to their names, though I am properly offended that Milva (who has the dubious honour of being my very favourite book character who doesn't ever appear in the games) is stuck with a card of her freaking death scene – which not only gets the scene wrong (believe me, there was no grimacing and gripping the arrow buried shallowly in her chest for poor Milva), but doesn't even bother to get her hair the right colour, for fuck’s sake. Basically, Milva was a stone cold badass and absolutely deserves better. #justice4milva

One can only guess how I'd have felt about some of these characters had I read the books before playing the games – I am obviously biased towards forgiving changes to characters whom I liked in their game incarnations, regardless of how they compare. Still, I think it does speak wonders that there still all these characters who suddenly made sense only after I'd met them in the books.

Even if only for Dandelion and Ciri, I can only dream of seeing a bit more of the book-original characterisations make it into the collective fannish consciousness. There's nothing wrong with getting into the canon purely based on the show or the games, but having read Sapkowski's novels, it's no longer any mystery how they spawned this massive franchise. That the saga wasn’t even fully available in English until well after Witcher 3 was released – a solid couple of decades late, and long after it had already been translated into Russian, French, German, Spanish and more – is a real shame. For once, it’s us in the anglophone world who’ve been missing out: these books deserve so much more than to be thought of as a footnote to the games or the show.

#Dandelion #Witcher novels #Jaskier #Ciri #Regis #Geralt of Rivia #meta #The Witcher #long post is even longer this time #I blame everyone who gave me such lovely feedback on that last post *g*

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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

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Okay, here we go! Imma do my liveblog of The Hunger Games, Chapter One, for #THGagain :

I’ll put my thoughts underneath the cut so I don’t clog up the dash 🥳

Okay but right off the bat, Katniss says her mattress cover is rough 🥺. I don’t know, this just made me sad all of a sudden.

So okay, but the fact that Prim had a bad dream and climbed in with their mother? I don’t know if that indicates that Prim still sees their mother as a source of comfort whereas Katniss can’t let herself feel the same way or if it’s just because she didn’t want to wake Katniss.

Maybe it’s supposed to be that Prim is too naive to understand that their mother is mentally fragile? Since in Mockingjay, she says “I know there’s only so much mother can hear,” or something like that, as a way to prove she’s not a little kid anymore sooo. I don’t know. Just some thoughts.

Katniss is shady towards mama right off the bat 🤣. Katniss is shady no matter what though. It’s what makes her narration sound like a teenage girl.

If Katniss is so anti-social though, who’s telling her her mother was once beautiful?

As a cat lover, I take offense to Katniss’ insults to the poor one eyed furball 😭.

So coal miners are also women? I suspected as much but I didn’t realize it was explicitly stated? So if Katniss’ life had gone differently, would she have become a coal miner?

So none of the houses in Twelve get electricity outside of a couple hours a night? Or just in the Seam?

I always forget that Katniss had nightmares even before the games 😔😔😔. Nightmares of her father “being blown to bits.” She has a vivid way with words.

Her father made her bow 🥺🥺. I knew that. I just thought I should mention it again. She uses the bow her father handmade throughout the series 🥺.

Also she says Peacekeepers turn a blind eye to “the few of them who hunt”. A few is more than two. Who else besides Katniss and Gale go hunting?

I like that she randomly starts mumbling to herself 🤣🤣🤣

Once upon a time, Katniss was outspoken apparently. But she mentions that she has to hold her tongue even at home because Prim may repeat her words. I don’t know why, but Prim seems immature for twelve years old. At twelve, in today’s society, you’re going into sixth grade. A sixth grader should know how to keep a secret or hold her tongue.

Gale says she never smiles but in the woods but isn’t that the only place they really spend time together? 🤣

“I kind of liked that lynx but I liked the money I got for it’s pelt more” 😂😂😂

An arrow inside bread. How fortuitous 😭😭😭

I do love that Katniss’ first introduction of Gale is “he could be my brother”

“But we’re at least not that closely related” 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

“Katniss, get off your cousin”

Even though the merchant class is smaller

Meaning they’re even more inbred

And Katniss is half merch-

Okay I’m done with this line of thinking 🤭😅

So backwoods 🤣

So did Mrs. Everdeen’s parents disown her? Or what? Do they still own that apothecary shop? Does Katniss occasionally walk by her grandparents in the town square? Like I’d like more context here, Suz 🙃

Aww, I always feel so bad for Katniss when she talks about her mother abandoning her 😭😩🥺

“But to be honest, I’m not the forgiving type” me either. Me either 🤧.

This may be why I so closely relate to her when she’s angry.

And why when people in the book say she needs to be more forgiving (ala Haymitch) I’m like “no”

I’m sorry but on second glance (more like 8th glance because I’ve read this chapter since I was 16) it’s so obvious Gale was hitting on her here 😅.

She’s oblivious 🤣🤣🤣

As she should be 😆

So later on, in the second book at least, Katniss definitely has some high respect for Hazelle Hawthorne. But here it seems to be like she’s implying Hazelle and her own mother are useless without her and Gale, and like they wouldn’t be able to provide for themselves. Maybe Hazelle just wasn’t fleshed out to Suzanne when she wrote the first book, the same way the love triangle you can tell if you look is sort of just tossed in there in the first book too? Anyways, just a thought.

That line about Prim being the only person Katniss is certain that she loves is sweet (it’s actually one of my favorite lines in the series) but it’s also so shady at the same time 😅😅😅. Like girl, you’re not sure if you love your mother or even your best friend (in a platonic way)?

Katniss makes a point in mentioning it took a long time for her and Gale to become friends. And I feel like that has been simplified a lot along the way, but it never really sounded to me like Katniss and Gale were besties for as long as most people think. The movies are a lot to blame for this, I know.

I don’t actually think Katniss is truly jealous here of the other girls wanting Gale? I feel like if she were she would have unconsciously insulted the school girls who were into him instead of just outright saying she was jealous, just not for romantic reasons. But who knows 🤷🏼‍♀️.

It was already mentioned earlier but I think Suzanne made a continuity error here, when Gale and Katniss mentioned fishing at the lake. The lake is a place Katniss explicitly mentioned in Catching Fire, to be private between her and her father. She even specially said she never took Gale there. I feel much better about my own writing continuity errors now.

Okay, both Katniss and Gale are so dumb. I would never prepare a feast for after the reaping. They’re just jinxing themselves. I have OCD really bad no one come for me.

I like how The Hob is a black market that’s literally just sitting in broad daylight 🤣🤣🤣.

Katniss just referenced being attacked by dogs... um I’m sorry, do we have no fear of rabies in this universe? 😭😭🙃🙃😐😐😅😅

Katniss : “me and the mayor’s daughter aren’t friends, we just hang out all the time at school, eat lunch together, sit by each other and are always partners. But weren’t not friends.” 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

I like the mention of hair ribbons for the rich girl. This is just the fic writer in me seeping into my reading.

Gale and Madge’s little dispute ...

I see why they get shipped together 😅. They’re both just taking swipes at each other here.

Awww, Katniss sticking up for Madge, even though Madge is the privileged one 😭. Katniss has such a pure heart.

The entire point of the Madge/Gale interaction though was just to set up the class divide explanation in Katniss’ head to the reader.

But my Peeta centric heart also picks up on the comments in Katniss’ head of how unlikely it is to be chosen at the reaping when you’re a town kid.

In other words, Peeta had a slim to none chance of being chosen and still was.

Now I think of it, so was Prim...

That was just an unlucky reaping for the kids without tesserae 🙃

Also it reminds me of every fic I ever read that mentioned a conspiracy in the reapings and how the kids aren’t actually chosen at random but anyways I digress

I feel Gale though, with the whole idea of knowing something isn’t this person’s fault and there’s nothing they could do but still being so angry at them because it isn’t fair that you have to suffer and they don’t.

My anger issues are really showing 😅😅😅.

Honestly though, if Katniss is saying Gale on a normal day is rational about the class divide not being merchants faults, then clearly his issues with Peeta later on really were just of jealousy and not because he was a merchant vs Seam.

I just feel like I’ve seen that around and I’m not really convinced

In my interpretation of the character, Katniss’ reasons for not sharing in Gale’s rage comes from exhaustion after a lifetime of powerlessness. Some people (re: females more often) just get worn out about the things they cannot change and can’t even let it get inside their brain because there’s nothing they could do about it.

I mean, she is a more understanding person than Gale but I feel like so much of her character is already so tired right from chapter one.

Okay, just a pointless rambling thought

“Where something pretty” these children are so shady 🤣🤣🤣 that’s a line I would say though

The fact that her like 42 year old mother still fits in a dress she wore at like 20 is really a testament to how hungry they are 🤧🤧🤧

Okay but I’m not trying to pick on her mother, but when they were starving, why did either she or Katniss sell the fancy clothes from her apothecary days? I’m nitpicking I know. I’m a nitpicker.

Also good for Katniss trying to forgive her mother.

God knows how hard it is for me to try and forgive people.

Literally, God knows.

I like that Katniss didn’t disagree with Prim saying she’s beautiful, just that she doesn’t usually look this way 😂😂😂.

I just know my sister wouldn’t let me not take tesserae if this was us. She’d be like “you’ll be fine, four entries? Please. We can have more food for an entire year, don’t be selfish.” 😅😅😅

I feel like noting that Katniss and Prim’s age gap isn’t that significant? Four years? That’s not that large. Not even at 12 and 16.

They herd these children off like they’re .... pigs going to a slaughter... 🤭🤭🤭

Katniss casually stating “I could be shot on a daily basis” 😐😐😐

Katniss and Gale agreeing they’d rather be shot than starve is honestly so sad but lowkey sounds like something two teenagers would say. They should have put dialogue like this in the movies.

I didn’t even remember District 12 has 8,000 people.... why’d I think they only had 3,000????

I need to update some of my fics with this information

Katniss just said “televised by the state”. I’ve never heard her call any region a state before?

I like that Katniss calls Effie’s grin scary and white, because tons of people (i.e me) whiten our teeth in today’s society. And to Katniss and probably all of Twelve that’s creepy. I think it’s weird to Europeans too but l digress.

Also do the people in this district brush and floss, they never seem to mention it in the books, ya know?

Honestly the idea of the hunger games sounded cooler without Songbirds and Snakes telling us it was just some dumb guy’s idea that no one ever thought would come true.

Aww, sugar is a delicacy 🤧🤧🤧

I knew already that but lemme fully feel that sentiment for a moment okey

Umm I’m sorry, did Mayor Undersee just casually state Lucy Gray Baird’s name every year and we never knew it? Did Snow just allow this? Seems suspish

Also the idea of Katniss being her distant relative and hearing the name and not knowing the connection... and yeah, anyways. I got wayyyy ahead of myself and off track sorry

Why would Haymitch hug Effie? I’m sorry, but Hayffie having a secret affair at some point in all the years they worked together seems more likely than I thought.

I mean, Katniss never mentions Haymitch hugging anyone besides her and Peeta when they just almost died, are about to die or that one time Katniss was sobbing because she thought Peeta was gonna die.

You know what though? I like that at this moment, when the name is about to be announced, Katniss worried about herself. She spends so much time worrying for her sister, babying her sister, mothering her sister, she deserves ten seconds of worrying for her own safety.

Of course, said sister is the one chosen. Ironic considering the whole encounter with Madge.

Okay, I think that concludes my thoughts for chapter one of The Hunger Games!

#thgagain #I’m not tagging anything else because this is so long I’m so sorry if anyone tries to read this mess 😅😅😅😅😅🤧🤧🤧🤧

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kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 3 years

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Hakuoki Shinkai: Ginsei no Shou - Saito Hajime Chapter #7 English Translation

My translation of the 7th Ginsei no Shou chapter for Saito... It’s probably because that this is my favourite chapter from the game and one that I found especially enjoyable to read (and had more of an understanding of it before getting translations for this lol) that I somehow translated this in record time when compared to all the other things I’ve worked on....

Unlike Kazama’s final Tsukikage chapter, the dialogue for this wasn’t all separated line by line in the CN TLs I found for the Saito chapters [NAMELY BECAUSE I WROTE EACH DAMN FUCKING WORD OUT FOR THAT CHAPTER], so some of the text in this remains lumped together. Also, huzzah for google translate providing the translations of place names since I wouldn’t have been able to translate the Japanese words that had been left in the original tl for this otherwise. I don’t usually make adjustments based on the original JP text until I start editing for the video... which will be done later.

All images used in this post were screencaps of game footage I recorded through vlc... also is it just me who feels that my English comes across as a lot more archaic when I stick to the original tl sentence structure...? lol. Anyway, as always, my translation may not be 100% accurate since I do not translate from Japanese.

PLEASE BE ADVISED THAT THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR ANOTHER GINSEI NO SHOU SAITO CHAPTER... one that I do not intend to translate right away... well I also include it in a note about what chapter it refers too. lol. it’s right below the cut.

Enjoy~! OR ELSE! MWHAHAHA!!

(jk, lol. plus, i’m too lazy to think of anything. oh and im currently working on the subtitle positioning for this now as the file got transferred recently since i finished the first round of timing [i need to do this multiple times to get the fade in/out of my subtitles to match the timing of game text’s fade/in... or to at least have them as close as possible] before having all of these tech problems.)

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Forward Notes

Based on what I remember from tokio-fujita’s notes (sorry but I didn’t check since im kinda busy rn, and the internet on my laptop is kinda unstable as I’m still transferring files... 17.3 gb remains from the dramas transfer) on Saito’s position in the Shinsengumi after leading them to Aizu, I’ve left his position as taichou in this translation due to how the only English translation for that is ‘captain’ which doesn’t show a difference in roles from when he was the Third Division captain ‘kaichou/kumicho’ [note to self: include this along with the link to the page in the post description later. also i will probably just change this to ‘captain’ anyway when i do my subtitle video].

Chapter 6 and 7 occur in Aizu

Hakuoki Shinkai: Ginsei no Shou - Saito Hajime Chapter #7

Translation by KumoriYami

7th month, 4th year of Keiou, after the Shinsengumi left for Sendai——

The Aizu, who had offended the Satcho were engulfed in the bitter flames of war.

When Shirakawa Castle was attacked, it would be a lie to say that I wasn't worried then.

Hijikata-san, Heisuke-kun, Shimada-san, and Souma-kun.

It was no longer possible to fight alongside the people who we deeply trusted since the beginning.

However……

I still have Saito-san.

Saito-san also me, although/even if/despite how I can't fight alongside him.

We relied upon one another, setting out for Shirakawa——

Shirakawa Castle, which had become the headquarters for my father's rasetsu—— we confronted him and Kazama Chikage there.

As Kazama-san had the overwhelming strength of an oni, if the fight was drawn out, Saito-san would have no chance of winning.

But, we still had....

Comrades we could rely on.

Even if [they] leave. Even if [they/they've] choose/chosen different paths.

As long as they maintained/followed their own bushido, everyone was still heading in the same direction.

I believe that as long as we moved forward, one day, our paths will surely cross again, and we will fight to the very end.

If only/I wish that everyone could see each other one more time, I could only pray that everyone would be safe……

Saito-san once again returned to the battlefield.

4th year of Keiou, 8th month

The Aizu Shinsengumi under the command of the Aizu, fought at the Bonari Pass——

After that, they fought bravely to stop the New Government army from entering Aizu Castle.

By the ninth month however, there were not many members left of the Aizu Shinsengumi, yet they still set out to defend/protect Nyoraido [refers to chapter 6] .

This is the story of what happened while I was waiting for Saito-san after he left.

Fourth year of Keiou, Ninth month

Saito-san and the other members of the troop left camp to protect Nyoraido.

Following his instructions/In accordance with his wishes, I accompanied the men who were seriously injured in battle to the rear of the formation.

Yukimura: Please wait a bit longer, I will treat you immediately.

Soldier:……At the most crucial moment, to be unable to help Saito-taichou, I'm terribly sorry.

Yukimura: ……There was no way you could, you are wounded after all.

Soldier: The taicho, is he really okay?

Perhaps it was because his wounds were too painful, that the soldier continued to weakly repeat himself.

Yukimura: Saito-san will be fine. He will surely come back alive.

In order to reassure the soldier, I spoke decisively/resolutely.

Yukimura: That's why, you need to focus on recovering right now.

Soldier:......Okay, I will.

Three days later.

The soldiers who had stayed in Nyoraido, none of them had come back yet.

The news from the front lines had also been cut off.

All that we knew was was the hopeless information brought back by the wounded.

There weren't enough bandages and medicines, and the wounded kept pouring in.

The soldier's and my worries became more intense.

It was at this time——

Aizu soldier: This is terrible/Bad news! Apparently Nyoraido has been completely surrounded by the enemy! The Shinsengumi in Nyoraido might have completely wiped out.

Yukimura:……!

The moment I heard such a dreadful announcement/news, it felt like the blood had been drained from my entire body. [news/information might be changed for ^^^ sentences. might use intelligence, communication]

A commotion spread throughout the entire formation [camp sounds more appropriate].

Soldier: Yukimura-san……

The wounded soldier looked at me with an anxious expression.

Previously, the instant I heard such news, I probably would have broken down into tears.

But, now——

Yukimura:……When such fierce fighting is going on, all sorts of rumours will be flying around we can't assume that everything is accurate before receiving an official confirmation.

Hearing what I said, the soldier seemed to calm down.

Soldier:……That's right. Before figuring things out, we'll still believe in/continue to trust the Taichou, and wait until he returns.

Even if Nyoraido has been surrounded by the enemy, the Shinsengumi may not necessarily be completely wiped out.

Shinsengumi——they, along with Saito-san, I don't know how many times they had escaped from death.

More importantly, Saito-san cannot die yet.

——flashback——

Saito: Yukimura, I wish to make you a promise.

Yukimura: A promise for me......? What is it?" Saito: No matter what happens in the future....... I will protect you with my life. This decision is not because of the Shinsengumi, Hijikata-san, or an order from the Aizu....... but of my own volition.

——end flashback——

At the time, he promised……

Even now, I can still clearly remember how we kissed after.

Saito-san, he made a promise to me.

He will come back to me.

I repeated those words in my heart over and over again, as if to convince myself......

But my heart was beating wildly, and cold sweat dripped from my forehead.

This wasn't able to eliminate my sense of unease.

Yukimura: …��……

I truly wanted to rush over to Nyoraido, to immediately go to his side.

But, my duty right now, is to treat the wounded here.

So…… I could only trust/believe in him, and wait here.

After, I continued to focus on treating the wounded while waiting for Saito-san to return.

But, reports on the situation in Nyoraido, they never came again,

The sense of [them being] defeat[ed] became more intense, and the dreary mood gradually enveloped the entire formation [will probably use "camp"]. [The feeling that they had been defeated became more intense, and...]

Soldier 2: Yukimura-san, isn't it time for you to rest? You look very pale.

Yukimura: No, it isn't time to rest yet/it's not the time to rest.

Soldier 2:……Under these circumstances, if you collapse, once something happens, there won't be anyone to depend/rely on [for what you do]. Even if it's just a short nap…… please, for everyone's sake.

When faced with such a strong request, I couldn't refuse.

Yukimura: Okay. Then I'll go and nap/sleep for a bit.

I decided to go find a corner to go nap in .

Perhaps it was because I was so tired, but once I closed my eyes, I immediately fell asleep.

As I slept, I had a dream.

Yukimura Nn, nn......

I didn't know where I was in this dream, the surroundings were hazy as I looked around.

Where……is this?

Yukimura: Is this the Aizu's…… camp……?

……Right.

I was waiting for Saito-san to come back…… then……

My head felt numb and heavy as I looked around again……

Saito:……Yukimura.

Yukimura: Saito-san……!

The person I wanted to see suddenly appeared before me/Now that the one I wanted to see suddenly appeared, I immediately got up.

Yukimura: You're back from fighting at Nyoraido! Where are the rest of the soldiers……

Saito:……In regards to this, I have something that I must tell you.

Yukimura: Eh……?

Hearing him say such ominous remarks, I couldn't help but feel confused.

Saito: Even now, you have always been at my side…… My gratitude towards you goes beyond words. If I didn't have you, I wouldn't have been able to continue fighting until now.

Yukimura: Thanks for what [reword later]……

Why was he suddenly saying such a thing?

Yukimura:……To speak of thanks, it's too much, I don't need it [It's too much for you to speak of thanking me/it's unnecessary for you to thank me]. Because, you and I……

We are no longer outsiders [/We can no longer be considered as outsiders/strangers...not sure what i’ll go with here] ——I just wanted to say that.

I don't know why, but I couldn't say anything.

The Saito-san before my eyes/right now, there was a subtle sadness to his expression, as if he was extremely sorry.

He…… wasn't like the one [man] I knew at all.

In this unnatural atmosphere, he spoke solemnly.

Saito: I……there is something I must tell you…… No matter what happens, no matter what you experience/encounter/face…… but now I [reword later]……

Yukimura:……!?

I was too late to ask him——

Saito-san's figure was already starting to fade away, then completely disappeared into the darkness of night.

Yukimura: Saito-san, don't go! What are saying to me——

I shouted out then/and lost consciousness.

When I opened my eyes again, my entire body was drenched in sweat.

Yukimura: Just now, that was a dream……

The foreboding feeling/premonition made my heart beat wildly.

Why was it at this time, that I dreamed of Saito-san?

Furthermore, in my dream, it seemed like he had something to tell me.

I had a bad hunch/felt a sense of foreboding, but there was nothing I could do.

Looking around everywhere, Saito-san and the others still hadn't come back.

Although/Even if I dreaded to think so……

Just now, it was just a bad dream, it shouldn't be a sign that something bad would happen.

Saito-san and the other soldiers, what happened to them?

……No, it couldn't be.

He promised me, he would surely come back.

But, if that wasn't the case?

……If I continued to wait here, would he really come back?

I……

Choices

【Search for him】【Believe in him and wait】 <-

Although I wanted to immediately rush to Saito-san's side……

I still remembered what he said before.

——flashback——

Saito:......As time passes, things change. The world, ideals, and even the Shinsengumi. Even so, that does not mean that everything must change. As things change with time, so too will there be things that do not change. And I...... I believe in the things that do not change.

——end flashback——

……Saito-san had never gone against the promise he made me/never broke the promise he made me.

Regardless if it was when he left the Shinsengumi to join the Guardians of the Imperial Tomb, or when he was defeated at/during the Battle of Toba-Fushimi.

Also, there was when he ended up fighting Kazama-san.

In the end, he always came back to my side [me].

So, as he promised, he will certainly come back to me.

So, I too——

Yukimura:…………

An incredible feeling swelled in my chest.

It wasn't because of panic, rather it felt like the stars were whispering to me……

This feeling pushed me out of camp.

Outside of camp was a forest that always looked the same at night [reword later].

Although I didn't know if any of the soldiers would return, I thought……

I felt somewhat dejected, and couldn't help but look up towards the night sky.

It was full of stars, quietly twinkling.

Long before I was born, these stars, they must have been watching the world in silence/been silently watching the world.

No matter how many years passed, these silver stars would always shine in the night sky.

Yukimura: Me too……

Under the allure of the dim starlight, I couldn't help but say this/I was unable to restrain my emotions.

Yukimura: I also…… believe in the things that do not change.

Even if the path forward was covered in darkness, the light that pointed towards the future still shined.

Yukimura: I believe——no matter what happens in the future, you will not change.

Just as I muttered this to myself.

There was the sound of movement through foliage.

I froze, staring attentively in the direction of the sound.

After/Then……

???: Is.…… someone there?

The moment I heard that voice, I burst into tears [or: almost burst into tears].

Shortly after, a single silhouette flashed in the woods, and its figure gradually became clearer.

Saito: Chizuru…… is that you?

My beloved/The man/The one I loved was calling my name, I could no longer/was no longer able to control myself.

Yukimura: Saito-san…… Hajime-san!

I shouted his name, throwing myself at him.

Yukimura: You came back……! Hajime-san……!

I wanted to welcome him back with a smile.

I didn't want to be crying when we were reunited.

If I cried, that would make it harder to see Hajime-san’s face……

All sorts of thoughts that I had been repressing came bursting out of my heart.

Saito: Ah…… I'm back, Chizuru. Didn't I promise you that I would return? Why are you crying? Could it be, that you didn't believe me?

Hearing Hajime-san's question, I shook my head.

Yukimura: How could I not trust you. However, I was always worried…… [and] when I heard the bad rumours at camp, my heart felt like it was going to crack/split open. Also…… I had a dream, a dream where you went far, far away……

Saito:……I see.

As I cried, Hajime-san awkwardly embraced me.

His uniform, it was completely dirty……

Although his uniform was black, a single glance showed that there were bloodstains and bullet holes everywhere.

Just from seeing him like this, I could tell he had seen a fierce battle. [ or "it was as if I could see a fierce battle." check jp mtl]

A moment later, Hajime-san showed a bitter expression.

Saito: When [we were] surrounded by the New Government Army, I was prepared to be completely wiped out/defeated…… At this time, one of the seriously injured/wounded soldiers told me: we've all been injured [been completely beaten... or some other word that i think of later that implies helplessness] and can no longer be of use to fight. Leave us behind and get out of here with the rest of the troop members——

Yukimura:……!

The decision that had been before Hajime-san, the weight of it left me speechless.

Saito: The me from before, perhaps I would have accepted this proposal. But…… the me now, it was impossible [reword later]. Hijikata-san entrusted me with the leadership of the Shinsengumi. Additionally, I could not leave those who trusted me and stayed/chose to fight together with me when the Aizu were abandoned.

Yukimura:……Nn.

I looked straight into Hajime-san's eyes, and nodded approvingly/nodded in agreement.

Hearing about the changes in Hajime-san's heart, I felt delighted/happy, as if it was my own affair.

Saito: If I had accepted that soldier's proposal, I likely would have returned sooner…… Carefully leading the troops back, it took longer than I thought…… I'm sorry for making you worry about me.

After listening to Hajime-san's words, I shook my head.

Yukimura: I……that's not important/it doesn't matter. As long as are you are like this, and as long as you come back to me…… that's enough.

Saito:…………Yes [alt I see/is that so. check audio].

Yukimura: What happened to the other troop members/soldiers?

Saito: Because they're moving while carrying the wounded, I think that it will probably be a while longer before they catch up. But they will certainly catch up.

Yukimura: So it's like that, that's good……

Just by/from feeling Hajime-san's temperature [warmth] and his breathing, I was already very happy.

As long as he was like this now, and alive [As long as he lived like this now]…… being at my side, it was enough.

From the way he was looking at me, I could clearly feel that he felt the same way I did.

Saito:……Even for myself, I find it/feel that it's incredible/unimaginable.

Yukimura:……?

I tilted my head, not understanding what he meant.

Saito: Previously, I thought, the ideal wish of a warrior/samurai [check audio] would be to die in battle. However, I now fight for the sake of my comrades, so as to survive [so that we survive/live. chck jp mtl].

Indeed, if it was the past Hajime-san, when faced between choosing life and death, he likely wouldn’t have hesitated.

But......

Yukimura: I.......love the you now....... and I love the you back then. No....... no matter however you are, I will always accept you.

Hajime-san's eyes narrowed in satisfaction.

Saito:……You once told me before. The answer, the one I painfully struggled to find, whatever it was, you would accept it.

Yukimura:……Nn.

Saito: The one who changed me, it was probably you, Chizuru.

Yukimura: Eh......?

Saito: At the most dire point/height of the fighting, I thought of your face…… and my determination to not die grew stronger. Furthermore, every time I thought of how you were doing everything to help the wounded at camp, I kept thinking that these soldiers must not die here.

Yukimura:…………

Carefully listening to my lover's voice, his words, made me feel infinitely happy. [Listening to my lover's voice, his words made me feel extremely happy.]

When Hajime-san was desperately fighting at Nyoraido, if I was able to provide him some courage……

Nothing could make me happier.

After a short while, Hajime-san slightly tilted his head, almost as if he was urging something.

There was no need to ask what would happen next.

I closed my eyes, quietly responding to him.

After a pleasant wait, our lips were pressed together.

This kiss, it was very restrained, just like how he was.

My heart was beating loudly.

These thoughts became increasingly stronger in my heart, how I wish the two of us could stay in this forest at night forever. [check jp mtl. i’m probably going to go with something to the effect of: How I wish we could just stay forever in this moment, alone and encompassed by this forest at night.*this sentence is pissing me off lol.]

No matter what happens, I will never leave him again.

Saito:……From now on, I will never let you be this sad again. So, let me see you smile/your smile. In order to see your smile, no matter what happens, I will always return to you. [check jp mtl]

Before, I once asked him what he would do one day if he had to drink the Ochimizu for the Shinsengumi……

The answer that came from his lips without any hesitation, was to 【drink it】.

Yukimura:…………Nn. Hajime-san…… Hajime-san, as long as you stay by my side, I will always be happy.

He had asked me to smile, but i couldn't help but to continue crying...

As a result, I was smiling and crying in front of the person that i loved.

About half a month later, the 22nd of the 9th month——

The Aizu-han, which had been firmly resisting the New Government army, surrendered.

——End——

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well, I probably could have made it easier for myself if I just copied the flashback text from SK/KW/EB... but I just couldn’t bring myself to look up the games to copy said text (had to uninstall them from my old pc for space to take stuff off my passport) since it’d really bother me knowing if I copied something than said it was my translation... which is why i didn’t. ah well. as a translator, the idea of taking credit on something that i didn’t translate really doesn’t sit well with me... but I still think that what I did for those parts came close to what I remember from the games...

gotta say though: I really dislike the word 「隊士」. In both Chinese and Japanese... and that, as a translator, i really don’t like how the Gregorian calendar names the months lol. it’s just so much easier to just leave the date as what it says based on the old Japanese calendar... with the era name and month number. let’s me not worry about doing research to ensure the accuracy of things (i require that all of my videos be precise when it comes to dates)...

also, i wish it’d snow everyday for a week. id get motivated enough to finish a chapter with that.... tho it’d need to be a heavy snowfall so it’s very visible. lol. maintaining my motivation on one thing for a long period of time just doesn't come easy to me... especially when it’s something that has +4000 words in it.

#Hakuoki #Hakuouki #Saito Hajime #Hakuoki Ginsei no Shou Translation #Hakuoki Game Translation #Yukimura Chizuru #hakuoki shinkai

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snicketstrange · 3 years

Text

Rereading The End Chapter 11

TE Chapter 11 - In chapter 11 the schism takes place. Apparently it's something really violent and worrisome. If there were weapons in the hands of some, it is possible that there would have been deaths. Interestingly, this schism only proves that even Ish's attempts to keep the peace on the island didn't work. Even if the Baudelaires had not reached the island, the schism would have taken place. The End has proven to be one of the few ASOUE books in which the plot advances independently of the Baudelaires' presence. And this is increasingly reinforced in the speeches of the characters and Lemony, who claim that the story of the Baudelaires is not the only story in the world. In TE they are more witnesses to the events. This is a counterpoint to their performance in TPP. In TPP their presence and decisions affected the fate of many people who were in the hotel. But on the island, they're just castaways who are less willing to change than many of the characters who were already there. This time the cause of the schism is the question of whether it is worth sacrificing the fun that a non-peaceful life brings or not. Of course you could just talk about it, but it's hard to convince people of anything. This is even a religious issue. Erewhon came from a peaceful island, and ended up on another peaceful island. He wanted to venture out into the world, and take risks and have the fun of a free life as a reward. On the other hand, Alonso came had a troubled life involved in politics, and all he wanted was a quiet life. Is it worth leaving the peace promoted by a rigid religious community and venturing far away? It is interesting that the solution to the problem was well ahead of everyone: those who wanted a life full of adventure and problems should have the courage to venture out to sea and leave the island. But the real problem is that these people didn't want to leave the island. They wanted to stay on the island and make the island a place full of dangerous adventures, and drive out those who defended the distance from the dangers of the world. War was practically inevitable, as it was not just an ideological issue... It became a territorial issue: who would be able to stay on the island and establish their way of thinking there? Daniel Handler exemplifies here how civil wars start. I found it interesting that Friday is the most confusing... She says that all she wanted was a simple life with her father and mother together. She doesn't think that learning to read is making life difficult. Suddenly, the schism that seemed to have only two sides starts to fragment, each one screaming that they prefer something different. We can assume that the VFD schisms ended up generating several fragmentations, taking as an example what happened on the island. It is interesting that only Olaf calls Ishmael Ish. But let's talk about Olaf's monologue, which is just as intriguing as Ish's monologue. I will summarize the important parts of the monologue here: - Oh, Ish, I told you many years ago that I would triumph over you someday, and at last that day has arrived. My (female) associate with the weekday for a name (Monday) told me that you were still hiding out on this island. She (Monday) was trying to blackmail an old man who was involved in a political scandal. Well... that's the only part that really matters in Olaf's monologue. And the fact that Poe was once an actor. So... Who is Monday? She is a woman, who was an associate of Olaf. She knew Ish was on the island, which makes us assume she was someone who was on the island at the same time as Ish. She left the island or at the time Beatrice and Bertrand left there, making her a former supporter of Beatrice and Bertrand or she left the island at the time Thursday left the island. Another important piece of information is that Olaf swore he would triumph over Ish. This shows that Ish ended up becoming an important leader of one of the VFD factions. Olaf wanted to triumph over Ish, certainly he wanted to defeat the ideology espoused by Ish. Another important detail we have here is that, unlike the Netflix series, in which Olaf frees himself from his prison, in the book TE Olaf is released by some who believed he had enough power to dethrone Ish. This attitude certainly reflects what had happened years earlier, when one of the VFD factions decided to enlist Olaf's help in destroying the deadly MM fungus. No longer part of Olaf's monologue, but rather a dialogue in which Olaf explains the differences between him and Ish, we have a very important phrase for us to understand the VFD schism: "If you were to wash the clay off Ishmael's feet, you'd see he has the same tattoo as I do... The difference is that Ishmael is unarmed. He abandoned his weapons long ago, during the V.F.D. schism, refusing to use violence of any sort." Olaf speaks here about The VFD Schism. The use of the definite article only makes me conclude that it refers to the Great Schism. Ish is old enough to have been a part of VFD since before the Great Schism. He also has the tattoo, indicating that he had been part of the organization since before this event that took place in Kit and Dewey's childhood. Hence we have the conclusion that Ish was part of the side that refused guns of any kind. This underscores the nature of the Great Schism of VFD: one side advocated violence as a mechanism to bring peace, after all for them fire must be fought with fire. The other side, which Ish supported, argued that the world should be quiet, and refused to use violence of any kind. In ATWQ and in some parts of TBL we find texts that reflect the way of thinking of the pacifist side of VFD. And we also know that Olaf stayed on the pacifist side of VFD along with Lemony and Beatrice for a few years. But eventually Olaf became an outspoken villain, meaning Oalf stopped trying to help the world. His violent methods are not motivated by an attempt to fight fire with fire. He's greedy, and that's evident here when he wants to become king of the island. Lemony soon realized that fire sometimes needed to be fought with fire when he killed Hangfire. Kit, Beatrice and Bertrad, as adults, also surrendered to the ideology that it is sometimes necessary to kill people to bring peace. They didn't become outright villains. They just changed their views. And, after many years, we have witnessed the downfall of the main herald of total pacifism in VFD history: Ish. "Don't be so sure about that," Ishmael said, and raised an object in the air so everyone could see it... Now the weapon was adding another chapter to its secret history, and was pointing right at Count Olaf. "I had Omeros keep this weapon handy," Ishmael said, "instead of tossing it in the arboretum, because I thought you might escape from that cage, Count Olaf, just as I escaped from the cage you put me in when you set fire to my home... I'm going to do what I should have done years ago, Olaf, and slaughter you. I'm going to fire this harpoon gun right into that bulging belly of yours!" I find it interesting that Olaf denies setting fire to Ish's house. For some reason, I believe him. It is not like Olaf to deny having killed someone when his cover is no longer working. Anyway, we already know Ish shot him. And I find it very bizarre that Olaf falls down laughing, as if he has triumphed over Ish. After all, Olaf managed to turn the harbour of peace into someone violent, not only by inducing him to kill him, but also by making him responsible for the deaths of dozens of people. Olaf could have displayed the helmet containing the MM fungus, and made Ish surrender. But that wouldn't have been as complete a victory as making Ish an assassin. Of course, this at the same time induced him to unmask his hypocrisy in front of everyone on the island. Ish showed that she was a hypocrite by guarding a weapon. Ish showed he was a liar by showing that he had no foot problems. Olaf had managed to turn the Baudelaires into arsonists and now managed to turn Ish into an assassin. It is true that there is nothing to indicate that Olaf planned all this unfolding of events. However, as he fell to the ground laughing, he certainly thought about how all this just proved that he had indeed triumphed.

#a series of unfortunate events #asoue #asoue theory #asoue theories #snicketverse #The End #Lemony Snicket

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meta-squash · 3 years

Text

Brick Club 1.5.10 “Outcome Of The Success”

It’s long, I’m sorry. There’s just so much in this chapter!

The chapter’s first paragraph is a description of the misery of winter weather, bookended by sentences about Fantine. It’s been nearly a year since she was fired. The bit about winter is a description of Fantine’s descent as well as the weather. Winter brings short days which means less work; Fantine’s position in society means she’s finding less work as well because she is essentially freelancing rather than working for an employer with steady jobs. “No heat, no light, no noon, evening touches morning” is such a good description of the way everything is miserable and just blurs together when you’re trying to just stay alive. All the awful stuff is sharp and dull at the same time. “Winter changes into stone the water of heaven and the heart of man.” Fantine is starting to harden here; we see her become more shameless, tougher.

Fantine wears a cap after cutting her hair “so she was still pretty.” And this disappears so rapidly in this chapter. Her beauty is so important. Fantine is the only character aside from Enjolras who is repeatedly described as beautiful in a way that seems to really matter. (Cosette is also beautiful, but that description is almost entirely through Marius’ POV, rather than from a more general POV with Fantine.) The slow destruction of Fantines beauty--the discarding of her pretty clothes for peasant ones, her frequent tears, the loss of her hair and teeth, the torn and threadbare clothing--mirrors her social destruction. She desperately clings to her beauty by wearing a cap, but she obviously gives up pretty soon.

What fascinates me here is that Hugo mentions that Fantine admired Madeleine, like everyone else, but he also implies that she didn’t hate him straight away for her dismissal. In the previous chapters, her reaction is to accept the dismissal as a “just” decision. She works up her hatred by repeatedly telling herself it was his fault. It seems as though she lands on the right conclusion in the wrong way. She blames herself first, and only through gradually convincing herself does she start to blame Madeleine. He and his crap system are the ones to blame, but she comes to that conclusion in a roundabout way that feels like she still blames herself but is trying not to. Fantine has been a scapegoat for everyone up until now; Madeleine has become her scapegoat to avoid (incorrectly) blaming herself.

“If she passed the factory when the workers were at the door, she would force herself to laugh and sing.” She’s trying so hard to make them think they haven’t gotten to her, but it just makes it so much more obvious. The laughter and singing is the “wrong” reaction, and it makes everyone notice her even more, and judge her even harder. It’s just so sad because I can understand that behavior of trying so hard to act the opposite way of how you think people will expect you to, only it backfires and makes your true feelings all the more apparent, which gives even more fuel to the cruel people.

Fantine takes a lover out of spite, “a man she did not love.” There are a few things here that contrast with the grisettes of 1.3. This lover is someone Fantine does not love, her first relationship since losing Tholomyes, who she was in love with. The man is also a street musician, which reminds me of Favourite’s actor/choir boy. The difference being that Favourite’s boy had at least some connections through his father, and Fantine’s lover is only a street musician. Fantine takes this lover in for the same reason that she sings and laughs outside the factory: to try and show that she’s unaffected, which really only serves to do the opposite. She has this affair “with rage in her heart,” which seems to be the only emotion left for her for anyone besides Cosette (and maybe Marguerite).

“She worshiped Cosette.” My only comment here is that this is something that Valjean will later echo. Both worship and adore Cosette as a point of light, something to cling to and love and care for.

Okay maybe I’m missing something here, but Fantine can read but she can’t write? This is probably my “been good at reading/writing my whole life” privilege talking, but wouldn’t she be able to write if she could read? I suppose maybe it’s like how I can look at numbers and understand the numbers but I can’t do math for shit? I don’t know. That just caught my eye.

Fantine is starting to lose her inhibitions as she begins to lose control of everything in her life. She’s laughing and singing and running and jumping around outside in public, she’s acting loud and brash and odd. Her reactions to her misfortune and the terrible things that keep happening express the “wrong” emotion. It’s an attempt to cope, and a courageous one, but it’s drastically different from the quiet Fantine who barely spoke that we were introduced to.

“Two Napoleons!” grumbled a toothless old hag who stood by. “She’s the lucky one!”

This line really struck me. We’ve been tunnel-visioned on Fantine’s misery this whole time. Suddenly the focus pulls back a little bit and we get a little bit of perspective. Fantine is not at rock bottom yet. She could still go so much lower. To this toothless old woman, she’s lucky because she’s pretty and because her teeth have worth. Fantine is poor, and cold, and worried about her kid, and most of the town laugh at or scorn her, and yet this old woman still thinks she’s the lucky one of the two of them. It’s a much more subtle commentary on the levels of poverty and abjectness that exist. Once you’ve fallen through the cracks in society to the level of homelessness, to the level of selling your teeth and hair and body, to complete aloneness, anyone who has even a scrap more than you seems “lucky.” And Fantine’s not too far from that existence.

The conversation between Marguerite and Fantine about military fever is so weird. Is Marguerite just saying stuff? This dialogue sounds like a conversation between two people who have no idea what they’re talking about. It’s like those scenes in comedies where one person pretends to be super confident about something to impress the other even though both of them are completely wrong. Oh okay wait! I just did some googling and I’ve realized that neither of them know what they’re talking about because Thenardier did his bad spelling thing! “Miliary fever” is an old medical term for an infection that causes fevers and bumpy skin rashes. (Mozart’s death is attributed to it; it seems to have fallen out of use as it became easier to pinpoint certain illnesses.) I think this isn’t just Marguerite not knowing what she’s talking about. This is a misunderstanding due to Thenardier’s misspelling (whether deliberate or not, I don’t know) and neither Marguerite nor Fantine know enough to realize it.

ETA: Okay wow I’m keeping that whole “miliary fever” thought journey in just to record my thought process but I’ve just double-checked against the Hapgood translation and the original French, and the mistake isn’t with the Thenardiers at all! It’s entirely the fault of the translators. The original French says “miliare” and Hapgood has translated it as “miliary”; Fahnestock and MacAfee clearly did not notice that the French was “miliare” and not “militaire,” and neither did their editors.

“During the night Fantine had grown ten years older.” Off the top of my head, I can only think of three instances of not-old people being blatantly described as looking old. This description here, Valjean when he returns from Arras, and Eponine. There are probably more I’m missing, but the connecting factor between these three is severe, prolonged trauma. Trauma and a difficult life can prematurely age people (I always think of that Dorothea Lange photo of the migrant mother who was only 32 but looks 50) and Hugo uses this fact to bolster his descriptions of what they go through. But Fantine and Valjean both age almost suddenly; Eponine is already old-looking the first time we meet her as a character with dialogue. Fantine’s sudden aging is another level of departure from her old life. In Paris, she was the youngest of the group, and now she looks far older than she is.

“Actually, the Thenardiers had lied to get her to get the money. Cosette was not sick at all.” As readers, we know this. We’ve seen the Thenardiers lie over and over and we see Fantine sacrifice with no idea. But this one hits harder than the others. Partly, I think, because Hugo puts it so bluntly in a sentence that has its own paragraph. But also because this is the first sacrifice that is truly unalterable. Fantine’s hair can grow back. There may have eventually been some slim chance of a job opportunity or something coming up somehow, or an influx of things needing mending or something. But she cannot regain her teeth. This is also the first sacrifice that physically disfigures her in a visible way. She can hide her lack of hair under a cap, she can hide her lack of money by using and reusing things. She cannot hide her missing teeth.

It’s interesting that we do not hear about Mme Victurnien here. Rather than the last chapter, this would be the one where Victurnien would be “winning.” The consequences of Victurnien’s actions have now permanently affected Fantine’s life. Except I think the reason we don’t see her here is that she wouldn’t face it. She can look out her window at Fantine walking down the street in distress with her beauty intact and feel satisfaction, but if she saw Fantine walking down the street, toothless and hairless, I don’t think she would feel satisfaction, because she wouldn’t be able to connect her actions to this Fantine. Feeling satisfaction towards this level of misery would require acknowledging her participation in causing it. It’s one thing for the townspeople to laugh at or gawk at her, but I think claiming responsibility for her condition is something else altogether that I’m not sure Mme Victurnien would do.

Fantine throwing her mirror out the window is a strange sort of contrast compared to Eponine’s reaction to a mirror. Fantine cannot face her descent. Eponine is already there, and her excitement at Marius’ mirror is a weird sort of distracted examination of herself. Fantine cannot bear to examine herself because unlike Eponine, she can remember what it was like before this. Tossing away the mirror is tossing away the thoughts of her past life and her past self; she can’t ever go back to that.

“The poor cannot go to the far end of their rooms or to the far end of their lives, except by continually bending more and more.”

God I don’t really even know what to say about this line except ouch. It’s just so poignant and intense. The older you get the harder it is to survive, to get up with each new stumble. And we can also take into account things like the cholera epidemic that will occur a few years later in the book, which mostly affected the poor. There’s so little access to any sort of help or assistance. And clearly Valjean’s few little systems of aid aren’t good enough. He may have set up a worker’s infirmary and a place for children or old workmen, but there doesn’t seem to be assistance for single, unsupported women, or the homeless and unemployed. They’re left to bend more and more under the weight of life.

“Her little rose bush dried up in the corner, forgotten.” I can’t help but read this as a parallel to the Thenardier’s treatment of Cosette. As Fantine falls apart and falls behind on her payments, Cosette is growing up which means the abuse from the Thenardiers has probably increased. It also feels like a weird sort of throwback to the spring/summertime imagery of beauty and chasteness and modesty from back in 1.3, which has now completely disappeared and dried up as Fantine loses her beauty, her modesty, and her coquetry.

I love the little detail about Fantine’s butter bell full of water and the frozen ice marks. It’s such a small detail but so evocative. It also feels like a metaphor for each of Fantine’s new hardships. Every time the butter pot freezes over, it leaves a ring of ice for a long time; each time Fantine encounters a new trauma, she hardens and becomes tougher. She keeps her dried up, long gone modesty and youth in one corner and the suffering that has hardened her in the other. On a side note, I’m wondering if there is actually butter in her butter bell or if she’s now using it only for water? I would imagine water only; butter seems like something that might be expensive. Also, would the building she’s living in have had indoor plumbing, or would she have gotten water from a well or a pump somewhere? My plumbing history knowledge is lacking.

Hugo describes Fantine’s torn and badly mended clothes. At this point she’s working as a seamstress, which means she’s at least proficient in the skills needed to sew and/or mend clothes in such a way that they stay together. This means that the repairs done for herself are likely careless and messy. I think this is partly an indication of how little time she has for herself--if she’s sewing for work for 17 hours a day, she has very little time to mend her own stuff, and definitely can’t afford better quality material--and partly an indication of the ways in which she is falling apart. She doesn’t bother mending her things properly, she goes out in dirty clothes. She doesn’t mend her stockings, she just stuffs them further down in her shoes. It seems she has only one or perhaps no good petticoats, which means she’s probably walking around in just a shift and a dress. Not only is her stuff threadbare and falling apart, she’s also probably freezing due to the lack of layers.

“A constant pain in her shoulder near the top of her left shoulder blade.” This makes me wonder if Fantine’s left-handed. If she’s sewing by hand, by candlelight, in a shitty rush chair, for seventeen hours a day, that is absolute murder on the back/shoulders/neck. Whenever I do hand-sewing I’m usually sat on the floor or my bed, and my back and upper shoulders tend to get sore if I get in the zone and I’m bent over the work for a long time. I don’t know about French dressmakers, but I know around that time the English were really big on very small, neat, almost invisible stitches. Which would hurt to do for seventeen hours a day by candlelight.

“She hated Father Madeleine profoundly, and she never complained.” The Hapgood translation of this line is better, I think. Still, I think it’s important that it’s pointed out that she never voices her opinions or her complaints. It’s only when Madeleine is in front of her that she announces them at all (despite not speaking directly to him then, either). She hates Valjean, she blames him, and yet obviously some part of her still thinks that she deserves it, or that her dismissal was right.

“She sewed seventeen hours a day, but a contractor who was using prison labor suddenly cut the price, and this reduced the day’s wages of free-laborers to nine sous.” Reading this book is always a lot because aside from the still-relevant general overarching commentary about society and poverty and mutual aid and goodness and all that, there are so many smaller details that are so painfully, strangely relevant to the present day. Even today there’s fear that employers will come up with a new policy or a new labor shortcut that means less income. Employers who pay their employees less because the workers get tipped, or outsourcing that causes layoffs. Prison labor, too (and behind that, the fact that prison labor doesn’t guarantee a job in a similar field after release if desired).

In the next two chapters, we jump ahead somewhere between a few weeks to a couple months. What happened to Marguerite in the interim? Hugo describes her as a “pious woman [...] of genuine devotion,” but I have this sad thought that maybe when Fantine made the decision to become a sex worker, Marguerite may have turned her back on her as well. As we’ve seen with Valjean, being poor but modest is Good, and being poor and desperate enough to do something improper and “immoral” is Bad. Despite Marguerite’s canonical generosity towards the poor, I wouldn’t be surprised if Fantine’s decision overstepped some moral boundaries of hers.

“But where is there a way to earn a hundred sous a day?” I’m a little stuck on this. Would she make this much money? I’m basing the following information off of Luc Sante’s The Other Paris, so the monetary info might be slightly different a for non-Parisian area. According to Sante, someone like Fantine, a poor woman working without a pimp or madame and not in a legal brothel, would basically be working for pocket change. 100 sous would equal about 5 francs. If her earnings are basically pocket change, I don’t think she’d make 5 francs a day. Just considering the fact that a loaf of bread might cost about 15 sous, which seems like pocket change, or even slightly more than pocket change. Fantine probably becomes a sex worker and finds herself in the exact same position that she was in before, not making any more money than she would have if she had continued to be a seamstress.

#les miserables #les miserables meta #brickclub #lm 1.5.10 #les mis #les mis meta

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 264: You Either Die a Hero...

Previously on BnHA: The kids of 1-A sat around waiting for something exciting to happen, and then it did happen, and they were all “!!” Over on the front lines, the heroes charged the Ol’ Villain Hotel with poor Kaminari crying the entire time, but we’ll excuse him since he is only in the second grade. Tokoyami gave him some gentle encouragement by reminding him of how hard he can slappa da bass, while Midnight told him to think of his one true love in order to find his inner courage, so he immediately thought of Jirou and everyone was like WHOA DID THEY REALLY JUST, and yeah, they kind of did? Anyway so Cementoss ripped the building open and Kaminari got all Thor on us and started battling this other electric guy, and then we cut to Hawks and Twice, who were having a friendly conversation similar to the friendly conversation Hawks had with Best Jeanist on the very same day that Jeanist abruptly went missing and was never heard from again! Hey, wait a second. You guys don’t suppose...??

Today on BnHA: Re-Destro gathers in the basement with all his followers and they’re all like “Re-Destro!!” and he’s all “what??” and they’re all “the heroes are attacking!!” and he’s all “:) :) :) the fuck??!” Outside, the heroes continue to wreak havoc, and between Edgeshot, Midnight, Honenuki and Toadette, I’m pretty sure they have actually killed some of these guys. But that’s silly though because heroes would never actually kill someone. Speaking of heroes not killing someone, back in the hotel, Hawks is all “(Ò‸Ó)” and Twice is all “(இ‸இ)” and then Hawks is all “I’m gonna arrest you but I’ll help you get through this and get back on your feet again afterwards because you’re a good person” and Twice is all “WHAT THE FUCK NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN” and does the whole Sad Man Parade thing. And Hawks is all “I don’t want to fight you!” and Twice is all “TOO BAD” and meanwhile Dabi is running up the stairs all “time to start some shit” and then the chapter ends. So while I’m relieved on behalf of Hawks’s soul, I can’t help but be a little concerned on behalf of his, uh, life. Shit.

okay, so! I finally have time to read this damn thing. but before I start, a couple of holdover thoughts from the prior chapter!

firstly, I want to go on the record now and say that I’ve decided once again that Hawks, in spite of all appearances, is not a murderer. you hear that Hawks. I’m putting my neck on the line for you. gonna look like a real stooge if you go and murder Twice before going on to fight Dabi to the death while we cut to Noumu!Jeanist taunting Bakugou

but in all seriousness, I just can’t reconcile it with what we know of Hawks’s character. his behavior during the fight against Hood almost got him exposed because he couldn’t bear to let anyone get hurt or to let Endeavor get killed. I know the HPSC got their claws in him at a young age, but in spite of that I don’t think he’s harboring a dark side. to me he always just comes off as tired and struggling to do the right thing even though he never asked to be put into this kind of position. he’s smart enough to understand the whole “needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few” thing, but he’s also young enough to still hold to a certain idealism, and juuust cocky enough to have faith in his own cleverness and convince himself that he can somehow achieve this mission without sacrificing anyone else’s life

so in short, I don’t buy the dark!Hawks theories. I just can’t. but I guess we’re about to see! and my guess is that Horikoshi will probably have Dabi interrupt before Hawks can reveal his hand either way, because Horikoshi is just like that. what a troll

(ETA: I forgot that sometimes Horikoshi also likes to troll by giving you exactly what you want but in the most painful way possible. shit.)

now, moving on, the other thing I wanted to quickly address is Viz’s translation of this very important line from last week! so as a reminder, here is readheroaca’s version

and here is Caleb’s

I’m actually really glad I’ve been reading the fan translations first, because it made me more aware of the potential nuances in this scene. so is KamiJirou actually being confirmed here, or not?? and I spent 20 whole minutes digging into this more the other day because I have no life, so here are my findings!

first, here is the actual Japanese panel

and while I don’t speak Japanese, I can read hiragana well enough that I was able to plug it into a couple of translators to basically figure out what was being said. so here’s the full dialogue:

どこかの誰かじゃ

難しいなら --

今一番大事なものを

心に据えな

so the part in bold there is the line in question -- 大事なもの (daijina mono). “daiji” means “precious” or “important”, but the thing is, “mono” for whatever reason is written in hiragana and not kanji. and the word mono (which can be singular or plural btw) can hilariously mean either of the following depending on the kanji used:

lmao. so basically the bottom line is that from what I can see here, Horikoshi purposely didn’t specify! now I could be completely wrong; maybe this is a common enough expression that Caleb felt comfortable deciding that he meant “person.” or maybe he just guessed based on the context. or maybe he just said “fuck it, you only live once” and just went there because why the heck not

anyway, so that was fun, and for me it reinforced the fact that I really do prefer to have at least two different translations to compare in order to get the most complete picture of what exactly is going on here in this stupid manga that I obsess over week after week! so now let’s finally get to reading this thing

oh my

I have so many thoughts whirling around in my head right now, such as “oh my god look at all these secret entrances/exits the villains apparently had” and “wow the heroes are so thorough” and such, but ngl, right now the biggest one is “why are they all entering so slowly??” seriously though. let’s just gradually meander on in single-file. no rush. meanwhile 800m northwest and 1 km east, Cementoss is literally tearing the building in half and the other heroes are charging full speed all “ARGGHHHHH.” and over in Jakku, Miruko kicked a door open so hard it killed a guy. but we’ve all got our own styles I guess??

at least this one guy 800m north of the hideout is doing some doorbusting. sheesh. be more exciting please

oh hey it’s this place

behold. the great realm and dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf. well there’s an eye-opener and no mistake

LMAO THESE GUYS DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING YET OMG

oh my god. first of all wtf is that shirt. and second of all oh my fucking god, let me just shut up and read this is amazing

SDKLFJLSJK

LMAO

oh man. Re-Destro is one of the few characters whom I really want to see die. come on Horikoshi. don’t be a fucking coward. he’s had it coming ever since he killed that little mouse. and let’s not forget Giran. JUSTICE FOR GIRAN

oh we’re actually cutting back to this fight!

I wasn’t sure if we would! shounen authors have this habit of showing the start of a really cool battle only to then cut away to a bunch of other stuff and leave us hanging for a dozen chapters, so yeah. of course, that may still happen. I’m just lucky that I’m invested in virtually every single thing that’s going on right now, so it’s a win-win for me no matter where we cut to next

(ETA: lmao there really wasn’t much more to this fight to speak of. but what do you want to bet Horikoshi will try to pull this shit with Dabi and Hawks next week though.)

holy shit

this looks like when I attempt to build a gingerbread house. that’s uncanny

lmao Kami

YOU’RE DOING GREAT BUDDY. KEEP IT UP CHAMP

(ETA: Kaminari’s ridiculous smiling face is the balm we all need in these troubled times. tempted to ask him if he wouldn’t mind heading up to that telenovela happening over in Twice’s room and telling them all to lighten the fuck up.)

Lefty is all “does he have an absorption quirk?” because apparently he’s one of the two people that never watched the U.A. Sports Festival? how does anyone in this day and age manage to come across one of the 1-A kids and not know what their quirks are. and you’re a fucking general or whatever too, aren’t you? god you suck

so now he’s all “I BET YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO HANDLE... A FEW MILLION VOLTS” jesus christ. I bet you he can! but still, that’s awfully murdery of you. and to think, he’s on your side!! Kaminari are you really sure you want these guys as your friends

YOOOOOOO FUCKING KAKASHI ALL UP IN HERE DOING HIS HUMAN YONDU ARROW THING WHAAAAT

straight up prepared to be massively disappointed in Viz when they inevitably translate the “Ninpo” part instead of leaving it alone and letting everyone bask in these sentimental Naruto vibes. and also ngl I prefer for Edge’s lines to be as close to the original as possible so I can better imagine them in my head. stupid sexy Edgeshot

holy shit “I’ve pierced a small hole in each of your lungs” !!? WELL ALL RIGHT THEN, YOU SADISTIC WARRIOR OF THE NIGHT. YOU HEARD HIM BOYS. I’M SORRY, BUT HE’S ALL OUT OF FUCKS TODAY

OH HEY Y’ALL, MIDNIGHT HEARD YOU WERE KICKING ASS AND DECIDED TO JOIN IN, HOPE THAT’S ALL RIGHT

and if it’s not all right, well. tough

can you imagine. you’re just a simple villain, chilling out in your Hilton Garden Inn HQ and minding your own business when all of a sudden the walls come to life and some fucking shinobu busts a small hole in your lungs, and then you just fall asleep. sometimes life comes at you hard

now Kamui Woods is doing his whole Lacquered Chain Prison thing, but we’ve already seen that one so I’m not gonna bother showing it! tough break Kamui!!

OH MY GOD IS THIS WHAT I THINK IT IS

HALF OF THESE PEOPLE ARE ALREADY UNCONSCIOUS WITH HOLES IN THEIR LUNGS, SO SURE, HONENUKI, LET’S GO AHEAD AND FUCKING DROWN THEM TOO LMAO

LOOOOOOL OH CHRIST

CLASS 1-B WITH NO REGARD FOR HUMAN LIFE!!!

LMAO AND NOW SHE’S STANDING WITH HER ARMS UP OVER HER HEAD ALL SMILING LIKE ERI AT THE FUCKING CONCERT. A COLD GOD IN AN UNCARING UNIVERSE. WHAT THE FUCK

oh shit everybody shut up we’re cutting back to Hawks!!

but you pulled it off because you’re so damn smart. so now let’s stand around and explain your plan to everyone. what the fuck, Hawks

(ETA: and the thing is, now I’m thinking that by “incredibly difficult” he doesn’t mean that it was the cipher part that was difficult lol. that part was child’s play. any simpleton could do that. no, the difficult part was betraying his new friend. anyway so how’s everyone doing? what a fun chapter!!)

hey everyone I still have unwavering faith that this man is not a killer just FYI

what does that say about me I wonder. let’s just completely ignore everything being presented on screen here. also what the heck happened to all this furniture? did he upend the entire room with his crazy feather attack, or is that damage from Cementoss’s shenanigans?

HAHA!! FUCK YEAH

I KNEW YOU WEREN’T A KILLER YOU STUPID ASSHOLE!!

fuck yeah. of course, I realize that by betraying Twice so harshly like this, Hawks has still found himself on lots of people’s shitlists. but I would just like to put out a friendly reminder that Twice, despite being the nicest and most loyal guy you will ever meet, is still a terrorist who was going to kill a lot of people because he’s friends with a guy who wants to destroy the entire world. so basically there’s just no clean way out of this and it’s all very tragic

but anyway if it’s any consolation, I fully expect Dabi to turn up in the very next panel and be all “BLARGH! IT’S ME!” before we commence with the single sexiest battle in this manga to date

lmao Horikoshi. “but before we get to the sexy battle let me just twist that knife up in there real good!” jesus

friendly reminder that despite all appearances, Hawks is still objectively the good guy in this scenario. anyways for real, how are we all doing this afternoon. how many death threats has my bird son gotten today. I’m afraid to check. poor Twice is so trusting and I really hate to see him cry like this, poor baby. but I’m sure it’s also tearing Hawks up inside as well but we’re just not seeing it

and here we have Hawks, about to unleash his Mangekyou Sharingan

“are you sure you don’t think this sinister maniac looming in the shadows with the deranged look in his eyes is a ruthless killer, makeste?? are you really sure?” Horikoshi asks while pouring every last inch of malice he can into a single chilling panel

and yes, you bastard. I am sure. fuck you, how long are you going to make me sit here looking like a complete ass. look, we get it!! either way, Hawks is clearly a compelling actor! but the question is, which one is really the false face? is it the smiling, easygoing Hawks who always seems to have a faint hint of sadness in his eyes? or is it this menacing figure stripped of all mercy? is it really so crazy to go ahead and say that it’s the latter? huh?? [pokes Horikoshi in the chest] huh?????

anyway so Twice seems to slowly be progressing his way from despair to anger, which is probably not good. heh. fuck

maybe I was wrong about Dabi showing up and saving Twice, maybe his arrival will actually save Hawks instead lmao

anyway Hawks is still being all cold and creepy, and he’s all “you have my thanks.” and Twice is still crying, so maybe he’s still more sad than angry. well this is starting to drag out now though so if a certain spicy flame boi wants to make his grand entrance now, he’s welcome to do so anytime

oh shit Hawks is throwing me a bone!!! yessssss

YOU SEE!! THE SAD LOOK. HE DOESN’T WANT TO DO THIS. HE’S A GOOD BOY. oh my god I just realized how tense I was. hahaha what is this chapter

FINALLY OMG

NOOOOO I THOUGHT IT WAS DABI SNEAKING UP BEHIND HIM. OH MY GOD I CAN’T. WAS THIS HORROR MOVIE SERIAL KILLER ANGLE REALLY NECESSARY THEN, HORIKOSHI. WHAT THE FUCK

TWICE SHUT UP YOU ARE DIGGING YOUR OWN GRAVE!!!

fuck!!! this is why I was so sure he was going to die! because he won’t go quietly; he’s not the type to ever betray his friends. to him the League are basically the only family he’s ever known, so of course he’s not going to just be all “okay sure I’ll go to prison and let you reform me”

so then what, Hawks?? you didn’t fucking think this through you stupid kind-hearted punk!

sob!!!!

is that one of Hawks’s feathers slicing open the mask. sing it with me guys. to the tune of Jingle Bells: fuck fuck fuck, fuck fuck fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuuck

OH MY GOD NOOOOO

I WEIRDLY WANT TO COVER MY EYES LOL OH GOD. I DON’T WANT THIS BUT I CAN’T LOOK AWAY HELPPPPP

FUCK ME, IT’S REALLY HAPPENING. HE COULDN’T BRING HIMSELF TO KILL HIM AND NOW HE’S SCREWED HIMSELF AND EVERYONE ELSE OVER, FUCK

FOR FUCK’S SAKE HAWKS YOU COULD HAVE JUST KNOCKED HIM OUT THEN!! YOU JUST HAD TO GO AND FUCKING TRY TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF. DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED IN DEIKA CITY, HAWKS. DO WE REALLY WANT A REPEAT OF THAT. SURE, WE’VE GOT CLASS 1-B OUT IN THE BACKYARD MORE THAN READY AND WILLING TO KILL ANY NUMBER OF BITCHES BECAUSE THAT’S HOW THEY DO, BUT STILL

oh shit!?!

lol excuse me are you really just going to end it there? fucking seriously. Dabi running up the stairs with the crazy eyes while Hawks regretfully thinks of himself and his side as “hero scum”?? fff

and that last part! holy shit! again, I don’t buy into any of the dark!Hawks theories, and that includes the theory that Hawks will turn on the heroes and end up siding with the villains (because, again, it has nothing to do with him liking the villains, or secretly resenting the HPSC; it’s strictly on account of the whole “the villains want to destroy the entire world” thing. like. unless you think Hawks is cool with all of that of course). so I have to admit this was very startling for me to read

but I do think this is probably just some of the inevitable self-loathing finally spilling over after being forced to play this role and do all these things for the sake of the greater good, rather than him hinting at a desire to turn against the so-called “hero scum.” but still, that’s probably as dark as we’re gonna get from him, and ngl, it’s some heavy stuff

goddammit. feel like we need to cut to some wholesome class 1-A antics or something after all of that. as always, angst is a double-edged sword that I always anticipate and love but am also destroyed by sigh

#bnha 264 #hawks #twice (bnha)#kaminari denki #re-destro #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste spoiler recap #makeste reads bnha #at least next week the anime will finally get to the concert!#I can't wait omg #exactly the type of wholesome antics I was referring to #the manga is so tense right now holy crap #got a feeling we're gonna need this

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stephrodca-blog · 4 years

Text

Portrait of a Lady on Fire interview with director and leading actresses, hosted by Patrick Fabre on Radio des Rues at the 2019 Angoulême Francophone Film Festival. Translation into English.

Patrick Fabre: PF

Céline Sciamma: CS

Adèle Haenel: AH

Noémie Merlant: NM

Translated by Steph RodCa

PF: We are here on the radio of the festival, and I‘m really intimidated, which doesn't happen very often, because I am with the director and the leading actresses of a film that has left me speechless, overwhelmed, thrilled. The only thing that I could think of when i saw it was: This is a masterpiece. I'm talking about Celine Sciamma's Portrait of a Lady on Fire. I'm joined by Celine Sciamma, Adèle Haenel, and Noémie Merlant. I am really happy to have you here. How are you?

CS, AH, NM: Pretty good, thank you.

PF: Was it a difficult night? Did the film screening start a little bit late? Or did everything turn out well?

CS: I think everything turned out well.

PF: Yeah, i've been told that. Spectators said that.

CS: I believe them

PF: I'm happy for you. Is this your first time at the festival?

CS: It is my second one

PF: The first time you presented…

CS: Girlhood

PF: The film was in competition, right?

CS: No, I don’t think so

PF: What is your opinion of the Angoulême Francophone Film Festival? Because everybody says is a key-event, is a must-go, you were at the Cannes Film Festival where things went well for you, so do you agree that this is a key-step?

CS: Well, it’s a key-step because we are in front of another kind of audience, a sort of “real audience”, even if I don’t know quite well what a real audience means

PF: An audience barely composed of professionals, that’s the rumors… Adèle is not completely sure of that definition

AH: I have nothing to say on that matter. Indeed, i think it is amazing there is an audience that is less related to the film industry. It’s the townspeople who come, so it’s amazing.

PF: Exactly. So, is it important to have this feedback?

CS: Of course, on the road to film release we get closer and closer to real audience so we are happy to be closer and closer to them.

PF: Both of you Adèle and Noémie, do you think likewise? Is it important to meet the audience, to have this feedback?

AH: Yes, it’s very important. It is a part of our job that may seem laborious sometimes but in fact it’s extremely important because we make films in the hope of communicating ideas, for the love of beauty, for the love of art. And this is not a one-way process, we are not the only ones who go and meet the audience, the people themselves come and meet us. So let’s say it’s the second heart of our job.

PF: What about you Noémie? Because you have already been to the festival as well. I remember that I hosted a screening of Heaven will wait, you were very moved. So, do you agree that it is important to meet the audience, to discover the film with them?

NM: Well, yeah, it is extremely important. I think we all make films to share something, a work, an experience. And yeah, I clearly remember what it’s like to meet them, to share the end of a film, to see their questions, their reactions, or just their strong words, it’s very significant.

PF: So, in the film Noémie is a young painter, Marianne, who is commissioned to make Héloïse’s portrait in order to send it to her future husband in Milan. Héloïse is played by Adèle Haenel. The story is set in 1770. It was you, Céline Sciamma, who wrote the screenplay. You were awarded the Best Screenplay at the 2019 Cannes Film Festival. You went from a girlhood to another girlhood just some centuries earlier, and yet the film is extremely modern. How do you get to make a modern period film? Was that your intention?

CS: Yes, I wanted to make the subject as contemporary as possible, each one of my films has been ruled by this intention. So the time period may be ancient but the subject itself is contemporary. It seems to me that it is the same kind of energy that is present in all films, in character incarnation. To me, the significant difference is not so much the time period or even the film genre but rather adulthood, the fact of telling a past love story, and the desire to work with actresses in this business. I think that’s more what I try to do.

PF: Where did this story idea come from?

CS: From my mind. [Laughs]

PF: Which is apparently a good place

CS: Well, period films are quite particular. In general they are subject to the adaptation of a work or a historical event , which is the starting point. So there was this desire to tell an original story that had not been told yet, so it was rather wise to invent it. Then, there is the pleasure of proposing a completely new fiction, that also makes the film contemporary, by not making comments about the voices of the past, but instead by inventing them. Also, by telling the long continuity of the bodies, the hearts, the desires, even if the contexts are different, at the same time, there is a common ground because it’s a time period where progress seems linear, especially the progress concerning women, but this is not at all the case, the destiny of women and their place in the world are still adjustment variables. It was a time where there was some freedom and many women had a career but then there was a backlash and they were erased. Then, in the nineteenth century, the notion of bourgeoise women was introduced. We are going through a blossoming moment of a certain culture, a feminist counterculture that has shaped the world order, so I think this is an important moment, it’s a great moment to be alive. However,you know, you feel the violence, the backlash. Last night, there was an event around femicide, 94 women have been killed this year (in France), the numbers are increasing, it’s a higher rate compared with the same period last year. I think that constitutes a sort of backlash too.

PF: Definitely. As regards to acting in costume, at the beginning of the film we see Marianne arriving by boat to the island, there is a wooden box that fall off the boat, we don’t know yet what’s on the inside. It looks like it’s super important for your character, Noémie, and you jump into the sea wearing this dress and I was like, no way, she’s going to sink, she’s going to die. [Laughs] In that moment, do you bring out the importance of the costume?

NM: Yeah, totally. We talked about it before

CS: A lot

NM: For days and even weeks

AH: The costume was very stressful

NM: Because I don’t know what the dry weight of the dress is, several kilos ?

CS: It’s heavy

NM: Once wet, go figure! But you can do it, we did it. We also had a woman helping us, diving, but I was in the water, I swam wearing that dress and I did it. I had small buoys on the dress.

PF: For safety reasons. And it’s crazy, there are gestures in this film related to the costume that I’ve never seen before in a period film. For example, getting dressed and undressed, you observe a more practical aspect, you see the cords…

NM: The pockets, yeah.

PF: Adèle, you’re not convinced, you experienced that in a different way, didn’t you? Am i wrong and it’s not as easy as it seems?

AH: No, I mean it has to do more with the social function of people. Since we are talking about someone from nobility, it’s an object par excellence, you could say that. In this case, lacing a corset-back dress, getting dressed yourself becomes impossible. So we cannot say that independence is encouraged.

PF: Of course. But i was thinking of those petticoats

AH: Indeed. But, I don’t know, I’m not an expert on that, but based on the function of women there had to be a relatively high practical level. I think, all in all, servants were able to dress themselves, they didn’t need the help of anyone.

PF: Yesterday, I was telling Céline there is a shot in the film that overwhelms me, it’s a very simple shot, you see these three women in the kitchen. The third woman, it must be said, is played by Luàna Bajrami and she is the young maid. At a certain point, they’re left alone, the fiancée’s mother, played marvelously by Valeria Golino, is gone. You see them in the kitchen, the maid is doing embroidery, this activity is rather reserved for a noble or bourgeois person, someone having this social status, Noémie’s character is in the middle, and yours (Adèle’s) is cooking. So, there is a social role reversal. I found it a magnificent shot, it tells a lot of things without words, without dialogues. How did you come up with this? Was it something that appeared on the set or was it already written?

CS: I think films are made based on pivot scenes, scenes providing us with foundations and courage. Therefore, this image was one of these, it was one of the most precious images in the film. Besides, it’s a sequence-shot where there is a choreography between the three characters, you see Sophie doing embroidery, then there is Marianne who enters and serves a glass of wine, you see, women drink, women smoke, and then there is an aristocrat, Héloïse, cooking. So what’s interesting in this shot is not only the generation of a pleasure for spectators, this carnavalesque pleasure derived from this role reversal, but also a pleasure for the three women. I mean, the aristocrat is not cooking just because the roles have been reversed but because she enjoys it, it’s the jubilation of Adèle’s character and Adèle, she’s a part of the image’s composition, the pleasure, the incarnation, the joy, the opportunity, the meaning of having the opportunity to change places.

PF: Another strong moment is that when Adèle’s character says: “Let’s paint!”. To be represented in a reality becomes really important in this part of the film. What was your experience like in that scene?

AH: I don’t see it very different from the whole film. It’s pretty much what Céline has talked about. There is something political when we go into action but also something extremely joyful. We had essentially the same idea with Céline, we were going in the same direction, in terms of jubilation. To me, this scene is the result of connected minds, it’s not a dominant mind offering its world vision but it’s several minds stimulating each other, several sensitivities in connection and even if they remain single entities they have a decoupled strength.

PF: Group strength?

AH: Friendship strength, i would say.

PF: Is friendship strength what you need to make a good film? To be supported by a team you can trust? How important is to assemble a team before making a film?

CS: Yeah, of course. In this film there is, on the one hand, a great loyalty with my producer, with my mentor, with my music composer, even if music is sparingly used, with Adèle, and on the other hand, there is plenty of novelty, there is Noémie Merlant, cinematographer Claire Mathon. So it’s a mix of friends and meetings, as well as future friends. So I don’t believe friendship is necessary when making a good film, I think the film is similar to the way it was made and the set rules, the atmosphere, the feelings are reflected. Overall, I think if we make a romantic movie it’s okay to love each other.

PF: Noémie, this film surely means a lot to you because you are more in the spotlight, it’s one of the first films where you’re given a leading role, even if in Heaven will wait you had a leading role as well, it was kind of different since there were two parallel stories, it was hyperlink cinema, however in this one there are three characters. Besides, this film was presented at the Cannes Film Festival. Do all theses reasons make it even more meaningful to you? Or, they have nothing to do and it’s the story itself that really matters to you?

NM: Well, it’s a mix of a lot of things, what you said but also meeting the team, meeting Céline, Adèle, was really important to me. The way Céline works. The story also shows a real vision shared intensively by Céline and Adèle. They provided me and they provide me with this vision. So, to me it’s extremely important as an artist, as an actress, and as a woman. I learned and I keep on learning several things thanks to this film, so it is extremely important because of this as well.

PF: I think we can all learn a lot of things thanks to this film and I strongly recommend that you watch it. It will be released on…

CS: September 18

PF: I strongly recommend that you go watch Céline Sciamma’s Portrait of a Lady on Fire on September 18. I’ll definitely go watch it on September 18 because I’m already missing it. Then, maybe I’ll get a “page 28” tattoo. [Laughs]

#portrait of a lady on fire #portrait de la jeune fille en feu #interview #traslation #traduction #french #français #english #anglais #angoulême #francophone #film #festival #céline sciamma #adèle haenel #noémie merlant #patrick fabre #radio des rues

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halfusek · 4 years

Note

1) I have a theory regarding what happens in Abomination. As you had explained, both timelines, both in Real World and Story World were connected until the break in Story World occurs with the death of S!Thomas, but there are some details that I consider important to understand the reason why Magenta did that. You mentioned that that death altered what was going to happen in the future in Story World, what if it happened... But what if S!Joey did it on purpose to avoid the same fate as

Hey ho hello there! Thank you for submitting this theory, it definitely isn’t a nuisance to me, I absolutely love it when people dive so deep into my story and have so many thoughts about it, I’m flattered! :D

And while it’s an interesting theory, I’ll tell you right off the bat that Magenta doesn’t really have that kind of insight to the reader’s mind nor mine. The 4th wall breaks indeed are supposed to be meta but it also was kind of a jab at the real Joey in that moment from him. There is no input from me as a “character” in the story, as Abomination was supposed to be a theory turned into a comic all along I’m only including there events which I have thought to be possible to be canon [with exceptions for a few “OCs” I had to make - random employees to fullfill other roles].

But there is of course a reason why story Joey is aware of, well, being in a story as there is a reason for him to act different than the real Joey! :D

Characters from the real world being now in the story world are more exaggerated, more “cartoony” as in the values that pop out most about them in reality, pop out here to the max. As for the story itself, their reality consist only of things relevant to the story. And finally, there’s this whole thing with the objectives these characters have and how they interpret them.

In a sense they are different characters. Especially those that haven’t died in real life.

But at the same time they are kind of the same person. Especially those that died in real life.

With a few exceptions here and there. :)

And this is where my answer is gonna get long with pictures attached and rambling so I’m gonna put the rest under the cut~

So, you know how there’s the Tombstone Picnic cartoon with it’s missing ending, right? As in - in the canon Bendy universe - when Bendy runs away from a skeleton and there’s a shadowy figure standing over him which he looks up and smiles and the screen goes black.

I’ve referrenced it a few times throughout the comic because it’s really important.

Like this old-ass panel comes from Part 2 and some events happening in it are Joey and Bendy watching the episode with Bendy getting uncomfortable about being imperfect - he looks at what’s supposed to be his arms and legs.

Generally parts 1-4 aren’t my proudest work art-wise nkjdf but there’s some things Very important to my little universe here.

I’d say especially pay attention to panel 101 in this batch.

Then, eons later, there’s part 33 and it’s one that got a few people confused that the comic is ending because this is the title I gave it when posted:

With the last panel of this part like this:

Because, technically, this is where the story of the real studio ends and is a turning point of the comic. So, in a way, it is the end. But not the end of the story.

What I assumed with the world of Bendy was that there are two worlds: the real one and the story one which is more like a cartoon. Not just because the story world looks cartoon, it even acts like one with repeating over and over again and not being able to change what’s been done in it [save for few details].

An ending of a very important cartoon episode is missing and never comes and that’s probably what is on the end reel that Henry plays when he comes around but playing the end doesn’t stop things from repeating, it simply puts an end to the current iteration of the cycle.

Back to the comic’s timeline - the story world is created.

I’m a silly goose, I know. :^)

Story Joey gets created and yeeted into the story world asmr - that’s panels from part 35 and it’s very short and weird. It’s not entirely meant to be taken literally.

It starts from little parallels between story Joey and story Henry - at least for how it is in my universe, they are both looping and starting from reading a letter from each other’s real life counterparts.

In the next part [36] this is what story Joey is looking at when he breaks the 4th wall and this is where the events start changing and he kills Thomas before he quits - generally part 36 is the “equivalent” of part 18 with some repeated panels and some a bit edited and these entirely new from the new timeline. But this is all for laying down the differences betwen real and story Joey off the bat.

You could say that real Joey “would do anything to make his dreams possible” but reastically speaking you’d expect a person to have some kind of brakes, that stop them from doing literally anything. Well, as story Joey is an exaggerated version of real Joey, those brakes kind of get done. He’s dead pan fixated on doing literally anything. And as real Joey on his way of moral decay accepted murder as a solution sometimes, story Joey kind of just doesn’t hesitate.

Another thing about parts 18 and 36 is the mention of Henry.

I haven’t gotten on it quite yet with the story Joey but what I’m gonna say is this: take real Joey’s obsession with blaming Henry for leaving mixed with leftover feelings he has for him and try to... simplyfy them and turn them Up.

Spoilers: it’s a mess.

OKAY BUT GOING BACK TO THE TOMBSTONE PICNIC WHICH IS REALLY WHAT MATTERS IN THIS RAMBLE-

In part 35 I lay down that I chose Joey to be the shadow in Tombstone Picnic.

At the time I took this decision I did it because I figured it just suits my version of the story better but honestly as of now I’m ever more convinced that it’s the case.

Because the reason why it being Henry would be cool is that if he was in a cartoon then he could be imprinted from this part of the reel - as this is apparently what’s needed in universe to print ink figures - so this is how in-game Henry would come to be.

BUT

Now DCTL has confirmed that regular humans can get inked and in BATDR trailers we met Audrey that kinda just looks like a cartoonified person which is very likely what happened to Henry. Also there’s this part in DCTL:

When Buddy Boris wakes up after being turned his Boris - cartoon - part of their mind is awoken. He sees a shadowy figure that seems dysproportional to him implying he sees someone with human-like proportions.

Then Buddy wakes up and he sees... Joey.

To me the parallel is pretty straight-forward tbh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But, of course, I decided for it to be Joey long before DCTL came out so I guess it’s just a cool thing to point out lol

The one thing with how I presented it in part 35 is that Joey wears the labcoat - technically he shouldn’t be wearing it, he should look like Joey usually looked like when the cartoon was made - in 1929. But not gonna lie it makes more sense for the shadowy figure to look like that with the coat included :P

And so story Joey takes away the ending by... literally ripping it away, tearing it from the reel. It’s kinda literal and kinda a metaphor.

The explanation for it is my main point here. Why I brought up that story characters are kinda different from real characters.

Because story Joey IS his own character. He’s been his own character since 1929. He’s literally a print of the cartoon. Right from the Tombstone Picnic reel.

Both he and THE END.

And here’s a little theory/headcanon - I’d like to think that cartoon reels/parts of them used for printing cartoon figures kind of just... get erased from the universe. It would explain why we never get to see that part of the cartoon and why things like that happen in the Handbook:

Ah, a convenient random splash of ink.

So, that’s why story Joey is literally ripping the end away from the cartoon world, because this part is being taken away. Forever.

And what happens with Henry ending the story is that he... imprints the ending itself.

The end is brought to life, and the end = death and welp to me it appears that Henry has the role of the “reaper” as he’s connected to maaaaaaanyyyy death themes, literally called to “be one to bring death” and can get a cool scythe.

Soooo story Joey isn’t just story version of the real Joey, he’s not just Joey 2.0.

He’s the shadowy figure and essentially - a toon.

That was the main thought of this ramble but as I’m on it I’ll throw more stuff linked to this:

In part 41 story Joey visits Bendy for the first time in the story world - real Joey did it right after Thomas tried to quit, but again, story Joey had different priorities.

And. Throwback. Remember part 2? Where Bendy and real Joey watched the Tombstone Picnic? The reason here it’s Tasty Trio Troubles is kinda because in part 40 Butcher Gang figures were created from Lacie, Shawn and Grant so this is like a follow-up.

But back to part 2. Bendy was uncomfortable with his lack of limbs back then.

Parts 1-2 and 41 have a few panels that are intentionally drawn to look similiar or almost the same even, same with dialogue, like that:

Never trust me when I do that.

The reason is because-

I’m a clown. :o)

#WOW THIS GOT LONG IM SORRY FDNFDLK #im very passionate about me lore #bendy and the ink machine #abomination #joey drew #bendy the dancing demon #the ink demon #story!joey #halfpost #long post #body horror #squish #magenta #halfask

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staylovehearts · 4 years

Text

Love on second chance

Han Jisung x Reader

Word Count ~5.1k

Summary: Maybe it was naive to believe that after your confession everything would be like a romance movie, maybe you should have been prepared for rejection

Tags: friends to lovers?, some angst, fluffy ending tho, Felix is in this for some reason

"I'm so sorry, I don't feel the same way."

If this was a movie that would be the record scratch freeze-frame moment. You may be wondering how I got here? Maybe there would be some kind of rewind, a montage, or some time loop of everything that has lead up to the moment where you confess your feelings to Han Jisung. The boy you've been crushing on for maybe half a year now. And it seemed to be going so well. You finally managed to get closer to him, befriend him, spend time with him. Confessing was the next logical step. Or so you thought. Sadly, life isn't a movie, so you'll have to deal with him rejecting you in real-time, no comedic-relief interruption.

"I see", you mumble. What else is there even to say? No one really goes into a confession preparing for what would happen if you're turned down. At least you didn't. You tend to write scripts in your mind, planning out dialogues and dreaming up scenarios. And the script for this scene looked completely different when you were imagining it. It started with you giving Jisung that dramatic speech, detailing all the things you like about him and ending it with a passionate confession of love that would leave him speechless for a moment before he'd just kiss you, one hand on your back the other in your hair, pulling you as close as he physically can. Sunset over the river that you passed on your little walk in the background. You already failed at the sunset. Wrong timing. Also, it's kind of cloudy, might even rain soon. But those were setbacks you were willing to accept. A whole alteration of your perfect script, however, is nothing you came prepared for. Maybe you shouldn't have been so naive.

"I'm really sorry", Jisung repeats. He looks extremely uncomfortable. Apparently, he has no idea how to handle this situation either. Maybe confessing out here was stupid. You'll still have to walk back to the next station at least. You can already feel the uncomfortable silence pressing down on you.

"It's not your fault", you finally manage to say. It really isn't. If anyone here is to blame it's probably you. But that's just how it is when you gamble. The more you bet the more you can lose. And you're not as much of an Ace of Hearts as you thought you were. "You feel what you feel and I feel what I feel and I guess there is nothing to be done about that."

"Maybe you're right, but I still feel bad about it. I hope we can still be friends though." There it is, that dreaded sentence. Part of you wants to say yes right away. The clingy naive part that refuses to give up. If he's asking to remain friends that must mean he still wants you, right? That he still likes you. That he still wants to be close to you. But the new, more cynical part of your mind that is beginning to form knows that he wants you as a friend only. Nothing more than that. Maybe he's even hoping that you can just go back to how things were, pretend this confession never happened. So he won't have to feel bad about turning you down anymore. Maybe he's hoping that this will be one of those in ten years we'll probably laugh about it scenarios. But you don't want it to be.

"I'm sorry I'll just... need some time to get over you. And I don't think I can do that when I still see you all the time. I need some distance. Sorry."

"I get it... I guess. I'm really, really sorry."

If he says sorry just one more time you might actually start feeling bad for him. Which is so twisted actually. Because aren't you the one who's heart just got broken? You shouldn't emphasise with him for breaking it. Sure, he didn't mean to, but with every apology, every moment of him looking sad about it you're starting to feel worse about your confession. Because see, now you made him sad, is that what you wanted? It wasn't obviously. But it's what you get. It's all your fault.

"I think I should go now", you say. You can already feel your bottom lip trembling, the tears welling up in your eyes. You don't want to cry in front of Jisung, not now. Not when things are like this. Because it'll only make him feel worse. And he'll try so hard to comfort you and it will only make the whole thing more uncomfortable. Sure, you lost but maybe you can at least keep a little bit of dignity.

"Sure, maybe I'll see you around?", Jisung mumbles awkwardly. You shrug your shoulders.

"Wouldn't count on it", you answer, voice already cracking. Then you turn on your heel and walk as fast as you can without running.

It's been roughly two weeks since Jisung turned you down. Two weeks that you spent mostly just sitting at home either dramatically crying to sad music or stuffing yourself with ice cream or whatever other snacks you had lying around while watching every cheesy romance drama you could find online. And sure, maybe you're acting a little dumb and cliche or whatever. But it hurts and all of this actually does make it feel better. And yet you also realise that you just can't live as a shut-in, wallowing in self-pity forever. All your friends realise it too. Though most of them are patient with trying to invite you out and cheer you up they are starting to become pushier. It's just a matter of time until someone actually breaks in and forces you out of your room. And it's very likely that Felix will be the one to do it.

At least that is what it seems like judging by how insistent he is to invite you to his little house party this weekend. Or rather the small get together as he has called it in his initial pitch.

"Oh come on, it's really not a big deal, just some friends. We're only going to play some games, maybe watch a movie, no excessive drinking or anything. It'll be fun."

You can pretty much hear Felix's pout even though his voice does sound a little muffled through your phone. You switch it from one hand to another before you press it against your ear again, simultaneously rolling over in your bed a little. You knock over an empty ice cream container in the process, a dirty spoon falling out of it and clattering onto the floor. Yuck, you really should clean up around here again.

"Ugh, fine, but I won't stay long", you grumble. You don't need to be able to see Felix to imagine that winning grin on his face.

"Great, bring some snacks if you can!", he says happily. And normally he would hang up with that, but the sentence is followed by a pregnant silence. So tense that it feels like one of those you could hear a needle drop kind of scenarios. You wait with bated breath until Felix finally continues to speak. "There is one thing though... Jisung will be there as well. Probably. I guess he kinda told me what happened so if you're uncomfortable seeing him I totally get it."

You take a deep breath in, trying to calm yourself. You've expected this. Of course, you have. Felix and Jisung are basically inseparable. In fact, you only ended up getting to know Felix after you befriended Jisung. And while you have gotten quite close to him where he is long past just being your crush's best friend there is no denying that at the very beginning getting closer to Felix was just a sideproduct of getting closer to Jisung.

"Is this what this is actually about? Because if you're planning to invite both of us over so we can talk things out I'm not interested." Okay, maybe that did sound a little too snappy. Maybe it's only natural for Felix wanting to play the mediator, after all, he is basically stuck in between. He probably doesn't want to sacrifice his newer friendship to you just because his best friend just broke your heart. And if you're being honest you don't want to lose Felix as a friend either. Even if that means that maybe you will have to occasionally see Jisung.

"No, no, that's not what this is about at all. I swear. I get that you don't want to see him right now. But I kinda miss hanging out with you and not inviting you would have felt wrong. But if you really don't want to we could just meet up at another time? Like just us, or at least just us and some people that aren't Jisung."

Another deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Let go of all the negative emotions and try to be the bigger person. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't make you feel like you have to pick between your friends. I'll come, but if things get awkward please don't be mad if I leave early."

"I totally get that, but I'm so happy that you're coming. I promise you won't regret it", Felix's bubbly voice is almost enough to convince you that this is actually something that could be good for you. Almost. You can hear some sounds through your phone, probably someone else walking up to Felix. For a moment you can hear hushed voices talking, but you can only really make out Felix's part of the conversation – mostly just small humms and yes or of course not – the other person is completely inaudible. You clear your throat just loud enough to remind Felix that he is still on the phone with you.

"Ah sorry", he mutters. "Gotta go now, see you soon though. I'll text you the details later." Before you can even say goodbye he has already hung up again. You put your phone back down next to your pillow and take a moment to look around the room. You catch your reflection looking back at you from the mirror on your closet door. Maybe your room isn't the only thing in need of some cleaning.

It's a wonder what an hour in the bathroom and wearing some of your favourite clothes can do to boost your confidence. Well, maybe you are a little overdressed for this little get-together, but it's all self-care, right? And maybe there is just a tiny dash of revenge in it as well. Because what better way to prove to the guy who turned you down that you are doing just fine than waltzing around his best friends' party looking stunning and unbothered? Okay, it's probably more of that than anything else. But if you can prove to Jisung that you are completely over him, thank you very much, maybe you can fool yourself into believing it as well.

So you ring the doorbell, hair done, a bit of makeup on, slightly overdressed and smelling of that fruity-scented shower gel that always makes you feel good. It's almost half an hour before the time that Felix told you to be here. Which is deliberate as well. He does look a little surprised when he opens the door for you though.

"Oh, hey, you're here early", he mumbles, taking a confused step to the side to let you in. You, instead, go in for a quick hug first and then hand him the few packages of snacks you picked up from a grocery store on your way here.

"Yeah, sorry about that, but I had nothing else to do and I figured I could maybe help you set up things?", you suggest while making your way inside. Felix's parents must be out for the night, which you already assumed, but now you can clearly tell from the lack of silence. EDM music is coming from the good speakers in the living room, something Felix's parents would never tolerate if they were here.

"Well, now that you're here already...", Felix mumbles.

You two spend the next twenty minutes putting all the snacks and some drinks on the table in the living room. You clear any random items off the couch to make sure there will be as much room as possible while Felix gets a couple extra cushions to put on the floor just in case. After that, he begins setting up his console while you browse through the DVD collection. Sure, you could also just watch something on Netflix, but there is just something fun about DVDs. Probably because you can only have a few of them, so you have to pick and chose and collect only your favourite movies so you can watch them over and over again. A person's DVD collection probably says a lot about them. Well, if they still have one. Judging by some of the movies in this collection most of it probably belongs to Felix's parents. But there are a couple in there that are so definitely his.

Maybe ten minutes after the time Felix told you to be here the first people arrive. Because being exactly on time is lame, apparently. And then, as it often is with such events, people suddenly seem to all come at once. For five minutes or so the doorbell is ringing at least twice a minute until everyone is gathered in the living room. Every time a new person arrived and Felix went to open the door you kind of trailed behind him. First of all, because you are curious to see who else is coming. And second because you kind of don't want to be left alone. Because these people are Felix's friends. And while most of them are probably also Jisung's friends one way or another and you might have seen them on some occasion once you don't really know any of them. And the only other person that you really know well is not someone you want to spend time with right now. Which is why you're going to try your best to cling to Felix for most of the night. Actually, that's the main reason why you decided to show up early. If you had shown up around time or later you would have risked someone else being there first. And that person might have already got Felix roped into a super interesting conversation that you wouldn't be able to invade. So you had to make sure to be the first. Because maybe that would make tailing him for the entire night a little less awkward. And so far that has worked quite well. Maybe because Felix has also sensed that you don't want to be left alone, but even when new people start to arrive he still makes sure you are included in every conversation.

Jisung is the last to show up and just as you have with the other guest you follow Felix to the door, not knowing but already sort of expecting what's to come. Still, when you see Jisung there and your eyes meet you hide behind Felix instinctively. For a second the three of you all just stand there, no one really knowing what to do. There is an awkward tension hanging in the air as the two friends stand there, Felix trying to act completely unaware of the situation and Jisung looking everywhere but at you. And since you are standing right behind Felix, he is also pretty much looking at everything except his best friend.

"Come on, don't just stand there", Felix finally says, his voice overly cheerful. Jisung smiles a smile that is so clearly forced that it hurts just to look at it.

"Yeah sorry for holding up traffic, it's good to see you", he mumbles. For just a moment he looks directly at you and slightly nods his head. A blink and you miss it gesture. But it's enough to make you feel like something just shattered inside you. And there you thought you were starting to get over him. It's weird because you figured that you'd grow to despise Jisung for turning you down like this. That you would become bitter and no longer want to be near him. But despite everything he's still Jisung. He's still the boy you fell in love with. The one who'd always make you smile and who'd pout at you cutely whenever you poked fun at him. The boy who used to share his cake with you and who always looked like an adorable little hamster chewing on his share of the food. Despite everything, he's still Jisung. And you're still in love with him.

Still, things seem to go well for a while. Even though you and Jisung are in a room now and you basically suffer every time you as much as cross eyes with him, you're able to forget that he is there most of the time. It's easy with a group of other people shouting and laughing almost non-stop. And also there is Felix who you cling to as if your life depends on it. Well, at least you manage to do that for most of the time. But of course, you knew that this plan was bound to fail sooner or later. And when Felix winds up in an intense argument with two of his friends whose names you don't even know you're left to yourself. Which means that it's time to hide for a while.

You walk over to the kitchen after announcing to whoever was close enough to hear you speak that you are going to get yourself something to drink. Not that anyone particularly cared. You’re leaned against the pretty marble counter in the middle of the room, back to the door, a glass of cold tap water in one hand when you suddenly hear someone else entering.

"So, are you and Felix dating now?" You recognise the person behind you right away. That voice is just way too familiar. But you still turn around slowly, hoping that somehow it will be someone else standing there. But it's Jisung. Of course, it's Jisung. He's standing in the doorway leading into the kitchen. The only door leading into the kitchen. And thus also the only way out of it. And you are standing next to the fridge, only the kitchen counter between you and the boy who broke your heart. And is now inquiring about your relationship status out of the blue. As if that's any of his concern now. Still, you're basically backed into a corner with Jisung blocking the only exit. Fight or flight and well, the escape route is blocked so...

"Huh, where is this coming from? Why do you even care?" You basically throw the words at Jisung with more rage than you even realised you had. Or maybe it's sadness. Frustration. It's the first time you've actually spoken to him since the confession and he has nothing better to do than making assumptions about you dating someone else. Jisung actually recoils a little, but he's still in the way.

"You know, you're clinging to his side the whole time and all that. I'm not judging, I'd be happy for you if... you know", he raises his hands while talking as if to calm a wild animal. Or a panicked pet that managed to escape from its cage somehow. And the worst thing is that he actually seems to mean it. He doesn't even see how his words might be hurtful to you. He doesn't even think that there might be something wrong with it. Your first notion about how he intends to handle this situation was right apparently. He thinks this meant nothing. And that it will all be forgive forget and we'll laugh about it in a few weeks.

"You broke my damn heart not even three weeks ago and now you think I'm trying to hit it off with your best friend? What the hell, Jisung? Do you really take me for that kind of person? Do you think after everything I said to you I could just move on and find someone else in just a few weeks? Do you think that this is how I treat other people? That this is how I treat my own emotions? Because I'm really serious about what I feel and I don't just tell people that I like them if I don't actually mean it. But if that's what you honestly think of me then I'm starting to wonder why I ever even liked you in the first place!"

You push past a completely stunned Jisung before he can manage to bounce back from the verbal punch you just dealt. Good. You probably wouldn't be able to deal with any more of this. You stumble into Felix on your way through the hallway and he gives you a slightly confused slightly concerned look seeing how you are clearly worked up and probably close to tears.

"Hey, what's going on?", he asks, grabbing you by the wrist gently, but with just enough force to make you stop in your tracks.

"I'm going to leave. I'm sorry", you mumble. You avoid looking directly at him, worrying that the compassion in his eyes would be enough to break you completely. And you don't really want to start crying here. It's not you're party so sadly you can't cry if you want to.

"Did something happen? I swear if he said anything stupid to you I will kick his ass."

"It's fine I just can't deal with this right now. I'm sorry for spoiling your night."

Felix sighs. "You're not spoiling anything. I get it, it's fine. Take care on your way home. Text me if you want to talk."

He pulls you into a quick hug before letting go off you entirely, allowing you to go and grab your shoes before sneaking out the door.

You haven't even made it around the lock when you hear the loud sounds of fast footsteps catching up to you. Your first instinct is to walk faster, just slightly, not running just speedwalking. All possessions clutched tightly, tight grip on your keys. Then you hear the voice calling out to you and maybe running isn't that bad of an idea after all.

"Hey, stop, I just want to talk to you!" Jisung sounds out of breath already. He must have run all the way just to catch up. As if he hasn't already said enough. You stop and turn around to yell back at him.

"If the others told you to go after me and apologise you can save your breath. I don't want to hear about it."

Jisung slows down a bit, trying to catch his breath, but he doesn't stop walking towards you.

"It's not that at all", he shouts. Almost automatically you start glancing around yourself for any random passerby listening in on the conversation before you turn back to Jisung. By then he has come close enough to speak in a normal volume. No more shouting needed. And you still didn't run away. "Please, I just want to talk", he says.

You look around yourself again before you let out a sigh. "Fine, then let's go somewhere and talk. The last thing I want to do right now is causing a scene."

Jisung sets down his tray on the table between you. He's got himself some fries and a strawberry milkshake. Because he insisted that you had to at least get something if you were going to lother around and block a table. He also offered to get you something, even said he'd pay for it. But you've turned him down. You just want to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"So, what did you want to talk about?", you ask impatiently, after Jisung has fumbled around with the lid of his milkshake for a while because he forgot to get himself a straw. He looks up at you with an almost bashful expression.

"It's just... I'm really sorry. About earlier. I shouldn't have said that. That was stupid of me." He seems to mean it. Even though you're not sure whether he has actually realised his mistake or if he just feels bad for offending you. But in either way, his apology is genuine. And yet, you can't really get yourself to forgive him that easily.

"Is that it?", you ask. Seeing Jisung's hurt expression you want to take it back immediately. But you won't get anywhere if you just back down every time someone gets uncomfortable. It's just the way feelings work. Someone will get hurt. And it has never been about trying to avoid that hurt, it's about learning to deal with it. Learning to cope and to talk it out and to make it go away again. Maybe it's time for that now.

"I just, and I know this must sound super silly to you, I got so jealous seeing you with Felix earlier. And it was stupid of me to accuse you like this. But for a moment I was afraid that you actually moved on that fast. Because I didn't want you to. And I know that's selfish, but I wanted you to still be into me."

You let out an annoyed huff to let Jisung know that this is in fact very much selfish and not really helping his case right now, but he doesn't let it discourage him from speaking.

"Because I like you too. And I didn't realise how much until I didn't have you around me anymore. And when I saw you with someone else I just kinda lost it completely. I can't bear to lose you."

Instead of replying you reach out a hand and snatch one of Jisung's fries.

"Hey!", he complains as you dip the fry you just stole from him into his milkshake, making sure to scrape up as much of it as the tiny piece of burnt potato can hold.

"Shush, let me have this", you say, popping the loaded fry into your mouth. You catch Jisung's gaze and suddenly both of you are smiling. And then you're laughing. And it's as if a weight has been lifted off your chest. You haven't felt this free in weeks. But of course, the moment doesn't last and the two of you quickly fall back into an awkward silence. Yet you're also not done talking. And there are some things you need to say now or you will maybe never be able to say them at all.

"You know, I'm still really hurt and as much as I'd like to just say that I still like you as well and pretend like everything is alright now, I just can't."

"I get that. And as I've said before, I'm really sorry. I was stupid back then and I didn't realise how much you meant to me until you weren't around anymore. It's like I took you for granted. And I shouldn't have. I swear, if I could turn back time I would. If I could go back to the day you confessed to me I would tell you that I feel the same about you."

"You can't though. We can't replay that scene, it's over." And the script you wrote for it in your mind is torn to shreds and thrown away.

"How about a new scene then?", Jisung suggests. You raise one eyebrow at him, trying to give him a questioning look but he just grins at you. "Let's start again right here." He stretches his arms out as if to point to the place around him. At this time of night, the fast-food shop isn't really full, but it isn't empty either. It's filled with a weird mixture of businessmen who just want to get a single black coffee-to-go and groups of young people that are between slightly tipsy and straight-up high lining up to order insane amounts of fries and cheap burgers with too much sauce. The place is kinda dirty, there are still crumbs on your table from who knows what time of day, a mustard stain on the chair next to yours. The air smells greasy and some annoying pop song is playing from a speaker that must be rather close to you and still you can't locate it precisely.

"Jisung, I don't think-" But he doesn't let you finish. Instead, he reaches out and grabs your hand.

"Listen, I really like you. Because you're cute and funny and beautiful. And you have such a good way with words, you made me the most beautiful confession I have ever heard and I was so flattered to hear all of that from something as wonderful as yourself. And having you as my friend is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Because you add so much to my life, I feel like I could never get bored with you. And I like that you're weird, I like that you dip your fries into ice cream and milkshakes and how you sometimes just stare into thin air as if you're somewhere completely different. And sometimes you're really quiet as if you're stuck in your head, but I still like you then. Because you're dreamy and sort of weird and just such an amazing person to be around. And I'm sorry that I took you for granted. Could you find it in your heart to forgive me? I'm not asking you to just date me right away after I hurt you like this. All I'm asking is that we can try again. And if you ever want to make that confession again I promise I'll respond properly."

It's weird. This is nothing like you imagined it. The setting is far from romantic, the mood far from perfect. No one would write a script like that. But that has always been the thing that makes Jisung so attractive to you. He breaks the script. He doesn't need one. He just says whatever he thinks. Whatever he feels. He's so genuine. So easy to make you forget about all your overthinking. Put the script aside and just watch how things will play out.

"I accept your apology", you mumble. With your thumb, you draw a tiny circle onto the back of Jisung's hand and he gently squeezes yours back. "I'm ready to try again."

#stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenario #stray kids x reader #han jisung #han #jisung #han x reader #jisung x reader #han fluff #han scenarios #scenario #fluff #angst #friends to lovers

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montagnarde1793 · 4 years

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Ribbons of Scarlet: A predictably terrible novel on the French Revolution (part 3)

Parts 1, 2, 4 and 5.

Style Issues

Stylistically, there’s a great deal of “tell don’t show” in this book, especially as regards the actual politics. The only things that are really concrete are the characters’ romantic entanglements and scenes of violence. This is a flaw that runs so deep that correcting it would mean writing a completely different book.

One thing that they could have done that would have made it somewhat more bearable, however, regards the use of language. In a book written in English but that takes place in France and where all the characters are French, please, I’m begging you, do not randomly (and often ungrammatically) insert whichever French words and phrases you half-remember from high school French class into descriptions and dialogue. It doesn’t give the characters a flavor of being French, it gives you a flavor of ignorance.

The key word here is “randomly”: note that I’m not talking about things like terms of address, exclamations, etc., for which there is an established convention, or terms for which there might not be an exact equivalent in English. No, I’m talking about this kind of thing: “[…] running a hand through his short-cropped noir hair” (p. 352). Please, resist the urge!

Also, this isn’t strictly a style issue, as the grammar is the least of the problems with it, but I don’t really know where else to put it... Each of the six parts opens with an epigraph. Here’s the one for Émilie de Sainte-Amaranthe’s (p. 437) :

“It was a sensual delight for l’homme rouge to see fall in the basket these charming heads and their ruby blood streaming under the hideous cleaver.”

—Archives Nationale [sic]

I can’t believe I have to say this to a fellow historian, but just saying a quote is from the archives is bizarrely and baffling amateurish. It’s like saying a quote is from the library, or from a book or from the internet. Without further information, it’s about as useful a citation as saying it came to you in a dream. Why? Because it tells us nothing about the author or the date or any kind of context and therefore gives us no real way of evaluating it — though the lurid, sensationalist language doesn’t inspire confidence. Since the author of this section more than any other seems to take as a principle of novel-writing that whatever is the most over-the-top makes for the best fiction, I would say sure, why not, but as the authors also apparently want their depiction of “history” to be taken seriously… I mean, what is there to even say?

Writing What You Want to Know

There’s a problem throughout this book with characters talking about 18th France like it’s a place they’ve only read about in books rather than the only place they’ve ever lived and therefore the only reality *they* know firsthand. Now, obviously, the authors, like the rest of us, *have* only read about a 200+ year-old setting in books (or come to know it through various types of primary sources), but good historical fiction should be able to make you forget that, or at least come close.

I can’t entirely decide whether we’re looking at a failure of research here or of imagination — or just clumsy handling of exposition. I suspect it’s some mixture of all three.

Allow me to explain. The clumsy exposition is a result of the aforementioned lack of trust in the reader as well, I suspect, of the few pages allotted to each author, which don’t allow for a more natural immersion of the reader into a world that is entirely alien to them but is made up of both new and familiar elements to the characters.

The research vs imagination issue is more complex. I’m a firm believer in the updated adage “write what you want to know,” but if you’re going to do that, the intermediate step between wanting and writing is inevitably research. And well, there’s research and there’s research. For a novel especially, you don’t just want to be researching what happened, the concrete material facts such as who was present for what event or what a given figure’s relationship was to the people around them, but also people’s mentalities/sensibilities. To plausibly write from their point of view, you also have to investigate the reasons they might have believed what they believed and to take that investigation seriously, whether or not you agree.

This was achieved better with some characters than others and again, I’m not entirely sure whether it’s for lack of research or lack of ability to empathize with certain points of view. Ironically, the chapter on Mme Élisabeth is probably the best handled. The author of that section says she wanted to be “fair” (back matter, p. 12) to her subject and I think she succeeds better than her co-authors, while showing that Mme Élisabeth, convinced of the absolute validity of the divine right of her brother, advocates at every turn for violently repressing the Revolution. She’s allowed to articulate her (frankly pretty abhorrent) beliefs in a plausible manner.

Perhaps the author of this section is just a better writer than her co-authors, but I think there’s more to it than that. I obviously can’t read minds, but from the text of the novel itself as well as from the authors’ notes, I get the impression that we’re dealing with a dual problem of epistemology (i.e. how do you know what you know?) and politics. In either case, it’s not a coincidence if Mme Élisabeth is the best drawn character… and Reine Audu and Pauline Léon are the worst.

First, on the epistemology side: whether consciously or not, it seems to me as if the authors largely started out with the assumption that they already basically understood their protagonists. Sophie de Grouchy is so ahead of her time she might as well be a modern woman, got it, no problem… Reine Audu is an avatar of the “mob,” (the author of her section’s words, not mine, back matter, p. 8), pitiable because of her poverty but with no real politics beyond that of hunger and resentment… Pauline Léon is a “well-intentioned extremist” to use TV Tropes parlance — you would think that label would apply better to Charlotte Corday, but the latter ends up being so saintly she basically converts Pauline Léon (in what is quite possibly the most maddening moment in the whole damn book)… and so on. If I’m right, the authors’ assumptions about these archetypes made them not really feel the need to dig too deeply into the question of what made these women tick, either through research or empathy.

We don’t know much about Reine Audu or Pauline Léon, but there has been a fair amount of research into the beliefs of the popular movement and revolutionary crowds from Georges Lefebvre onward (most of it tending to dispel the lazy stereotypes on display here). The authors either didn’t bother with it or made poor use of it (as is evidently the case with poor Dominique Godineau, who does figure in the bibliography).

The book does Pauline Léon a disservice on both sides, mischaracterizing her beliefs for good and for ill. They make feminism as a contemporary audience would understand it her primary cause and her support for the rest of the popular movement’s program (in which we learn that women and people of color are to be included, but not actually what it consists of...) accessory and easily disposable so Charlotte Corday can be proved right and “radical” men can prove to be the real enemy.

(Which… I could roll with it if the idea was just that men of all political flavors can be misogynists, but as usual, the message is all men are potential rapists (except Condorcet, Buzot, La Fayette and Louis XVI, of course) but the further left they are the rape-ier they get. That’s not how that works.)

Anyway, the point is, these are characters the authors seem to have gone in assuming they understood, either because they found them relatable or because they thought they knew what archetype they corresponded to. The author of the section on Mme Élisabeth, on the other hand, writes that this was a character that it took some effort to understand because the character’s worldview was so different from the author’s and that of her presumed readers. This was also the case to some degree with the author of Manon Roland’s section, who writes about having to grapple with her protagonist’s not being a feminist (a position that this author bizarrely seems to think was rare at the time). Regardless, in both cases, the effort to understand, along with the existence of more sources produced by the character they were attempting to inhabit, produced better results.

But again, I think there’s also a political element. Remember how I mentioned that this book’s main flaw is its feeling of artificiality? (I mean, to the point that the rest of this critique is really just about understanding why it feels so artificial.) One of the moments that felt the most authentic to me was Mme Élisabeth’s extravagant shoe-buying habit, her feeling bad about it and her confessor reassuring her that it’s fine because she hasn’t taken a vow of poverty, after all. And I don’t mean ‘authentic’ necessarily in the sense of ‘historically accurate’ — I don’t know enough about Mme Élisabeth off the top of my head to comment on her shoe collection. But I did think: there, consumerism and guilt about consumerism are in fact much more relatable to the middle class authors and their presumed middle class audience than hunger and privation — or activism relating to socio-economic issues, for that matter. Which is how we end up, here as in a lot of other media, with a relatable royal and revolutionary caricatures.

This is also a good demonstration of how research and imagination or empathy play off each other. Marge Piercy didn’t have more information about Pauline Léon than the authors of this book. In fact, she had less: she writes in the preface of her book that she learned that Léon’s mother was in fact still alive at the time of the Revolution when it was too late to change what she had written. Credit where credit is due, once again, this new book corrects that error.

But in every other respect, Piercy’s version is far superior, because Pauline Léon’s views as well as her experience are taken seriously. This is no doubt due in large part because Piercy herself has been an activist for various left-wing causes. Her activism surely allowed her to relate to her characters, but far from writing a simple projection from her own experience, it allowed her, just as importantly, to entertain the notion that there was something there to be taken seriously. And therefore, that it was worth researching what precisely these figures were fighting for and not simply the question of why people get caught up in “extremism.” That’s why Pauline Léon and Claire Lacombe’s chapters are the best in City of Darkness, City of Light, while Pauline Léon and Reine Audu’s are the worst in this book.

Next time: inaccuracies big and small!

#en anglais #French Revolution #Révolution française

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real-espanadrid · 4 years

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Please Call Me Again

Pairings: wangxian, background xuanli, xiyao, chengqing

Tags: modern setting, college au, fluff, silly, mutual pining, no courtesy names, single dad/physics student wwx, music/literature student lwj

Summary: Lan Zhan prank calls Wei Ying pretending to be a scam caller. It’s supposed to be a one-time thing. (Spoiler alert: it isn’t.)

Author’s Note: i decided on a whim to delve into the world of cql fic-writing...here’s my first attempt! enjoy!

Lan Zhan glares at the figures of Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan blatantly laughing at him as he lifts his phone to his ear, furiously contemplating the pros and cons of committing homicide against the two people who he grudgingly accepts as his friends. While he waits for the person on the other end to pick up, he asks himself why he keeps accompanying his brother to these Lan-Jin-Nie family get-togethers when he knows Nie Huaisang always has some ridiculous scheme planned that both he and Jin Zixuan always, without fail, end up getting roped into.

This time, Nie Huaisang has apparently decided that today is a good day for prank calls. Jin Zixuan has already been dared to call Jiang Yanli using Jin Guangyao’s work phone, which Nie Huaisang had stolen while Jin Guangyao was greeting Lan Huan with the usual single-minded focus that characterizes all his interactions with Lan Zhan’s brother.

The task had been to pretend to be a volunteer with a generic charity organization, but Jiang Yanli, in a twist that wasn’t really a twist at all, considering the enormous crush she has on the man, had recognized Jin Zixuan’s voice immediately. Lan Zhan had been forced to watch Jin Zixuan stutter his way through an explanation while Jiang Yanli’s gentle laughter filtered through the phone’s speaker and Nie Huaisang smiled knowingly behind his ever-present hand-painted fan.

The intention behind the dare is obvious, in Jin Zixuan’s case, because he’s been pining after Jiang Yanli for months now and hasn’t done a thing about it, despite her equally evident interest in him. It does, however, make Lan Zhan a little concerned about whose phone number Nie Huaisang has made him dial, because for him, the end goal is less clear.

Lan Zhan isn’t given the chance to fully mull over his apprehension, though, because the phone finally stops ringing as someone picks up.

“Hello?” It’s the voice of a man, fairly young-sounding. He seems totally unfazed.

“Hello,” Lan Zhan says stiffly. “How are you today?”

“I’m great!” says the man brightly.

Lan Zhan blinks, taken aback by the unexpected enthusiasm of the reply. “...Good,” he says, unsure of what an appropriate response to that would be. “I am calling because – your IP address has been compromised.” Making up dialogue on the spot is horrible, he discovers. He fixes Nie Huaisang with a look that he hopes will haunt his friend’s dreams for the next few nights. “I will need you to – get in front of your computer so we can fix your account.” It feels unlikely, but maybe the man on the other end hasn’t noticed Lan Zhan’s hesitation as he fabricates a reason for his call.

“Okay!” the man agrees, still unsettlingly excited. Lan Zhan wonders who this man is and why Nie Huaisang thought Lan Zhan, of all people, should prank call him. “There’s one thing I’m wondering, though.”

“What?” Lan Zhan finds that he actually is somewhat curious.

The man laughs a bit. It’s a distractingly pleasant sound. “You really couldn’t think of a better lie? Like, my ‘IP address has been compromised.’ How, exactly, does an IP address become ‘compromised?’”

There’s a long pause following the question. Maybe the man is waiting for Lan Zhan to reply. If he is, he’s going to be disappointed, because Lan Zhan has no idea what to say to this. He suddenly feels a pang of sympathy for any real scam callers who have called this number before.

The man seems to realize he isn’t going to get a response because he cheerfully continues talking. “I was just wondering, that’s all!”

This is a logical point in the call to hang up. Lan Zhan has technically already carried out Nie Huaisang’s stupid dare – he’s impersonated a scam caller and spoken to this man for long enough. But for whatever reason, he hears himself speak again. “Why did you answer?”

It’s the man’s turn to fall silent. Lan Zhan lets himself feel a little smug at being able to leave this man speechless for a few moments. “What?” the man finally asks.

“If you knew this was not a legitimate call, then why did you answer?” Lan Zhan presses. He wants to know the answer, he realizes. He’s intrigued by this man, wants to know why he’s still talking to Lan Zhan despite believing he has possibly malicious intentions.

“Oh!” the man says, and he sounds a little awkward now. “I just thought I would, uh, you know, have some fun at your expense!”

Lan Zhan frowns in confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan watching him with poorly-hidden amusement. “What expense? Talking is no expense to me.”

The man lets out a hum. “Well, you’re currently not accomplishing your goal.”

“My goal?” Lan Zhan asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Your goal of scamming Granny,” the man says matter-of-factly, like Lan Zhan should have already been aware that the number he called is not, in fact, the man’s number – and Lan Zhan is decidedly not disappointed about that – but his grandmother’s. “You’re not accomplishing that! I’d call that an expense.”

Lan Zhan can’t help himself – he improvises a new question. “Well, can I scam you?” Jin Zixuan’s eyes widen in surprise, and Nie Huaisang looks faintly impressed.

The man is silent once again. “Did you –” he breaks off, sounding bewildered, which for some reason feels like a victory.“Did you just ask if you can scam me?”

“Yes,” Lan Zhan confirms, and then just to be clear, he asks again. “Can I scam you?”

“Uh – um, sure, you can try,” the man says, and for the first time in this call, he sounds a little flustered.

Lan Zhan can’t believe that worked. He quickly cycles back to the start of the conversation and his original request. “You need to be in front of your computer.”

The man lets out a huff of laughter. “Yeah, that’s still a problem. I didn’t sleep last night and I’m eating tater tots right now and I don’t really feel like getting up.”

“Okay,” Lan Zhan says, and he isn’t sure what makes him do it, but he continues, “I will call you tomorrow morning, then.” Jin Zixuan and Nie Huaisang’s jaws both drop at that.

“I...I might not answer,” the man says after a moment of hesitation. Lan Zhan wonders if he came on a little too strong. “Granny definitely won’t.”

“You answered today,” Lan Zhan points out.

“Ahaha,” the man says, his laughter coming across as slightly nervous. “Touché?”

Lan Zhan nods, before he remembers the man can’t see him. “Mn. I will call you tomorrow. Get some sleep tonight. Have a good day.” He hangs up before he can hear the man’s response.

“Lan Zhan,” Nie Huaisang says the second Lan Zhan pockets his phone. “That was insane.”

“I completed the dare as you asked,” Lan Zhan says, perfectly aware that he went way beyond what was necessary, and that both Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan know it too.

“You are way too good at scam calling,” Jin Zixuan says in a vaguely accusatory way. “Who were you even talking to, anyway?”

At that, Nie Huaisang’s smile becomes a little more amused. “Well, since Lan Zhan is going to be calling him again tomorrow morning, why doesn’t he just ask then?”

“I do not intend to call him,” Lan Zhan says, even though lying is forbidden.

Nie Huaisang gives him a look that’s somehow both sympathetic and condescending. “Sure you don’t.”

Lan Zhan and Jin Zixuan eventually get back at Nie Huaisang later in the day by “accidentally” revealing to Jin Guangyao that they know where his work phone has disappeared to, but Lan Zhan doesn’t get his usual momentary satisfaction from watching Nie Huaisang unsuccessfully try to convince Nie Mingjue that he doesn’t know anything about the missing phone. Instead, his mind is stuck on a bright, cheerful voice and the sound of sweet laughter.

~~~

Wei Ying has been having a weird couple of days. On Wednesday, he experienced the high of finishing his solar spectroscopy lab two days early, which has never happened before in this entire semester. On Thursday, things quickly deteriorated when Wei Yuan threw a tantrum because he wanted to spend an extra ten minutes watching TV instead of going for his bath, and then got even worse when Wei Ying realized that in his eagerness to finish the lab early, he forgot to do his Quantum Field Theory problem set for the week and had to pull an emergency all-nighter.

Then yesterday, in his sleep-deprived state, he had a bizarre conversation with the strangest scam caller he’s ever interacted with – not that he’s interacted with many to begin with, but still – and now, here he is again, picking up Granny’s landline because somehow, the scam caller has made good on his promise to call again.

“Hello,” Mr. Scam Caller says, and his deep, calm voice is somehow even more attractive than it was yesterday.

“Mr. Scam Caller!” Wei Ying says happily, and he’s a little surprised by how genuine the emotion in his own voice is. “You called again! I wasn’t expecting you to actually do it.”

Mr. Scam Caller doesn’t say anything for a few moments. “I said I would,” he finally says.

Wei Ying can’t help laughing at that. “I guess you did.” Mr. Scam Caller is silent again, but that’s fine with Wei Ying – he can do enough talking for both of them. “I’m Wei Ying, by the way. Since you were good enough to call me back, I think you deserve my name, even though you’re trying to scam me.”

“You should not give out your name to random people,” Mr. Scam Caller says, like he doesn’t collect sensitive information from people for a living. “Especially scam callers.”

“Ah, but you’re not just any scam caller,” Wei Ying says. “You’re my scam caller. You even told me to get some sleep last night, and I did! I slept for almost five hours, aren’t you proud of me?” He wants the answer to be yes, he realizes as he asks, but he isn’t quite sure why.

“Mn,” Mr. Scam Caller says. There isn’t much inflection in his tone, but it’s clearly supposed to be a noise of agreement, and Wei Ying flushes.

“Ahahaha, Mr. Scam Caller,” he says, trying not to sound too affected by this very basic form of praise. “Don’t you think you should share your name with me too? It’s only fair since you already know mine, after all.”

Mr. Scam Caller is silent for so long that Wei Ying is about to take it back and laugh the request off, but then he speaks again. “Lan Zhan.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying repeats, testing out the name. It sounds familiar, somehow, but he can’t figure out why that is. “Lan Zhan! What a good name! I could say your name all day, Lan Zhan.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying is not prepared for hearing his name coming out of Lan Zhan’s mouth. “Do not joke.”

“I’m not joking, Lan Zhan, I promise!” Wei Ying says intently, holding up three fingers before remembering that Lan Zhan can’t see him. “Lan Zhan is a great name.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says. This ”Mn,” is different from the one before, Wei Ying thinks, more noncommittal, like he’s neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and Wei Ying is suddenly desperate to keep it going. “So, Lan Zhan,” he says. “How are you going to try to scam me today?”

“You need to be in front of your computer,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying is startled by the brief flash of disappointment he feels that Lan Zhan didn’t just call simply to talk to him again. He brushes the thought away a second later – of course Lan Zhan only called because he’s a scam caller and it’s his job.

“Ah, Lan Zhan, I can’t,” Wei Ying says. “A-Yuan is using it to play games right now. How can I disturb him when he’s so clearly enjoying himself?”

“A-Yuan?” Lan Zhan asks.

Wei Ying grins. “My son!” he says, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice as he talks about the little boy who stole his heart the moment they met.

Lan Zhan is quiet for several long moments. “I see,” he finally says, sounding more stiff than he had before. “I will stop imposing on you, then.”

“Huh?” Wei Ying says, his smile vanishing. “What do you mean?”

“I have been disturbing you and your family,” Lan Zhan says, his voice still cold compared to how it had sounded previously. “I apologize for intruding on your time. Goodbye, Wei Ying.”

“Lan Zhan, wait!” Wei Ying blurts out. He holds his breath, straining his ears to hear whether Lan Zhan is still on the other end. When he hears the steady sound of breathing, he exhales shakily. “You aren’t intruding, Lan Zhan,” he explains in a rush. “You’ve been really great all two times I’ve talked to you, you know? And you didn’t have to look out for my sleep schedule but you did, and now you’re trying to protect me and my son from yourself, and I know you’re a scam caller, but I – I mean, talking to you is...nice?”

Lan Zhan stays quiet for a long time, and Wei Ying worries that he’s scared him off. “It is nice speaking to you as well, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says after several long moments that feel like forever to Wei Ying.

“Good,” Wei Ying says, and he truly has no idea why he’s so overwhelmingly relieved. “Good, then don’t hang up on me yet, Lan Zhan. You haven’t even tried to get any sensitive information from me!”

“Do you want me to try to get sensitive information from you?” Lan Zhan asks, which is an incredibly baffling question to hear from a scammer.

“Yes,” Wei Ying says, before he considers the question more carefully. “No? I don’t know, Lan Zhan, now you’re confusing me! What kind of scam caller makes their customer confused by asking odd questions instead of going on with their scamming?”

“I apologize,” Lan Zhan says. “I will refrain from asking confusing questions and focus on scamming you in the future.”

Wei Ying bursts into laughter. “Lan Zhan!” he says delightedly. “Has anyone ever told you how funny you are?”

“No,” Lan Zhan says, and Wei Ying can’t see his face but he imagines that Lan Zhan looks a bit puzzled, which is adorable. “People generally tell me I am not particularly funny.”

“They’re all wrong,” Wei Ying declares confidently. “You’re very funny, Lan Zhan! And a great conversation partner. Even while you’re in the middle of scamming someone.” Though, he belatedly notices, there have been very few attempts on Lan Zhan’s part to actually commit any kind of scam. “You’ll have to call me every day from now on, so you can have someone to remind you how funny you are!”

It sounds like Lan Zhan says something along the lines of “Mark your words,” but Wei Yuan suddenly runs into the living room, distracting Wei Ying. “Baba, Baba!” he says, practically vibrating with enthusiasm as he launches himself into Wei Ying’s arms.

Wei Ying manages to tuck the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he sweeps Wei Yuan onto his lap. “What’s the matter, kiddo?”

Lan Zhan makes an inquisitorial noise on the other end of the phone as Wei Yuan beams up at Wei Ying proudly. “I got the best, most highest score!” Wei Yuan reveals. “All by myself!”

“The best, most highest score?” Wei Ying repeats, grinning down at Wei Yuan. “That’s extremely impressive!” He’s speaking into the phone before he can think better of it. “Lan Zhan, did you hear? A-Yuan got the best, most highest score on his game all by himself, he must be even better than me now!”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says. “Congratulations, A-Yuan. You did well.” He says it so solemnly that Wei Ying can’t help laughing again.

“Lan Zhan, you’re so serious,” he says playfully, before addressing Wei Yuan again. “A-Yuan, Lan Zhan said you did well.”

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Yuan asks, peering up at Wei Ying curiously. “Who?”

Wei Ying is on the verge of offering the phone to Wei Yuan when he belatedly realizes that Wen Qing probably wouldn’t be too thrilled if he let the son he adopted from her family speak to a scam caller, no matter how sweet and pleasant to talk to said scam caller is. “He’s my, uh, my phone call buddy,” Wei Ying explains hastily.

Wei Yuan nods. “Thank you, Phone Call-gege!” he says with a toothy smile.

“You made him smile, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says, clutching his heart with the arm that isn’t keeping Wei Yuan in place on his lap. “How can you be so good? Even before meeting him, you already won him over.”

“I am glad I could make him happy,” Lan Zhan says in that unaffected voice of his. It makes Wei Ying want to do something to make him lose his composure.

“Do you want to make me happy too?” Wei Ying asks, and even though Wei Yuan is in the room, he lowers his voice enough for it to unmistakably be an attempt at flirting. “I can think of a few ways you could do that.”

Lan Zhan audibly inhales sharply, and Wei Ying mentally celebrates. “I...must go,” Lan Zhan says a second later, and Wei Ying’s mental celebration is halted in its tracks.

“Will you call tomorrow?” Wei Ying asks quickly, trying to stall him, trying to do anything he can to ensure he can talk to this strange, fascinating scam caller again. “After all, you didn’t manage to scam me yet.”

There’s a beat, before Lan Zhan speaks. “Mn,” he says, and Wei Ying can’t stop smiling. “I will call you tomorrow. Goodbye to you and A-Yuan.”

Like he did yesterday, Lan Zhan hangs up before Wei Ying has the chance to reply, but Wei Ying doesn’t care too much. He pulls Wei Yuan into a hug and sighs happily.

Wei Yuan looks at Wei Ying. “Baba is happy that Phone Call-gege will call him tomorrow?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” Wei Ying says, patting Wei Yuan’s back contentedly. “I am happy.”

~~~

Lan Zhan isn’t sure how things got to this point. He had called Wei Ying back the day after his prank call with the intention of explaining the truth – that he is not, in fact, a scam caller but simply a fourth-year music and literature student – but the conversation had gotten away from him and he missed his chance.

Now, a month later, having called Wei Ying every day since then, Lan Zhan wonders why, in all that time, he still hasn’t tried to correct Wei Ying’s perception of him. Maybe, he thinks, it has something to do with the fact that when he’s talking to Wei Ying, he’s helpless to do anything but go along with whatever conversation Wei Ying feels like having. He now knows that Wei Ying’s son, Wei Yuan, was adopted a year ago, and that Wei Ying lives with Wei Yuan’s grandmother and two cousins. He knows all about Wei Ying’s perfect sister – coincidentally, she turns out to be none other than Jiang Yanli – and his angry brother. And over the course of a month, Lan Zhan has somehow become Wei Ying’s scam caller, and the highlight of his day is always making that call.

Nie Huaisang and Jin Zixuan, traitors that they are, had decided that it would be a good idea to inform Lan Huan of Lan Zhan’s daily conversations with Wei Ying. Predictably, Lan Huan had been delighted to hear about Lan Zhan’s first real display of interest in another person, which is why Lan Zhan is currently in a coffee shop, listening to Lan Huan try to convince him for at least the tenth time to arrange a meeting in person with Wei Ying.

“Didi, you clearly like this Wei Ying quite a lot,” Lan Huan says reasonably. “I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to try meeting him in person. Imagine if I hadn’t gone to meet A-Yao when Mingjue-ge mentioned him for the first time.”

Lan Zhan graciously does not point out that, had Lan Huan not met Jin Guangyao, Lan Zhan would not have to wake up at odd hours to strange noises coming from the other bedroom in their shared apartment. “He has an obligation to his son,” he says instead, just like he always does every time they have this conversation. “I do not wish to pull him away from that duty by imposing my feelings.”

“You know Huaisang is friends with him,” Lan Huan points out. “Surely he would have told you by now if Wei Ying is not interested in pursuing any relationships.”

There’s nothing “sure” about anything when it comes to Nie Huaisang, Lan Zhan thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud, not wanting to be rude to his brother who, ultimately, is only pushing the matter because he has Lan Zhan’s best interests at heart. “Regardless,” Lan Zhan says, “it is unnecessary to meet Wei Ying in person.”

The barista calls out their order, and Lan Zhan gets up to retrieve their drinks before Lan Huan can say anything else. As he’s making his way back to the table, though, drinks in hand, he’s stopped in his tracks by the appearance of a small weight clinging tightly to his leg. “Gege!” says the weight. It is, Lan Zhan finds when he looks down, a small boy, no older than three or four.

“Hello,” Lan Zhan says, trying not to let his panic show. As a rule, he tries to avoid interacting with children he doesn't know when their guardians aren’t present. “Where is your caretaker?”

“Baba is sitting over there with Auntie Qing and Angry Uncle!” the boy says, pointing to a table in the far corner of the shop.

Lan Zhan looks in the direction the boy is pointing and blinks a few times. Sitting at the table are two men Lan Zhan recognizes from Nie Huaisang's alternate friend group, the one he spends time with outside of Lan-Jin-Nie gatherings, and an unfamiliar woman who bears a slight resemblance to the boy still holding Lan Zhan's leg. “You must go back to your Baba,” Lan Zhan says carefully. “He will wonder where you went, otherwise.”

“But,” the boy says, a pout forming on his face, “Baba said that you were a very pretty gege and he wished he could talk to you.”

Lan Zhan wonders what kind of parent lets their child go off to talk to random strangers they find attractive. The last thing Lan Zhan wants is for this boy to start crying, though, so he nods. “I will accompany you back to your table. You should not worry your Baba by leaving him to talk to unknown people.”

The boy’s unhappy expression vanishes instantaneously, replaced by a bright smile. “Okay, Pretty-gege!” he agrees. “Come meet my Baba!”

Lan Zhan belatedly realizes he’s still holding the two cups of tea, but it’s too late to do anything about it, because he and the boy have already reached their destination.

“Baba!” the boy exclaims happily, climbing into the lap of the man who, presumably, is his father.

“A-Yuan!” the man says, sounding equally excited, and Lan Zhan freezes, both at the voice and the name. “Where did you run off to, huh, kiddo?”

“I found Pretty-gege for Baba,” A-Yuan says seriously, and his father looks at Lan Zhan for the first time. “Now Baba can talk to him.” Then, apparently deciding that his work is finished, A-Yuan promptly unlocks his father’s phone and starts playing a game.

Lan Zhan is still unable to move as he stares into the man’s sparkling grey eyes. “Wei Ying,” he says, because it feels like the only thing he can say.

The man – Wei Ying, Lan Zhan is certain it has to be him – gapes at him, his eyes widening in shock and what can only be recognition. “Lan Zhan?” Somehow, the sound of his own name rolling off Wei Ying’s tongue is even more appealing to Lan Zhan in person than it is over the phone. “You’re Huaisang’s gorgeous friend that I’ve been begging him to introduce me to for literally years? Huaisang is friends with a scam caller?”

The man sitting next to Wei Ying slams his hand against the table. “This is your stupid scam caller boyfriend?” he demands. “You haven’t shut up about wanting to meet him for weeks, and he was easily accessible in person this entire time?”

“A-Cheng,” the woman at the table reprimands, rolling her eyes as she lays a hand on the man’s arm. She shoots a pointed look at Wei Ying as she continues, “Relax. We already knew Wei Ying is an idiot.”

“He is not,” Lan Zhan says reflexively, somewhat irritated that these people are insulting Wei Ying for no discernible reason. “Wei Ying is very intelligent.”

“Ah, Lan Zhan, it’s okay,” Wei Ying says with a laugh, though his cheeks have turned a soft shade of pink. “Jiang Cheng and Qing-jie are just like that. I always say they’re the grumpiest couple in the world. It’s like they really were made for each other!”

“Shut the hell up,” Jiang Cheng says, making an aborted movement towards Wei Ying before apparently remembering the child in Wei Ying’s lap and settling for clenching his hand in a fist instead.

“Language,” Wei Ying says with a sunny smile. “A-Yuan is a growing little boy who doesn’t need to hear words like that.” He turns to Lan Zhan and his smile somehow grows even bigger. Lan Zhan is torn between looking away to avoid being blinded by its intensity and being absolutely transfixed by how lovely it looks on Wei Ying’s face. “But enough of that. Lan Zhan, I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you, and it turns out you’re actually the same person I wanted to get to know anyway!”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan says. “I recognized you as well, from Nie Huaisang’s friend group.”

Wei Ying looks momentarily annoyed. “I’ve been asking him to introduce you to me for so long.” The displeasure seems to pass a moment later, when Wei Ying beams up at Lan Zhan again, and Lan Zhan has to remember how to breathe. “Of course, I should have guessed that Lan Zhan would find a way to introduce himself to me first!”

“Wei Ying was the first to introduce himself,” Lan Zhan reminds him, recalling their second phone call.

“You have such a good memory, Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying says with an almost dreamy sigh, his eyes shining. “I bet you remember all our phone calls.”

“He’s a scam caller,” the woman Wei Ying had addressed as Qing-jie – which means she must be Wen Qing, one of Wei Yuan’s cousins – interrupts. “It’s unlikely that he remembers everyone he calls, let alone what he says when he calls them.” She narrows her eyes at Lan Zhan. “So why, exactly, have you continued to call our home?”

“I am not a scam caller,” Lan Zhan says firmly, relieved to be telling the truth at last. “I am a student of music and literature.”

“Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says, shaking his head. “What do you mean you’re not a scam caller? The first time you called the house, you were trying to scam Granny.”

“I was not,” Lan Zhan says. “I was dared to make a prank call, and you made assumptions.”

Everyone is silent for a moment, and the only sounds come from the background chatter in the cafe. Lan Zhan is reminded of his brother, who’s still waiting for his tea, and sends a silent apology to him in his mind. “A...prank call?” Wei Ying finally asks. “So you were never really trying to steal our sensitive information?”

Lan Zhan nods. “Mn. Nie Huaisang provided the dare and the number.”

“Of course it was him,” Wei Ying mutters, seemingly to himself. “When I get my hands on him...” He trails off, before a new thought appears to strike him. “But Lan Zhan, that means he did kind of introduce us to each other after all! If it weren’t for him, then who knows if we ever would have met each other?” He pauses, his head cocked to the side. “You know, I always thought you didn’t try very hard to scam me. I thought maybe it was because we were so close, but now it all makes sense!”

“We are close,” Lan Zhan feels the need to clarify. “If I were truly a scam caller, I would not have tried to scam you after speaking with you as we have been.”

Wei Ying’s entire face flushes as Jiang Cheng snorts and Wen Qing looks simultaneously exasperated and amused. “Lan Zhan! How can you say something like that so easily?”

“Lying is forbidden,” Lan Zhan says matter-of-factly, which doesn’t quite answer the question, but reveals enough of his reasoning to have Wei Ying burying his face in his hands with a moan.

The noise must distract Wei Yuan from his game, because he looks up at Wei Ying and asks, “Baba, okay?”

“Yeah, kiddo, I’m okay,” Wei Ying says, smiling reassuringly at the boy. “Lan-gege here was just saying some very sweet things.” It’s Lan Zhan’s turn to get flustered by the sudden nickname, his ears heating up as Wei Ying grins innocently at him.

“Pretty-gege is Phone Call-gege?” Wei Yuan asks, and Lan Zhan is mildly impressed that such a young child was able to piece together a conversation he was only half listening to. He nods, and Wei Yuan claps his hands happily. “Good! Baba likes Phone Call-gege and Pretty-gege and it would be hard to pick but now those geges are the same!” He looks at Lan Zhan intently. “Gege will stay with us?”

“A-Yuan,” Wei Ying says hurriedly, “you shouldn’t – ahaha, Lan Zhan, don’t take him too seriously, I’ll explain to him later –”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan cuts him off pointedly. “A-Yuan. I must return to my brother for now.” Both father and son look visibly deflated, so Lan Zhan takes a deep breath and continues. “But I would like to see you again.”

“O-oh,” Wei Ying says, looking both hopeful and more stunned than he really should. Really, how could he possibly think that Lan Zhan wouldn’t want to see him again? “Well, of course you can see us again! Just give us a call any time, you already have our number, after all.”

“I would like your cell phone number,” Lan Zhan says before he can chicken out. “For convenience.”

“Yes, of course!” We Ying squeaks. Lan Zhan can relate – he had no idea he had it in him to be so bold. Wei Ying holds out his phone with the “New Contact” screen open, and Lan Zhan saves his name as “My Scam Caller” before sending a text to himself. “Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says breathlessly when he takes his phone back and sees the contact name. He stares at Lan Zhan with starry eyes. “You’re so funny. I like you so much.”

“I like you so much too,” Lan Zhan says automatically, and the corners of his mouth pull upward into a soft smile. Wei Ying gasps and smiles so radiantly that Lan Zhan doesn’t even care that they aren’t alone, that at least four sets of eyes are fixed on them right now – he’s under no illusion that his brother hasn’t been watching him this whole time.

They reluctantly say goodbye after Lan Zhan promises that he’ll meet Wei Ying and Wei Yuan tomorrow after his classes end. Lan Zhan feels light as he returns to his brother’s table, the tea in his hands completely cold by now.

Lan Huan smiles knowingly at him as he sits down. “So,” he says, “you were saying that meeting Wei Ying in person was unnecessary?”

Lan Zhan takes a sip of cold tea to avoid speaking, but he doesn’t need to – he knows that to his brother, his happiness level is at the point where he might as well be fully grinning. But he’s allowed to be this elated, he thinks. He’s allowed to not care about Nie Huaisang’s meddling or Lan Huan’s amused expression or Jiang Cheng’s attitude.

After all, he has Wei Ying’s number in his phone, a date planned for tomorrow, and a whole future together, just waiting for him to reach out and take it.

#wangxian #the untamed #writing

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fizzingwizard · 4 years

Text

I fell asleep as soon as I got home and didn’t get to write about Kizuna. xP So belatedly, here are my thoughts.

Warning: Spoilers for Digimon: Kizuna Last Evolution

So to start with, some context: I had a bad day at work. Not gonna go into details, but it was the sort of thing to put you out of the mood for seeing a movie, even one that’s a childhood treasure. I almost didn’t go.

In addition, because of what happened at work, I had to stay an extra hour, which meant I missed the first 25 minutes of the movie. I’m not sure how much story I actually missed - probably there was 10 min or so of trailers - but it’s possible I missed some framing. Usually the cute, fun, get-to-know-the-character moments happen in those beginning scenes, and I didn’t get to see those. When I walked in, Taichi and Yamato were having a meal together and talking about how their lives were all changing, but the Digimon stayed the same. So that’s where I’m starting from.

One more thing - I haven’t read the Kizuna novel. It sounds like if you did, you already know everything that happens. (Possibly reading the novel is more interesting than seeing the movie.) Sorry if I’m surprised by things y’all already knew!

For those who don’t like reading my long-winded posts:

Kizuna is what I would have expected from a Digimon sequel before Tri came out. That is, it’s predictable.

The art is quite good, except when it’s not.

There’s not enough of characters who aren’t named Taichi or Yamato.

Yamato is extremely COOL.

Koushirou has some good moments.

Tri is actually still canon, which I didn’t know - Meiko appears briefly in Kizuna.

It was fun to see the 02 kids, but they didn’t do anything special, although they did more than some Adventure kids.

It ends with the partner Digimon disappearing ‘forever,’ but also with Taichi putting in I think his thesis in politics specifically between the human world and the digital world. So everything seems geared to reach the 02 ending, where we know they were with their partners. So I guess at least we can headcanon that they find a way to reunite :/

OK so.

The art is really nice in this movie. Very smooth, very anime movie-like. I preferred Uki Atsuya’s designs and it did feel a little weird to go back to a more wide-eyed, innocent style now that the kids are older, but it was so lovely that I didn’t mind. Tri really lacked smoothness in the animation, so this was refreshing.

There are some times where the animations falters or some error happens - at least twice I noticed characters’ mouths moving without them saying anything, and there’s a scene where Taichi gets blown back by Eosmon’s attack and when he sits up his, um, backside is quite pronounced, like on-the-cover-of-Playboy-pronounced x’D Who knew Taichi was so thicc?

I liked in the beginning when they fly through cyberspace to take on Eosmon and it’s just like the cyberspace in Our War Game and Diablomon Strikes Back. The beginning was a bit promising. Omegamon is called on to help but his evolution breaks down, and fortunately Menoa knows all about why. There were some strong emotional moments when Taichi seizes the chance to help with a Digimon situation, and even stronger when they find out their partner Digimon are going to leave when they become adults and commit to a path (since apparently becoming an adult means you no longer have the endless possibilities of childhood). Digivolving speeds up the process.

Taichi and Yamato react very strongly. Other Chosen don’t seem in danger yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Takeru breathes a sigh of relief when he checks his digivice and realizes there’s no countdown, but Yamato’s and Taichi’s digivices are glowing with a countdown clock. Yamato screams and runs off to do anything he can to stop this. Taichi tries to deny it, but then Gennai appears in his apartment (which I think he cannot afford because we never see him turn on the lights :P) and tells him it’s all true and there’s nothing we can do about it. Then it’s bye-bye Gennai.

Oh, but before Gennai shows up Taichi is showing Agumon his apartment, and Agumon immediately finds his porn stash. I mean, that’s what you get for having magazines and DVDs instead of just using the Internet, Taichi, you moron. Teehee.

So Menoa and Imura convince the Adventure kids to “help” them, saying they’re trying to save the Chosen’s trapped consciousness. Yamato immediately figured out something’s not right, but pegs Imura as the likely suspect. However, he’s suspicious of Menoa too. Remember in Tri, when he sneaks after Nishijima and Himkawa, and gets them to talk? This is that only More. He lurks in stairwells, he goes without sleep, he researches online databases, he gets the 02 kids looking up details on Menoa, he follows Imura to some secret hideout covered in the typical secret agent decor of Papers Pinned To Walls With Illegible Writing.

As fun as it is to watch Yamato be all Men In Black, shouldn’t it... be... Ken? X’D Or are there many secret agents in space?

When Imura confronts Yamato, Hikari and Takeru have been taken prisoner. Somehow. They’re tied to chairs and Koushirou gets sent a message from Hikari’s phone saying in many different languages “Which one will be next?” So Taichi and Yamato hurry to the scene. At this point, Mimi has already had her consciousness abducted, and we now find out Jou’s KO’d too off screen.

Yamato sees Imura sitting on the stairs holding a gun. He lifts the gun and says “Takeru is already -” and I as like OMG THEY KILLED TAKERU!? but the gun is just... for show x’D Takeru has had his consciousness trapped. So has Hikari. Yamato makes good with Imura and they realize they need to go after Menoa, that she’s the one behind it all. Uh, too late though, because Menoa’s already moved against Koushirou, I think because she wants his information on Chosen Children around the world, and traps his consciousness as well. But not before Koushirou is able to track the location of Eosmon and leave the coordinates in a message for Taichi.

I don’t like Menoa. First of all, she’s a foreigner who likes to insert random English words where they’re not needed, and her accent is one of the worst I’ve ever heard x’D If you’re gonna cast someone who can’t speak a language as a speaker of that language, how about not have them actually speak it? But also, she’s not interesting. She had a Digimon partner - surprise! - who was a butterfly - surprise! - and who disappeared when she entered the path to adulthood - surprise! - and who she’s been grieving for ever since, so her big master plan is to somehow trap the consciousness of all Chosen Children around the world in another dimension where they can live inside their memories and never have to grow up. (The Digimon too.) She refers to it as her “Neverland.” None of this interests me. Yawn.

She is able to trap all the Adventure kids except Taichi, Yamato, and Sora. But don’t get excited about Sora not being trapped - Sora has decided not to fight anymore, and she sticks her decision the whole movie long. Sora is almost completely absent.

So now almost all the Adventure Chosen have been abducted and most of them didn’t even get to do anything, unless they were all being super awesome in those first ten-fifteen minutes that I missed. The 02 kids do not get trapped and when Eosmon copies start raining down around the world, they run around trying to stop them. Daisuke is adorable. Pretty much just what you’d expect. Iori is Iori. Miyako is her exuberant self. Ken is forgettable X’D I’m so sorry, Ken. Someone give him a hairstyle. My problem with the 02 kids is because, as much as it sucked that they never turned up after their inauspicious start in Tri, having them around isn’t really improving anything. Nostalgia, sure. But they’re too busy doing research and fighting to have those nice character moments we’d like to see. They do the shonen anime thing of Stating the Obvious and Promising to Unite As One and that’s it for their dialogue. They’re polite and take turns letting each other say the predictable line. At least we know Stingmon still calls his partner “Ken-chan.” <3

Taichi and Yamato use Koushirou’s coordinates to go after Menoa in her world. But not before Yamato reacts with irrational strength when Taichi suggests they save their trapped friends. Because saving them means digivolving, which means the process of losing their partners forever will speed up. “Taichi!! Are you okay with that??” Taichi’s like, “Um... no, but people are trapped and need to be rescued.” And Yamato’s like “Oh right.”

So they go and are attacked by Adventure-age versions of their trapped friends and also random Digimon. There’s quite a lot of blood?? Someone, I think Yamato, has a freaking Drimogemeon attacking him. He doesn’t get gored though lmao. Eosmon has a billion copies and they’re around the world going for Chosen Children. They bring out Omegamon and he gets his leg chopped off, whee. But both Digimon are physically intact when the evolution is broken.

Menoa is completely mentally unstable and fuses with Eosmon to become their “goddess.” Taichi sticks his hand out zombie-like under the pile of Digimon attacking him and yells at his Adventure-age friends “We must move on!” (ie, grow up). He is able to crawl to Hikari and blow her whistle with a huge breath.

This snaps everyone out of it. At this point I think “Okay! Big battle all together!” But nope. It’s still just Taichi and Yamato, who get new evolutions that look like Thundercats, and go after Menoa. While some song plays making it difficult to hear dialogue, they defeat Eosmon which makes the copies around the world disappear, and then they find Menoa trapped within her own memories of her partner, Morphomon, and rescue her as well. Menoa’s last scene is being handcuffed by Imura.

Then Taichi and Yamato go out separately with their partners and have a last conversation with them as the countdown clock is about to expire. Yamato plays his harmonica. Agumon tries to ply Taichi for food. We get Agumon’s vantage point looking up at Taichi and it’s like “wow you’re huge now.” Agumon and Gabumon both ask their partners what they’ll do tomorrow. Just as Taichi and Yamato think of an answer, they look and their partners are gone. Taichi and Yamato do some pretty impressive sobbing. Then we see them some time later hurrying on with their lives under symbolic cherry blossoms. The end!

The credits show scenes of the Chosen living their adult lives, the younger ones still with their partners, the older without. It ends with a peek at Taichi’s thesis, representing step one towards becoming a diplomat between the human and digital worlds. Like I said before, since we know they still have their partners in the 02 epilogue, it’s strange to me that they kept everything the same except that. So let’s headcanon that they’ll meet again o.O I guess

So if you read this far, you probably got the vibe that I wasn’t super impressed by Kizuna. But it’s not a bad movie. Tri pretty much spoiled me. I get that there are people who really don’t like Tri for various reasons, but to be honest, I think that even if you dislike it, you have to acknowledge what a gift it was. Six movies that gave every character something to do and mostly avoided the predictable stuff, not entirely, but much better than would be expected from an anime movie. Tri did so many interesting things. It’s got its flaws, a couple big ones, but I can never get past how it built everything up and what it resulted in.

But Tri’s number one strength comes from having six movies to tell the story. Kizuna has just one. If Tri had been condensed into a single movie - say we meet Meiko, the infection happens, she’s the origin, before the partners lose their memories Meiko asks the kids to kill Meicoomon, Daigo dies saving Taichi and then Taichi kills Meicoomon, the end - Idk if I would have liked that. It wouldn’t have gotten the build up it needed. I wouldn’t have learned to love Meiko. Stories need pacing, they need development, and more of each the more characters there are. Tri had the time to give us that.

I wasn’t expecting Kizuna to be like Tri - both the art style and all the info about it said otherwise - so I have to say that all in all, Kizuna is the movie I originally would have expected a Digimon sequel to be. It’s got That Plot that every fan read or wrote on fanfiction.net back in the day, where the kids lose their partners as a result of becoming an adult. I always hated that plotline because it was so predictable. If everyone can think of it, how can you call it creative?

But it is quite Japanese in a way, the appreciation for “the transience of things,” what they call 物の哀れ. Sora’s final ikebana display includes what I assume were cherry blossoms rising above a field of colorful flowers. Cherry blossoms represent this ephemerality in Japanese culture because of their short flowering time and how their appearance marks the beginning of spring. So in that way it’s all very striking and real. But I just personally don’t like it and never have. Also I think that for me, because I was so moved by Kokuhaku, there wasn’t much chance for this plot to have the same effect: Kokuhaku simply did it better.

I do think Kizuna is appreciable on its own and that if Tri weren’t a thing I’d have liked it better. I am not sure if I’m gonna go see it again. I might! I got a Koushirou clear file for going this week. (... The postcards we got for going to Tri were way better, though xP) So could at least go and collect more maybe.

But Kizuna has a big downside, which is that it’s just as obsessed with Taichi and Yamato as Tri was, but it’s even more felt due to the time constraints. At least with Tri, we got to see everyone do something at some point. In Kizuna, they don’t even try. Mimi, Jou, and Hikari are barely around and get their consciousness trapped early on. Takeru at least gets to join the initial fight with Eosmon, but I think that’s due to wanting to give a nod to Our War Game and maybe just because fans like Angemon. Then Takeru’s gone. Koushirou gets to be his brainiac self, I don’t really have a complaint about his treatment, except in the final battle where he’s just there. And Sora simply isn’t around period. Tri didn’t have the 02 kids, ok, that’s too bad... Kizuna has them but they’re boring and most of the Adventure cast doesn’t get to do much either. Is this really better, guys?

When you’ve got a cast this big, I don’t think you can do things the typical way. I’m an X-men fan, I should know. Lol.

That’s it for Kizuna! I’m still happy it exists, and have to admit that I might have had a slightly more positive take if I hadn’t been in such a bad mood from my day, so I hope that on a second viewing, whether I go to the theaters or wait to find it online, I will find more bits to appreciate.

#kizunaspoilers #digimon kizuna #digimon last evolution kizuna #digimon #kizuna

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mininky · 5 years

Text

Love is for the birds baby!

Summary: You refuse to believe in love. It’s a concept created by big corporations like hallmark to get sad saps like you to buy their shit. But it’s all fake. You’re convinced of that at least until a series of events with a certain tattoo artist who you loved to hate makes you question everything you’ve ever known.

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Yoongi x (fem) reader

Genre/Warnings: Romance, slow burn, fluff, comedy, smut warnings include: unsafe sex (always wear a condom), oral sex (male & fem receiving), multiple orgasms, spanking, light breath play, mentions of squirting. Non smut warnings for lots of cussing. Lots.

Word Count: 13.3K

A/N: A special shout out to @mzpandylu for inspiring me with such odd dialogue. Also challenge accepted, a quivering starfish is mentioned.

Love is a completely abstract and intangible concept to you, at least romantic love is. There are many forms of love. Familial love is a concept you sort of understand, let's just say that your home life wasn't the greatest but you do at least understand the concept. Platonic love you completely understand. But romantic love? You very secretly yearn to understand it, desperately trying to figure out how the fuck some people get so lucky that the spark happens. You've dated, sure. But try as you might none of them have ever made your head spin or your heart sing. Lust you get. You've had plenty of flings and even some longer relationships, but love? Love is for the birds baby.

You refuse, absolutely refuse, to admit that you have in any way shape or form an interest in this bizarre concept that is the investment and endeavor of romantic love. You've carefully hidden away all of your fanfics and all of your shojo mangas and all of the things that others would say is honestly completely normal to keep questions at bay. You know that your friends are interested in love, and unlike you they have no shame in admitting it. They talk about it all the time. They fall in 'love' with each man they date. But you're convinced that's not love. It's something more than like, sure you'll give them that but you're sure that it'll all end eventually. Love isn't sustainable because it's all a lie. Maybe you're too romantic at being romantic, perhaps you've just been suckered into all these stories into believing that a whirlwind romance is possible until one day the crushing realization that it wasn't possible occurred. That the sparks of electricity and burning hot embers of passion aren't sustainable and aren't indicative of love.

You were twenty, he was twenty-one. The two of you had been dating mutually for three years at that point, a lifetime in college years. Billy Johnson. Fucking Billy. He was smart and funny and he actually knew what a clit was, and he kissed you under the night stars and made you feel like you were in love. Maybe you were, but you like to think that the feelings you felt weren't actually that strong. It made the fallout easier. Which brings you to the fallout, that realization that romantic love is all a big corporate lie to sell shitty grocery store roses and cute snuggly teddy bears and dime back novels to sad sops like you. A marketing ploy. Not a reality. Fuck Plato for being the first to sell the idea of soulmates, and fuck Billy too. Billy Johnson was a cruel heartless asshole who fucked your best friend. And in one day you lost two loves, one romantic and one platonic. In turn, you gained a distinct hatred for romantic concepts and a world-weary view on relationships, waiting for the other shoe to drop every time you encountered someone new.

You dated again after that, but now at the young age of twenty-six, you've decided that it's time to give up. Or maybe you gave up after Billy. You can't say you've ever actually given it a real try after that if you're being honest. You know when to call it quits. You refuse, absolutely refuse, to be a corporate sellout. And your feelings are in no way shape or form reflective of the animosity at being broken up with by Johny last week because you were too 'sarcastic' in the middle of your vacation to Busan. Too sarcastic your ass. You'll show that motherfucker sarcastic. God, sorry, you're getting off track here. Where were you again?

Ah yes, love is for apparently everyone that isn't you. So you'll just be a cat lady. An affection earned entirely by ear scritches and feeding them. A reward system that makes sense. You take care of them and they tolerate you. Now that you understand. That makes sense. Why in the ever loving fuck would you try romance again when instead you can have a mutually beneficial understanding with something as cute as a cat that can't tell you 'I think you're a bitch' in a language you understand? Fuck Johnny, and Billy. And every other man for that matter.

You're ruminating in anger as you order your coffee, eyes staring straight into the young and timid barista as you slap down the change. Poor kid, it's not his fault but today you just hate the world. You try to smile but you're pretty sure that just scares him more if the way his eyes go large and round in fear is anything to go by. Christ, you need to work on your people skills. And you're totally not thinking that because of that dick weasel who you've decided will no longer be named.

Normally once you get your caffeine fix you're in a much better mood, but today the only thing you want to do is karate chop your own throat. Or maybe just play Red Dead Redemption 2 and kill a bunch of people in a completely legal way. Not online though, you really don't need another 13-year-old boy slurring about how much girls suck unless you want to unleash the crazy bitch inside of you to the point of no return. But unfortunately, you have bills to pay. Caffeine fixes to afford. Student loans to pretend you'll someday actually pay off except interest is a bitch. Which means going to work. Normally something you love, but today you're really not in the mood to edit another shitty sci-fi story where the physics of breasts go beyond the dudebro fedora lover that wrote the shitty thing.

Be an editor they said. You love books they said. You'll be great they said. They hadn't warned you that being an editor at a major publishing house still meant reading through a painful amount of crap writing that you would, in turn, make all pretty and nice and somewhat more presentable garbage for public consumption with no acknowledgment or credit for all the hours you spent trying not to bash your screen in with your face. At least you were close enough to walk to work.

You grab your piping hot venti quad shot vanilla latte (with soy) as you go back out into the frigid air. Your eyes are cast down on the pavement, trying not to bump into too many of the zombie state morning foot traffic as you make your way into the office. At least you have an office of your own, a salvation of peace and quiet away from prying eyes that allows you to wallow in self-pity safely. The rest of the day goes by in a blur, your normally somewhat antisocial personality becomes far more present as you hide away from even your beloved breakroom coffee pot to avoid too many interactions. You just knew that you would end up running into Susan. Nice gal, but she talks way too much and she set you up with Johnny no wait, the douche canoe. You forgot he must never be named again. The last thing you need is her bringing up how he dumped in you in the middle of your vacation.

You're also the last one to leave tonight. For someone who didn't really want to step foot into the building, you sure do seem to be having a hard time getting out of here. But there are deadlines to meet and your vacation meant that there's a pileup of work that needs to be done. That and you really don't feel like going into your empty apartment to binge watch on Netflix while you host another internal pity party.

By the time you're finally out the door and into the freezing winter night, you can feel exhaustion seeping deep into your bones. Or that might just be the joint pain that this super shitty winter is causing. That's another thing the world lied about, joint pain isn't just for old people. It's apparently also for future cat spinsters who hate everything no matter their current age. Your head is stuck on the last chapter you were editing, trying to make sense of how exactly you might be able to convince the author to scrap the whole damn thing politely as your nose picks up on the smell of a cigarette wafting over. Your stomach rumbles, brain shutting off as fingers twitch. God, it's been two years since you stopped smoking but it smells so painfully fucking good right now.

Your face whips up as you see the small trail of smoke wafting over to you. It's the guy from the tattoo shop, Min fucking Yoongi. You should've known. The guy is hot you'll give him that. Eyes just sharp enough to give him that bad boy image when paired with his full sleeve tattoos and the crawling cherry blossoms on his neck. The chronic scowl that says 'try me' in a way that oddly makes him hotter. Hair that looks like he spends way too much time on usually. Today however he's decked out in a beanie and black leather jacket with pants just tight enough to make you wish he would turn around and walk away. But in the last year since you've unfortunately gotten to know him you know that he's every bit as snarky, bitchy, and firey as you. He's also as much bite as he is bark, although so far you've never been the one he's pointed his bite at.

"(Y/N), I see you were working late again." He takes a lazy drag on his cigarette, eyes staring straight through you as his lips quirk up into a smirk.

"Yoongi." Your eyes narrow in on his, fingers twitching at your side as you bite down the incessant desire to beg for a cigarette. You won’t break, especially not in front of him. Just because you’ve had a series of bad days doesn’t mean you actually need that cigarette.

"Jesus, what's wrong with you? You seem even bitchier than normal. I guess this cold snap we're having is because the ice queen decided to control your body."

"Har-har-har little man." He bristles at the jab and you can't help but cackle internally at your small victory (pun completely intended.) "No for your information the world is a cruel, evil bitch and yet again I fell for its corporate seductions and evil capitalist ploys."

"Right, I'm going to nod my head and pretend I understood what that meant just so you don't kill me. Hey, so are you ever going to get that tattoo or not?"

You reach into the trenches of your memory, recalling months ago on a particularly good day when you told this same tiny Satan that you wanted to get a tattoo. He had seemed oddly impressed that you wanted a snake on your upper thigh and all was well until he told you that he pictured you wanting some shitty positive statement, most likely placed on your collarbone or ribcage and adorned with little doves or a dreamcatcher or some other shit. Bleh. That's when he first learned that you are possibly insane and most certainly a bit of a bitch. It's all been downhill with him since, each run in turning into a battle of insults.

He stubs out the little remaining part of his Marlboro before gesturing to the warm shop. "I've got an opening to do a consult if you wanna talk about it more."

Perhaps this is it, maybe this is what you need to do. Something different. Something that doesn't include your usual routine of wake up, caffeinate, work, work, work, and Netflix binge all in between minor anxiety driven breakdowns. Besides, it's just a consult, not the actual tattoo. "How do I know this isn't an elaborate plan to eventually see me half naked?"

Yoongi rolls his eyes as he opens the door to the shop, glaring at you as he speaks slowly. "You might be hot, but I have a feeling you'd be the type of girl to try to peg me with no lube. I prefer cuddling. Trust me, I'm not interested in getting you naked and seeing where it goes." You're thrown for a loop at that one, shuffling slowly behind him as your brain tries to make sense of it. You know you should be offended that he seriously thinks you wouldn't use lube, but Yoongi likes cuddling? The guy who scowls at life itself? The guy who you've watched physically throw out a neo-nazi who wanted a tattoo? The same guy who rides a motorcycle and refuses sugar in his coffee because he likes it as bitter as his very soul? Man, life is really fucking weird.

You follow behind him tentatively, shocked to hear rather calm hip hop station on. Maybe you stereotype too much but you pegged him (pun not intended this time) as a Lamb of God kind of guy, definitely not a Dean and PH-1 fan. He takes you over to his office, gesturing at a free seat before he sits down at his desk. Every surface is covered with intricate artwork. From Japanese style tattoos to Sailor Jerry flash pieces to pops of dystopian Disney paintings. "So, you still thinking about doing the same thing?"

"Yeah. Red Belly black snake. I'm thinking upper thigh/hip area." You stand up and move your coat to the side to point to the area.

"That's a good sized piece. Have you thought about adding anything more to it? Maybe some hyacinths on the left and right of the snake, I'm thinking in maybe a pale pink so it doesn't offset the red in the snake too much."

"You know what a hyacinth is?" You snort slightly, glaring back at him when he leans onto his elbows to shoot a look that he's probably hoping will kill you.

"I'm a tattoo artist. Do you know how many fucking flowers I have to draw every day? Swear to god I should open up a flower shop next door and make a killing with my amazing arrangements." This time you give a full-blown laugh, shocked to hear him mirroring quietly. In all the time you've kinda sorta known him you've never heard him laugh. It's nice, deep, and the gummy smile he gives has your heart doing little flip flops that you absolutely refuse to analyze.

You take just a beat too long to look at him, your head tilted slightly as you mentally murder the lone butterfly that has survived all of the anger you've culminated in the last few years. "How about a peony instead? I think it would look better."

"We can do that. With the size you're looking for and all the color work I'd guess that we're looking at at least 6 hours if we want to make sure it's done right. We can split it into two three hours sessions. I charge $200 an hour so you're looking at at least $1200, but you might want to be thinking to around the $1600 range just to be safe. I also require a $300 deposit usually just for a consult and another $300 later but I figure I can always hound you if you don't come in." He opens up his computer, clicking away for a moment before adding, "I have enough time to get started this Friday night if you want? At 8:00."

"Gee thanks for the trust. Yeah that all sounds good, I'm down."

He nods quickly, hands grabbing at some paper as he starts making drafting up some rough sketches. You try not to invade his space as you look over the paper, brain desperately searching for a small talk topic. God, you've always been bad at this. "So...how long have you been a tattoo artist?"

"Well I started my apprenticeship right out of high school at 18 so 10 years total, but as an actual artist only about 8 years." Interesting, so that would make him two years older than you. For some reason, you feel a need to put that in one of your mental files. "What exactly do you do at that giant office building down the street?"

"I work for a publishing house in there as one of their many editors."

Yoongi snorts, nodding his head as he keeps sketching away. "Yeah, I can see you working with books. Your creative insults suddenly make so much more sense."

"I'll take that as a compliment." You lean back into your chair, taking in your surroundings a little more closely before focusing unabashedly at the man before you. His tattoos are on full display now that he's taken off his jacket. Almost all are black and white with small splashes of reds and pinks laced mostly on his neck where cherry blossoms fall delicately off a branch. His eyes are cast in complete concentration, lower lip bitten as he works. There's something painfully sexy about the image. You almost want to burn it into your brain to use for late night consumption.

You aren't sure how long the two of you sit there in silence, but it's comfortable. There's something soothing about listening to the way his markers glide over the paper as soft music, buzzing tattoo guns, and chatter filters in fuzzily through the closed door. You can feel yourself finally start to relax, all of the earlier rage and grudges held at the world slipping away momentarily as you enter a near-meditative state just watching him work.

Finally, he glances up, a smile on his face as he pushes the paper over the desk to you. It's beautiful, a little rough around the edges without the finishing touches but it's better than anything you thought of. "Wow, Yoongi this looks great."

"It's just a rough drawing. I still need to work on some of the other touches but if you're good with that I'll get started on making the transfer later this week."

"Yeah..." You words are quiet as you look at the picture, elation growing in your heart. You might turn into a cat lady, but at least you'll be a badass one. "Okay, so seriously though do you want me to put down the deposit now? I have no problem with that."

"Nah, don't sweat it. Oh, but I do need your full name and number to actually book it. And don't give me some shit about this being a ploy for your number." You roll your eyes before giving him the information. Standing up slowly when he opens up the office door and leads you back out to light snowfall. "Alright, see you this Friday (y/n)."

"See you Yoongi. Thanks again." As you turn back to send a smile something painfully familiar stirs in your brain when he flashes that gummy smile and sends you on your way.

---------------Friday----------------

By the time Friday rolls around you've been through a whole litany of emotions. You're of course excited about the tattoo, that's not the problem. No the source of all evils is Min Yoongi. Sexy. Witty. Can handle your sarcasm. Enjoys cuddling. He's plagued your thoughts, gummy smiles invading your daydreams and inky tattoos hovering over you at night. It's been a long time since you've actually crushed on anyone. Dating as an adult is an entirely different experience. Usually, you know someone who knows them or met them on tinder and you're just praying that they aren't a secret serial killer and that you share enough interests to talk in between getting railed while praying for an orgasm. At least, that's been your shitty experiences anyway. You know that it isn't always the case considering that just about all of your friends have gotten magically engaged or married recently. But Yoongi? There's something about him that stirs up all of your previously assumed dead thoughts on love. All of the secret romantic pinings combines with lust in a painful swirl but luckily the thoughts you have of him are usually fleeting.

You step forward into the tattoo shop after grabbing a bite to eat, two warm cocoas in your hand as you try not to freak out that the big event is finally here and you'll be face to face with tiny, sexy, tattooed satan yet again. The man behind the counter looks over at you, and you can't help but wonder for a moment if being really good looking is a requirement to work here. Deep dimples, sunkissed skin, glasses perched on his nose.

"Hi, do you have an appointment?" You shake your head yes, staring at the floor for a moment before finally squeaking out that you're there to see Yoongi.

"Ay, (Y/N)'s here!" He shouts out towards Yoongi's office and you see him strolling out just a moment later.

"Jesus Joon, you've been spending too much time around Hobi. I think the whole shop could hear you." Yoongi steps around the desk eyeing the other cup before you hand it out to him.

"It's just cocoa, I didn't lace it. This time. Also, it's made with soy milk." You can hear the man called Joon laughing in the background as Yoongi slowly grabs the cup and squints at it before taking a tentative sip.

He gives a small nod that you assume is to signify satisfaction before he starts walking over to a curtained-off section in the back. "You ready to get started?"

"Yep, all ready!" You take a sip of the cocoa and sit down on the tattoo chair slowly.

"Alright, just check over this transfer and let me know what you think before you undress so I can put it on." You look over the image, heart warming up slightly at the brush of his fingers before you finally nod a silent affirmation. "I need words babe, is it good or not?"

You can feel yourself bristle at the tone, sighing wearily before you finally bite out, "Yes, babe, it's perfect."

"Cool. I'll leave you to get undressed, I'll be back in just a moment." The one shitty thing about the placement of your tattoo is that it will require not only pants to come off but underwear too. Before nerves can take over you strip quickly, laying back down on your side before you can think about it too much. Getting undressed faster than you can sneeze was probably a bad idea though because now you're forced to just sit there with your ass cheeks freezing and mind shutting down while you wait for him to come back. After a minute you hear him announcing that he's coming in before opening up the curtain.

Your eyes are trained on the floors. Jesus, you wish you could get your tiles to glisten the way their's does. They must mop a thousand times a day, you can't even see a speck of dirt in the grout. The sound of him clearing his throat has you jolting a bit before turning around to glare at the sound of his laughter. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just going to disinfect the area and put the transfer on then I'll have you take a look and let me know what you think of the placement." You decide to go mute apparently as your only response is a feeble thumbs up before quickly turning to resume your ever so interesting study on what floor cleaner they use. Probably Fabuloso.

You force yourself to stay stock still when you feel his warm hands on your hip as he cleans the area and peels the transfer on before he gives a light tap to your thigh. "Alright, take a look." With all the grace of a hospice patient you slowly swing your legs off and walk over to the mirror, trying to not pay attention to the fact that you're awkwardly half naked in front of arguably the hottest man who's admitted he enjoys cuddling before you finally relax at the sight of the transfer. "Man, this is going to look rad. Alright little satan, do your thing!"

"Little Satan? Really? What happened to all your usual creative bitchiness? What was it you called me that one time?"

"Oh! Degenerate Malfoy with a nicotine problem? Or was it wannabe colon inspector?"

"Neither actually, it wasn't even something you called me now that I remember it. You once told me 'Ah I see the fuck up fairy decided to mess with my life and force me to see you yet again.' That's a good one by the way, I've used it a few times."

"Glad I could help, but I wish I could copyright it so you could pay me the rights to use it." You try not to get too nervous as you hear him slip on his gloves and the needle buzzing ominously behind you. The pain won't be that bad right? "Relax, you'll be fine." His voice for once isn't laced with sarcasm. It seems that even the formidable Yoongi has a professional voice that he employs occasionally.

After what feels like ages filled with anxiety-ridden thoughts you feel the needle prodding away, moving quickly while leaving tingling and ever slight burning sensations in its wake. It does hurt, but not to the point of being unbearable. "See it's not so bad, scaredy cat." You resist the urge to turn around and pummel him in his annoyingly handsome face.

"If you weren't tattooing me right now I'd choke you out."

"Kinky, but I prefer a chick to at least buy me a drink first."

"Already did jackass, the cocoa remember."

"Huh, you did didn't you. Okay, well it's still off the table for you. You'd probably keep going until I actually died."

"Hell misses it's little satan though, I'd just be helping you reunite with all your friends."

"Do you have a snarky remark for everything princess?"

"Nah, depends on the day and the person. You're a special one Min Yoongi, something about you makes me want to bludgeon things."

"Oh, what a sweet compliment. Isn't that how people feel when things are too cute too?" You don't even need to look over to know that he's smirking as you flip him off.

"Or annoying." The rest of the three hours the two of you spend going back and forth with each other to the point that some of the other artists passing by started to call out their two cents in. By the time you're done, you have the outline complete and some of the black shaded in. The rest will be done in just two weeks time at his next opening.

-------------2 weeks later-----------

Oddly enough for once, you haven't seen Yoongi outside during his normal smoke break time when you leave work for the last couple of weeks. You also haven't seen him getting his normal disgusting black coffee either. Not that you've been looking for him. Okay...so maybe you have. There's just something about him other than the really good looks you like. In one sense it's almost like walking on a blade the entire time you're with him, never sure when he's going to make a jab. On the other hand, he's also easy to talk to. In a way where everything is oddly comfortable even with this underlying lurking sexual tension. Or maybe that's just in your head. Maybe there's no sexual tension and it's just been so long since you last had a good lay (the dingleberry boy who shall not be named was terrible) that you're starting to hallucinate. Which is a rather real possibility.

This time when you walk in with another cocoa it's with far fewer nerves. No, you're ready for the battlefield and only tremble ever so slightly when you have to face him with a bare ass in his face.

"Alright sunshine, let's finish this bad boy up." Is all he states before he gets right into it, ever the professional. By the time he's finished, you're 110% positive that you were just imagining the sexual tension because his eyes don't even wander as you check the tattoo in the mirror. Which is a good thing right? Because you're supposed to be on your fast track to nundom not trying to bag the super hot tattoo artist who works near you.

There's a bizarre sinking feeling in your heart though when you realize the tattoo is done and you won't be able to see him for extended periods of time on such a good excuse. An expensive excuse, but an excuse nonetheless. Now, however, with your beautiful, intricate, and very sore skin you'll have to go back to happenstance run-ins. You think that maybe, just maybe, if the somewhat hollow looking smile he gives you when you leave is anything to go by that he doesn't really want it to end either. But that's probably just the few embers of hope remaining in you that needs to be crushed out.

--------1 month later---------

You've spent another night overworking yourself. This time there wasn't really a good reason to either. You're not only on schedule but way ahead and yet you've decided to just keep busting through work until dusk begins to fall and the shitty flickering streetlights by you turn on. Almost every night for the past few weeks you've been working longer days and as much as you hate to admit it it's to try to keep yourself from wallowing too much at night about your impending lonely doom. Tonight will be different though. Tonight you'll ruminate and bask in the fucked up world with your dear old friend Irene as she's finally decided to have a night away from her obnoxiously good looking fiance Taehyung. She might not be able to relate to your doom and gloom sentiments on life but she's always a good friend for a pick me up.

You set off in the opposite direction of your usual route, winding through the chilly streets until you get to your favorite bar that serves oddly impressively delicious fried chicken. The moment you step in you notice Irene sitting at one of the few tables at the place, glaring at a man who clearly can't take a hint. Marching over you grab the seat across from her before biting off a 'Jesus how much aftershave do you use? Did you put in on your asshole too or something?' Knowing he's now outnumbered, and out bitched, the two of you watch the man leave without protest.

"You know you really should be careful. People are crazy, aren't you ever afraid that you might get hurt or something?"

You shrug nonchalantly before sighing at the doe eyes she gives you. "Irene, I love you but I'm not curtailing my inner bitch just because some douche might murder me. There are countless absurd ways I could die, if I have to check myself in fear of that then I just let all those asshats continue being menaces to society without being put in their shitty sad places."

"So what you're like a superwoman with a bad attitude only you save the world one dick at a time with well-timed insults?" You know that voice, you know that voice all too well. Your ears perk up and your jaw drops open as you whip around to come eye to eye with Yoongi. For one whole month, you haven't seen him even with perfectly timed coffee runs around his smoke breaks. Not that you learned his habitual schedule or anything. Nope. Nothing like that at all. Just coincidence is all. And you just happened to notice he wasn't there. That's all.

"Yoongi!" You hate the way your voice goes up an octave, excitement making your voice quiver like a little puppy reuniting with their owner after a short separation. You can already feel the heat bursting on your cheeks as his head tilts, eyes watching you carefully before he cracks a lazy smile.

"Um, (y/n), who is this guy? Do I need to mace him or something?" Irene whispers to you, but just loud enough that as Yoongi steps closer he can hear her.

"Please don't mace me. I promise, I only bite if you're into that."

"Hey, watch it, mister. She's a taken woman." Reluctantly you wave your hand over the free seat to invite him over before looking back at Irene. "Irene this is Yoongi, Yoongi this is Irene. Yoongi did my tattoo for me."

"Oh, you got a tattoo? Can I see it?"

"We'll definitely get a free round of drinks if you show it off, that's for sure." You can't help but smack Yoongi's shoulder, shocked at the sturdiness of it. Considering how slight he looks you really didn't think that he worked out but now your mind is starting to wander.

"Yeah well, kind of can't show you in public considering I have to take my pants off. Oh! But I do have some pictures!" You pull out your phone, swiping through until you find one and turning it to show her.

"Wow, that looks like it hurt. It looks great though you did a good job..." Irene pauses, eyes going wide with panic before she finally adds, "Yoongi."

"Thanks." He almost looks shy and you can feel your heart breaking. Yeah, typical to have the hot dude fall for your friend and not you.

"Did you order drinks yet?" At the shake of Irene's head, you're grateful to have an excuse to flee to the bar not rushing to grab the bartenders attention and face falling slightly when he sidles up next to you immediately. The world is a cruel place. You want them to take their time and they're there immediately. You want them there right away and suddenly so do seventy other people. Luck. Or murphy's law maybe. Whatever.

You huff out a sigh before plastering a smile on your face, "Two cranberry vodkas, please. Tall and stiff." The bartender nods as you slap down a twenty, praying that perhaps he'll at least make the drinks slowly but oh no this man must be one of those bartenders that enters fucking speed competitions because he's sliding both drinks over before you can fucking blink. Unbelievable. The service at this place is just too good and it's making you twitch slightly in irritation.

Trying not to huff, you grab the two drinks and make your way back to your table. Heart sinking even more at the sound of Yoongi being strangely amicable to Irene. This was not the night you wanted at all. You wanted to get drunk and hang out with Irene and forget about how shitty boys are, not have glaring reminders everywhere about how the capitalist ploy that is romance will suffocate you to death. Okay so maybe you're being a little melodramatic. A lot. Whatever. It's your pity party, you can cry if you want to.

When you finally sit back down and hand Irene her drink you can't help but guzzle yours back right away, ignoring the acidic burn in your throat and the quirked eyebrow from Yoongi.

"So...(y/n)...any new boys after Johnny?" Irene refuses to look you in the eyes as she asks, smart enough to sit just out of reach from your possible rage.

"I refuse to fall victim to the bullshit masquerade we call love yet again. I've called it quits. I'm just going to be a spinster with a million cats who will inevitably be forgotten until my landlord finds that mittens, my favorite cat, has eaten my left asscheek for sustenance after my untimely death."

Irene bawks, trying immediately to rush into lengthy reasoning as to why you shouldn't stop searching for love as Yoongi nearly falls off his chair laughing so hard. At the end of Irene's dialogue, Yoongi wipes away a stray tear before shooting you a gummy smile. The kind that makes you want to hate him less, but you refuse to. Because that's dangerous territory. Territory you've sworn to never cross again. "You don't actually mean all that bullshit right? Love is natural, it's needed. It's biologically ingrained in us to be social creatures and affectionate."

"Don't you judge me and mitten's life path!"

"You don't even have a cat!" Irene looks exasperated as she takes a sip of her drink, silently judging you. "Listen, I get it. You've been fucked over a million times by terrible guys. But that doesn't mean that the whole world is that way." At the withering look you send her Irene sighs, shaking her head but falling mute. You feel a little bad that yet again you've ruined the mood so you try to lighten it up a bit, reaching over to pinch her cheek lightly.

"Thanks, Irene. I'm sorry. I'm just...I don't know. I've been in a bit of a mood." You bit your tongue from further sarcasm at the pointed look she gives you. "Things haven't been so hot lately. I'll get over it. In like a decade. But you know that's better than never." You can feel Yoongi peering at you, analyzing you from the corner of your eye.

"Why though? Why are you so convinced that love is such a sham?" Yoongi's words don't seem to hold any judgment or his usual quiet hostility, instead just honest curiosity.

"Well if they don't cheat on me they always grow tired of me. I'm a bit too much of a bitch for my own good. I should really work on that." You shrug, staring at your almost empty glass as you try to shush the self-loathing thoughts that want to invade.

"I like that part about you though. You've got spunk doll, it ain't a bad thing. You just need to find a guy who can match it." He smirks at the way you go quiet before leaning slightly into you at the table. "I don't know, I think I'm up for the challenge if you are." He grabs a card from his pocket, placing it next to your cup as he stands up. "That's my cell on there. Text me sometime babe." You hate the way your brain shuts down, playing back the way he calls you babe until all senses fail.

"You should do it. You know he was asking about you the entire time you were getting drinks?" You feel your heart sink even further at the realization that you judged the situation too quickly before suddenly soaring at the idea that Min Yoongi asked you out on a date. You. Snarky, bitchy you found a match in hell. Capitalist ploys be damned! You'll at least find out if he's cocky for a reason. If you don't chicken out that is.

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

Later that night after all the alcohol has left your system and you're snuggled up under enough blankets to possibly suffocate you, you find yourself staring at your phone. You entered in his contact almost immediately after he left at the urging of Irene. Apprehension has held you back from actually sending anything though. Your fingers hover over the screen, bottom lip stuck between your teeth as you suck in a breath. What have you got to lose?

[You]: Hey...

[Yoongi]: (Y/N)?

[You]: Yeah

[Yoongi]: This is unusual. I'm used to quippy remarks. Don't tell me you've grown soft?

[You]: Fuck off. I'm just confused that's all.

[Yoongi]: What's there to be confused about? You're funny, you have no problem with giving it right back to me, and you have a fantastic ass

[You]: Well that was blunt

[Yoongi]: I'm an honest man [Yoongi]: So listen, about that date, I wanna take you out Sunday

[You]: That's in like a day from now

[Yoongi]: Yeah well I've wanted to take you out from the first time you told me off for smoking on the street. And that time you told me you were going to shove my tattoo needle up my ass solidified it.

[You]: You have some odd kinks sir

[Yoongi]: Is that a yes babe?

[You]: Hmmm....yeah I'll go

[Yoongi]: Great send me your address I'll pick you up at noon

[You]: You aren't going to chop me up in a million pieces and feed me to the fishes right?

[Yoongi]: No I prefer my women in one piece

You send over your address, butterflies swarming around as you squeal into a pillow before sending him a quick good night. You don't need to embarrass yourself by saying something off the wall as exhaustion starts to set in. Like "I want to kiss your face" or "Fuck me in your office." Yeah, that's not good pre-date material. You need to keep it kosher for now.

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

You had spent all day Saturday cleaning to keep your nerves at bay. Not that you can really tell much in your closet after you ransacked it. And not that you can tell you went through all of that energy just to pick a simple oversized black hoodie and jeans. It's too cold to go all out anyway. You've been staring in the mirror, double checking your hair and makeup a thousand times as you hear the doorbell chime through the apartment. It's a good thing no one else is around to see you nearly trip over yourself as you slip on your shoes and answer the door. "Hi!"

Yoongi is wearing his usual black leather jackets, skin-tight black jeans, and cat-like smirk. "Hey. You ready?"

"Yeah, oh just let me grab a jacket." Pulling one off the rack you shut the door behind you, locking the door before shuffling behind Yoongi. Much to your surprise, he slows down until your right next to him, clasping his hand around yours and smiling as he silently leads you to his car.

"What, no motorcycle today?"

"Nah, I figured you'd strangle me and we'd crash. Dieing on the first date just seems tragic. We need to get on date number five at least." He shoots you a wink as he opens your door, shutting it lightly behind him as he jogs around to the other side.

"So...where exactly are you taking me?"

"You're a curious little thing today, aren't you? Well at first I was thinking something simple like coffee, but let's be honest that's overplayed and boring. So then I thought about going to an aquarium just so I could make a joke about feeding you to the fishes but then I thought nah too easy. So I spent more time than I'll tell you plotting. And I realized exactly where we needed to go. We're going to the river for a picnic. Something that's oddly ordinary and you'll secretly love but no dude's ever actually done for you. Am I right?"

You're at a loss. You certainly didn't expect him to think this through to this extent. Honestly, no guy has ever cared this much about a first date before. You figured that only existed in stories and movies at this point. "You're certainly right. Isn't it a little cold for a picnic though?"

"I have brought plenty of cocoa and jjigae to keep us warm, don't you worry your pretty little head about it." You can't help but fidget slightly, nerves boiling over until his hand rests soothingly on your thigh and you feel yourself melt. Or maybe boil over until you malfunction. But that's something to dwell on at a later time.

It doesn't take long after that until you pull up at the river. During springtime it's packed, everyone comes out to drink under the cherry blossoms, but right now it's serenely quiet. You're almost the only people in sight save the zealous runners and elderly couples strolling through on their daily walks. When you try to help set up the blanket and food Yoongi refuses, so instead you watch him meticulously lay everything out. Maybe this is a post-season Christmas movie because you swear you can feel your dead cold heart grow as you watch him. It's an oddly domestic feeling. Certainly romantic. Painfully sweet. And for once all of your usual bitter snarkiness has drowned it's self in the river to leave you a heart-eyed mess.

"Come on, come sit. I told you before, I don't bite unless you're into that."

"I'm into that, but right now I'd rather have cocoa and jjigae." You watch him pour out your drink as you sit down, carefully handing you the piping hot drink before pulling the still boiling soup out of the basket.

"Alright, so I figured that being you'd probably refuse to tell me too much out of wariness. So I propose that we play 21 questions. What's your favorite food?"

"Tofu, in all it's many forms. What's your favorite color?"

"Black, just like my coffee."

"And your soul." You duck as he tosses a napkin at your face, laughing at the gummy expression he sends your way.

"Aish. Okay, next question, what are your hobbies?"

"Reading and video games. Why'd you become a tattoo artist?"

"I love drawing, but I especially love the idea of a living canvas. It's just so interesting. Although I hate that I don't usually get to control the outcome of it, some people have god awful tattoo ideas. Most people actually. I'm at least booked enough now that I can refuse those ones without worrying about my bank account too much. Why are you so afraid of love?"

You weren't expecting that question. You figured he'd keep things easy but then again you should have known better. Of all the many ways you can describe the man before you easy isn't one of them. "Trust problems I guess. I didn't have the best home, parents kicked me out young and we haven't talked since so that's probably at the root of it all. I don't know though, never seen a shrink about it so that's just an educated guess. Add all the boys that I've dated either dumped me or cheated on me and it makes it tough to believe that love, especially romantic love is real. Why do you believe in it?"

"Because love is the very essence of humanity. The best way to fight a shitty system that tries to keep us all down is through love. It's not power or money or any of that other bullshit they tell us we need. It's love. We all just need someone who understands us. It doesn't need to be a ton of people, just one who really gets us and bam! Everything's good. Sometimes those people come and go, but that doesn't make the love you held for that time discounted. It just means that now you need to find someone else who understands you." He chooses his words carefully at first, but when he sees that you're held in rapt attention he grows passionate. Eyes blazing as if to dare you to disagree. And suddenly you're seeing the world through a different lens. Here you had been chalking romance up to marketing, which isn't entirely untrue but that's just one part of it. But love the way he sees it? To him, love isn't about marketing or money it's just about human connection. And suddenly you're starting to understand that abstract intangible concept. You also realize that what you were looking for wasn't love, but perfection. You didn't want to do all the work, you just wanted all the pieces to magically fall into place for you and gave up when expectations weren't instantly met. "Next question, why'd you say yes to this date?"

"Because you're hot." You roll his eyes at the exaggerated wink he sends you before eating a bit of the jjigae. "Okay so that was a part of it but mostly I was curious. You're this weird enigma Yoongi. At first, I thought I had you all figured out. Tough dude with tats and a motorcycle who probably has a slew of booty calls waiting for him. But then you said you liked to cuddle and I got curious. And then I realized that I didn't have the whole picture, just a glimpse. Why in the world did you ask me out? And for the love of god don't say 'dat ass.'"

"Okay but dat ass though." The way he laughs full heartedly, slapping his knees at the sight of your glare almost makes you not elbow him. Almost. But you have a reputation to uphold. "You've just got this thing about you. You're like a fortress. A puzzle. I guess that same idea of wanting to figure a person out is the same reason why I'm so attracted to you. You see at first glance you seem to be just brutally honest, but then when you look closer it's easy to see that you're vulnerable. Fragile. Callous due to a previous naivety that landed you in shit places by the sounds of it. I like that you have spirit, you aren't afraid to tell people to fuck off. But what I like most of all is under that there's this heart of gold. At least if your interaction with your friends is anything to go by you do." Fuck, you think you have something in your eye. It's definitely not your long extinct tear ducts learning how to work again. Nope.

You can feel his thumb brush a stray tear, hand cupping your face as you automatically nuzzle into the warmth before he clears his throat. "Next question-"

Before he can finish the question your lips are on his. They're chapped but still soft, plush under yours. And suddenly that tailwind romance you thought was all fake feels so real as a spark of electricity zaps you. Or maybe that's more carnal, but whatever it is it feels so right. As if his lips were made to be against yours. And when you feel him kiss back roughly, hands weaving through your hair as he pulls you in closer you know that he must be feeling the same thing. You're floating. High in the clouds. Weightless. The sound of someone running past finally has the two of you breaking apart slowly. "Right next question, can we do that again?"

This time there's a fire behind the kiss as your hands grab onto his jacket and his tongue slips into your mouth. This time you know it's more carnal. Burning bright. Passionate. Hungry. Needy. But before it can devolve into public debauchery you reluctantly pull back, blush creeping up your neck as you see his molten brown eyes focused on you in a way that clearly states that he is indeed as dangerous as he looks. At least if your definition of dangerous is sex right out in the open at a very public park anyway.

"My turn. What's your favorite music?"

The rest of the date goes by too quickly and you learn about everything Yoongi related and he learns everything about you. You're positive that you've never learned so much about a person on a first date, or hell even by the third. You've learned his birthday, his favorite music, all about his friends, how he actually co-owns the tattoo shop and how that all happened. You've learned about how he came from a poor family and how he makes sure to send a little bit each week to help out on top of the apartment he bought them. Suddenly the $200 an hour fee makes a whole lot more sense.

By the time you're pulling back into your apartment, the two of you have already planned a date for next Sunday. And as he puts the car in park you can't hope but wish that somehow it was already magically next week. But when he pulls you in for a heated kiss and presses his forehead against yours before sending you off you're too much on cloud nine to pay any attention. You'll have to add that Yoongi is certainly the best kisser you've ever known to your mental file.

-------------1 week later---------------

Well, it's official. You're nuts. You'd like to blame Yoongi but let's be honest, all you needed was a little help to push you over the ledge. Except the problem is that before you were very sure of life. Completely comfortable with anger, bitterness, and believing that everything inevitably fails. And in some sick twist of fate, his words have been playing back in your head over and over every single day for the last week. Before you thought it was all or nothing. Love was there or it wasn't. You get one shot at true love and if it fails then it never existed. Except now your world is flipped upside down.

Perfection is a fruitless endeavor. An impossible task. One with zero rewards. And what you've been looking for all this time is perfection. A perfect love. A whirlwind romance. But if it's perfect it's fake. It's all a lie. An elaborate performance. Which is mostly all you've ever gotten, granted usually in short-lived moments but sometimes longer. And when the curtains closed each time you thought, "this show wasn't a real show. I'll go to a better play next door." Except the play was still very much real. A part of you. A part of them. Which means that love is indeed real it's just not always very grand. But when it was there it was beautiful, you were just blind and ignorant in even the good moments. Unaware of the magic in small acts. But with Yoongi suddenly you want to see all the small acts. You want to not just see the show but be a part of it. Go behind the scenes with him. See how this plays out.

Which is completely fucking nuts. You're already talking about your entire worldview changing and the concept as something as obscure as falling in love with a man you barely know and have only been out on a date with once. It makes you afraid. It makes you feel free. It gives you options. It's like being able to use all of your senses at once for the first time. Except that's scary because there's too much coming at you at once. But it's equal parts exhilarating. You've been through every single possible emotion a person could have every day.

By the time your second date finally arrives, you're suddenly calm about it all. As if everything is right and the puzzle pieces to life are aligning and maybe just maybe you have a chance to see things differently. And while before you would have rather poked your eyes out than face rejection again this time you just want to see where this takes you. You aren't thinking so much about the end results, rather the journey.

Tonight Yoongi is taking you out to his favorite record store. While you don't own a record player you can certainly appreciate the aesthetics of vinyl. There's something oddly charming about them, even if it is ridiculously impractical in the modern world of space-saving technology and cramped apartments. Perhaps the impracticality of it is apart of the appeal, however. This time you aren't tripping over yourself to get to the door. But that's because you're standing right by it giving yourself a pep talk. Not that he needs to know that of course. After smoothing down your hair and doing a quick checklist in your head your pulling the door open.

This time he's wearing an oversized sweater but again the same tight black jeans. The man must have stock in them. Not that you blame him, it looks good after all. "You look great, babe." Heat blossoms on your face as his eyes scan you from head to toe, that signature lazy smile adorning his face before he takes your hand in his and leads you to his car.

"Still no motorcycle?"

"Nope, still don't trust that you won't freak out and kill me accidentally. Why? You seem oddly keen on the bike."

"It just looks fun that's all."

"It is. There's nothing better than a good ride, and you can take that any way you please." He winks at you, laughing when you scoff and punch his shoulder. If any other guy said that line you would have jumped out of the now moving vehicle, but for some reason when he says it you turn into putty. Maybe it's the charm of being absurdly good looking. Or that tattoos. The bad-boy charm. Or maybe it's because in all his infinite aloof glory he's just Yoongi. Comfortable and confident in his own skin without being sleazy.

The record store is quiet, playing a selection of upbeat jazz. Your brain is trying to figure out the tune until you finally snap your fingers and softly say, "Giant Steps!"

"You know jazz? Are you a secret Coltrane fan or something?" Yoongi is giving you that look. The look that says he's clearly analyzing you. Studying you. Dissecting your brain as you speak.

"Sort of. I dated this guy in college for years, he was a jazz major. His thesis was going to be on Giant Steps, it's been years since I've heard it though. Are you secretly into jazz, Min Yoongi?"

You watch him shake his head no as he scans the records before pulling one out. Outkast, ATliens. A great album, one that invokes nostalgia. He quickly puts the record under his arm before he continues searching. "Nah, I'm more of a blues guy myself. Nina Simone. Etta James. Bill Withers. The building blocks to all modern music. At least hip hop, R&B, and all the subgenres of rock."

"You know an awful lot about music considering you're a tattoo artist. What's the background story on that?" You peruse next to him as you speak, flicking through the music slowly.

"Once upon a time I wanted to be a rapper." There's something far off about his voice. As if he's reliving the memories. A gentle smile on his lips as he shakes his head as if to push them back into their little file in his brain to not be disturbed for some time. "But I had bills to pay. I'm not complaining though. I love music, adore it. But I love what I do too. It's almost like trying to pick between your two children. You might actually have a favorite, but it changes depending on the day."

"Let's hope you only have one kid then."

"Nah, I'm going to have a horde of mini Mins. Take over the world with them and overthrow capitalism. It's my diabolical plan to get housing prices back to normal and get student debt forgiveness."

"And how exactly do you plan to have this army of darkness? Polygamy? A sex cult?"

"God that just sounds exhausting. I can hardly keep up with you let alone more women. No, I think I'll actually stick with two children. You know, just so on tough days I can look at one and go 'ah yes today you didn't fuck up.'" You pray that he doesn't look over to see your cherry red face. He in a way made it sound like he's thought about children with you. Clearly, that's not what he means but now your mind is wandering. Mini mins. They'd be cute. Probably slightly evil but cute nevertheless. They might be born glaring though. Or smirking instead of crying.

"What happens when they both fuck up?"

"Then I've got you." Fuck, he was implying you. Holy shit. Holy shit. Act natural. Don't look at him. "Ooh look! They have a Frank Ocean Blonde vinyl. Unopened this bad boy is worth a few hundred. Man, I can't believe how cheap they're selling it for." He tucks it under his arm before cataloging through some more. For a short while the two of you work in silence, falling into a pattern that when you stare at one for just a little too long he's plucking it out of your hands and refusing to listen to you protest.

By the end of it all, the two of you are walking out with a dozen records after learning a wealth of information on all of Yoongi's favorite artists. You also learned that once upon a time his rap name was 'Suga.' Which led to you immediately and passionately singing Sugar by System of the Down quickly increasing in volume until he clamps his hand over your mouth and stares at you with the rage of a thousand suns. Totally worth it though. Especially when the dude behind the counter picks up where you left off.

Dinner goes by too quickly. You wish you could freeze time, force it to slow so you can languidly explore his world. It's with a heavy heart that you unbuckle your seat belt before leaning over and pulling him into a heated kiss. One that makes your head spin again and proves that the first date wasn't a series of flukes. Nope, Min Yoongi really does have a skilled tongue. When you pull away you can see stars in his eyes, his hair ruffled and cheeks red as he tries to even out his breathing. The most dangerous part about Yoongi is his duality. The way he can flit between sexy to cute and somewhere in between without trying.

------------2 months later----------

You've lost count on how many dates you've gone on at this point. He's taken you out on his bike finally to go stargazing. Out to plays and art galleries. Sometimes you've just stayed in and watched movies together. You have lunch together at least twice a week now, grabbing coffee together for a short reunion in the mornings after spending all night talking about everything and nothing over the phone. It's as if a time before Yoongi didn't exist. It's comfortable. Oddly easy.

It's to your chagrin and surprise that you learn that Yoongi wants to take things slow. He doesn't rush you into bed. He's the perfect gentleman. A punk Disney prince, albeit with a sharp tongue. No even after the third and fourth date when you try to heat things up he's quick to pull away and tell you that he doesn't want to rush things. Not with you, he says. He wants you to trust him first. He wants you to be truly comfortable first. He doesn't want you to think that he's only in it for that.

You get it. In fact, in a twist, it actually makes things hotter. But the build-up is getting almost painful now. The sexual tension mounting to epic proportions. Your poor vibrator would hate you if it wasn't inanimate. He wasn't lying about loving cuddling. He's also apparently a man of extreme patience because no matter how many times you've felt his hard dick against your ass mid-spooning he's refused to act on it. Or let you. It's left you more than slightly frustrated on multiple occasions. It also wasn't helpful that it, in turn, made you an awkward mess. In fact, you remember jokingly mentioning some gibberish about your starfish quivering to try and crack the tension and for a while you thought he would never let you live that terrible joke down. Starfish, really? What were you thinking?

What you belatedly realize though is that his master plan fucking works. Because somewhere along the way you started letting down your guards. Somewhere along all your dates, you find yourself falling. Allowing yourself to be human. Allowing yourself to stop fearing love. Allowing yourself to trust. Without fighting it. Without running. It's no longer terrifying. It's no longer something that gnaws at you in the chasm of anxiety.

And just shy of three months into dating Yoongi you realize that you love him. Love. Abstract. Intangible. Yet not. It's the way he looks at you. The way he holds your hands. The way he thinks about the things that make you tick. The way the two of you try to find joy in the tiniest of things. Marie Kondo would tell you that you've finally found something that sparks joy. But it's not just from him. No, even when he's not around you feel lighter. Freer. Happier. You're still sarcastic. A bit of a bitch. But this time it's no longer from a place of longheld bitterness and pain, rather it's from your twisted brand of humor.

This realization comes to you as you after hanging out with Yoongi's friends and coming back to his place to just chill and listen to his vinyls. When his thumb soothingly rubs your hand as you curl up into his chest. It's so natural. So right. "I love you." The words come out a soft sigh, muffled slightly into his chest but he hears them loud and clear.

Yoongi twists, pulling your face up to his. "Did you just say you love me?"

"Min Yoongi I love you." You don't expect to hear anything back. You aren't saying it for affirmation or reciprocation. You just want him to know.

"I don't think I've ever heard better words. Say it again." That gummy smile is back. The one that stirs up butterflies. The one that warms your soul. The one that you fell in love with.

You swing your legs over his lap, straddling him as you stare into his eyes. "I. Love. You."

"God, you don't know how bad I've wanted to hear that. I love you so fucking much. So much. Holy fuck. I want to kiss you, can I kiss-" Before he can finish the sentence your lips are on his. Soft and pliant under yours, a lingering taste of leftover chapstick and nicotine. It's captivating. Dizzying. It's so easy to get drunk off his lips. His taste. The soft groans that leave him. Tongues intertwine as his hands roam your body before landing on your ass with a firm squeeze. It's messy. Needy. Sloppy but full of passion. As if you're the only cure for each other. Each emotion lingering in the air. Your hips swivel down, grinding against his pants as one hand weaves into your hair to pull your neck back and attach his lips to there.

You can feel the small bruises blossoming already. Love bites and harsh sucks leave cherry blossoms along your neck, mirroring the pattern of his own tattoo. Quiet moans of need are spilling out, desire pooling into your panties each time his teeth scrape against you. "You, doll, are the hottest thing I've ever seen. I could worship you. Dedicate a temple to you. Can't wait to feel you. God, I want you so bad. I love you so fucking much." Each word spills out from him like a deep moan, reverberating through his chest and chewing them off at the end. A loud mewl of satisfaction leaves you. He loves you. He loves you. You're in love. Over the moon. How could you ever think that love wasn't for you? How could you ever give up? How could you honestly think that you were destined to be a spinster when a man like him wants you?

His hands claw at your shirt, quick to remove your bra and leave you partially bare. Even with the slight chill seeping in through his apartment you still feel feverish. Each time his calloused hands roam your skin you can feel your temperature increase. God, you've never wanted someone so much. It's almost an out of body experience. Sex elevated off the mortal plane. You swear you might cum just from him touching you at this rate. His lips brush against your nipples before biting down, one hand reaching back into your hair as you arch into the touch.

"Wanna touch you Yoongi. Wanna feel you." The words come out drunkenly. Wobbly. Laced with honey through your swollen lips. When his grip lets go of your hair you lean down to his neck, pressing kisses around his tattoo, tongue laving at the branch as your teeth scrape against his soft skin. The deep moans hiccuping out of him are music to your ears, urging you on as your grind against him. Desperate for friction. Desperate for release. Your hands toy at his shirt before finally breaking away to pry it over his head. Your eyes dance over his half-naked form, taking in the sight before you. Almost every square inch is covered, ink swirling around in intricate stories. God, you're about the fuck the hottest living canvas.

His chest is heaving, breathing uneven as the two of you make eye contact again before lips come crashing together and he's picking you up. Carrying you out of the living room and into his bedroom, stopping occasionally to push you against a wall just to latch onto your neck or chest. By the time you make it to the bed, you're sure that for the first time in your life you could actually forgo foreplay. You're so wet that you can feel it seeping through your underwear and leaving a mark on your jeans. He stumbles onto the bed, your head hitting the wall with a loud thwack that has both of you pausing for a moment. "Shit, are you okay?"

"Mmokay, take your pants off." You rub at the sore spot before reaching up to place a reassuring kiss on his lips. You hold your breath as you watch him strip, dick springing out proudly. Smeared with precum. Red. Throbbing and twitching. "You don't wear underwear?"

He looks almost bashful for a moment. "It's laundry day actually..." At the sound of your giggles, he takes the opportunity while you're disarmed to unbutton your pants, freeing you from your jeans and leaving you in just your flimsy lacy panties. The mood shifts back again when you see the hunger in his eyes. As if he's staring at a feast. "Christ, can't wait to taste this pussy. Make you cry my name." His hands are shaking slightly as he slowly pries your underwear off, eyes narrowing on the way your juices stick to your underwear finally tossing it off the side of the best.

"Please taste me, I need you. I can't wait."

"Who knew you'd be so needy? So quick to beg for my tongue?" That usual lazy smirk is back on his face as he looks at you, hands hooking around your thighs and pulling them over his shoulders. His tongue flattens against your sex before you can respond, a choked moan drowning out your words. Jesus, he's good with his tongue. It moves slowly, languidly against your dripping pussy. Rhythmically. Diving into your folds only to swirl up around your clit, sucking lightly and releasing with a soft pop before going back down all over again. It's when his tongue dips even lower, swirling around your puckered rim that you can feel your eyes roll back and breathing cut off. Two fingers slip into your dripping cunt with ease, scissoring to stretch you. The dual sensation of his tongue on your ass and fingers filling you up has you clenching. Spiraling. Bright white flashing behind your eyes as a silent scream tries to leave your throat. Toes curling, his name finally rolling off your tongue as you chase the sensation, your orgasm consuming your senses. It leaves you dizzy. Panting. A mewling, drenched mess under him.

Through fuzzy ears you can hear his low voice, "God how do you taste so good? Fuck, I could watch you all day baby girl."

His fingers move slowly as he watches you return to earth, twitching underneath him at the oversensitivity. You feel so sated, but at the same time, you want so much more. The look in his eyes makes you hungry all over again. You want him to feel just as good as you. You look up with hooded eyes, hand wrapping around his drooling cock as you speak. "I wanna taste you too Yoongi."

His adam's apple bobs, hands leaving your thighs as he pulls you into another messy kiss. It's almost all teeth and tongue this time, a thin line of saliva breaks apart when you separate. You shuffle off the bed slowly, knees gingerly falling to the floor before looking back up as your tongue swirls around his head before pulling back to lick a long stripe along his prominent vein. You pepper tiny kisses along his base, one hand cupping his balls gently as the other one twists around his base. You envelop his velvety length in your mouth, working slowly into a steady rhythm. Each sigh from him, soft moans of pleasure spurs you deeper. Jaw aching slightly as you try to take him deeper, using your hand to help stimulate the places you can't reach. His hands grip your hair tightly as he reaches past your molars, pulling you off of him with a loud pop. "Sorry love, I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that and I really want to fuck you."

You gulp at the way he's watching you. As if he's a predator and you're his prey. A feast for the night. You wouldn't have it any other way. He helps guide you back onto the bed, twisting you onto all fours as his hands glide over your ass. "Best ass I've ever seen. God, I've had so many wet dreams over this ass." His hand comes down sharply, the sting bringing a wave of pleasure to ripple through you as it soothingly rubs over. Your thoughts are quickly brought back to the throbbing between your thighs as his cock rubs against your swollen clit. "Please, fuck. God." You're incoherent, words stringing together slowly.

"What's my name doll?"

"Yoongi, come on. Fuck me before I bite your head off!"

"Yeah yeah, we'll see how much sass you have left in you when I'm done." You wiggle your hips impatiently as you hear him spit into his palm, adding lubrication before he glides into you. "Holy shit." He stays still for a moment as you spasm around the intrusion. He's just thick enough to have you crying out in pleasure, just long enough to have you seeing stars as he sinks deeper.

"Oh, fuck. Move, please move." You push back, sinker further onto him as he stays still before his hands snake around your throat.

"God, you are so mouthy. And as much as I normally love hearing you talk back right now I really just wanna fuck you." He pulls out almost completely before slamming back in, balls slapping into your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. Each movement is harsh, quick, with stamina and vigor you didn't foresee him having. The feeling of his hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off just enough circulation to stutter your breathing, has you gasping and rutting underneath him. Fuck, was sex supposed to feel this good? In your fucked out state, you can barely make out the sound of him chuckling darkly behind you. "Look at you baby, already fucked out and I've barely started. Do you wanna cum again baby? Already?"

"Fuck, please. Don't stop!" Your high pitched begging has him drilling in deeper, his free hand moving off your ass and onto your clit in quick circular motions that has you clenching around him. This time your orgasm is earth-shattering. Loud. Wet. When his hand finally lets go of your throat you face plant into the pillow, legs shaking around him as he keeps moving.

"You're so beautiful when you cum, did you know that? My pretty baby girl, all fucked out on my cock. Now that's a sight I never want to stop seeing." Another loud smack to your ass has you sobbing into the pillow, moans spilling out as your release gushes around him. "Jesus, how is your pussy so fucking wet? Are you always this wet?"

"No. It's just for you Yoongi."

"That's right. This pussy is mine, isn't it? Say it, doll."

"This pussy is yours Yoongi, fuck. Hold on, I wanna ride you." He stutters, pausing before pulling out so the two of you can shuffle around. You smirk as you crawl over his lap, one hand holding onto his cock as the other grabs his arm while you sink down. You're sure you look a fucked out mess, but so does he. Sweat is making his fringe cling to his forehead, kiss-swollen lips, hickies covering his neck visible even over his tattoos.

You neck snaps back as you sink down completely, the new angle bringing him right to your g-spot and making your legs shake in overstimulation. You fall forward onto his chest, pulling him into another kiss as you circle your hips in small figure eights. You bite down on his lower lip, pulling it between your teeth as you reach behind you and gently roll his balls in your hand. You delight in the way he groans, eyes rolling back at the sensation. "Keep doing that and I'm not going to last (y/n)."

"That's the point. Come on, cum with me Yoongi." It doesn't take much in your overstimulated state to get right back to the point again. Hanging over the edge as you dip your hand down to circle your clit, relishing in the dulcet moans from him as the two of you climax together. His nose scrunches up, eyebrows furrowing as he grips at your hips as you ride him into his own orgasm right after your third. It doesn't take long before he twitches inside you, painting your insides white as you slow down. At the feeling of him coming to his own completion you slump forward, your head falling into the crook of his neck as his hands circle your waist.

"Wow. That might easily have been the best sex of my life."

"Yeah, that was, wow." Your breathing is still unsteady, legs shaking as you feel him soften inside you.

"Did you realize you squirted?"

"Ah, yeah. Sorry to break your heart but that's actually somewhat normal for me."

"God that is so fucking hot." You laugh into his neck, exhaustion taking over as you sigh. "You know, the first time I ever saw you I knew. I just knew. You were all sass and fire, and I just knew that you were it. You were the one."

You wish you could reciprocate and say you thought the same thing when you first saw Yoongi, but you suppose it's better late than never. "I never would've guessed when I first met you that you liked cuddling, or saying such cheesy lines, or absolutely hated scary movies."

"Yeah, but you love that about me."

"Yeah. But I'm pretty sure I just love everything about you Min Yoongi."

"You know, when you say my full name like that I get oddly turned on. Do you think you're up for a round two in like, half an hour?"

You really should say no, you really just want to sleep. But just the thought has your mind spinning. Lord give you strength because you're going to need it, or at least better stamina, to last in survive this man.

You never would've guessed that love could feel so right. So natural. So normal. It isn't always a crazy spark. It isn't all fire and passion, even though it certainly has its moments. No, it's softer. Gentler. It grows and evolves with you. It changes. It takes work. And the two of you do somehow make it work. Even after moving in and trying to learn how to love someone when there's only one bathroom. Even after you get married and fall into a routine. Even after you get pregnant and go a smidge hormonally insane both times. Even on days when both of the kids drive you batty. Even when they leave home and leave you with an empty nest all over again. Because love is something beautiful. It's something innate within us all, it's just a matter of both parties wanting it enough. Working at it enough. And whenever anyone asks you what love means to you it was simple from that day forward. Min Yoongi.

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