#back to vague yearning posts (i might be getting sick) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

Note

Hey so how does it feel to carry the entire Levihan fandom on your back? I absolutely love all your stories! I always look forward to when you update! I had an idea for a fic but I haven't seen anyone do it. Where past levi wakes ups ( when he only sees hange as a friend) in the future to find that he's happily married to hange or living domestically with her and just contemplates his feelings for her

Title: Unwritten

Summary:

“Hange Zoe. One of the reasons why she creates really quality works is because aside from writing the script, she’s very hands on with everything from the direction, to the design and just the overall production… And she knows how to do it. When I watch her movies, it feels like they're peering into my soul or something.”

“Peering into your soul…” It was a tacky choice of words and Levi could only repeat them with some level of disbelief.

“What makes Hange Zoe's writing special are those in betweens. The unwritten parts... if you know what I mean?"

Levi is assigned to work with screenwriter Hange Zoe and he is left constantly wondering why the hell she's taking her work so seriously.

Link: AO3

Note: I conceptualized this long fic after looking through a some of the prompts in my inbox and playing with them.. TYSM to everyone who sent those. I won't be dropping all the prompts I used when making this now because it might end up spoiling the fic as a whole but I will be dropping the prompts with every chapter I updated.

This fic doesn't actually follow any prompt strictly, I twisted the prompts around them, tore them apart, put them together so they might seem unrecognizable for some.

Either way, I'm very grateful to readers who are sending me prompts. It keeps me writing and brainstorming even when life gets terribly busy.

So thank you for them :D. I'm trying to get back to posting my writing more regularly again and this fic has been sitting in my folder for a while, I was just a little nervous to post it. Thanks to itShailaAM for looking through it!

If neither of us remember anything… Then it’s like it never happened right?

The voice was nostalgic, heart wrenchingly nostalgic. It had a unique way of twisting at his gut, spidering up his spine then leaving an almost painful pang in his chest.

Despite the overwhelming sensations, Levi found himself still able to take control.

So he reached out.

Then he was chasing after her again.

Chasing… He then wondered. How long had he been chasing? How long had he been awake?

With the first light of morning, whatever message, whatever meaning he could have made up for himself dissipated.

Or maybe it was never there to begin with.

For the first time in years or even decades, Levi was wasting his early morning window before work. He wasn’t doing much of anything but staring up at the white ceiling in some feeble attempt to make sense of it again. He came up empty save for two things: a faint throbbing in his head and a half hearted conclusion that maybe it really was just some fevered dream.

“Good morning!" Someone was right next to him. Her voice was higher, more mellow. A hairs breadth away from his ear though, it grated.

Levi narrowed his eyes and the blur cleared somewhat. “Petra?” He heard himself speak. He was in an unfamiliar in-between, completely in control of himself, yet strangely disconnected. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Petra put one hand on the back of her head and gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry about barging in like this…” She didn’t have to apologize. They were childhood friends and with all the family gatherings they had spent together growing up, they were more than comfortable just flitting in and out of each other’s apartments.

Levi didn’t respond. There were more important things to think about like the slow and almost painful process of sitting up. That morning, he was a little more careful than usual.

“Your mom told me to check on you.” Petra continued.

“Typical,” he muttered coldly. He turned towards the window, and took in the view of the blue sky, a few stories above ground. It should calm him if he stared at it long enough. “She always overreacts,” he added. At that point, the crankiness had started to subside and Levi realized he didn’t mind the doting too much. His mother had always been like that anyway. Growing up, a sprained ankle or an animal bite from a family pet had always been enough for Kuchel to insist on a visit to the doctor.

Petra let out a dry chuckle. “I don’t blame her though. Since the accident, she’s been asking about you every...”

Everyday. Levi completed it for her. He wouldn’t be surprised if his mother had asked about him every hour. “She can always ask me directly,” he said out loud before Petra could finish. He didn’t feel too bad about interrupting. Petra had been speaking particularly slowly since a while ago and if he let her speak like that for any longer, they might not get anything done.

As if she had read his mind or at least noticed the impatience, she immediately gathered herself. “You always downplay it,” she said, more clearly this time.

“She always exaggerates it.”

“That accident was pretty bad though.” Petra cocked her head to the side. “I’m sure you understand that, right?”

Levi averted his gaze for a brief second. He couldn’t deny that part. That accident had apparently been bad enough to merit a month long hospital stay, bad enough for Levi to not remember much of it aside from the phantom pains in his chest, And bad enough to take the brunt of the pain and the inconvenience of dealing with the symptomatic disorientation, the fatigue and the begrudging need for some support.

A few seconds of reflection later, Levi concluded maybe there was good reason for that overreaction. “But I can take care of myself.”

Ironically, his body chose that moment to teeter.

“Hey, you okay?” Petra put one warm hand on his shoulder. “You think you can make it to work today?”

The throbbing at the back of his head had dulled to a bearable ache but he could have sworn it had been worse in the hospital. “I don’t have enough leaves,” he said. He focused for a while longer on Petra’s eyes and saw reason.

Maybe I can take a longer break?

His body was probably silently begging for more leaves. On the contrary, another part of him had been yearning for normalcy for a while. Practicality had been the deciding factor. Although Levi had more than enough leaves, did he have more than he would have been comfortable giving up? Maybe not. He wouldn’t take it anyway. He had more than enough strength to push himself out of bed and pad lightly to the bathroom.

Unwillingly or willingly? He was too tired to tell.

“You were in the hospital just a week ago.” Petra was a voice of reason or a voice of temptation.

“I can’t take any more leaves,” Levi repeated again, as if saying it louder somehow made it more convincing. He made his way to his closet, keeping his strides purposeful, partially for himself, partially for her.

Even for a long time friend, Petra had always been shy and conservative. As soon as Levi motioned to pull his shirt up, she rushed out of the room in some characteristic gesture of modesty.

His bedroom door closed with a click and Levi started to slip his clothes off much faster. His head continued to throb. There was a strange ringing in his ears and the room was a little drafty, typical for early spring.

Levi didn’t have the mind space to prepare for that brush with icy wind. Fucking hell. Discomfort then the desperation that followed had him considering calling in sick again.

After using up three week’s worth though, vacation leaves were starting to feel more like a scam than an actual benefit of the job. He ran through the motions of his typical morning routine. Or at least, what had been typical a month ago. Since the accident, he hadn’t worn anything but loose shirts, pajamas and hospital gowns. Back in the hospital, he had been asleep a lot of that time.

He pulled his pants on, then sluggishly pulled his sweater over him, dolefully noting how snug fitting clothing seemed like strangers to his skin.

He didn’t feel like the same person anymore.

It looked like Petra did notice something was different. Over breakfast, she had pushed the plates closer to him. She did the honors of pouring the scrambled eggs onto his plate, then placing a loaf of bread right next to him. “Eat, we have a long day ahead.”

Levi mumbled something that could have been a ‘thanks’ or a ‘yes.’ He didn’t think too far about it either. There were more pressing things to deal with, like internally psyching himself up for his first day back at work and finding routine once again in the recovery process.

For a few minutes after, the two were silent in the small kitchen save for the sound of chewing and the sound of cutlery clacking on the plate.

“Hey Levi,” Petra hesitantly broke the silence. “You really don't remember what happened?” She had asked that question countless times before, back at the hospital, on his first day back at home and every single time she paid a visit.

He chalked it up to worry. In some semblance of a response, Levi downed the bread in his mouth in one painful gulp, then took a sip of tea. “I remember waking up in the hospital.”

“Before that.”

Levi dropped the half eaten bread on the plate and stared straight up at the ceiling for a second. “Leaving work,” he answered. It was too vague of an answer and Petra didn't seem satisfied.

Of course she wouldn’t be satisfied. He always walked the same route home and routine wouldn’t give too much of an answer to the question of how the hell more than a month ago, he had ended up with a severe concussion and a few contusions in the hospital emergency room, a few towns away from his own.

Past was past though. There was no use digging into it. At present, he had medical bills to pay and a career to salvage. No time for a personal investigation. He attempted to digress. “What did I miss?” Levi asked. “At work?” He noted Petra’s very disconcerting expression, a combination of pity and uncertainty. It was starting to get annoying.

Petra furrowed her brows, a little more hesitant to speak that time. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about...”

In protest, Levi put the bread down and stared at Petra, his stone cold expression unwavering. He wouldn’t be eating unless Petra continued. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

A few minutes of silence later and it seemed to work. Petra looked down at the bread then up at him. Whatever was plaguing her mind then had taken some control over her. “A lot has changed since the accident,” she started.

“With work?” Levi asked again. He dropped the bread on the plate, deliberately allowing the clatter, as if the loud jarring sound would be enough to drive away the disbelief. Three weeks or fifteen business days wasn’t supposed to be a long time taking into account the speed of office bureaucracy.

Petra nodded, a wry smile on her face. Her expression, her demeanor gave the uncertainty away before she spoke of it. “You’re probably going to have to talk to Mr. Zackley about it…”

Levi’s mind was racing. Despite the throbbing, Levi had managed to fill in the blanks for himself. Even before Petra expounded on it, Levi had started to accept already, going back to work was probably not going to be such an easy ride.

Being gone for weeks had done a number to his job.

Three weeks to be exact. It was just three weeks, fifteen business days. Despite Petra’s apparent discomfort, her incessant warnings not to ‘expect,’ Levi had expected some semblance of normalcy. When his hopes were dashed, Levi felt like he had been body slammed out of nowhere by an oncoming train.

“I’ve been working on their set for years…Since the pilot episode, ” Levi said slowly. Hell, since even before the pilot episode if you consider the preproduction stage. He didn’t want it to seem at all like it was an argument and he subdued his tone to something lighter, with the intention of reminding himself not to talk back at authority.

“And we’ve transferred you,” General Manager Darius Zackley said matter-of-factly. “Underground City has been garnering a lot of attention lately and we couldn’t afford to be undermanned at such a crucial point of production.”

“But was it necessary to transfer me?”

Mr. Zackley’s expression softened. He didn't have a natural expression that demanded authority but he made up for it with reason. “It’s a primetime show,” he explained. “One of our best, and given the uncertainty regarding your accident…” For some reason, he had hesitated at that word. “We couldn’t take a gamble. We had you immediately replaced after the first week.”

“And?” At face value, the new developments were starting to seem terribly, terribly disappointing. “I can still work there.” Levi was perfectly aware of where the conversation was going. Still, it didn’t hurt to try.

Mr. Zackley was surprisingly patient. “It’s not an issue of you not fitting in. But we want to properly and more efficiently distribute our labor. The production of Underground City is currently…” He cleared his throat. “Oversaturated.”

Oversaturated with budget, resources. Underground City was a crime and mystery drama, one of their more high budget productions. Levi wasn’t too surprised at that piece of information, having worked closely with the producers and the writers since the pilot.

With a boss a few reporting levels above his own though, Levi couldn’t do much but listen quietly. Disappointment and uncertainty loomed over him and he was tiring more quickly.

“We’ve made some arrangements, set you up with a new role.” Mr. Zackley was taking his sweet time, his painfully sweet time.

At the butt end of Mr. Zackley’s whims, Levi was a mess. He racked his brain for all possible outcomes of the ‘arrangements’, a painful process, hampered by the weight of too many possibilities. They were a medium sized network that produced most of their own TV shows on top of news coverage and documentaries, still too many for Levi to have cared enough about to count.

At that moment, he was determined to make up for lost time. Naturally, his mind first flew to the more well known productions, those that had been receiving the best ratings in prime time TV since he had started working there.

Underground City. Military Police.

Working at the set of the crime drama ‘Underground City’ had been a good run for Levi, one he would have liked to continue but Mr. Zackley said so himself, they replaced him. ‘Military Police,’ one of their more popular historical war dramas, also received one of the bigger chunks of their budget. With Zackley’s very sullen expression, it looked like he wasn’t at all there to give Levi a promotion.

He didn’t really mind not working on the ‘Military Police’ set anyway. Everyone there seemed like a lazy prick and that long running drama had always seemed overrated to him. What else would be waiting for him though? “To where?” Levi pressed.

The old man hummed for a second, leaned forward on his seat. “I talked to Erwin about this and we have an opening in one of our daytime shows.”

“Erwin?” Levi repeated. The name was more than just familiar and he allowed himself a brief moment to recall. Erwin Smith. One of the more prominent in-house directors. Just digging deep into his mind, riling up whatever was causing the headache in the first place. He sat still and waited for it to subside again.

Then he wondered if it had been physical or just an emotional reaction to the mess he found himself in. He was barely recovering, he was plunged into a new position and he was confused, utterly confused.

“Consider it a temporary position until something else opens up,” Mr. Zackley added. “Given that you just got back from the hospital, it would be better if you started small.” He shot Levi a placating look. “Either way, this is a good opportunity for you, Ackerman…” It didn’t seem so genuine. “To ease you back into the hustle and bustle of working in TV production.”

Zackley spoke for an eternity longer after that but it had done nothing to make the transfer any better.

Levi had been working with that same hustle and bustle for years and he was confident, a three week break at the height of production wouldn’t have been enough to throw him--- hell, most people off completely.

But he was being treated like some invalid. Zackley’s warm words yet his uninviting demeanor sent some alarm bells ringing inside Levi.Mr. Zackley was overly consoling, overly placating and Levi’s mind was racing.

Levi took a deep breath and dropped his shoulders, willing himself to relax and focus on the present. Whatever the catch was, he’d find out soon anyway.

To ease you back into the hustle and bustle of working in TV production.

What a magnificent fucking lie.

“Start small my ass.” With the stress just piling up and his body barely catching up, Levi was tempted to let it out as anything louder, accompanying it with the very dramatic motion of dropping the paper work on the floor and relishing the loud thud. He imagined scattering the pages on the table, spilling them onto the floor and maybe kicking them out onto some curb.

Then he brushed off that mental image completely.

That would only create an unnecessary mess, maybe even cause a scene in that small cafe. Although his life seemed like it was complete chaos, his fastidious side wouldn’t have allowed him to make it any more worse. Then and there, he deemed it the best option to just take a sip of his tea, allow it to warm him up slowly and create a comfortable distraction, somewhere convenient.

A minute or so later, Levi accepted, tea didn’t do too good of a job. After all, what could tea do, aside from supporting him through the long and painful two days of ‘adjustment’ and the journey to the very frustrating conclusion that the general manager of the studio, Mr. Zackley was too out of touch with the struggles of the average worker.

“Just for long enough to get back to the hustle and bustle of TV production? What a fucking liar,” Levi muttered again. He dropped the tea cup on the saucer with a clank.

“Well, technically you are starting small,” Petra said. “They don’t expect too much quality wise from a soap opera on a day time slot.” She flipped through the pages of scripts and the storyboards that formed an overwhelmingly thick pile of papers on the coffee table.

It wasn’t too thick. Levi stared for a while longer and he decided it was a manageable pile of documents. The soft copies on his laptop were also of a countable number.

The deadline to be completely functional in two days though wasn’t as reasonable.

In search of some semblance of a break, Levi shifted his gaze towards Petra.

Her familiar presence had made the job change bearable. A half hearted response with her attention mostly channelled towards the piles of scripts had still been enough to have Levi more at home in the middle of the coffee shop in the late afternoon. “You didn’t even need to transfer,” Levi said. The indignance and the bitterness of a while ago seemed to be mellowing into something almost sweet.

Petra turned a beet red and she put her hands up in defense. “No no… I wanted to. Besides, this type of set is always in need of more people.”

Levi raised one eyebrow in response. Soap opera sets? Or maybe just daytime soap operas in general. Or maybe just that particular soap opera set. He turned back to the pile of papers on the table then back to his laptop.

The pile of papers on the table was the script for that month alone. The folders in the USB were eight seasons worth of soap opera scripts and episodes. Levi was once again reminded why such a project could have been so undersaturated.

Scratch that, he had never forgotten and he didn’t think he would ever forget anyway.

The script for just that month was much larger than the piles Levi worked with at his previous production. By the second day, he was starting to conclude, working with daytime soap operas was turning out to be a grind, a seemingly thankless grind.

Soap operas ran with the expectation of producing five episodes a week with a shoestring budget. The pressing deadlines and just the amount of content that had to be produced meant vacations and holidays were few and far in between for the average employee. And the unreasonable demands usually meant that quality would naturally suffer.

Since he started assimilating into his job, he also started to wonder. What audience were they even producing soaps for in that day and age?

“Do you think you’ll even enjoy this?” Levi challenged.

“It’s too early to tell,” Petra said.

Levi didn’t want to admit it then, but he was convinced that she would even find a way to enjoy it. The question should have been for him. He was the one who could barely even get past the first page of the script.

Petra flashed him a knowing smile, flipping the pages a little faster. She wasn’t reading them and all attention was on Levi.

Her face could have been asking questions. Or Levi could have been projecting. He repeated the question to himself. What now? More specifically, what was he supposed to do?

Then he answered it. Get used to it? Or maybe just accept it as a job. The grind would eventually get less painful he was sure. But would he ever see the beauty in it?

Levi had never taken the time to watch that particular soap opera but he had seen too many in passing to know what he would be working with.

The stories didn’t make fucking sense. The sets were cheaply made. The lights, the cameras and the resources for special effects were far from what he was given when he was still working with the twenty-one-episodes-a-season, one-season-a-year ‘Underground City.”

According to Erwin, they just didn’t have the budget. Besides, the average viewer didn’t expect much else anyway from a soap opera.

Either way, he was still hired as the cinematographer. This is still your job. Levi took a deep breath then exhaled with a soft huff. First things first, he had to familiarize himself with ten to fifty episodes worth of scripts. That night, he would be watching the blocking, the lighting, the editing, the overall production.

That was the job of the fucking cinematographer anyway. Erwin had warned him though, they were severely undermanned in all facets of production, pre production, production proper and post production. And for shows that aired multiple times a week, that meant, the grind wouldn't end.

So he wouldn’t just be the cinematographer.

At the impending workload that followed his orientation phase, Levi closed his eyes tight. For a second there, his mind flew to other opportunities and just the process of editing his CV and applying elsewhere.

Maybe in a year he would reapply, or maybe even in months.

He wondered if Petra was thinking the same thing. If she were, she didn’t make it obvious. Petra enjoyed the production process just as much as he did and she had been the reason he had found a job there in the first place.

“Welcome back to the working world.” Petra chuckled.

Levi blinked back the surprise in his eyes as he was once again pulled back to reality. Admittedly, he was overwhelmed. The weak throbbing returned and after spending too many hours insisting to Petra that he was ready to go back to work, he didn’t think it right to take a break.

He sipped his tea and deemed that a quick break.

“God I miss our tea times,” Petra said, looking pointedly at Levi's tea caup. She flipped the script over and pulled her teacup towards her.

Levi noted the wistful expression on Petra’s face. “I was only out for a month,”

Petra shook her head. “But for a week or so, we thought you wouldn’t make it.” There was a subtle crack, not too noticeable if Levi hadn’t tensed up and watched her closely.

It was bringing up too many unwelcome emotions at once, and somewhere in the back of his mind, a haze of memories aggravated the throbbing in his head.

Levi turned back to the pile of papers. With the amount of work to do, he would never have the time to ponder what happened anyway. In an attempt at digression, he pulled the script towards him, and started to flip the pages, poring over words yet only taking in half of it.

A very boring half.

Eventually, he gave up. “Let’s go back home. We’re not getting anything done here.” He gathered the pages, and meticulously returned them to each envelope.

He was supposed to be reviewing the scripts to get some idea on how the TV show worked. They had chosen to work in the cafe to escape from the bustle of the sets and attempt some productivity. Yet, they had been in the cafe for a few hours already and he still didn’t remember what the story had been about in the first place.

Soap operas didn’t have logical plots anyway. Levi thought to himself. Maybe just accepting could make his work feel more unbearable. He watched as Petra gathered the pages on her end, stuffed them into her bag.

“Sorry, I thought you would have wanted tea. You always liked this place…” Petra was explaining herself. The not-so-eloquent way at which she did it was a distraction. In fact, everything at that point was either a distraction or even irritating. Levi took a deep breath, closed his eyes and let the throbbing take control for a second.

One step at a time. Levi slung his bag over his shoulder. “The tea was good,” he said, more for her than himself. That was a lie. In fact, the tea tasted underwhelming. Tea usually didn’t disappoint though and Levi was starting to suspect the fault was in him. “Just give me some time to get used to life again,” he added, his tone more apologetic that time.

A few seconds or even minutes of reflection later and Levi had to admit, he felt like he really had changed during that break.

Cinematography is visual storytelling. Or so, that was what he had been taught when he started working with TV shows years ago.

When there was no story he could follow, there was no essence or heart to portray. So, Levi naturally approached it like a cold hard science. The hard copies on folders lay abandoned on the coffee table. His laptop remained unopened.

Levi's attention was trained on the big screen. He had silently been sprawled on the sofa since they arrived back to his apartment hours ago. Bundled up in a sweatshirt, legs propped up on the coffee table, Levi was in that convenient trance between relaxing and analyzing.

He had no idea what the couple on the TV had been arguing about. He had no idea who had fathered the large overly tacky baby bump sticking out of the woman.

The latest episode was playing on repeat and Levi remembered two things happening in the past ten minutes. A pregnant woman entering the crappy set of their mansion, hand on her oversized belly and man looked back at her then approached her, a look of abject horror on his face. He was shouting something, obscenities maybe?

By that point, Levi’s mind started to wander with too many other passing thoughts.

The horror at finding out the protagonist was pregnant was overly exaggerated. Were baby bumps really supposed to be that big? And why did it take them that many months to figure it out? How many pregnancies did the protagonist go through? How many love interests did she have?

Then the cinematographer and the photographer in him took over.

There were more important things to look into. The camera never moved. Levi was familiar with multi camera setups and he didn’t need to think too hard about it. Most of the scenes were filmed in the house, in the office, all conveniently made sets, the conveniently written scripts were written around the shitty budget.

And the high frame rate, in tandem with the inorganic lighting, the lack of special effects and just the lack of some careful camera movement, made the overall story and the overall view, underwhelming, not at all cinematic.

The soap opera effect.

Some wouldn’t see it. Others would probably notice it but not glaringly enough to complain. Levi had worked in film for years and when he would search for the characteristic motion blur, he would immediately find it. The culmination of a simple camera set up, a few sets, a cheap camera, and with a studio and network always in some hurry to cut the budget, the soap opera effect was very apparent.

And they would be expecting the same cooperation from him in putting together a cheaply made production. On the bright side, that meant that despite having to deal with some shitty soap opera plot that didn’t make any sense, he wouldn’t have to do too much thinking with lighting, blocking and editing. Planning sets and scenes would be a light stroll in the park at best, soul suckingly monotonous at worst.

Levi reached for the remote and started to rewind, his interest suddenly piqued.

“So what do you think happened to the baby?” Petra asked. She dropped a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

Levi wasn’t in any mood to eat. More importantly, he in the mood to speculate the cheap excuse for a plot. “Am I supposed to care?” He pulled his legs close to him and leaned further on the armrest of the sofa, giving Petra more than enough space to get herself comfortable.

“Well, you’re working on the set right? Better to at least know the major plot points of what you’re working with.”

“Spoil me,” Levi said.

Petra reached for the popcorn and grabbed a handful. She turned to him, a wry smile on her face. “You really don’t even wanna try to enjoy it?”

“This is a job. ”

Petra dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Well… Hanako gets kidnapped…”

“Hanako?”

“The baby…” Petra answered, looking pointedly at him. “They literally spent an episode discussing the baby’s name.” A laugh was very much evident in her voice.

And there are a hundred episodes to sift through. “I don’t have to know the baby’s name to do my job.”

“The baby will be the main character in the next season. If you have been reading the script--- Or even just following the story...” Petra put her hands out and pointed at the TV, starting to look more exasperated by the minute.

“Okay,” Levi responded firmly, not in any mood to stomach accusations. “Then I’ll learn her name when I start working. Just tell me what I need to know to do my job. ”

Petra sighed. “When we get back on air, there will be a time skip. Then the season post time skip picks up after Hanako’s first day of college. So before that she grew up with her adopted parents who found her abandoned in a box. They went through some tough times financially and in the latest pages of the script she gets a job in a coffee shop.” She turned towards the thick envelope on the table then glanced accusingly at him. “I could have sworn you were reading through that back in the cafe.”

Levi didn’t notice it. He had only half heartedly read the script. Still, he feigned a look of interest.

“Then a lot of the writers quit,” Petra continued. “So a lot of what happened hasn't been written yet.”

Levi flashed Petra a knowing look.

Petra sighed. "Apparently, people were overworked, the job didn't pay much so a lot of the crew, cinematographer, production designers, they all left which was most likely why they put you there.”

Levi only had to look back at his first day and his second day to understand the turnover rate. He had spent a little less than an hour familiarizing himself with systems that seemed to be put into place for show. Soon after that, he was bombarded with unreasonable deadlines, timelines, responsibilities outside his actual job title and a little less than two days to sift through eight seasons worth of scripts.

“And why they easily transferred me. We're really behind now. Post production for the last few episodes should be completed this week, aired by next week.

"Then we have a hiatus at least," Levi said, repeating it with that same cold professional tone Erwin had used with him on their first day. Except he knew that was a scam too. They would be using that two week hiatus to start filing.

That reminder at least pulled Levi back into reality. He couldn’t flit mindlessly from side to side and clock it up as ‘learning the ropes’ forever. Eventually, they were going to ask him to actually know the ropes. “Erwin said something about me working with production proper and post production,” Levi mindlessly rewinded some of the scenes again. “But they can’t expect me to write the script right?”

Petra shook her head. “No, I don’t think you will,” she said. “I talked to a few of the crew. They said they were hiring a writer. A whole writing crew actually--- And you know, among them, there are rumors about a big name screenwriter.”

Levi raised one eyebrow in disbelief. “Joining the set of a daytime soap opera.”

She put her hands up in defense. “It’s just a rumor.”

“A stupid rumor. What kind of screenwriter in their right mind would want to work here?”

Petra paused for a second, deep in thought. “Fine, it might just be a rumor. Still, ask yourself, why would there be rumors circulating in the first place?"

Levi sighed. “Which screenwriter then?” he asked, mostly in an attempt to humor her. And himself. The fact that a big name screenwriter would work in soap operas, might actually make ‘soap operas’ work.

“Hange Zoe,” Petra said, a wry knowing look on her face. As if it was a name Levi was supposed to know.

“Hange Zoe?” And if he followed the same ups and downs of Petra’s tone, he could pretend it was familiar to his lips. “Hange Zoe,” he said again.

Petra nodded. “The writer of the Titan series? The final movie of `Advancing Titans’ is coming out in the fall.”

Advancing Titans. The name had seemingly come out of nowhere, especially when Levi had already run through a few possible names in his head. Hange Zoe hadn’t been one of them. Although she was a big name in the screenwriting industry for sure, the idea of Hange Zoe working with soap operas seemed almost preposterous.

“Hange Zoe…” Levi said it one more time, in surprise or in some attempt to practice saying it. “You’re seriously talking about that writer?” Levi looked to Petra for confirmation. Hange had only ever written one movie series from a completely different genre, which begged a question.“She has some experience in soap operas?”

Petra unlocked her phone, opened the browser and started typing and scrolling. “No… Just the movies…” she muttered a second later.

“Then why do you think she would suddenly want to work in a cheap ass day time soap opera?”

Petra looked back at him, a dumbfounded look in her face. “But the timing just fits too well. The final movie is about to be released. Apparently, she didn’t renew her contract with her studio. There are even rumors of her leaving the movie industry… And there were speculations and everything.”

“Retirement?” Levi suggested.

“Why retire in your thirties?” Petra said.

“Well, when you’re earning millions per script…” Levi trailed off. Thinking up an argument was too much of a tall order. He continued flipped through channels in silence and he had managed to pick out the movie ‘Advancing Titans’ by just a few seconds worth of a scene.

Speak of the devil.

But it wasn’t strange at all to come across the movies while flipping through channels. After all, Advancing Titans had become a household name over the past few years.

A person in a green cloak was flying, killing some man eating a zombie. It was a familiar scene, Even Levi, who almost prided himself in never having watched the movies, was familiar enough with the iconic movements, the colors and the insignia on the back.

The wings of freedom. How the hell that was connected to the story, Levi never watched enough to find out. Nor was he interested. Science fiction and fantasy were just never his cup of tea.

If Levi had to guess, soap operas and crime dramas shouldn’t have been big wig screenwriter Hange Zoe’s cup of tea either, especially after dedicating years of her life into a production as complex as a science fiction, dark fantasy cinematic universe..

“Do you really think Hange Zoe can actually work with low budget soap operas?” Levi asked.

Petra shrugged and Levi wondered why he had even asked her in the first place. Of course, she wouldn’t know. Still, she spoke up. “Even if the rumors were wrong and it wasn’t Hange Zoe. The important thing is they get someone to pump out scripts right? And your job anyway is to make sure everything gets filmed.”

“I guess.” Levi kept his eyes trained on the screen. The scene shifted from a forest, to the cobblestoned streets in town. A parade of miserable soldiers entered the town within the walls. The camera focused on a father, who navigated through crowds of people, zooming in one of the shorter soldiers.

Captain, I wanted to talk to you about my daughter… She wrote me a letter… She’s too young to get married.

Something about the expression of the soldier pulled Levi in. For a moment, he was frozen on his seat, completely hypnotized.

Petra’s voice tore into his trance. “That’s one of the scenes I can never forget.”

In some desperate bout of retaliation, Levi switched the channel of the TV. “Let’s watch something else.”

“Why? You okay?” Petra asked.

“I’m fine. I’d rather watch something more productive.” Levi flipped more rapidly through channels. He was tempted to just turn off the TV and call it a night.

“There’s a lot to learn from watching that,” Petra started.

"Like what?" Levi asked, his grip on the remote was still firm.

Petra opened her mouth, then closed it again. She sighed. “It's hard to explain... but remember that scene just a while ago. The father approached the captain about his daughter… She died while fighting the titans and they had to empty the cart so they lost all the bodies..."

Levi kept his eyes glued to the screen, suddenly hyper aware that there might have been a judgemental or impatient look on his face. “Go on,” Levi said, as if that could do anything to placate the discomfort already apparent in her voice.

“I guess the point I wanted to make is…” Petra still seemed far from calm. “Hange Zoe. One of the reasons why she writes really quality works apparently is because aside from writing the script, she’s very hands on with everything from the blocking, to the screenwriting and just the overall production… Which makes the storyline and the movie so gripping. When I watch it, it feels like the movie is peering into my soul or something.”

“Peering into your soul…” It was a tacky choice of words and Levi could only repeat them with some level of disbelief.

“A lot of the novelty of Hange Zoe’s writing… The parts that make it special are those in betweens. The parts she left unwritten... if you know what I mean?"

“That’s cool,” Levi responded, only barely. He switched to their local channel, to the late night reruns of the soap opera. .

“They’re good movies. I don’t think they were overrated," Petra said, a hint of defensiveness in her tone.

"I never said they weren’t good movies."

"You don't seem to want to hear about it at all."

"I'm just not interested. Besides, I'm too busy with work." That was the right moment to feign business. Levi held his phone in front of him, opened up the browser and wrote out a few familiar keywords. The movies of the titan series were all ranging from four to five star ratings. Whether it had been commended for cinematography or writing, he had been too lazy to check the more detailed reviews.

The reviews were most likely raving, sloppily made and potentially biased and Levi didn’t want to hear another synonym for ‘peers into your soul.’

His eyes were drooping, he was exhausted. Petra seemed to be ready to leave as well. But he had some space, he needed some break. And what better way to spend it than to do a little stalking? "Petra, could you send a file of the first movie? I think I might wanna watch it."

"You can stream the older ones on demand," Petra said.

Levi only had to open the menu on his TV to see the option for streaming. Right. Watching movies was starting to feel like a chore though and he was in no mood watching that night.

He didn’t say much else after that and the night ended with greetings exchanged. Petra only lived a few floors below him and it didn’t feel any different from being alone.

Before he knew it, he was half asleep already. He gave up, turned off the TV and allowed himself to doze off. When he came to his senses again, the sun was streaming through the window, and with work starting in an hour or so, he had little to no time to even start the movie.

The set was small. The budget was miniscule. The turnover rate was high.

And for projects that wanted to disguise themselves as official and corporate, it was utter chaos. One week into his job, Levi had to admit, he was reaching too widely, and he was spread out too thin.

There was a semblance of structure within his team. Petra and Eld worked with cinematography, filming and camera management and all he had to do was make sure the blocking looked good, limit the amount of retakes needed. Gunther and Oluo worked in post production and video editing.

But structure was an illusion.

The actors hadn’t arrived yet. Other new roles hadn't been finalized. The script was still unfinished. Yet, they were under the mercy of the vision of higher ups

"We're heavily delayed,’ or so that was what Erwin had explained. ‘Feedback of the higher ups.”

There were deadlines, unreasonable deadlines for the employees, yet a reasonable wait for the average audience. They had less than a month to finish filming and post production for the first few episodes of the new season, less than a week to produce everything for the old season.

When he was in a pseudo-management role, as a cinematographer, it was automatic. When filming, he should be going down to the set. But they weren't filming yet. In fact, there were people in the set not doing anything.

In the chaos, everything didn't seem to add up. So Levi forced one memorandum, one attempt at structure. He would finish the final editing by that night and start the next day with a blank slate. Even if he needed to, he would stay until midnight to make it work.

That new writing team should be coming soon. Levi repeated to himself. Erwin had said so himself, Petra had also mentioned it excitedly over lunch.

All Levi had to do was get the episodes ready for review by the higher ups, then ready for airing then he could start that new season with a healthier approach, maybe find some way to add more structure to his already hectic job.

“Petra, don’t wait for me. I’m working overtime today.”

Petra jumped on her seat.

Levi only realized then, he had come up from right behind her. And Petra had been busy reading through something in her laptop, a quick glance confirmed, it was the unfinished script.

Levi continued. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Petra looked back at him, a worried look in her face. She opened her mouth to speak.

“Deadlines,” Levi answered.

“You need any help? You know Oluo and Gunther, they can stay too. Or even me.”

“I can finish it myself,” Levi said. He was completely aware either way that it was his job to review everything before anyone else reviewed and before it went on air.

There was an indignant look on Petra's face. But Petra never really imposed. She nagged, doted, argued but she never imposed.

And he managed to pacify her by requesting an espresso and a cup of tea from the tea shop right in front of the studio. Beverages were frowned upon in the video editing room. Levi though was particularly meticulous, he was tired and stressed and he allowed himself some leeway.

Just today. And when they start filming the new season, during the hiatus, Levi would reopen his work with a more organized approach, more suited for his personality. He constantly reassured himself of that as he continued to edit the videos, crosschecking with storyboards and scripts.

Most of the work had been done. Most of the work had been easy to scan through. Still it was hours of sifting through retakes, reviewing and setting them up for reviews and cuts. In the silence, completely alone, He gladly gave the task the required focus, more than enough not to have noticed the sound of the door click behind him.

“This is the coffee you asked for right?” The voice wasn’t Petra’s but still it didn’t seem at all hostile. In fact, the voice seemed friendly.

Friendly enough for Levi to feel obliged to respond.”Thanks.” A new hire maybe? In the one week he had been working there, three people had already quit.

It wasn’t worth a second thought. The important thing was he got his coffee and tea. So he didn’t bother looking up, only looking with his peripherals to see the paper white of the cup just a few inches away. He reached one hand towards the cup and surprisingly, his hand didn’t grasp for paper. It went for something a little softer, something a little cooler but still warm to the touch.

And it moved. A bug? A pest? That had been Levi’s first speculation, being the paranoid clean freak he was. Before his guesses could get anymore creative he looked at the cup and saw the cup was stable on his desk. He had a grip, not on the cup itself but on the other hand which held the cup. The movements were from a hand underneath his..

A wild hand. It slipped out of his grip, and before Levi could pull away, it gripped him in return, squeezing harder on his pointer finger and his middle finger.

For just a second. A painfully awkward second.

A second of realization was all Levi needed to pull away. “May I help you?” he asked. It took a lot more willpower not to curse at that strange invasion of privacy. A second later, reason took over and Levi realized that he was the one who had gripped her first.

He had planned to grip the coffee cup, he justified himself.

“They said… You needed some coffee.” The voice was nonchalant. Yet somehow, nonchalance had managed to make his blood boil. “So I came here to drop it and say hi,” she added, as if that was the most natural response.

‘Say hi’ didn’t usually involve two hands gripping one another, then interlocking. Her hands were still gripping the tip of his fingers and for a second they were frozen.. “Are you always this touchy then?” Levi pressed. Especially with a total stranger. Levi looked up, turned his head towards the voice and confirmed it, she was definitely a familiar face but they were barely even acquaintances.

Brown hair tied up in a ponytail, glasses propped comfortably on her nose and just underneath them, warm brown eyes that had no problem just staring, studying… And in their own way, leaving Levi very very jarred by the mundane gesture called ‘eye contact.’

“I was hoping to talk for a bit,” she said. “If you’re not too busy, we can---”

“I’m busy right now,” Levi said. He pulled the coffee closer to him, suddenly careful when awareness dawned on him abruptly. Suddenly, he was completely aware that the coffee cup was only a few inches away from the computer. “Can this wait?”

Those brown eyes were suddenly wider, a hint of surprise. Then they narrowed at him and Levi felt some pity blanket his already sluggish and aimless movements. Before he knew it, he was very very unproductive.

He had to do something. “My name is Levi by the way.” He was deliberately gentler that time and usually lowering his voice and slowing down did some magic to make him seem kinder than he usually seemed to new people. Or so, that had been what Petra had advised multiple times before.

Levi looked up, forced a subtle smile, a combination between a tightlipped line and crinkles at the edge of his mouth. The most he could manage for a courteous introduction.

Her reaction was unexpected to say the least. He noticed her eyes first, the way they widened. Her jaw dropped. She closed it again, a subtle twitch in her lip.

Did I say something wrong? Levi thought to himself. He looked back at the computer screen. “Levi… Levi Ackerman,” he added. Would that help ease the tension of the room?

Even when Levi started to make a game for himself, playing video edits again and again, he realized he was more focused on pretending to concentrate than in actually polishing the transitions between scenes.

Hange eventually spoke up. “Hello Levi. Nice to meet you.” Her voice was softer in that last sentence.

“Nice to meet you too.” That had been surprisingly difficult to say. He sensed the discomfort in her voice, and maybe he had unknowingly mirrored it.

“My name is Hange Zoe. I’m going to be working as a screenwriter here…”

Oh. Oh. So that’s Hange Zoe. For someone who spearheaded blockbuster hits, who had people talking like crazy over rumors, it turned out she was a very underwhelming presence.

“I’m the cinematographer here,” Levi said. Technically, that was his job title but at that point, he was doing everything. “So I guess we’re going to be working together a lot.”

“We will,” Hange responded. Her presence was underwhelming. So underwhelming that Levi felt no need to even be excited that they had a prodigy screenwriter in their midst. Her voice was soft when she spoke to him. Her eyes were some mix of disappointment, nervousness, uncertainty.

Levi suspected it was her demeanor, her approach towards him that had caused such tension to settle in such a tiny room. “Thank you for coffee,” Levi said. Any nice gesture seemed like a worthwhile attempt to ease it.

A wide smile played at Hange’s lips, still far from what Levi would have considered confident though. “Happy to help.”

That’s the award winning screenwriter? “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“I’m going to be working on a few scripts tonight, have Erwin look at them in a day or so,” she said. Her voice had shifted to something more professional, and her meekness was starting to feel more like a misinterpretation on Levi's end..

“Looking forward to them,” Levi said.

The door slammed behind him, a little louder than the click that followed. The room was dim, it was almost distracting. When Levi turned towards the lights, he considered turning it on, to save himself the discomfort of sore eyes.

He turned his chair, put enough wait into one leg only to notice the sluggishness, the numbness underneath. His legs were jelly. Her hands were trembling and his breaths weren’t coming out in predictable bouts. He turned back to the computer and prepared to review what he had already edited.

The video was playing and Levi was convincing himself that he was productive.

Halfway through the episode, or even a quarter through the episode (Levi wasn’t counting), his mind had wandered. When his surroundings just became a little too overwhelming, Levi let loose just a little bit. He let the heaviness in his chest and the stiffness of his limbs speak for him then.

That voice of a while ago, Hange Zoe’s voice. That voice was nostalgic, heart wrenchingly nostalgic.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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cherry-interlude · 4 years ago

Text

Lana Del Rey Unreleased Ranking (5)

This is a re-ranking of Lana's unreleased songs, after making a first a few years ago. This is all my opinion, which I don't mind anyone disagreeing with but don't come for me for it - honestly, I like every song, despite any criticism, and this ranking is very vague. It's based on objective and subjective opinion.

This is the fifth of five posts, with my favourites.

Wild One

Lana is nostalgic without the sadness, remembering how she’d shake it for Mike but is embracing her freedom. She lets country influence seep through her voice and her uncomplicated instrumentals – it would be an unsurprising addition to Chemtrails

True Love On The Side

Though simple in structure and lyrics, it’s more Lana’s grittier rock sound and her incredible vocals that make this one of my favourite unreleased tracks. Lana lets herself go and goes full pop rock chick for this track, whilst keeping in with her ‘other woman’ trope that makes the song still familiar despite its departure from her usual music.

Driving In Cars With Boys

Dripping in nostalgia, Driving In Cars With Boys makes you yearn for the kind of 1950s/1960s era Lana often laments over. Lana is a bad girl just having fun, doing what she pleases and giving in to her vices, and it’s this kind of song that is relatable in its escapism and desire to just do what you please. There are two versions, one with a more monotone chorus that matches the rest of the verses and another where Lana sings in a higher register, letting her cheerful, breezy love for driving with the boys shine through in her vocals.

Angels Forever Forever Angels

Perfect for Paradise, Angels Forever Forever Angels has that slow, rhythmic summer drive feel, a relaxed version of Ride which also has associations with the bikers that feature in both the music video for Ride and the lyrics to this unreleased song. It’s dreamy but grounded by Lana’s patriotic love for the grungier side of Americana.

Hollywood

It has a breathy chorus you could sing to, the feeling of a summer evening and blue skies. The ever building and dropping beat that keeps the song ticking as restlessly as Lana’s hopes and dreams gets me feeling pumped as much as her emphasised, dragged out “Hollywood” in the chorus makes me soothed. Lana is wishing for fame and fortune but it has the feel of an eighties American teen movie, iconic and deserving of a cult following.

Yes To Heaven

Hazy like a daydream, Yes To Heaven is made of sunlight and soft grass, closer to nature than the spotlights of Lana’s often alcohol-soaked, money drenched stages. Lana’s voice is tentative until it shimmers in the chorus, and though it was made for Ultraviolence, it wouldn’t be out of place on the shining beacon of hope that is Lana’s positive turn, Lust For Life.

Life Is Beautiful

This gorgeous song was intended for Age of Adaline’s trailer, and it’s been years of waiting for the full song to be released. Now we have it, it’s certainly worth the wait. Dreamy and soft, this track is a timeless classic that could underwhelm from it’s gentle feel but works perfectly well as a pure little love song.

On Our Way

Stripped back and with a country twang, Lana doesn’t add fuss and frills to this song, instead just crooning precisely how she feels in the kind of song that keeps you daydreaming for hours. Not even the smattering of her favourite imagery (Chevrolets and K-Mart lip gloss) overshadows the love that’s at the forefront of this track.

Never Let Me Go

Like On Our Way, Never Let Me Go has the country twang and stripped back feel that makes this a more subdued song, her lyrics shining even more. Lana’s additional strings layer this song well and her comparisons to the dangerous couple that is Sid and Nancy gives this track an edge, keeping it from being too frothy.

French Restaurant

A piano ballad, Lana strips back the hurt of Without You and dual dedication of Video Games to sing about how fame matters so little to her while she’s torn between two men. Her voice is beautiful and it does well to be so minimal in its production, her emotion driving the song clearly enough. Especially pretty are the backing vocals of the choruses, echoes of her thoughts that hammer home her broken feelings.

Trash Magic

Lana’s delicate and soft vocals help tie into the Lolita-esque character Lana often plays in her music. It has a similar feel to 1949, dripping with her delicious imagery, and wouldn’t be out of place on AKA Lizzy Grant. Lana is the fragile ‘daddy’s girl’ again in this song, and the sharp yet soothing music in the background sets the tone for a quiet trailer park night.

Us Against The World

Though fairly chilled out, Lana still hooks listeners with her characterisation of waitress by day/stripper by night, a dangerous girl tempting an equally dangerous guy. Lana drips sexiness in this song and though it’s not as exciting as some of her other unreleased pop hits, it is perfect for the Del Rey character.

Your Girl

Much like Caught You Boy, Lana is desperate for a man she can’t have but is instead a complete wreck. Lana just repeats over and over how she wishes she was this man’s girl, practically pleading after describing how she needs to be led off the stage from falling apart. Yet it’s still sultry, still passionate, and is topped off by her honey-like vocal demonstration in the bridge and the chorus.

Roses

Lana is the other woman with a twist – instead of moping about her man (Other Woman, Sad Girl) she is taking action. Fighting against him, not letting him go without making some noise and getting rid of his girlfriend, Lana storms into the song with a vengeful wrath and calls him out for his poor attempts at apologies. When this song first came out, I adored it, since it was the exact kind of strong-girl track I wanted from her with a great hook and all the right Lana-isms. Now, I still get that thrill listening to this song and its kick-ass fuck-you to the man she loves.

Playing Dangerous

The churning drums, the spoken verses and the coy vocals set this song apart from her others. It falls shorter during the choruses, the verses being the best parts of the track, but the way Lana interacts with the listener ultimately and is a more direct character of ‘innocent’ seductress who might actually be downright bad (arson is hinted).

Serene Queen

Lana is unbothered and unruffled, as collected as she is in Put Your Lips Together but this time with a definite Ultraviolence/Honeymoon feel. Lana is unshaken by the blazing guns, instead completely calm with her dangerous lover, questioning why he even has a problem in the first place. As it picks up in the chorus, almost smirking, it becomes one of her finer unreleased songs yet.

Ave Maria

This is just an instrumental but there’s something so beautifully haunting about it. It wouldn’t be out of place in a Hollywood movie, with shades of the Lolita soundtrack instantly coming to mind when it first starts. It even works well without singing, and I hope we get a full version soon.

Puppy Love

From the perspective of a Marilyn Monroe figure, Lana plays the teenage girl wishing for a traditional romance with her lover. It’s ever-so-adorable, harking back to the sweeter parts of the fifties, but there’s a sense of sadness throughout it. Under the surface of the puppy love is the reality that the references to Monroe do not forget her sadness, loneliness and ultimately her overdose. The tone shifts to such an unhappiness in the bridge, directly calling back to Monroe’s phone call shortly before she overdosed, twisting the song to something more melancholic.

Cherry Blossom

The lullaby that grew into the marvellous, completed Cherry Blossom is a lovely tribute to someone small and beloved. Though Lana doesn’t have children yet, the care in her voice and each of her heart-warming compliments and promises is still thoroughly enjoyable – and comforting.

Colour Blue

In a song that reminds me of the love/hate relationship of Norman Fucking Rockwell, Lana takes her time to question why she loves the men that she does and, ultimately, grow from it, beginning to want something different. It’s raw and personal, with a gushing chorus that is complimented fully by the guitar. This song is blue all over, from Lana's opening harmonisation to her abrupt, unhappy ending.

Paradise

This song is, of course, pure paradise. A summery beat, a flippant Lana simply enjoying her lover no matter how long she’ll have him for and her coos of “sick!” and “that’s dope!” make this into a tasty distraction fit for the sunny months. Her casualness in this track is fresh as well as the dance-happy music that she doesn’t often create in her albums.

Meet Me In The Pale Moonlight

Lana is the waitress with a crush in this bop of a track, trying to convince a guy to get with her instead of that “bitch”. Convincing she is, as she uses all of her charm, wit and insistence that there’s no promises behind her intentions to have a good time with him. It’s just a breath of fresh air compared to a lot of her music, not too heavy and perfectly polished. It’s self-assured as much as it is breezy, and calm as it is it’s still a riot to listen to.

Caught You Boy

A dream-esque confession of desire, obsession and pure, crazy love, Lana isn’t outright insane in this track (Kinda Outta Luck, Jealous Girl, Serial Killer) but she hints towards being slightly too attached to her beau and describing herself as an army of one. The song is sweet and flowery but there’s a sadness and danger to it that keeps it from being too sugary.

Fine China

Some of Lana’s best lyrics are in Fine China as she sings of her fractured relationship, unhappy wedding and many beautiful yet easily broken things. It’s a slow, unfussy ballad but her strong voice and stunning lyrics make it so much more than a throwaway unreleased song.

Thunder

What feels like a coming-of-age slow dance song but is ultimately a choir-backed break-up track. Lana’s lyrics are clever and her voice is the perfect complement to The Last Shadow Puppets, this combined work a sure hit that deserves some kind of release and recognition. Lana is frustrated but tender as she leads the song with plenty of presence.

Prom Song Gone Wrong

The fifties feel, the teenage romance, the warm and gorgeous vocals that switch from dreamily longing to a cheeky talk-rap suggest this is a song tied tightly to Puppy Love, except with a more hopeful feel to it. Lana is ready to leave and she wants her lover to come with her, and even if it’s a youthful mistake there’s no mistaking that the love she – and her man – feels is real. It’s a pretty dedication to the kind of head-spinning romance of younger years, though it has an edge to it. Lana’s choruses are desperate, her pleading genuine and the strange way the music builds and collapses right at the end give the illusion all isn’t the sunshine and rainbows Lana sings of – and hopes for.

#lana del rey #lana del rey songs #lana del rey unreleased #cherry-interlude

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softcannoli · 4 years ago

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you are the person who got me to watch the untamed and now I am BEGGING you to tell me what guardian is and where I can watch it.. is there time travel because sometimes I see two gifsets that do not seem like they're from the same show

ooohhhhhhhhohohohohohohohoohohhooo ohhhhhhh boy where do i even start

so uhhhhh Guardian is an on-fire trashcan of a show and also the only thing I've been able to think about for like a month. It's based on the novel of the same name by Priest, which I have not yet read but have heard is very good.

I say "based on" bc I have been given to understand that it is a VERY loose adaptation, bc the novel is pretty much entirely about That Gay Shit™, the undead, reincarnation, and literal gods, all of which IIRC are big no-nos under censorship laws. So the show had to get a little creative, and so now it's about aliens? and time travel? sort of? It's weird, but that's okay, because the show is far more interested in the homoerotic subtext, of which there is OODLES.

So basically our two main characters are:

Zhao Yunlan, who is a regular human dude who is in charge of Special Investigations Department, or SID, which is essentially the department of Supernatural Monster Cops, who are responsible for making sure superpowered underground alien people don't come up to the surface and run roughshod over regular humans, and

Shen Wei, a mild-mannered university professor who is Actually Ten Thousand Years Old, and is also secretly a superpowered underground alien person. He knew a dude 10,000 years ago who looks exactly like Zhao Yunlan for unknown (timey-wimey) reasons, and was very obviously in love with him, so when he meets Zhao Yunlan he is IMMEDIATELY lost in the yearning.

There's also a bunch of other people who work under Zhao Yunlan in the SID, and they are all absolutely delightful and have a whole found-family sort of dynamic going on.

Is this a good show? I think if I'm being totally honest I would have to say no? But is terrible in a bunch of truly delightful ways. The CGI is literally shit-tier. Some of the props could not more obviously be made out of craft foam and paper-mache. The quality of the dubbing work is really uneven, and by the last 15 episodes or so they seem to completely give up and some of the lines are dubbed over by someone who is CLEARLY not the same voice are the person speaking. A lot of the writing choices make NO sense, and the plot starts to go completely off the rails somewhere just past the halfway point. (there's also some stuff that is bad in like, a bad way, but I'll talk about that a bit at the end of the post)

The thing about this show is that it's gay. Like GAY gay. Like The Untamed was pretty gay, but I could conceivably see someone cover their ears and shut their eyes to all the gay subtext in that show and convince themselves there's a heterosexual explanation for everything. Not so with Guardian. Like, I really, legitimately cannot fathom even the most willfully ignorant person not picking up on the vibes between Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei. I simply cannot picture it. There is, in fact, NO heterosexual explanation for them.

The show throws in the most flimsy, half-hearted nods to the idea that Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei are just Good Platonic Buddies, and then in the next scene will just drop in a 5-10 minute sequence of Shen Wei taking a sick Zhao Yunlan home, tucking him into bed, staring at his sleeping face with a face full of tenderness and longing, and then cleaning his apartment and folding his laundry for him. It's fucking unreal.

The show was very clearly trying to push the limits of subtext to see exactly how much they could get away with, and as far as I can tell the answer they got was "not that much", bc I've heard some suggestion that the show was pulled shortly after broadcast for another round of edits.

So it's on Viki, but if you don't want to pay for a streaming service and don't mind sliiiightly sketchier subs, it's also on Youtube! It might be some other places too, but those are the ones I know about.

I'm going to stop now bc this post could seriously be like 5 times longer but please watch Guardian and join me in my daily cries about Shen Wei (Zhao Yunlan can come too I guess, but it's mostly about Shen Wei, bc of the inherent eroticism of loyalty and life debts)

Lastly, bc I would be remiss not to mention it, here's some warnings about the worst things I can remember off the top of my head. I personally still think the show was well worth watching, but there's a few things I sort of wish I had known going into it, beyond the vague warning "the ending sucks". It's gonna be spoilers, so read at your own risk.

There's some talk about suicide in the first arc which isn't really that bad in the grand scheme of things, but can come across as dismissive and/or insensitive. There's an arc somewhere in the mid-20s that leans on some really ableist "split-personality" tropes. I will fully admit that the only thing that kept me watching at that point was the knowledge that this would be over in an episode or two, and the fact that the youtube subtitles translated comments about other character's behavior as "cringe", which I found an extremely funny translation choice.

And lastly, the finale. The finale is bad in a number of ways, but the biggest and easiest to explain is that the show goes full Bury Your Gays and kills off both Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan. ( and then another entity takes control of Zhao Yunlan's body?? so the general public doesn't actually know he's dead?? which I found pretty uncomfortable) But like basically my view of the ending is that if something bad happened, No It Didn't. Which seems to be the general opinion, since apparently Priest went back and wrote an extra epilogue chapter to fix the drama's ending.

#guardian #zhen hun #镇魂 #i could talk about this show for hours #actually no i couldn't bc after like 2 minutes it would dissolve into inhoherent wailing #i'm literally obsessed with shen wei #idk how he is in the book like if he's different or anything #but drama!shen wei has an anxious energy to him the i find highly interesting and relatable as someone who was raised catholic #like i can say with complete confidence that shen wei is not and never has been catholic but he 100% has catholic guilt #i love him #literally i can't go longer than 6 hours without thinking about hi #m #i also love zhao yunlan but i think it's very funny that i mostly didn't care THAT much about him except bc shen wei loved him #until the show was like 'oh by the way he has daddy issues' at which point i was instantly like 'ohhh??? 👀👀👀👀'#what can i say? i like my men fucked up and emotionally dysfunctional #ask #jesperr-fahey

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totaldramafan-lauri · 6 years ago

Text

Yearning

W-well...here it is. The product of two weeks’ work.

A couple months ago, I got inspired to start planning a multi-chapter self-ship fanfic, but since I hadn’t written detailed fic in literal years, I wanted to do an unrelated one-shot to kinda...warm up a little, to see if that’s something I really do wanna do...I’m still unsure if it’ll happen, but I did the warmup, and...it became this THING.

This is based on the Vampire!Spinel AU from @su-reader-imagines, which...I ended up liking, like...way too much. X///D I’m not even a vampire fan normally, but...maybe it was the Spinel part. >/////> I-I won’t link the specific post since there’s NSFW content in it and I don’t wanna make anyone read it if they’re not comfortable with that stuff, but...this story in particular has no blatant NSFW (just implied stuff).

Since I started off writing this for myself, I had planned for this to be self-insert, but then I decided to make it more reader-insert to match the original imagine. However, the first-person POV remained, so it’s...weird. The narrator isn’t mentioned by name and details about them are vague, but it’s still kinda my personality, so....it STILL might be more self-insert then reader-insert? I dunno, it’s kinda in the middle...I-I’m not used to this...

It’s probably obvious that I don’t normally make this kinda stuff, but I still did my best...I didn’t expect this to get as long as it did, but I’m a detail-oriented, overexplaining piece of crap, simply put. X////D

Even if nothing comes of this, I at least finished it, and I’m.....kinda p-proud of that, even if....it’s kinda embarrassing....S-so if you read this, I...h-hope y-you...enjoy.....>///////<

Now if you e-excuse me I’m gonna find a dumpster to hide in....

Yandere warning for the very end!

---

It had been a few days since then, but I was still reeling. A part of me was still in disbelief. That couldn't have been real, could it? I mean...something like that, happening to me of all people? I had always been down on my luck...Ignoreable. Average. There was nothing about me worth noting. Occasionally, something good would happen, sure...but nothing like that.

But then I'd look at myself in the mirror, and see the marks on my neck. And I'd be brought back to that night. It was real.

My mind would fill with overwhelming emotions whenever I'd think about it...and whenever I'd close my eyes, I'd see her there in front of me.

Looking back at me with red eyes, grinning playfully, her fangs showing. I'd see myself laying on my back, her hands all over me, as I let her do whatever she wanted...The heat in my body, rising....The sound of her voice, teasing me...

"Spinel..."

Her name, escaping my lips.

Luckily, no one was around to hear, but I caught myself anyway, snapping back to reality. I'd been standing there in the bathroom in front of the mirror for how long? A few minutes? And after I'd already relieved myself? I flushed in embarrassment. Get it together, I thought to myself. After splashing some water on my face, I went back to work.

Never before had work been so frustrating. I couldn't focus on anything. My pace was so sluggish that it felt like I was moving underwater. And I had to keep a poker face the entire time. I couldn't let anyone know what happened. They wouldn't believe me! They'd think I was crazy! And maybe I was, but I didn't wanna bring attention to it. I had already been getting some looks from coworkers due to my neck, but no one asked me about it. That was good. I tried to imagine myself attempting to explain in the sanest way, "Yeeeeaaah, I met an actual vampire and let her drink from me." Yeah, that wasn't happening. I hadn't believed they existed, either, until I met her.

I tried everything I could to distract myself, but the fluttering in my chest would just keep coming back...It was like she had left her mark on me in more than one way...

Even before I knew what she was, she still seemed like someone who would only exist in my dreams. She was lively and interesting, with a unique way of talking and dressing. Even her name was unique. She was charismatic, and confident...and she had a voice that you loved listening to. The way she could switch between playful and downright seductive...Just thinking about it...about the kind of things she said to me...

There was no way I was her first. She was way too good at that. But the very idea that someone like her could pay attention to me, and treat me so well...I should consider myself lucky to have spent just the one night with her...right?

So...what was this yearning I felt...? Was I really that needy...?

The memories were so fresh...Me and her, in the back room, making out, and her drinking from me...and then making me the happiest I had ever been in my life. In that perfect moment, I didn't want anything else. I just wanted to do whatever she told me to. I was hers, and hers alone...

I didn't expect to spend the entire night with her, but I was riding that high for so long. I didn't wanna leave her arms. The aftercare...I could still feel her icy hands trailing down my back. I could still hear her voice, cooing in my ear, telling me what a good girl I was...It had made me so happy, knowing I pleased her...

I remember all the little petnames she called me. My favorite was "doll". That was the one that made me feel the most...special. And I think she caught on to that, because she'd call me it again and again. I was her doll. At that time, I existed only to make her happy, and I was doing my job!

Spinel's doll...

"Stay with me a bit longer? Please~?" she asked, while gently rubbing my back.

"I...wanna stay..." I answered, still dizzy, "But...will we...get in trouble...?"

She chuckled. "Nah, we won't. I told ya, I know the guy. No one's gonna bother us, I promise~..." she assured me gently.

"OK...I'll stay then..."

I turned around and subconsciously scooted into her a bit more, wanting to be as close to her as possible. She didn't seem to mind, putting her arm around me and holding me from behind. My heart felt like it was about to burst...I'd never experienced this level of intimacy before, and this was just the icing on the cake.

"Mmmm, you're so warm, doll~..."

At that comment, I'm sure I got even warmer. I felt so weak, but so happy. We simply laid there in silence, with her occasionally breaking it to hum to me. Soon, I felt myself get drowsy. It was getting late, but...I didn't wanna move.

"...Spinel?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"I'm...getting tired...Is it OK if I fall asleep...?"

"Course it is. You've earned it, toots..." she spoke softly, "And don't worry...I'll still be here when ya wake up~."

After she gave her permission, I drifted off to sleep, which ended up lasting all night. And sure enough, she had told the truth, as I woke up still in her arms.

And I panicked.

I jolted upright and frantically checked the time. I didn't know it would be all night! Oh crap! How would I explain myself!?

I told her I had to go.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because my mom's probably worried sick about- er", Did I really just reveal to her that I still live with my mom? "-I live with my mom, and I've never stayed the night without saying anything, so-" I felt increasingly awkward with every word that came out of my mouth. "And, and...crap, I have work! Wait, that's tomorrow..."

She tried to calm me down, but at that point, I couldn't. My anxiety was through the roof. This was supposed to be a simple trip to a bar, to try something new. But I ended up staying the night at the place with someone I just met. And it was incredible. But now that it was over, everything catching up to me, I just felt bad. I felt...guilty. I took up so much of Spinel's time. She was most likely most active at night, and I kept her in one place for so long. And compared to her, I was practically nothing. I didn't deserve any of that...but she gave it to me anyway. I was a piece of crap who wasted her time.

So all I could do was apologize. "I-I'm so sorry!" I cried out, jumping to my feet. I wobbled a little before steadying myself.

And...she let me go. She didn't protest at all, saying that it was fine, she wasn't keeping me there. She was calm throughout my freak out. She remained sitting in bed, at first with an amused grin...but when I apologized, she looked away. I couldn't see her face anymore, and her voice became more monotone than ever.

"You can leave if ya want," she said.

She didn't care anymore, I could tell. I overstayed my welcome for sure.

Before leaving the room, I turned around one last time, giving a quick but honest "thanks" for the incredible night together...and she finally looked back at me, with a slight smile.

And now...here I was. Stuck in a perpetual daydream, trying to keep myself together. A coworker's voice snapped me out of my memory of the last time I saw her. I quickly apologized, trying my darnedest to keep that poker face I always wore, but it was harder than ever.

Ugh, I'm such a mess...What did you do to me?

My mind was filled with questions. Just who was she? Where was she from? Was she born a vampire, or did she become one? How long has she been alive? What kind of things does she like to do? Does she have friends? There was so much I didn't know about her...I'd been too caught up in the moment to think about those things that night, but now, I couldn't help but feel curious.

I couldn't get her off my mind...As the week went by, I tried to piece myself back together. I tried to think rationally, telling myself to let it go, it'll never happen again, and so on. But nothing worked. The fluttering in my heart wouldn't stop. At first, I hated it, but now, when it was undeniable, I finally had to give in to my feelings...and I finally put together the words in my head that had been so obvious the whole time.

Wanna see her again.

I knew that could easily go badly, knowing me. I'd never been good at social situations, always opting to stay on the sidelines so I wouldn't embarrass myself. If I really knew what's best for me, I'd quit while I'm ahead, right?

But the more time passed, the more agonizing it got...I missed her voice, her touch, her eyes, her lips...everything. After only one night, I already felt so empty without her, so longing...I wanted to be her doll again. Was that so wrong...?

Wanna see her again...

For a while, I was being pulled in two directions, with another part of me shouting that it was a bad idea. Being brave is always a bad idea to me. But I couldn't help it. So I told myself, that, once the weekend came...I'd go with my gut, for once.

Wanna see her again...

---

This was a mistake.

Coming back here was a mistake. That's all I could think of as I sat there, alone, staring at my lap. Here I was at the bar again, but now what? Why didn't I have a plan?

I remembered why I don't come to these kind of places often - I always feel out of place at them. The kinds of people who go here are usually the polar opposite of me...loud, social, sometimes even aggressive, with eye-catching outfits...and there I was, trying not to stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe if I'm quiet, they won't notice me, I thought, I gotta not bring attention to myself...

"Can I get you anything?" an annoyed-sounding voice asked.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the bartender spoke to me. When did he get there? I hadn't heard him approach! "Um, nothing! No thanks!" I said quickly. I wasn't here for the food or the drinks.

But the way the man looked at me told me I probably should have ordered something. I mean, who comes to a bar just to sit there awkwardly, right? I mean, besides me. Based on the clock on the wall, I had been here for...almost twenty minutes already? I averted my eyes and spun myself around so that my back was facing the counter, as if that would shield me from the embarrassment.

My eyes scanned the room, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of the one person I wanted to see. There were a fair number of people, but she was still nowhere to be found. I sighed, feeling my heart sink.

She had told me she came here twice a week, and it had been exactly a week since then, so...it would make sense for her to be here tonight, right? Or was she more unpredictable? She did seem like that type...Or maybe it was me. Maybe she was here, just avoiding me...No, no, that can't be it, can it?

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, trying to expel that thought from my mind. Then I looked up again, watching people dancing to the music playing. My mind was instantly brought back to dancing with her that night, before she led me away. I had no idea what I was in for. All I was concerned with was dancing with this attractive lady and hopefully not making a fool of myself. I remember it feeling like the temperature in the room was rising...she had been so close...

I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. I thought that maybe, she'd like to see me again, since it had seemed like she liked taking care of me...but I was stupid to think that.

Did I really think I was worth anything to her? If I was, she wouldn't have let me leave so easily. She could've just as easily convinced me to stay. She had marked me. There was evidence I was hers. She could've told me I wasn't to leave without her permission. Or heck, she could've told me she was worried about me after how weak I'd been! But no. She was simply done with me after that.

I was just a food source, that's all. She just indulged me afterward because it was so obvious I was into her. She was humoring me. Why didn't I piece that together? Was I really that stupid? Just look at me!

I started chewing on my fingers nervously as my anxiety took control. Desperate, I scanned the room once again. Did that person just look at me!? I looked away, still chewing. I didn't just bring attention to myself, did I? Was I staring? I turned back around to the counter, looking at the clock instead.

A half hour. I'd been just sitting here doing nothing for a half hour. Great.

Thank god the place wasn't too packed. And that the bartender was pretending I wasn't there at the moment. It was then that I had a thought: maybe he knew her. I could've asked him if she was here. But no, that'd be too awkward for words..."Excuse me sir, is Spinel here?" Though I didn't fully doubt I wouldn't be the first to ask that...

Maybe...she's with someone else right now...

That thought hit me harder than anything else, and I finally started to break down. I leaned against the counter, my head in my hands, trying to compose myself for a few minutes. I couldn't stay here much longer...the music, the voices, the looks, I had to get out soon-

"Hello, nurse~"

When I heard that familiar greeting, my eyes snapped open, and I slowly uncovered my face. Was it really...? There was no way I was hearing things, right?...After a couple seconds, I looked over...and there she was.

She was looking right at me, a playful smirk on her face, in the same way as I remembered. Her hair was back up in pigtails, too. It was like I had stepped back in time...I felt the heat rise to my face, my mouth hanging open. This was really happening. She was actually here! Now what!?

Say something! "Uhhh..." I cleared my throat. "Hey..."

She giggled. That alone caused my heart to do flips. "Well, gee~" she said, almost innocently, as she took a step toward me, "What brings your pretty face back to a place like this? Is it the drinks? The tunes?" she tilted her head, "The entertainment?"

I could tell she was teasing me. What I couldn't tell was whether or not she was mocking me. I knew I didn't fit in, but having it implied by her made me feel a bit embarrassed. Still, she had approached me...Just when I was worrying this was hopeless, she approached me, just like I wanted...Now more than ever, I wish I had a plan, because I felt like all I could do was sit there, my eyes fixed on her. I didn't know I would get this far...I was so sure I was fooling myself...

"Er...um, well..." I laughed nervously, "I-I know, I don't look the part...but that doesn't mean you gotta rub it in..."

"Oh, I didn't say there was anything wrong with that!" she replied, "I know that a lotta people have secrets to hide...And I'm sure you have your own reasons for bein' here~"

My own reasons...I felt my heartbeat pick up speed at that. She knows. Once again, I made it obvious. Every part of me was calling out for her, wanting me to spill out all my feelings to her...She's right there. Don't back down. Don't run away.

"Y-yeah, you could, say that I-ah!"

Just when I began talking, she leaned down to be at eye level with me. My body tensed up, and my words got caught in my throat. Her face was very close, to the point where I could feel her breath on my skin...She was still smiling, but there was an intensity in her eyes that I'd never seen before. I could only imagine how red my face was at that moment..."A-ah..." I didn't move an inch, but I looked to the side to see if anyone was watching us. It didn't look like it.

Then she reached out and touched my neck. I inhaled sharply as a shiver raced down my spine. She was just as cold as I remember, a sensation I didn't know I liked before...but I welcomed it. I had missed her touch so much...Her fingertips gently brushed against the spot where my marks were healing, and she stared there silently. Her other hand went to my thigh. The intimacy of the moment made me feel like I was gonna burst...

"Miss me, doll?" she spoke again, softly, as her eyes met mine.

I practically melted when I heard my favorite nickname again. I managed a nod. "Mhm..."

A hum. "Good..." she crooned. Then she leaned in further and kissed my cheek. It was small, but it was enough to make all my previous worries disappear...and make me want more. "C'mon," she patted my thigh before taking one of my hands in hers, standing up straight. I followed her lead and stood up as well. And, as if history was repeating, she proceeded to lead me to the back room, where it could be just the two of us.

I liked holding her hand. It felt...assuring, in a way. It made me feel like she really did want me here, and that coming back was the right choice. I didn't know what would happen next...Was she gonna drink from me again? Did she just wanna talk? Or will she...indulge me again? All I knew was that, for now, things felt right.

"S-Spinel?"

"Hmmmmm~?"

"I...I was wondering...uh..."

This was the time to start getting to know her better. I had so many questions for her, so many things I was curious about...but I was getting tongue-tied. Great. Why did I have to be so easy to fluster? It was getting difficult to put my thoughts into words, and I mentally kicked myself. I can't lose my nerve now!

She giggled. "It's OK, dearie~" she said, and squeezed my hand as we continued walking, "You don't have to say anything right now. Take your time. It's not like I'm gettin' any older!"

She laughed at her little joke, and I did, too. Her laughter was contagious. Either that, or I was so enamored with her that I'd follow anything she did. I couldn't tell yet.

But I still wanted to say more. Where would I even start, though? She was such a mystery...I guess there'd be time for that later. Yeah. Later, after I calm down. If she'd let me calm down, that is.

We entered the back room, and I looked around as she closed the door behind us. Had she taken anyone else down here since then? That was my first thought, but I quickly shook it out. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that I was here again. There was no one else here. It was just me and her. Me and Spinel. And Spinel was holding my hand right now...

Almost immediately after she closed the door, she suddenly pulled me towards her, and into a kiss. I squeaked in surprise, before closing my eyes and letting my feelings completely take me over. I felt her free hand trail up my back, slowly, softly, and I felt my whole body flush. This...this was what I had wanted...It was like I never left...

The kiss was short, too short. She pulled away, and I opened my eyes to see her smiling softly at me. It wasn't the teasing grin that she usually wore. She looked more...sincere. I smiled back, in complete bliss.

"I didn't think you'd come back", she said.

"You...didn't...?"

"No one does. It's always one and done with people", she chuckled softly, looking away from me. "They give me what I want once, then never come back. So I always gotta move on to the next one."

This shocked me. Was I really the first one to do this? No one else has ever come back after the first time? I found that unbelievable...I was such a coward...so why me, of all people?

"It gets lonely..." she brought my hand to her face, "even when I'm not alone, I'd still feel so lonely..."

My face fell as her words hit me.

Spinel was...lonely...?

She seemed to carry herself with such confidence, so I never would've guessed...She seemed like someone who would have many friends, and many people vying for her attention. Especially considering how good she was at...what she does...I guess being a vampire would lead to some difficulties with getting people to stick around? I guess not many people wanna experience that more than once...Did she scare them? I remember being scared at first...but she had taken such good care of me that I wasn't scared anymore...She wasn't intimidating, was she? How can someone not enjoy her company?

Was it, maybe...that no one felt they were worthy of her attention?

Already, I was learning more about her, and it wasn't what I was expecting at all...I wanted to help her, but I didn't know how. I was pretty lonely myself. Not many people could bring themselves to give a crap about me. Could it be...that we had something in common?

I didn't know what to say. I didn't wanna ask her about it. She seemed happy to see me, and I didn't wanna ruin it. So, I simply apologized. "I'm....sorry...."

And immediately, she looked back at me, and the playfulness returned.

"Awww, don't be sorry, doll~" she cooed, "Now I know that you're not like that! And that makes me so happy...knowing you're just as special as I thought you were~"

Heat rushed to my cheeks at her words. "I-I'm really not that special..." I tried my best not to stumble over my words, and began talking faster, "I...I just wanted to...to get to know you better, that's all. And I didn't expect myself to get this far, to be honest..." I forced a laugh.

"But you are special!" she disagreed, "Take it from someone who knows uniqueness when she sees it..."

She finally let go of my hand and wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me close to her. She leaned down, bringing her face close to mine. My heart was about ready to burst out of my chest...

"The way you're lookin' at me right now...I've never seen anything like it."

Before I could say anything more, she brought her lips to mine in a passionate kiss, much longer and more heated than the last. I tried to kiss her back, but she completely overpowered me, denying me barely any room to breathe. I could barely even think as she made out with me, her hands wandering all over my body, claiming every part of me. She was so cold, but she made me feel so warm...I loved it. Finally giving in, I wrapped my arms around her, moaning weakly. She giggled in response, a noise I couldn't get enough of.

For that moment, it felt like she wanted me as much as I wanted her.

Once she pulled back, I was panting, elated, but a complete mess in her arms. I could only imagine what I looked like. I must've looked pathetic, my mouth hanging open as she left it, my face flushed, my eyes closed. My legs felt like jelly, so I leaned into her, resting on her shoulder as I caught my breath. She let out an airy chuckle, sounding breathless as well. I felt one of her hands stroking my back. I tried to collect my thoughts about what just happened. Holy crap that was incredible, you're so perfect, Spinel, thank you, I'm so sorry I left, I don't wanna leave again, I'll let you have me for as long as you want...I'm yours now, I'm yours...

I'd never felt so desperate for someone in my whole life...She was almost intoxicating. Part of me knew I should try and resist, try to be rational...but the rest of me didn't care. I'd been yearning for this all week, and all that frustration had finally paid off...

"How lucky I was to come across a dame like you", she spoke seductively into my ear, "So cute...so sensitive...and so...delicious~" she whispered the last word. I shivered, gripping her tighter as if it'll save me from melting into a puddle on the floor.

All I could do was whimper in response, causing another chuckle from her.

"That's right, doll, I mean every word..." she continued, "And ya came back, just to see me...You're such a sweet thing~. In fact," Both of her hands began wandering up my back, resting on my shoulders, "I missed ya more then ya thought I did...I missed holdin' ya like this...Touchin' ya like this...Do ya believe me? I've been so, so lonely...I missed ya, my sweet doll..."

'My sweet doll'. 'MY'. I felt my heart soar at her words. Spinel missed me...! And I made her happy...!

"...And now, I'm never lettin' ya go again."

Her voice suddenly took on a tone I'd never heard before...Darker, more growly, with her accent more pronounced. My eyes finally snapped open again as she aggressively jerked me back by my shoulders, pushing me into the nearest wall, pinning me there. My heart was racing a mile a minute as I could only look up at her. She was grinning widely, and not in her normal way. This grin was manic, predatory, and it made me begin to shiver. What was going on? What was she gonna do? I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Warning bells were going off in my mind, but I was frozen like a deer in headlights.

And then, her eyes began to glow. Her red eyes were already one of her most noticeable features, but now, they were the brightest thing in the dark room. I squinted at the light, and instinctively tried to look away, but a hand went to my face, forcing me to look at it. I didn't know what was happening, but I would bear with it for her. And so, I braced myself. My first guess was that she would drink from me again, and I welcomed that thought. She was welcome to use me in that way if she wanted...

But nothing happened. As I continued looking at her, the tension in my body disappeared, and I stopped trembling. In fact, I began to feel weak in the knees. She wasn't saying anything, and she still got that reaction out of me...The sight of her face so close to mine, looking like she could ravage me at any moment...and I, the prey, was so helpless, pinned against the wall...This was an image I never wanted to forget.

With each passing second, I felt myself melt more and more, to the point where my legs started to give out. I slid down the wall a little, and then her hands went under my arms, helping me stay on my feet. But even then, it kept getting worse.

"S-Spinel..." I breathed out, attempting to speak, "I-I feel...I can't...." The sentences weren't forming. I felt my body grow numb, the only thing keeping me from collapsing on the ground being her arms...

"Shhh...Don't worry", she said, her voice as smooth as butter, "I got'cha~"

My vision was starting to blur, but I couldn't look away from her. Her gorgeous eyes were unblinking as she looked back at me, the eerie red glow making them all the more beautiful. I was putty in her hands...It was as if there was nothing else around me...nothing else that mattered. It was just her.

Just Spinel, the woman of my dreams.

My eyelids began to grow heavy, my body fully limp. With the last of my consciousness, I realized that this sensation wasn't normal. Was she doing this? I would've been scared had I caught on earlier, but now, I didn't care. I just wanted to stay like this...it felt so good...

"That's it...~" she purred, "Now, close your eyes for me...Just relax for a bit, and let me take care of everything~"

That was the last thing I heard before I closed my eyes, and quickly passed out in her arms.

When I woke up, I was in a place I had never seen before.

#hypnotism tw-/////#yandere tw-////#not tagging with anything else nope not brave enough #fics by lauri

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onwardintolight · 6 years ago

Link

Han x Leia, ESB, Trip to Bespin, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Summary: ESB from Leia's POV. A journey from despair to hope, a blossoming, an opening to vulnerability and love.

Warnings: Deals with some heavy themes, incl. working through trauma, depression, self-harm, attempted sexual assault. Each chapter will be individually warned.

Note: I’m currently in the process of reposting the first nine chapters here in full, since when I first wrote this fic, I only shared links to the chapters on AO3 and FFN. I will try to post at least weekly. In the meantime, if you’d prefer to binge-read it, the entire fic is posted in full on AO3 and FFN.

Part: Masterlist | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | Epilogue

Soundtrack

~~~

Warnings for Chapter 11: none

~~~

Leia sat on the floor of the main hold, going through Han’s music selection. He was in the far circuitry bay tinkering, but he’d answered a query of hers before he left by pointing her towards the wall compartment where the music datacards were stored, all in a jumbled heap. She’d raised an eyebrow at the mess, then gathered them up and set them on the floor, sorting them alphabetically as she perused with interest.

She examined one of them closer. Kloo Horn Blues by Figrin D’an and the Modal Nodes: she’d vaguely heard that the jizz band was popular in the Outer Rim. She’d have to give it a listen sometime. Nebula Songs by Aurodia Ventafoli—a classic; it seemed like everyone in the galaxy knew and loved the “Chanteuse of the Stars.” Her music practically dripped with romance, and Leia made a mental note of it for later (just in case). More jizz bands she wasn’t very familiar with. Khyyynett, the late Wookiee clarion trumpeter—probably one of Chewie’s favorites. Kor Vella Fever by The Bloodstripes, the upbeat album they’d listened to towards the beginning of the trip, and Those Old Spacer Blues by Grondorn Muse, another Corellian who had performed once or twice for the Alliance.

There were some classical albums: Kithra and Berltagh’s sonatas, Mondegrene’s Fugue in K. She gasped to see Tofli Argala’s Spring Symphony; the Nabooian composer’s masterpiece was often played in the Organa household while she was growing up. There were a few dance albums, too: the critically acclaimed B’ssa Nuuvu by Telindel and Saerlock, and even the Alderaanian band Heartbeat of Istabith, which increased her nostalgia even more.

Suddenly, Leia froze, eyes widening at the name spelled out on the datacard she’d just picked up. Melodic Order. That was the Alderaanian cloister choir she’d rescued after the Battle of Yavin! How had Han known about them? Their music was so unlike anything else in his collection; contemplative and ethereal and so very classically Alderaanian that she had a hard time imagining him listening to it.

But perhaps the more curious question was how Han had managed to get hold of it. She stared at the album title and frowned. Forever Lost, Forever Onward. An album she didn’t know, with a name that hinted of… she caught her breath. He must have picked this up recently, within the past few years. She wondered why he’d never told her about it. Trembling, she inserted it into the dataplayer.

She leaned back against the bulkhead, closing her eyes as the beautifully haunting, melodious strains washed over her. She’d grown up listening to Melodic Order and countless other Alderaanian choirs. Hearing them again felt so familiar, so like home and family and love and security, so like the innocence of a forever-lost childhood that she couldn’t stop the tears from welling.

The first song ended, and Leia opened her eyes, blinking. Han stood at the entrance to the hold, a sheepish smile on his face. “Er… I forgot that was in there. I, uh, remembered you talking about that choir. Found the datacard on the black market during one of my supply runs. Was saving it to give you as a gift, but…” he shrugged. “Guess you beat me to it.” He frowned. “Look, I’m sorry if it’s the wrong thing right now, I didn’t mean—”

In a moment she was off the floor and across it, flinging her arms around him. “It’s perfect,” she whispered into his chest. “Thank you.” He held her close, and she felt him relax. Leaning down, he gave her a kiss on the forehead.

The next song had already started; this one was a little bit more buoyant and upbeat. “It’s pretty,” Han remarked.

“Come and listen.”

Han grimaced. “To a whole hour of this? That could get boring pretty qui—” he caught sight of Leia’s face and stopped short. “Then again, it is really pretty. I’ll bring some stuff in to work on while we listen.”

She grinned, triumphant.

A few minutes later, they were both settled on the floor—Han against the bulkhead with a magna-driver and a gravity compensator module, and Leia lying on her back near him, eyes closed once more as she tried to savor every lovely, heart-wrenching note.

The music rose and fell, soaring like thrantas over the River Wuitho. It was at times as merry as a field of starflowers and as solemn and mournful as the wind on the peaks. But woven through it all like the threads of a tapestry was a sense of longing so immense that Leia felt like her heart might burst from it. The lyrics intensified it; the voices sung of grief and remembrance, of yearning for what was no more, but also for what might someday be. Along with that yearning, hope was named, a hope Leia clung to like a rock in swift water.

The album was over halfway through when all at once her eyes snapped open and she sat up. “What did they just say?”

“Hmm?” Han mumbled from against the bulkhead as he strained the magna-driver against a particularly stubborn fastener.

Leia frowned as the song reached its chorus.

Symbol of hope, wreathed in white. Our death she saw but stalwart she fights. The remnant she gathers, our hearts she stirs, our doom she defies. The princess will bring us into light.

“No,” she whispered. Suddenly feeling very ill, she got up and stumbled to the corridor.

“Leia?” She vaguely heard Han’s concerned voice calling after her. Jamming her hand against the controls to the crew quarters, she lurched towards the ‘fresher and sank down on the floor beside it. Han caught up with her. “You all right, Princess?” He frowned. “You look really pale.” He sat down next to her.

Concentrating, she tried to slow her heartbeat. She had already begun to swallow down the initial wave of nausea, but she was still reeling. “Did you hear what they were singing?”

“Uh, something about hope and light?”

Leia stared at the wall across from her. “It was about me,” she whispered.

A cloud passed over Han’s eyes. “The hell do they think they are? You saved them! If they’ve been talking trash—”

“No, Han. It’s not that. It’s….” She felt lost for words; it was hard to speak at all right now, much less clearly. How could she explain this? He laid his hand, palm up, on the floor between them. She clasped it and took a deep breath. “They sung about me like I was one of the old Alderaanian gods.” She shook her head. “A ‘symbol of hope.’ Like I was going to make everything right.” She clenched her teeth as another wave of nausea swept over her.

Han gave her a funny look. “But you are a symbol of hope, Leia. To the whole galaxy. You agreed with the ol’ stooges in high command when they decided to make you one. It’s important, right?”

“Yes, Han, but this is different.”

He opened his mouth like he was about to argue some more, but then he seemed to think better of it and sat there, waiting. Wise move, whispered the wry part of her mind that was somehow still hovering nearby, outside of the body that trembled and felt sick. He squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes, concerned.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she sighed. “I can’t be their idol, Han. I can’t be their goddess of light now that Alderaan is gone. If they knew… if they knew what part I played in their loss, they wouldn’t say such things. They’d be praying that the god of justice destroys my soul.” She gritted her teeth; the last words had come out sharp and hard, like a gavel.

“Leia—”

“Han, I don’t care what you say. I don’t deserve this. I will never deserve this. I may not be directly to blame, but you know just as well as I do that if it weren’t for my actions, Alderaan would still be here. I chose to rebel.” She paused, voice breaking. “And what’s maybe even worse is that I’m still glad I rebelled. Maybe that makes me a monster, or maybe I just believe in something greater than all of us. But I’m implicated. I can take steps to bring justice and peace to the galaxy and what’s left of my people, but I will never be able to assuage my guilt or bring Alderaan back.” She laid her head on Han’s shoulder. “I can’t be their perfect symbol of hope, Han. And I’m not. A whole lot of people do blame me.”

Han was quiet for a moment. Then he leaned over and kissed her head. “You did the right thing, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You, and your parents, and, hell, all the Alderaanians who wanted somethin’ better than the Empire.”

Leia paused at his words. She exhaled slowly as the implications hit her.

It wasn’t just you.

He wrapped his arms around her. She let herself be drawn in closer, and they both rested there, quiet for awhile.

Her mind was still a mess, but eventually she felt the nausea dissipate and her heartbeat grow calmer. She was struck by a sudden desire to move on with things, to leave this awkward little episode behind. Gently she untangled herself and got to her feet; he followed suit.

“Well,” she said awkwardly, stretching her arms on her hips.

“I shoulda known that wouldn’t’ve gone too well,” Han said apologetically.

“No, Han, thank you. That music…” she shook her head. “I needed it. Maybe not the one song, but the rest… it means so much to me. It’s home.” She looked at him standing there, leaning against the wall, worry lines fading from his face, and she smiled. Suddenly she had a thought—a small opening, a chance to dig a little deeper—and she took it. “You ever have any music like that?”

“Music that reminds me of home?” He chuckled bitterly. “I haven’t had a home worth remembering, ‘cept the Falcon.”

Leia winced inwardly at her mistake. “Oh, I don’t mean like that. I mean the kind that goes down really deep. That means something important to you.”

Han looked thoughtful. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I guess I do.”

“Can I hear it?”

Moments later they were back in the main hold, and Han was digging haphazardly through the piles of datacards she’d nearly finished organizing. She considered that her efforts to bring a little order might well be hopeless, and she shook her head, amused.

Han found the datacard he was looking for. A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he examined it, and then he tossed it to Leia. “The M-68s,” Leia read aloud as she inserted it into the player. “That’s the name of a speeder, right?”

“The best in the galaxy. Or it was, awhile back.”

The music started; more raucous Corellian ballads, similar to what they’d listened to before. The first song seemed to be an ode to the band’s namesake.

Han leaned back on his arms, his eyes distant, as if he were picturing the speeder right in front of him in all its glory. “Powerful, variable thrusters… modifiable 289-hirep repulsorlift generator… sleek, beautiful lines….” he whistled. “Every street racer worth their stuff on Corellia wanted one. But by the time I finally got my hands on one—”

“Wait, you were a street racer?” She leaned forward, intrigued.

Han shrugged. “Yeah, when I had the time. I built a speeder of my own. Raced it a couple of times. Did pretty damn well, considering that I had to steal every minute with it right from under Lady Proxima’s oily nose.”

“Lady Proxima?”

“Head of the White Worms. Horrible being. I, uh, worked for her for awhile.”

Leia raised her eyebrows.

“All right, smuggled. Stole things. All sorts of illegal hijinks. Happy now? Not that I had much of a choice. I was just a kid trying to survive.”

Leia’s expression grew softer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Han made a dismissive sound in his throat. “Eh, don’t worry about it. I suppose being an Alderaanian princess didn’t give you much experience with underground cartels.” Leia opened her mouth in defense, but Han beat her to it. “And that’s good. I’m glad you didn’t have to deal with ‘em.”

“We had some underground illegal activity, but nothing like the cartels on other worlds,” Leia conceded. “And you’re right, I never had much experience dealing with them directly.” She paused, searching his face. His eyes were focused elsewhere. Was he ashamed? “Tell me about it,” she said gently. “Help me understand.”

Han considered for a moment, then sat up, fiddling with his holster. “The White Worms were the biggest gang in Coronet. Controlled the black market there. Any kid on the streets desperate enough eventually ended up with them.” He paused, his distaste palpable. “Easy to get in, not so easy to get out.”

Leia shuddered.

“It was better than being alone on the streets, though. We at least had a steady source of food.” He shrugged, then stopped speaking. Leia guessed he was hoping that would be the end of it. Despite her curiosity, she felt it was unwise to press him too hard just yet, so she went back to the subject beloved by the gritty, spirited anthem still belting from the datacard player.

“You said you were able to get your hands on an M-68?”

Han let out a wry chuckle. “Didn’t have it for long. It’s, uh… it’s actually what helped me escape. Nabbed it on the streets; crashed it the same day trying to shake off the White Worms. It got us almost all the way to the spaceport before that though.”

Leia listened intently. This was exactly what she had been hoping for; a more concrete glimpse into his past. Still, even this story seemed to hint at so much more that he was leaving unsaid. She wondered what kind of horrors he had gone through that had led up to that desperate decision to escape. She wondered what the White Worms would have done if they had caught him. She wondered what “us” meant.

“So is that why this band means so much to you?”

“Yeah, I guess. That, and street racing. And flying.”

Leia nodded. “Things you’ve always had a passion for.”

“Yeah. I dunno, I guess it feels like I was born to do those things. Being in the driver’s seat of a speeder or the pilot’s seat of a ship….” He shrugged again. “It’s me. ’S who I am.”

Leia snuggled against his side as the next song came on, this one a joyous exposition on the thrills of speeding. “I like who you are,” she said, kissing his cheek. Han looked down at her, affected; the guarded vulnerability in his eyes melting away into a softening joy. He leaned down and kissed her.

#Han x Leia #HanLeia #HanLeia fic #Han x Leia fic #SW fic #SW fanfic #Leia Organa #The Opening #experimenting with posting the whole chapter on tumblr like I used to #I've lost maybe 85% of my readers since I took a break to write the rest of the fic #which is really disheartening #but I hope more people see it this way #thanks to those of you who have commented and supported me!#you're the reason I haven't just thrown up my hands and stopped updating it #(I know there are a few of you who just aren't able to read it right now—I totally understand and I don't blame you!)#(but it's still easy to be discouraged)#anyway if you're reading my fic even just a small comment would mean the world to me!#thank you <3 #thoughts

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secretlyafrogman · 7 years ago

Text

Title: Eight Legged Freak

Characters: Crowley, Reader

Pairings: None

Genre: Comedy

Synopsis: When a spider invades your room, it’s up to Crowley to save you. But what if he gives you more than you asked for?

A/N: I’ve had this in my drafts for over a year and I had to write the ending today since I never finished it. My Crowley muse has kind of disappeared since I haven’t even watched Supernatural in almost 8 months, but I gave it my best shot since so many people wanted me to post it.

This will probably be my last Supernatural fic for quite some time. But I hope it’s a good way to go out.

I should also warn there are some gifs of spiders underneath the cut. One that might scare some people. I just wanna give a heads up.

Hope you enjoy!

Of all the places that you could be, being locked in the bathroom while being home by yourself wasn’t exactly an ideal one.

Of course, this isn’t where you wanted to be. You wanted to be out binge watching your favorite show on Netflix while curled up in your nice and warm bed eating ice cream and drinking a soda. In fact, that’s exactly what you had been doing five minutes ago. But then that giant spider had crawled up your wall and decided to hang right on your ceiling right above your bed. And judging from the looks of him, you knew he was out to get you the moment you laid eyes on him.

Just to be clear, you hated spiders. Hated them with every fiber of your being. You would never be willing to sell your soul to a demon, but if you did your one wish is that all spiders would burn in eternal hell fire. You knew how silly that sounded in your head, but dammit, you didn’t care. Spiders were the bane of your existence. And it seemed that every spider knew it because they would always pop in at the worst times the scare the hell out of you. Case and point: the eight legged monster that was now on your ceiling probably waiting for you to come back out so it could drop down on you and murder you in cold blood.

So now here you were, locked in the bathroom and sitting on the edge of your bathtub with your cell phone in your hands. Oh, how you didn’t want to make the call that you were about to make. How you didn’t want to admit to the one person who would never let you live it down that you needed his help more than ever right now. But seeing as he was out of the house and you refused to leave the bathroom until the spider situation was resolved, you truly didn’t have much of a choice.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, you scrolled through your contacts and called Crowley’s cell phone. Placing it to your ear, you heard it ring once... twice... and for a moment you weren’t sure if he was going to answer at all. But then you heard the other end connect.

“This is the King of Hell.”

“I know who you are.” You muttered through gritted teeth as you glanced at the crack of the door to make sure that the little fucker wasn’t trying to crawl under it.

“Y/N, darling. You sound stressed. Whatever could be the problem and why am I not causing it?”

“Now is not the time to mock me!” You nearly yelled as you let out a deep breath to try and calm your escalating nerves. “I need your help.”

Silence for a few moments and if you knew Crowley well enough, he was probably smirking to himself.

“So the big, bad huntress needs MY help. The King of Hell. I never thought this day would come.”

“Don’t get used to it.” Getting up from the tub, you made your way over to the bathroom door. You barely cracked it and glanced up at the ceiling, still seeing the spider in exactly the same spot as before. Shuddering, you closed the door back and locked it tightly. “Can you teleport to my bathroom really quickly?”

“Y/N, who knew that you yearned for me that much. If I knew you needed that kind of help I would have worn a much nicer suit. No matter. I’ll make sure to be nice and gentle. But I must warn you, love. Are you sure you can take my rod?”

“CROWLEY!” You screamed into the phone as a few seconds later he appeared by the bathroom door. “You’re such an ass!”

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Brushing off his suit, he looked around the bathroom in utter disgust.

“Really, love. So many bright colors. I should help you in redecorating.”

“I don’t complain about your interior decorating and you’re not going to complain about mine.” You grumbled as you walked past him and went to the door. You opened it wider this time and looked up, noticing the spider was now gone. Your voice jumped a few octaves as you opened your mouth in shock. “Fuck... It’s gone...”

Your eyes began to scan the room frantically as you tried to find where the spider had wandered off to. Little fucker. Probably knew that it’s fate was sealed as soon as Crowley appeared and ran away because of it. But it would be back. You knew it would. And that’s why until it was, you were going to make sure Crowley stayed to ensure that it was dead and gone. But how to make Crowley stay? Now that was the million dollar question...

“Y/N?”

Your thoughts were shattered as you jumped and turned to face Crowley who has a scowl on his face.

“You know that I don’t like being called away when I’m torturing Abaddon supporters.”

“That’s what you’ve been doing?” You asked in bewilderment. “Really, Crowley. Is that what gets you off?”

“I was actually hoping that since you needed my help in your bathroom that you would be the one doing that.” He mocked with a sick smirk on his face.

You rolled your eyes. “First off: Ew. Second: I really did need you. But there’s an issue.”

“And what might that be.”

“The little demon is gone.”

“Demon?” Crowley questioned as he raised an eyebrow. “There’s no demon here except I. I would be able to sense them if they were nearby.”

“No, not an actual demon.” You sighed, reaching up and running a hand through your hair. “It’s more like a...”

“Spit it out or I’m leaving.”

“There’s a damn giant ass spider in my room who’s trying to kill me and I need it dead...”

Crowley was silent for a long moment. You gave him a weak smile to try and judge how he was feeling, but all he did was narrow his eyes at you.

“You pulled me away from a torture session to take care of a spider?”

“... Yep.”

“You know that if you and I were not friends right now that I would snap you out of existence.”

“Crowley, I...”

Crowley raised a finger to silence you. Walking out into your bedroom, you watched him raise his hand and snap his fingers. A small puff of ash escaped from under your bed as the spider that was was now no more.

A large sigh of relief left your mouth as you walked out of the bathroom while raising your arms above your head to stretch, only now realizing just how tense the entire situation had left you. “Thanks, Crowley.”

“I wouldn’t thank me just yet.” He responded with annoyance and frustration dripping from the tone of his voice. “Did you really think I would just let you get away with calling me for something so childish and stupid?”

“Crowley, it wasn’t childish OR stupid! I would have been stuck in the bathroom had you not come. I...”

Your words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Before you could finish explaining yourself, Crowley had snapped his fingers and disappeared.

‘Great.’ You thought as you crawled back into bed. Who knew what Crowley had in store for you...

---

The sound of repetitive tapping woke you up later that night. Opening your eyes groggily, you flipped on your bedside table and began to scan the room for whatever it was making the sound. Then your eyes fell on it.

A terrarium. Or at least that’s what you assumed it to be. It was rather large with some leafs and branches thrown about inside as well as a hollow log that sat in the corner. You could vaguely see what appeared to be crickets jumping about inside, but nothing more.

Grumbling to yourself, you threw the covers off of you and wandered over to inspect it.

‘Is this Crowley’s idea of a joke? What the hell is he getting at getting me a terrarium full of crickets? How is this supposed to... wait... what the hell is that large thing in the corner...’

A scream. A blood curdling scream exited your mouth and you backed away from the terrarium faster than you ever thought you could move.

From downstairs, you could hear Crowley call up to you in a singsong voice that sounded too pleased for your panicked self.

“No worries, love. Annabelle isn’t venomous. I’ve had her for some time now. I just thought that maybe you would like to take care of her.”

“Bullshit!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. “Is this some kind of fucking joke!? You know I can’t stand spiders and you give me a tarantula!?”

“You can’t stand them? Oh, dear. It seems that I had forgotten about that. How could I be so insensitive?”

You could hear the sarcasm dripping from each word.

“Crowley, get this damn thing out of here! I don’t want it!”

“Well, if you can’t stand them maybe this will help you conquer your fear. I am your friend, after all. And what friend doesn’t help others with their problems?”

“I fucking hate you!”

“Love you too, darling.”

#Danny writes things #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Supernatural #Crowley #Trigger: arachnophobia #Reader Insert

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theredherb · 8 years ago

Text

Review: Resident Evil 7

[Originally posted on When Nerds Attack.]

“You’re about to see something wonderful.” Jack’s freshly charred skin is peeling off his body. But he’s still alive, and strong. He’s clutching your wrist, pulling it to his face. He wraps his mouth around the handgun you just plucked from the desiccated cop now lying dead on the floor. With a resounding pop, a chasm erupts from the top of his skull. His body falls limply to the ground. You survived, but you didn’t win. Jack will be back. He deliberately ate a bullet just to prove a point.

It’s been a long time since Resident Evil has scared me. For the better part of a decade, Capcom remodeled the franchise that coined “Survival Horror” into gun-centric action games meant to appeal to as wide an audience as possible. Familiar draws were included to bait fans that remember the fixed perspective, tank controlled days of yesteryear — whether it was tangential ties to the sinister Umbrella Corporation, hulking bio-weapons, or the franchise synonymous living dead. More often than not, though, these nostalgic additions felt like window dressing. While latter day sequels like Resident Evil 6 coated their levels in shadows and foreboding atmosphere, at their core, they were third-person shooters. True horror, the kind that the original trilogy is lauded for to this day, was left behind.

With Resident Evil 7, Capcom has finally returned to the franchise’s roots. It takes inspiration not only from its own past but from other stand-out horror experiences in order to rework and revitalize the genre they helped inform. The result is an expertly paced, incredibly tense hell-ride through a literal madhouse — and it’s actually pretty goddamn scary. Long-time fans have been yearning to hear this for years: Resident Evil 7 is pure survival horror.

SWEET HOME

Eschewing the tradition of military trained, boulder boxing heroes, you assume the role of prototypical everyman Ethan Winters, whose wife, Mia, disappeared three years before the story’s start. Beckoned by an ominous email from his estranged love, Ethan travels to an abandoned homestead located in a forgotten slice of southern Americana called Dulvey, Louisiana.

The Dulvey estate is a decaying wreck slowly being digested by the thick marsh that surrounds it. Inside, what’s truly unnerving isn’t how empty the house is, but how lived in it feels. Family portraits and hand-scribbled notes lie side by side with festering trash bags and dirtied pots filled with putrid meat. Somehow, people live here, and your surroundings do a fantastic job of letting you know that there’s something very, very wrong with them.

The new first-person perspective (rather than the third-person view in previous entries) introduces a newfound sense of dread since you’re vision is narrowed and you can’t see what’s behind you. It serves to make the experience eerily intimate and allows you to soak in every meticulously rendered inch of house. Passageways are splashed in pervasive darkness (some of the best shadow effects I’ve seen in a game) while the sound design pummels you with constant creaks, groans, and distant footsteps. Walking through the house is gloriously nerve-wracking.

I won’t spoil the first thirty minutes or so, but I will say the proceeding goes from Zero-to-Evil Dead fast enough to blow a gasket. It’s a joyfully malicious intro that perfectly sets the tone for the game to come — one that’ll have you laughing and recoiling in disgust in equal measure.

ALL IN THE FAMILY

Before long you’ll encounter the main villains of the show: the Baker clan. There’s Jack Baker, the stern head of the household; his wife Marguerite, whose disposition flashes between motherly and vitriolic in a heartbeat; and their son Lucas, the only one of his kin that could pass for normal until you see the bottomless pit of insanity swirling in his eyes. There’s a certain level of camp to the Bakers that the game is unafraid to play with. Only horror aficionados would get this reference, but they call to mind the maniacal Sawyer family specifically from Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 (just one of many cinemacabre influences found in the game).

It’s apparent there’s more affecting the Bakers than a simple case of the batshit crazies. They’re inhumanly strong, can regenerate severed body parts, and worship the notion of ‘family’ with a murderous zeal. Figuring out what’s wrong with them, and how it pertains to your missing wife, reintroduces a story component absent from the series since the very first game: an engrossing mystery.

Each Baker is tethered to specific areas of the plantation — castellans of their hillbilly castle. But they serve a more dynamic role than just the inevitable boss fight earmarking a section. Jack, for instance, will patrol parts of the house, and if he spots you, will relentlessly chase you down until you he buries a shovel into your soft dome. There’s a sick thrill to tangling with Jack. He’s a walking bullet-sponge and difficult to shake-off until you learn to out maneuver him by running serpentine patterns all around the house.

Marguerite will also guard her part of the residence with a lantern in hand in case an intruder is hiding in the shadows, and when she finds you… well, I hope bugs don’t freak you out. Unlike the horror games these segments are derived from (namely Outlast and Amnesia), RE7 has little interest in being a hide and seek simulator, and uses these encounters sparingly. That restraint goes a long way, making an appearance from “Daddy” feel more surprising and random, keeping players constantly off-kilter as they trek through the house.

BACK TO BASICS

Given the change of perspective and overhauled, backwoods-y tone, you might wonder why Capcom bothered to slap a number on this seeming reboot. Despite its modern influences, the gameplay is most reminiscent of the original Resident Evil. Just like the granddaddy of survival horror, there’s a huge emphasis on exploring your environment, managing inventory, and picking which battles to fight or take flight from.

You’ll navigate the Baker house in search of keys that unlock new parts of the homestead and its surrounding areas. Arcane puzzles will block your progress, but they can typically be solved using simple order-of-operation: find Item A, combine it with Item B, slot Item C into hole. Not exactly Witness level headscratchers by any means, but they serve to break up the tension. And they’re just so quintessentially Resident Evil— a kooky house filled with inexplicably placed puzzles.

Apropos to the genre, the amount of items you can hold at once is limited. Thusly, item boxes — the bottomless chests that are magically linked to each other — return along with the save rooms that harbor them. Whereas completing some puzzles will condemn you to do battle with some unholy aberration, save rooms are the one true respite that allow you to breathe and collect yourself. (Special shout out goes to the calming, ambient melody that plays whenever you reach one of these bastions — that shit is lit).

There’s also an extra meta to how you organize and use items you find. You can find healing herbs and use them raw (I guess… I guess Ethan chews them?) but they become much more potent if you combine them with a Chem Fluid. If you hang on to the very same Chem Fluid until you found some loose gunpowder, on the other hand, you can craft your very own handgun bullets instead of having to forage for them. Combining items also frees up inventory slots which in turn can be filled up with more ammo, health, or key items. It all cleverly underlines the “Survival” in “Survival Horror,” rewarding savvy mixologists with a longer lease on life.

You’ll attain weapons to beat back the creatures of the night, and the UI lets you organize them within your inventory so that they’re mapped to the D-Pad. It’s a useful appropriation of one of Resident Evil 5’s better ideas especially given the fact that digging into your inventory doesn’t pause the action (you’ve been warned).

FIGHT NIGHT

It wouldn’t be a Resident Evil game without monsters. Enter the Molded — humanoid tarman formed from a viscous black goo. They’re mostly slow but they have wolverine claws, their faces are roughly eighty-percent teeth, and they’re dangerous in numbers. Helpfully, they haven’t mastered the art of opening doors, so they’re easy to trap, and you can also block incoming attacks to soak up the brunt of their damage. Eventually, though, you’ll have to go on the offensive.

You’re equipped with a pocket knife early on, but that’s only a rung more effective than harsh language– it’s the handgun and shotgun you’ll be relying on. It’s important to note that, despite the viewpoint, this isn’t a first-person shooter. Aiming down the sights slows your movement to a crawl and can actually put you in harm’s way which means placement is as paramount as precision — a concept not altogether foreign if you played the original games. There’s a value play to using weapons, too: if you mow down every single critter that jumps at you in the dark, you’ll find your clip empty the next time you’re truly up shit’s creek.

Ammo scarcity forces you to plan and act accordingly. Do you feed your last few bullets into a Molded so you can search an area in peace? Or can you evade long enough to save those shots? There’s few things more satisfying than the pus geyser that erupts whenever you relocate a Molded’s head, but I was more thankful to have those shots whenever Jack would burst through a wall like a redneck Kool-Aid Man. It’s the kind of on-the-fly strategizing that has been sorely missing from Resident Evil.

True to genre form, you’ll be tasked to engage in boss fights. Unfortunately, not every battle is a memorable showdown of wits and brawn. I’ll keep it vague, but there’s one sore thumb in the bunch, early on, that forces you to rely on the game’s clunky melee mechanics. Thankfully, the bar raises as you contend with the Bakers. Again, I’m being purposely vague, but one cool bit has you hopping between levels of a decrepit greenhouse as you hunt down a baddie, expertly making use of space, and another is such a wickedly good callback to Resident Evil 4, it’d bring a tear to Leon Kennedy’s dreamy eye.

FOUND FOOTAGE

When you’re not juggling items or tip-toeing in the dark, the game has you watching VHS tapes. Playing tapes isn’t as passive as that, however, since you’ll be tasked to play as the character within the video. It’s a really ingenious narrative tool that not only gives you insight to what the hell happened before Ethan arrived, but also spotlights crucial clues in your current environment. One tape stands out in particular — “Happy Birthday.” In it, you play as an ill-fated cameraman that has to solve an intricate puzzle to escape from a sealed room. The Saw inspired conundrum is by far one of most impressively realized pieces of design the game owns — it had my jaw to the floor by its conclusion.

AMERICAN HORROR STORY

Biological terrorism, global domination plots, superhuman villains… Resident Evil’s stories have arguably degraded into over-the-top comic book fare as the years have gone on. RE7 wisely reigns in its scope to tell the most grounded story in the series since the original. It follows the beats of a low-budget horror movie, and it’s a great direction. Like a lot of micro-budgeted horror movies, this is a plot driven vehicle.

Subsequently, character work is on the thin side, especially in regards to Ethan. His few spoken lines keep him from being a silent protagonist but it’s obvious he’s meant to be a blank slate for players to project onto — sort of in the vein of Half-Life’s Gordon Freeman or mute soldiers from early Call of Duty games. Mia, his wife, fares a little better — and she should; she has five times the amount of lines as Ethan — but at no point would you even think her and Ethan are married if it wasn’t explicitly stated. But it’s a double-edged sword: much of the momentum of the plot is owed to the fact that it doesn’t linger on personal details.

Whereas the first two-thirds of the game are brilliantly crafted and paced, RE7 loses a lot of steam on its march to the endgame. Again, in an attempt to not spoil any surprises, I won’t name the location you reach in the third-act. I will say that it like feels by-the-numbers horror fare — a disappointing contrast to everything the game so confidently builds beforehand. Disappointing, but nowhere enough to derail the experience.

It’s right around here that the game decides to increase the amount of Molded you fight by tenfold, totally inoculating players of any fear the bizarre tarmen might’ve wrought. We’re talking a small island nation’s worth of Molded. While there’s three distinct types of Molded to contend with — including a spider-y leaper who I hate so much — more enemy variety would have spiced up this last stretch considerably. If you can get through this gauntlet of pus-bloods, you’re treated to a Big Reveal, and get to find out what the hell’s really going on in Dulvey. As a fan, I was pleasantly surprised that they found a way to tie these seemingly discrete events back into the greater whole of what Resident Evil is about (while also leaving us with plenty of questions).

HAIL TO THE KING

After one of my very first sessions with the game, I took a break (game manuals used to suggest you do this often when game manuals were still a thing). Naturally, it was night and, of course, I was alone. I absorb a ridiculous amount of horror media, games and otherwise. They don’t get to me very often. Yet, my skin was crawling. I started jumping at small noises. I was watching shadows. I was still bugged out from my time inside the Baker house. The last time a horror game lingered with me like that was when I first played Resident Evil 2 on the Nintendo 64– I was 10.

Resident Evil 7 is phenomenal course correction for the franchise. It’s unashamed of celebrating established cliches but, like any great horror movie, knows how to subvert them. Capcom’s crafted a legitimately harrowing ride that also manages to never sacrifice its playability. While other games of its ilk will try to depower the player as much as possible to instill a sense of vulnerability, Resident Evil 7 smartly balances its challenge with fun gameplay mechanics. I wanted to get right back into it even as the credits rolled (and I did… four times since).

The game feels fresh, yet it builds on time-tested conventions of the genre. Capcom has proven they understand why we loved the original games, and have found a means to modernize that formula. I can’t see the series going back to the over-the-shoulder, co-op shoot-fests. This is the path to stay on. Not just because Resident Evil 7 is one of the best games in the series, but because it’s one of the best survival horror games ever made.

[If you purchase the PS4 edition of the game, you can enjoy/endure the entirety of Resident Evil 7 in PlayStation VR. I’ve yet to make the $400 plunge into Sony’s virtual space, but I did get to play the Beginning Hour demo in VR at Capcom’s booth during last December’s PSX. Though my time with the VR version of the game was brief, I was thoroughly impressed. Anecdotally, I’ve heard it’s the scariest and most immersive way to experience RE7. Apologies for not having more extensive impressions!]

#resident evil #resident evil 7 #re7 #capcom #review #gaming #survival horror #horror

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