seventeen members as love tropes: xu minghao
enemies to lovers
'you're not mine but wouldn't you want to be?'
minghao tries is hardest to stay calm but all these higher ups are making it really hard. he turns to look at you and the sight of your hunched back and bitten raw lips makes him boil. are you two friends? no, far from it. minghao is very aware of the whole 'enemies' agenda that is happening between you both, but does he want to see you like this? nervous, agitated, scared? no. fucking hell, no. he wants to see you burning with passion, wants to see that fire in your eyes whenever you two argue - minghao feels like he's been punched in the chest when he realizes that he's ready to kill just for you to not look this scared.
'can we wrap this up?' he voices out loud, not bothering to hide his annoyance. 'i don't see any point in this.'
'it'd be wise for you to be more polite and remember who you are talking to, xu minghao.'
he sees how you cringe at this, how your hands ball up into fists at the way that man spoke to him. understanding that you are angered on his behalf warms minghao up; it feels incredibly nice to know that you care. he keeps his mouth shut, lets managers drag on about the issue and takes two step in your direction, stopping when your shoulders brush. you tense up at first, sending him a questioning glance but he only stays put to which you reply with a rejected sigh. they lecture him and then start lecturing you and minghao can't just stand still when you're obviously fuming. they are being rude to you and the words are out of his mouth before he can think them through: 'don't talk to her like that.' your sharp intake of breath kind of wakes him up and he stares ahead at all the managers, who all look shell shocked.
'you have no right to talk to her like that.' minghao pushes in a clipped tone. 'she did her best and so did i, our timing got fucked up but it's not our fault. don't speak to her in that tone.'
shortly after you get pulled away by other people and minghao is in for another 30 minutes of lecturing. by the time he finally gets out of that stuffy room, he feels like he wasted ten years of his life on nothing. he sighs, stretches and is about to turn when soft steps stop him. he knows it's you even before you call out his name.
'why did you do that?' you ask, squinting at him. 'why the sudden hero act?'
'it wasn't an act,' he says, rolling his eyes. god, he's so tired. 'but you're welcome.'
'i haven't asked for it,' you spit out, obviously angered. 'i don't need your pity.'
minghao turns around, raising his eyebrow. 'i have never pitied you,' he says strongly, feeling himself getting worked up again as some stupid side effect on you being close. 'can't you just say 'thank you' and move on?'
'i don't need your help!' you hiss. 'i haven't asked for it!'
and - only you can make minghao want to both bang his head on the wall from frustration and laugh like a maniac. he sometimes wants to step closer, pull you into his arms and... he doesn't know. part of him wants to strangle you for being so damn difficult all the fucking time, but another part wants to smash your mouths together so you can finally shut up. minghao is aware of how unhealthy it is just as he is aware of how often your gaze falls on his lips or his biceps. it's good to know he's not the only one who's gone mad. they say it's a fine line between hatred and love and for minghao right now this line is so thin that he barely see it anymore. is it the same for you? he wants to ask, but instead he says: 'why you didn't stop me then? you always could just interrupt me over there but you didn't say a thing. if you don't need my help why i was the one who you turned to when authorities came? you didn't say anything but you searched for me with your eyes, don't even try to deny it.'
five steps. that's the distance that separates you two and minghao thinks it's fitting. he can take two and then you can take two and then maybe you'll play game of chicken on that last step. but you surprise him with taking all those five steps yourself, storming onto him with fire in your eyes that he loves so much. 'you're not the one to talk, minghao. you think i don't know that it was you who asked everyone to wait up for me? who brought medicine to my team when i fell sick?' you try to push him on his chest but minghao easily catches you wrist in his, not letting you move. 'let me go.'
'that's not what you want.' he says in a calm tone that doesn't show all the hurricane which's happening inside of him.
reality of how close you two are standing dawns on you. jerkily, you try to step back but his hold on you is too strong. 'let me go,' you whisper, voice wavering. 'hao, let me go.'
hao. 'that's not what you want,' minghao whispers and lets his other hand wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to his chest. 'tell me what you really want, angel.' he sees how you shudder at the petname and smiles, leaning in. he lets go of your wrist, locking his arms around you instead. 'you can go if you want.' he leans in, brushing your noses together. 'or you can stay. and i can never, ever let you go. which i think is what you actually want.'
it's brave. it's bold, it's brazen and - it works. your body sags in his arms and you hide your face in his neck, hugging him back. 'prick,' you mutter into his neck, raising goosebumps where your lips touch his skin. 'self absorbed asshole.'
'yeah,' minghao easily agrees, hugging you tighter. 'prick, self absorbed asshole that i will never, ever let you go.'
a/n: this one is a bit vague but i couldn't figure out how to write this for the live of me. i hope this was okay? let me know! - nini
my seventeen works are here
my formula 1 works are here
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allow me to be super delulu for a second
if either Eden or Ace are the actual killer, that would mean one of them would be saying their secret quotes in the next coming episodes. but...do we really feel like the situation warrants them saying what their quotes are?
Ace's is: "I don't know what to do with myself anymore."
Eden's is: "You can't go back, no matter how hard you try."
Ace's feels a little strange to say in the trial. we're very close to unearthing the real culprit, and if Ace really is the killer, when would he say that? immediately upon being found out? the quote itself has their air of melancholy and defeatism, and even at his lowest, we know Ace isn't someone to concede or go down without a fight. and if he knows he's about to die, what's the point in saying "I don't know what to do with myself anymore" when he's not even going go be alive in the next few moments? He WON'T be doing anything with himself anymore, he'll be dead.
Eden's, while not as strange of a thing to say as Ace, is also kind of peculiar. when would she say it? while she's admitting to the murder? if Eden did it, sure, it's believable that she'd feel some regret, but the setup to her being the killer feels very odd now that we've gone through this big emotional moment between her and Teruko. honestly, after all that, if Eden really is the killer, i'd be more inclined to believe she WOULDN'T regret killing Arei. it'd seem like her crying and pleading was all just emotional manipulation. it also seems strange to me that Eden would have already had it in mind to kill Arei when she and Teruko found Ace, and took the opportunity to steal the tape to carry it out. i could definitely be wrong, and please correct me if i am, but i think the attempted murder was the same day as what happened with Eden and Arturo? honestly, even if it wasn't, it just feels weird to me that Eden would find some way to disguise her handwriting, set up a murder method even more elaborate than Nico's original version, and then do the whole trial pleading and sobbing for people to believe she didn't kill her and actually have regretted her actions. that shit is so premeditated that everything Eden has done thus far feels like immense emotional manipulation. while that could still be possible...it's not really that satisfying, i'd say. who knows, maybe i'm in severe denial, but i just think this characterization of Eden would be really weird. it would feel less like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked turned out to be awful", and more like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked has made a 180° in their personality without any foreshadowing of having a darker side to them".
and i'm just still really hung up on Hu. her secret quote, "I want to pay for what I've done. But even then, I still want to live." makes total sense in the context of this trial, especially after her secret reveal. and while it's pretty unlikely she took the tape from the gym, there's no guarantee that the person who took the tape at the time HAS to be the murderer. i'm just still hung up on the fact that it feels like there needs to be one last, big twist before the true killer is revealed. a moment where Teruko comes to her realization and the culprit is selected before she makes any actual accusation against them. we already knew Eden and Ace would be the ones Teruko was going to interrogate in the selection because of her explanation. just given how drdt has been written thus far, i feel like they wouldn't hand the potential answer to us like that so easily. like we wouldn't get to the point of selecting the culprit with the story already telling us it can only be one of two suspects.
it's entirely possible that i'm just coping and am refusing to accept that one of my favorite characters is actually the culprit. or that drdt could have a trial that isn't greatly written. it's totally fine if i'm wrong and Eden or Ace really is the killer, i definitely won't enjoy it much but it's not my story, nor would it completely make me drop drdt.
i honestly just needed to rant LMAO. this episode left me with a LOT of feelings.
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Special [2/2]
Note: Second part from this request here! Sorry it took so long, I've been burnt out and just struggling to get things out lately. I'll have an update post later today, I think.
Sanji really does feel awful when he realizes what’s going on with you, why you walked away and said you wouldn’t bother anymore. He hates how he’s made you feel, without even realizing it, but he never expected you would actually like him back. He’d resigned himself to the fact that, in his mind, you didn’t have any feelings for him nor would you ever. He’s used to it but for some reason it hit harder when he thought it was you that would reject him.
So he never said anything. He treated you normally, as normally as he could when he thought you were so perfect, but it seems like he's made a mistake. He’s made you think there’s something wrong with the way you look, when it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Nami has heard it so much from him she’s started rolling her eyes while Sanji nearly cries to her about how much he adores you.
No, how much he loves you. He’s not told anyone else, only Nami, making her concern3d the moment she notices you avoiding and ignoring him. Once she gets Sanji to tell her what happened, she’s so close to smacking him upside the head for being so stupid.
“Of course she’s upset, you’re an idiot!”
Nami spends the better part of her afternoon berating Sanji, who cant even argue with her and just nods in agreement to everything she says. She stops him before he can even ask for ideas on what to do so he can make it up to you.
“No, you’re doing that yourself this time.”
It takes him most of the day to decide what he could do, what he could say, so it surprises you when he finally shows up after dinner that evening. He’s not looking you in the eyes, but he has your favorite flowers with him, it makes your heart ache a bit, believing he’s done this to every girl he’s ever upset in the past so you don’t move to take the flowers. You’re trying to stop your feelings, he's making it so hard though.
“Sanji—”
“[Y/N], I’m so sorry I made you feel like you aren’t special to me. I…it’s no excuse, but I didn’t think you’d ever have feelings for me like I do for you so I was trying to distract myself from you,” it starts to make sense, but you still don’t move, you’re not entirely sure you can trust him, “If you never forgive me I deserve it, but…can you give me a second chance? No, that’s not right…let me have the chance to make it up to you, and prove you’re so much more than to me than you think you are.”
You’re both quiet for a few moments, Sanji believes you’re completely done with him while you think it through.
A conflict between crewmates over something is always a possibility, but when it’s due to romantic feelings it feels weirdly worse to you. It feels like you’re letting it take over everything, but you’ve had these feelings for so long that you aren’t sure they’ll ever go away, even if you are trying to stop it. You still want to be his friend if nothing else, though it almost seems like he may want something more.
That’s something to discuss later.
Sanji starts to feel like things will get better when you reach out and take the flowers, not looking at him even when he looks up at you.
“…you can make my favorite dessert to start…and explain yourself better.”
The grin on his face makes you smile just a little bit in return, as Sanji nods and takes your hand to bring you to the kitchen.
“I’ll start right away while you put those in water! I’ll make you whatever drink you want too!”
“That sounds nice, Sanji…”
Before you get too much farther, Sanji stops and pulls you into a hug that you return.
“I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t special to me…you mean more to me than anyone else in the world.” You’re going to choose to believe him, especially when Sanji goes the extra mile to make sure you know how much he loves you.
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I feel like when Peppino realizes that constantly yelling at Peppi-no for taking his place isn't the best solution for getting him to confess, it's already gonna be too late.
Like what if eventually Peppi-no gets to a point where the constant guilt of what he did just... breaks him. He just gives up. He finally goes out and announces what he did, and when one or more of Peppino’s friends inevitably come to take revenge, he does... nothing. He doesn't try to fight it, he doesn't try to run away, he just sits there, accepting his fate...
And Peppino sees this all happening. He got what he wanted. Peppi-no finally told the truth. Everyone finally knew what he did. Peppi-no was finally facing the consequences of his actions... But he didn't feel any better. In fact, he felt worse. Staring at Peppi-no's broken face as he just sat there, waiting to die... He had been trying so hard to avoid this very thing, to avoid these consequences so that he wouldn’t get hurt, but now, Peppino had pushed him so far that he didn't even care anymore...
What has he done...?
That would certainly be an interesting turn of events! How far is Peppino willing to go to get justice? As I stated before, breaking Peppi-no is not his intention. (He's a vengeful ghost, but he still has some humanity in him.) However, if things continue as they are, he’s going to resort to increasingly more and more drastic measures.
Peppino is going to insist that the truth must come out, while Peppi-no will do everything he can to prevent it. And this will continue until one of them finally snaps—or the truth slips out! Either way, the truth will eventually come to light.
I can't really imagine Peppi-no just giving up. He's very stubborn and will do anything to keep the "Peppino train" going. He's willing to go to great lengths to keep his secret. Let's just say that if a character Peppi-no deems unimportant and easily disposable were to find out the truth, he would silence them for good. He's genuinely sorry for what he did, but he's also trying to save his own skin. (Otherwise, he would have already come forward with the truth by now.)
Also, side note: Fake Peppino—and by extension, Peppi-no—is very hard to kill. So unless they bring out a flamethrower, he would just be waiting for a beatdown.
(That's a reasonable punishment, if you ask me!)
At the end of the day Peppino just wants justice.
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Pretending
Sometimes pretending to be a person is easy. Sometimes it isn’t. On the bad days, numbers start crawling on the page, straight lines curl, and I’ve got to remind myself to keep my face on. I want to stretch my other limbs, but the world down here is so thin, and so easy to tear. I have to be careful not to think too hard about anything, or it might start seeping through. You have no idea how much power you have, someone told me once, being able to create with a thought. And the children of my mind look too much like madness to humans.
Cases of madness worldwide are 1.3% higher on days like that.
But I don’t want to drive them mad. I’m here to protect them, not devour them. Not this time. So I have to pretend. Though with some of them practically throwing themselves at me, that isn’t always easy.
Writers are the worst. I let my ‘pretending to be a person is hard’ line slip into the coffee I’m nursing while my head pounds with the effort of keeping it all together, and her only response is, “Yeah, I know.”
“‘A writer is a world pretending to be a person’,” she quotes at me, and then, “That’s a deliberate misquote of something Victor Hugo said: ‘A writer is a world trapped in a person’. But I like my version better. If my soul wasn’t in a human-shaped body, sometimes I think I’d turn into a galaxy or something. Or maybe more than that. A multiverse.”
Humans are famously good at detecting things that don’t quite look human. I’m not doing a particularly good job of staying out of the uncanny valley today, but she doesn’t seem to have noticed. Or, worse, she’s noticed and likes it. Writers are like that sometimes. But I’ve been deliberately staying out of her mind. I can tell it’s twisty and complex, and I’m afraid the slightest touch from me would tip her over into madness. Or, who knows, maybe she’s right, and it would trigger her transformation into some kind of eldritch goddess that would put even me to shame. I don’t want to think about what that would do to the paper-thin world down here.
I’ve been so focused on my coffee, I’ve accidentally created another one. She hasn’t noticed.
“I do wonder what being a person is actually like, though,” she goes on. “You know, actually fitting in with all the weird rules humans have. Actually feeling at home here. And most of them only get to live one life, not all the fragments of all the lives we get to. Imagine that. They’ll never know what it’s like, being able to create with a thought.”
That last part hits too close to home, and I can’t resist taking just one quick peek into her mind.
“Oh, hello,” she says, and looks me in the eye.
I withdraw. No way she should have been able to feel that. And what I saw there – she’s practically a multiverse already, all jammed up there somehow into that tiny human brain.
“I always wondered if telepathy’s real,” she’s saying, “and now you’ve gone and proven it. Do that again, so I can see how you did it.”
No way, I’m not risking that – but she fumbles around and somehow does it anyway.
“There you are!” she says. I twitch back into my defences – why does this have to be happening on a day like this, when I’m barely holding it together anyway? The writing on the menu twists and curls, and customers start walking in circles. This time she notices.
“Ooh, eldritch abomination, is it?” she says. “Here, let me try.”
She squints, and now she’s holding another coffee, too. She takes a sip. “Mmm, just like in my dreams.”
Then she’s looking at me. Not just at my rapidly-slipping human disguise, but really looking at me, all the parts that no human should ever be able to see. But I don’t think she’s human anymore – I think she’s been right at that boundary for a while.
“You know, you really should pay more attention to that,” she says. “I find pretending is much easier if I do something like this—” and she does something, and my own human form snaps back into clarity. “There you go. Get those few things right and most people won’t even notice.”
Meanwhile, her own form is becoming more solid. That’s the only way I can describe it. Soon she’ll be so solid that her slightest movement will tear right through reality like tissue paper.
“Be careful,” I say, “you’re new to this, and this world is fragile—”
But it’s too late. She twitches in just the wrong way, and something tears.
Now everything is inverting. Everything that was packed up tightly inside her brain is becoming outside. The whole world is reforming around us, into one she considers home. I’m unaffected, but the humans are being completely rewritten.
“Hmm,” she muses, observing all the worlds at once. “Looks like I was right about myself.”
And she sees my dismayed expression. Avoiding something like this is exactly why I was being so careful down here. So much for that.
“Don’t worry,” she says, and gives me a reassuring pat somewhere in the fourth dimension. “There’s more than enough room in me for everyone.”
I really like that quote she uses, and use it myself. This story came from thinking - what if it was literally true, and not just a metaphor?
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