writers-potion · 7 months ago
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What should you do if you feel that two of the characters are too similar and want to distinguish their personalities?
Characterization: Unforgettable Characters
I would say that's the whole point of characterization! Often we write about characters with similar ages, ethnicities, place of residence, etc.
It's all about: "How memorable is this particular character?"
Unusual Physical Features
Give your characters one distinguishable physical feature that can be referenced throughout.
Maybe one of them come from a family of redheads. It can be as simple as making one of them wear glasses.
The way we look, and the reactions we get from other people about our looks, form a large part of our own self-perception. This is especially true if your characters are teens, or have a job where they need to be particular about how they appear.
Quirky Body Language/Habits
Come up with some memorable, uncommon gestures that comes naturally to your characters. It can be something they do unconsciously.
What makes them make those gestures consistently?
A Distinct Character Voice
Dialogue is the window to the minds of your characters.
Give them a stock phrase that they use often, or a speech pattern
Give one of them a stutter, a lisp, a particular way of pronouncing some words, etc.
Nicknames (or teling names)
Nicknames are easy if your characters are part of the same group of friends or one of them has a reputation (whether god or bad)
You can also choose to give them telling names that hint at an immediately distinguishable characteristic, although this may feel shallow depending on the overall tone of your story.
What Do They Represent?
Characters often reflect types of people we have met in real life. Or, they personify certain values/perceptions we hold about the world in general.
If a character is the embodiment of "the silent genius", the way he carries himself would be totally different from "the forever insecure", although the two of them may simply appear quiet to someone who doesn't know them.
Think about what made you write those characters in the first place. Which archetype/person type did you want them to represent?
Combine The Characters
Sometimes, one of the two indistinguishable characters may not be serving a role that is big enough.
If there's not much story material to be divided between two characters, combine them into one, see what changes, and move on.
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violetdisasterzone · 1 year ago
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friendly psa for those who haven't read any of the Chinese version of svsss and/or don't know anything about Chinese: the characters for "luo" in Qiu Jianluo's name and Luo Binghe's name are not the same! Here's a brief explanation of each:
Qiū Jiǎnluó is 秋剪罗:
秋/qiū means 'autumn' (same character as in 沈清秋/Shěn Qīngqiū)
剪/jiǎn is a 形声字, a phono-semantic (or sound-meaning) compound, which means one part indicates the sound and the other part gives its meaning. here, 前/qián on top relates to the pronunciation, and 刀/dāo, 'knife,' on the bottom gives its meaning, which is 'to cut.' it can be found most commonly in compounds like 剪刀 for 'scissors'
罗/luó is a super old character that originally related to catching birds in a net, its meaning has broadened quite a bit and is also present in a lot of 成语/idioms. note that this is pronounced with a rising tone!
Luò Bīnghé is 洛冰河:
洛/luò is part of the name of several irl rivers in China, and is the name of the river in svsss where Binghe was found as a baby. note that this is pronounced with a falling tone!
冰河/bīnghé is a compound word meaning glacier, with 冰 for ice and 河 for river
罗 vs 洛: as you can see, these characters have unique appearances and meanings. In the English translations, it's easy to think they're the same word since we don't have tones, but in Chinese, tone is a major distinguishing factor, so these are not pronounced the same. these characters are both common and would not be confused with each other.
I'm not trying to tell anyone what headcanons they can or can't have, but I do think it's important to remember that for those of us reading media like this in translation, and especially for those of us who are not Chinese, we aren't the target audience, and that means we're going to miss out on some stuff sometimes.
anyway this was more info than anyone wanted or needed, but if you didn't know this before I hope you learned something! and as always, disclaimer: I am not by any means an expert in Chinese names, nor am I fluent in the language! if you are either of these and I have said something incorrect, please feel free to correct me
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asocialangel · 1 year ago
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Hello !! I saw that your requests were open so I wanted to know how you think the bllk would react if their s/o asked for a break or a break up with them ?? Actually i read your work on it and it was very well written (hurts my heart ಠ⁠‿⁠ಠ) so I was curious about that.
Anyway have a good day~~
“let’s break up” - how the bllk boys would react
Hello lovely ! Are you doing great ? Was my response quick enough ? Anyways, i wrote short fics instead of headcanons, i feel like they are more suited. But if you wish, I can write them in hc forms ! Specific characters can also be requested for a part two~  enjoy and don’t cry too much~~
Blue Lock angst: breaking up with Isagi Yoichi and Itoshi Rin
Isagi - swear words, toxic behaviors from both ends, no one is right\an example to follow tbh TT - 1,2k
It had been a while. That Isagi was ignoring you. Your hugs, your texts, the cooked meals you always put aside for him. You lifted your head and looked in front of you. It was so dark now it hurt your eyes. The afternoon had gone by in a blink of an eye. You had sat on the couch and next thing you know you’re on the floor, back against the living room rug, still crying. Everytime you dried up your tears, a few minutes of thinking were enough for them to start rolling down your cheeks again. Purposeful or not, did it even matter ? And you had rehashed thoughts and fake conversations so much by now, that you started convincing yourself he avoided you deliberately, to have fun and make you cry. 
The dim sky barely lit up the room, it was hard for you to distinguish the furniture around you. Everything was a grayish blue. Inside and outside. You and your surroundings. When you heard keys in the lock, you took a deep breath, eyes closed. The door creaked open. 
“Hey ba-” The voice that started talking with so much enthusiasm abruptly stopped. “Why’s it so dark ?” Without even warning, Isagi turned the switch on. Ow. It hurts your eyes so much. Yet you continue blankly staring at the coffee table. “Practice was so tough today. Hum, Y\N where are you ?”. You could feel him searching left and right for you. So used to it huh, you greeting him the second he arrives, a warm smile on your face, the table set behind you. There was a last time for everything, but none of you knew that yesterday was the one. “Oh well.” Quickly giving up, you heard his duffle bag hit the floor. He left everything as it was, heading for a shower. 
“I’m here.” Your expression still being as empty, not even looking in his direction, you got up. Your hand helping you lift your weight, you finally revealed yourself to him. From your peripheral vision, you could see his smile getting wider as he saw you. Not that you cared. You didn’t even bother to look at him when you pronounced that dreadful sentence: “We need to talk”.
“Do we ?” Isagi’s smile instantly dropped. But it made you furious. Instead of an apprehensive, concerned expression, he seemed annoyed. That bitch is gonna complain again right ? That’s probably what he was thinking. Couldn't he at least fake being scared for your relationship ? “Well i must. I’ll tell you something. Although I'm surprised you have nothing to tell me. Nothing’s been bothering you ? Everything alright, a-ok ? La vie en rose ?” You still didn't look at him, though you were walking in his direction, your eyes were empty. “What, does something seem wrong to you ? To me nothing h-” Ugh ! He was so ! Infuriating ! Why was he acting all cool, all unbothered, disdainful ? “Something ?! Something ?! Everything !”
You finally looked at him. Right in the eyes. You hadn't realized that anger had taken over your sadness. “How can you dare to pretend things are going right ? Have some respect, for me, and yourself !” “Okay okay, what will you whine about today ?” Isagi answered right away. “My fangirls ? How you wanna meet my friends ? The fact you’re convinced my parents dislike you ? Everything we’ve been through again and again.” He had an arrogant tone, almost laughing at you. “You always have something to bring up. I’m getting tired of your childish complaints”. 
Right where it hits the most. You scoffed. “Okay. Okay then. You’ll be so glad to hear what I've got to say”. You too started putting on a derisive expression. “At first I was sad. But now I'm thinking, how could you let yourself be treated this way, love ?” You were walking around the living room, in a theatrical way, gesturing to yourself and raising your eyebrows faking concern. “Isagi. You looked at him. I’m not gonna let you neglect me again, let alone pretend I'm the one who’s wrong. You and I… We’re over”. You looked at him almost satisfied. You-from-4-hours-ago would've never believed that, out of all the feelings you could have felt when asking to break up, amusement would have been the one.
And what you saw was even more delightful. Isagi’s expression turned from scoffy to utterly shocked. He did not see that coming. After all, to him, you had become someone who would just complain… Not actually take action. Little did he know everything he took for granted was going to disappear. As quickly as you would. Suddenly his whole world fell upon his feet.
You smiled, walking closer and closer to him. His sad expression.. It was almost fulfilling now. So taken aback, Isagi couldn't move, he only looked you in the eyes, full of despair. His eyebrows were wavering, his eyes were starting to get glossy from tears welling up, he tried to blink. You approached your face dangerously close to his. Your noses were almost touching, but you didn't budge though. You looked at him deep in the eyes, feeding on his pain. “Can you finally feel what I felt ?” Your tone was full of resolution. You stayed for a few seconds, just to pressure him, until you stepped back. You took each of his arms, and looked at his face again. “It’s okay. You’re a resilient boy, you’ll get through this”. You put on a fake pout, mocking compassion. “It’s not like I mattered much to you anyway, right ?”. 
You violently let go of him, shaking his arms with strength, your smile fading away. “Now go”. You walked right past him, took your keys, your bag and left. It was his apartment, and you still had some stuff left. After all, it’s not like you had planned to break him up today, he just brought it upon himself. The way you moved made it look like you were unaffected. You swiftly opened the door and exited. You walked with resoluteness, steady walking, chin up through the hallways, up until the elevator. 
On his side, it took Isagi a few seconds to register what had just happened. He was still standing there, blankly when you left, not even trying to get you back. So confused. Until it hit him. It hit him so hard. Tears started rolling down his cheeks uncontrollably as he fell to the ground. What had he done ? How did he allow himself to lose you ? The corny saying that you ‘only notice something when it’s gone’ finally had meaning. As he played in his head every little thing he was already missing from you, a crushing feeling of remorse dawned upon him. Finally, he realized everything he’d done wrong while going out with you, and to add to the burden he now bore, he finally saw that that’s what you had been complaining to him about. Everything you had said, you were right. 
Knees to the ground and hands shakily wiping off his tears, Isagi thought he’d never see the end of it. He wanted you back. Maybe if he called you, apologized, no, maybe if he, ugh it was in vain. He just wanted to tell you he’s sorry. But was he ? Maybe the two of you were not meant to be. He looked at his hands and got up, wiped his tears. Actually… you were wrong. He did everything right. But you were an ungrateful lucky lover. 
Obviously, it’d end up like this. You broke down crying in the elevator. How foolish were you, to think he’d be affected. Like it always happens, you were the one hurt, and he didn't question himself. If just once it could’ve been reversed. 
Rin - 1k2 words
Even though the lights were bright and the crowd was loud, it's like you weren't there. Everyone around you was keenly embroiled, but you could barely distinguish the players on the field. You had come to watch your boyfriend play, just like you’d watched every other game of his from this season. But this time, you couldn't force yourself to get into it. Your vision was blurry, you know, when you can't focus your eyes on something ? You see it happen from afar, you’d like to catch every detail of it, but your eyes just won’t let you. It happens when you’re tired, or when you don’t put in enough effort. You could not concentrate, too busy thinking.
You were sitting in the vip spot, all alone, unfilled seats surrounding you, an empty, almost sad, look on your face. You knew what would come after the match. And as boring as the game felt to you today -even though it wasn’t- you didn't want it to end. Because it finishing meant you also had to finish something. Something you had to say to Rin. He scores, smiles faintly and glances at your direction. 
But you weren’t looking at him anymore. When you watch him these days… You don’t feel anything anymore. If you could force yourself to do so, you would have already done it a while ago. Every candle you blow is accompanied by the same wish, to restore the feelings you once had for him. It would feel so much easier if you could continue on pretending. What’s wrong with you ? He’s the dream guy…
You stared into space, and suddenly your ears rang louder than before. You looked up to see that the match had ended. You take a deep breath, faintly smile as you know your boyfriend is looking at you, and get up. Time to face reality. As you make your way to the backstage to meet him, you start thinking. You still have that surreal, high on over-stimulation feel, but your thoughts start clearing up: this might be the worst time to do what you’re about to do. He had just won a match, almost single-handedly carrying his team, and his season was far from over. It would most likely break his spirit. But you just felt like being selfish… Once again. Feigning this much, you can't do it longer. There was nothing left anymore that made you want to stay, apart from the objectivity that Rin himself, is what anyone would wish for. Even that was obvious to you, but it wasn’t enough anymore. Nowadays looking at him is like looking at a dessert when you’re not hungry. You don’t even want it, it wouldn’t satisfy you. 
You feel the coldness of the metal stair rail you’re trailing your fingers on. It brings you to where you ought to go. “Y\N”. His voice is just as cold. You used to dig that, though. “I did good, didn’t I?” “You sure did”, you answer, looking at the floor. “Look Rin, there’s something I wanna tell you. I’m sorry for being brutal. I want us to break up”. 
The whole room paused. Oh yes, because at this point, I might as well do it in a room full of people. They were bound to find out anyway. Rin’s feeble smile totally faded. His mouth was even slightly opened from shock. “Le-let’s take this elsewhere”. Rin had put a serious face on and sharply grabbed your wrist, dragging you rather inconsiderately in the staircase. No one came here ever. The sound resonated so well, it was almost scary. If someone were to pass by, they would hear everything. “Why so sudden ?”
You were so ashamed. You frenziedly shook your hand off his grip, still looking at the floor. “I don't know. It’s been on my mind a while. It just took me some time to muster the courage”. Lies. “That’s odd. It’s selfish, but I wish you’d never told me”. Rin took his hand to your chin, raising your head up so you’d look him in the eyes. You tried to escape, and look left or right, but you felt emeralds piercing right through your eyes. You looked straight up. You were most definitely going to miss this perfect face. His cold hands and towering stature. “Tell me the truth now”. He commended and you obeyed, as always:
“I dont love you anymore”. You glossy lips rested pouty. It was almost criminal, saying this while staring at him dead in the eyes. He roughly let you go with a ‘tch’, making you lose your balance. “That’s it huh ?” His back was turned but you could feel the disappointment in his voice. Not sad, just let down by your lack of effort. He was right though, if you were to end it, you could’ve done it nicely. You didn't know what to do as he wasn't speaking anymore. “Are you okay with that ?” What stupid thing to say. You looked at him, waiting for an answer. “Okay. Let’s break up”. Rin finally turned to you. You felt your heart fall to your chest, so heavy. Why now ? You’d rehearsed this conversation over and over, you knew well you didn't have feelings for him anymore. So why is it hurting ? Why now ? Rin walked to what you thought was closer to you, but shifted before. He was going for the door. “Tomorrow, come pick up your stuff at my place. If you can’t, please text my maid, she’ll get it sent to your address”. You started feeling tears welling up and your throat itching. “Is that all ?” You got walking too, to reach Rin. 
Pushing Rin’s chest with both your hands, you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier. But he barely budged. Your voice cracked: “Come on, react ! I don't know, throw a fit, cry, disrespect me, act like you care ! Grab my shoulders and shake me, shove me to the wall !” You were totally breaking down. Tears were now rolling down your flushed cheeks, your hands were shaking, rested on his chest. 
“Is that wrong for me, to love you so much I'll accept everything you do to me ?”. You looked up, surprised to hear him answer. “If you want to break up, I'll accept, because I'd do anything and everything for you. I love you like that ! I’m so hurt but I'm trying to keep it cool so you don’t regret your decision. If you came to realize how terrible you’re treating me right now, you would feel bad. Let me pretend I'm the bad guy so you walk away with a clean conscience.” His words sunk into you. “What, did you, on top of treating me like this, expect me to plead with you to stay, to change your mind ? I’m all yours, but I'm no beggar.”
Rin finally pushed you off him, looking down on you. “It’s over, goodbye”. The sound of his voice and the door shutting closed resonated in the staircase. It felt so alone. You stood there shaking from the cold and crying. It might be better like this.
A\N: ngl, these are borderline corny, ooc, and took me way too long to write TT. Next time i'll write HC maybe. Advices anyone ?! not rly proud of these.
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rigelmejo · 3 months ago
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Tips for starting to read in the language you're studying. While this might seem critical in a language like japanese, it also helps if studying a language you think you can sound out.
So at some point, yes, you will read without technology or tools to help you. In fact if you feel like it, you can always do some practice with no tools/aids immediately. You can always mix using tools to help, along with sometimes using no tools to see how you handle the skill on your own. So these suggestions are just tips for when you DO use tools.
1. As a beginner, if you're learning new words: listen to audio of word pronunciations! At least sometimes! Whether that means studying on an app like anki with flashcards that include audio, or hearing new words PRONOUNCED in a show you watch, or listening to an audiobook While you read a Graded Reader with new words. Or even just clicking the audio icon on Google Translate when you look up a new word or phrase, so you hear audio for how the new thing is pronounced. Get SOME audio exposure to how new words sound.
It will help you develop a listening recognition of the word, instead of only a reading recognition.
(You can see how that's important in japanese where the same kanji in 2 words may be pronounced totally different, but it also helps with basic things like getting used to the sounds of the specific language and what spelled syllables are pronounced like in different words. Or in say chinese's case it lets you notice how tone pairs sound in different combinations, how chinese chi or ci or zi sounds different, how those pinyin spellings are pronounced different in chinese versus how another language you know would pronounce those pinyin letters etc).
It will also, critically, help you develop a mental impression of how the language sounds. It seems unimportant as a beginner to even be thinking about that - and you don't need to think about it. But do include audio exposure to new words for a WHILE. It will build your ability to hear differences in sounds in the language, separate words you hear mentally, have a mental sound of the Rhythm of sentences, have a mental sound you'll eventually be relying on for your own pronunciation when speaking and your ability to parse listening to people speaking.
(I slacked on listening to french as I learned, the first year, and so my mental voice for french was... mostly english sounding, which as you may guess meant while my reading gradually improved... my listening skills were zero because I had nothing even remotely useful in my mind for french pronunciation. So I couldn't recognize any words I heard! I spent a few months at that point, a year in, listening to french pronunciations of words and podcasts for learners, and that alone just helped SO MUCH in forming a mental sound for "if I see X syllable in french it sounds in the ballpark of Y" so when I said words they were at least somewhat understandable in french, and when I read words to learn more I developed a decent enough guess of how those words sounded that I'd recognize them later in listening. When I started learning chinese, I learned my lesson lol, and I listened to all new words at least once in Google Translate or any app with an audio button - like Memrise, Anki, Pleco, Google Translate, etc. I was able to watch cdramas, and guess which pinyin to type for what I heard - like say zi versus ci, or zhi versus chi - within a few months. The ability to distinguish those sounds, and to notice how they do Not sound like english zi or ci, was very helpful. In japanese, including listening to new words can help you learn kanji readings WITH words, and like any language how the japanese sounds are unique versus other language mental sounds in your head. If you say study two romance languages like french or spanish, then putting even just a few months of initial time getting used to pronunciation differences helps you build mental sound models SPECIFIC to the languages. So you don't get spanish or french confused after a few months, because you can notice how different they sound - when maybe initially you could not.)
2. As a beginner, when you read, use audio as you read at least sometimes. Simple ways you can do this: read digitally and use a tool to hear the pronunciation of new words (in Pleco or Readibu this is clicking a word and the speaker icon, in Google Translate its pasting in the new word and pressing the speaker icon, in a web browser its right clicking then use Translate then use the Translate pop-up's speaker icon etc). You can use TTS (text to speech) such as on a web page (Microsoft Edge Read Aloud TTS is quite nice), or in an app like Pleco or Kindle (or any ebook Reader app should have TTS read aloud option). You can watch shows with audio and subtitles in the language you're learning (so you practice reading the subtitles as you hear the audio). You can use a transcript with a podcast, or an audiobook with a novel (or a Graded Reader and TTS or audiobook). You don't always need to listen when you read. But do it at least once in a while. So that you keep learning the pronunciation of new words. You'll want to do this at Least until you have a basic mental sound of the language, and if it's a language like chinese ot japanese you may want to Keep getting audio-text exposure every so often to ensure in chinese you learn correct pronunciations with new words (and tones), and in japanese you learn correct pronunciations of new words. This doesn't have to mean novels either, it can be as simple as shows with same language subtitles once in a while, or a transcript (or auto generated captions) for some youtube video or podcast once in a while. Even in languages like english or french or russian, spelling doesn't always equal actual pronunciation, so even once you have a basic mental sound model you'll want to keep getting some text-audio exposure if you want to build up the skill.
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a-mag-a-day · 2 years ago
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MAG 46 - apple cutting
"His name was Michael Crew, though he normally went by Mike" - Was there already a confusion in the fandom back then that Crew already got a nickname to make him distinguishable from Michael Distortion?
"Gottfried Leibniz" - I not E, Jonny! "Ei" in German is pronounced like the letter I. You're thinking of "ie" (like in "Gottfried"), that would sound like the letter E. You can do it in Leitner, why are the other names with "ei" a problem? xD (There was also one in MAG 23).
5:11 "He was able to pay five figures for a copy of a 1559 printing", rustling in the background at "for a"?
Ha, the Malleus Maleficarum… I spend a lot of time hunting down scans of the book only then to realize I mixed up the names of the books I needed (I was actually looking for the Compendium Maleficarum, oops XD)
After "the lightbulbs in my shop would burn brighter" a high-pitched whistling sound in the background starts and it slowly fades out again at "It was February when I got the Leitner book."
"Well, in January of this year, she passed away. Lost balance on the stairs and broke her neck." - Hm, lost balance… Did she experience vertigo perhaps?^^
Wow, during the whole segment of describing the tale of the Ex Altiora you can hear static!
Static again during the period of describing the woodcuts.
"I had bad dreams, as well. I don’t recall them with any clarity, but I’m rather sure they were dreams of falling." - The shitty small sibling of the Ex Altiora is responsible for dreaming of missing a step when almost asleep and therefore startling awake.
High-pitched whistling starts again at "The bulbs crackled and brightened" and stops again at "he was out into the rainy February afternoon."
"but I could make out the words “altiora,” “vertigo,” and “the vast.”" - This is the first time we explicitly hear the name of an entity as in Smirke's 14, right? Prentiss spoke of them too, but she didn't know about them exactly. She said "Webs have a song as well", not "The Web has a song as well". And Gerry used alternative names in MAG 12, Beholding and the Lightless Flame, but not the popular "The Something-Something" way Smirke described them.
At "and in front of him was a strange, branching figure." the whistling starts again with a descending tone while Mike was falling and all stops at "and I was alone in the dark." I don't know if I ever noticed this in any of my listens…
"with a cry of “I am yours,” he leapt through the open window, and – presumably – to his death." - The birth of a full-fledged Avatar right there.
19:56 "comparing his statement to that of Dominic Swain in 0132806", right after 6 thump again^^
"The book which Mr. Knox received did not seem to have a woodcut of the dark night sky, with the branching, arching design of the Lichtenberg figure." - Mike trapped the Spiral lightning monster in the book, right? It took me so long, to get this… I think this arc in general was quite confusing as to what belonged to the Vast and what to the Spiral since I still see a lot of depictions of lighting in artworks of the Vast. Then again, lightning is part of the sky and the sky is a typical domain of the Vast. One of those edges bleeding together I'd guess.
"I noticed the trapdoor appeared to have been disturbed. It was unlocked." - Jon, you are paranoid about the absolute right things!
"The only difference now is… all the spiderwebs. They seem to have spread down there. I think I saw some of the larger specimens actually eating the remains of the worms." - Well…
I used to be obsessed with Leibniz's monads idea, it was so cool
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telomeke-bbs · 2 years ago
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Or maybe instead of lol I need to type 555. Okay, after re-watching all of ep 5, I watched the Soonvijarn ep 5 recap, then watched (am watching) ep 5 4/4 once more. During Soonvijarn ep 5 there's a moment where I'm guessing they're not happy with, which is subtitled as shi and they flash a road sign ซิ! which Wiktionary only says is an intensifier. But at ep 5 4/4 8:57 Pran says an un-subtitled "ซิ" (I think) in "Pat, you've got to stop doing this to me." I don't know Thai. Thoughts?
Hi there Anon! 😊 Your Ask there had me a bit confused for a spell.
I couldn't find the road sign in the Soon Vijarn Ep.5 recap, but found it in their recap of Ep.4 at timestamp 11.17 instead:
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The word on screen is (I think) actually ชิ (pronounced "shi"), not the ซิ (pronounced "si") that you have in your Ask (I think that's a typo; a thai po? 😉). The two letters are awfully similar though – there's only a tiny notch above the little circle to distinguish them.
The word ชิ ("shi") is "an exclamation of disgust or contempt" (according to thai-language.com). The Soonvijarnies use it during their Recap critique to mean any aspect of the episode at hand that they feel could have been done better.
However, it's also not the same as the swear word that Pran uses on the rooftop at Ep.5 [4/4] 8.57:
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The word that Pran says here is เชี่ย (pronounced "shia"), which is a softened version of one of the worst curse words in the Thai language – เหี้ย (pronounced "hia").
The word เหี้ย ("hia") actually refers to the Asian water monitor, an animal hugely reviled in Thailand because it's associated with carrion-feeding (and is thus considered beyond base and unclean):
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(above) The Asian water monitor, photo by Carlos Delgado, link to license here
"Shia" (เชี่ย) is considered milder than "hia" (เหี้ย), but both are still extremely vulgar and should not be used in public – you can get beaten up if they're said in the wrong context to the wrong people. This Twitter thread has more information if you'd like to read more: https://twitter.com/ogtnaf/status/1206502403312365568.
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Rude as they are, "shia" (เชี่ย) and "hia" (เหี้ย) do appear elsewhere in Bad Buddy. 👀 Some other examples of "shia" (เชี่ย) in BBS:
Pat at Ep.3 [1I4] 13.09 (when he opens his apartment door to see his friends all battered after the bus stop brawl);
Korn at Ep.3 [4/4] 0.37 (after Pat hits him on the back of his head);
Pran at Ep.5 [4/4] 3.07 (grappling with Pat during the fight scene, frustrated that he won't play along at being enemies in front of Wai).
And some examples of the ruder "hia" (เหี้ย):
Pran at Ep.5 [4/4] 2.32 (mock-swaggering toward Pat during the fight scene);
Wai at Ep.5 [4/4] 4.14 (also during the fight scene);
Pran at Ep.6 [2/4] 9.50 (when he confronts Pat on the beach and asks to be left alone);
Pat (several times) when he confronts Wai during their rugby game against Chaiwiwat in Ep.9 [2/4] starting from 10.51 – especially clear at 11.02;
Their rugby coach at Ep.9 [2/4] 11.16 and 11.30 (when he chews out the team for their performance);
Korn (I think) at Ep.9 [3I4] 11.24 (running to Pat's aid during the car park fight outside the Flagpole Bar);
Ming (I think) at Ep.10 [4/4] 1.33 (when he confronts Pat and Pran at the mall).
I'm sure there are others, but I'm not trusting my ear to pick them all out – I think the above are the more obvious examples though.
Pa also calls Pat "hia" all the time, but it's a different word and she's not being rude. She's using the Teochew Chinese term of address for elder brother (เฮีย in Thai or 兄 in Chinese). "Hia" as an honorific for an older Chinese male is also heard all the time in Thai BL (it's used in My Engineer, Manner of Death, Between Us and KinnPorsche, for example). This word is pronounced with the neutral mid-tone in Thai, whereas the rude "hia" (เหี้ย) is pronounced with the falling tone (as in it starts high and then falls).
Multi-hyphenate actor Perth Nakhun (of My Engineer and KinnPorsche) also explains the difference between elder brother "hia" (เฮีย) and monitor lizard "hia" (เหี้ย) in this video at timestamp 10.50:
youtube
Hope you found this all interesting! I just love the language side of things, and Bad Buddy is so rich with verbal flourishes and wordplay that there's always some fascinating linguistic detail to look at – although it could also be that it's something common to all Thai dramas, and I'm just relatively new to it 🤷‍♂️. But regardless, I'm so happy to have found someone who shares the same interest that I do. 🤝
It was really fun chatting; let's do this again soon! 💖
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limestoner · 6 months ago
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Thinking about why I have trouble distinguishing between different people’s voices on the phone, pick out a single person’s voice in a busy room, and have trouble remembering who told me what.
From infancy, my brain has a “file” on every word I have ever heard. Some files are fat: “the”, “me”, “and”. Some files are thin: got sidetracked trying to find the spelling of a word I remember hearing in a spelling bee. It sounded like /kaɲkılieɾəd/.
And that’s an example of how I seem to store every production of a word I ever hear. The way the sounds fit together. The way it can grammatically fit together with other words. Each word has “receptors” that only work with specified other words around them.
I remember feeling drawn to the crisp sounds in German: “sch,” “ß”, “w” as /v/. I still feel so comfortable — no, happy forming them.
When I talk to someone, my brain seems to:
1. Record a whole conversational turn.
2. Break down into sentences.
3. Break down into words.
4. Break down into sounds.
5. Add information acquired from new productions to the language files. Like the X Files but probably not at all really. I did it again. I can’t hear the meaning over the words.
6. Now I have new data points to add to rules about pronunciation, spelling, meanings, and grammatical construction.
7. This all happens instantly and without me thinking about it. What I do have to think about is making sure that I am mirroring the other person’s communication, and a good way to do that is by using the words they use and furthering the conversation by adding more.
8. But my brain does not seem to keep track of where the line is for “on topic” or “off topic.” I’m building with the same words but there is some other meaning that I can’t seem to access.
9. Meanwhile, I’m struggling to see what someone’s facial expression is telling me. I find facial expressions to be hard to distinguish, but when I make a social error and some has a strong reaction, it scares me. It’s like I can’t see faces unless it’s bad. It can take several seconds or more of “staring” at someone to tell if I recognize them or not and who they might be. I feel bad for not knowing who they are, so I’m hesitant to ask.
10. I like it when people who aren’t in my small inner circle remind me who they are when they approach. It helps my brain “set up” for the conversation.
11. If I hear or read: “We need to talk,” “Could you please call me?” “I have to tell you something later,” or the like, I’m filled with anxiety. I can’t prepare for the conversation, so I know I’ll take a long time forming responses, be entirely unable to modulate my tone or emotions, and may melt or shut down entirely, or leave the situation before I do.
12. And then sometimes I get to that situation and the person is like, “I just wanted to tell you that I couldn’t find that hot sauce you like.” Now I still have to craft an emotionally appropriate response that is calm even though my nerves are screaming because I had to be ready for ANYTHING.
13. These things happen fast enough that I’m usually able to come up with something satisfactory to respond with, but it feels like physical exertion in my nervous system. Too many unexpected communication situations and I lose my ability to communicate.
14. I like theatre because I have the words. I have the stage directions and blocking. I can enjoy an interaction with others and be in the moment because I don’t have to constantly check my words for associated physical behaviors that I have minimal or no control over.
15. When I combine words together, my face and body are trying to follow along, but they don’t always match. I don’t notice this, but others do.
I can still hear the different ways I’ve heard words pronounced and used. But because I was expending all my effort to make sure I look and sound “normal,” I can come away from conversations not knowing who I spoke to in any meaningful way. I love being on the stage, whether acting or lecturing. I can call up words I need across languages. I’m filled with fear when I know that back and forth social interaction lies ahead.
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horizonandstar · 2 years ago
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It would b very cool if reader found a way to make a device that can help detect the right tones in sun and moons language and fucking realizes "what the fuck what the fuuuuck
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dear diary, i thought these guys were saying the same word to me. this has been going on for too long
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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago
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if i could keep cool | 4
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pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader
length: 20,322 words / 6 chapters
summary: A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.
tags: romance, reader-insert, accidental sugar daddy shouto, misunderstandings
warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut
There was no other word for it. Todoroki was a menace.
Though his schedule seemed to return to something approximating normal, he was still in the apartment often enough that you began to anticipate him being there. Even when he wasn’t, however, he made life difficult enough for you by leaving behind gifts, with progressively more disappointed notes if you didn’t take them. You didn’t know how it was possible to convey that flat tone in the shape of his letters, but you could practically hear it as you read them over.
Worse, he seemed to know exactly which of your weak points to exploit to get you to want the gifts--leaving you several more books, a bag of the really nice coffee beans from the coffee shop you’d told him about, and a sinfully soft scarf as the weather turned colder. When you continued to ignore the insane amount of money he seemed to think passed for a tip, fresh vegetables started cropping up on the countertops with notes that said things like I’m not going to eat these, if you don’t take them they will be wasted to guilt you into compliance.
A month into it, an entire grocery order started showing up every Thursday shift. My refrigerator is full so don’t try to stuff any of this in there, his note commanded.
He was a master of manipulation, it seemed, and to what end you didn’t know. You made mental notes to not mention any further likes during your conversations, but when he was there, Todoroki’s conversation was so easy and so natural, he continued to pull all the details out of you with ease.
So things you really, really liked kept turning up. And as you talked to him, Todoroki was turning into a thing that you really, really liked as well.
It was overwhelming.
The final straw was a Friday afternoon when you hit up the fancy coffee shop just outside campus. You walked in with the extra money you’d saved up not buying your own groceries, and the vague idea that you would get a head start on an upcoming paper. And then, the barista very obviously glanced between you and a sheet of paper taped to a corner of the register, and refused to let you pay for your order.
“Your order is free!” she chirped cheerfully.
You stared. “What?”
“It’s already taken care of!” she said, and immediately, a cloud of suspicion settled over you.
“What’s the occasion?” you asked.
She smiled. “The occasion is someone already paid for you!”
You glanced around the coffee shop, but you could find nothing but a few unfamiliar students purusing books or churning out work on their respective laptops. You turned back to her.
“And if I were to walk into this coffee shop tomorrow, would the occasion also be that someone already paid for me?”
She nodded. “Yes! All your future orders are paid for, please come as often as you like!”
You gaped at her, and she cheerfully stuffed your coffee into your hands. Then you glared down at the white paper cup accusingly, and it stared back at you, looking like one half of a certain menace’s hair color.
Oh, he was in for it.
You stalked over to a table and whipped out your cell phone, shooting off a message so fast your fingers practically burned.
todoroki what the hell
To your surprise, you received a reply almost immediately.
It’s Shouto.
Like hell it was.
first names are for friends, not psychopaths. did you really pay for all of my future orders at the coffee shop?
Is this your first time there this month? he answered. Where do you usually go?
You stared at your phone. He’d done this a month ago? Also, no way you were telling him your budget spot where you picked up lukewarm bean water when you couldn’t afford four dollar americanos. The last thing you needed was for him to buy them out, too.
You got to your feet, marching back over to the barista.
She smiled. “Back for something else?”
“Yeah, how do I cancel the all my orders are paid for thing?” you asked. “Can you just delete whatever info he left you and charge me from now on?”
She looked you up and down. “Are you sure?”
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
She stared, then leaned in to whisper. “You do know who paid for all your orders, right? Are you actually sure you want to cancel?”
A migraine started in your temples. Had Todoroki actually come in here himself to give his information? Was he trying to get you caught up in the secret lover bullshit that was still swirling in the media?
“I’m extra sure,” you smiled, then went back to your table, satisfied.
No sooner than you had dug out your laptop, though, when your phone buzzed. You looked down at the name on the screen and paled. Todoroki was way easier to deal with via text when you couldn’t hear that low, smooth tone directly in your ear. His face and his voice were absolutely fucking mind-melting, and it would be hard to maintain your stubborn stance even in the face of just one.
Still, though, this was the last straw.
“How many times do I have to tell you that friendship is free?” you hissed quietly as you picked up.
“They told me you tried to cancel,” he said flatly, and your head whipped up to glare at the barista accusingly. She smiled.
“Todoroki--”
“Shouto,” he said.
“Fine, Shouto,” you said, “It’s been a month and maybe I let you get the wrong idea by accepting all of the vegetables and everything, but this ends here. I told you that it doesn’t cost anything to be friends with me, and you had better stop apologizing. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but--”
“Then do,” he said simply.
“What?”
“Then just appreciate it,” he answered. His voice was somehow even lower on the phone and a shiver went down your spine, despite your frustration with him. “Just accept them. Why is it so bad if a friend gives you things?”
God, he was such a rich boy, wasn’t he?
“Shouto, I do appreciate it,” you said. “But I don’t need any of that. And I know that you know this isn’t necessary--I highly doubt that you are buying Midoriya all of his weekly coffees or draping Bakugou in soft scarves. All you need to be friends with me is to just hang out, the same way you do them.”
Shouto was quiet a moment. “Hang out,” he finally said, slowly, like he was tasting the words in his mouth. Then, “Are you free right now?”
“W-what?” you managed.
“You don’t have class right now, right? Your last lecture just let out.”
You were surprised that he remembered your class schedule. Just how much had you told him?
“Uh, yeah?” you asked.
“Good, stay where you are. We’re hanging out,” he pronounced the words like they were foreign on his tongue, then hung up.
You stared down at your phone in shock. He wanted to hang out with you? Like, outside of his apartment?
There was no arguing the two of you got along relatively well, now that the threat of your crazy fandom and the weight of his mistake no longer hung over your relationship. You talked easily enough the one or two times you saw him during any given week. But so far your interactions had been somewhat limited, confined to the familiar space of his apartment and limited to the time that you had to be there. You texted a little outside of that, but you’d never just casually hung out.
Then the weight of his words really hit you. He was coming here? To the coffee shop? In full view of your entire campus? Was he insane?
You ran through a mental checklist of things in your bag that could be used to disguise him but came up short. You didn’t know exactly what he planned to look like when he put in an appearance here, but you were not interested in fanning the flames of the secret lover garbage that was still all over twitter and splashed across the glossy pages of the magazines at the grocery store.
You shot to your feet and threw your bag over your shoulder, then ran out the door, dashing for the campus shop that sat just outside the student center. You blew through the door and dove straight for the apparel section, grabbing the least heinous hat that looked like it would cover most of Shouto’s distinctive hairstyle while also drawing the least amount of attention to its wearer. You also helped yourself to a plain pair of sunglasses that would probably be kind of inappropriate in the fall weather, but would go a long way in hiding his eyes and that scar.
Why did he insist on having so many distinguishing features? Would it kill him to have dark hair and dark eyes like most of the rest of the earth’s population?
You threw the items and a wad of bills down on the register counter, then paused. A few small, slightly-wilted looking bouquets of flowers sprouted from buckets just beside the register in the colors of your university. You didn’t know what the colors or type of the flowers were supposed to mean, and they probably didn’t give off exactly the message you wanted to send, but Shouto had gotten you flowers as the first gift he’d ever given you…
You grabbed the least wilted looking bunch and threw them on top of the other items.
The cashier rang you up with all the urgency of a sloth, and you tapped your foot nervously as you waited. How was Shouto getting here? How long would it take him? Would he be at the coffee shop already?
You stuffed the flowers into your bag, then launched yourself out of the campus shop like a rocket, catching that mop of red and white hair just outside the entrance to the coffee shop. You put on a burst of speed and managed to jam the baseball cap down over his head before he pulled open the door. He turned to you in surprise.
“Y/N,” he said.
“Yes, hi, hello,” you managed while also trying to ram the sunglasses onto his face.
He let out a small huff of amusement. “What are you doing?”
“What you should have done before coming here, you absolute wackjob,” you said, finally managing to slip the shades over his high-bridged nose without poking his eyes out.
Shouto let you manhandle him to your liking, until his face and hair were mostly hidden under your university merchandise.
“Okay, you should be good now,” you said, looking him over. He still stood out, honestly, too tall and outrageously handsome, even covered up as he was. The sweater and well-fitting jeans he’d chosen would still draw anyone’s gaze straight to his trim figure, but it would have to do.
“We can’t go inside, though, you’ll look too shady with the cap and glasses,” you said. “We need to go somewhere outdoors.”
He stared down at you, one eyebrow lifted over the top of his sunglasses. “It’s fall.”
You thought for a moment.
“How do you feel about izakaya?” you asked. “There’s a street-side one not far from here that’s mostly outdoors. They’re good, and I think they’re still open.”
He nodded. “Do you go there often?”
You eyed him. “Oh no. If I tell you places I go, you apparently buy them out. The whole point of you being here is to prove that buying me things is stupid when we can just hang out.”
The corner of his mouth twitched like he was being told a joke you couldn’t hear. “Lead the way, then,” he said evenly.
You pulled him down a few blocks, expertly navigating your way through the winding city streets. You would never admit as much to him, but this place was one of your faves for good beer and cheap yakitori, and you could probably easily find your way both blindfolded and drunk. Shouto followed you easily, a tall, silent warmth at your back.
There were few people at the izakaya when you arrived, considering it was still a little early for dinner, and no one gave the two of you a second glance when you pulled back the curtains and helped yourselves to pair of stools in the corner of the stall.
“Okay, you have to get a beer and yakitori first," you said. "You can do whatever you want after, but the first round has to be that. Just trust me.”
“No vegetables?” Shouto asked.
You laughed. “I know that’s my brand. And there are good veggie side dishes. But there is nothing like fresh, warm, cheap yakitori and a really good beer, especially on a cool fall day like this. I know what I’m talking about.”
A soft smile pulled at his mouth. “So you do come here often.”
You stared up at him accusingly. “If you dare throw a single dollar at them, you’re in huge trouble. I know where you live.”
He smiled down at you. It was easier to notice how boyish his grin was when the rest of his face was hidden by his sunglasses, and heat flared in your cheeks. He was just so damn good looking.
It suddenly dawned on you how forward you’d been with him, sending him sassy texts and putting your hands all over him when you were attempting to stuff him into your university swag. Your relationship had progressed somewhat since that first book he’d bribed you with, but honestly, this was completely new ground for you.
Your face burned hotter. You’d been so, so inexcusably forward. Had you lost your mind?
Shouto seemed to be thinking about the hat as well. “So, do I look like a student at your university?”
You looked him up and down. Aside from your school’s name emblazoned across his baseball cap, he looked nothing like a student, too put together in his dark sweater and jeans that probably cost more than your monthly rent. You wondered if he’d even been within ten feet of an instant ramen cup in his entire life.
“Uh, no,” you said. “You look like someone forced you to wear a hat they panic purchased and it just so happened to be the least horrible one available.”
A smile played about his mouth again. “What were the other options?”
You grinned. “It was this one or a proud dad of a college grad cap.”
He let out a small huff of amusement. You smiled, then leaned forward as the man at the counter came over to take your order, making sure to cut Shouto off before he could attempt any rich boy tricks. You put in an order for two beers and what was probably a concerning amount of yakitori, then turned back to Shouto and almost fell off your stool when he was much closer than you’d expected.
“Do you have a teleportation quirk I don’t know about?” you asked, internally panicking at his proximity. He was close enough now that you could feel the heat of him and catch the scent of his cologne, light and fresh and disturbingly good.
He smiled that boyish smile again and your heart suddenly forgot how to do its job, freezing in your chest. “It’s cold.”
You rolled your eyes. “You have a fire quirk.”
You felt the air grow a little warmer around the two of you. “I meant for you,” he said.
You were torn between relaxing into the sudden warmth and freezing up in embarrassment. It was beginning to dawn on you just how attentive and thoughtful he always was, and you wondered vaguely if the gift giving was actually just a really extreme manifestation of that personality trait. Maybe being an awkward rich boy with a weird way of making friends was just part of the issue.
Your heartbeat suddenly kicked into overdrive. He was already so overwhelming to look at, incredibly brave, such a good listener, and way too easy to talk to. You did not need to pile on other endearing qualities to the frankly alarming number of things feeding into what was quickly becoming the fattest crush of your lifetime. Did he have to be so good all the time?
A hand suddenly reached out, pulling you closer so that you were practically fused to his left side. You stiffened, resisting the urge to curl into the warmth pouring off of him in thick waves.
Not good, this was so not good.
“Uh, you don’t have to do that,” you said, tongue thick, like you were speaking through a mouthful of applesauce. “I’m wearing the scarf you got me.”
Shouto tilted his head, and though you couldn’t see his expression behind the sunglasses, something like satisfaction curled the corner of his mouth. “Good,” he said in his deep tone, “but this will help too.”
“Really, you’re my friend not my personal space heater,” you insisted, trying to squirm away from him. “You don’t need to do this.”
He flared hotter, and a strong arm went around the back of your chair, halting your escape. “I don’t mind,” he said.
God it was like he didn’t even know what effect he had on people. People, of course, being cleaning ladies with twitters full of zoomed in pictures of his abs. It was not good for your health to be this close to him, couldn’t he just let you sit ten thousand miles away from him where both of you would be a little safer?
The izakaya owner interrupted this train of thought, pushing two beers and a plateful of yakitori between the two of you.
You instantly seized on the distraction, bringing a beer to your mouth to give you a couple moments for your brain to turn on again. It was refreshingly cold, and the flavor was nostalgic, tasting like breaks after class with friends and late nights stumbling back after several rounds of karaoke and drinking. You wondered now if, in the future, you would taste it and think back to the one time you’d hung out with Shouto Todoroki.
“It’s good,” Shouto said, looking at you over the rim of his own beer.
You smiled. “I told you.”
Then you shoved a stick of yakitori at him. “Now eat this and tell me I was right about it too.”
His fingers slid along yours as he took the stick from you, calloused and warm. “...You were right about this too,” he said after managing a bite.
You felt yourself puff up. “Of course I was.”
He smiled and helped himself to the rest. With the food and drink absorbing some of your attention, you were able to calm down somewhat, and the conversation returned to normal, you doing your best to forget about the sinfully warm arm curled around your back.
Here, too, Shouto was absurdly easy to talk to, the new venue doing nothing to dull his charm or the easy way that he pulled information out of you with a few, short, well-placed questions. Over the course of a few hours, you worked your way through a few beers and several more side dishes, the conversation never letting up. Shouto was just as intelligent and thoughtful as ever, and he made you laugh with a couple of unexpectedly short tempered comments. Even the discovery that he was not as princely as he usually seemed just fanned the flames of your crush.
It was only when the people around you began to shuffle off of their stools and pack up that you realized how late it had grown, and that you’d spent the entire evening hanging out and talking.
Shouto helped you off your stool when you stumbled a little, the number of beers you’d consumed suddenly making themselves known. “You’re more of a lightweight than I would have guessed by the conversation,” he teased.
You looked up into his face, realizing that he’d shed the sunglasses at some point during your conversation and you hadn’t noticed. Had anyone else noticed? No one had come over asking for an autograph. Maybe he was so unexpected at a place like this that the hat had been enough of a disguise.
You blinked, realized you’d been staring. “Nonsense, I’m a pro. I’ve put in many more beers at this place.”
Then your eyes narrowed at the slow movement his hand was making along the counter, what looked suspiciously like a stack of bills underneath. That little shit.
“Are you trying to distract me?” you demanded, grabbing his hand and stuffing the money back into it. “This is on me. I haven’t paid for groceries in weeks, thanks to somebody.”
Shouto smirked, looking strangely pleased with himself. His hand curled around yours, and his other came up to take your free hand. It was only when he’d transferred both of your wrists into one large palm that you realized what he was doing, plopping down a handful of bills on the counter quickly with his free hand, then pulling your backpack over your shoulder and tugging you away from the izakaya before you could make a scene. You’d been thoroughly outmaneuvered.
“I’ll take you home,” he said, steering you back out into the street. “Give me your address.”
“Shouto,” you whined, “this whole evening was supposed to be about proving you don’t need to spend money to be my friend. We were supposed to hang out.”
“We did hang out,” he pointed out, looking down at you from under the rim of that ridiculous baseball cap. “Your point was very much made.”
It was a testament to how tipsy you were, probably, that this warmed you. You forgot your annoyance with him almost immediately. “Really?”
He huffed a laugh. “Really. Now give me your address so I can take you home.”
You did and he plugged it into his phone. Then he led you along with one hand curled around yours. You spent the whole walk musing on how warm his fingers were in yours, how much larger his hands seemed than yours. Why was even his stupid hand so nice?
It was only as Shouto walked you to the door of your apartment that you remembered the last thing you’d gotten for him in the campus store. You quickly unzipped your backpack, shoving the bouquet of flowers at him.
“For you,” you said, pressing them into his chest. “You got me those flowers. These ones aren’t as nice, but I thought that you should have some too.”
He stared down at you, something strange glinting in his eyes. “You got me flowers.”
“Do you not like them?” you asked nervously. Was it weird to give a guy flowers? It was probably weird…
“I like them,” he declared, and a genuine smile flickered across his mouth. His eyes looked a little brighter, and his gaze was growing more intent by the second. “Now, you should probably get inside before I forget my manners.”
Forget his manners? You stared up at him in confusion.
He looked down at you for a long moment, and then he was suddenly very close, his face dipping down to yours.
“Get inside,” he said quietly, voice deeper than you’d ever heard it. “Please.”
You nodded, swallowing. You had just enough presence of mind to turn and unlock your door. Shouto guided you gently inside with a hand on your back, and then stepped back outside, smiling.
“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” he said.
You waved. “See you on Tuesday.”
You watched him make his way back down the street, only closing your door when you saw him turn the corner and disappear out of sight. Then you sank down against the door frame, heart feeling like it was going to beat straight out of your chest.
Shouto was the most overwhelming man on this earth. You were in such big trouble.
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queenofspades6 · 4 years ago
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More than partners - The Mandalorian x reader
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A Home
Chapter 15 of More than partners
Summary: Grogu choses his own way. Obviously, you and the Mandalorian are terrified to be alone again.
Warnings: Smut. A lot of fluff
AN: Helloooo! This is the last chapter of More than Partners until season 3! This chapter is probably the longest, and I hope you’ll all like it since it was written with all my heart! I’ll appreciate it if you like, and share the story and leave feedback please! Thanks to you all!
———
<Chapter 14
———
Here you were in Boba Fett’s ship with Bo-Katan Kryze, Lambda, Cara Dune, Boba himself, Fennec, the Mandalorian and the scientist you captured to bring back the Child.
It was a difficult task to get everyone to agree. Mando wanted to fight the Deathtroopers alone while you would go with Bo-katan and Fennec. Obviously, you didn’t agree, but the bounty hunter had assured you it would be better for you to protect Bo-Katan and Cara and take back the Child after. Being apart from the Mandalorian wasn’t something you liked. You feared it was going to be the last time you would see each other.
While Bo-Katan and Cara were arguing about who would have the chance to capture Moff Gideon first, you and Mando chose to slip away from others.
You were in Boba Fett’s one and only room. It was simple with a cot along the wall, and a small rusty table with some food on it.
“What?”Mando questioned staring at you.
“Nothing.”You answered, smiling at him.
“Tell me what is it Y/N? I know when there is something bothering you.”
You sighed and looked at the ground awkwardly.
“Are you really going there alone? Fighting all these Deathtroopers? Why can’t you just accept my help for once?”You vociferated, hands on your waist.
“I can take care of the Deathtroopers. I want you to be there for Cara if something happens and watch Bo-Katan. There is something off with her. She wants something.”
You nodded and took some steps towards the Mandalorian.
“I agree, but what if the deathstroopers ki-kill you?”
“They won’t, Y/N. They won’t, I promise.”
He approached you and caressed your face with his gloved hand.
“Keep your promises for you if you can’t keep them.”You whispered, a tear running on your cheek.
“I won’t die, Y/N. Not today. If you live, I live.”
With a surprising softness, Mando embraced you with his arms, your head against his chest.
“I’d give anything just to kiss you right now.”You murmured, stroking his neck.
The Mandalorian pulled away from the embrace, turned off the light and locked the door of the room.
“You can.”He replied, taking off his helmet in the twilight.
You didn’t make him wait. In a rapid motion, you took his chin between your fingers and kissed him. The kiss slowly became hungry, each of your tongues fighting for dominance. Din passed a hand through your shirt, and you let him, slowly leaving a trail of kisses from his neck to his clavicle.
“Din, I-“
“Shh, Y/N.”
“Din. Stop. What if someone enters.”You asked, caressing Din’s arm with a finger.
“Let them see.”
“Hmm.”
A hand below your knee, Din brought you closer to his chest. He kissed you on the lips and began to put his lips on your collarbone while kissing lower and lower. Then, he unbuttoned your shirt, his eyes staring at you. The light was closed, and yet, you could distinguish Din’s features. It was pleasant to finally be able to see the color of his eyes or his hair. When Din was staring at your soul with his eyes, you realized that he hadn’t broken his Creed for Grogu or for you, no, he created a new Creed, his own. He followed his Way. Meeting Bo-Katan and then Boba Fett made the Mandalorian become aware that there wasn’t one and only Creed that all the Mandalorian needed to follow. It was a matter of point of view. From now on, Din Djarin knew you and Grogu were part of his Creed. Drowning in your eyes, he knew protecting a Jedi and a Force sensitive child was now the Way.
“Why are you looking at me, Din?”
“You are beautiful, Y/N.”
You grinned and immediately lowered your gaze.
Your shirt still on but unbuttoned, Din fondled one of your breasts, his eyes on you, watching each one of your reaction, ready to stop with only a word. Your eyes closed, and your mouth agape, the Mandalorian took it as an answer to continue. His lips on your nipples, you gasped. His lips were so perfect, you could kiss him forever.
Din began to make his way lower.
“Not so fast, tin can.”You giggled.”You are overdressed.”
The Mandalorian laughed, and you helped him remove his armor, his shirt and then his trousers. He smiled at you with a loving look.
Din took you in his arms and made you sit on the ledge of the cot. Lips intertwined with each other, he kissed your chest, then your stomach, and removed your pants slowly. You felt his hands caressing your inner thighs and then your panties. His touch was so sweet, so pleasant your breathing was getting harder. He left a slow kiss on your panties, and then he removed them, his gaze on you. He began to make his way lower, caressing your inner thighs, and glancing at you sometimes. You could feel his breath against your skin while his fingers worked on you. You let a soft moan escape your mouth when his wet tongue stroked your pussy, closing around your sensitive bundles of nerves. How could you not enjoy that? Here the Mandalorian was, all yours. For tonight, and maybe forever. Din began to lick harder and with more pressure, while your breathing became heavier. You put your hands on his hair, caressing it while writhing from pleasure and moving your hips in order to have that special friction you desperately craved.
“Not so fast.”The Mandalorian whispered softly and grinning.
You sighed.
“Din. Please. I want you. Right now. On this bed.”
He laughed, and you straddled him fiercely. You graze the skin of his face with your fingers, gently moving to his lips, the lips you adored so much. With impatience and frustration, you removed his boxer. You wanted to be the one in control tonight, but Din wouldn’t let you. Not today. One of you may die today. And he wanted you in his own way. The only way he knew.
“Not on the bed, Y/N.”
You gave Din a questioning look, and without waiting, he stood up, and too you in his arms.
“What are you doing, tin can?”You asked, eyebrows raised in wonder.
He pressed you naked against the wall, his toned body against yours. You rolled your hips when you censed his girth pressed against your pussy. The Mandalorian caressed your breasts and your stomach, before reaching your clit with his tender fingers. You gasped, and in a rapid motion, you felt him at your entrance. The heat in the room began rising, and you didn’t care anymore about the noise you and Din would make. The Mandalorian teased you endlessly, and you knew you wouldn’t last long, though each time, you felt yourself coming, he removed his fingers. And when you expected him the least, he buried himself inside of you.
“You are so wet for me, Y/N.”
You held your breath painfully, while Mando began thrusting harder, snapping his hips. You cried out when he massaged your sore clit and arched against his touch. The labored breathing of Din, his skin clinging against yours, his hand on your asscheeks while another was on your waist and the small pain in your thighs. It was too much. You couldn’t hold it any longer. You clenched around him, murmuring his name sweetly like a melody. Hearing you come, the Mandalorian knew he was close. How could he not when someone as beautiful and incredible as you were writhing in pleasure. He thrusts into you shallowly one last time, groaning and pulling out his softening cock. Both of you stayed there, naked against the wall, your breaths being both heavy, his hands holding you from not falling. This moment was one of the most intimate you had with him. Making love was something but sharing this moment with the man you loved after sex was something way better. It meant more. Sex was something you could have everywhere, but this, what you had with the Mandalorian wasn’t a fling, or just desire. It was way more, and Din Djarin knew it. You could see his brown eyes drowning into yours.
“I love you.”He pronounced between two breathings.
You smiled, and as an answer, you took his face with your hands and intertwined your lips with his.
“I love you too.”
You felt a small smile on the corner of his lips.
“Please, Din, don’t leave. Stay with me or let me go with you.”
“Y/N.”He replied, stroking one of your locks of hair and placing it behind your ear.
“Din.”
“I need you with Cara. I don’t trust Bo-Katan. Something is off. I don’t know if she’ll betray us. And you are the most qualified for this job, Y/N. I know if there’s a problem, you’ll handle it.”
“But what about you? I have seen Deathtroopers before, it’s not an easy task to kill them. Let me come with you, it’ll be easier with a Jedi.”
“I can’t let you do that. If you go with me, Cara will be alone with Bo-Katan and her friend. It’s not because Bo-katan and us have a common enemy that we are friends. She could betray us.”Mando mumbled, caressing your neck, and not daring to look at you, because he knew, if he crossed your gaze, he wouldn’t know how to say ‘no’ to you.
A single tear ran down your cheek. How could you say goodbye to the man you learnt to love? What if he died? What could you say to him? It may be your last words to him.
“What if one of us die, there?”You questioned, trying to hold back your tears.
“We won’t.”
“Please, Din. I need sincere replies. Don’t avoid the question. It’s a possibility. Have you seen our plan? There’s no chance, it’ll work and that we’ll all be alive after.”
“Never tell me the odds.”
“But what if it fails? I can’t bear the thought of losing you, or the Child.”
“Don’t you think I haven’t thought of that? The thought you could die out there, alone because of Moff Gideon is intolerable. I can’t lose you, Y/N. When I met you, you were just an annoying Jedi that talked too much and..”
“What changed?”You replied, smirking.
“You ​are still an annoying Jedi that talks too much.”Mando laughed when you tapped him on the shoulder.”But now, I’ll give my life to save you, Y/N. I’ll sacrifice everything for you if necessary. You and the Child gave me what most people lack today: purpose, and I’ll be forever thankful for that. Y/N. I want nothing more than you and me fighting Deathtroopers, but I can’t. It’s dangerous, and Cara needs you. “
You acquiesced. You knew Mando was right, and you had a bad feeling about Bo-Katan. Yes, she was a Mandalorian, and former member of the Deathwatch, but you knew, she served only her interests and especially what she thought were Mandalore’s interests. You didn’t want your Mandalorian caught up in Mandalore’s issues, and the race for the throne.
”I’ll do it.”You finally declared, obvious sadness in your voice.
“Thank you, Y/N.”
Mando embraced you. You felt your naked and warm skin against his, slowly remembering where you were and especially how bare both your skin was.
“We’ll see each other after, Y/N. I promise you when this is all over, we’ll make our own home. No matter what.”
You nodded, and without thinking, you embraced Din with your arms, pressing him hard against you.
“Come back to me, tin can.”
“I will, Jedi.”
*****
“What were you doing all this time?”Cara questioned when you finally decided to exit the little room with Mando.
You blushed subtly, and stared at the ground, flustered.
“It was strictly professional.”
Cara laughed out loud, making Bo-Katan looking at you suspiciously.
“So professional, your shirt is unbuttoned and there is a hickey on your neck. Mando isn’t as lowkey as I believed him to be after all.”She joked, hands on her hips and her gaze focused on you.
Avoiding everyone’s looks, you sighed. Hopefully, the Mandalorian walked out of the room, and suddenly all the attention was on him.
He tilted his helmet in wonder.
“What?”The bounty hunter questioned with his modulated voice.
“Apparently you had fun, huh?”Cara Dune interrogated him, with a discreet wink.
“What? I was-“
The scientist who was still in the ship glanced at the Mandalorian and declared:
“What she was trying to say is did you enjoy your time with this Jedi here? Oh, and don’t make this face, we all know what you both did there with all the noise and the banging. We aren’t deaf.”
At this precise time, you wanted to slice him. This so-called scientist was first terrified, and now, he felt confident enough to make such nasty comments.
“One more remark, and you’ll end up as mincemeat for the Tibedees.”You threatened the scientist, your lightsaber initiated and ready to kill.
“We need to focus.”Bo-Katan interrupted.”This is not a game.”
“Come on!”You cheered.”We’re gonna kick some ass!”
“It’s been years since I’ve heard someone talk like that.”Bo-Katan proclaimed, remembering the years when she was still part of the Deathwatch.
*****
You were fighting stormtroopers alongside Cara Dune. It was an easy task. You were born to fight, even if deep down, you knew the Force wasn’t something born to let the blood flow.
“Y/N?”Cara asked.”Ready?”
Quickly, you pushed aside your thoughts about the Mandalorian and the Deathtroopers, hoping the man you loved would make it alive.
“More than I’ll ever be.”
Cara nodded, before you abandoned yourself to the fight.
When you finally arrived in the control room, you searched for Moff Gideon, but when you didn’t see him anywhere in the room, you began to panic. You couldn’t breathe anymore. Where was the Child? Where was Gideon? Was Mando falling into a trap? You wanted to scream desperately, but no sound was coming out of your mouth.
“Where is Gideon?”Bo-Katan screamed.”Where is he? He is mine!”
“Well, I believe he is not here.”You replied sarcastically.
“What is he doing! He should’ve been here.”
“We need to relax, Bo-Katan. Screaming would lead nowhere. Moff Gideon isn’t here, and I know where he must be.”You sighed, praying the Universe to spare the man you loved, and the Child you adored as he was yours.
Bo-Katan was trying to calm down and Cara was talking to you, when suddenly you heard a door closing.
“What happened?”Bo-Katan interrogated, eyebrows raised in wonder.
“Mando!”You cried, relieved to see him alive.
“He brought him alive that’s what happened.”Cara declared. And now the New Republic’s gonna have to double the payment.”
“That’s not what she was talking about.”Moff Gideon said, a mischievous smile drawing on the corner of his lips.
Gideon looked at you, grinning, as if he was finally robbing you of your future, everything you dreamed of. Stolen in only a sentence.
“Why don’t you kill him now and take it?”
Bo-Katan eyed the Mandalorian, weighing her options in her head. She wanted the Darksaber more than life itself, and she was ready to kill for it.
You advanced protectively in front of the Mandalorian. If she wanted the Darksaber so badly, she would have to kill you first.
“It’s yours. The Darksaber. It belongs to you.”
Mando examined carefully the lightsaber, and then, he glanced at you, as if the answer was hiding in your eyes, well-hidden in your pupils.
“Now… It belongs to her.”The bounty hunter pronounced, giving the Darksaber to the ex-member of the DeathWatch.
“She can’t take it. It must be won in battle. In order for her to wield the Darksaber again, she would need to defeat you in combat.”
“I yield, it’s yours.”
“Oh no. It doesn’t work that way.’Moff Gideon chuckled.”The Darksaber doesn’t have power. The story does. Without that blade, she’s a pretender of the throne.”
At this moment, you wanted nothing more than to kill everyone and just flee with the Mandalorian and the Child. Where was your happy ending? Where was your “and they lived happily ever after”?
“Come on, just take it.”Mando proclaimed, the Child in his hand.
You thought nothing could have gone worst, until now. Deathtroopers were boarding on the ship. You were a Jedi, you could help kill them, but with your strong attachment to the Mandalorian and the Child, your bond with the Force was sometimes unstable, and you were terrified to end up like Anakin Skywalker. You knew you didn’t want to repeat the past mistakes of all the Jedi before you. Now that you had created your own Way, you needed to master your feelings. It was easy to break the Jedi Code, but to carve your own path into history wasn’t an easy task. When you would fight, you would need to forget about your feelings. You needed to free yourself from guilt.
“They are coming! Seal the doors!”
You heard the Deathstroopers hitting the door.
“We’re gonna be fine, Y/N.”Mando murmured at your side.
“Stay here, little guy.”You whispered to him.
“Ready to fight hand in hand?”You asked Mando.
“A Jedi and a Mandalorian? How ironic.”The bounty hunter chuckled, even if this Jedi was the best thing that had happened in his whole life.
“I sense someone.”You exclaimed.”The Force is strong in him.”
“A Jedi.”Bo-Katan cried.
And then, you saw it. The green lightsaber. You knew who it belongs to. But if he was there, it would mean only one thing. Your life would change forever.
“Be careful!”Fennec screamed.
Moff Gideon tried to shoot at Bo-katan and then, seeing you and the Child unarmed, he shot at you. The Mandalorian jumped in front of you, shielding you and the Child in the process.
“Everything alright?”Mando asked, caressing your face quickly.
You acquiesced and stood up, watching Moff Gideon trying to attempt suicide, until Cara stopped him.
Grogu watched the Jedi advancing towards the door, and whined.
“You trust him Grogu?”You interrogated, feeling a little weary.
He whined again and you knew you and Mando were taking the right decision.
“Open the doors.”
“I said, open the doors.”The Mandalorian commanded, his eyes not leaving you.
The mysterious man took off his hood and entered the room.
“Are you a Jedi?”Mando asked.
”I am.”
“Come one little one.”The stranger said to Grogu, a hand towards him.
You watched Luke Skywalker’s features. He looked alike his father so much. Staring at Luke in front of you broke your heart.
“He doesn’t want to go with you.” Mando said, and you sensed the fear in his tone of losing the Child.
“Mando.”You murmured, taking some steps towards him, and putting your hand on his shoulder in reassurance.
“He wants your permission.”
“He is strong with the Force, but talent without training is nothing.
“I will give my life to protect the Child…”The Mandalorian declared.
“And I’ll give mine too.”You added.
“But he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.”Luke answered, determined.
“Y/N.”Mando whispered, asking your permission silently.
You nodded, your eyes becoming slowly weary.
“Hey, go on. That’s who you belong with. He’s one of your kind. We’ll see you again. I promise.”
The Child cooed and you sensed in the Force a deep sadness. You didn’t know if it was yours or the Grogu’s.
The Mandalorian began to remove his heavy helmet with a determined and precise hand. He wasn’t forced to, but he felt like he needed to. No matter what.
Grogu whined, and stroked Din’s features softly, trying to memorize every single wrinkle.
“Alright, pal. Don’t be afraid.”
You caressed Grogu’s head, a small tear running on one of your cheeks.
“Hey, little guy. It is goodbye, but not adieu. We’ll see each other again. If someday you hear about a Mandalorian and a Jedi, come say hello. You’ll always have a home with us. Always.”
The Child cooed and stroked your cheek. You put him on the floor and stared at Din Djarin. His brown eyes crossed yours, and he smiled sadly. You began to intertwin your fingers with his, and instead of pulling away, he tightened his hold on your hand. You were the only thing keeping him alive now.
You heard beeping and you recognized R2-D2.
“R2, my old friend!”You exclaimed.
R2-D2 began to make circles around you and a lot of beeping.
Luke nodded at Din, and then at you gratefully.
“There’s place for another Jedi on the ship.”Luke announced seriously, staring at you.
The Mandalorian examined you carefully. He was terrified. The Child had left him, and now you would probably do the same. The only thing he wanted was to beg you to stay at his sides, but he couldn’t cage you forever.
“I am sorry, Luke, but I can’t accept. I have found a home here, and I won’t let any Code prevent me from living my Way.”
Luke Skywalker acquiesced, and you squeezed the Mandalorian’s hand harder. He was your home, now, and if he would let you, you would stay at his side forever.
“May the Force be with you.”Luke said as goodbye.
“Always.”You replied.
The Jedi turned around and began to walk towards his ship, leaving you and Din alone for a long time. And maybe forever…
“And what now?”You asked, your tears flowing on your cheeks.
“We keep on living Y/N, together.”
“I don’t know if I can, Din. What if all of this is a mistake? What if I made the wrong decision choosing my Way? What if Grogu’ll die? What about us?”
“Shhh.”
The Mandalorian embraced you with his arms and stroked your back.
“Y/N. I need to tell you something.”
“What is it?”
“Do you know I love you, right?”He put Grogu on the floor, hidden behind a table. You patted his head.
“Huh, yeah. Din, I am scared, what is it?”
He chuckled, removed his helmet and threw it on the floor. “I don’t need that, today.”
“What are you doing?”You laughed.
“Something I should have done days ago.”
The Mandalorian began to kneel before you, and he took out a small pouch from his pocket. He opened it delicately and took out a thin elegant ring.
“Y/N, would you like to marry me, an annoying and grumpy Mandalorian?”
You chuckled, and felt tears threatening to run on your face. Not because of happiness or sadness, but because of too many feelings overflooding you.
You stared at Din Djarin’s face, he was tired, dark circles lodging under his eyes, and he was waiting for your answer nervously.
“I take it as a no?”He murmured.
“Yes! Of course, I want to marry you, tin can!”
You threw yourself on his arms and held him tightly.
“You know, since the first day, I loved your grumpy tone and your groans.”You joked.”I’ll marry you, Din Djarin, only if you’ll have me, an annoying Jedi that talks too much.”
“There is nothing more I’d want than to live my whole life at your sides.”
“I love you, Din. Seriously.”
“Me too. If not, I wouldn’t ask you to marry me.”
You tapped his shoulder playfully.
He pulled away, and gently passed the ring on your finger.
“This ring was made with beskar. With the beskar of my armor. I wanted you to have a part of me, and a part of our beginning and how we met.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“We’re a clan of two now, and we don’t need Creeds or Code if we have each other.”The Mandalorian said, looking for your hand.
You leaned on, and kissed Din. The Child wasn’t here, and it wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning of your adventures with the Mandalorian.
———
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⬇️Chapter 14⬇️
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kyuus4ku · 4 years ago
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𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀
akutagawa ryunosuke
genre: minific ; angst
warnings: mild depictions of violence, profanity
word count: 3K
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You didn't remember the last thing that happened before you lost consciousness, but you were getting the nervous feeling that you were about find out soon enough.
Before you dared to open your eyes, you heard hushed voices speaking with each other in a formal manner. After a while of distinguishing one voice from the other, you concluded that it was conversation between three people.
Each of their words were enunciated clearly enough for you to hear what they were talking about.
"We need the both of you to stay with each other for a day or two. It's not safe for you two to be out in the open for a while," you recognised this voice. It sounded like your superior— no, wait, yeah. It was your superior— Chuuya Nakahara.
"We weren't even hurt that badly," this voice caused your blood to boil as your heart raced in nervousness, yet you were careful enough not to let the discomfort you felt from being in the same room as this person show on your face.
"Besides, I just got a few wounds and-"
"My subordinate almost died," Chuuya's agitated voice cut in before Akutagawa could finish his sentence, "unless you'd be a little more matured about this situation, we don't mind finding someone else for the job."
Akutagawa's stunned silence made your heart triumph.
"Now, now," this third voice never failed to numb the nerves of your fingertips every time you heard it speak, "I believe we can reach a proper negotiation..."
Dazai's words trailed off, as if he were trying to think of a careful way to pronounce his next words without striking any chords that'd provoke the situation further.
"I know you two have had a... questionable history," you could sense that Dazai said this through smiling lips, "but keep your personal affairs out of it. It's purely business. The Black Lizard will handle the perp while you recover-"
"There should be another person available for this job," Akutagawa snapped.
The silence that ensued Akutagawa's brief tantrum raised the tension in the room.
"Don't cut me off," Dazai responded coldly, "I wasn't talking about you. That wound is going to take a while to heal, so we need to ensure that the protective measures are met."
"I doubt you're the only one who doesn't like this idea," you could sense that Chuuya was referring to you, "It's just for a day or so, then you two can go back to being colleagues... or strangers... or whatever the hell you two are to each other."
He cleared his throat awkwardly.
"I expect your cooperation, Akutagawa," Dazai cooed, that icy tone still evident in his voice, "Chuuya's subordinates can be quite problematic-"
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"-but I know it'll be just fine. We'll send you out of town to a secluded house. Don't burn it down, and don't do anything naughty. Alright, so we just wait for- oh?"
You just realised the confusion that contorted your expression was more apparent than you had intended.
"Finally," you heard Chuuya sigh as he walked over to the side of the bed you were 'sleeping' on, "Wake up, nap time's over."
You opened your eyes to find both Dazai and Chuuya on either side of your bed, while Akutagawa stood at the corner of the room, arms crossed, with a look of pure distaste on his face.
"I knew you were eavesdropping," Dazai chimed playfully, "but that saves us the time to explain the current state of affairs, right?"
"But-"
"Not buts," Chuuya spoke up assertively, "you're injured pretty bad. We can't afford to lose you to some half-assed criminal. So do as we say, and it'll be over soon."
You caught a glance at Akutagawa, who looked like he was about to rip your spine out, and averted your eyes to Chuuya, eventually nodding begrudgingly.
"Can you sit up?" Chuuya asked. You wondered what could possibly make sitting up so difficult, until you found out the hard way: your abdomen was bandaged, rather tightly, and when you tried to straighten your back up, sharp bullets of pain shot through your body, making you yelp in discomfort.
"Easy, easy," Chuuya muttered as he held his hands out, offering his assistance. You dismissed him politely and after some time, you managed to sit up.
"What happened?" your mouth felt dry and your throat was parched. It felt like you hadn't spoken for weeks.
"I'll leave Akutagawa with the job of going through the details," Dazai's eyes switched from you to the grumpy boy in the corner, a smug smirk flashing across his lips, "this is going to be interesting. Two of our most capable subordinates in the same quarters... how about it, Chuuya?"
Chuuya sighed and took his coat, making his way to the door. Dazai's light steps advanced to follow behind him.
"It's nothing new... but I'm not up to the chaos they're 'capable' of brewing," Chuuya muttered, "as long as they don't kill each other. Don't do anything stupid, alright?"
He stopped and looked you in the eyes, and then shifted his gaze to Akutagawa. He nodded rigidly.
"Yes, sir," you responded to him as he made his way out. Dazai's sarcastic chuckle reached your ears before the door closed behind them.
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"Wake up," you heard the clatter of dishes by your bedside, except that you were in a different place this time: they had already transported both you and Akutagawa away from the city.
Your eyelids cracked open to reveal the dimly lit bedroom. You were hidden from the morning sun's bright rays until Akutagawa briskly unshaded the windows, making you shut your eyes again.
"Good morning to you, too," you mumbled sarcastically as you strained yourself to sit up, ignoring how the stitches across your abdomen pulled at your skin uncomfortably.
"It's 8am. It's about time you get up," he bit back, coming to your side to arrange the cutleries on the tray in preparations to serve you breakfast.
"Tell that to my physically impaired body," your eyes caught his. There was a brief glimpse of sympathy discernible in his gaze, but it was almost immediately replaced by a stoic, impassive stare, as if he suddenly recognised who he was talking to.
He then started rummaging through your bag for a fresh pair of clothes and a set of new bandages. "Take your painkillers," he demanded stiffly.
He left your clothes and bandages at the edge of your bed and made his way out of the room silently. You sighed heavily as you tried to get out of bed with sore muscles.
You barely remembered what happened a few days ago: your opponent wasn't a tough one to fight, but the battle was nothing but a blur to your memory.
Akutagawa was there. You remembered how you two locked eyes with each other, as if it were a scene captured from a pathetic love story, before you felt the sickening warmth around your midriff as blood spluttered out to stain your clothes.
The enemy's mere dagger had pierced through your skin, drawing a huge gash across your abdomen. It was quite a simple injury compared to what you were used to, but the dagger had cut in too deep for its severity to be ignored.
Basically, you could've really died, and the fact that you were in the same quarters as Akutagawa made you wish that you actually did.
Though, it was weird. You were caught off-guard. You were trained to be more careful. You knew you were more cautious than that.
It isn't like you to get injured so easily, Chuuya's voice resounded in your head, echoing eerily.
You took no notice of all the thoughts threatening to send you into a whirlwind of self-loathing conviction. You'll prove yourself another time. For now, you just needed to get through this day you never wished you had to come to.
You saw that Akutagawa had provided some miso soup and what looked like steamed fish, chopped up and arranged nicely on a plate by the bowl. You smiled as needles of nostalgia pierced your soul, but quickly brushed away anything that threatened to soften your heart and got out of bed to freshen up.
There's no way in hell I'm going to stay with this bastard all day.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" twinges of annoyance surged through your temple as you heard his voice call you from the dining room.
"Going for a walk," you replied abruptly, briefly meeting his glare but turning your back to his eyes, which seemed to pierce the back of your shirt like sharp arrowheads. You reached out to get your coat from the coat stand by the door but was startled to find his grip around your wrist.
"Let me go," you huffed sternly, trying to wriggle your hand out of his tight grasp. But he glowered at you with so much resolve, as if going out would trigger the end of the world.
"You're injured, and you want to go out? How stupid can you be?"
"Whoa... what's with the attitude? I just want to get some fresh air."
"Fresh air? Don't be fussy. You're supposed to be resting in bed."
"Oh, and since when did you give a damn, Ryuu?" your vocals seemed to freeze when you called him by his first name. Akutagawa's eyes widened slightly as pangs of reminiscence made him let go off your hand, but he quickly regained his composure and put his guard back up, only to make things worse with his words.
"I don't give a damn about you," his tone was sharp enough to sever your heartstrings, "You never really changed, haven't you?"
"Give me a break. You're going to act all self-righteous again? After all this time?" a satirical smile shielded your damaged feelings.
"Self-righteous? At least I'm not as selfish and stubborn as you!"
Your face was hot with suppressed wrath, making the temptation to slit his throat—right here, right now— all the more appealing... but why... was your wound hurting more than usual?
His voice threatened to rise in volume and in temper, while you wrapped your arm around your waist as the aggravating pain became more unmistakeable.
"Dazai specifically instructed for us to stay out of the enemy's sight-"
"This again?!" your sardonic laughs filled the air, "It has always been that way, right?"
"Is this the part where you blow this argument out of proportion?" he raised his eyebrows in expectance.
"Don't get cocky, Akutagawa! It's always been Dazai this, Dazai that-"
"You're being irrational."
"Irrational?"
You started to feel lightheaded.
"Do you have something to say?" he instigated.
"Don't make me go there, Ryuu," you snarled back.
"You have no place to call me that," he hissed.
"I do whatever the fuck I want. You wanna know why things never worked out between us?"
You could tell your stitches were not doing their job— it felt like they were somehow loosening. Maybe it was because your entire being quivered with rage uncontrollably, or the fact that you were standing longer than you should. Either way, this wasn't how you planned to spend your morning.
"Enlighten me!" this was said through gritted teeth with eyes full of fury. At this point, he was fighting against the temptation to knock you out and bring you back to bed.
"You were soooo fucking obsessed with becoming Dazai's first choice," you hesitated for a while before finishing your sentence, "that you didn't realise you had been mine all along."
His face distorted in stupefaction once you had uttered those words with such finality. He knew that you meant it, and it seemed to provoke confusion in his mind and heart, because his face was riddled with unfathomable disorientation.
"I trusted you with my life, Ryuu!" you were surprised that you could bring yourself to shout, considering how physically weak you were getting by the minute, "but you always overlooked my concern for you. You were so damn fixated on becoming the best for your superior, that you overlooked the fact that you were really the best thing that happened to me!"
"Y-you're not making sense," his cast was that of a stunned child receiving the affection of a distant parent all of the sudden.
"You're right. I don't make sense. Maybe I am blowing this out of proportion," your voice came out in a ramble of indistinct words. You looked down to prove that you were right— your wound was bleeding through your clothes, staining your shirt with blood as your vision became distorted from all the pressure built up in your head and your heart.
"You're bleeding!" Akutagawa raced forward to catch you from falling, arms handling your waist carefully so as not to tamper with your wound, which was starting to bleed profusely.
"No shit," you mutter, eyelids blinking slowly while your head spun in circles.
"Stop talking. Those damn nurses..." Akutagawa clicked his tongue as he thought of what to do.
"Apply pressure... on it... or something," you mumbled incoherently.
"Since when did you get a doctor's degree?" he laid you down on the ground gently.
"Haha... very funny," you voiced groggily.
"Shut your mouth for fuck's sake!" his hand travelled to cover your mouth lightly while his other hand fidgeted to lift your shirt, deep worry building up in his chest.
"The more you speak, the worse you'll feel. Don't strain yourself," his voice was soft, almost as he was genuinely concerned for you.
You couldn't understand why he cared so much, and you didn't even know how to accept this hint of affection.
"Thank you," were the last words he heard before you passed out.
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Your body was rested upon the rather stiff bed yet again, but your eyes danced around the room dreamily, searching for him.
Akutagawa had his head buried in his arms on the bed, next to your thighs.
You could barely move— your body felt heavy as trails of anesthetics lingered in your bloodstream. You felt a fresh set of stitches across your abdomen, except that the bandages covering them were a little looser, granting you a little bit more comfort than before.
Your fingers crawled to his head to stroke through his hair gently, making him stir slightly in his sleep. Once you saw the time— 4:43am— you realised that he had been by your side the entire time.
"Ryuu~"
As if gunshots had sounded in the very next room, his posture immediately bolted into an upright stance, as if ready to fight.
"I am awake, I am not sleeping, I was not sleeping," his words were all jumbled up and frantic, but he frowned moodily as he noticed you were laughing at him.
"About time," he yawned meekly, getting up to settle himself in his own bed, which was a short distance next to yours.
"No, no," you struggled a little to inch your body sideways on the bed to make room for him. He squinted his eyes suspiciously at you, but decided that resisting an offer like that seemed foolish at this hour. He rubbed his eyes and snuggled up next to you as you automatically pushed your back against his chest, sheets covering the both of you with warmth and safety. His chin rested on your head as his hands enveloped you from behind.
"Don't go accidentally falling in love with me again," he murmured, his deep voice making his chest vibrate slightly as you laughed scornfully.
"Says the one who confessed to me first," you earned a flick on the forehead for that.
The stillness of the night trapped the two of you in security that was so familiar, yet so unnatural at the same time. Neither of you wanted to let go of this moment, but the bitterness of knowing that such a thing wasn't possible was something you mutually wanted to ignore for now.
"This is nice," he mumbled sleepily.
"Mm..." you hummed, "back to strangers tomorrow huh?"
Strangers?
But weren't you the one that stood in between him and the enemy the other day, taking the injury that he was supposed to be dealing with right at this moment? He was the one who was supposed to be bedridden, not you. He was the one who was supposed to taste the tattered, bitter edges of death's sword, not you.
And yet he didn't dare tell you about what really happened. He didn't want you to know because he knew you cared too much for him, and that sort of care ate away at your soul, leaving behind only fragments for him to love, but never to keep.
And if you came to know of why you did what you did for him on that day, you'd throw yourself into that cycle of withering yourself away again, because loving someone and letting them go eventually is easy, but recognising the fact that you can never let go of this one person because of how much you loved them in the first place was not.
He didn't want to do that to you ever again.
Never again.
But how could he look at you through the eyes of a person who didn't know how you liked your coffee in the morning? Or how you preferred sweet foods over savoury ones? And how was he to forget the way your eyes glistened with sincerity when you told him that he was the best thing that ever happened to you?
Well, fuck.
"I supposed the tension has diffused a little," he replied, smiling slightly, "tread lightly."
"Easy, demon boy," your lips curled up into an egotistical smirk, "You're making it harder to let go."
I wish you never let go in the first place. You're a fucking idiot. I wish you stayed. What if you never left? What would've become of us... if you stuck by me through it all?
Then again, loving someone wasn't supposed to be painful. Why did you put yourself through all that pain?
Why did you go? Hell, why the fuck did you even stay in the first place?
But these were the thoughts he couldn't bring himself to utter.
He buried his face into your hair, and dozed off with you in his arms.
"Goodnight, Ryuu."
137 notes · View notes
fineillsignup · 6 years ago
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tips for choosing a Chinese name for your OC when you don’t know Chinese
This is a meta for gifset trade with @purple-fury! Maybe you would like to trade something with me? You can PM me if so!
Choosing a Chinese name, if you don’t know a Chinese language, is difficult, but here’s a secret for you: choosing a Chinese name, when you do know a Chinese language, is also difficult. So, my tip #1 is: Relax. Did you know that Actual Chinese People choose shitty names all the dang time? It’s true!!! Just as you, doubtless, have come across people in your daily life in your native language that you think “God, your parents must have been on SOME SHIT when they named you”, the same is true about Chinese people, now and throughout history. If you choose a shitty name, it’s not the end of the world! Your character’s parents now canonically suck at choosing a name. There, we fixed it!
However. Just because you should not drive yourself to the brink of the grave fretting over choosing a Chinese name for a character, neither does that mean you shouldn’t care at all. Especially, tip #2, Never just pick some syllables that vaguely sound Chinese and call it a day. That shit is awful and tbh it’s as inaccurate and racist as saying “ching chong” to mimic the Chinese language. Examples: Cho Chang from Harry Potter, Tenten from Naruto, and most notorious of all, Fu Manchu and his daughter Fah lo Suee (how the F/UCK did he come up with that one).
So where do you begin then? Well, first you need to pick your character’s surname. This is actually not too difficult, because Chinese actually doesn’t have that many surnames in common use. One hundred surnames cover over eighty percent of China’s population, and in local areas especially, certain surnames within that one hundred are absurdly common, like one out of every ten people you meet is surnamed Wang, for example. Also, if you’re making an OC for an established media franchise, you may already have the surname based on who you want your character related to. Finally, if you’re writing an ethnically Chinese character who was born and raised outside of China, you might only want their surname to be Chinese, and give them a given name from the language/culture of their native country; that’s very very common.
If you don’t have a surname in mind, check out the Wikipedia page for the list of common Chinese surnames, roughly the top one hundred. If you’re not going to pick one of the top one hundred surnames, you should have a good reason why. Now you need to choose a romanization system. You’ll note that the Wikipedia list contains variant spellings. If your character is a Chinese-American (or other non-Chinese country) whose ancestors emigrated before the 1950s (or whose ancestors did not come from mainland China), their name will not be spelled according to pinyin. It might be spelled according to Wade-Giles romanization, or according to the name’s pronunciation in other Chinese languages, or according to what the name sounds like in the language of the country they immigrated to. (The latter is where you get spellings like Lee, Young, Woo, and Law.)  A huge proportion of emigration especially came from southern China, where people spoke Cantonese, Min, Hakka, and other non-Mandarin languages.
So, for example, if you want to make a Chinese-Canadian character whose paternal source of their surname immigrated to Canada in the 20s, don’t give them the surname Xie, spelled that way, because #1 that spelling didn’t exist when their first generation ancestor left China and #2 their first generation ancestor was unlikely to have come from a part of China where Mandarin was spoken anyway (although still could have! that’s up to you). Instead, name them Tse, Tze, Sia, Chia, or Hsieh.
If you’re working with a character who lives in, or who left or is descended from people who left mainland China in the 1960s or later; or if you’re working with a historical or mythological setting, then you are going to want to use the pinyin romanization. The reason I say that you should use pinyin for historical or mythological settings is because pinyin is now the official or de facto romanization system for international standards in academia, the United Nations, etc. So if you’re writing a story with characters from ancient China, or medieval China, use pinyin, even though not only pinyin, but the Mandarin pronunciations themselves didn’t exist back then. Just... just accept this. This is one of those quirks of having a non-alphabetic language.
(Here’s an “exceptions” paragraph: there are various well known Chinese names that are typically, even now, transliterated in a non-standard way: Confucius, Mencius, the Yangtze River, Sun Yat-sen, etc. Go ahead and use these if you want. And if you really consciously want to make a Cantonese or Hakka or whatever setting, more power to you, but in that case you better be far beyond needing this tutorial and I don’t know why you’re here. Get. Scoot!)
One last point about names that use the ü with the umlaut over it. The umlaut ü is actually pretty critical for the meaning because wherever the ü appears, the consonant preceding it also can be used with u: lu/lü, nu/nü, etc. However, de facto, lots of individual people, media franchises, etc, simply drop the umlaut and write u instead when writing a name in English, such as “Lu Bu” in the Dynasty Warriors franchise in English (it should be written Lü Bu). And to be fair, since tones are also typically dropped in Latin script and are just as critical to the meaning and pronunciation of the original, dropping the umlaut probably doesn’t make much difference. This is kind of a choice you have to make for yourself. Maybe you even want to play with it! Maybe everybody thinks your character’s surname is pronounced “loo as in loo roll” but SURPRISE MOFO it’s actually lü! You could Do Something with that. Also, in contexts where people want to distinguish between u and ü when typing but don’t have easy access to a keyboard method of making the ü, the typical shorthand is the letter v. 
Alright! So you have your surname and you know how you want it spelled using the Latin alphabet. Great! What next?
Alright, so, now we get to the hard part: choosing the given name. No, don’t cry, I know baby I know. We can do this. I believe in you.
Here are some premises we’re going to be operating on, and I’m not entirely sure why I made this a numbered list:
Chinese people, generally, love their kids. (Obviously, like in every culture, there are some awful exceptions, and I’ll give one specific example of this later on.)
As part of loving their kids, they want to give them a Good name.
So what makes a name a Good name??? Well, in Chinese culture, the cultural values (which have changed over time) have tended to prioritize things like: education; clan and family; health and beauty; religious devotions of various religions (Buddhism, Taoism, folk religions, Christianity, other); philosophical beliefs (Buddhism, Confucianism, etc) (see also education); refinement and culture (see also education); moral rectitude; and of course many other things as the individual personally finds important. You’ll notice that education is a big one. If you can’t decide on where to start, something related to education, intelligence, wisdom, knowledge, etc, is a bet that can’t go wrong.
Unlike in English speaking cultures (and I’m going to limit myself to English because we’re writing English and good God look at how long this post is already), there is no canon of “names” in Chinese like there has traditionally been in English. No John, Mary, Susan, Jacob, Maxine, William, and other words that are names and only names and which, historically at least, almost everyone was named. Instead, in Chinese culture, you can basically choose any character you want. You can choose one character, or two characters. (More than two characters? No one can live at that speed. Seriously, do not give your character a given name with more than two characters. If you need this tutorial, you don’t know enough to try it.) Congratulations, it is now a name!!
But what this means is that Chinese names aggressively Mean Something in a way that most English names don’t. You know nature names like Rose and Pearl, and Puritan names like Wrestling, Makepeace, Prudence, Silence, Zeal, and Unity? I mean, yeah, you can technically look up that the name Mary comes from a etymological root meaning bitter, but Mary doesn’t mean bitter in the way that Silence means, well, silence. Chinese names are much much more like the latter, because even though there are some characters that are more common as names than as words, the meaning of the name is still far more upfront than English names.
So the meaning of the name is generally a much more direct expression of those Good Values mentioned before. But it gets more complicated!
Being too direct has, across many eras of Chinese history, been considered crude; the very opposite of the education you’re valuing in the first place. Therefore, rather than the Puritan slap you in the face approach where you just name your kid VIRTUE!, Chinese have typically favoured instead more indirect, related words about these virtues and values, or poetic allusions to same. What might seem like a very blunt, concrete name, such as Guan Yu’s “yu” (which means feather), is actually a poetic, referential name to all the things that feathers evoke: flight, freedom, intellectual broadmindness, protection...
So when you’re choosing a name, you start from the value you want to express, then see where looking up related words in a dictionary gets you until you find something that sounds “like a name”; you can also try researching Chinese art symbolism to get more concrete names. Then, here’s my favourite trick, try combining your fake name with several of the most common surnames: 王,李,陈. And Google that shit. If you find Actual Human Beings with that name: congratulations, at least if you did f/uck up, somebody else out there f/ucked up first and stuck a Human Being with it, so you’re still doing better than they are. High five!
You’re going to stick with the same romanization system (or lack thereof) as you’ve used for the surname. In the interests of time, I’m going to focus on pinyin only.
First let’s take a look at some real and actual Chinese names and talk about what they mean, why they might have been chosen, and also some fictional OC names that I’ve come up with that riff off of these actual Chinese names. And then we’ll go over some resources and also some pitfalls. Hopefully you can learn by example! Fun!!!
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Let’s start with two great historical strategists: Zhuge Liang and Zhou Yu, and the names I picked for some (fictional) sons of theirs. Then I will be talking about Sun Shangxiang and Guan Yinping, two historical-legendary women of the same era, and what I named their fictional daughters. And finally I’ll be talking about historical Chinese pirate Gan Ning and what I named his fictional wife and fictional daughter. Uh, this could be considered spoilers for my novel Clouds and Rain and associated one-shots in that universe, so you probably want to go and read that work... and its prequels... and leave lots of comments and kudos first and then come back. Don’t worry, I’ll wait.
(I’m just kidding you don’t need to know a thing about my work to find this useful.)
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ZHUGE Liang is written 諸葛亮 in traditional Chinese characters and 诸葛亮 in simplified Chinese characters. It is a two-character surname. Two character surnames used to be more common than they are now. When I read Chinese history, I notice that two character surname clans seem to have a bad habit of flying real high and then getting the Icarus treatment if Icarus when his wings melted also got beheaded and had the Nine Familial Exterminations performed on his clan. Yikes. Sooner or later that'll cost ya.
But anyway. Zhuge means “lots of kudzu”, which if you have been to the American south you know is that only way that kudzu comes. Liang means “light, shining” in the sense of daylight, moonlight, etc; and from this literal meaning also such figurative meanings as reveal or clear. (I’m going to talk about words have a primary and secondary meaning in this way because I think it’s important for understanding. It’s just like how in English, ‘run’ has many meanings, but almost of all them are derived from a primary meaning of ‘to move fast via one’s human legs’, if I can be weird for a moment. “Run” as in “home run” comes from that, “run” as in “run in your stocking” comes from that, “run” as in “that’ll run you at least $200″ comes from that. You have to get it straight which is the primary meaning, which is the one that people think of first and they way they get to the secondary meaning.)
“Light” has a similar “enlightenment” concept in Chinese as in English, so the person who chose Zhuge Liang’s name—most likely his father or grandfather—clearly valued learning.
I named my fictional son for Zhuge Liang Zhuge Jing 京. The value or direction I was coming from is that Zhuge Liang has come to the decision that he has to nurture the next generation for the benefit of the land, that he has to remain in the world in a way that he very much did not want to do when he himself was a young man. In this alternate universe, Liu Bei has formed a new Han dynasty and recaptured Luoyang, so when Zhuge Liang’s son is then born he chooses this name Jing which means literally “capital”. This concrete name is meant as an allusion to a devotion to public service and to remaining “central”. After I chose this name, I discovered that Zhuge Liang actually has a recorded grandson named Zhuge Jing with this same character.
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above, me, realizing I picked a good name
ZHOU Yu is written 周瑜 in both simplified and traditional Chinese characters.
The surname Zhou was and remains a very common Chinese surname whose original meaning was like... a really nice field. Like just the greatest f/ucking field you’ve ever seen. “Dang, that is a sweet field” said an ancient Chinese farmer, “I’m gonna make a new Chinese character to record just how great it is.” And then it came to mean things along the line of complete and thorough.
Yu means the excellence of a gemstone--its brilliance, lustre, etc, as opposed to its flaws. It is not a common word but does appear in some expressions such as 瑕不掩瑜 "a flaw does not conceal the rest of the gemstone's beauty; a defect does not mean the whole thing is bad".
Zhou Yu has gone down in history for being not only smart but also artistic and handsome. A real triple threat. And this name speaks to a family that valued art and beauty. It really does suit him.
Zhou Yu had two recorded sons but in my alternate history I gave him four. I borrowed the first one’s name from history: Xun 循, follow. Based on this name, I chose other names that I thought gave a similar sense of his values: Shou 守, guard; Wen 聞, listen. The youngest one I had born when he already knew he was dying, and things had not been going well generally; therefore I had him give him the name Shen 慎, which means “careful, cautious”.
SUN Shangxiang 孫尚香 is one of several names that history and legend give for a sister of w//arlord-king Sun Quan who was married to a rival w//arlord named Liu Bei in a marriage which, historically, uh, didn’t... didn’t go all that well. In my alternate history it goes well! You can’t stop me, I’ve already done it!
The surname Sun means “grandson” and the given name components are Shang mean “values, esteems” and Xiang “scent” which we can combine into meaning something like “precious perfume”. A lot of the recorded names for women in this era (a huge number didn’t have any names recorded, a problem in itself) seem to me to be more concrete, to contain more objects, to be more focused on affection, less focused on hopes and dreams. This makes sense for the era: you love your daughters (I HOPE) but then they get married and leave you. You don’t have long term plans for them because their long term belongs to another clan.
I gave her daughter by Liu Bei the name Liu Yitao 劉義桃. Yi 義 meaning righteousness, rectitude and 桃 meaning... peach. Okay, okay, I know "righteous peach" sounds damn funny in English, but the legendary oath in the peach garden, the "oath of brotherhood" is called in Chinese 結義 "tying righteousness" and the peach garden is, uh, a peach garden. I also give her the cutesy nickname Taotao 桃桃 which you could compare to “Peaches” or “Peachy”. Reduplication of a character in a two-character name is a classic nickname strategy in Chinese.
GUAN Yinping 關銀屏/关银屏 is a “made up” (scare quotes because old legends have their own kind of validity, fight me) name for a historical daughter of Guan Yu. Guan means “to close (a door)”. Yin means “silver” and ping means “a screen, to hide” and according to the legend, her father’s oath brother Zhang Fei named her after a silver treasure. So here again we see a name for a woman that completely lacks the kind of aspirations we see in male names. Who would have an aspiration for a daughter?
My fictional characters, that’s who. I named her daughter Lu Ruofeng 陸若鳳/陆若凤, Ruo (like the) Feng (phoenix), based on a quote from a Confucian text about what one should try to be during both times of chaos and times of good government. I portray her father as a devoted Confucian scholar, so that was another factor for why I looked to Confucian texts for a source of a name.
Modern parents also now have big dreams for their daughters :’) and so modern girls receive names that are far more similar to how boys are named. 
GAN Ning 甘寧/甘宁 is a great example of a person whose name does not suit him. Gan 甘 depicts a tongue and means “sweet”, and Ning 寧 which shows a bowl and table and heart beneath a roof means “peaceful”. Which, it would be hard to come up with a name for this guy, a ruthless pirate turned extremely effective general:
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that is less suitable than essentially being named “Sweet Peace”.
And when he was an adult, his style name—a name that Chinese men used to be given when they turned 20 (ie became adults) by East Asian reckoning—indeed reflects that. Choosing your own style name was widely considered to be crass. I absolutely think that Gan Ning chose his own style name; he was that kind of a guy. And the name he chose! Xingba 興霸/兴霸! I’ve never seen another style name like it. It means, basically, “thriving dominator”! Brand new official adult Gan Ning treats his style name like he’s picking his Xbox gamer tag and he picks BadassBoss69_420, that’s what this style name is like to me. Except, you know, he had almost certainly killed many hundreds of people by the time he was nineteen, so, uh, it wouldn’t be a wise idea to make fun of his name to his face.
In my fictional version of his life, he married a woman whose father was the exception to the “parents love their children” rule and who named his daughter Pandi 盼第 “expecting a younger brother”, which is a classic “daughters ain’t shit, I want a son” name. Real and actual Chinese women have been given this shitty name and ones like it.
Because Gan Ning had an ironically placid name, I also gave his daughter the placid single character name Wan 婉, which means “gentle, restrained”, as a foil to her wild personality.
So there are a bunch of examples of some historical characters and some OCs and how I chose their names. “But wait, all that was really cool, but how can I do that? You can read Chinese, I can’t!”
I originally had a bunch of links here to dictionaries and resources but Tumblr :) wouldn’t let the post show up in tag search with all the links :) :) :) so you need to check the reblogs of this post to see my own reblog; that reblog has all the links. I’M SORRY ABOUT THIS. Here are a list of the sites without the links if you want to Google them yourself.
MDBG  - an open source dictionary - start here
Wiktionary -  don’t knock it til you try it
iCIBA (they recently changed their user interface and it’s much less English-speaker friendly now but it’s still a great dictionary)
Pleco (an iOS app, maybe also Android???) contains same open source dictionary as MDBG and also its own proprietary dictionary
Chinese Etymology at hanziyuan dot net
You search some English keywords from the value you want, and then you see what kind of characters you get. You should take the character and then reverse search, making sure that it doesn’t have negative words/meanings, and similar. Look into the etymology and see if it has any thematic elements that appeal to what you’re doing with the character--eg a fire radical for a character with fire powers.
And then, like I mention before, when you have got a couple characters and you think “I think this could be a good name”, you go to Google, you take a very common surname, you append your chosen name—don’t forget to use quotation marks—and you see what happens. Did you get some results? Even better, did you get lots of results? Then you’re probably safe! No results does not necessarily mean your name won’t work, but you should probably run it by an Actual Chinese Native Speaker at that point to check. Also, remember, as I said at the beginning, sometimes people have weird names. If you consciously decide “you know what, I think this character’s parents would choose a weird name”, then own that.
THINGS YOU SHOULD PROBABLY IGNORE!
Starting in relatively recent history (not really a big thing until Song dynasty) and continuing, moreso outside of mainland China, to the modern day, there is something called a generation name component to a name. This means that of a name’s two characters, one of the characters is shared with every other paternal line relative of that person’s generation; historically, usually only boys get a generation name and girls don’t. (Chinese history, banging on pots and pans: DAUGHTERS AIN’T SHIT AND DON’T FORGET IT!) “Generation” here means everyone who is equidistant descendant from some past ancestor, not necessarily that they are exactly the same age. For example, all of ancestor’s X’s sons share the character 一 in their names, his grandsons all have the character 二,great-grandsons 三, great-great-grandsons 四 (I just used numbers because I’m lazy). By the time you get to great-great-grandson, you might have some that are forty years old and some that are babies (because of how old their fathers were when they were conceived), but they are still the same generation.
In some clans, this tradition goes so far as to have something called a name poem, where the generations cycle, character by character, through a poem that was specifically written for this purpose and which is generally about how their clan is super rad.
If you want to riff off of this idea and have siblings or paternal cousins share a character in their names, ok, but it genuinely isn’t necessary. Anyone with a single character name obviously doesn’t have one of these generation names, and by no means does every person with a two character name (especially female) have a generation name. If you’re doing an OC for an ancient Chinese setting (certainly anything before the year about 500), you shouldn’t use these generation names because it wasn’t a thing. Also, in a modern setting, even if such a generation name or name poem exists, it’s not like there is any legal requirement to use it (though there may be family pressure to do so).
As a further complication, some parents do the shared character thing among their children without it actually being a generation name per se because it isn’t shared by any cousins. Or, they have all their children (or all their children of the same gender) share a radical, which is a meaning component in a Chinese character.
If someone does have one of these shared character names, then their nickname will never come from that shared character; either they will be called by the full name or by some name riffing off of the character that is not shared. For example, I knew a pair of sisters called Yuru and Yufei with the same first character; the first sister went by her English name in daily life (even when speaking Chinese) while the second sister was called Feifei.
tl;dr If you don’t already know Chinese, consider generation names an extra complication for masochists only. Definitely not required for modern characters.
Fortune telling is another thing that I think you should either ignore or wildly make up. Do you know what ordinary Chinese people who want to choose a lucky name for their child do? They hire someone to work it out. This is not some DIY shit even if you are deeply immured in the culture. There are considerations of the number of strokes, the radicals, the birth date, the birth hour. You’re the god of your fictional universe, so go ahead and unilaterally declare that your desired names are lucky or unlucky as suits the story if you want to.
MILK NAMES
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In modern times, babies get named right away, if for no other reason that the government requires it everywhere in the world for record keeping purposes.
However, in traditional times, Chinese people did not give babies a permanent name right away, instead waiting until a certain period of time had passed (3 months/100 days is a classic).
What do you call the baby in the meantime? A milk name 乳名, which your (close, older than you) family may or may not keep on using for you until such time as you die, just so that you remember that you used to be a funny looking little raisin that peed on people.
This kind of name is almost always very humble, sometimes to the point of being outright insulting. This is because to use any name on your baby that implies you might actually like the little thing is tempting Bad News. Possible exception: sometimes a baby would receive a milk name that dedicated it to some deity. In this case, I guess you’re hoping that deity will be flattered enough to take on the job of shooing away all the other spirits and things that might be otherwise attracted to this Delicious Fresh Baby.
Because milk names were only used by one’s (older) family and very close family friends of one’s parents/grandparents, most people’s milk names are not recorded or known, with some notable exceptions. Liu Shan, the son of Liu Bei, who as a baby was rescued by Zhao Yun during the Shu forces retreat from Changban. Perhaps because his big debut in history/legend was as a baby, he is well-known for his milk name A-Dou 阿斗, which means, essentially, Dipper.
If you’re writing a story, you really only need to worry about a milk name for your character if it’s a historical (or pseudohistorical) setting, and even then only if the character either makes an appearance as a small infant or you consciously decide to have them interact with characters who knew them well as a small child and choose to continue using the milk name. Not all parents, etc who could use the milk name with a youth or an adult actually did so.
Here are some milk names I’ve come up with in my fiction: Little Mouse/Xiaoshu 小鼠 for a girl, Tadpole/Kedou 蝌蚪 for a boy, and Shouty/A-Yao 阿吆 for a boy. In the first two cases the babies were both smol and quiet (as babies go). The last one neither small nor quiet, ahahaha. 蔷蔷 Qiangqiang, which is a pretty enough name meaning “wild rose” (duplication to make it lighter), except the baby is a boy, so this is the typical idea that making a boy feminine makes him worth less, which, yikes, but also, historically accurate. Also Xiaohei 小��� “Blackie” for a work that I will probably never publish because I don’t ever see myself finishing it. I might recycle it to use on another story.
 Here are some more milk names I came up with off the cuff for a friend that wanted an insulting milk name. They ended up not using any of these, so feel free to use, no credit necessary. Rongzi 冗子 “Unwanted Child”; Xiaochou 小丑 “Little Ugly”; A-Xu 阿虛 “Empty”; Pangzhu 胖豬 “Fat Pig”;  Shasha 傻傻 “Dummy”.
PITFALLS!
Chinese has a lot of homophones. Like, so many, you cannot even believe. That means the potential for puns, double meanings, etc, is off the charts. And this can be bad, real real bad, when it comes to names. It is way too easy to pick a name and think to yourself “wow, this name is great” and then realize later that the name sounds exactly the same as “cat shit” or something even worse.
Some Chinese families live the name choosing life on hard mode because their surname is itself a homonym that can make almost any name sound bad. I’m speaking of course of the poor Wus and Bus of the world. You see Wu may have innocuous and pleasant surnames associated with it, but it also means “without, un-”. (Bu is similar, sounds like “no, not”.) Suddenly, any pleasant name you give your kid, your kid is NOT that thing.
This means picking a name that is pleasant in itself yet also somehow also pleasant when combined with Wu. So you might pick a character with a sound like Ting, Xian, Hui, or Liang - unstopping, unlimited, no regrets, immeasurable. A positive negative name, a kind of paradox. Like I said, this is naming on hard mode.
If you are naming an ancient character, I am going to say in my opinion you should ignore all considerations of sound, because reconstruction of ancient Chinese pronunciations is on some other, other level of pedantic and you just don’t need to do that to yourself.
For modern characters, however, an attractive name, in general, should be a mix of tones and a mix of sounds. As a non-Chinese speaker, basically this means especially if you go for a two character given name, having all three characters start with the same sound, or end with the same sound, can sound kind of tongue twistery and thus silly/stupid. That doesn’t mean that such names never exist, and can in some cases even sound good (or at least memorable), but how likely is it that you’ve found the exception? Not very. (Two out of three having repetition isn’t bad. It’s three out of three you have to be careful of. Something like Wang Fang or Zhou Pengpeng is probably fine; it’s something over the top like Guan Guangguo or Li Lili you want to avoid.)
Just like the West (sigh), in the modern Sinosphere it is widely acceptable for girls to have masculine names but totally unacceptable for boys to have feminine names. If you see the radical 女 which means woman, don’t choose that character for a boy, at least if you’re trying to be realistic. Now Chinese ideas of masculinity doesn’t have the same boundaries as Western ideas, but if you want to play around in those boundaries, you gotta do that research on your own; you’ve left what I can teach you in this already entirely too long tutorial.
Don’t name a character after someone else in story, or after a famous person. In some/many Western cultures, and actually in some Eastern cultures too (Japan is basically fine with this, for example), naming a baby the same name as someone else (a relative, a saint, a famous person, etc), is a respected and popular way to honour that person.
But not in Chinese culture, not now, not a thousand years ago, not two thousand years ago. (Disclaimer: I bet there is some weird rare exception that, eventually, somebody will “gotcha” me with. I am prepared to be amazed and delighted when this occurs.)
Part of this is because of a fundamentally different idea in Chinese culture vs many other cultures about what is valuing vs disrespecting with regard to personal names. The highest respect paid in Chinese history to a category of personal names is to the emperor, and what would happen there is that it would be under name taboo, a very serious and onerous custom where you not only have to not say the emperor’s name, but you can’t say anything that sounds the same as the emperor’s name.
Did I mention that this is in the language of CRAZY GO NUTS numbers of homonyms? The day-to-day troubles caused by observing name taboo were so potentially intense that there are even instances where, before ascending to the imperial throne, the emperor-to-be would change his name to something that was easier to observe taboo about!
So you see this is an attitude that says: if you want to honour and show respect to somebody, you don’t speak their name.
As the highest person in the land, only the emperor gets this extreme level of avoidance, but it trickles down all through society. You can’t use the personal names of people superior to you. Naming a baby after someone inherently throws the hierarchy out of whack. Now you have a young baby with the same name as a grown adult, or even a dead person, who is due honour from their rank in life. People who would not be permitted to use the inspiration’s name may now use that name because they are superior to the baby who received the name! This would mean that hierarchy was not being preserved, and oh my heaven, is there anything worse than hierarchy not being preserved? All of Chinese History: Noooooo!
Now. As an author—and I hope to God no one is using my Chinese name guide as a resource to name an actual human baby because I can’t take that kind of pressure—you can use the names of characters to inspire the names of other characters, in the following way.
Remember that I said that the key, the starting point, to naming someone in Chinese is to start from a value. Okay. So what you do, if as the author you want to draw a thematic connection between two fictional characters, is take the Inspiration character’s name, think about what the value is that caused that name to be chosen, and then go from that value to choose the New Character’s name.
If you’ll recall what I said about Gan Ning and his baby Wan, this is exactly the approach I took. Gan Ning had a placid single character name that belied his violent and outrageous personality; I chose a placid single character name for his similarly wild daughter to make them thematically similar. As an author, I named his baby after him. But within the context of the story, she was not named after him. Does the distinction make sense?
Values also run in families for obvious reasons. It’s very common to look at a family tree and see lots of names that follow a kind of theme and give you a sense that, eg, this family is rather low class and uneducated; this family is very erudite but a bit too fussy about it; this family is really big on Confucianism. So yes, as an author, looking to other characters for inspiration is not a bad idea.
Remember, a lot of times, as an author, you can and even should kick realism to the curb sometimes. If you want to make some Ominous Foreshadowing that Character A’s name is something to do with fire but! They name their child something to do with water and therefore they are destined to clash with their own offspring, gasp, you can do that kind of thing because you are the god of your universe. Relish your power.
Do you have any more questions? Feel free to send a PM or an ask. I hope this was helpful! Go forth and name your Chinese OCs with slightly more confidence!
Edit 22 April 2019: I added some more sections (fortune telling, Milk Names, and taboo on naming after people). I also need to overhaul the entirety of the previous to emphasize that even thought I thoughtlessly used “Chinese” as if it was synonymous with “Han”, there are non-Han Chinese and they can have very different naming customs. Mea culpa.
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jamestrmtx · 3 years ago
Text
Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]
[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]
Chapter Twenty One | It's Showtime! (Part 3 of 3 | His POV)
[First] | [Previous] | [Next]
"Should I… Should I give up Frisk's custody?"
"What?"
Having that be the first thing the human asks when arriving at the Judgment Hall surprises him the right amount to make that 'what' come off as a shout. It resonates throughout the echoey room, giving rise to the noise and causing them to flinch and stop walking. At that, Sans sighs and excuses himself; strain arrives in his voice as he corrects himself with, "Why do you think that? Isn't the kid happy with you?"
They avoid his irises and stare at the newly laid-out benches around, these a product of the changes being made to the Underground, and ones they suggest sitting on while they talk. It's obvious they're stalling for time, so he doesn't speak and only follows them there. One glance at the bitter look in their eyes and the sheer uncertainty of their frown makes him stay that way -- waiting for them to act first. Not even the bright light that seeps into the room is enough to shake them out of their distant gaze. Their steps are soft and slow, barely causing an echo as they walk, vastly different from his own set of footsteps. Being any more cautious and quiet would mean they would disappear out of the room entirely. Were he not walking along with them, their presence would be hard to distinguish from the vast emptiness of the place. Even the benches don't suffice to fill out the space surrounding the Hall.
"I'm not sure anymore," they finally reply, tone as icy as their choice of words. He sits next to them and lays a hand over their knee, one he squeezes tight as a way of comforting them. "Toriel seems like someone better fit for that role, so if she holds the same feelings she had about adopting Frisk as she did the first time, then maybe… That's all for the best?" Their voice trembles, though they continue with, "What do you think, Sans?"
The monster pulls his hand back and lets their question simmer in his thoughts for a while.
"Do ya really wanna know?" he asks, meeting their gaze.
"...Yes." Their reply is as weak as the light in their eyes.
Again, Sans gives himself some time to think, needing that more than ever now that they hold him up to such a delicate question. He doesn't want to sugarcoat anything, but -- similarly -- he doesn't want to hurt them further than they already appear to be. A happy medium would be the best choice, though he doesn't know what that is, exactly. Truthfully, he was growing biased whenever it came to talking about them; he was besotted, no doubt, and -- if matters kept on this way -- he had to scold himself for letting his feelings conflict with his job. Seeing them blue was the last thing he wanted, but some things are easier said than done. If they required an honest answer, he had to deliver it. Masking faults wouldn't do any good, in the long run.
"I think you're a pretty wonderful parent. It's the overthinking and overprotective part that you've gotta work more on. Other than that, then you should take that promise you made seriously, so that you can improve and find more strength to avoid those doubts." His hands make their way to their waist as he brings them closer to him. He then sits them on his lap, smiles, and leans in, looking up with that same, yearning visage afterwards. "...And someone easy to love, despite that stuff." His desire to kiss them grows stronger by the second, yet he's aware it's best not to try that currently -- not now, of all times. The human was still healing; his wants could wait for their needs. "I like being around you -- with you. And while I know Tori's a good mother, you're a good parent, too. You deserve to keep being Frisk's parent, just as they deserve having a parent like you."
By all means, this has to be the riskiest move he's pulled so far, and with awful timing, too. He overlooked plenty of factors before placing them on his lap, and -- now -- he's beginning to consider if that's the best thing he could've done. Their hands have difficulty finding a safe area to land on without making him tense up, and the same goes for their sitting position, this one just as stiff as they try to get comfortable without doing the opposite to him. Still, they stay firm in place and smile back, something that doesn't last long when they say, "I've made too many mistakes, and I've... I've bothered way too many people. I can't even feel mad about arguing with Brenda without then feeling guilty seconds later, k- knowing she did so much to pull me out of that bog. I don't deserve to be forgiven." Their hands press against his chest and grab tight onto his shirt, squeezing at the fabric to tug him closer against them. "It's not right."
The monster tries to catch another look at them, though the human refuses by looking down, gaze cast on their lap. "That's on the people you've hurt. You don't get to decide whether you deserve their forgiveness. Or do ya?"
Their hold on him roughens. "Of course not."
"Then why think that? What makes you think Frisk doesn't like you -- or Brenda? Or pretty much... anyone else?"
Sans gets even closer, leading them to press a hand against his shoulder in a weak attempt at gaining that space back.
They look at him afterwards, eyes focused on his teeth. "Do you want to ki-"
He does that before they can even finish with their sentence.
The reminder he's yet to adjust to physical contact dawns on him when he kisses them.
His pulse skyrockets, and it's a challenge not to grow dizzy by his own actions. His hands lay awkwardly on their lap, but he tries to explore elsewhere to prevent that, making him end up holding their lower back. The warmth and softness of their body is a grand contrast from his, something he can feel to be more pronounced when his hand strays to their waist, pudginess felt sharply against the roughness of his touch. He's lost track of how long the kiss has lasted, yet -- right as he's thinking about ending it -- they return it with twice as much fervour, tongue slipping into the space left between his parted teeth. Clumsy movements turn clumsier as he wonders what to do now that they're going beyond a quick and simple kiss, though he doesn't push them away. His soul fastens and he can hear their heartbeat with how close he is against them, the sole obstacle to keep him distanced being the reminder this is the last action he'll get for a while; if again, at all.
He shouldn't be doing this, and while his mind has that thought on repeat, he wants more.
"Doin' mouth-to-mouth again, are we?" an infamous voice comments, this one heard from close by. "Didn't know getting so touchy-feely and tongue-heavy was part of the process."
They get off his lap and stand up; their actions are immediate, even more so than his own. A guarded, almost wary look overcomes all the hard-earned calm they expressed before. Not an ounce of reluctance stays in their posture, and -- in comparison -- they appear plenty more defiant than anything else.
"You've fought all the way here, just to surrender now?"
Sans almost believes he's said that himself with how similar that voice is to his; it's rough and booming, and it arrives from the door of Asgore's old garden.
"This was all one cheap ruse, wasn't it? You never really were angry with any of the monsters, were you?" the same voice asks, his figure emerging from the door. "You've 'fought' with people like Toriel just to make yourself seem like you actually give a shit about your child, but you don't care at all." It's the same man from the bus; a small but no less weak army stands behind him, allowing him to act more confident than before. "If you did, I'm sure as hell you wouldn't be kissing a complicit in murder. You just want to hand the kid over to the first idiot you see and be done with them."
"Hey, bud," Sans says, standing up. "Watch it."
He takes a few steps forward until settling in the middle of the hall, preventing those by the door from getting any closer. "We came here for some quiet n' privacy," he then adds, zeroing his gaze on the man. "So please leave, so I can talk with 'em."
"You should watch what you say," one of the crowd says, stepping from behind the man. "Just what do you mean by 'privacy', exactly? Gonna get it on with that human? Though you were doing that just now, and you've done that before, too -- It makes no sense for you to want any 'privacy' now."
"I don't think I need to explain why me giving 'em CPR and me kissing 'em are two vastly different things." The skeleton continues to get closer, noticing the crowd's doing the same. "And I mean privacy, as in: what we need to talk about 'ere ain't none of your business," he states, gaze narrowing at the woman. "Leave us alone."
"As if we'll let you go," a different man says, joining the woman's side. "You might have (L/N) fooled with your 'feelings', but we're aware of the truth, and we refuse to let whatever this is keep going. Whatever cheap sob-story you told them to try justifying your actions won't work on us."
He glances back to the human when noticing they've grown quiet. They're still standing near the bench, though they soon face the crowd and say, "If you have a problem with that, you can talk to me directly. He has nothing to do with this." Then, they glare at the man, who remains unfazed even as they walk forward. "He's-"
Thud.
The sound follows right after he shields the human from the object hurled at them.
It rests in his hand, large, oval, and porous -- one of Asgore's heaviest garden rocks.
"Stop that."
Thud.
Three are thrown at the same time. Two Sans catches with ease, though one slips right past him and ends up hitting his company with a loud thunk. Worry over them being hurt fades when he looks to their side and sees they've caught the rock in their hand, creating a bruise in their palm -- one they hide in their pocket after shaking the pain away.
"Leave us alo-"
A crash follows before the third thud, leaving shattered glass by the opposite spot to where the man and his crew stand at. Shoes aid with not being cut by the shards as he gives his back to the crowd and inspects the source of destruction, though it's made clear the thud's come from another rock, this one the human didn't turn out successful in avoiding. Blood drips from the side of their face down to their neck, while the rock lays stained by the floor. Regardless, they say nothing and cover the wounded area with a piece of cloth they retrieve from their belongings. The cold look from before returns, but with ire and distaste -- all of that directed at the crowd rather than their own self.
"Say something," the man from the bus says, words aimed at (Y/N), who stays quiet all the while. "The hell's wrong with you?"
"Ditto." they state, lips straight and eyes dull. "You have no business being here. This is-"
"Then your Halloween-edition boyfriend has no business living up there, either."
"That's not what I meant." They approach the monster's side and stay close to him. "This place is dangerous. The walls are cracking, the ceilings are crumbling, and the floors are giving in. The only reason why the Underground isn't available to you is 'cuz it's being made a safer place for you to be in."
"Then why are you here, of all people?"
"I'm here to learn the truth before I decide what to do with Frisk's custody."
Sans tries to stay one step ahead of them, remaining wary over any other attacks. The man glares at him, though the greater part of his attention resides on (Y/N). Still, he nods at one of his companions to keep an eye on him, reminding the monster he hasn't yet forgotten about him.
"So why did you ask about giving up their custody?"
"Because I know I'm not adept enough to raise them with my current state of health. They deserve better."
Anger strikes in the man's eyes. He clasps his hands into fists and clenches his jaw. What keeps him from getting any closer is seeing Sans do the same.
"So you call Toriel better?" the man questions, words spat.
Something unknown ignites in the skeleton's soul, and while he assumes it's because two people he thought fondly of were being spoken ill of, the strength of that feeling makes him believe there's more to it than that.
"Asks the man who threw a rock at (Y/N)," he intervenes, against biting back his tongue.
Sans takes their hand and helps them sit back down on the bench, though he keeps an iris on the crowd and a thick shield around the human.
When finished, he stares back at the man and adds, "You have a minute to wrap things up and leave this place -- before I call for backup."
"Can't fight us alone, skelly?"
"I don't intend to."
He holds the human up in his arms and takes them to the first location he thinks of, all while ignoring those who try to challenge him as he teleports them out of the Judgment Hall.
• • •
"Are you and (L/N) safe? Please give them my deepest apologies. Truth be told, it has been rather difficult to communicate more often, now that my... jail sentence has doubled."
He rests his back against the wall, slumps, and closes his eye sockets for a moment.
"I'm fine," Sans replies, toying with the strings of his jacket. "They got hit by a rock, but other than that…" He glances at his bed, where they lay at as they hold an ice pack to their wound. They give him a quick thumbs-up, allowing him to continue with, "They're okay."
Asgore breathes out a sigh in what he can only assume to be relief. "Be sure to mention my name, if they ever require medical care."
"Got it. See ya later, old man."
"Farewell, Sans."
He sets his phone down and stares at it, gaze blank as he contemplates the situation.
(Y/N)'s question clings to his mind no matter how much he tries to convince himself they're fine.
If someone so devoted to their role as a parent had a thought as wild as that one, then what was keeping them from holding themself back?
What was keeping them from giving up the one thing they found a purpose in?
And if they hadn't brought it up, what would happen then?
"What did he-" The human interrupts themself with an 'ow' when they try to stand up. "What did he say?"
The monster sits next to them by the edge of the bed and leans in, using one hand to hold their cheek while the other keeps him stable -- hovered over their body. "Don't stress about that now," he says, voice quiet. "Just relax."
They smile and keep their cheek in his hand, though theirs places itself over his as they rub their thumb against it. "Worried?"
"It's the third time you've fallen ill in less than a year." He chuckles. "What do you think?"
"I think you need to join me in bed, then." They brush his hand away and extend their arms out -- as if waiting for a hug. "C'mere, babe."
He approaches them without dither, though he's careful not to be rough as he lowers some more and embraces them. Their arms grab his waist and lay him on the little space remaining next to them. The space he lacks they make up for by bringing him close -- enough for him to hear their heartbeat, along with each breath they take. "So are you still going by that agreement letter? Or did you really just bodyguard me?"
"Bodyguard?"
"Don't judge my word choice." They grin. "I'm dizzy and tired." A curious glint reaches their gaze when pulling their attention away from him to look around his room. "You're almost done moving, aren't you? The place looks empty."
"It's better now that you're here, though."
"You never miss an opportunity to do that, don't you?"
He winks. "That's about the last thing I wanna do when I'm around you."
They roll their eyes, only to then grab him by the shoulders and pull him closer. Their breath is overwhelmingly minty, revealing they've just about chewed the entire box of gum he'd seen them take out of their bag. Thankfully, it seems to have worked to some extent, as they don't seem as weak as they did when first arriving at his room. The mint's strength is what's keeping them awake and fighting the nausea shown after escaping through the use of his magic. "Are you really fine?" they ask, smile still there; it weakens, however, and they appear to recall something, confirmed with, "A- And God, I'm sorry. You said you weren't comfortable with making out, and I doubt you mentioned anything beyond kissing on the cheek, too, right? And yet, I… I went ahead and-"
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. I did something you clearly stated you didn't like before."
Sans pokes at their nose with his index finger, gaining an annoyed huff from their part. "And that was around two whole months ago," he says, grinning. "I barely knew much about my feelings back then, but now I understand them a lil' better, and… And what I'm comfortable with, also."
They don't humour him. On the contrary, they grab his finger and soon his entire hand as they force it into a fist. "But it's still important enough for me to remind myself of it." Finally, they push it away and lour. "You don't need to do any of this." Their forehead wrinkles and their body stiffens. "I was in the wrong-"
"For asking me if I wanted to kiss you? I was the one who cut you off mid-question for that."
He stands up and helps them do the same.
"Let's calm down for a moment and think this through."
The skeleton then places his hands over their thighs and looks up at them. "I'm still figuring myself out, but one thing's for sure: I like you. Even if I don't exactly know to what extent those feelings go, what I'm willing to do, and what I'm not, I like you, and I want to explore these feelings with you." They nod and stay silent as he adds, "The one who punched me at the bar -- that friend I told you about -- they had a crush on me for a long time, but I never really was one to care much for that kinda stuff. Then there's the occasional, rare crush I had on other people, but… It was always hard for me to distinguish whether those feelings were romantic or not." He stops to assess their expression and sees intrigue in their eyes. "I was more guarded at the time, since I still had that job at the Hall, and that involved me being a hell lot more distant than I am these days. But now that I've got more freedom to live and just, well… be, I've been able to figure things out about myself -- like how much I enjoy even the thought of having you by my side."
When something cold falls on his hand, he looks up at them to see tears in their eyes.
"Were you that worried about this, puddin'?" He can't contain a laugh when he sees them shed more tears after being asked that question.
They nod and press their lips tight together, holding themself back. "I don't want to screw this up. I… I like you, too, and it feels like… like I overstepped a lot of boundaries for a minute there."
"A kiss that you asked me about first?"
"But then I returned it and did things I wasn't supposed to."
"Did you actually ever ask me if I liked it or not?"
"Well, uh… No."
Sans takes their hand and brings it against where his soul can be felt beating.
"I was, frankly... overwhelmed, but it didn't feel gross or anything like that. And I didn't feel a need to stop or tell you to, regardless." He feels his face burn, and he's sure there has to be some evidence that his face is turning red, yet he doesn't hold back. "Did you forget what we went to the Hall originally for?" His smile widens. "Or did you forget to keep yourself in mind again?"
"It was to talk about my dream from earlier."
"But you still ended up talkin' about Frisk instead. And then I sat you on my lap and kissed you." He then brings their hand to his cheekbone. "Sounds selfish when I put it that way, doesn't it?"
They don't answer and choose to hide their face away against his chest. "Maybe? I… I wanted to kiss you, too, though."
"I did it knowing that dream you had was related to me -- and in a negative way, to boot."
Their hand lets go of his cheekbone and goes to place itself close to where they rest their face at.
"So let's plan something," he adds, holding their back. "Once we're done signing Frisk up in Tori's school, and once you settle things out with your job… We go on another date like the one we had at that hotel, and from there on, we can talk about that dream for real. You'll avoid bringing up stuff that's not directly related to your situation, while I'll avoid my urge to kiss you."
They let out a laugh. "Tell me more."
Sans complies with a grin. "So if everything's sorted out better by then, we can celebrate that accomplishment by having our actual first date -- but at my new place."
"You sure want me to visit you, huh?" they ask, smiling. "Is there… Is there maybe something important you want to tell me, teddy bear?"
He chuckles, winks, and pulls them closer with an arm around their shoulders. "You've read right through me, puddin'."
[First] | [Previous] | [Next]
• • •
IMPORTANT NOTICE
**TL;DR near the end of it**
Sans's (assumed) age (mentioned in Chapter Two) will be bumped from 22 to 29 to better fit his character and overall personality, as well as to complement the passage of time in both this story and its spin-off more adequately (more on that can be found on the author note in Chapter One of said spin-off).
The Reader's/you're meant to represent someone younger who's still learning how to live life and how to overcome slips ups and screw ups. Sans being 4 years older helps portray not only his character as someone who used to engage in science better, but to make the difference in knowledge and wisdom more evident between both the reader/you and him. So basically, if you've played Stardew Valley -- for example -- he'd be around the same age as maybe Harvey, Elliot, or Shane, since they're the most... mature-seeming of the bachelor bunch. Sam and Alex come off more as late teens, while Sebastian is more accurate to describe the age I once gave Sans in this story (don't quote me 100% on this topic, though -- I married Emily in the game and I'm pretty awful when it comes to comprehending videogame lore). A more obvious reason is that Sans seems more mentally sound despite the roughness of his circumstances in the game, something that can be hard to achieve if you struggle with mental health.
**TL;DR: Sans's age has been bumped up a few years to better fit his character and the plot of both stories.**
This was something an Ao3 reader brought up recently, too, so they essentially inspired me to finally make these changes! Please, help me.
• • •
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lovely-little-bull · 4 years ago
Text
Character Bio
«« BASICS »»
« Full name »
Taura Caterina Andreas
« Meaning »
First and middle names mean "pure and innocent bull"; last name means "manly, brave, or warrior".
« Nickname »
Catie
« Reason for Nickname »
It was easier for her childhood classmates to spell and pronounce
« Age »
14 (can vary if RP takes place before/after ToA)
« Birthday »
April 27
« Gender »
Demigirl (she doesn't feel totally connected to the female gender, but she doesn't have a label for it yet)
«Sexuality »
Panromantic Asexual (also doesn't have a label yet)
« Species »
Demigod (¼ Monster)
««Appearance »»
« Height »
5'3
« Weight »
152 lbs
« Body Type/Build »
Mesomorph
« Hair Color »
Golden Brown
« Hair Style »
Wavy/Curly mix; usually loose or tied back with a thin rope
« Eye Color »
Brilliant blue, just like her father's
« Scars »
Various scars spread over body, mostly along torso and arms
« Birthmarks »
N/A
« Tattoos »
N/A
« Piercings »
Ears (Closed)
« Skin Tone »
Fair; lightly tanned
« Other Distinguishing Features »
A pair of nubby ivory horns has begun to protrude from her temples, ending about ¾ of an inch off her head
«« PERSONALITY »»
« General Personality »
Taura is very clever and shy. She comes off as a bit mysterious, preferring not to talk about herself or her past. Despite that and her tendency to keep to herself though, she desperately wants to be accepted for who she is and to feel like she belongs somewhere. She is also very understanding, and she tends to see the good in people. In fact, she'd probably be extremely loyal and kind to her friends if she had any. Still, she is capable of disliking others, usually if they’re rather mean without a good reason to be. Despite all this, Taura is not one to mess with. When she gets too upset, she goes into a blind fury, attacking anything that comes near her. She also suffers from depression and anxiety; she feels as if she is worthless and will constantly get nightmares and traumatizing flashbacks of her past. Taura rarely feels at peace and will run off when she starts getting upset, so that she can calm down and avoid losing control. She has an incredible amount of patience though, so she rarely gets to her breaking point. Given time, her strong sense of imagination will lead her to be a very creative and artistic individual.
« Typical Mood »
Apprehensive
« Triggers »
Mentions or images of car crashes or Tartarus
Unprovoked hatred/violence towards monsters or similarly misunderstood people/creatures
Violent deaths
Can also be physically triggered during a fight if someone takes things too far
« Likes »
People getting along
Things that remind her of home (certain foods, scents, surroundings, etc.)
Reflections of light and other light effects
Nature (although, not so much the sea)
Animals
Different forms of art
Hearing stories
« Dislikes »
Violence
Bullying
Being alone
Matadors
Beef, leather, etc.
Complete darkness 
Her looks (especially her horns)
« Fears »
Zeus, Poseidon, and their children
Tartarus and the possibility of ending up there
Becoming emotionally attached to people
Losing people she cares about 
Losing control of her anger
Socialization with new people
« Accent »
Greek
«« RELATIONSHIPS »»
« Father »
Apollo
« Mother »
Calantha Andreas
« Grandmother »
Damaris Andreas
« Grandfather »
Asterion (The Minotaur)
« Relationship Status »
Single
«« COMBAT »»
« Weapons »
None currently; Trained with a battleaxe and naturally talented at archery (undiscovered)
« Armor »
None currently
« Powers/Special Abilities »
Heightened senses (except for sight)
Increased strength and stamina
Ability to talk to bovine animals
Slight control over the mist
Minor healing abilities
«« BACKSTORY »»
Calantha's Story
Taura's grandmother, Damaris, was a skilled artisan and witch based in Rhodes, Greece. At the time, the Minotaur lived in some ruins near her house, and she came across him one day after he had injured himself. Seeing only the blurred figure of a distressed man, Damaris treated his wounds and found herself rather enamored with the strong, silent nature of the stranger. She made offerings to Aphrodite and Hera in order to have a successful relationship with him, and a year later, Calantha was born. She had developed her father's short temper, which got her into plenty of trouble throughout her adolescence. It didn't help that her mother was virtually blind and her father was constantly going off on his own.
When Calantha turned nine, her father was killed and sent back to Tartarus. To her and her mother, it seemed he had just disappeared. However, they got through it, and Calantha gained a new sense of maturity. She took care of her mother and learned to sew, so that she could sell clothing in her mother's shop.
In high school, Calantha was an outcast. Rumors had been spread that her father was a murderer who fled the country, which wasn't too far from the truth. People were scared of her and constantly avoided her. Even the teachers felt uneasy around her. So, as soon as she graduated, she headed to an arts college in New York. There, she reunited with her father and fell in love with a man she met at a poetry bar. That man turned out to be Apollo. They dated during her last year of college, but eventually, he had to leave.
Later that year, Calantha moved back to Greece. She was planning on bringing her mother to New York to visit her father, but she was forced to stay home when she discovered that she was pregnant. Soon, she gave birth to a beautiful baby who she named Taura Caterina, in reference to the child's astrological sign.
A few years later, Calantha was offered a job in New York. One of her friends from college had gotten into the fashion industry and wanted Calantha's help starting a new line of clothing. She decided to take the offer and moved to New York with her mother and daughter.
After visiting the Minotaur, Calantha's mother, who had been sick for quite a while, passed away. Calantha became more determined than ever to make sure her daughter had a happy childhood. She amassed a decent amount of money from all her hard work and used it to open a successful clothing boutique. For the first time in her life, everything was going perfectly. Unfortunately, that all came to an end when she lost her life in a tragic accident.
Taura's Story
Taura was born in Greece, where she was raised by her mother and grandmother. When she was a few years old, they moved to New York. Her mother had no way to contact Taura's father and let him know of her existence, but Taura was able to meet her grandfather, the Minotaur, for the first time and he grew rather fond of her. She brought out a side of him that most others didn't see. Her grandmother, receiving her final wish of having her family reunited one last time, passed away a few days later.
When she was five, Taura started being able to heal small wounds, such as cuts and scrapes. However, she found herself unable to save her mother, who died in a car crash caused by a drunk driver. She survived the crash with minor injuries and was taken in by her grandfather. Despite his brutal nature, he had a soft spot for young Taura. He taught her how to fight, and when her horns started growing in, he helped her understand her heritage. Although, she wasn't able to learn much, because a few years later, her grandfather was sent back to Tartarus after battling Percy Jackson.
Afterwards, Taura lived on her own. She was careful not to be seen by others unless she needed to go to the market for something. She always wore a hat in public and stayed away from anything that smelled dangerous. Taura also managed to learn quite a bit of English, but she's still not completely fluent.
Everything was okay until Taura found a strange archway labeled Camp Half-Blood as she was wandering around in the woods. She attempted to go through it, but was unable to, due to her monster heritage. She has since become fascinated with the archway and has returned to it every night for the past week.*
*This backstory only references everything Taura has been through up to the start of this blog and does not include events that may have happened in any threads since then. Overall, this character bio is just to get a sense of who Taura is, but I fully expect her to grow and evolve over the course of roleplaying.
Template based on:
http://aminoapps.com/p/q7z85f
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diyunho · 5 years ago
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The Joker x Reader - “What Death Tastes Like” Part 3
Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.
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Part 1      Part 2       Part 4       Part 5
You’re done sampling the food that J brought over, quite annoyed he lied about the crepes; it was probably the only reason why you opened the door for him. Or maybe it was a different motive that you don’t like to think of because… what’s the point anyway?
“Crane said he added a new ingredient to your capsules,” The Joker brings it up. “I have no idea how he was able to get Cromyxillium since it’s just in experimental phase; I suppose he has awesome connections,” your guest chews one last bite of cashew salad.
“I know, he texted me but I didn’t answer back… I’m mad at him… I’m mad at everything these days,“ you admit and The King of Gotham piles up the empty styrofoam boxes, calculating how much money Scarecrow spent on a product that might be able to improve your condition.
Y/N watches him absent minded, too preoccupied with her problems to realize The King of Gotham is attentive to her words.
“I used to help my dad develop my remedy, still nothing works and he entirely immersed himself in this ridiculous task of saving me from terminal cancer. He ignored Evelyn for weeks until she left: she understood what he was doing up to a certain level; when it became an obsession…” and you sigh, aggravated by your father’s stubbornness. “I told him he has to patch up their relationship; I don’t him to be all alone after I’m gone…” you sulk and J grabs the containers, dumping them in the trashcan near the table.
“Yeah, Crane will probably be very lonely without you…” and J stops his innuendo when he comprehends how it sounds. “On a positive note,” The Clown Prince of Crime stretches, “I’m actually here to ensure you’re ok taking the capsules containing the new ingredient. Your father asked me to and I am notorious for being this…this selfless person ready to offer my services,” J over exaggerates his ability to sympathize with your situation. “He also warned me not to try anything funny. I don’t understand why I’m not allowed to share any of my funny jokes; doesn’t make any sense,” the distorted interpretation of your parent’s threat almost prompts Y/N’s smile.
“You probably pushed for this visit, taking advantage of the fact that me and my dad had a fight, hm?” you bluntly describe the truth and J can’t defend his absurd statements because your cell phone starts ringing; you glare at the screen, debating if you should answer or not.
“Is that him?” The Joker inquires and you nod a yes while deciding to accept Scarecrow’s call.
“Hello…” you sneak out on the patio as J figures he should walk to his car in order to retrieve the duffel bag fixed in advance for his sleepover.
*****************
Your conversation lasted for about 20 minutes thus The Joker jumped in the shower lacking any type of permission from Y/N; perhaps it could be the reason for your abrupt intrusion in the cozy bathroom.
“Can I take a shower with you?” he hears your question and for once J is uncertain of his reply, yet he is not the kind of person to show reluctance no matter the context.
“It’s your place, isn’t it?” he grumbles and distinguishes your silhouette beyond the steamy glass panels quickly stripping your clothes.
The Joker continues to scrub his skin, undisturbed by your request: he simply doesn’t care if you join him or not.
“I’m using your stuff,” J announces and your arms suddenly hug him from behind.
“You can use whatever you want,” your lips kiss the dragon tattoo on his back a couple of times and he doesn’t even turn around to peek.
“I gotta wash my hair,” he mutters and you brush your lips against his shoulder, sweetly offering:
“I can wash it for you.”
“I got it!” Y/N’s demand is cut off immediately; you’re so humiliated by his lack of interest you curse the dumb choice of being so straightforward: it’s not the first time he shows zero attraction towards his daughter’s best friend.
Your arms release the embrace and The Joker reprises his important chore while hearing you fumbling with toiletry items: you are finishing off your routine at an increased speed, willing to exit out of there as soon as possible.
A few minutes of silence, then The Clown Prince of Crime finally pronounces an insolent remark:
“I hope you saw a naked man before, Y/N! I don’t wanna be accused of traumatizing you. If it really makes you feel better, you can wash my hair.”
No smarty pants attitude rendered upon him and J gazes where you stood only to notice you’re gone: after quietly tiptoeing out of the shower, Y/N took her medications and prepared for the night ahead; she plans for J to sleep in the second bedroom at the small cabin, thus she will spend the night on the couch in the living room, watching TV until she’ll doze off.
“Miss Crane,” The Joker emerges from the bathroom in a t-shirt and shorts. “Are we cuddling on that couch or do we have further arrangements?”
“Spare bedroom,” you grouchily mumble, getting comfortable under the blanket.
“I thought we’re cuddling buddies,” he pretends to be offended at your affirmation mostly since pushing the limit is encoded in his wretched DNA.
“We’re not cuddling buddies!”  
“My bad,” he grins. “I guess I was misled by your actions at the mansion.”
He has such a nerve bringing that up!
“I’m not the type of person to force myself on women,” The Joker innocently informs, “but can I watch TV with you? I’ll camp on the floor by the sofa which is my way to hint I need a bunch of soft blankets to pile up so I won’t break my back. I mean, it’s not very nice of you to deny me access on the couch; must I remind you I granted you free passage in my bed when you asked for it?”
“Are you for reals?!” an increasingly fuming Y/N shrieks slowly rolls out of her relaxing nest. “You were horrible to me and then tried to make it better just because you worried I’d tell Emma or my father! Well, rest assured: I’m not a snitch! You truly don’t have to extend your good will to such lengths on my account! It’s not necessary, ok?! You don’t have to drive here to bring my capsules, you don’t have to bring me food. You don’t have to do anything!!”
“Watch your tone!” J growls, displeased with your feisty attitude. “Do I have to remind you who barged into my privacy to take a peek at me naked?”
Your eyes are big at his derogatory insinuation: he’s playing stupid regarding the incident.
“I barged into your privacy?!” you shout, aggravated. “How can…”
“Umm…” The Joker interrupts, “…your nose is bleeding.”
You didn’t even detect the blood trickling down your skin and you touch it, confused. The King of Gotham watches you a few hesitant steps before you unexpectedly collapse to the ground. “Hey!” his voice echoes in and out. “Hey what’s wrong?... … Can you hear me?”
There’s this high pitch taking over your mind and you can barely discern bits and pieces of a conversation J is carrying with your father. You’re not even aware you’re in a moving vehicle, that’s how much you lost grip on reality.
“What’s in for me if I bring her over, huh?”
“I compensated you!!  Two Nightmare ampoules, a small fortune on the black market! Get off your fucking high horse and bring me my daughter, would you?!” an exasperated parent admonishes.
“Maybe I will stop the car and let nature follow its course,” The Joker fights back Scarecrow’s affront, yet your dad has plenty on his plate .
“If you do such a thing and she dies, I’ll hold you responsible and trust me when I say you don’t want me to hold you responsible!!!” the serious ultimatum prompts your chauffeur to take a sharp turn on Highway 68. “Am I on speaker?” Jonathan checks without given his apparent opponent a chance to rationalize his behavior.
“Yes!” J snarls, pissed at the stupid rescue mission entrusted to him.
“Y/N, hang in there! I’ll get stuff ready by the time you arrive, alright?” Scarecrow encourages his daughter, afraid of the severe consequences of the experimental drug she ingested.  
“Mmmm,” you moan in your daze, not being able to respond.
“Keep her alert; we can’t have her sink into a coma! I have to formulate an IV mixture to flush the Cromyxillium out of her system!”
“She’s completely out!” The Joker states although there’s nobody at the other end of the line anymore. “Who’s we anyway?!” he huffs and elects to give it a go regardless. “Y/N, how many kids we would have had if we were married?... … … … … I think the precise answer is at least 4, am I correct?” J blabbers on since you don’t engage in the conversation. “Great…I’ll be held liable for your demise,” he bites his lower lip, vexed things didn’t shine too bright for him; in fact, no matter how hard The Clown tries the blame it on somebody else, he dug his own hole on this one.
****************
You’re not sure how long you’ve been in the darkness, but the sharp poke in your arm makes you groan in pain.
“I’m sorry honey,” your father whispers. “We have to keep the IV for an hour, then I can take the needle out.”
“D-daddy…” you find the strength to stammer. “Am I… am I dying…?”
“No… No… I won’t let you die…” Scarecrow kisses your forehead, upset you don’t seem fine at all. “It’s my fault, I didn’t think you’ll have a reaction to Cromyxillium, not the way I bound the particles with the rest of the molecules.”
“You didn’t test it?” The Joker intervenes into a dialogue he should steer clear off.
“No, I didn’t have time to test it!” Jonathan hatefully stares at the man he wishes to strangle on the spot. “I don’t have time for anything!! Do you understand? My daughter is dying!! I’m not even that kind of doctor yet she’s breathing nevertheless due to my capability of manipulating compounds! Y/N would be 6 feet under with traditional chemotherapy, which proves I am doing a few things right!!! If Emma was sick, I’m certain you wouldn’t run your mouth like you do now!”
J wiggles in his chair, definitely about to erupt at Crane’s justified tirade.
“I’m so cold…” you utter, the ruckus adding to your general discomfort.
“That’s normal, it means the intravenous remedy is working; I’ll bring more covers,” Jonathan strolls out of the room only to gasp upon his return: J is snuggling with you, totally oblivious to your parent’s stupefied question: “What the hell are you doing??!!”
“I got off my high horse and I’m keeping her warm,” J stresses the importance of his random deed. “It’s not cheap thought! I demand…”
“You demand nothing!” Scarecrow covers you with more layers, irritated The King of Gotham has the audacity to milk out benefits in these circumstances; the latest wants to protest Jonathan’s vehement denial while not being conceded the prospect of such luxury:
“Dad…” you reach out your left hand and he sits by you, keeping the shaky fingers on his face. “Did… did you call Evelyn?” you barely blink, exhausted from the intensive treatment.
“I will…”
“You have to; I don’t want you to end up alone… She loves you… You could have more children with her… or at least one more…”
Jonathan Crane inhales, flustered his daughter is worried about him when she should worry about herself.
“I could have more kids, but don’t you know you’re irreplaceable?” he kisses your wrist and pretends to brush off the agony building up in his heart. “Don’t cry honey,” he wipes your tears, then casually shoves The Joker’s arm since is wrapped around your waist. “Your help is no longer required,” Scarecrow hints and his advice falls on deaf ears: J has important news that might switch the balance in his favor.
“I also called Emma on my way here to report about Y/N’s ordeal; she’s cutting her trip to New York short and I received strict orders to make myself useful until her arrival. Now, unless you want to deal with another pain in the ass besides your offspring, I suggest you tolerate my presence!”
Jonathan curls up in a ball on the vacant side of your bed, relieved to see you’re napping. "I didn’t feel the urge to punch someone in ages!” he sneers.
“Likewise!” The Joker barks too from behind your shoulder. “How come she passed out again?” he switches the subject and Jonathan explains without any trace of enthusiasm.
“I included a serum that promotes nice dreams in her IV bag: she’ll be in a deep sleep and envision things she likes.”
“Oh, that’s awesome. I’m sure I’ll pop up in there then,” the excited Clown Prince of Crime emphasizes to your father’s disapproval.
“I said things she likes!”
**************
10:12am
“Hello Miss Crane,” you are greeted as you narrowly open your eyes; it takes a minute to recollect from the dizziness and confusion of last night’s episode.
“Where’s my dad?” you lick your dry lips, noticing J by the windows.
“At the lab; he’s consulting with some doctors or whatnot and left me in charge,” he effortlessly forges half a truth with half a lie.
“Where’s my phone? I want to talk to him.”
“I think I left it at the cabin, I was in a hurry to get you here.”
“You drove me?...” you skeptically interrogate.
“Yeah, you don’t remember?”
“No…” you stretch while touching the band aid placed where the needle used to be. “Where’s Emma?”
“On her way back to Gotham; she called several times and tried talking to you but you were out.”
“Was I?...”
“U-hum,” J shakes his head. “I reckon she promised she’ll assist with your birthday party next week and she’s terrified you’ll kick the bucket in the meantime. She didn’t precisely articulate these sentences, but I‘m her dad: I can read in between the lines,” the proud Joker blurs out, loving the shocked look you display. “Am I invited to the celebration?”
You signal a no and he’s not discouraged by your vehement denial.
“Can I bring Mara?”
“Absolutely not!!!”
“Oh, so I’m actually invited but not her?”
He takes advantage of the speechless Y/N, setting up the stage for his own benefit:
“I can work with that,” he glares at you, gratified. “However, I can’t show at a party without a date; it’s not dignifying for a man of my social status. This leaves us with only one solution.”
“NO!” you protest because you can estimate his proposal.
“Cool, then we have a deal Miss Crane: you got yourself a date!”
“I already have a date!”
“Who?”  The Joker smirks. 
“Sam is my date for my birthday.”
“Sam as in Bane’s son?”
“Yes,” you squirm under the blankets, uneasy at the concept of having J as partner for the upcoming bash.
“Pfft,” he huffs. “That’s a huuuge load of baloney,” your own words from last night are used by the obnoxious green haired menace. “I’ll pick you up Wednesday at 3pm, ok?”
“The party is here at my house!”
“Ok, then you pick me up at 3pm.”
“I’m not picking you up!” you scoff at his nonsense.
“Damn, you’re hard to negotiate with,” The Joker scratches his chin. “Fine, I’ll bring myself here.”
You contemptuously stare at him, appalled he keeps on insisting when you declined his plan. On top of everything, the whole universe is getting the confirmation today that Jonathan Crane’s genius is frankly skipping a generation since you enunciate:
“Don’t be late!”
Also read: MASTERLIST
You can also follow me ON Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.
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perkwunos · 4 years ago
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In every assertion we may distinguish a speaker and a listener. The latter, it is true, need have only a problematical existence, as when during a shipwreck an account of the accident is sealed in a bottle and thrown upon the water. The problematical "listener" may be within the same person as the "speaker"; as when we mentally register a judgment, to be remembered later. If there be any act of judgment independent of any registry, and if it have any logical significance (which is disputable), we may say that in that case the listener becomes identical with the speaker.
The assertion consists in the furnishing of evidence by the speaker to the listener that the speaker believes something, that is, finds a certain idea to be definitively compulsory on a certain occasion. There ought, therefore, to be three parts in every assertion, a sign of the occasion of the compulsion, a sign of the enforced idea, and a sign evidential of the compulsion affecting the speaker in so far as he identifies himself with the scientific intelligence.
Because compulsion is essentially hic et nunc, the occasion of the compulsion can only be represented to the listener by compelling him to have experience of that same occasion. Hence it is requisite that there should be a kind of sign which shall act dynamically upon the hearer's attention and direct it to a special object or occasion. Such a sign I call an Index. It is true that there may, instead of a simple sign of this kind, be a precept describing how the listener is to act in order to gain the occasion of experience to which the assertion relates. But since this precept tells him how he is to act, and since acting and being acted on are one and the same, and thus action is also hic et nunc, the precept must itself employ an Index or Indices. That to which the index directs attention may be called the subject of the assertion. . .
The real world cannot be distinguished from a fictitious world by any description. It has often been disputed whether Hamlet was mad or not. This exemplifies the necessity of indicating that the real world is meant, if it be meant. Now reality is altogether dynamic, not qualitative. It consists in forcefulness. Nothing but a dynamic sign can distinguish it from fiction. It is true that no language (so far as I know) has any particular form of speech to show that the real world is spoken of. But that is not necessary, since tones and looks are sufficient to show when the speaker is in earnest. These tones and looks act dynamically upon the listener, and cause him to attend to realities. They are, therefore, the indices of the real world. Thus, there remains no class of assertions which involve no indices unless it be logical analyses and identical propositions. But the former will be misunderstood and the latter taken as nonsensical, unless they are interpreted as referring to the world of terms or concepts; and this world, like a fictitious world, requires an index to distinguish it. It is, therefore, a fact, as theory had pronounced, that one index, at least, must form a part of every assertion.
C.S. Peirce, CP 2.334-337
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