#they’re an animated statue who doesn’t sleep or eat or anything

[clover-mouse]

the grassy gnoll had me thinking about a mossy rock … mossy .. statue?

so here is a gargoyle i’ve doodled up. he’s my son

[sassyfrassboss]

Apparently Meghan goes ballistic when Archie and Lili get even the slightest mark or dirt on them that their nannies are constantly bathing them both and changing their clothes repeatedly throughout the day so that Meghan won’t go off at them AND the kids. My cousin actually used to work for them in an area without a NDA but now works for a much better family in the area with much better connections…

The kids are only allowed in a certain area of the house alone, they are not allowed to eat or drink in certain areas of the house, the dogs are not allowed in the house and any instances that either child or dog has been it is just for show and kids aren’t allowed to play with any of the dogs.

The kids follow a strict diet of everything being free - vegan, gluten-free, sugar-free, nut-free fat-free and organic foods are only to be given to them. Lollipops are sugar free and organic, Archie is said to hate them but eats them because they’re candy and fun looking. None of them get anything sticky or that can spill or melt like ice cream, that whole story about Archie in the car getting picked up was utter baloney.

At school as well Archie freaks out about getting dirty or doing anything messy. He likes getting out in the garden at home but the whole Archie and his chicken story is also baloney, it’s just Meghan wanting to compete with how outdoorsy the Wales kids are and how they have animals. Archie and Lili are only allowed to be around the chickens if it’s photo-op time. But back to Archie at school, he doesn’t like sharing and steals other kids lunch items from them because it’s something he wants and looks better than the gruel he gets from home.

Meghan is desperately wanting Archie to be known as Prince while at school but the board and heads disagreed but all of his items have HRH Prince Archie labelled on them and it’s also known that Meghan doesn’t allow him to have any friends that she hasn’t approved and won’t allow him to play with them. Archie doesn’t talk about home often though and doesn’t speak about Lili, and neither Harry or Meghan pick him up from school, it is a burly big man who chauffeurs the children and their nannies around.

Harry does spend a lot of time away from home and Meghan has a lot of parties, when this happens Archie and Lili are sent to the cottage to sleep and be. When Meghan is drunk she is combative and she is angry so staff usually lock the gates and don’t let her out the estate.

Doria is such a bitch and is literally so degrading towards everyone even Harry and the kids. She is no happy go lucky grandmother and like Meghan feels Archie and Lili should be seen and not heard and basically be perfect statues nonstop that do not misbehave or not do what they are told. The whole salt and pepper together is the tip of the iceberg as if Archie and now Lili don’t do anything exactly how Meghan wants, and Doria wants then they are punished. But it’s also staff too, a maid was fired because she didn’t clean exactly how Meghan wanted. Nannies are belittled and basically abused by Meghan and work basically 24/7 every day.

My cousin says that Meghan has got no friends in Montecito and she has become Public Enemy Number One because she won’t stop flirting with husbands, this is one of the reasons why David Foster doesn’t want anything to do with her. Meghan apparently had something going on with a Russian man who is linking them up with South Africa, interviewing Putin etc. Nacho’s wife hates her too btw, pwife as Delfina says now means puta wife.

HOT TEA ALERT

None of this really surprises me, except for the kids having to be tidy and clean because there for a while Meghan looked like a hot mess every appearance she made...

[aboxthecolourofheartache]

Rem Saverem was a real one. Imagine being like between 28 and 30 and witnessing your crewmates torture a little girl to death, unable to stop them or rescue her. She’s not human but she looks and acts like a suffering child. She dies, horrifically and incompletely (frozen, status: alive). Your crewmates aren’t done with her even when she’s in pieces, and they put her in a jar to save for later. You keep her resting place clean and leave her flowers, knowing she never once got to see the miraculous geo-dome where you grow those flowers. Her siblings(?) or aunts(?) or mothers(?) support that geo-dome, each in a jar of their own, a torture and exploitation even slower than hers. You’re giving her little bits of them, but there’s nothing on the ship that isn’t created or maintained by slavery. There is no viable alternative you can come up with that doesn’t involve an overhaul of everything currently keeping humanity alive in suspended animation without waking up everyone and having a UN-floor-style shitshow of a discussion. You’re not an ethicist or a politician or even a community leader or systems engineer. You’re a navigator with a good head on your shoulders and an unequivocal stance on torturing children: it’s the worst kind of wrong. You don’t really know enough about Plants to understand what the alternatives to their exploitation are, if there are any. You just know it’s wrong, and the complicity eats at your bones and at your sanity via your conscience. How did you ever think that this expedition was the best use of your blank ticket? What would Alex say? (He would hold you and remind you that you are one human woman, and that you protested as much as you could, made your moral stand as best you could, and pushing harder might have resulted in your enforced return to cryo-sleep until the ships reached their destination, and then who would leave the poor child flowers? Who would think of her kindly? Who would be awake instead of you now, continuing to ruin her even after death?)

Then, the universe coughs up two more Independent Plants, and you know exactly why you’re on this expedition and how to make the best possible use of your blank ticket. Never again. You name the children, you treat them like people, you love them - and you’re barely 30 and traumatized as hell and you know you’re fucking things up, but there’s no one else and you cannot allow there to be anyone else, or everything goes back to square one and the twins go to the dissection table. You hide them in plain sight. They love you. You’re happier for their company, less lonely, and you never expected to have children. (You were planning, with Alex. If those plans had worked out, you would not be here to do your flawed best for these twins.) They are so smart, and you cannot bring yourself to tell them anything about the girl who came before them. You can barely put that experience into words for yourself, much less communicate the scope of it to two children. (They are so smart, growing inhumanly fast, and they are still less than a year old. You really should have fucking tried anyway.)

They discover their sister. They’re about one year old, and they fall away from you and from each other and from hope. One-year-olds shouldn’t be actively suicidal. You feel just like you did when you dragged yourself back to your room after screaming at your crewmates decades ago. You still think it was pure cowardice that you volunteered to go back into cryo-sleep so you could wake up years later and avoid spending time with mutilators and murderers. If you checked out, chose to sleep, volunteered for a solo navigation shift, how could you blame Knives for pushing everything down and ignoring it? After your own sick depression, feeling so powerless, how could you blame Vash for wanting to be done with everything?

But they’re barely over a year old. All you really know is that dead people don’t get to make decisions for themselves, death is the end of change for a person. (Alex will always be 27, love you more than anything, and will never meet the children who have become your family.) Things don’t get better for dead people. You want so, so much for things to get better for the twins.

One of them kills you, driving everything into the ground, humanity and Plants alike, because living means change means uncertainty means fear, and he is so afraid and humanity taught him his life was cheap, so why should he value theirs? The other plays the letter but not the spirit of your hopes; he lives for other people and never for himself, internalizes your insistence on the value of life and pays flesh by the pound to preserve it. He won’t follow you into death because your purchased his life (and so many other lives) with yours (he won’t squander that), but in a way he will never forgive you for choosing to die for others, and he’ll take that anger out on himself. You save lives and you doom Plants and you doom humanity trying to save humanity and Plants from their doom. Everyone’s on a rock again, back to where it all started on an inhospitable world, just a new one. But you kept things from ending. It all could have ended.

And you were like 30 and clinging to an imperfect but determined philosophy that kept you from flinging yourself into the grave after Alex, and you weren’t a mother or an educator or a spiritual guide or even particularly suited to raise children, and you fucked these kids up irreparably, but you were all they had and you were better than anyone who would have made them into tissue samples. You tried so hard, and both twins will carry you like a millstone and like a talisman for the rest of their very, very long lives.

And you named one of them Knives. What the fuck, Rem. Knives??

[1p2p-heta-imagines]

Could you share the 1p nyo italy and romano (separately) gf headcanons if you still remember them? 👀

(I won't lie, I kept them saved for if anyone asked for them later so here they are <3)

1p Nyo N. Italy:

• It’s very likely that she confessed first, she has absolutely no filter and will flirt with anyone she even slightly likes

• Extremely affectionate almost all of the time, even in public, she loves PDA and doesn't understand a lot of people's hatred for it

• Gets them gifts literally whenever she can, she gets distracted easily when shopping and will buy them things that remind her of them almost every time

• Will try to cuddle up to them any time they’re sitting or laying down, she will fall asleep if they end up playing with her hair though

• She’ll probably steal their clothes, most things end up fitting her so she does it with pretty much everyone but they will become her main target

• Knows they can’t go on dates every single day but she wants to, she’ll settle for taking them out as much as possible

• Loves to bake so they’ll basically become her honorary taste tester, she’ll alter her recipes if they can’t eat something (e.g. milk, eggs, soy, nuts) so they don’t have to worry about missing out

• She’ll parade them around and gush about them to absolutely anyone who will listen to her

1p Nyo S. Italy:

• It’s very likely that she confessed to them while drunk and didn’t realise until the next mornning and she is very flustered

• Lives for physical affection, it’s common to see her just clinging off of them, but verbal affection leaves her flustered very quickly

• One of those people that will just bite their s/o (just like her Nyo) as a sign of affection, it’s nothing that breaks the skin or even leaves a mark, a sort of pseudo-bite, she has no idea why she does it or even why she wants to, the urge to do it is just there

• Prefers to spoon instead of cuddle, it doesn’t matter to her if she’s big or little spoon (secretly does prefer little spoon though)

• Survives almost solely off of coffee so she’ll constantly make her S/O drinks if they want something, she’s best at making hot and cold coffees though

• Will move around her collection of stuffed animals so they can sleep in her bed if they ask, and likely ends up crying if they memorise any of their names

• She lets them decide where to go on dates, she’s very indecisive so if it’s left to her then it’ll take ages but she’s open to pretty much anything they suggest, as long as it makes them happy

• Gives them little handmade things, mostly to do with her current hobby that she will likely drop within the month (little pieces of pottery, mini wood carving statues, crotched animals, etc.)

[aspen-heights-wc-rewrite]

Master Post.

Basics/goals of the rewrite

So the point of this is to fix some issues I have with the Warriors books, and also have some fun. So here’s a slightly more detailed list! Not exactly in order of importance, it’s just which order it comes to me while eating dinner.

Let’s stop the super creepy age gaps. They’ll either be changed to be a super small age gap or treated as seriously as possible for the absolute horror they are- if not removed completely.

Some timeline issues/characters disappearing or appearing in between books. Heavy step still gets to un-die though.

Deal with the ableism in ThunderClan.(I specify ThunderClan as they’re almost entirely the one guilty clan.)

GIVE THE CLANS DIFFERENT CULTURES ALREADY(like how it’s implied in the first series)

Let’s deal with the xenophobia

Deal with the sexism in Warriors

CHARACTER ARCS(OR FAILED CHARACTER ARCS) FOR ALL

Let the leaders die a lot more often and cycle through

Character. Interaction. Is. Necessary.

Hey, let’s NOT have incest.

Nursery tales stay for longer!

Rules applicable to the rewrite

They’re cats with nigh magic medicine and know how to for the most part avoid dangers that lower the average life span of stray cats so they get an average of 20 years of life, average of 30 if a leader doesn’t loose lives to anything but complications with old age(which won’t happen besides a very few cases)

All cats who believe in StarClan have a basic connection to them, but upon touching noses with the moonstone/moonpool this connection is strengthened to a point of easy communication

All the after lives are normally connected, but StarClan/TDF are weird- as in they’re not on the earth like other after lives. They’re in a different realm of existence, so for this dreams are sometimes re-routed to peer into it. Other dead cats can roam the earth for as long as they want or can ‘pass on’ and forever live in their dreams but as far as everyone else is aware they’ve ceased to exist

Cats get vaccines from 6 weeks old until 4 months old so any former kittypet who’s been around humans at that age before leaving definitely gets the vaccines, and even those who become kittypets later in life then leave get them too. For sake of funnies they don’t need the revaccination

They actually have to note the status of any invading cats/predatory animals/prey to make sure it doesn’t have rabies or anything.

They can make basic tools. They have seemingly human-level intelligence. So they can make a lot of more rudimentary stuff, and working teams can even make stuff like very basic toys. They can probably carve soft wood too. Pretty much if you can make it with your thumb taped down and small knives on your nails they can probably make it.

Each life a leader gets corresponds to a different life they have to deal with, but it’s selected based on which one is more useful in that moment. So if they’re given compassion, patience, justice, and bravery in that order but then die to a fox they go right to bravery being added in and the rest still remain. This does unfortunately cause a lot of extra problems resulting in deaths each life has an overwhelming push. So in this example there could be a flash flood with a warrior in the middle where trying to jump in would spell certain death, the leader would jump in without hesitation.

Reincarnation does not happen.

The cats can just sleep and wake up whenever as long as their duties are done. The only times they are needed to wake up at a certain time are for dawn/dusk patrols, battles, gatherings, and ceremonies.

The time line will be mostly the same

Important things to note/lore changes needed to be known

The Code of the Clan stories are actually going to be canon! Sorta. Since SkyClan was kicked out the leaders came up with new history stories to remove SkyClan and just came up with the Code of the Clans things. They’re commonly used to teach kits the warrior code and why it’s important(most cats who join the clans at apprentice age or older just get the code told to them so it doesn’t hold the same weight. This leads to more setting it aside for what’s right)

StarClan can actually be completely clear with what they’re saying, but they only are told the future by Midnight who isn’t always available and sometimes deems it begs to not get involved so they make up super vague prophecies to try and make it seem like they’re helping. Only a StarClan ‘council’ knows about this and is allowed to speak in dreams. It’s about 5 cats for each clan

Tags you’ll see

#aspen heights rewrite

Everything gets this lol

#aspen heights- design

Designs for characters and places!

#aspen heights- LORE.

From tidbits of information to plotting out 7 years of battles this is all stuff that will feature in Aspen Heights

#aspen heights

Actual project stuff! Like writing or art

#asks

Just responses to any asks i might ever get somehow

Important Posts

N/a

[revirushifaa]

Brothers feeding their infant children

Need so much fluff and cuteness now, so here have these extra cutesy and sugary HC's!

Lucifer feeding his daughter:

*This papa likes to do this task, it's just so soothing and relaxing, he often thinks. Sitting down on a couch or his bed, cradding his little daughter in one arm as the other is used to feed her a bottle of milk.

*He does it when he knows his brothers aren't around to pester him, about how cute and soft he looks with little baby Lucille.

*Lucille isn't a really loud baby, when she gets hungry all she does is whimper slightly and Lucifer knows what it means. Thankfully, since other babies often cry and it can be so troublesome and tiring.

"You're hungry? Feeding time it is."

*He prepares the bottle himself, as neatly as possible and he hums, measures up the amount of formula and water that he has to. Then puts it a few moments in the fire before sitting down and feeding Lucille gently and slowly.

*It's a pretty quiet task, Lucifer's daughter only eats as she closes her eyes and relaxes, and so Lucifer relaxes. Once Lucille's done, he cleans up any remain of milk from her mouth, and they cuddle until the baby falls asleep, Lucifer also falls asleep with his daughter, all snuggled up. (Of course sometimes he forgets to close the door and locked it, so a picture secretly is taken in silence)

Mammon feeding his son:

*Panicky Papa Mammon is panicky. Because whenever he has to feed Junior he forgets how the formula goes and takes a lot of time, which causes his baby son to start getting impatient and cries bloody murder.

"Waaaaaaaaah!!"

"Just a sec, Junior! Daddy's making your bottle, please wait just a sec!"

*Runs everywhere in the kitchen with his son in a sling around his front, makes a mess of himself there. He accomplishes nothing, and defeated has to listen to his infant son cry his little head off.

"Honestly Mammon. By now you should know how this works..."

*Either Satan or Lucifer are the ones doing the job for Mammon since he just can't seem to understand how baby formulas are done.

"Well, well, say thank you to your uncle(s) that could do your bottle better than your daddy."

*Now he can feed Junior as he stands up and gently puts the teat of the bottle in the baby boy's mouth, as he quiets down and starts eating, thanks to it. Mammon is exhausted after every feeding, someday he'll learn how to prepare baby bottles.

Leviathan feeding his daughter:

"Dada hungy."

"Are you hungry, Leviosa? Alright, a bottle will come for you. Actual status: Prepare a bottle for my daughter. And sent."

*This father honestly is a miracle that he acknowledges that he has an actual daughter, one could think that he forgets about it given how much of an otaku and gamer he is, but miraculously he remembers about little Leviosa.

*He prepares the bottle, though he adds more formula than water and the thing ends up thick, too thick for a little demoness baby to eat it.

"You can't eat this... dang it... how are baby bottles made?"

*Searches online tutorials of how to make bottles for infants and after a few trials and errors he's got it. He makes a perfect baby bottle and goes to feed his small daughter with it.

*It's either on his bean bag or his tub bed where he feeds little 'Osa. He wraps her in a blanket and puts a bib around her neck to feed her and the baby girl eats calmly. Sometimes relaxing enough to make Levi almost doze off as he's doing this. Burps his daughter after she's done eating and then plays games with her. Small baby being taught of games anime at a very young age, she's to be an otaku and gamer when she grows up.

Satan feeding his daughter:

*This is the most attentive father in the family, because he knows what babies need and what their crying means when putting careful attention to it. He's read in books, there is literally nothing that this demon doesn't know, even before getting a daughter he knew what he was doing.

*When his daughter is growing restless and whiny, it only means that she's hungry.

"Hungry are we, Sandy? Don't worry, this can be fixed."

*Just like Lucifer he prepares bottles in order, first a specific amount of water, then the formula, closing up the bottle and lastly putting it in the fire for a few minutes before he sits down in a pile of books, cradles Sandy in one arm and feeds her, though the baby girl knows how to hold the bottle herself so she eats on her own, while Satan is reading his novel.

*When done she makes a gurgling sound and Satan cleans her mouth, puts her over his shoulder and gently burps her to avoid her from getting horrible tummy aches, like it happens to babies if they're not burped on time.

*Then he reads her a story. A repeating cycle. Feeding, burping, reading. Repeat.

Asmodeus feeding his son:

*The Avatar of Lust... a father? One could think that this beautiful man wouldn't even want to get himself a child, but apparently he actually gets a son, who he loves and brags about him being the most beautiful baby in the whole Devildom. And he dresses him only in the fashionable children clothes.

*He surprisingly knows how to raise his child and tend to his needs, so his son is not only for fashion, beauty or a simple target of pictures. When little Cosmo is hungry, he lets his father know by chewing on his lipsticks.

"Ah, no, no, no Cosmo. Lipsticks are not chewing toys, you silly~"

*He immediately takes the lipsticks from his little boy and picks him up, knowing what he wants and goes to feed him. Doesn't really know how bottles work so it's always Satan who makes Cosmo's bottles.

"You should already know how to do this, Asmo."

"You know to do it better than me, so do it for me, Satan! Cosmo's hungry and I don't want him to get cranky. His skin will get ruined if he cries that much!"

*Nevertheless, Satan prepares the bottle and gives it to Asmo who thanks him and walks right into his round flowery hanging chair, sits down and feeds his child, humming him a tune. Cosmo rarely cries, the only times is if his father forgets about anything that he needs, but he's a calm baby.

"Alright, we have that tummy filled now. Let's continue making ourselves beautiful and take pictures of us, son!"

Beelzebub feeding his son:

*Whenever Berith gets hungry, he cries as that's the only way he can notify his father that he needs to be fed.

"What is it, my boy? Need something? Hungry?"

"Hungy, hungy, hungy!"

*Berith is a cute chubby baby because just like his father, he eats quite a lot and that's why he has that chubby round body that only makes him look so adorable.

"Alright, alright, let's go eat. I'm hungry too."

*There are like a hundred baby bottles already prepared when arriving at the kitchen. Beel really just prepares a lot of food for his baby and himself, so they both can just eat without waiting for much.

*Berith doesn't get full with only one bottle, he eats and eats until all the prepared bottles are all finished and he's satisfied. After all his the son of the Avatar of Gluttony. Who's to say that he wouldn't be a glutton just like his dad? Obviously he's a glutton, and if he's not fed on time he throws major temper tantrums, which won't quiet down until he has something to chew on his little mouth.

"We're full, now are we? You ate them all, son! You're just like me."

*Beel has the best eating buddy that he could ask for. Hands down.

Belphegor feeding his twin sons:

*The Avatar of Sloth raising a pair of twin sons seems like a dream, but it isn't a dream. Belphie's the father of twin son's and he actually does take good care of them, despite sleeping most of the time, but it helps since babies do sleep a lot, and so does his sons.

*They both cry in unison if they're hungry, which wakes up their father who tries to get oriented again and tend to his two babies.

"Beliel, Beleth... what is it, sons? Oh, you're both hungry. Well, let's get you fed."

*Still sleepily, Belphie picks them up in both arms and goes to get their bottles, which thankfully Beel has prepared and left in the room just for Belphie to take them and feed both Beliel and Beleth.

*Since he only have two arms and it's twins that he's holding, he had taught them to eat on their own, just like how Satan taught his daughter to do so. It's easier that way, all Belphie has to do is sit down on the rocking chair and rock with his infant twins as they eat.

*Falls asleep when they're halfway and them too. Both twins are asleep. Belphie, Beliel and Beleth work that way. In halfway to be done eating, they all fall asleep. Beel has to pick the two babies and put them in their cribs, then pick up Belphie and put him to bed.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (June 2/2021) - Self-Care and Reconciliation

Fundy tries some speedy self-care to follow Quackity’s directions of “finding himself.”

Foolish finds out about the supreme fridge and isn’t pleased. 

Antfrost seeks out Foolish, Bad and Puffy to find peace and make amends after what happened with the Egg. 

---

VOD LINKS:

Philza

Tubbo

Fundy

Foolish

Eret

Captain Puffy

Antfrost

Michaelmcchill

---

- Phil works on the basement some more

- Tubbo works on his outpost

- Tubbo comes over to the Arctic and visits Phil in his basement to “spy” on him 

- They go to Tubbo’s outpost and Tubbo asks if Phil would like to make a TNT canon with him. Phil sees Las Nevadas 

- Tubbo’s a changed person since he tried to kill Phil’s friend, and now he and Phil are on good terms!

- Tubbo and Phil start attempting to wrangle a Ghast together for the outpost

- A few days ago, Quackity told Fundy that he could have a plot of land in Las Nevadas under certain circumstances, and Fundy has a choice to join the nation or not

- When he and Quackity spoke, Quackity said that this plot of land can be his if Fundy can find himself. Fundy needs to fix what’s broken

- Living in the middle of nowhere away from other people isn’t good, so today, Fundy wants to take care of himself and become a better person

- Fundy’s snow fox is outside, but Fundy decides to let him roam for the time being

- Fundy goes outside and creates a board with signs: 

FUNDY’S PLAN TO BECOME BETTER MAN:

Healthy diet! fish, steak, vegetables, fruit, dary, grains

Take care of himself. be able to cut down tree fast

mine diamonds

be able to accept therapy say “im okay with therapy”

good friends, get 3 people to say im a friend

sleep

take care of pet :)

learn to count

- He sets up a timer to do these eight things, and once it starts, he immediately runs off to fix his diet

- Fundy fetches some cod from the sea and spots Tubbo’s outpost in the distance. Curious, he goes over -- if someone lives there, that can go towards his friend goal

- Seeing that Tubbo isn’t online, Fundy messages Phil instead. He asks if they are friends, and Phil just asks what he wants. After a lot more pressing, Phil says they are friends! Fundy is his grandson, after all

- Phil asks if Fundy is safe. Fundy is overjoyed that he cares about his safety, and counts that as two friends! Fundy says he should come by to play cards sometimes, and Phil likes the idea

- To himself, Fundy whispers: “You are a friend and you are appreciated and worth something. You are cool. You are special. You are loved.” 

He counts this as the final friend, and has now completed one goal!

- He creates a small patch of dirt and plants wheat, then goes mining for diamonds

- Fundy chops some trees and returns to his house

- On his bed, he psyches himself up and musters up the courage to say something

Fundy: “I...accept...and am okay...with...”

(he struggles to say the last word)

Fundy: “I accept and am okay with...therapy. I accept and am okay with THERAPY!”

- He then goes outside and learns to count by killing zombies

- After that, he has to go find his pet snow fox. He asks a nearby Enderman where he is

- Fundy and the Enderman go searching together

- Fundy can’t find the fox. He keeps searching around the forest, until he comes back towards his house and finally finds the fox sleeping on a nearby hill

- With all his other goals done, there is only one remaining: sleep.

- He goes to his bed, hesitates...

...and sleeps.

(This is a set up for next stream)

- Foolish returns to his summer home from Las Nevadas and finds the WAR sign, confused. He then notices the disappearance of the supreme fridge

- He reads the war note left in the chest for Ponk and is outraged. That fridge was his gift! Of all the buildings that have been built here, the fridge was the one thing he allowed

- There will be consequences, but as Foolish will be gone for a bit, he can’t do anything now. 

- Foolish begins to go through the stages of grief, mourning the fridge, before leaving a note:

---

You destroyed my fridge. It was my gift from Ponk. The one structure that was built for me on this server was destroyed. Once I go through the 5 stages of grief...I will then add on a bonus stage.......REVENGE

---

- He kills one of the L’Sandburg citizen llamas to send a message

- Foolish goes to the main area and visits Eret’s fortress, noticing the totem statue Eret made in mourning. He changes the sign to simply say “in honor of Foolish” instead

- While working on his pyramid some more at the summer home, Foolish notices Antfrost just over the hill. Ant comes over, seeking to apologize for killing Foolish

Foolish: Listen Ant. From the very start I blamed the egg. And I don’t believe the REAL Antfrost killed me. Nice to see some blue eyes as well

Ant: but we didn’t listen to your warnings, we had our chances and we betrayed you and our friends. I wouldn’t blame you if you killed me right here

- Foolish doesn’t. He tells Ant that he’s moving on. 

- Ant asks if there’s any way to make it up to him, and Foolish says he could use some help gathering sand (Antfrost finds sand tasty, but Foolish doesn’t eat sand. It has too many calories)

- The two gather sand together

Foolish: I hold nothing against you

Ant: thank you

Foolish: Honestly I think the banquet has changed me for the better

Ant: how so

Foolish: It has given me new found strength. Basically from here on out...I’ll be less timid to take action

Ant: well at least something good came out of it

Foolish: So how about you Antfrost, what’s next for the old sly cat

Ant: I need to talk to Puffy and Bad and Sam and everyone I’ve wronged

- Ant asks if Foolish has seen Puffy anywhere, whether there’s something he can give her as a peace offering. She likes llamas

- Foolish thanks Ant for his help. Ant says if Foolish needs anything, to let him know. Foolish looks forward to happier times

- Puffy comes on later and finds the book Foolish left in the chest. She reads it, but she still thinks getting rid of the fridge was better for the aesthetic, and she had to get back at Ponk

- She writes another letter, this time to Foolish, titled “To my sharkyson”:

---

Dear Foolish!

It was not my intention to make you sad or angry! I didn’t know you cared so much for the fridge as well. it was kinda ugly and it stood out so much from the rest of the builds! But I assure you I’m not allied with Bad, my whole goal behind L’llamaburg was to keep an eye on Bad so he didn’t build any further on your land or cause you more problems.

Once Bad was gone I fully intended to disband l’llamaburg and tear it down!

Sorry for any sadness I may of caused.. you don’t need a fridge though to be reminded of how Supreme you are!

---

- Ant is at the animal sanctuary. Everything’s been destroyed, but at least Floof is still alive

- He saves Asshole the fish from suffocating out of the water and puts the fish back in the aquarium

- Ant goes looking for Bad. They need to talk

- They meet at the Community House. Bad hasn’t seen Ant in a while, he hasn’t been around. Bad asks if Ant is okay, and Ant doesn’t know. He died

- Ant asks what happened. Bad says things didn’t work out according to plan. Ant remembers Quackity coming in at the Banquet...

Ant: “Bad, what did we do? I killed Foolish...”

- Bad says stuff happens and he doesn’t think anyone would blame Ant

Ant: “Bad, I killed him! What do you mean you don’t think anyone blames -- Bad, we’re monsters! Do you know what we did?”

Bad: “W-well, I try not to think about it!”

Ant: “Well you can’t just ignore -- you can’t act like we didn’t do -- Bad, I killed Foolish, we were gonna kill E-- oh my god, Eret’s on the server too.”

- Bad thinks it’s fine, Foolish will recover and Puffy killed Ant but it was one for one. Ant remembers all the horrible things he said to Puffy before he killed Foolish and asks where Bad went afterwards

- Bad had no choice but to run. He couldn’t save Ant, they were outnumbered

Ant: “...Do you not feel bad about anything? Bad, we’re...we’re mon-- we did horrible things!”

Bad: “Well I mean, yeah, you did do some horrible stuff...”

Ant: “No, YOU! You did some horrible stuff! Who pushed Skeppy into lava, Bad? Who betrayed their friends? We betrayed Sam, Bad!”

Bad: “Okay, we did some horrible stuff -- hey, no! Okay, but -- there were good reasons at the time, or we felt like there was!”

Ant: “No! No no, Bad, we let the Egg control us! No! Did the Egg give you what it promised?”

Bad: “No, ‘cause...we never completed the plan...whatever it was. Ant, I can’t remember exactly...it’s not -- look, it’s -- I don’t know...”

- Ant asks if he’s talked to Sam and Puffy yet. Bad’s trying not to think about it, but Ant says they can’t ignore this. They’re friends, they should make amends

- Ant asks if Bad’s been back down there, but Bad’s steered clear. Ant is feeling normal again

Ant: “I...Bad, do you not...We’re fucked up! We did horrible things! Our friends tried to stop us, and we didn’t listen! We didn’t do anything!”

Bad: “There’s a lot of ‘we’ going on here...”

- Bad points out Ant didn’t really say anything. Ant accuses him of blaming him

Bad: “No, I’m just saying that...if the collar fits!”

- Ant says they both did horrible things, they dragged Hannah in, Punz too and Ponk. Bad hasn’t checked up on those three since. It doesn’t seem like Bad feels bad. Ant’s been gone because he felt ashamed

- If there’s anybody that they’ve hurt the most, it’s Sam. They were the Badlands

- Bad says they were brainwashed. He knows it’s not an excuse, that they should still own up to it even if they weren’t fully to blame

- They both killed one person each. Ant accuses Bad of putting the blame on him again and says that Bad killing Skeppy was worse because they’re platonic soulmates

- Ant wants an apology for letting him die and leaving him. Bad didn’t do anything, he just watched Ant die. Bad was caught off guard. On the other hand, maybe it was a good thing that Ant died, since otherwise they would’ve killed more people

- Ant says they should own up. Bad apologizes for letting Puffy kill Ant. He should have protected Ant, not just from Puffy but from the Egg too. Ant forgives Bad and says sorry for not protecting Bad from the Egg either

- Seeing as Puffy’s online, Ant suggests they go look for her. Bad says he’ll talk to Puffy later. Ant asks about Skeppy -- Bad talked to Skeppy right after what happened, but he hasn’t seen Skeppy since. They had a bit of a confrontation

- Ant wonders if Sam will forgive them. The Badlands wouldn’t be the same without him. He leaves Bad

- Puffy comes down the Prime Path and meets Antfrost face-to-face. The two have a bit of an awkward greeting

- Puffy reminds him of what happened. He doesn’t know how to apologize, but he says sorry. For saying awful things, for killing Foolish. He doesn’t expect her to forgive him, but he apologizes for what he did

- Puffy says it wasn’t right that she killed him, even though she was acting defensively, and she apologizes as well. Ant didn’t deserve to die either, he was blinded by the Egg. She holds Bad more to blame -- Antfrost talked to him recently

- Puffy forgives Ant. She asks how Bad handled it, and Antfrost says Bad is full of guilt and is hoping he can just forget about it

- Bad hasn’t apologized to Puffy, but Ant says he’ll get around to talking to everyone. Puffy made a burner Twitter account to hate on Badboyhalo and if she doesn’t get an apology, she might have to use it

- About L’Sandburg, Ant says he was there for like five minutes, but he doesn’t know what’s been happening since

Puffy: “Ant, you have to be your own person, Ant. He always uses you as his little pet to do things for you, and you murdered a man now because of it, because of Bad.”

Bad uses Antfrost to do things. Why didn’t Bad kill Foolish himself? Why was Antfrost thrown under the bus?

- She tells Ant that he needs to stand up for himself. She had to watch so many “RIP that pussy” and “Why’d you have to kill my cat” edits, it was the worst timing

- Puffy messages Bad asking if he’s apologized to Ant. They spot Bad nearby and walk over to confront him. He’s selling arrows

- Bad says he said sorry for letting Ant die, but Ant wants an apology for Bad making him do everything. Bad says they were both just following the Egg’s orders, that Ant had a grudge against Foolish -- but Ant says he didn’t, that Bad said he had to kill people

- Bad says sorry, but the Egg just wanted it that way. They accuse him of making excuses. Bad apologizes to Antfrost for making him kill Foolish, and the two hug

- Bad and Skeppy had a disagreement after the Red Banquet, and he has to check up with him to make sure he’s okay

- Bad says sorry to Puffy for what they did while under the Egg’s influence. Puffy was told that they were turning a new leaf, letting bygones be bygones so many times that if she took a shot every time she was told that, she would get alcohol poisoning

- Bad says sorry for everything to both of them, from the bottom of his heart. Puffy accepts to be the bigger person. They’ve always been a trio, always been friends, and now that the Egg’s no longer here, she’ll let it slide

- They do a group hug

- After some chatting, Puffy accuses Bad of having a Wattpad account to write Skephalo fanfiction and they continue talking about Skeppy’s merch boxes

- Michael joins the call! They all hang out together

- Later on, Eret and Foolish join in as well! 

- A while after, they all go over to Ponk’s stairway to heaven to finally destroy it

(The build dates back to at least early July, possibly June, of 2020)

---

Upcoming events remain the same.

[embyrinitalics]

An Inconvenience

Read the previous thread here, or jump down the rabbit hole 🕳🐇

Link lays awake that night, staring restlessly at stars.

She’d left, and he can’t for the life of him figure out how he’d let it happen.

The stories don’t help him sleep. He finds Farosh’s Tail and tells himself the story of the first thunderstorm and lifegiving rains it brought with it. He finds the Mighty Boar and the story of the first hunt, but he can’t imagine ever having an appetite again, so dwelling on that seems pointless. He finds the Great River, where the first woman stepped out of the waters and made herself a companion out of clay and animal bone and bits of dragon’s claws. When she pressed her mouth to his to give him breath, he was so grateful and awed by her that he kissed her again, trying to give it back.

His chest twists and cramps, and he rolls out of the hammock and feels his way down to the water in the dark.

The lake is still, the flagstones around the shrine are empty. But he can hear Mara humming at the pool, her song echoing out of the dragon’s mouth, lending it a voice. It’s not surprising. The old priestess never sleeps. He thinks he’s been quiet as he climbs the stairway beneath its teeth and drifts down its throat towards the light of the fire she keeps flickering at the goddess’s feet, but before he can make himself known she turns around and hands him a bowl of broth.

His lips move to form a question.

“I heard you not sleeping,” she says before he can ask, and when he opens his mouth again, “I know. But you need to eat something. This will keep you strong.”

He frowns, but takes it anyway, scenting the stock and taking a sip. He knows better than to argue with her. It tastes of porgy and thistle, and just a hint of banana. Her brow is arched at him when he chances a glance in her direction again.

“Did you really think she would stay? Leave everything and everyone she knows behind, just to be with you?”

“I didn’t think she would stay,” he argues, but quickly finds he has no where to go. “I just... never thought she would leave.”

“Typical,” she chides him, smiling, and turns to lower herself into the pool. “Leading with your heart, without thought for what might be. Without fear. You are a dragon through and through.”

He drinks, just so he can’t ask the question trying to squirm its way out of his mouth. He swallows and asks it anyway. “Was that wrong of me?”

She barks a laugh, so loud he hunches his shoulders and glances warily up into the colonnade, and wades out with her palms skimming the water’s surface.

“Oh, Link. What are we going to do with you? You are what you are.”

He downs the rest of his broth, folding his legs under him to sit at the water’s edge. He doesn’t dare dip his feet in, as inviting as Mara makes it seem. He knows better, even if he is so dragonlike.

“Have you been to the spires?” he asks, planting an elbow on his knee so he can drop his jaw against his fist, and she laughs again, more a puff of air than a bark.

“No, of course not. My place is here.” The water around her hums, glows gently, as though harboring lightning. She glances curiously up at the statue, and then turns with a knowing look in her eye. “Have you even thought about what you’ll do when you find her?”

“I wasn’t—”

Mara snorts at him before he can deny it and turns back to the goddess, humming as she sways her hips. The waters glows a little brighter, just a pulse, and then it’s fading again. He doesn’t understand the communion at all; but then, it really isn’t for him to understand.

His words at the edge of the plains echo in his head instead—too loud to be memory, too distinct. Trapped in him, shoved deep in his brain when they ricocheted meaninglessly off her ears. As infuriatingly unintelligible to her as Mara’s song is to him.

You can’t leave. I have too much I want to say. Too many things I don’t have the words for!

He remembers the rise of panic in his throat, the awful clench in his stomach when he realized he had no way to tell her and that she was mere seconds from disappearing forever. How frustrating it was to know useless words like rain and bird and banana, and none of the meaningful ones he needed, like fire or breathless or love.

If you go, I’ll only follow you, he’d tried to tell her. I’d follow you anywhere.

He feels stupid for it now. How futile that had been.

“They’re not like us,” Mara says—sighing, like she’s talking into the wind. “They lean towards the other balances. Far-sighted as an owl, single-minded as a boar. It’s makes them anxious. They’ll fear you because you’re different.”

He frowns. What a strange reason to fear something.

“Are there no dragons there at all?”

“A few,” she smirks. “But none so dragonlike as you.”

He stares up at the goddess, watching impassively over the world with powerful, unseeing eyes. For the first time he feels an unpleasant twinge of doubt. Maybe they’re too different. Maybe she’ll foresee too many problems (because there’s no doubting towards which of the balances she leans). Maybe it will take too much courage to love him.

He doesn’t like feeling doubt. He’s not used to it at all.

“They’re her children too, you know,” she hums, the water around her pulsing again with submerged light. “Though as I recall they believe she came from the sky, not the waters.”

He frowns harder. “Who’s right?”

She turns to smile at him over her shoulder. “Does it matter?”

Mara goes back to her humming. All at once he feels unwelcome—perhaps because the water gets darker the longer he looks, and brighter when it’s barely in his peripheral, like the goddess is urging him away. Perhaps because she’s humming much louder than before, like she’s trying to drown him out.

He’s getting to his feet and retreating from the spring before he can draw any more conclusions.

For a moment he feels in a fog. But then, beneath the row of stone teeth, watching an icy moon begin its slow descent, the old priestess’s words snap together like puzzle pieces, and the doubt melts from the heat sparking off them.

You are what you are.

He doesn’t know if she meant to chide him or encourage him, but either way, if a dragon is what he is, why does he pretend to be anything else?

He climbs back into the colonnade to gather a few necessities and heads out into the plains with the morning light.

[dp-marvel94]

Dan Redemption with a twist

So I'm still geeking out over my ask that @stillebesat answered a few days ago, the one where about an upcoming fic. I've been playing around with a really similar idea, with a redeemed Dan fusing with a clone of Danny, for months now.

Here's my idea:

First of all, my preferred version of Dan is basically Danny but evil. He less fused with Plasmius and more consumed his powers so Dan doesn't have any of Vlad's memories. Next, I'm a big fan of the idea that Dan deeply regrets killing his human half and is, for lack of a better word, haunted by the action. It was the first death of his reign of terror, his final chance to turn back from the dark path he was on and...it was his suicide.

Now, Dan doesn't realize any of this for what feels like centuries. He's trapped in the Fenton thermos in Clockwork's lair, alone with only his thoughts. And the knowledge starts creeping in, all that he'd lost, all that he'd done. He realizes that he misses his friends and family and to his surprise, he hopes his younger self saved them. But then he realized that he tried to kill them. And the guilt starts creeping in. The regret follows and he remembers all the rest of his crimes. He doesn't have enough humanity, enough emotional capacity to be wrecked but he's no longer a rage fueled destructive monster.

Then to Dan's shook, Clockwork releases him without a word. The master of time dumps him in the new timeline, maybe a few months after the events of TUE. To his dim relief, Dan finds that his friends and family are all still alive. He watches them for a while, trying to process where he is and what happened. But then he runs into Danny. And things don't go well. It's a rocky start. Danny does not trust Dan at all. He doesn't trust that the older ghost has no intention of hurting his loved ones. Danny is ready and willing to fight and recapture him. The younger's opinion doesn't change until Dan saves him and Jazz during a ghost attack. The two ghosts, at Jazz's insistence, come to an uneasy impasse. Danny will leave Dan alone if the older ghost leaves him and his family alone. Dan isn't really happy about this arrangement but it's better than being trapped in the thermos again and he does have no intention of hurting his younger counterpart or his loved ones.

So Dan concedes. He stays out of Danny's way. He watches. He catches glimpses of his former friends and family from a distance. And it hurts. Dan feels out of place, disconnected. This isn't his time, isn't his place. He's stuck on the outside looking in... and this timeline already has a Danny, one who didn't make the aggresous mistakes he did. And those mistakes... the guilt's still there but like all other emotions, it's dim and distant. That's how it's been since his death, with every emotion but rage. But still, Dan does not like being on the outside looking in. He needs to do something else with himself, find some place he can belong.

Then Dan remembers Vlad. He had gone to the older half ghost after losing everything. And... Vlad had tried to help him. Separating the then halfa at his request had been a horrible idea but Vlad had been trying. Vlad did care about him. And.... the man must be so lonely now. Lonely like Dan himself is.

It's something of a wim but Dan goes to the older halfa. And at first, it's a surprise to Vlad and then seemingly a dream come true. Here in front of him is a version of Daniel who wants to stay by his side willingly. This Dan is more powerful and experienced than his younger counterpart, though not as experienced as Vlad. The young man is willing to be taught and all he seemingly wants is companionship. Yes, it would be a dream come true except...

Dan will not tolerate any of Vlad's shit. He will not be used to hurt anyone ever again. He will not take part in any of Vlad's schemes against the Fentons. It's a high price to pay but the older man backs off. Vlad is content to not be alone and have a chance to convince Dan to work with him.

So Dan stays with Vlad. With the older man busy with work, Dan has free reign of the mansion for most of the day. In some ways, it's nice. Away from Amity Park, there's no temptation to check on his former loved ones. His longing for a life he can no longer have is diminished. Vlad's mansion provides ample distraction, in the library, the game room, the gardens. But... the days are long and often lonely and the nights... they're even worse. The large building, empty and quiet, it's too much like a time Dan wishes he could forget. The memories are stronger now. After the fiery explosion...weeks of weeping in his room. Somber diners with Vlad where he couldn't force himself to eat. Waking up from another nightmare.

Without his humanity, the grief isn't as soul wrenching as it should be. But it's ever present, the memories on repeat. And there is little to break them up. As a ghost, Dan cannot sleep. He cannot eat. He can't truly feel the sun on his face or the comforting chill of the water on the pool. All physical sensations are dimmed.

And Dan starts to realize, it's excruciating. He feels incomplete, like there's a gapping whole in his chest. The memories of his own death, seen from the outside, return. His own icy blue eyes wide with fear and pain. Red blood spattered on his face. It's horrifying. Or it should be. If Dan could muster up more than the dimmest shadow of the emotion. But he can't, because the part of him that could died 10 years ago. And... this is wrong. He is wrong.

He should have died completely as himself, as Danny Fenton. He shouldn't have watched his death from the outside by his own hands. He shouldn't be this half being that couldn't even be bothered to die properly.

Dan stews, a forgotten anger growing as he longs for something he'd once wanted rid of. His human self, his Fenton, his humanity... he wants it. He wants to be truly, completely himself again. He wants to be whole enough to fade, to move on.

But that is the problem with ghosts, especially one like him. They do not change. They do not move on. As much as Dan acts like he is older, like he is different, he is not. He's the same angry, broken teen that he was ten years ago. And he will never be anything else.

Dan rages, trashing Vlad's training room. Soon enough, his anger is spent and the young man comes back to his senses. Dan huffs in frustration and annoyance at himself. He'd rather enjoyed Vlad's training room and now the man himself will likely be cross with him. Dan does his best to put the room back in order and find something else to do.

But the pain, regret, and longing linger. At some level, Dan thinks he's being ridiculous. All his former loved ones are alive. Dan isn't alone. He has Vlad and the ability to determine his own future. This world wasn't ravaged by his hand. His mistakes have been erased. He should be free. Except...

No, his mistakes are not all erased. His own death returns to his mind over and over. He shouldn't think about, he shouldn't dwell on it but...

One day, Dan goes down to Vlad's secret lab. He knows he shouldn't. This is such a breach of Vlad's trust but... this is were it happened. The young man stares at the metal table. If he was capable of feelings cold, he would shiver. There, where he was pulled out of his body. That wall, he cornered his human half there, the boy cowering in fear. There, that control panel was spattered with his own blood.

Dan wishes he could cry but he's not human enough for that. He's not human at all. But he wishes he was.

Startled by the thought, the full ghost turns away. He shouldn't wish for things he can't have but... no. Dan's eyes flicker around the room, looking for small differences from his memories. Some of the equipment is laid out differently. There are different samples on the shelf and... that door wasn't there before.

Dan walks through and finds... metal and glass chambers in different degrees of construction. A few are filled with ectoplasm and there in the back... if Dan had a heart, it would stop. There in a clear pod with a breathing mask over his face is...Danny Fenton. No, that's not right. This isn't... this isn't his timeline. And his younger counterpart is in Amity Park so....

Dan frantically searches Vlad's computer, his notes for answers. Clones. Vlad had been trying to clone his younger half ghost counterpart. In the tube... clone 3. Fully human. Suffered mental decline from 2 weeks gestation and eventually brain death a month later. Body kept alive by machines since... the week Dan arrived.

Dan wishes he could feel shock. He wishes he could feel relief. From the data, this was the first attempt that even resembled something human. The others were by all measures animals, in no way sentient. And it appears Vlad hasn't continued working since Dan came to live with him. But still...

Dan confronts Vlad, asking about the experiments, about the clone kept on life support.

"I could not bear to pull the plug." Vlad answers, surprisingly sober. "I'd hoped his condition would improve." There is a far away look in his eyes, a longing. "I tried everything I could think of to stop the degradation but..." The older half ghost shook his head. "I'm continuing to monitor 3's status." There was a pain in Vlad voice. "I fear he won't live to see the outside of his chamber."

Vlad was in denial, Dan thinkd. This clone is gone, like his own human half. The heart still beats, the lungs still breath but...

He shock his head. "Before you approach me, I consider...if I could create a viable, ghostly clone and coax the spirit to hybridize with the body..."

The idea was ridiculous and he should be disgusted, hearing all Vlad had done, what he had planned but...

"That is all in the past now." Vlad finished sadly.

All in the past like the loss of his own human half. He shouldn't wish for things that he couldn't have but...

"I'm a viable ghost..." Dan could barely believe the words coming out his mouth. "Not a clone but... I am without a human side."

Vlad is staring at him like he has another head, something which Dan was sure he did not currently have. "Daniel...are you suggesting... what I think you are suggesting?"

Was he? It was ridiculous, impossible. He could not replace his human side by... possessing an animated corpse.

"No. I am not." Dan denied. "Forget I said anything."

Vlad gave a nod, dropping the conversation. But Dan did not forget. This idea... it was wrong. It was impossible. He couldn't be made a half ghost again. But...

The temptation. If anyone could get it to work, it would be Vlad. And if it did...the ghost floats to what had been his bedroom and laid down. If it worked, he could sleep. He could eat. He could go out in public with human. It would necessarily be a replacement for what he'd lost but...

No... this was wrong. This was basically a clone of himself whose body he wanted to steal. But... was it really? This was an empty body, no mind, no soul. It was mad science but... Dan was already the product of mad science.

And if it worked, not as an overshadowing but a hybrization... he could truly age, he could grow passed what happened. And he could feel more than the pale shadows he could now.

The next day, Dan asks Vlad for what he wants.

"Are you sure?" The man asked. "This could have unknown consequences on your body or your mind. You could even destabilize."

That gave Dan pause. This might not work. He might end up in unknown pain or even fade but... "this is worth the risk."

The pair work together, planning and experimenting. They give the body transfusions of Dan's ectoplasm. The younger ghost practices envisioning himself as a halfa again. He prepares himself.

"I will need to reduce you down to your core." Vlafd says solemnly.

Dan places his existence in Vlad's hands. After blowing off seemingly endless amounts of energy in a desolate portion of the Ghost Zone, the older halfa repeatedly shocks him with the Plasmius Maximus. Dan's body pops out of existence, leaving his core exposed.

As just a core, there is no sensation. No input. No output. It's terrifyingly like being in the thermos again. Dan knows he is being moved. Vlad is doing something to him but... there is nothing and too much at the same time.

Dan can not process. He is cradled. There is something beside him, something around him reaching out. Something is changing. He is changing. It is too much. Dan loses consciousness for the first time in ten years. It is not sleep. There is no dream. He can think one moment, separated from the world. And the next...

He is under water. Something is beeping. He feels light but heavy. Cold but warm. His center is fluttering, something straining and pounding. An emotion. Something that might be panic or fear suddenly rises in him, crashing over him as a wave. An equally panicked voice comes from in front of him. Then there's a sting in his neck. Sting? Pain? Pain, it's been so long since he felt pain. And... his neck? He has a neck again. Dan blacks out again.

The young man comes to again. There is still something beeping near his head. He's not under water now but laying on something soft. Soft and warm. Warm....Dan can feel that. His breath hitches. Breath... he feels lungs move on his chest. And...he feel heavy and warm. Something... something happened. He can't remember what...

Dan's eyes flutter open, falling on... Vlad.

The man's eyes met his, relief flashing across them. "Daniel." He sighs. "How do you feel?"

"Feel?" Dan crocks. Is that... is that his voice? "What...what happened?" The ghost (?) thinks he might know. "Did it work?" He whispered.

Dan's voice... his voice is high, like when he was a younger teen. It should feel strange but...

"Take a look." Vlad says, offering him a mirror.

Dan reaches forward with a shaking hand. His hand... it's not gloved, neither is it blue. It's.... he stares. It's a pale peach color like... his hands are smaller and thinner....

"Daniel." Vlad interrupts. "It's alright." He holds the mirror up and...

Dan meets blue eyes. His own blue eyes. Eyes he never thought he'd see again except on someone else. His eyes water as he reaches towards the mirror. "It worked."

His new heart is aching, a thousand emotions hitting him. Joy, happiness, relief, grief, guilt, regret. All of them are bigger, nearer, more real and soul-aching than it's been in years. He should be upset. He looks and sounds like a kid again. But... "I'm alive."

He is alive. And it is a joy. A gift. A promise. He will not waste this second chance.

The newly remade halfa is crying and...it's never felt so good.

[foxghost]

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 112

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 3, Chapter 24 (Part 7)

Right there behind the stone statue at the top of the stairs is a wide platform, and behind the platform is a set of derelict buildings stacked out of bricks. It’s eerily quiet on top of the platform as it’s little frequented, and green creeper vines have climbed all the way up from the base of the foundations miles below. Nothing marks the years’ passing in the mountains, as though time itself is frozen here.

“Is this where you trained?” Duan Ling asks.

“Yes. This is White Tiger Hall,” Wu Du replies, climbing the steps with Duan Ling until they’re before the great hall. A plaque is barely hanging on high above them with three characters written in ancient seal script: White Tiger Hall.

“We’ll sleep here tonight. It may still be a bit cold in the mountains, but I think …”

“That’s quite alright,” Duan Ling replies, standing in front of the great hall, he stretches, facing the green hills beyond and their misty clouds. It reminds him of a line of poetry: my mind expands to take in this expanse of clouds; the sight of homecoming birds stretches the edge of my vision.2 From the moment they left Jiangzhou he’s enjoyed the first true days of leaving all his worries behind. Here, he doesn’t have to worry about anyone coming to kill him, and neither does he have to worry about saying anything by accident that can get him killed. They can sleep soundly and let themselves relax.

He turns back to glance at Wu Du. Wu Du is inside the great hall, sweeping the stone paths clean. When he finds a bird’s nest on a chair, he picks up the nest and wipes down the chair before putting it back.

“Eh?” Duan Ling spies a small animal dodging behind a pillar and walks quickly over. It’s a squirrel. When it hears footsteps it stops, turns around, and hesitatingly stares at Duan Ling.

“Animals in the mountains aren’t afraid of people,” Wu Du explains.

“Are there other people here?”

“No. Even back then it was just me, my master, his wife, and Shijie.”

Recalling the Xunchun who lost her life in Shangjing, Duan Ling lets out a sigh.

Once Wu Du finishes cleaning he adds, “Duan Ling, come. Let’s go meet the White Tiger.”

Duan Ling walks to the centre of the main hall, and looks up at a white tiger carved out of white marble enshrined in the altar. Its eyes are sunken as if gems used to be set in them, but they’re long lost, presumably stolen by thieves. A mottled, dilapidated mural of “A Thousand Miles of Rivers and Mountains”3 has been painted on the wall behind it, with seven Weiqi pieces carved out of marble inlaid into the mural.4

“I’m the seventeenth generation disciple, successor of the lineage of poison,” Wu Du says to the white tiger statue, “current leader of the White Tiger Hall, Wu Du. I’m here today with the crown prince of the central plains.”

Duan Ling cannot help but be awestruck, and his back straightens at Wu Du’s words. Wu Du stands tall in front of the statue, holding the index and middle fingers of his left hand to the back of his right hand to bow as a part of a special ritual on his pilgrimage to the White Tiger. "Lord White Tiger, please bless …

“What’re you called again?” Wu Du pauses to ask Duan Ling.

“What?”

“Your name.”

Duan Ling stares at Wu Du speechlessly. Wu Du stares silently back.

“What kind of a sect leader are you?” Duan Ling doesn’t even know what to tell him.

Wu Du whines, “That day you shocked me right out of my head, so how was I supposed to remember anything? Say it already.”

“Li Ruo, here to pay my respects,” Duan Ling takes one step forward. He knows that the White Tiger constellation is the god of soldiers and warfare, in control of everything that has to do with slaughter. He bows. “I pray for Great Chen to triumph in every battle, to be victorious in every war.”

Wu Du cracks a grin, and turns to the statue. “I pray you’ll bless and protect the crown prince of Great Chen, Li Ruo, and to allow him a smooth return to the imperial court.”

They each finish talking to the White Tiger, and afterwards, they look up together in silence, staring at the statue with its missing eyes. A draft brushes them by, pouring from the back of the main hall and rushing out the entrance, setting the fringes of their robes fluttering — as if a fierce tiger has just crossed the forest, setting all the leaves in the trees rustling.

“Where did its eyes go?” Duan Ling asks Wu Du.

“No idea. It’s never had them as far as I can remember, so they must have been dug out long ago. Its eyes can’t see, but it can hear just fine.”

Duan Ling thinks, sounds like that’s true. Perhaps the breeze was its instruction.

Duan Ling has never had so much free time in his life before. That very afternoon, Wu Du takes the stairs down the mountain again to move the bedding and food from their boat to their lodgings. Duan Ling offers to help, but Wu Du just tells him to rest. As soon as he puts the stuff down on the platform he’s off again to the boat for more.

White Tiger Hall has a rear courtyard with a set of houses sectioned into east and west wings, while the main house was the place where Wu Du’s master and his wife used to live. Duan Ling spots an alchemy furnace, still filled with solidified cinnabar and some medicaments, a mixture of something now pitch black. The west wing is Xunchun’s room. Duan Ling opens the door and peers inside to find it filled with cobwebs and dust, devoid of anything else. The east wing is Wu Du’s room. It has one bed, two wooden shelves filled with old things, piled high with worn-eaten ancient tomes.

“What a pity,” Duan Ling says, “you had this many rare hand-copied books, but they got so damaged. Aren’t you worried that the knowledge will be lost?”

Wu Du has drawn water from a creek behind the main hall, and he’s cleaning the house with his sleeves rolled up. "Everyone’s gone. Whether the martial arts knowledge is passed on or lost, there’s no one left to care about that anymore.”

“What’s in here?”

“The elixirs master refined ages ago. He’d always wanted to live forever, follow the Dao and become an immortal. He used to be just fine, but after eating too much of that stuff he couldn’t even fight anymore. When the capital was under attack he took his wife with him and got off the mountain to reinforce the troops, and he should have been able to escape unscathed, but whatever blasted elixir he took stopped his qi from flowing when he needed it, and the Khitans shot him to death.”

“Where’s he buried? Should we go visit his grave?”

“The cenotaph is back there. After the capital was taken by Khitans, Shijie had someone bring back his clothes. We’ll go if we have time. There’s no hurry.”

Together, Duan Ling and Wu Du clean up the room. Wu Du says, “I don’t need any of that stuff. Just toss it all out.”

“No no, they’re too valuable.”

“I’m keeping it all in my head, you know. Don’t flip through them now, they’re dusty. If you do that you’ll sneeze.”

Duan Ling sneezes dramatically more than a dozen times before he manages to reorganise Wu Du’s books, putting them away nicely on the shelves. He plans to make a copy of everything when he has time, and that way it’ll help keep White Tiger Hall’s knowledge intact.

It’s getting closer to dusk. Wu Du has half finished cleaning the place. He gets a fire started then, and begins making dinner for Duan Ling.

Watching Wu Du busying himself, Duan Ling feels as though he’s back to being a little kid again. He recalls those words once said to him: there will always be people who disregard all else to be good to you, no matter who you are. If I’m not the crown prince of Southern Chen, would Wu Du still have brought me here?

Duan Ling ponders this, and comes to the conclusion that Wu Du probably would.

Spotting an antique, worn-out case under the shelves in the room, Duan Ling bends down to open the lock. Once it’s opened, he discovers that it’s filled with wooden puppets of horses and people, carved with a small knife. They must have been toys carved by Wu Du for himself when he was all alone as a little kid. Underneath the toys is a red cloth sack, and Duan Ling’s about to open it when Wu Du notices and says, “Um … Don’t touch that!”

Thinking that it’s some deadly poison, Duan Ling quickly puts it back, but Wu Du is hurrying into the room, a crimson blush in his cheeks as he puts the cloth sack back in the lowest level of the case.

“What’s that?”

“It’s nothing.” Wu Du looks a bit embarrassed, which only serves to make Duan Ling even more curious and to keep pestering him. Self-conscious, Wu Du leaves for the kitchen to get more water so he can start steaming the fish, but Duan Ling follows him around the whole time until he gives up under the badgering. “It’s a baby wrap.”

Duan Ling pauses for a moment before he breaks out in side-splitting laughter. Wu Du sounds a bit irritated. “Don’t laugh!”

A thought occurs to Duan Ling and he thinks he understands. “You wore it when you were little?”

“Yeah,” Wu Du replies, “when the master’s wife found me, that cloth was the only thing on my person.”

“Was there a birth certificate? Your parents’ names?”

“No idea. Even if there was one, my master would have burned it.” Wu Du says without minding him, “Assassins can’t have mom and dad.”

“Doesn’t that mean you wouldn’t know when your birthday is?”

“Well let’s just treat … the day she found me as my birthday.”

Duan Ling only comes to that realisation then. “Which day is it?”

Wu Du doesn’t say anything, and Duan Ling seems about to press him, so Wu Du can but tell him, “I’ll tell you when it comes up.”

Duan Ling stretches out his pinkie, and so Wu Du gives it a little shake with his own. “Go wait for dinner, but don’t run off. Maybe no one is going to kill you here but getting lost in the mountains is no joke.”

Wu Du limits Duan Ling’s roaming range to the area between the stone steps and plank walkways, extending all the way to the platform, and he can wander through the buildings of White Tiger Hall as well, but he can’t go to the mountains behind the halls. Duan Ling walks to the edge of the platform to view the clouds, where they flow like an ocean in the mountains; the mist has risen, and in the mountains it’s as quiet as the land of the immortals.

The racket and prosperity of Jiangzhou, the strife between people — all of it can be left behind for now. They all feel like nothing more than a dream Duan Ling had during an afternoon nap.

If he can stay here for the rest of his life, maybe no one will ever be able to find them?

If he stays here for the rest of his life, maybe he won’t ever have to worry about anything else anymore.

An idea occurs to Duan Ling as he stares out at the cloud sea. If he’s able to accomplish all his goals and retire in comfort someday, this will be his final and only resting place. After experiencing so much, there’s nothing happier than to live the rest of his life in peace, with someone by his side … as he thinks this he turns to look back inside White Tiger Hall. Wu Du just happens to be banging some metal together to make a clanging noise, letting him know that it’s time for dinner.

“Scram! I’ll hit you!”

As Duan Ling heads inside, he sees Wu Du scaring off a monkey that’s come out of nowhere. The monkey wants to come closer and beg him for some food, but it doesn’t dare get too close. It stares at Wu Du with wide puppy eyes, then it turns them on Duan Ling. Duan Ling can’t help but laugh soundly, tossing it a bit of dry rations. The monkey immediately grabs it and runs off.

“There’s another one over there.” Duan Ling looks around and finds the big monkey rushing to give another, smaller monkey the food after it successfully begged for some.

“If you want food, eke out a living for yourself.” Wu Du jokes around. “If you want to be lord and master of the household, you’ve got to support your family.” Then Wu Du pushes against the great doors with his shoulder to close them.

During the evening, a solitary lamp swings back and forth in the mountain breeze, and beneath it the two of them have rice with plates of side dishes, along with the live fish they bought on the river. There’s even a couple of cups of wine to go with it.

After they finish drinking, Wu Du says to Duan Ling, “I’m going to take you somewhere. Let’s go.”

It happens to be a full moon tonight. Wu Du takes Duan Ling towards the mountains behind the halls, and they turn a corner through a narrow path, coming to the other side of the mountain where the sky seems to open up; the desolate wilderness of the mountains makes the moon look even brighter, and silvery light fills their vision.

Lit by moonlight, throughout the mountains, this is the only place planted full of peach trees; out in the mortal world peach blossom season has reached its end, but in the mountain temples they’re in full bloom. Amidst the mountain ranges the peach blossoms bloom in brilliant clusters, and the mountain breeze takes millions of petals off their branches to flutter beneath a bright moon.

“What do you think?” Wu Du asks with a smile.

Duan Ling is nearly unable to get any words out at all; he stares in a daze at the scenery before him.

“Only for about ten days every year,” Wu Du says, “do you get a view like this.”

“It’s too beautiful.”

Wu Du comes over to him, and they sit down on a rock together. He takes out his flute, and holds it to his lips. Music rings out, and in that instant, Joyful Reunion once more drags Duan Ling’s mind back into the faraway past.

When the song ends, Duan Ling and Wu Du quietly meet each other’s eyes.

Wu Du’s lips move imperceptibly, his breathing growing slightly urgent, and wearing nothing but an unlined robe and short pants, he’s sitting quite close to Duan Ling on the rock. Moonlight spills onto their snow white underclothes, and Duan Ling can vaguely make out the rugged and beautiful lines of Wu Du’s body.

“Duan Ling,” Wu Du says suddenly, “I … have something I want to say to you.”

Without knowing the reason for it at all, Duan Ling is starting to feel tense as well. “Wha—what?”

Wu Du looks down at him. They’re both quiet for at least several breaths, but then Wu Du is turning away to look towards the mountain streams, then up at the bright moon above, seemingly on edge.

“What did you want to say?” Duan Ling reaches out, his hand folding over the back of Wu Du’s hand, but Wu Du has turned his hand over to hold onto his.

“Do you …” Wu Du turns the thought over and over in his head before he appears to make up his mind and asks, “Do you like it here?”

Duan Ling smiles, and it’s like a million peach flowers blooming beneath the moonlight, how brilliant their blossoms.

“Earlier today I was just thinking,” Duan Ling tugs on Wu Du’s hand, “maybe someday I’ll just live here in the White Tiger Hall and never go back to the earthly world.”

“Oh no no,” Wu Du says immediately, “now that won’t do. I … you …”

“Yeah.” Duan Ling thinks about his duty, and that’s bound to be a heavy subject. He jests, “It’s just a thought.”

“No, that’s not …” Wu Du collects himself and says, “What I was thinking is that … aside from this place, I also want to take you … other places. And if you want … you can … take your time to pick, pick the place you love the most … anywhere is fine. The edge of the oceans, the ends of the earth, as long as you want to be there, I’ll be at your side.”

Duan Ling stares at him in startled silence.

“I … What I’m thinking is …” Wu Du doesn’t dare look at Duan Ling, and he can only stare off anywhere else, his handsome face turning crimson to his collarbones; even the skin under his tattoo is glowing red like he’s been drinking. His grip on Duan Ling’s hand grows tighter subconsciously and he stammers through his speech.

“Afterwards, I’ll also take you … to all those places you want to see. I’ll take you to Diannan, take you to … see the ocean. You … Shan’er, that day … when you called me ‘milord’, I know maybe you were just joking, but I’ve taken you here because I wanted to ask you … if you’re willing to … for the rest of our lives …”

By now Wu Du has already calmed down. The words have already left his mouth so he’s not going to be nervy anymore.

“In front of other people, you and I will be as we always were.” Wu Du doesn’t know where his courage is coming from, but he’s staring into Duan Ling’s eyes as he says solemnly to him, "Even if you’ve returned to the imperial court, I don’t need you to make me anything official. As long as you still think of me as you do in your heart today, I will find you the Zhenshanhe and guard you for the rest of your life, until the day I die.

“I know that in the future you’ll become the emperor. But I really … really … really want to be … with you …”

As he says this he’s getting nervous again. “I think … if you’re willing, I’ll definitely treat you well. Whenever we’re alone and there’s no one else around, I’ll … treat you … treat you as I would treat … my wife, and you’ll … yield to me as you would …”

Duan Ling stares at Wu Du in a daze, and Wu Du realises now that he’s still squeezing on Duan Ling’s hand and hurriedly lets it go. He reaches into a pocket in his robe and takes out a string of beads.

Wu Du unfolded his fingers, holding the beads in front of Duan Ling, and he moves his hand forward a little, as though he’s a mere humble human being presenting a tribute he made with all his heart, in a gesture more reverent than making an offering to the gods of their world.

The tribute is a bracelet strung with rosary peas.

Duan Ling’s cheeks turn scarlet in an instant as he comes to realise what Wu Du has left unsaid — to his surprise, Wu Du is wooing him. Even before this Duan Ling has had a vague feeling that this is the case, and the present moment is reminding him of that evening as the sun was setting, and Wu Du had taken his hand and told him all those things in the maple forest.

In a flash, the Duan estate’s dark woodshed, the snowstorm oppressive above the frozen Yellow River, those unfamiliar and gloomy days in Shangjing, a war that shook the earth beneath him, a night of panicked escape that feels like it happened yesterday, that harsh winter in Luoyang, his father’s death … in his mind these memories all shatter one by one.

They were each alone in the world as children, and now they’re beneath a sky filled with fluttering peach petals, silently facing each other.

In place of those memories are all those dreams once promised to him in that endless river of time, all those colourful, dazzling hopes, with the life he wants to lead.

Duan Ling seems able to see himself, and he’s able to see Wu Du as well — the Wu Du who grew up orphaned and alone is finally all grown up, and has made his way to him.

Wu Du’s hands have once solemnly taken hold of the sword that represents the last of the central plains martial artists; they have also blocked the sword that came at him with a force great enough to shatter the firmament itself outside Tongguan. But now they’re somehow overtaken by a slight but uncontrollable trembling.

“I …” Duan Ling takes a deep breath as he tries his best to restrain the excitement rushing about in his heart, but he notices that he’s unable to say anything at all. When he raises his eyes to meet Wu Du’s though, it seems Wu Du has come to a different conclusion. Noting that Duan Ling hasn’t taken the bracelet from him, his expression grows sad, and forcing a smile tinged with agony, he nods as though he already knew this would be the answer.

But to his surprise, instead of taking Wu Du’s bracelet, Duan Ling has thrown his arms around Wu Du’s neck, and closing his eyes, he leans in and presses his lips to Wu Du’s.

A mountain breeze blows by, sending a rustling through the leaves; flower petals scatter to fly through the air.

Wu Du’s eyes widen, and his entire body freezes as though he’s been struck by lightning. Not daring to move an inch, he holds the pose with their lips touching. When he comes to himself in the next moment, he stares at Duan Ling, his heart beating madly in his chest.

The two of them pull apart and Duan Ling takes Wu Du’s bracelet from him. He grips it between his fingers, breathing rapidly, wanting to say something but has no idea where to begin. They’re both red in the face, blood rushing through their ears, but Duan Ling is wearing a small, shy smile on his face.

And yet in the next moment, without a word at all, Wu Du gets up and runs into the forest of peach trees.

“Wu Du?” Duan Ling calls him, but Wu Du isn’t stopping at all. In two shakes he’s run so far not even a shadow of him can be seen anymore.

Duan Ling stares into the dark speechlessly, no idea what’s happening, but when he chases over he finds Wu Du turning somersaults under a tree, following them with a sweeping kick and several punches, whipping up the leaves and flower petals so they flutter like a cloud around him.

Duan Ling laughs, and Wu Du suddenly turns around. When he realises that Duan Ling’s spotted him, he dodges behind a tree trunk.

Duan Ling puts on the bracelet. Meanwhile, Wu Du has closed his eyes with his back against a peach tree, revealing that slightly roguish yet captivating smile.

Duan Ling has no idea what he should say. It seems as though everything has changed through this one evening, and the scenery before him has taken on a special meaning. I actually kissed him earlier! Where did I find the courage to do that? Wu Du’s lips were scorching hot and soft, not at all the way he’d imagined them to be, and he’s still thinking about the sensation he had in the very instant he kissed him.

Wu Du turns his head to peer from behind the tree, and finds Duan Ling sitting on the rock, stock still, with his back to him, facing the mountain range and valleys beneath the moon.

Flute music begins again, but this time it’s an elated, cheerful melody. Duan Ling turns to look; Wu Du is standing beneath a tree, playing another tune that sounds like a folk song. A smile spreads over Duan Ling’s face.

“What song is that?”

When Wu Du finishes playing it, he puts the flute away and answers him with a smile, “Little Water Clock. I only ever heard the master’s wife play it once, so. I don’t even remember if that’s exactly how it goes.”5

Wu Du returns to his seat by Duan Ling’s side, and they look at each other, smiling without words.

Then, Wu Du turns a fraction, and reaches out to wrap his arm around Duan Ling’s waist. He puts his other hand over Duan Ling’s cheek, and with a slightest tilt of his head, he seals Duan Ling’s lips with a kiss.

Duan Ling touches Wu Du’s face; the bracelet is wrapped around that wrist.

This kiss lingers on and on, as though long suppressed emotions have finally breached the surface, and in the blink of an eye their feelings have transformed into a raging flood, thoroughly drowning them both.

Wu Du doesn’t want to let go of Duan Ling even for a moment; he has his arms wrapped around Duan Ling’s waist, and almost pressing him against the rock, licks into his mouth. Duan Ling feels his cheeks growing ever hotter under this assault, and as time drips by he’s more sure that Wu Du is growing more impertinent in his plunder.

Duan Ling really is getting way too nervous, and he can’t help but struggle. As he does, Wu Du loosens his hold on him and swallows, staring into his eyes as though he has also realised that he’s gone a bit overboard. He lets go of him at once and asks uneasily, “I didn’t … I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Duan Ling shakes his head. He’s not sure why, but the scene he spied in the Bouquet Pavilion is surfacing in his mind again and it really is too exciting. However, he can’t seem to accept something like that just yet.

“Let’s … head back.” Duan Ling thinks that if they’re going to kiss then they’d better kiss indoors — at least they’ll have a roof over their heads.

Wu Du has come to his senses as well and says, “It’s windy, you better not catch a cold. Let’s go.”

Duan Ling and Wu Du slot their fingers together, and holding hands they stroll leisurely through the mountain paths back to the house.

“Mi … lord.” Duan Ling suddenly remembers what he called him, and smiles at the thought.

Wu Du is finding that funny as well, and the corner of his mouth is turning up before he knows it. His gaze goes from Duan Ling to the path before them, a narrow path passing through a boundless cloud sea, shimmery with moonlight, cutting through towering mountains.

As they go to sleep at night, Duan Ling can’t help reaching out to touch Wu Du’s chest, and they’re wrapped in each other’s embrace again; Wu Du leans in and kiss him cautiously, their bodies rubbing against each other through two thin layers of cloth, both of them growing scorchingly hot. It’s the first time Duan Ling has ever done anything like this, and it just happens to be spring when brand new desires are starting to bloom, while Wu Du has been studying the martial arts for years, and with no avenue of release for his longing, his breath burns him, wishing he could hold on to Duan Ling and simply have his way with him.

They kiss and kiss again; Wu Du’s hand slides under Duan Ling’s waistband, but when it goes over the curve of his hip and reaches his ass, Duan Ling starts to gasp urgently, and Wu Du swallows.

“Do I have to … to … do that?” Without warning, Duan Ling suddenly feels a bit scared.

Sobering, Wu Du thinks about this for a moment. “It’ll hurt you a lot, so not right now. Let’s do that some other time.”

Duan Ling nods and relaxes somewhat. He holds onto Wu Du, studying his features. Wu Du gives him another kiss and whispers, “I can’t bear to hurt you.”

And so Duan Ling smiles again. They’re pressed up against each other, with that hard thing between their legs rubbing together through the thin cloth of their pants. Even if it’s behind a sheet of fabric Duan Ling can still feel how big and hard Wu Du is — so much bigger than his own. Duan Ling just thinks it feels so good to rub against him like this, and he’s getting wet down there as he does so.

Wu Du’s breathing trembles, feeling so good he shivers all over, and soon enough he decides to simply turn them so that Duan Ling is beneath him, so that his weight is pressed down on Duan Ling as he kisses his lips, kisses the corner of his mouth.

After embracing each other for a while, they both somehow feel calmer, and neither of them say anything at all, just stare into each other’s eyes. Wu Du still can’t help smiling. “It’s like I’m dreaming.”

They’ve been kissing each other over and over yet Duan Ling isn’t prepared to do this or that … but he feels somewhat curious about it after all. “Does it really hurt a lot? Have you tried it?”

“I haven’t. Zheng Yan was the one who said that … yeah.”

“He’s tried it?”

Wu Du isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say to that. He reaches into Duan Ling’s shirt, touching him until it tickles. Duan Ling’s hands are behind Wu Du’s neck though, so he has no way of fighting back, and all he can do is beg for mercy repeatedly until Wu Du lets up. “He’s a ne’er do well who has a tendency to paw at pretty young men. I’ve been told that if you’re not careful it can hurt a lot. I don’t want you to develop a fear of it. When we get home I’ll get some … uh … at any rate I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to think about it anymore.”

Duan Ling understands now, and comes to think that is perhaps true. But he thinks that’s fine too — Wu Du’s tall figure pressing down against him gives him an overwhelming feeling of safety.

“I’ll take you home too, in the future,” Duan Ling whispers, his eyes roaming over Wu Du’s handsome features.

“You’ll go back some day.”

Wu Du thought Duan Ling was talking about the palace, but what Duan Ling meant was Xunyang. He’ll go there with Duan Ling at some point also. It’s springtime in Xunyang right now; the flowers must have already bloomed.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

From Du Fu’s poem, 望嶽 / “Mountain Gazing”. ↩︎

You can see the painting here. ↩︎

Also known as Go. ↩︎

The original here actually says Little Water Clock · Golden Hairpin, but the first part is the melody, while the second part is the lyrics. Golden Hairpin is a poem about love. ↩︎

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Truth

Hey. Hey guys. Remember when I said I was feeling optimistic about this season? God, that was funny, wasn't it?

Let's just... Let's just get into the actual first episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Truth.

We start off with Gabriel repairing the damaged Peacock Miraculous, which also restores Duusu's sanity, before he quickly gives it a test run by transforming with both it and the Butterfly Miraculous.

And good lord, the result looks atrocious. This is the design for the new and improved Hawkmoth? First off, the peacock feather eyepatch looks stupid. Is he trying to be the Phantom of the Opera? When Mayura had the same thing, it didn't completely cover her eye and matched her color scheme. It just doesn't match with this new design here. Other than the feather, the peacock aesthetic is barely visible here. The most we get is a peacock feather pattern on the back of his jacket. And then there's the popped collar and coattails, which only look more ridiculous than menacing. What made the original Hawkmoth design work was how sleek it was. It was simplistic, which reflected Gabriel's no-nonense personality. This just looks gaudy and unnecessary. How was this right after the amazing suit the animators gave Dragonbug?

So after Gabriel designs another stupid looking outfit, we cut to Marinette, who's still trying to figure out how the Miracle Ball works. She accidentally opens it, letting the Kwamis out, who wreak havoc on her room because Marinette suffering is going to be a big part of this episode. This just raises the question: Why can't Marinette simply order them back into the box like Su-Han did, or rather, is going to do? It's still not established what gives the Guardians authority over the Kwamis in the first place.

Two of the Kwamis accidentally start a video chat with her friends, leading to some more Unfunny Marinette Slapstick. But Alya thinks something's up with her friend.

Has Marinette even told Alya she's already in a relationship? Like, at all? It feels like all Alya is there for now is to remind the audience that Marinette and Adrien are “meant to be”, even if they're both in relationships right now. It's either that, or teasing Marinette over her crush and doing nothing to help her anxiety.

Marinette accidentally ends the call, before Luka calls to thank her for the pictures of Adrien one of the Kwamis accidentally sent him. Yeah, even though he barely appears in this episode (barring his scenes at Cat Noir), they're going to talk about Adrien a lot. Marinette continues to stammer around Luka (once again making fun of people who have speech issues), but Luka, being the ray of sunshine in any abysmal episode he's in, is completely understanding of it. He also sets up a pretty funny joke.

Apparently, Marinette missed her last date with Luka yesterday to see a movie that was re-released, Crocodile Heart, that was actually Jagged Stone's first movie. I wonder if it's connected to Crocodile Dundee.

While walking to the movie, Luka and Marinette play a game finishing the lyrics of a Jagged Stone song, establishing the former as a huge fan of the rock star. Before we can actually get an on-screen kiss for Lukanette, Mr. Pigeon attacks yet again, because I guess he's the first villain Hawkmoth wants to use in his new form.

Cat Noir sneaks up on Ladybug, causing her to accidentally throw him off a building before catching him, chastising him for the stupid jokes, yet Ladybug has to apologize for missing patrol with her partner, who casually acknowledges her new status as Guardian before the two go and fight Mr. Pigeon.

By the time they defeat him, the movie ends as Marinette gets back, disappointing Luka. We then get a montage of Marinette bailing on Luka multiple times to stop Akumas and Sentimonsters. To his credit, Luka is seriously torn up by all the times Marinette leaves him, showing he isn't just a calm soul.

After Marinette gets back, Luka takes her underneath a bridge to listen to the echoing sound of the water. Luka says that he never knew his father, and he would always go here to relax whenever he got stressed. He uses this to segue into asking Marinette where she constantly disappears to. He doesn't pressure her or anything like Alya, and he even says that if she still loves Adrien, he'll understand. He only asks for the truth. Unfortunately, Marinette can't tell him the truth, which just breaks the poor boy's heart.

Hawkmoth, now calling himself Shadowmoth, sends out an Akuma and an Amok for Luka at the same time, corrupting a guitar pick signed by Jagged Stone that Marinette gave him. And again, to Luka's credit, he fights back against Shadowmoth's influence at first, saying he trusts Marinette, but the temptation of knowing the truth is too good to pass up. He tells Marinette to run before being akumatized into Truth, assisted by the Sentimonster Pharro.

Truth's design is... pretty forgettable. The guitar pick being prominent around his neck is a nice touch, but it's just a generic black bodysuit with light blue highlights, and he has a third eye instead of a visible mouth. Pharro is also pretty boring, just a giant eye that freezes people in place so Truth can use his powers to make them tell the truth.

So Truth goes back to where everyone else was hanging out before he was akumatized and asks Alya to tell him the truth about Marinette.

Yeah, he's right, Alya. That's what you believe. We're supposed to treat Alya saying Marinette loves Adrien as an unbiased source. Truth asks Rose, Mylene, Tom, and Sabine what Marinette's secret is in this episode, and they all say she's in love with Adrien. That isn't actually the truth. It's like asking an atheist if there is a God. You know what they believe is the truth, but you don't know if that answer is actually the truth. Why not have them reveal other secrets about Marinette, giving the audience subtle character details? Like the writers could make someone say stuff like she still sleeps with a nightlight on, or that she secretly gets cookies from another bakery.

You know what also would have worked? Instead, have Truth catch Marinette before she transforms into Ladybug, ask who she actually loved, and then she'll blurt out Adrien's name, shocking both her and Luka. This could also make Ladybug's confidence in herself waver throughout the episode, wondering if she actually loved Luka at all. That would have been much better drama than what we're going to get instead.

Ladybug charges in to stop Truth, but is zapped by his truth ray, meaning she'll be forced to tell the truth when asked any question. Before she can admit her identity, Cat Noir saves her by retreating with her into the Seine, before reassuring Ladybug that he wouldn't force her to tell the truth by force. It's a nice bit that does show he respects Ladybug's secret, a far cry from his behavior in episodes like “Syren” and “Frozer”. Truth turns his attention to his mother Anarka, and asks who his father is.

Yes. Seriously. This is happening. Luka's father is actually Jagged Stone. I have... mixed feelings regarding this development, but my biggest question is, well... they're doing this now? They couldn't save this for another episode? I mean, was focusing on Luka and Marinette's relationship (something that had been established since Season 2) not good enough of a plot for the writers? Why shoehorn in this plot development? Why not save this part as a teaser for a future episode? You know, have Luka walk home, and remember what he made his mother say as Truth, setting up an episode focusing on his relationship with Jagged Stone.

But no! Instead, we're just supposed to go along with the plot taking a detour. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't want Jagged Stone to appear in this episode.

Truth heads over to the hotel where Jagged Stone lives and asks him if he's actually his father, the latter admitting that Anarka was right. Truth naturally isn't happy.

Well, to be fair, it's still a better title than his first drafts, like “It's Not My Fault the Condom Broke”, or “Up Yours, I'm Not Paying the Child Support, Bitch”.

Honestly, I can get what the writers are going for, and I like the idea of them trying to give some depth to a character who was mostly used for comic relief in earlier episodes. The problem is, as much as they want to portray Jagged as regretful for walking out on his family, it still doesn't excuse him for never even bothering to check in on his children and their mother while writing a song about it. He doesn't even bother to give some money to the person he knocked up.

I'm not saying a conflicted relationship like this can't work in animation (a decent example being Steven Universe slowly growing to resent his mother for her time as Pink Diamond and believing his birth was an excuse for her to avoid responsibility), but you need to put more emotion into this. I don't come from a broken home, but if it turned out my dad was, let's say, “Weird Al” Yankovic, even if I enjoy his music, I wouldn't be happy that he decided to come back now of all times without so much as a “hello”.

Truth goes to Marinette's house/bakery, and starts looking for Marinette's diary to find out her secrets. It's almost like the minor plotline that he has a deadbeat dad was only there to eat up airtime. Ladybug is still affected by Truth's powers, and not long after she summons her Lucky Charm, Cat Noir is zapped too, so he starts asking questions that basically amount to complimenting certain qualities he and Ladybug have. When Ladybug asks him what he thinks about her being Guardian, Cat Noir says nothing's changed between them. It's a nice strategy, very reminiscent of when they had to talk in rhyme when fighting Frightengale. I'm also glad they aren't trying to play up Cat Noir not feeling as important immediately now that his partner has access to top secret information.

Cat Noir Cataclysms Pharro, but rather than destroying the Sentimonster, it causes it to go out of control, accidentally paralyzing Truth with some manipulation from her and Cat Noir. Ladybug then de-evilizes both the Akuma and Amok, defeating Truth.

Marinette struggles to find the words to explain things to Luka, but he says that he'll be waiting for her when she's ready. While walking back to his houseboat, Luka runs into Jagged Stone, who promises to write a song together with him. Because I guess Shadowmoth was kind enough of him to not erase that part of his memory. And of course, Luka just accepts this despite the fact that Jagged was absent from his entire life.

So according to this show, you shouldn't bother to give mean people a second chance, but it's okay to give your deadbeat dad a second chance without harboring any negative feelings? I'm sorry, but I just don't see the point of shoving in this subplot if you're barely going to do anything with it before coming to a resolution. If there was more detail put into it, like if Luka just angrily lashed out at Jagged for abandoning his mom, I would have been more open to it. But in the end, this major character revelation is nothing more than filler the episode doesn't need.

We cut to what I'm surprised doesn't happen at the end of every episode given how much crap she gets, Marinette crying in her bed, saying it's too dangerous to have a boyfriend thanks to Shadowmoth. One of the Kwamis apparently doesn't know what crying is, so Marinette asks them to give her a hug, and the showrunners really need to find another song to play at the end, because the upbeat song playing doesn't go with Marinette crying at all. Imagine if this song played at the end of Deep Space Nine's “In the Pale Moonlight” when Captain Sisko confessed to basically being an accessory to the murder of an alien ambassador. It'd be tonally jarring, wouldn't it?

Even the ending image doesn't feature Luka and Marinette together. Instead, he's hugging it out with Deadbeat Stone like everything's okay.

So yeah, that's how the episode ends. In case you couldn't tell, I thought it was awful.

Remember in my New York Special review, where I theorized that Astruc rewrote it to focus more on Adrienette to stop people from shipping Lukanette? I have another theory that I also want to be taken with a grain of salt. I think this episode might have also been rewritten a little to follow up on that. I mean, why else would Astruc spend two seasons building up Luka's relationship with Marinette only to rip it away the episode after they officially get together? It would also explain why it feels like there's two separate episodes going on with how shoehorned in Jagged Stone is.

But other than that, this episode managed to screw up the one thing I was actually looking forward to about this season, seeing Marinette together with Luka. Even if they were going to break up, I was hoping there would at least be a character arc for Marinette where she realizes what she truly wants in a relationship isn't with Luka, leading into a relationship with Adrien where she feels more confident in herself. I was at least hoping their relationship would last more than A SINGLE EPISODE.

In fact, remember that tweet Astruc made soon after the New York Special, defending Marinette and Adrien essentially cheating on Luka and Kagami respectively?

What exactly was so complicated about Season 4 when you're immediately going to break up a couple you spent two seasons building up? Astruc's predictions are about as accurate as Uri Geller.

And then there's the fact that all everyone talks about this episode is Adrien. Marinette's wall is covered with pictures of him, Alya thinks her friend's abnormal behavior is because Adrien's in the room with her, Luka somehow knows Marinette loves Adrien and is actually cool with it, and everyone else thinks that it's her biggest secret. How convenient is it that all of this happens when barring his scenes as Cat Noir, Adrien doesn't appear in this episode barring a five second cameo?

When I was writing this episode, I saw a tweet Astruc made addressing a question someone posed, asking why Adrien didn't get as much screentime in the recent Shanghai Special. He said that “history does not revolve around him”.

For the love of God, writers, just give Marinette a plotline that doesn't revolve around her feelings for Adrien for once. People already started to get sick of it halfway through last season. Either have her confess and make the Love Square canon, or stop letting it dominate the main story for once. Why can't the writers just let her move on from Adrien for more than a single episode? Give her a goddamn break already.

I once again have to ask: what was the point of building up a relationship between Luka and Marinette since Season 2, if you're just going to break them up the second they get together? Why make a big deal about Marinette's conflicted feelings for both Adrien and Luka if you're just going to ignore her feelings for the latter in favor of the former? And remember, chronologically, this was right after the end of Chloe's “damnation arc”, another plotline that had been built up since Season 2 only to be aborted in favor of “sUbVeRtInG tHe AuDiEnCe'S eXpEcTaTiOnS”. It feels like the writers are trying to punish people for getting emotionally invested in any storyline that doesn't relate to the holy pairing that is the Love Square.

This episode is just frustrating to watch. Part of me knew Marinette and Luka were going to break up, but I didn't think it would be this bad, and it would be so soon. I'm glad they're on somewhat good terms, and I liked the buildup to Luka realizing Marinette might not trust him, but the timing of this episode is what baffles me the most. Is it any wonder I think Astruc may have rewritten this episode?

If any Lukanette shippers need to recover, I'd recommend checking out @mc-lukanette​. They have some wholesome one-shots and fix-it fics for some of the weaker episodes of the series. In fact, she already wrote a fix-it to this abysmal episode that’s so much better than what we got.

[shihalyfie]

Daisuke’s background with his family

We don’t really know a lot about the Motomiya family compared to many of the others in the Adventure and 02 narrative, only getting a few glimpses here and there, and ultimately Daisuke (by his own self-admission) turns out to not really have any deep opinions or hangups about them, but it’s still interesting to see how it has an influence on his background!

We learn in 02 episode 14 that Daisuke and his family actually lived in Odaiba back in 1999, with Daisuke as a (probably honorary) member of the soccer club under Taichi, Sora, and Koushirou. It’s hinted here in Daisuke’s face, but the Adventure novels and Spring 2003 confirm that he was extremely frustrated at his inability to protect his family (with Jun “gently comforting” him), to the point where “becoming strong enough to protect everyone” became his motivation thereafter.

So, really, when it all comes down to it and serious things are happening, this is a family that does have a lot of love for each other -- Daisuke outright admits in the Character Complete File that it gets lonely when even one person’s out.

As it turns out, even the Motomiya parents have really dramatic personalities (the Animation Chronicle calls extra attention to Jun’s personality having been something she got from her mother), to the point where they suddenly get over-the-top excited when Ken comes over in 02 episode 35, and Daisuke’s irritated reaction makes it clear that this is expected behavior from them. (I promise you that Daisuke’s dad’s statement doesn’t come off as nearly as harsh or cruel in Japanese as it probably does in English here; it’s not any worse than him calling Daisuke a little silly.) In the end, Daisuke’s tendency to be over-the-top with all of his emotions and get ridiculously dramatic about everything is just something that came straight from his family.

Actually, when you think about it, Jun isn’t really that different from Daisuke either, right down to losing a ton of brain cells when things start involving a crush -- she’s only slightly more in-your-face about it (and only via goading Yamato on a “date” in 02 episode 7, but this is “date”, singular, basically just convincing him to spend a day with her and take her somewhere, not actually being in the illusion that he returns her feelings or expecting a long-term relationship). She’s simple-minded, airheaded, fantasizes about the idea of Yamato returning her feelings without ever actually doing anything conclusive about it, and then, the moment she realizes that Yamato’s taken, mopes about it for one in-universe day before immediately switching her affections to Shuu like nothing had happened. So, really: it runs in the family.

(This also means that Daisuke’s probably not in for that much trouble if a day ever comes in which it turns out he’s conclusively rejected by Hikari for real -- his current relationship with her is based off him never making any firm statement and thus her being able to smoothly dodge everything, but if things ever truly get conclusively to the point where things won’t pan out for him, it’s not hard to believe he’d actually get over it quickly after an initial bout of disappointment.)

In 02 episode 4, Daisuke makes an accusation of Jun for constantly talking badly about him, and, if the Animation Chronicle is to be believed, he’s not actually wrong -- apparently “spreading bad rumors about him wherever she goes” is a habit she has. Given what we learn about her and the siblings’ relationship later in the series, though, it’s unlikely she’s doing this out of conscious malice -- by “rumors”, basically just trash talking her little brother the same way a lot of people reading this post probably love trash talking their siblings when they’re out of earshot, much like her calling Daisuke “not cute at all” earlier in this same episode. It’s a world that Takeru and Yamato (who had only seen Jun at her “best” earlier in the episode) are completely unfamiliar with, and Daisuke’s attitude of “hating” her causes Yamato and Hikari to get upset at him, but many a Digimon fan commenting on this episode has pointed out that a lot of sibling relationships are more like this than the ones between the Ishida-Takaishi and Yagami siblings -- a lot more ostensibly “vitriolic” and not as unequivocally admiring.

On top of the fact that Daisuke and Jun aren’t in need of overcompensating with their relationship due to a rift like Yamato and Takeru, or one party having unhealthy repression problems and requiring extra care, Daisuke and Jun are also a whole six years apart, which is even given extra attention in the Animation Chronicle. Which means they’re not very close in perspective; Jun’s all the way in high school, dealing with a baby brother who’s still in elementary, and so it’s rather understandable that they’re not really going to see eye-to-eye very much.

We get an example of a “fight” between them in 02 episode 35, but...

Jun: I really envy you, Daisuke...All you do is eat, sleep, play and you don't think about anything else, do you? Daisuke: I think about lots of stuff! Jun: Lots of stuff like what? Daisuke: Like...Lots of complicated stuff. But if I think too much, my brain freezes so I need to take a break sometimes. Jun: I'm sure it's nothing serious. Daisuke: Shut up! What about you?

It’s not really a serious fight at all -- just a lot of banter, the sort that a lot of real-life siblings would attest to also having been in a lot of. Perhaps, just the natural result of having a household where everyone seems to have the same slightly rough-around-the-edges, somewhat messy, overly dramatic, simple-minded and straightforward personality -- which also means they end up bouncing off each other and getting a little “crowded” (Daisuke very clearly not following Jun’s warnings to not use her soap bottles written all over them in red pen in 02 episode 15). But for all Daisuke had used the strong word of “hate” to refer to their relationship back in 02 episode 4, it really just seems like he’d been his usual dramatic self about it, and it’s all banter and occasionally being quick to criticize. Moreover, whenever Jun criticizes him, he’s actually less angry about snapping back at her or getting genuinely offended or sad the way he might with anyone else -- all he does is just fling a few quips back and move on, and doesn’t take it all that personally, so you could say he’s conversely rather comfortable with this status quo of getting to bicker with her.

But, really, banter is just banter; even something as little as “Daisuke (seemingly) laughing to himself in the bathroom” is enough to make Jun worry that something’s wrong with him in 02 episode 15, and Daisuke’s father also personally thanks Natsuko for helping Daisuke out and waxes cheerfully about his son and friends having a fun Christmas party together. In fact, considering the context that Daisuke seemed to be pretty friendless prior to the series, the above scene carries the added implication that he’s probably pretty happy to see his son finally making some proper friends and going all the way to Tamachi to be part of a party.

And, eventually, as things get much more serious and the exact truth behind what Daisuke’s been up to is revealed to his family in 02 episode 50, they take this with the exact amount of grace and worry that a proper supportive family does.

Hence, why Daisuke can make a statement like this in 02 episode 49. Even if his family isn’t ostensibly full of hearts and affection, they’re supportive when it really comes down to it, and it’s not like Daisuke himself even really takes the surface bantering between himself and his sister all that seriously, so he doesn’t feel the need to ask for anything different -- and what he really wanted since that day three years ago was to be able to protect his family, and that’s exactly what he’s going to do now. Other than Hikari, the others had gotten “illusions” related to deep-seated issues involving their personal lives, but it’s not like he really would want it to be any different at home -- arguably it’d be outright weird to him if Jun suddenly got lovey-dovey with him or something -- and now he’s surrounded by supportive friends and his own partner. Sure, he has some tendencies towards being a bit on-edge and insecure every so often, but right now, in the midst of this very serious situation when something has to be done, and after a whole series’ worth of bonding with his new friends and gaining a sense of purpose, that’s more than enough for him.

[pizzazz-party]

Part 3: Ring’s Biology and Possible Origins

In the world of Ring Fit Adventure, there exist monsters, ghosts, cyborgs, robots, gods, a curious array of animals, human beings of enormous size…and Ring. Ring—a creature so entirely unique, he fails to fit into any of those categories.

Everyone has their own idea as to what Ring is, and as to where he came from. So here’s mine.

(Spoilers for the end of the main storyline. Various postgame dialogue spoilers beyond that.)

If we’re going to talk about where Ring might have come from, it makes sense to look for clues in what he’s presented as. Physically, and subtextually. So let’s take it from the top.

Stepping away from the confines of the game, Ring’s shape is based off a Pilates ring, a piece of exercise equipment who’s history dates back to nearly a century ago, as of the game’s release. It was invented to help rehabilitate wounded soldiers through physical therapy following World War I. Design-wise, though…Ring’s face draws heavy inspiration from depictions of Ancient Inca art. Specifically, he looks a lot like the figure atop this ceremonial tumi knife.

The prominent nose. The familiar jawline. A headpiece bisecting the brow. The blue commonly set into the eyes of the art. The ears—heavy earrings were unisex among the Inca nobility, resulting in long, stretched lobes. But most importantly—the statue is gold. And in the ancient Inca Empire, gold was revered as being sweat from the very sun itself. Metal nowadays is often associated with machinery, with invention. But raw metal has always been a fruit of the earth, as natural as any wood or leaf. The Inca took it a step further. They thought of gold as mystical.

Likewise, Ring’s design is meant to invoke these traits. Despite being made of metal, Ring visibly lacks gears or wiring or nozzles or hatches. His mouth may have a hinge and his flaming little hair piece may spin around. But in terms of “build,” Ring (the magical metal donut) has more in common with Pinocchio (the magical wooden puppet), than with an actual machine.

On a surface level, Ring really is best described as a “magical creature.” He’s obviously not made of flesh and blood. But he’s alive in a way that the closest comparison—sentient robots—just aren’t. Ring sweats, breathes, sleeps, eats. He ages. His metal face flexes and grows and shrinks as he speaks. Ring wields exercise energy, much in the same way that humans do, and more. He crafts, enhances, and stores things with it. Its raw essence flows through him like a fiery kind of lifeblood.

Ring’s not a human or a cyborg. He’s not a monster or a ghost or an animal. He’s made of metal like a robot, and that’s about it. And while Ring may (presumably) have the long life of a god, he lacks everything else. Right down to the proper shape and abilities. Ring, whatever the specifics, is a “magical creature” that exists in a class of his own. We never ever meet another being quite like him.

…At least. That’s what I used to think.

———

The thing with Ring is, it’s hard to tell whether he’s actively omitting facts or just forgetting them. He’s got a terrible memory. But he also as good as lies to us in the beginning, pretending as though Dragaux’s just some enemy to him.

So here is what I understand.

We meet Ring, and he and Dragaux are positioned as these perfect opposites, as perfect enemies. Ring builds others up, and Dragaux tears them down. Dragaux is flashy, an eyesore, the purple to Ring’s yellow, and yet he steals the stage every time. He’s a jerk, but he’s Ring’s jerk. We show up to every boss fight because we are invested in his story, his opinions, his downward spiral.

And that’s our first mistake, really. Because Dragaux’s accent color isn’t purple, it’s pink. Because Dragaux’s opposite isn’t Ring, it’s Trainee. And Ring’s real foil was never Dragaux, but Dark Influence itself.

———

Have you ever thought about how strange it is, this particular parasite. From a narrative standpoint, I mean. As much as it’s referred to as “Dragaux’s influence” or “Dragaux’s aura,” Dragaux is only its latest meal, not its source. And that meal has been lasting anywhere from decades to a century, at least. Dark Influence is, by nature, negativity incarnate. It could be as old as the hills. Older, maybe.

Dark Influence is voiceless, faceless. A parasite composed of pure negative exercise energy, it can theoretically exist on its own. But it thrives best when entrenched in the heart of a host. Its host—a physical creature that, once ensnared, starts exhibiting traits that belong to the Influence: like great swathes of flame in its signature color.

Does that not sound. Familiar.

Because Ring and Dark Influence? Fulfill eerily similar roles, in regards to their syncing partners.

Both of them harness their partner’s exercise energy. Both of them augment the abilities of their partner. But unlike Ring, who’s always actively helping Trainee in precise and creative ways…Dark Influence doesn’t care. I’m not sure if it can give a care about anything that doesn’t include “amassing power” and “spreading itself.” (And I think those are just instincts. I’ve yet to see proof that this thing has anything approaching a complex personality.) But whether or not it cares about Dragaux, it’s fully anchored within his body. It shares its strength with him because there’s nowhere else to store it.

Because unlike Ring, Dark Influence lacks a physical body of its own.

And that thought. How it “lacks” a body. Just sort of stuck around in my head. Because it’s funny, isn’t it? That Ring speaks and this thing doesn’t. That Dark Influence, this wildfire, is so strong and potent and infectious while Ring’s inner flames are so small and orderly and self-contained.

And then I started thinking about coins. Isn’t it funny, that they’re shaped like little rings. Isn’t it funny, that they sometimes just. Spring out of the ground.

How does a free-to-play gym turn a profit. How do all of these gyms, turn a profit.

If NPCs canonically collect coins on their travels just like Trainee… If someone isn’t just throwing away buckets of money into the mountains and rivers and skies… if golden little rings can just spring into existence alongside someone as they’re jogging…

What if it’s not a quirk. What if it’s not just a game mechanic.

What if everything—the coins, the EXP medals, the treasure chests with Ring’s face on them—what if they’re all byproducts that occur when a physical place is saturated with high amounts of foot traffic. With high amounts of exercise energy. People in Ring Fit Adventure constantly expel this stuff as they jog or work out or engage in fit battles. They don’t really direct it anywhere after its release. It just kind of gets absorbed into their surroundings. I always assumed that it helped make the land so lush and pretty, but what if it doesn’t stop there. What if, when large quantities of it gather, exercise energy naturally builds up and condenses itself into permanent, physical solids.

And I thought of Ring. Of the coins that are shaped like him. Of the medals that eerily share his face. Of the treasure chests especially, the way they scream and run and flex as though alive. (And I thought about Dragaux, who’s canonically brilliant, and how even his best statues fell short of capturing that same quality of animation.) I thought about how all three of these byproducts are golden. Just. Like. Ring.

Something like “dark” influence should have a natural counterpart. It’s a tale as old as time; perfect opposites, perfect enemies. But we never meet the Influence’s other half, do we? Just Ring.

Ring, our buddy, our pal. Ring, who’s a person in every way that matters, with hope and dreams and insecurities. Ring the “magical creature,” who, despite all of this, has more in common with Dark Influence than with any other creature in all of Ring Fit.

———

So here is the heart of my crazy theory.

Ring isn’t “partially” made of energy. He’s all energy, all the way down to his every last piece, whether it flows like a river or shines like a stone. And it could be that a long, long time ago, he existed much in the same way as the Dark Influence we fight in the game: as an unrestrained and formless entity. Not as a ring, but as a bright and brainless swathe of flames.

(Because if Dark Influence is insecurity and self-destruction and decay, balance would dictate its opposite be positivity, self-improvement, rebirth. A dangerously Bright Influence.)

And maybe it was just a natural process that got triggered when the conditions were right. But either way, somehow, someway, this particular Influence reincarnated into a shape that could better interact with people, without overwhelming or eating them. And that most natural shape condensed itself into Ring.

A baby Ring.

———

Even if you don’t buy into the existence of “Bright” Influence, Ring fully being some sort of life energy incarnate answers too many questions. It would explain why Ring is so good at manipulating exercise energy; it’s the most natural extension of himself. It would explain why Ring has the unique ability to sync with people; it’s how he originally used to exist, as life energy drifting in and out of living creatures. It would explain the aging. It would explain why Ring never mentions a parent or creator watching over him during childhood; because he came into this world totally alone. (Baby Ring belonged to no one before he belonged with Baby Drags.)

But Ring’s theoretical past life answers a few more questions. It could explain parts of Ring’s personality, his interests. (His dream of spreading positivity across the land.) It explains why there aren’t ten million Rings floating about, when coins and medals and chests are so relatively common. (Because there’s a key ingredient missing). It actually explains his five special powers. (Because I’m betting Influences have human-related origins. It’s either that, or “live humans being consumed” was part of the “perfect” conditions surrounding Ring’s birth. Which, cringe.) But more than anything, it addresses the sheer power imbalance happening between Ring and Dark Influence right now.

Dark Influence lacks boundaries and spreads itself like a virus, thoughtless and instinctive. Ring’s natural weapon against this thing should be to “infect” it right back. (I would expect some sort of sick light show to dance across Dragaux’s body during battle; yellow flames squaring off against purple.) But it doesn’t work that way. Ring the Person no longer works this way.

If Dark influence is a forest fire, then Ring is a fireplace set behind glass. At their core, these two are both energy. But the modes in which they exist divide them into separate skill sets entirely.

Dark Influence is wildfire of brute strength. It’s got range—in the spatial sense. It can spread to as many secondary hosts as Dragaux directs it to, so long as it’s fed well enough to reach for them. Compared to Ring’s measly one syncing partner, Dark Influence can sink itself into whole regions, can simultaneously feed off of so many people. It doesn’t have outright mind control powers; it’s more subtle than that. But its presence as negativity incarnate naturally works like a magnet to draw out the worst in people. There is nothing it enhances in a person that wasn’t already there, no matter how small the weakness. Coupled with the rush of power it imparts in its vessels, it makes bad decisions feel right. Even to good people. It’s, quite simply, a bad influence. (And then it consumes them.)

But other than that, Dark Influence doesn’t really do much.

Our bud Ring may only be able to light one house at a time, so to speak. But as contained as he is—Ring’s powers are more varied and nuanced, because Ring is more varied and nuanced. He’s always actively (and thoughtfully) applying energy to construct, convert, and amplify. For all its fearsome strength, the only thing Dark Influence can seemingly do on purpose, is feed.

———

(If Ring was once a being like Dark Influence, then that solves the final mystery of synchronization. If Dark Influence “infects” its host by sinking into the body, then Ring syncs with a partner by “planting” a piece of his essence inside them. This is why Trainee’s energy signature changes to mimic Ring’s; because she now carries a part of him in her beating heart. This is why Ring can freely access her energy; because this makes her a part of him now, too.)

———

So. Let’s pretend I’m not crazy. Say that all of these little details I’ve collected were intentionally laid out by the game developers. Say I’m correct, and that Ring really is, essentially, the child of Dark Influence’s greatest natural enemy.

The real question is: how self aware is Ring about all of this.

Because unfortunately, Ring not knowing his own backstory could be pretty on-brand for him. I love Ring, but from his point of view, it really could be that he just appeared one day, somehow—as an entirely clean slate. “Dark” or “bright,” these entities are brainless. Literally. No body means no brain. They can’t store memories, so they don’t have memories. Just energy.

Ring must know that he’s made from energy, too. He might even think of himself as one very lucky byproduct. But if this is really what Ring used to be (if there’s even a shadow of a chance that his predecessor used to eat people), then he might not know the full extent of his own story.

And maybe that’s for the best. I can’t imagine him choosing to get close to people otherwise. He loves people, cares so much about every single silly soul that he meets.

This would hurt him.

———

Whatever Ring’s origins may be, whatever he might have once been (if he’s ever been anything else at all)… I do know one thing. And it’s that I prefer him prefer him just the way he is.

Weird comments about my sweat aside, I wouldn’t have him any other way.

———

TL;DR: Our bud Ring has more in common with Dark Influence than with any other creature in all of Ring Fit.

If a flaming entity of negative energy can exist, then why not one made of positive energy? If positive energy condenses into permanent solids naturally and often…if Ring is made of positive energy…if Ring has more in common with Dark Influence than with anything else in this game…

Who’s to say that Ring himself, wasn’t once a flaming yellow mass of energy.

———

This marks the end. I could run wild with all the implications this theory leaves in its wake. But I’ve made my point. I’ve found every answer I was looking for. And they may not have been the answers I was expecting (or even wanting), but they’ve satisfied me all the same.

I’m done. Believe what you will.

Thanks for reading, and for sticking with me all this way. It’s been real.

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DISCLAIMER: My name is Pizzazz and I take this game way too seriously. This is all for fun! At the time of this post, I am on World 36 of the post game. I feel pretty strongly about my conclusions, but I’ll go back and edit this if/when/where applicable.

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RING ANALYSIS

Part 1: Synchronizing—How it Works and What It Tells Us About Ring

Part 2: Ring’s Powers—And What They All Have In Common

Part 3: Ring’s Biology and Possible Origins

[holycow99]

石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 2

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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*Someone asked about Choujin X.

I: I’ve given the manuscript for chp 8. It’ll be released in a few days. I don’t really have much to say about this. I wanna write this month’s goals for Osushi. The big plan is to fix(?) chp 8. Then, I wanna release another two chapters this month. Chp 8 has 20 something pages. I want to at least draw the chapters in a weekly pace. What I mean by that is I wanna draw 72 pages per month. If I could draw 72 pages a month, I drew 18 pages per week during Weekly Young Jump too. So, I wanna draw 18 pages per week, which is 72 pages per month. That’s the amount of pages for weekly publication. It’d be nice if I could draw at least this much by myself. If I drew 25 pages weekly for three weeks, It’d have a total of 75 pages. I can currently get it done. If I updated 3 chapters a month, I’d have a total of 70-something pages per month. Then, nobody will complain. It’s not like anyone is complaining. It’s so that I won’t complain to myself. This is directed towards me as a challenge. Of course, it’s okay if I couldn’t do it. It doesn’t matter if I can or can’t, I thought it’s better to have a goal.

C: And the fact that you’re streaming right now is amazing!

I: Right? I spent a lot of time at the end of August doing rectifications, plotting, etc. They’re all important things to do. Since I have a little bit of free time, I thought of streaming.

C: It’s okay to draw the chapters slowly. Do you concern about maintaining the quality?

I: The quality is as usual. I mean, that’s one of the reason. It’s also to match the quality of the work. The drawing style in Choujin X is different, so of course the drawing will be different too. There are things that have changed. I want to match the vibe of the work, and also, I wanna prioritise speed over the quality. By speed, I don’t mean I wanna write them in a hurry. I want them to have a quality that’s easy to balance. I’m still playing around with it.

C: Until what chapters do you plan to release the physical copy?

I: I can just release it. I do have a plan for it, like releasing 2 volumes altogether.

C: I’m okay with anything as long as you don’t collapse later on.

I: You’re exactly right. I’m doing it with ease. So that the serialisation will go well, I’m adjusting my pace. This is just my ideal, but I wanna serialise another manga. It doesn’t have to be serialised, I have another stuff I wanna release. I’m finding the time to make one. If I make it a rule to do other things after I’ve done 75 pages per month, I don’t have to draw more. I could use the time to do other stuffs.

C: Don’t push yourself.

I: I’m not.

C: Are you overworking?

I: Not at all. I have many hands.

C: Did you play JJ?

I: I played the game like hell.

C: Is it easier to not have assisstants?

I: That’s a good question. This is kinda weird, people say that your work will progress more if you have more assistants, but that’s not the case. I did TG without knowing that. People will ask you to check on their works. So, the more the people, the more the workload. There’s probably an appropriate number of people you should have. 4 people would probably be enough during TG. But there were more people, like the helpers, but they did regularly help. It was quite a lot. I won’t be able to do my own work when there’s a lot of staffs. I don’t have assistants for choujin X so that I can do it with ease, and umm… It’s the fastest way for me. Of course, I do think the quality of the work will increase if there are staffs. I’m trying to see if I can speed up my work to a certain extent without having to check on others’ works and consider about other people, while creating the quality contents I’m capable of.

C: Working alone or with assistants finish faster?

I: It depends on the stuffs you’re making. For choujin x, I think it’d be hard for me to draw them if I had assistants. It’ll be great if we can have divisions.

C: Are you gonna hire a care assistant? (t/n: The Japanese word is Meshistant, which means assistant who mainly takes care of the mangaka’s meal, chore, etc. So, I just put it as care assistant.)

I: Definitely no. I didn’t let my assistants do the chore. I even cleaned the toilet myself. I kinda hate it. I hate the label they give to such people. Meshistant. I don’t like people who call them that. I don’t mean you. I probably won’t be fond of mangakas who use that word. They’re your staffs, right?

C: Do you think of the story all by yourself?  

I: Yeah. Sometimes I do get ideas from my surrounding. But, most of it came from mine.

(t/n: I’m not sure if the last sentence is correct. I couldn’t really understand what he meant, but it’s something like that.)

C: I’m having a hard time to sleep. Recommend ways for me to sleep well.

I: Probably read books. It can make your eyes feel tired. Then, maybe by not sleeping? But you might think it’s better to sleep. I understand. I wanna keep trying to fall asleep, but then I’ll watch movies while lying down. I have trouble sleeping lately. I used to sleep a lot.

C: Meshistant is also an honourable job.

I: Then, why not just hire people who specialised in that. Like housekeepers. They have that, right? Something like a home helper. That is better, isn’t it? Using assistants who’re enthusiastic to draw manga to do stuffs like that is awkward for me.

*Someone commented about hiring maid.

I: Maid? Then, I’d like that. Hahaha. Should I hire a maid? I’m recruiting maids.

C: Even at the age of 250,000, you still have trouble falling asleep.

I: Yeah.

C: Are they hired to make meals?

I: Yeah. There’s various types of assistant in the manga industry. This one refers to an assistant in charge of meals.

I: What did I wanna talk about? Oh yeah, about Animal Rap. I’m thinking whether or not I should upload animal rap video during stream, but where is the file? I’ve decided to upload it after this stream ends. What was it that I wanna talk about? Can you tell me about my current status, such as about the Sui exhibition in Osaka and Nagoya, or about Ms. Towada’s illustrations?

C: How about a live rap?

I: Good idea.

C: About the plan for 30,000 subscribers.

I: That’s right 2x. We’re talking about what to do to celebrate 30,000 subscribers.

C: I can be your maid for free.

I: I’ll definitely pay you. If it’s for free, then you won’t feel your sense of duty. I’ll give a huge salary and pressure you so that you’ll work responsibly.

C: Ms. Towada can both write novels and draw. Amazing!

I: I also can. Hahaha. I also…ah, but I can’t write novels. I won’t lose to her.

C: Do you have double eyelids.

I: Mine is hidden one.

C: Appear in First Take.

I: I won’t.

C: Are your eyelashes long?

I: Yes. My eyelashes are long, I have hidden double eyelids, I am of medium build…but I’m already worn-out.

(t/n: He used the word ‘boroboro’. I couldn’t really find the proper word to translate it in this context. Worn-out is the only one I could think of that suits the context.)

C: Are you handsome?

I: Well…I’m pretty good looking.

C: Have you been going to the gym?

I: No, I haven’t, since I was busy with work. I wanna go though.

C: I wanted to go to Mr. Kunimitsu’s concert.

I: Me too.

C: Which one is more handsome? You or Kaneki?

I: Wouldn’t that be Kaneki?

C: How about another stream with Ms. Towada?

I: I re-listened to the stream with Ms.Towada. For some reason, she was laughing a lot in the stream. Though she always like that. It’s slightly embarrassing. She’s acting like she’s at home. It felt like she’s disclosing my family situation, so it’s a bit..., but I can do that again from time to time. When I wanna do something related to JJ, then I’ll call her. That’s the most suitable content.

*Someone asked him to invite his younger sister.

I: It’s impossible to invite my younger sister.

*People wanted Goubaru to be the guest.

C: Goubaru, huh?

C: Do you have someone you wanna invite?

I: No, I don’t. The corona is one thing, but I’m completely okay with not meeting people. I do talk to people I’m close with. I think that’s already enough. It’s not like I have someone I’m involved with. I do usually talk to Mr. Kunimitsu.

*People want Hanae Natsuki again.

I: Hanae? That’s definitely impossible.

*He’s talking about Japanese youtubers.

C: Can you beat boxing?

I: I’m practising at the moment.

*Currently taking about Japanese artists.

* Someone asked who he thinks could be the next popular artist.

I: Lately, I only listen to instrumentals. The one that I like recently is the girl band called Chai. The group’s vocalists are twins. The group is great. It’s not like I like the band because there’s someone who caught my intention. I listened to their songs first before I decided whether I liked them or not. I thought this kind of voice also exists.

C: Congrats for TG’s 10th anniversary.

I: Thank you. Thank you to Brazil as well. (t/n: Someone commented Brazil.)

*He pinned his Chai comment.

C: People who just came don’t understand what’s going on.

I: It’s okay if you don’t. Hehe.

C: Sensei, can you eat choco mint?

I: I can.

C: I thought the bgm was from Animal Crossing.

I: This is Yorushika’s Escape.

*Still talking about Japanese artists.

C: Have you seen Midsummer?

I: Yes, I have.

(t/n: He said something about the new evangelion movies. But I couldn’t really translate that part properly. He basically watched the Rebuild Evangelion movies from the start since he never watched it before. He planned to go to Yamaguchi prefecture, the birthtown of Evangelion’s author to watch the last movie.)

Y****: I’m reading Toro Hedoro! I recommend it!

I: I do read that. Don’t underestimate me! I do read One Piece as well, but half-way through.

C: You can watch the Evangelion movie on Amazon Prime.

I: I wanna watch the final movie at the cinema. Has the final movie come out? It has? But I’m still gonna watch at the cinema.

C: Have you read Tokyo Ghoul?

I: Nope.

C: I recommend Tokyo Ghoul!

I: Is that so? I have a story regarding TG, but it’s probably gonna be quite deep.

C: One Piece has reached 100 volumes!

I: That guy and Odacchi have reached 100 volumes, right? Hahaha. That guy is Luffy, while Odacchi is Oda sensei. Hahaha. I can’t call him that. Odacchi is Oda sensei and Kishikage is Kishimoto sensei. I see, that guy has reached 100 volumes? Way to go! Hahaha! No one is watching this anyway. I’ll properly lick his boots if he’s in front of me, since he’s the real deal. I’ll be very obedient and sucking up to him.

(t/n: Ishida was using the word ‘aitsu’ to refer Eichiro Oda. As far as I know, it’s an impolite way of calling someone older or in higher status than you in Japan.)

C: He’s scarier than Hikakin (a Japanese youtuber.)

I: Right. We are in the same industry after all. But I think Young Jump and Jump are different subsidiaries. Although, Hara sensei seems to have met with Odacchi, so maybe there’ll be an opportunity for me to meet him. But probably no. Someone like me won’t be able to meet Eichiro Oda sensei. I won’t meet him. He seems like a unique person.

*Ishida talking about an illustrator and youtuber called Saito Naoki.

(t/n: I couldn’t translate the first half of this part because they’re talking about something that had happened, and I don’t know the context of it.)

I: The name ‘Saito Naoki’ is very nice. Is it a pen name? It totally sounds like a real name though.

C: Are you close with Kishida Mel? (t/n: Kishida Mel is an illustrator and a character designer.)

I: I’ve never met him, but Kiyoppi, Kiyohara Hiro sensei and Melcchi are good friends. He’s like a friend of my friend. You have things like that, right? 

C: The name ‘Ishida Sui’ is cool!

I: I seriously wanna change my pen name. I wanna change to something like Gengoro. I wanna change to a manlier name. I didn’t give a thought about my name before. I used that name because I thought I was gonna be famous in the future, so I didn’t wanna use my real name. I seriously thought that I couldn’t become a mangaka if my real name was exposed. I was like “Since I’m gonna be famous, let’s avoid using my real name.” I was being vigilant about it, so I half-heartedly named my pen name.

I: The name Gengoro is nice. Tagami Gengoro. Tokyo Ghoul’s author, Tagami Gengoro. The Tokyo Ghoul’s author, Tagami Gengoro’s exhibition is now open. I’d definitely sounds like a bearded fatty. With round glasses to top it off. Isn’t Tagami Gengoro a character from a gay manga?

*Ishida searching for Tagami Gengoro.

I: Everyone, don’t search for it. I’m scared something dirty will appear. Is it not? Oh, it isn’t. what’s the name again? There is a character named something Gengoro, right? It’s Tagame Gengoroh! I got it now! Tagame Gengorohw as born in 1964 and a Japanese mangaka. He calimed himself to be a ‘Gay Erotic Artist’. This is the one! It’s Tagame Gengoroh sensei. 

*Ishida was looking at Tagame Gengoroh sensei’s illustrations.

I: This one. Wow, this is indeed gay! Hahaha.

C: I can’t believe it came out of your mouth.

I: Surprisingly, I do talk about these kind of stuffs. (t/n: I mean, he’s the man who wrote a whole R-18 chapter.)

I: So, I can’t use the name Gengoro, since there’s someone with this name.

C: Is the name ‘Ishida Sui’ an anagram of your Surname?

I: Yes, it is.

C: Are you gay?

I: Hahaha! Even if that’s true, you didn’t have to ask that kind of question! Let’s just say that I’m okay with both.

C: Kuso Miso. (t/n: Kusomiso is a gay manga.)

I: Of course, I’d be reading them (probably referring to gay manga). I mean, manga like Kuso Miso Technique are popular, right?

C: Ishida GayGoro.

I: Hahaha. That’s just gay.

C: You’ve been to a gay bar before, right?

I: Not at all. When I was hanging out with the staffs, Goubaru said he wanted to go to a Okama bar while crying.

(t/n: According to the internet, Okama is a term referring to guys who adapted female characteristics.)

C: I think it’s completely normal to be gay nowadays.

I: We’re talking about gay now. It’s not normal in the first place. It’s just a sexual orientation. If you pick on every little thing, everything will become a problem. Those who deliberately say they’re not prejudiced against gays are actually are. Even if you tell that to people, they’ll probably filter what they wanna say. They’d be conscious of every single thing they say. Things like that don’t matter.

C: Sensei, let’s talk about something else.

I: Why? I’m okay with it.

C: I’m bi.

I: Does it matter? It’s okay.

C: It’s difficult to say something regarding gender issues, right?

I: Well…It’s difficult, since it’s concerning your mindset. It doesn’t only apply to gender issues; you can hurt someone by making careless remarks.  It’s just that you sometimes accidentally let out your opinions. I also think I sometimes make unnecessary remarks, so I might do that.

C: I want to be embraced by Masataka Kubota. (t/n: Masataka Kubota is a Japanese actor who played as Kaneki in the live-action.)

I: That’s right. Must be nice. I want us to embrace each other.

Part 3

[johobi]

Falling, Falling, Gone

Word count: 5.8k

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: None really, it’s my first ‘SFW’ fic, though there is some extremely bad language in here. And there might be an erection because I can’t help myself.

A/N: This is the fourth and final ‘drabble’ for the drabble game I ran ages ago. Prompt: “The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you.”

Music inspo: Don’t Be So Serious, Baby Don’t Stop, Waste It On Me

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23477485

Taehyung. Captain of the soccer team. Master of your heart. You'll never tell him for fear of rejection.

So why the fuck are you about to do it in front of dozens of his peers?

Banana and peanut butter become pulp in your mouth as you glare out the kitchen window. It's so grey out there. Greyer than it has any right to be. As if your dour mood has polluted the very atmosphere. Rain lashes the exterior in leaden pellets, each one compounding your headache like a rap on the head. Don't be so serious, your bluetooth speaker croons as you chew and chew, unblinking. The bridge of your glasses slip further down your nose but you don’t correct them. Don't be so serious.

Oh, but it's all so serious. 

Your final portfolio lacks in ways your mentor is incapable of articulating, and you only have so much time to fix it. Your college life is coming to a close. There are frighteningly few opportunities out there and they’re sure to spurn a sham like you. What do you do now? Where do you go from here—

"God, you listen to such depressing music," a husky voice sounds. It’s thick with sleep and horribly attractive. You hear his feet next; big and bare as they slap the tile floor and disrupt the ambience. 

Yes, dismal is an ambience. 

Before you glimpse the interloper himself, his fingers pilfer your next mouthful of toast. His other hand has your phone and is skipping through your carefully curated playlist of moody tunes. With all the scant energy you can muster, you glower at him. 

“Taehyung.” 

Soccer captain. Campus celebrity. Doofus.

Unlikely friend and unlikelier crush. But life is strange, and he is both these things. Indeed, he proclaims himself your best friend to all who will listen. As for the matter of your tender feelings, however, he is oblivious. And will remain so.

Taehyung is long-legged and limber-bodied, but round of face and feature. A kitten in a tiger’s pelt. Will mew for affection and roar when angry. Has quite literally nudged your hand for pets and raged at referees in the same afternoon. There is usually no in-between. 

Your scowl goes unseen. He sidles past like the oblivious buffoon he is and continues to tamper with Spotify.  Smears his peanut-buttered thumb around your phone display. Ugh. You brush back your hood and fix him again with extra scorn.

"Actually, douchebag, it’s good music for thinking. And I have a headache. I hardly wanna listen to something like—no, don't you dare put fucking Party Rock on right now. Tae!"

It’s too late. The lanky idiot is already gesticulating to the beginning beats. Your phone is an unreachable hostage in his flapping hands. You’re about to lunge for it but he preempts the attack by smothering you with your own hood. “Tae.” Your whining sounds all the more pitiful muffled. “Everyfing hurfs. ‘m hungover. Pleathe.” 

Taehyung relents after further, strangled pleas. Unwraps you with a grin that grows like the sunrise. For a moment, you’re dazzled. “Sorry. No more torture,” he chuckles all low, hair in his eyes. His locks are long and always untamed. An aureate crown befitting of his celebrity status. 

One swipe and he’s muted the racket and returned your phone. You turn the sticky thing over in your hands, rueing the day you met the overgrown imp. “How did you get it this dirty…?”

You go ignored and Taehyung gets closer. He scrutinises your hunched and hoodied appearance with a thoughtful hum. “Headache?” A rounded nose and two brown eyes come into focus. "Hungover? How? I didn't see you go out last night."

Averse to such study, you shy away. "Well, I did." You did not. You stayed home and guzzled $4 Prosecco while lamenting your trash portfolio. But you aren’t about to regale him with that pitiful tale. The sheerness of shame prevents you. Taehyung would be so sweet about it, too! So buoying, with his sunny smiles and fervent encouragement: "Why were you crying over that?!" He'd ask. "Your work is amazing. Seriously amazing. I love everything you do!" He'd gush. "People will be stumbling over themselves to hire you!" He'd continue, naively. And that hurts the most, because he just doesn't get it. Taehyung is a sponsored, collegiate athlete that's graduating into a guaranteed draft. He is—and always has been—praised widely as up-and-coming. The kid has had scouts scrapping for him mid-way through high school!

You, however, are small fry, swimming in a shoal of other unknowns, leaping for the hook of internship. Your dreams of animating for Disney died long back. They dwelled with Walt now.

But you don’t resent Taehyung for any of it. Ever. He’s a paragon. Born for the limelight. Has sweat and bled oceans for it. And for some reason he insists that you, too, are deserving of that same renown. Why? He’s ridiculous. Far too kind. And—Christ, he has a big dick.

"Taehyung, can you please not shove your tiny fucking penis in my face while I'm trying to eat? I'm nauseous enough as it is."

The soccer captain rests a foot on the seat next to you, giving you ungainly insight into his crotch. Taehyung, as he often, inexplicably is, is clad only in his boxer-briefs. This would be alarming were it not so goddamn commonplace. He is allergic to clothes.

According to him, he’s a naturist. 

According to you, he’s an attention whore.

Taehyung points to his elevated foot, but it's a little difficult to ignore the bulge he's brandishing. "Do you understand the concept of inappropriate proximity and your current state of undress?" You rattle on, words slurred half by OJ, half by fluster. He simply points again, and with more insistence. Relenting, you follow the line of his finger to his pretty, if gigantic, foot. Then notice the ink around his ankle, black and fresh. "Oh, wow, you got a tattoo? Cool!"

"Yep! I didn't ever really think about getting one 'til I saw yours. They were so cool I became kinda obsessed with getting one. So I finally did it last night."

‘Til he saw yours? Your stomach flutters. It's not the nausea. You smother it with more orange juice. "Well, that's awesome, Tae. You'll probably want more eventually. I would've gone with you if I'd known you were gonna go alone."

Finally, he lowers his leg. It’s a small mercy. But then, for no discernible, earthly reason, Taehyung begins flexing his many defined muscles. His calves in particular catch your attention. They’re so goddamned thick. They ripple. Fucking soccer players. "Hm? Oh, I wasn't alone. I went with some guys from the team." He ogles his reflection in the microwave door.

How can you avert your eyes when his pecs dance so compellingly? It all becomes a bit too much. "Okay, what are you doing? Seriously, what? I know you're into yourself, but this is ridiculous.” He stops. Snorts. Thank God. “If you were with the guys, why did you come back here last night? I thought you’d go back to your dorm."

Finally Taehyung sits, but he’s spread-legged and that’s perhaps worse than what he was doing just now. He’s 6ft of pure, hewn sex and just so fucking casual about it. He reclines. "Some of them took girls home last night so I needed somewhere to go and you're always an open door." Finger guns follow a cheesy wink.

You scoff, but he's right. You’d do anything for the big-hearted clown. Open door? You'd be the doormat under his soccer cleats, licking them free of dirt— "You're lucky Areum isn’t here right now. Don't think she’d take kindly to having some almost-naked oaf clambering into her bed."

"You say that, but she’s tried to hit this several times.” Taehyung is smug, brows high on his forehead. Yours lower harshly. “Tell her I slept in her bed last night. She’ll cream herself thinking about it later, I guarantee you."

“You’re gross. And can you stop—why do you keep flexing? There’s just me here.” You peer about for emphasis. Taehyung is again admiring his form in some burnished surface. “No-one is looking. Or cares.” Contrarily, you’re doing both those things. But he needn’t be privy to that. 

"This is serious. I need to work on my angles.” He contorts himself into something of a pretzel to peek at his back muscles. “We're holding a hook-up auction at our dorm to raise money for a graduation blow-out. And I'm on sale. Do you think I need to work on my back?"

You ease into a squint. "When you said serious, I thought serious words were about to follow."

"I am being serious!" Again Taehyung flexes, biceps bulging by his ears like an overfed turkey’s thighs. "How much do you think I'm worth?"

The world.

"I dunno. I'd take you for free, I guess, if you were the last one left."

Taehyung is unperturbed by your acerbic wit. It ricochets off him like rubber bullets would a muscle-bound ox. He is your greatest adversary. The bastard lacquers his lips until they’re plump and glossy and boasting a smirk. 

He’s always doing this. 

Always moistening himself. 

"Oh yeah? Well, I think you'll be disappointed." A boxy smile emerges. "I got girls and guys already approaching me about it. Some of the guys literally just wanna buy me for mentoring. I mean, that’s more effort than kissing, but—" He shrugs. The thought goes unfinished.

"That makes sense. You are a God among these mere mortals, Taetae." It's not sarcasm this time. Taehyung senses it. The grin he returns is life-affirming. You're so close to reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. Telling him you're proud. Telling him you most likely, maybe, love him. But you notice you've dragged your sleeve through peanut butter—”Ah, shit,”—and you can tell him how you feel some other day.

Some other day.

"Some of them just wanna make out too, of course, and, like, I'm happy to comply. It's all for charity." His altruism knows no limits.

"Charity, huh?" You snort. Taehyung's mouth grows more square at your incredulity. "Who else is up for bidding, then?"

"Mostly guys from the team and dorm. There are some mutuals who just wanna get in on the action, too. Uh, you know Kim Namjoon?" He measures your reaction. When you give none: "Jeon Jungkook?"

Disinterest mellows your features. "Oh, right. Cool."

"So you don't like Jeon Jungkook?" Taehyung's eyes are eager, his body poised. Anticipating.

"What? No. What gave you that idea? I've talked to him, like, twice." Your face crumples as you towel your soiled sleeve. The peanut butter smears into a tragic, shit-brown stain. "Damn, that's never coming out."

"He's gonna be so disappointed. He might even cry." Taehyung heaves a hammy sigh and clutches at his breast. There’s nothing the captain enjoys more than clowning his subordinates.  "Kook likes you so much. He's really into your whole androgynous fuckboi thing you got going on. He literally said, 'She's like a mystery, man. I'm not sure if she's a girl or a guy and—like, I'm not like that, but that's hot.'"

If your eyes could roll past the bounds of their sockets, they would. "Wow, what a poet. He sounds like a douchebag and I'm even less interested now. Fuckboi? Is that really the vibe I give off?" You don't fuck full stop. Nor were you aware you could dress like you do. 

"I dunno. You just seem kinda like a gremlin to me. Or like that weird guy from Death Note," Taehyung is quick to reassure you. Cool. You’re fucking overjoyed that he perceives you that way. Not as a goddess, or his beautiful, sexy soulmate, or the princess that wanders the spires of his captive heart. No. A gremlin. Or L.

"Well, you got me there, son."

"What about Kim Namjoon?" Taehyung presses, urgent again. He picks at your bread crusts with one hand, head cradled delicately in the other. The boy could be a world-class model, too. His loose, dark curls hang like a Van Gogh nightscape, framing the planes of his unmarred face. It hurts to look at him. It hurts to be looked at.

A self-conscious shuffle. "What about him? I don't know who that is." You flick away his foraging fingers but he draws you into an impromptu game of thumb-war in retaliation. It's the only thing to extract a smile from you today.

Taehyung looks sceptical. "He's the physio student with our team! You literally talked to him all day during this season's semi-final." His lengthy digits best yours easily. But though the match is won, he doesn’t withdraw his hand. Instead he encroaches further. Thumbs your wrist. Encompasses your knuckles in a soft, warm palm. He’s clasping you like an enamoured suitor might their bashful sweetheart, and it’s very strange. What is he doing? His mind looks to be elsewhere, now.

"Uh...—oh. Oh." Yours ambles back to you. "Yeah, he was really nice, but you know my rule. No—"

"—dating in final year. Yeah, I know. I'll tell him that if he asks about you again." Taehyung has returned, too. His hand is gone. Your gooseflesh ebbs with it.

With a cough, you sober. "I think the auction's a bit stupid, really, Tae. You sure you wanna do it?"

"Stupid? Why?" He shimmies in close, smug on his face and intolerably naked the rest of the way down. His skin is hot and golden and just far too close. "You're only saying that because you're jealous, right?" He tickles your chin to keep you honest and your eyes on him. You seize and squeeze the offending hand because he might be right and now you’re embarrassed. "The thought of me making out with someone else is ruining you," he goes on to say, brazen as the smirk defiling his cherubic cheeks.

"Some rather large conclusion-jumping going on there," you smile, sweet as sugared cyanide. Your vice-grip tightens until he’s pouting in repentance. "I meant it's stupid to put yourself in a potentially uncomfortable situation if you don't want to kiss that person." 

"I'm just joking!" he whimpers like the overlarge puppy he is and you free him of his snare. Because you would die for this big, soppy boy and his big, soppy eyes. “You’re so grouchy today.”

‘The joke won’t land if it collides with the truth, Taehyung,’ you muse. You expect him to know this despite never having apprised him of your situation. You’re jealous and cowardly and completely unreasonable. You want him for yourself but you never want him to know that. 

If he wants your candour he should be a telepath. Simple.

Irritated by your own nonsense, you lash out at the unsuspecting boy. "You know what? I was joking, too. I remember Namjoon, he was hot. And smart. I think I'll cheat on my dating ban this once and bid on him. He has super nice lips, so." 

Taehyung simply smiles. "Oh, okay. Cool! Glad you’re gonna come along." 

Your threat proves ineffective because he doesn’t like you like that. Wouldn’t give a shit if Namjoon rawed you on stage while you stared him down. You stall on that thought because it’s kinda hot. “It’ll be great. Can’t wait to get my tongue down his throat.”

“Hell yeah! I knew you liked him.”

Yep, Taehyung is oblivious to your pining. As he should be. Because outwardly, your pining consists of nothing more than the odd, lingering look here and there. The balled-up sketches of him he will never see. A secret smile if you’re feeling particularly sentimental. Other than that, you're steely. Poker-faced. Rarely blind-sided by his allure, especially now that you've acclimated to his penchant for exhibitionism. 

 "Thank you in advance for your patronage." Rising from his seat, Taehyung comes to a stand behind you and leans. Encircles your shoulders with his terribly athletic arms and puts his lips to your ear. You're like a feral cat in the arms of a senseless child. You're bristling. "If he turns out to be a jerk and tries something he shouldn't, I'll protect you." For a moment, you're touched enough to unclench a little. "With these guns." And then you choke between his straining biceps and vie to repay him in kind.

----

The common room of Taehyung's dorm has been crudely transformed. Some questionable construction has taken place in order to build the catwalk centrepiece. Sofas and tables line the walls, thrust from the limelight. You've occupied the drinks table for the last 45 minutes, from the second you entered this place. You harbour an intense dislike for the chaotic energy of Taehyung's dorm. Machismo rages noisily between these walls and you much prefer less testosterone-drenched environments. Nevertheless, despite it all you're here on an endeavour this evening. One your idiot, rampant mouth has obligated you to. To buy time with a guy that's perfectly nice and all, but isn’t Taehyung.

Kim Namjoon makes eyes at you from the head of the runway, awaiting his musical cue. The beer you just slurped down bubbles up. You have to look away. Unfortunately, when you do, Taehyung is immediately there, his face in yours, his thumb and fingers pulling at your cheeks. "Hey you, don't get too drunk, okay? I don't trust a single man here. Especially not nice-as-pie Namjoon." 

Nice-as-pie Namjoon has chosen some Bruno Mars track by the sounds of it. The auction-goers' excitement ramps up considerably.

Unable to move your captured face, your eyes sweep the room. "Not even your own teammates?" you scoff cynically, swatting at his hands until he’s baited into a game of slapsies. "Now who sounds jealous?" 

Taehyung stops for a moment, thoughtful. "You know, you're right. I'm extremely jealous. I want Namjoon all to myself. He gives the best massages. And a happy ending when I ask nicely." And then he's back to rough-housing you, slapping your upper arms to alternating beats. "You look cute tonight. Your outfit, I mean," he offers up out of nowhere, so quiet you almost lose it to the bass. "He's lucky."

But you look exactly the same as you did earlier that day. Exactly the same as that afternoon in the cafeteria when he ribbed you for raiding Billie Eilish's Good Will donations. "Um, thanks. I guess." You're genuine, but don’t sound it. You can't look at him for fear of revealing the dopey grin that has hijacked your face.

"You're welcome, buddy." A large palm flattens your hair. His fingers get all in there, ruffling it until it probably looks more akin a bird's nest. Is Taehyung trying to sabotage you? Also, buddy? "Look, Namjoon's walking." 

You turn and see that he is. Strutting, moreover, albeit awkwardly. It's obvious that the lanky boy is unaccustomed to the same attention the team he services is. Nevertheless, there are whoops and hollers aplenty for the handsome blonde dork, and you, too, catch yourself smiling. How can you not, when he pokes at his dimples so? The others seem captivated, too, though less by the  finger-hearts and more by his form-fitting tracksuit. 

“I’d wrap my car around a tree if he was the tree,” one auction-goer confides to her friend. “And then I’d wrap my legs around—”

“Yeah, we get it Lisa.”

Lisa quiets. 

Namjoon’s endless legs sidle to a stop at the catwalk's end, directly opposite you. His bespectacled eyes meet your bespectacled eyes. For one, long second, the interest is palpable.  But then he breaks, and casts his gaze down to his FILAs. 

"Okay, he's, like, in love with you, I think," Taehyung whisper-yells, hands aflurry in applause. "Are you gonna bid?"

Shouts puncture the cheering either side of the room.

"$10!"

"$20!"

Neither of them are you.

The evening’s auctioneer - Taehyung's partner-in-slime Park Jimin - echoes each cry that rings out, giggling into a tinny karaoke mic. "$20 for our team physio?! Is that all you got ladies and gents? Do I have to remind you this guy can grope away pain with his magic hands?"

Namjoon spins toward Jimin's makeshift podium of an upturned bookcase and menaces him with his eyes. Well, it would be menacing were the man not as threatening as a ribbon-wrapped basket of newborn sloths.

The striker backpedals. "Okay, the massage might not be included, but don't let that deter you! He kisses like a pro!"

Screams of how do you know that, Jimin?! erupt and the throng grows ever more wild. Namjoon is redder than the cup you're strangling.

"Are you gonna bid?! You're gonna miss your chance!" For some reason Taehyung is still here, harassment game still strong. He should be preparing to walk next, but sees fit to pester you instead. And because of that, he's caught you in your lie, bare-faced and blushing.

No, you are not going to bid on Kim Namjoon.

"Uh, oh no, I forgot my purse," you grumble around the rim of your next drink, gulping it down like the bottom is your way out of this God-awful situation.

Then what are you doing here?

"It's right there." Taehyung pokes the cross-body bag hanging traitorously by your side.

"Oh, is it?" You reach for another cup even while burdened with one. Anything to sidetrack this conversation.

Taehyung intervenes with a firm hand. Swaddles your knuckles ‘til the shaking stops. You’re shaking? Beer slops over the sides, unnoticed. “___?”

Stupid, warm hand. And why are his fingers so fucking delicate for a footballer? He should model jewellery. Wedding rings.

Yours.

His ringless fingers close around your wrist when you persist in avoiding his gaze. The ruse is almost up. Fuck. There’s nothing left to do but to look at him. 

You do, ever so timidly. “What?”

"What are you doing?" Puzzlement becomes him well. Why is he so goddamn handsome? "If you aren't gonna bid on Namjoon, why did you come?"

Silence, but for the pump of background Bruno Mars.

‘You. I came for you. You were the plan all along. Not him,’ your mind screams.

You, however, just stare.

"Going—going—gone! Sold for $70! Come claim your kiss!" Jimin can hardly stop himself from squealing. For a guy that beds girls on the daily, his sincere excitement over simple lip-locking is amusing.

Taehyung's teammates hail him from the drapery behind the catwalk but he won't yet go. No, he insists on searing holes into the side of your face while you watch Namjoon get sloppy on-stage with some girl you don't know. They're really getting into it. Damn, he forgot about you quick. In  their fervour they edge towards the bounds of the catwalk, too absorbed in one another to notice. Thankfully, voyeuristic bystanders are on-hand to catch them before they fall.

"Kim Taehyung! How many times do I have to call you?! Get over here before I kick your fucking ass," Jungkook roars across the hubbub, halfway through the room. He  enacts the violent gesture for emphasis and knees some unsuspecting girl in the ass. Immediately the macho facade drops and he's all doe-eyed and buck-toothed, prostrating himself before the girl who actually seems grateful to have been assaulted by one Jeon Jungkook. Between his hushed apologies, Jungkook shoots Taehyung a look something murderous. And then he sees you and throws a shy wave, the kind a little kid might when cajoled by his parents.

"Ew." The word comes up involuntarily, like bile.

A deep cackle emanates from beside you. "Okay, guess I'm up." Taehyung squares his shoulders. His mouth, too. He's a very angular boy. "Better get my kit on. Cheer for me!" With a pat to your shoulder, he makes for Jungkook. Leaves you with an insidious dread. His soccer kit is your weakness. 

No, he is your weakness.

"Next up - and I'm sure most of you here tonight are anticipating this guy - our very own Team Captain and soon-to-be Major League Soccer player, Kim Taehyung!" Banshee-shrieking reverberates at Jimin's announcement. "Stick around, he'll be out in a few minutes!"

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. You turn from the catwalk and fully embrace the drinks table, supporting yourself with two hands and God's grace.

Nah, you aren't gonna do this.

No way.

This wasn’t an actual plan. Just a fantasy.

You're not gonna tell him like this.

You're not gonna tell him ever.

All you have to do is just say you turned out to support him. You rarely get to go out with him anyway, what with his ever-growing entourage. Taehyung would appreciate that, and he'd never have to know that you came here for cornier purposes.

You're not a big gesture kind of girl.

Nah, you aren't gonna do this.

Distantly, you wished Areum were here. She'd have slapped some sense into you, maybe even literally.

No. Wait.

The devious cow would've talked you into doing it. For sure. She has a flair for the dramatic.

"Sorry, can I just—thanks." Someone with offensively bony elbows bulldozes you aside and passes a drink to her companion. An apology is on the tip of your tongue but evaporates into the ether upon seeing the twosome in question. Both were complicit in the casual bullying you endured during your high school years. They don't appear to recognise you now. Not that they even spare your pitiful person a glance.

"Who's up next?" the worst one queries, cup snug to her bosom.

"Taehyung," the lackey answers, glee upending her petulant features. "Kim Taehyung."

An elbow jabs you again as the girl struggles with the clasp on her clutch. Her overlong claws impede her. "Oh shit, already? I thought we had more time. Shit."

"Nope. It's go time. Hurry up, girl, competition's gonna be fierce." The other one watches her digital acrobatics to get into her purse.

Oh God. She has so much money. There's no doubt in your mind she'll trump everyone present.

No. Oh, no.

Not her. Not with him.

Your mind flits through premonitions of the future. They’re all  rather grim. The last one is that of a wedding. A marriage between this dreadful bitch and your most cherished of friends, Taehyung. It's garish and tacky - she's denied him input, of course - and the ceremony is filled with faces that once mocked you mercilessly. None of Taehyung's friends are there; indeed, he is no longer even part of his team. Her possessiveness and his undying loyalty have put an end to his blossoming career. He looks sad beneath a mask of happy. Eyes that once blazed with the embers of ambition are doused by despondency. He is a husk.

And their first meeting is this auction, this cute anecdotal encounter of oh, I just had to have him, and when I kissed him I knew.

Just a glimpse at this dystopian future disturbs you silly. Conviction, while tentative, burgeons in your heart.

You can't let her have him. Anyone but this noxious cunt.

And suddenly you've money in hand, too. Bills you withdrew specifically for this purpose, and yet would sooner have left them crisp and cold in your purse than followed through. But public humiliation is endlessly preferable to damning Taehyung to a kiss with this serpent. Because it won't stop there. It won't just be a kiss but an appeal for more. She’ll say it’s no strings attached, but she doesn't attach strings. She weaves webs. You recall her high school boyfriend. He was a well-performing, jovial guy that always waved hi. And she consumed him, heart-first, ‘til he was naught but a sunken-eyed zombie. He took a leave of absence that never ended.

Sexy, dangerous synth sounds from the speakers either side the catwalk. Ah, shit. Not that song. Any song but that one. NCT U’s Baby Don’t Stop. Of course Taehyung picked that. It fills the air with a fatal drum beat and in he comes through the curtains, strutting like he is the rhythm. The room, rather than become uproarious, falls eerily quiet. Everyone breathes as one entranced being, and no one moves but him. Halfway down the catwalk he body-rolls with the fluidity of wind-rippled satin, burgeoning from his chest and snapping at the hips. Prospective bidders gasp, as do you. And then his thumb is in the hem of his shirt, luring it upwards, exposing his olive expanses inch by mouthwatering inch. You see his abs near every day, but in this context, backed by that song, you find yourself as winded as everyone else. His stomach tautens for show, feeding into loose-waisted shorts that sit far too low. Even you haven’t been privy to this much. And especially not the alluring trail of hair that thickens at his waistband.

Someone shatters the stupor and screams, “$80!”

“Geez, you’re a horny bunch.” Jimin’s laughter peals. “We already have $80. Any advance on—“

“$100!” Some breathless sap cries next. “Oh my God, look at his thighs!”

And look you do. Taehyung grooves at the catwalk’s end, shirt back in place but hiking up the hems of his shorts instead.  You almost glimpse groin. He’s absolutely shameless, straining the muscles of his thighs until they’re lewdly pronounced. They’re veritable tree trunks. His calves, too, defy belief. Rock-hard and rounded and begging to be bitten. The party-goers crowding round his feet must think similarly. 

What distracts you most, however, are Taehyung’s straying fingers. They skirt his crotch in a salacious manner, stretching the material where it shouldn’t. Accentuating things they shouldn’t. You may pass out.

All the while his eyes are down, maybe closed. You want to see his face more than anything. The playful smirk on his plump, wet lips and the focus in his brows. 

“$120!!” You almost lose your head to a cash-strangling fist beside you.

It's her. Pointy-elbowed bitch.

But you aren't thrusting your student loan up just yet. You're in the middle of an almost holy, revelatory experience. Taehyung is still undulating and provoking the crowd, who are no longer hushed but whooping like chimps in heat. His shirt is off and helicoptering overhead. He allows one overcome girl at the sidelines to verify the thew of his biceps and bags himself another bid. You, however, do nothing but gawp, bills clutched to your chest and your eyes affixed to the glorious grin that breaks across his face. His eyes open onto you and then it's you you see at his wedding, standing afore him, bouquet instead of a wad of cash. You want to be the one. Now is the moment, while he's watching you envision this.

"$200,” you splutter. Volume is difficult when your voice is a quivering inconstant.

"What was that? Did we just get another bid?" Jimin wavers too, out of disbelief. "Did someone say $200?!"

The room is a clamour of confusion but Taehyung watched you mouth the very syllables. The shock is such that it softens his salacious movements to a dance more modest. His eyes are wider than you've ever seen them; mouth too. It hangs agape and downturned, as yours does. Because you're not quite sure whether you said something else altogether. Maybe you hurled a cuss word out of frustration? Did you momentarily black out and proclaim Hitler did nothing wrong? Nothing else can account for the scrutiny with which he punishes you with now.

Or.

You actually did bid, and that's why he's walking over, to the very drop-off of the catwalk, no longer any swagger to his step. "What are you doing?" he calls down, the music still strong and now strangely inappropriate. You simply watch the mole beneath his bottom lip move, dumb.

Louder, now, you call again. "$200!"

"Oh! It was a bid! ____?!" The flame-haired MC shares his puzzlement with the rest of the reacting room. All heads turn toward you.

But yours turns nowhere but Taehyung, your expression an open book of long-hidden liking. You watch, suspended by dissociation, as he lays a palm flat against his chest. "Me?"

It could all still be explained away. A joke. You drank too much. You just wanted to see the look on his face. Instead, you grant him the minutest of nods. A simple tip of the chin. "You," you whisper, whether it's heard or not.

Taehyung sees it in the shape your lips make. And then his gaze sweeps back upward, his chest heaving far too much for a man standing stationary.

"What's going on?" The disgruntled echo each other.

Jimin is quick to make sense of things and keep it rolling. "Okay, so, a bid of $200! Anyone else?"

A new song comes on; it's gone on too long. Something with a cantering beat that's adequately sentimental.

So if love is nothing more than just a waste of your time—

Clambering atop the platform, you counter someone's desperate bid of $220 with a measured breath. "$250." You hold Taehyung at fingerpoint. "You."

Waste it on me.

For a pants-shitting second, nothing happens. Your outstretched arm gains a tremor that could crumble it. Taehyung sifts your soul with his big, dewy eyes and then he's walking. Stalking toward you. Knocks the money from your hands and seizes your shying face with both of his. The last thing you see is his nose mole before his mouth joins with yours. His grip is like a vice and his lips are no gentler. They pry you open with little effort and then you're flooded with wet heat. Taehyung is insatiable in pursuit of your tongue. His hands drop to draw in your waist, your chest, every inch of your overclothed form. He's underclothed but burning hot, planes of honed skin beneath your fingertips. It's all so right. Feels so good. Taehyung moans that much into you when he chances a breath of air. Applause starts up as the music swells. It's so cliche but you've never had a cliche of your own before and your gloom-ridden ass needs this.

"Going—"

"I didn't know. I wish I had. This would've happened sooner," Taehyung gasps between desperate, too-short smooches. It proves too difficult to resist the pull of your mouth and he captures it again, sloppier. Slower.

"Going—"

"It doesn't matter." You pull the oxygen in, impatient. "Doesn't matter." Your fingers are a tangle at the nape of his neck, tugging on his lustrous locks. "Make up for it."

"Gone! Sold for $250!"

The two of you won't be parted for a moment. Not even when dismounting the platform. There's ruckus around you but it's so distant when his lips are on you. You sink into him like you would a scalding bath. "You don't have to pay that," Taehyung tells your cheek, smearing his saliva-slick mouth back to yours. His greed for you manifests against your stomach, and you ache in return. "This is a freebie."

Your passionate clinch takes you to the sidelines, away from prying eyes. Most of them, anyway. "What about this?" Your hands are suddenly in unseemly places.

"Th-That's also free. Everything's free. Oh, God."

[transsexualhamlet]

asmr i psychoanalyze my favorite war criminal, aka calling out norman the essay

basically all of my thoughts on norman on one callout post because i care him (both manga and anime are discussed)

LINK TO RAY PSYCHOANALYSIS:  https://chaoticgaymess.tumblr.com/post/646749875570196480/ray-81194-the-long-explanation 

this is going to be ungodly long so here’s a keep reading, essay below the cut

((tw for suicidal ideation and self harm, brief discussion of eating disorders))

Disclaimer: no shipping is included here this is just about norman also they’re kids who call each other siblings

Thoughts: So you may be thinking, Rowan, why do you yell about the colorless war criminal so often? Well the answer lies in your honor the court hates to see a girlboss winning. Norman is a girlboss :) Yes norman is a tiny twink who can't lift a milk jug. And he is a girlboss :) Obviously I don't condone, um, eugenics and all, but that's not the point the point is that he satisfies my need for more characters like Levi motherfucking Calder from Unwind because I’m apparently an edgy 13 year old. Also all of his problems are violently things I can fix and I keep him around as a pet project because someone needs to give him a hug and slap him on the face

I diagnose him with things: 

-pisces man :pensive:

-is he albino? Not literally. Is his skin so pale he would catch fire if he went outside at noon? Yes.

-autism: Yes I’m aware that calling him autistic makes him, problematic rep by perpetuating the autism unfeeling savant stereotype whatever but have you considered i’m autistic and I’m projecting also he’s L with standards? Anyway traits of AuTism he has: hyper   fixation, canonically breaks and fixes things over and over because like ofc he does, doesn’t understand Emotion, hyperaware of body language at the same time as it all somehow flying over his head, low empathy, sensory experiences™, min maxed in certain areas, and I don’t think he’s got social interaction quite right? There’s something off about it

-gifted kid (derogatory) This is self explanatory but basically him being the smartest and the best in a competitive environment caused most of his issues, such as the perfectionism, the need to succeed, the lack of self esteem and ridiculously high expectations on himself, giving himself no breaks or time to relax, the “i must be productive with every second of my day or i will die” deal, the “peaked at 11” thing, the way in which he goes through life like there’s going to be a fucking test on it

-Eldest Daughter™ lmao. Norman’s always had to be mature, he’s always had to be the best, he’s always had to do the things Ray got out of bc he’s a snitch and Emma got out of because Isabella likes her. Norman gets respect from Isabella only if he excels, and her bar for him is astronomical. He doesn’t have the Mommy Issues that Ray has, but it’s because for him Isabella basically just reflected his expectations on himself, whereas with Ray it was more personal.

-low empathy (part of the autism thing): this one needs more explanation, but it’s not a bad thing in and of itself. Cognitive empathy is a thing and he can use it, but he does not instinctively understand other people’s emotions, or even recognize them properly, especially when the person is not like himself. This is obvious in Emma. Man has no fucking clue what’s going on in her head or why she does what she does, but he can predict what she will do in any given situation very well. He could understand the suicide attempt from ray he predicted more because Ray’s an easier equation to solve, and someone who’s more similar to him. I know he gets it because, well, motherfucker’s just as self desctructive as him, just in a more dignified manner.

-he’s got some sort of chronic illness. This is also me projecting and a headcanon but he’s got something going on, even before lambda pumped him full of growth hormones or whatever which they maybe should have Not Done but oh well. (I assume this just didn’t happen in the anime, since he’s still so fucking short) But he's So weak. He passed out when it was too hot. He passed out when it was too cold. He can’t open a pickle jar. His skin is too pale and he’s skinny af. He’s much more prone to sickness and probably has asthma too? But in the case that he did actually have something going on, I don’t think grace field would see the need to treat it, if it didn’t impact the quality of his meat? Isabella’s probably just “you have chronic pain and you get migraines? Great, take some tylenol and do some calculus.” Can’t say that probably helped anything.

personality type: ISTJ

Basically, he’s the most boring personality type to exist, and personally as an enfp i do not respect him. But basically this means he’s a fucking nerd that gets his projects done for school the day they’re assigned, is probably the president of the Anime Student Council™, and could probably get away with premeditated murder (ok actual istjs this is a joke don’t skin me)

The only trait that norman doesn’t have on the istj thing is telling the truth. Yeah, he values the truth, but like, that doesn’t apply to him, clearly. Bitch is a notorious liar.

The only other personality type he has any similarity with is intj, which is the same except it’s more rare and a purple theme instead of a blue theme. Sadly, that’s not him though, because although he can care more about some kinds of philosophy overall this isn’t the case and ray already occupies this personality type tbh. 

strengths and weaknesses: This one’s kind of obvious, but he is aside from the crazy insane intelligence good at planning. Extremely good at planning. He can predict any outcome and figure out how to prevent it, using all his resources. For example he’s physically weak and someone could literally just walk up and stab him, but it doesn’t impede his progress on his goals because he’s surrounded himself with strong, mentally inferior people who would die for him in a heartbeat. He never gets stuck in some “everything is shit and i can’t do anything” deal like Emma and Ray do, he always works through it and has confidence in his abilities (in as much as he will solve the problem or die™. Weaknesses other than his twink body include his Low Wisdom score. It’s funny how he’s often associated with an owl, the mans is 14. He thinks he knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t. Plus obviously his fundamental misunderstanding of so much of everything going on around him, the fact that he lies not just to the world but himself, his refusal to take care of himself and his incredible cowardice. His achilles heel is being forced to, actually confront his actions.

what he likes about himself: He does pride himself on his mental abilities, and his judgement, which in his opinion is the only correct opinion and the only correct way. In the past, he likes being seen as a leader, he likes being responsible for other people. He likes his ability to manipulate and lie, because he sees it as an asset, and I honestly think he enjoys being william minerva more than he enjoys being Norman. He prides himself on his unhealthy expectations and the fact that he is able to meet them. Honestly, he does think he’s better than everyone else, mentally, though it’s humbled by his self hatred. Cursed thought: If Norman had self esteem he would be light yagami. 

what he doesn’t like about himself/insecurities: Oh god, nearly everything. His appearance, his status, his superiority, his physical inability, his own mess of a mind, also have I mentioned his appearance. He’s obsessed with self control. He wants everything he sees wrong with himself gone. And I understand why having control of everything is necessary and appealing, everything for him has always been rigid and planned out from moment one, he was even more regulated in lambda, and though he desperately wants to Not Be Food, he has no idea what to do with the chains now that he’s broken out of them. So he just wraps them around himself. Regulates to an unhealthy degree when he sleeps, what he eats, when he actually takes even minimal care of his own problems, what he looks like, how much of himself he lets show, the expressions on his face, the literal thoughts inside his own head he will shut down if they are not Correct. It’s literal self harm. Norman, please stop it.

motivations/goals in life/general philosophy: To be honest, I’m not sure he knows what he wants. He sure thinks he does, he could sure give you a memorized answer, but it means nothing. He wants to excel. He wants Emma to be happy. He wants to be perfect and for that to make everything perfect. But he doesn’t realize everything he’s working towards will do pretty much the opposite of that. He’s a crippling perfectionist, and pretty much everything he does is motivated by his fear of failing. He picks the certain path, he doesn’t wait for anyone else, he doesn’t care if it’s not nice. Emma foils that a most of the time because he cares about her, but it can only go so far, especially after he’s had so much time without her to develop a Complex. His philosophy is very contradictory, basically the tokyo ghoul “everything bad that happens to you stems from a lack of ability”. All of his problems are his fault. All the world’s problems are his to fix. If he can’t fix them, it’s his fault, it’s because he wasn’t strong enough, and not being perfect condemns someone forever, including himself.

how he’s perceived by others vs how he actually is: In most people there wouldn’t truly be much of a difference, but with Norman things are different, because, well, most of his personality in grace field is a put on, as well as the tough guy dictator thing he radiates after lambda. How he appears to someone is determined by the context of their meeting- the kids at grace field see him as a nerdy, weakish, pretty boring kid who is really caring and kind. The researchers at lambda see an obedient, beaten down and perfectionistic boy. The lambda kids see him as an infallible leader, ruthless and genius, a good man who knows what’s right. But in truth none of that is him. It’s a fucking chess game to him, putting on different faces, lying and pretending and treating everyone differently. In truth? He’s a fucking coward. He’s scared out of his mind and he’s tired and he can’t take pain, he’s obsessed with reaching some goal he deems is necessary that in the end is going to be his death because he doesn’t want to face the consequences of his actions. He’s taken on the role of someone evil, though deep down he’s not, he feels it’s easier to live that way because it strips him of his conscience. 

interpersonal relationships: In general, Norman sees all relationships in a pretty dim light. He sees everyone as black and white, for the most part, and other people make no sense to him intuitively, he has to figure them out like a puzzle. He’s manipulative and not particularly kind, but he follows all societal expectations to a T, overly focused on his appearance and placing the person he’s interacting with into a Category™. So he can be truly kind, to people he feels deserve it, to people who he values and doesn’t see flaws in. He gets incredibly attached to people he loves, protective, though he often doesn’t take their own feelings on the matter into consideration, and he’s ruthless with anyone who he deems a bad person. With people he understands and relates to, though, things can be different. If he sees someone as like himself, he will drop all the social interaction police bullshit and cut to the chase of whatever he wants or needs from them, and he’s not very forgiving in any manner, if he thinks what someone did is actually bad.

Emma: Norman obviously cares a lot about Emma, and honestly views her as better than anyone else. He realizes her moral integrity and all of the things she has and he doesn’t, and admires it. Because of his black and white view, Emma is like an angel to him. She couldn’t do anything wrong if she tried. But he comes to treat her as something to be protected instead of respected, and although he realizes she wouldn’t like what he’s doing, he fundamentally cannot empathize with her and doesn’t try to understand her. Their personalities are very literally opposite. Norman really needs to fucking listen to her. And Emma needs to understand that Norman doesn’t have a single ounce of empathy and you really do need to spell it out for him. Emma can only convince him when she has logical reasons for her actions, which she, doesn’t often have. And Emma gave Norman too much slack, because she didn’t see past the surface, and Ray never wanted to warn her, even though he knew the dude was showing a bunch of red flags, because you know. It was kind of an unspoken deal between them. (on ray’s part)

Ray: His relationship with Ray is a lot more complicated than with Emma. He understands Ray, where he doesn’t understand Emma, and he can see right through anything Ray does. And this makes things really tense between them, because Ray doesn’t, take kindly to being psychoanalyzed. If someone perceives him he will deck them and Norman is just there silently perceiving him at all times when Emma doesn’t see it. They are both constantly in competition with each other, but they care about each other a lot, though it’s kind of in a derogatory way. They both recognize each other as fundamentally fucked up, and silently agree never to bring it up with Emma. They’re nice to each other when she’s around, but all pretenses disappear when she’s gone. Ray is always frustrated with Norman, because Norman’s never been intimidated by him, and though he tries his best not to be vulnerable around him, Norman can always see through it, whereas Ray can’t crack Norman’s fake fucking smile no matter what he does. Norman will always take Emma’s side, and doesn’t see Ray as a good person at all, but he still understands and can excuse him, he takes measures to be… worse than Ray, which is better in his mind, because it’s rational, and ‘not selfish’.

Isabella: She has always had ridiculously high expectations for Norman, and treats him kind of harshly compared to the others. Bitch has heat stroke and Isabella’s first question is a calculus problem instead of like, “are you ok”. She knows he doesn’t complain about anything ever and she doesn’t stop him from being Terrible to himself, because it makes her job easier. They want smart kids, not mentally adjusted kids. She does really care for all of them, but she basically overrides it, she gives them what they want, not what they need, lets them be exactly what they’re making themselves. Isabella is distant with Ray but gives him anything he wants, she’s close and super nice with Emma, but Norman is… it’s weird. Isabella is proud of him because he meets her astronomically high bar. But at the same time, Norman never really cared for her that much and has never pretended to. Once they discover The Thing, though, he has a revelation, and it doesn’t take him long to switch his entire perspective about her. He’s pretty much like. Oh. She’s like me. That explains it, time to treat her like I treat myself: fucking brutally. Passive aggressive as hell. The kind of energy the :) emoticon at the end of an email gives. He does like just go “yeah we should kill her” at one point, which. You know, ok. When he got shipped out it was hhhh really interesting because Isabella knew full well he knew he was walking to his death and Norman was like “are you Truly Happy?” and just went :) and she was like h u h and tried to get him to talk while they were walking there because she feels Bad about it and he just. Did not. He didn’t say a single word just kind of smiled menacingly at her and I think it was half a sort of rebellion and half because he viewed her as similar to himself and therefore felt no need to put up any front with her, no words were necessary for him to impart exactly how he felt about it

Lambda kids: His relationship with the lambda kids is weird and bittersweet. I think he really truly does care about them, they were in a similar situation to his and he wants them to get what they want. However it is not a healthy or beneficial relationship, they see him as a god and don’t realize that he’s killing himself to give them what they want, he’s basically adopted them when out of anyone norman’s the one that should least be in charge of kids. I think he’s honestly younger than them but I’m not sure if they even know. He acts like their fucking mom, and that’s from what he thinks mothers are like… like isabella?? Giving them what they want, not what they need, lying to them, showing a front, caring deeply for them but at the same time using them for his own ends. And it’s not helpful for him. He thinks he knows what they need, but what he’s doing is what they want. What they need is therapy,(and so does norman), and he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with using them as weapons because they love him. It makes him feel good, to be seen as perfect, to have people who don’t know how weak he really is. But it’s only making him worse, and he’s enabling everything the lambda kids are doing wrong as well. They need like, Yuugo and Lucas. Some actual adults who are actually wise and have the ability and the knowledge to take care of them and understand their mental problems and maybe actually address them. And actually be nice to them. But um sadly. 

what he’s doing wrong: It’s pretty obvious, but… Norman, you maybe *shouldn’t* commit genocide? You’re not helping emma, you’re not making anything better. You’re not helping the lambda kids, you’re enabling them. You’re not helping your friends from grace field, you’re ignoring what they want. You’re not helping the world, you’re eradicating an entire race from the face of the earth and murdering the poor for the crimes of the fucking 1%. You’re not being a martyr, you’re a selfish piece of shit liar you little coward, you just want an easy way out and you want to die on your bloody fucking hill instead of admitting you’re wrong. Grow up, cringe little man.

why he went wrong: I think most of the reason this happened was the way he was raised combined with the kind of person he is. Norman would have turned out fine, if there has been good adults in his life who actually cared about his well being. Instead he got people who just wanted to control him and make him what they needed, and family who largely didn’t realize there was anything wrong. Ray being an ass to him most of forever probably didn’t help but well, that’s just Ray. Even then, he would have managed alright if he escaped with the rest of the kids because he would never have been separated from the experiences that caused the rest of them to realize demons weren’t all evil. In lambda he didn’t have anyone supporting him or telling him when things went too far, so he fell into relying on himself alone, pushing himself further with absolutely no limits. All he saw was enemies and allies, and things got stratified. He never had a lucas or a yuugo or mujika when he would have needed it, instead he found children who wanted him to be in charge and a world that made it so he had to be. Everything was an echo chamber for his worst thoughts, so they just became more and more dominant.

what he needs: To put it simply, he needs Emma and Ray to cut to the chase and slap him across the face and make him take care of himself. He needs to be forced to see everything for what it really is- this edgy 14 year old committing atrocities to feel better about himself? He needs to be told that what he’s doing is irrational, because in reality, it is. There are better solutions that he’s ignoring, both to his own suffering and the demons, and the way he’s going now no one will truly be happy because of it, that there is no requirement that things be perfect and this bullshit doesn’t make him stronger. He needs someone responsible to take the fucking dagger out of his hands. He also needs someone to babysit him and make him go to bed at a reasonable time.

i describe his personality through songs on my spotify playlist for him:

-outrunning karma by alec benjamin: this one super applies because it calls him out for making shitty decisions, being manipulative and a liar, and having blood on his hands in a very calm and subdued manner, that he knows this is wrong and yet he chooses to keep running faster and faster towards destruction, that he means to escape it through death

-empty by boyinaband and jaiden: yes this is a song about anorexia yes it also applies to norman i’m not saying norman literally has an eating disorder (but honestly it wouldn’t be far out of character if he did) but metaphorically this applies to his method of ignoring his needs, both emotional and physical, in favor of seeming in control 

-toxic thoughts by faith marie: this one speaks to his gifted kid trauma. Man’s got perfectionism running his entire soul. He’s terrified of failing, because he’s always been at the very top, he’ll beat himself up over any miniscule mistake and forces himself to keep at bad habits that keep him Productive, but he won’t ask for help no matter how much he’s suffering because that would be failing, he fights with his mind, this song basically tells him “yeah i feel you but you need to stop that”

-no time to die by billie eilish: ignore the romantic overtones but this is emma and norman, emma who trusted norman and was lied to, betrayed, for norman’s greater good, and norman who refuses to feel or hurt because of it, who refuses to apologize or see himself as wrong, pushes forward because he’s going to Pass Away

-achilles come down by gang of youths: hhhhh it's like. His vibe. Obviously you can disregard the lifestyle specific shit but it's. It's achilles come down you have to understand it’s like the same deal as friend, please just like french and longer

-friend, please by 21 pilots: i feel like i don't have to explain this one but it’s more to the manga (not the anime where he kind of figures out he done did wrong by himself instead of committing unforgivable sins and still going yeah this is valid before emma is like holy fuck). He is like sorry emma I cannot fix anything I’m going to die :) *coughs blood* and emma going like stop it stop it stop it fuck you see you fucked up and i forgive you just stop don’t walk away while he’s like “no<3”

why im a repressed little norman kinnie even tho he’s my exact opposite: I don’t generally kin ppl like norman, honestly he’s an infj I have no clue how it happened but I’m pretty sure it’s because of my intense desire to project onto a little man who cannot lift a milk jug and has chronic pain and decides you know what I AM tired of being nice i DO wanna go apeshit. Also he’s a twink. A little bastard. He’s a terrible person and I go mood every time he does anything. I said mood when he fell out of a tree. Don’t know what this says about me, I swear I wouldn’t commit no genocide. He’s like the inverse of Yoichi Saotome, and somehow i kin him too. Damn.

Miscellaneous headcanons:

-man’s SO attached to his william minerva cloak. He’s a wispy little bitch, you know he’s wearing that thing inside the house, he’s fucking cold. It also makes him Look Important he can retreat into it like an emo middle schooler with an oversized sweatshirt

-although you could probably get Mad street cred from having two whole brands you know he’s not gonna whip it out and show off his lambda thing he’s incredibly self conscious and his chest hasn’t seen the sun in years

-norman’s got MAD laundry skills to be able to wear like, all white all the time while constantly murdering people. I think he’s the only one who knows to do the laundry. And Ray is the only one who knows how to cook.

-but even then there’s gotta still be a few questionable stains on that thing, but if anyone asks he’s like “ketchup” “I’ve literally never seen you eat anything with that much color” “ketchup :)” *coughs blood*

-he’s probably thought “well i have not literally coughed blood yet today so I am not legally obligated to take care of myself”

-He probably adopted much of his current personality from taking on the persona of william minerva. I’m calling him out for being like me, he’s a blank motherfucker, he absorbs personality traits from characters he plays! He’s just not in theatre so it’s a bit more intense!

-the first time he sees barbara Eating Demon Meat he kinda stares and goes oh cool! not for me and violently exits the room. Like it's hilarious bc he thinks that's really gross on a moral level though he understands why she would do it 

-Which is even funnier bc I’m not sure about the canon on this but there was That Chapter Cover that one time that kinda seemed to imply norman eating demon meat which i absolutely latched onto because I’m terrible. He was just politely eating it. With a knife and fork like why dude. As to a possible reason for him doing that I can come up with, of course barbara does it out of spite, but man we don’t know the properties, if it had some sort of painkilling aspect to it or it was like, caffeine, you know he would, but he would Definitely not talk about it

-I kinda disagree with what the anime did in episode eight? It was good I liked it and the imagery was fantastic but also have you considered Norman could not kill someone with his own hands if he tried, or even physically injure them? That’s what his minions are for shawty. That doesn’t make it any less bad, of course, but the manga captured it perfectly by the fact of he carries around a dagger and a scepter in the capitol battle, but he never even raises it out of more than intimidation. He walks through calmly like he’s not scared at all but he makes sure all the lambda kids do all the actual murder, he just stands there impartially, clearly The Mastermind, as the kids fucking murder the queen of the demons. And I think that’s more profound because he’s, a coward. And he doesn’t realize being the one who orders the strike makes you just as responsible as the one who sticks the knife in someone. The knife is just there to Compensate™  for the fact that he weighs like eighty pounds.

-he’s more of like lady macbeth (because he’s a girlboss) than macbeth himself. He has blood on his hands, but it’s the kind of blood that you can’t wash off. He never killed anyone himself, and he cannot admit he never would have been able to.

-the last thing is that there are definitely epic things about the anime, episode 8 was my favorite so far, goddamn that imagery and the bitch walking through the city while it burns down with the screaming asmr going on behind him my god. We stan. But like the downside of, letting Emma and Ray get to him before he commits first degree murder makes the whole thing lose a lot of his value. In the manga (oh my god look at me being a pretentious manga fan please) it fit more of his ideas- he never backed down, and he planned for Emma coming and trying to stop him. Of course he wanted Emma to stop him, he wanted it with all his fucking heart he was pleading for it to happen but the man wouldn’t give himself what he wanted if he was held at gunpoint. He knew she’d come and he made absolutely sure she wouldn’t be able to stop him. So when she came and he said “you’re too late”??? It kind of said it all, in the fact that he was disappointed that he got his way. He still thought he did the right thing, but deep down there where he shoved all his thoughts and feelings he desperately wanted to be saved from himself.

So yeah, those are my thoughts. Feel free to eviscerate me if these are not Correct he is just my favorite girlboss who I feel the need to yell at