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shihalyfie · 4 years ago

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A meta and analysis on Yagami Taichi

Being the face of Adventure and arguably the rest of the franchise, Taichi has the honor of being an important figure in the realm of shounen anime overall, which has the unfortunate side effect of very often being described with things that don’t actually match him at all -- the way people often talk about him (especially mainstream press) tends to portray him like a stereotypical shounen hero who charges aggressively into everything and is hot-blooded all of the time. That’s not...quite on the mark.

I think “impulsive” is certainly a correct way to describe him, but in a very different way than one might think -- and, in fact, Taichi is much more of a multifaceted character than he’s often pigeonholed as. How? Well, let’s talk about it!

Taichi in Adventure

The main reason it’s probably incorrect to call Taichi “hot-blooded” by nature is that, in actuality, he is far more often too chill than otherwise. It’s not that he aggressively charges into everything without any rhyme or reason! Rather, it’s more like he takes everything very easily and has a “don’t worry about it!” attitude.

In fact, I think our friend the Animation Chronicle explains it better than I can:

If he doesn’t know/understand something, he acts while he tries to figure it out...

So in other words, rather than our conventional version of “being impulsive” meaning beelining to the most aggressive possible action, rather, it’s more like “the first thing that pops into his head” -- even if it’s a fairly easygoing or relatively harmless-seeming solution, he just goes for it because it sounds like it’ll work and he doesn’t see any reason why not.

That said, it’s also made abundantly clear by multiple sources that his ideas do come with some kind of consideration:

From the Animation Chronicle: “He appears to move with reckless abandon, but he actually does take in his surroundings and he takes good care of his juniors in the soccer club.”

From the Adventure novels: “Taichi treated everyone without discrimination, as equals. That attitude of his didn’t change, even towards Koushiro. If Taichi hadn’t invited him, Koushiro was sure that he would have never gone to summer camp.”

Sora and Koushirou even back this up personally in Adventure episode 16, when Koushirou points out that Taichi had always been kind to his juniors, and Sora recalls an incident when he’d foregone an opportunity to score a goal because he’d known Sora was more likely to pull it off successfully.

So in other words, Taichi is, fundamentally speaking, not someone who does things for personal glory, but does want to work for other people’s sake. It’s just that, in trying to carry that out, he has a tendency to default to the first thing that pops into his head. Or in other words, Taichi’s primary way of thinking is “act first and figure out the details later” -- and this has both good and bad things about it.

Firstly, the fact that Taichi has such an “action-first” philosophy means that he’s capable of acting very practically in situations when others would freeze up. A very good example of this is Adventure episode 21; after angsting for half an episode considering quitting the fighting and enjoying his life at home, the moment he realizes that everyone else will be in danger if he leaves everyone be, he immediately instinctively steps in to help everyone. It’s not necessarily that Taichi doesn’t feel the stress or danger of fighting; it’s just that when he sees the practical impact of people he cares about getting hurt in front of him, all bets are off, because he needs to help people now.

The second thing is that, as Koushirou points out, he’s very kind to his juniors, and people in general -- he doesn’t really pay much mind to things like seniority, and is more concerned about treating everyone in accordance to their practical capabilities. This means that he’s someone who has a certain sense of charisma, especially since he’s appreciative of people’s abilities.

This is best indicated in Adventure episode 28, when two important things about Taichi are brought to the forefront:

Taichi’s natural charisma and ability to appeal to people makes him someone good at “bringing people together” -- indicated by the fact that the group hadn’t taken long to completely fall apart after he’d momentarily departed in Adventure episode 20, but came back together after he’d rallied them. The Adventure kids, coming from rather different social circles and backgrounds, were not originally the type to stay together or be particularly tight with each other by default, and so, during the first half of the series when they still had ways to go in terms of having any kind of meaningful bond with each other, they were unconsciously dependent on the charismatic Taichi to keep them together.

Taichi is a “natural leader” in every sense -- “leader” meaning not only someone who pushes people forward, but also someone who recognizes others’ abilities and is willing to delegate rather than trying to do everything by himself. This was briefly demonstrated in Sora’s Adventure episode 16 flashback when she remembers that Taichi willingly gave up the opportunity for a goal when he understood she could do it better (it’s reflected in his soccer position, too), but also here in Adventure episode 28, he gives the task of solving the card puzzle to Koushirou because he (correctly) determines that Koushirou, not himself, is best equipped to do the job. Also note that the episode makes clear that everyone agrees to it specifically because Taichi appointed him to the position -- much like how “understanding everyone’s abilities and delegating properly” is an important and necessary skill for a leader, everyone trusts Taichi to make that decision, and therefore trusts in Koushirou because he was appointed by said well-informed decision.

So those are the good things about him. What about the drawbacks?

The first is that Taichi is, unfortunately, a little emotionally insensitive. He doesn’t mean badly, of course -- you can’t deny that his penchant for teasing or trolling people makes him quite a fun person to be around -- but he tends to lack a bit of emotional insight and is prone to crossing the line with his remarks. Again, this is a symptom of him being too chill about things at times; he tends to react with “what’s the big deal?!” -- a statement that one should absolutely not say when arguing with someone, and which tends to get Taichi in hot water, especially with Yamato.

While the trope of “the shounen hero and the cool rival often having friction” is quite common in anime like this, Adventure’s play on it is actually quite different from how it would usually be played elsewhere. In most other shounen anime, this kind of relationship would have to do with something like the hot-blooded protagonist wanting to charge in and the cool-headed person wanting to be more “rational” about it, but in Adventure, Taichi and Yamato are pit against each other due to reasons that have to do with emotions. Yamato, contrary to what his character archetype might suggest, is someone who’s openly passionate and emotional, and is also someone who goes out of his way to care about others and their welfare -- so he often gets into fights with Taichi because he perceives Taichi to be insensitive and not putting sufficient thought into the others.

Yamato’s reactions are certainly extreme -- Adventure episodes 9 very clearly depicts him as the one losing control of his emotions and escalating the argument with Taichi to a full-on fight, whereas Taichi wanted him to calm down -- but he’s not fundamentally wrong in that this is an aspect Taichi needs to improve about, because it is true that Taichi tends to take the first suggestion of “what’ll get something done” that pops into his head, but also has a problem of vastly underestimating how dangerous things might be.

Again -- and this is very important to stress -- it’s not that he doesn’t care about others, and it’s not that he’s unaware of the dangers around him or the potential for repercussions! As Sora says in Adventure episode 16, he is conscientious of his surroundings and aware of potential risks. He has always put thought into his actions, and he doesn’t just charge into things with no rhyme or reason. He just has an abysmally poor sense of judgment, because he’s so naturally chill that he thinks “it’ll be fine, don’t worry!” -- and thus starts stubbornly locking down on what he wants to do because he’s so sure it’ll be fine and that everyone (usually Yamato) is overreacting.

If you want a specific example about Taichi’s tendency to misjudge: in Adventure episode 9, Taichi and Yamato get in a fight when Yamato perceives Taichi as too insensitive about Takeru’s potential welfare, which weirds Taichi out because Yamato’s being awfully overprotective. On its face, it might seem hypocritical because we later find out in Adventure episode 48 that Taichi is just as overprotective of his own sister, but it’s important to note that in the relevant episode, Taichi states that he has to go out of his way because Hikari continually fails to vocalize whenever she’s hurt or in pain. This implies that Taichi sees Takeru as someone who’s clearly capable of taking care of himself because he expresses himself better (and thus, Taichi doesn’t understand why Yamato has to go out of his way for him). Indeed, Takeru ends up latching onto Taichi because he sees him as treating him with the independence that Yamato won’t -- but Takeru has his own very deep-seated emotional issues that he just happens to be very good at hiding, and while Taichi is certainly always looking out for Takeru, he never seemed to have become aware of this problem.

This difficulty in judgment leads into a certain pattern of behavior that Taichi exhibits that only comes up in very specific situations, but is so consistently depicted that it’s basically an inherent trait of his: what I call the “Yagami Taichi stress response”.

Taichi is the kind of selfless person who prioritizes others’ welfare over himself, and there are times when it will often fall into almost self-destructive levels. (This is a trait he actually shares with his sister, although the two of them naturally deal with it in very different ways.) His first priority is “helping everyone”, and especially “helping anyone who’s in trouble” (especially when it’s happening right in front of him). Which means that whenever he feels that others are depending on him for something, he ends up often taking too much responsibility for everyone’s welfare, and starts cracking under the pressure.

Because Taichi is the kind of person who prioritizes “action first” and figuring things out as they go along, this means that his reaction to stress is basically becoming a completely unfocused mess. Or, in other words, he lets the thought of but we have to do something!! completely consume his head, methodology be damned, and he starts panicking and doing everything in every which way to get it done, to the point he starts lashing out at others or becoming an emotional wreck because of the stress. The first time we see this is Adventure episode 16, where, being the only one with a working Crest and feeling that he and Agumon have the responsibility of protecting everyone, starts pushing himself and Agumon to carry everyone’s burdens, resulting in everything going wrong and the dark evolution to SkullGreymon at the end of the episode.

Again: It’s important to remember that, even at his “worst”, Taichi’s main priority is helping and protecting others, which means that his way of responding to that stress is basically determining that he’ll take all of the responsibility onto himself. That involves things like forcing himself to “work harder for everyone’s sake”, or becoming dangerously self-sacrificial, or at least allowing himself to become an emotional wreck because as much as he knows better, his one strongest thought is always we have to do something!!

Taichi exhibits more of this behavior in Adventure episodes 48 and 49, to the point he gets unusually aggressive with Koushirou (which is also explicitly pointed out as him not acting like his usual self) once he starts panicking about Hikari’s welfare. Again, note that all of this stems from we have to do something!! -- he basically starts panicking because despite Koushirou clearly doing the best he can, once things start going south, it’s just not enough.

So, speaking of things going south: because Taichi often misjudges situations, whenever things go wrong, he takes it badly. This is someone whose first course of action is to “act first and work it out as we go along,” but the number one thing he can’t stand is seeing other people get hurt, and so when other people do get hurt because of the consequences, Taichi shuts down -- for instance, when he learns that his ploy to attempt to get Greymon to evolve ended up hurting Koromon and everyone around him in Adventure episodes 16-17, and when his taking the Digital World too lightly (taking Koushirou’s explanation of it being “like a game world” at too much face value) ends up getting Sora in trouble and his own life in danger.

Which leads to a certain degree of irony: Taichi’s behavior isn’t normally out of solely recklessness -- mainly really poor judgment and a tendency to underestimate things -- but when he does slip up and start having to deal with consequences, he does become reckless. But because this recklessness is out of a desire to “not let anyone else get hurt”, it results in him being reckless specifically with his own welfare -- he’s the kind of person who “takes too much responsibility onto himself”, and his way of responding to the issues of “someone might get hurt” and “but we have to do something!!” means that he, by default, responds to everything with “okay, then I’ll be the one who gets hurt!” Or in other words, his solution to preventing other casualties while still doing something to help others involves becoming dangerously self-sacrificial. Because in the end, Taichi is the kind of person who hates seeing people being in trouble or hurt in front of him, and his instinct is to always protect people, no matter what.

But, again: Taichi’s way of “action first” is not a fundamentally bad thing -- remember, Adventure episode 21 established very well that this trait of his is very good for bringing him out of his biggest bouts of hesitation, because he has a very practical understanding of the need to fight in order to prevent more casualties. This is especially because the final arc of Adventure deals heavily with the concept of “collateral damage”, or the question of how to handle fighting to save people, when people are inevitably hurt (or, in this case, dying) in the process.

Yamato accuses Taichi in Adventure episode 43 of not being conscientious enough about the friends they’ve lost in the process, but once Yamato succumbs to his resentment and personal beefs and starts selfishly picking a fight with Taichi in Adventure episode 44-45, Taichi indicates that he is keeping his fallen friends in mind -- it’s just that, to him, not continuing the fight is an insult to everything they’d died for (especially because, indeed, more people will get hurt if they don’t do something).

And, ultimately, in Adventure episode 50, Taichi does conclude that Yamato, Jou, and Mimi are right about one thing: while he’s always been right about them needing to do something, they do at least need to be careful about how they go about it so that they don’t incur more sacrifices along the way. Fortunately, Taichi is a soccer captain and perfectly capable of quickly coming up with a suitable plan on the fly (he even cites it in this episode, and in fact had already demonstrated an ability to come up with tactics when necessary back in Adventure episode 20) -- it’s not that he’s never been able to do flexible thinking, it’s just that his natural tendency to be “too chill’ about things and overestimate the efficacy of the first thing that popped into his head was something he needed to learn to think through a little harder.

And so, the final episodes of Adventure indicate him finally starting to tap into his capacity for that -- thus truly becoming the definition of the Adventure group’s “leader”.

Taichi after Adventure

We learn in Our War Game! that Taichi still has a bit of a way to go in terms of the “emotional sensitivity” part, most notably when Taichi starts getting defensive when he accidentally disrupts the computer connection, and Koushirou (most likely correctly) pinpoints this insensitivity as the likely reason he and Sora got into a nasty fight prior to the events of the movie. In fact, while Taichi already clearly had some shades of this in Adventure, when his “teasing” of others or stepping over their boundaries could sometimes go a little too far, it’s especially indicated here that Taichi is very, very bad at dispute resolution, because he keeps trying to deflect blame for his own actions and indirectly accuses Sora of being the irrational one in regards to their argument. (Again, for anyone entangled in a dispute with a friend: “dismissing the other person’s feelings” and going for the ad hominem, instead of at the very least acknowledging them in the process of making your point, is the number one worst way to handle this.)

Of course, Taichi wouldn’t have gotten this far if he didn’t have the natural charisma to compensate -- again, he’s fundamentally someone who cares about other people and attends to them. But, unfortunately, he’s still bad at knowing how to deal with other people’s emotions and learning to deal with them with proper empathy...

...So, in fact, it’s striking that the Taichi we initially meet in 02 is someone who, most of the time, seems to come off as very mature and put-together. The fact that he so willingly turned over his goggles to Daisuke at the beginning of the episode is a really huge deal, frankly -- even if you don’t subscribe to the theory that there’s any major sentimental backstory to it a la V-Tamer, that’s still an item he’s kept on him since he was a tiny child and clearly must have a huge amount of attachment to, yet he immediately handed it over to Daisuke the moment he felt Daisuke was worthy of it.

It’s actually quite a bit of a swerve for those of us used to the more “playful” Taichi who sometimes took things way too lightly, but it’s also important to realize that this is the Taichi that Daisuke and his friends see. This is especially in light of the fact that Daisuke starts off the series with a very severe inability to be assertive, so Taichi, who’s always been naturally assertive from the get-go (almost too much sometimes), is everything he is not, and therefore admires.

Taichi is still Taichi, which means that he’s still subject to the Yagami Taichi stress response, and he gets very close to blowing up angrily at the others when they show up late. But unlike how he had a whole train of being rather out of control when emotionally compromised in Adventure episodes 48-49, he gets himself together fairly quickly and admits that he also didn’t want to force everyone to come if they didn’t want to (to the point where he had even thought about going alone with Hikari in the worst-case scenario -- again, note the tendency for self-sacrifice and putting responsibility on himself).

We also see him about to lapse into it again at the end of the episode, when he freezes up because he’s not sure about what to do in regards to the potential of hurting Agumon in the process of getting him back -- but Yamato manages to get him back on his feet, rather literally, and with a punch to the face.

This punch tends to be really often misinterpreted as if violence is just a fact of life when it comes to Taichi and Yamato, but it is very, very important to understand the context behind this scene and how it differs from the two’s relationship in Adventure. Whenever the two fought back in Adventure, it would be a very vicious argument with the two genuinely angry at each other, and with Yamato accusing Taichi of being insensitive and thus becoming hostile and resentful towards him. In this scene, however, Yamato has become conscientious of Taichi’s own feelings and reasons for hesitating. This is evidenced by the fact he only does a single punch and holds out his hand to Taichi right after -- said punch was strictly meant as one meant to snap him back to reality, and Yamato holds out that hand knowing that Taichi will not take it as anger or resentment, but rather “I did this because you needed something to get you back into focus, I know you also know this and won’t take it as an insult, and I understand your feelings and want to help you.”

It’s important in establishing the level of deep trust Taichi and Yamato have where they understand each other’s positions now without fighting over it -- the two of them even point out in the next episode that the reason they can get away with this is because of how much worse they used to go through before, but now, the two of them treat each other with mutual sympathy, understanding, and support, and devoid of condescension whatsoever. And because of that, Taichi is able to “snap out” of his hesitation much more quickly than he would three years prior, because now he has Yamato’s emotional support, and Yamato even frames the situation in a way the “we have to do something!!” Taichi would understand: if they don’t do something, Agumon will continue to be the Kaiser’s slave destroying everything that he himself would never want to see destroyed, and even if they end up accidentally losing him in the process, it would arguably be a bigger mercy to him than it would to let him continue in this state. It’s all very practical reasoning that works best with Taichi’s way of thinking, and because of that, they’re able to push forward into the events of the next episode.

But just because he’s become more mature doesn’t mean he’s lost his characteristic charisma or ability to be playful or a tease -- after all, Taichi has always had a penchant for a bit of a smug personality, sometimes even bordering on the petulant. This especially comes out when he’s with Agumon, but, really, Taichi is a person who really likes fun.

On another interesting note, however, Taichi sends Sora off in 02 episode 38 when he’s very heavily implied to have caught on that Sora is about to confess to Yamato, and pushes her on without giving her grief for it. Regardless of whether you subscribe to the theory that Taichi has his own unresolved feelings in the situation, the important part is that he understood that this was a grave enough situation for Sora that this did not merit teasing her or insensitively poking into her feelings on it -- in other words, it’s a huge contrast to Adventure episode 26 when he was clearly at a loss on how to deal with her when she was emotionally compromised, and Agumon and Gabumon commented that he wasn’t as mature as Yamato in dealing with this.

But now, Taichi is much more capable of showing actual empathy for others and understanding when it’s the time to hold back on the teasing or potential insensitivity, and for that, Agumon compliments him on the same maturity he’d failed to express three years prior.

By the time we get to Kizuna, the fact that Taichi is one of the lead protagonists is for obvious meta reasons (he’s the protagonist of Adventure, after all), but it also makes sense that a movie centered around the millennial existential crisis -- and, specifically, the issue of career uncertainty -- would have him as a major player in it. Remembering that Taichi is fundamentally the kind of person who operates as “act first, deal with it later,” it makes perfect sense that the terrifying pressure of dealing with something as vague and uncertain as career pressure would be something that Taichi would continually put off. Again, Taichi is a very practical-minded person who usually works best with things that are clearly happening in front of him, so “wide-ranging” things are things he plays badly with.

Despite Taichi being very clearly depicted as “out of it” for this movie, at the very least, certain fundamental personality traits of his haven’t gone away -- for one, he’s still one of the most expressive characters in the movie (to the point many a fan has commented on his jackpot of facial expressions) in terms of petulance, sometimes getting a little defensive, and driving poor Koushirou a little nuts with his tendency to be reckless with electronics. He also gets a bit cocky during the battle with Eosmon, which, again, tracks with his tendency to do that every so often (and to be fair to him, everyone was guilty of severely underestimating Eosmon at the time, so it’s not like this was a major miscalculation on Taichi’s part).

Moreover, much like in 02, Taichi and Yamato are understanding of each other’s feelings to the extent that Yamato is the first person Taichi calls to dump his feelings about his existential crisis over. Even though they’re still prone to some mild bickering at the beginning of the movie, they immediately go back on high-fiving terms right after, so it’s a very far cry from the time back in Adventure when Yamato would look down on Taichi for being insensitive.

But here, we have this one line that basically represents the source of all of the problems Taichi ends up going through in this movie, including the reason for his loss of Agumon: Taichi is trying to “force” himself to become an independent person, and in the process is pushing Agumon away, and, on a more metaphorical level, his own self.

Taichi moved out of his parents’ house under the pretense of not burdening his family, but Hikari’s comment about their mother wanting him to drop by indicates that it’s not likely they necessarily wanted him to move out -- and despite that, Taichi is miserable in his daily routine of walking back and forth from school and working at a part-time job and eating convenience store food. He’s clearly lonely, yet he won’t allow Agumon into his room (it’s stated that his visit midway into the movie is his first time here). He keeps his old goggles and Digivice, yet he shuts it in a drawer and only opens the drawer to stare at it from time to time, and when Agumon finally does visit and finds his AVs, Taichi freaks out and pins it as an “adult thing” before he finds himself in the awkward situation of basically gatekeeping his own partner with a societal standard he doesn’t even understand.

I should point out that the AVs are not strictly porn, if you want to be really technical about it; it’s “gravure” videos, involving a cosplayer dressing up in sexy/high-exposure outfits and striking suggestive poses, but it’s not actually explicit porn. Moreover, a toned-down version of this scene exists in the Shueisha Mirai version of the novel, where the issue is not about AVs but rather the fact that Taichi only has alcohol in his fridge -- absolutely nothing non-alcoholic, despite how impractical this is -- because “[he’s] an adult, after all.” So the point of this scene is that Taichi’s being performative, or in other words trying to do Adult Things because That’s What Adults Do. And since a Digimon partner is representative of the inner self, and especially established in 02 to have relevance to one’s “less dignified and more childish dreams”, Taichi looking down on Agumon, i.e. looking down on himself, becomes the reason why he ends up losing him at the end of this movie.

As things get worse for Taichi and the crisis escalates, we actually get another glimpse of the Yagami Taichi stress response -- Yamato confronts him on whether he’s okay with going in to save all of the Eosmon victims despite knowing what’ll happen to their partners. Taichi, frantically (Hanae Natsuki’s voice acting really sells it here), has an emotional outburst and professes that, no, of course he’s not, but, again: they have to do something!! Because in the end, Taichi is a selfless person who understands that bad things are happening to people now, and the important thing is saving them now and dealing with the consequences once that’s done with, and even Yamato admits that, as much as he hates it, this is the correct answer.

Taichi does, unfortunately, lose Agumon at the end of the movie, but there are multiple indications he’s already on his way to getting him back, given that Taichi’s starting to address all of the problems he was neck deep in at the start of the movie. In the middle of the movie, after having shut his goggles in the drawer all of this time and only pulling it out whenever he was depressed, he decides to embrace the courage they initially symbolized and puts them back on his neck, and when we reach the climax of the movie, he uses Hikari’s old whistle to wake everyone up. This needs to be distinguished from all of the “nostalgia” everyone else had been drowning themselves in by looping themselves eternally in old memories from a desire to never move on from them; symbolically speaking, Taichi’s blowing of the whistle represents acknowledging the important things in your past, and making productive use of them to move onto the future, rather than the unhealthy reactions of either drowning eternally in nostalgia, or performatively shutting everything out about your past in a bid to reach some arbitrary standard of adulthood.

Hence, Taichi’s thesis -- the one he had failed to write at the beginning of the movie -- is only filled out once Taichi embraces that past version of himself, because his thesis summary is about reflection on his past experiences, and making use of those to think about how to apply them to the future.

This is, obviously, intended as a lead-up to the 02 epilogue in which Taichi becomes an ambassador -- or in other words, someone who indeed specializes in “bringing humans and Digimon together” and offering proposals on how they can coexist in the future. Agumon, of course, is an important part of this job (look at his suit and bowtie!), instead of Taichi shutting him out and treating him like someone who doesn’t belong in his adult life.

Of the careers depicted in the epilogue, Taichi’s is the most “furthest-reaching”, since, as a diplomat, he has influence over a pretty huge range of things, which fits with Taichi’s tendency to shoot for some pretty high things -- and, also, conceptually, it works well with what we’ve always known since Adventure to be Taichi’s true specialties as a “leader”: having the charisma and understanding to bring people from different places together, and to lead them all forward.

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #kizuna spoilers #yagami taichi #taichi yagami #shihameta

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toosicktoocare · 4 years ago

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AU where the Avengers don’t know that Spider-Man is Peter Parker just cuz

inspired by a fantastic ask about concussions from @carley-carley-carley (hope it’s okay that I tagged you!)

“Young man? Young man, are you alright?”

Grunting, Peter drags his head away from the insistent tapping against his cheek, an almost rhythmic, steady pressure that jerks up his temple to spread across his forehead. The pressure isolates to the base of his skull, where the pounding seems to be at it’s worst, and it holds ground there, pulsing uncomfortably.

“Young man, you fell from a four-story apartment building.”

Peter’s brows furrow at this. He wants to object because he’s Spider-Man, and a fall like that is minor compared to the novel of inuries he’s suffered alongside the Avengers. He opens his mouth to do just that, to explain to this woman that this is nothing, that he’ll walk it off, but a pricking senstation hot against the back of his neck hotwires to his eyelids, forcing them open.

He’s aware of two things: One, the woman leaning over him is far too close, and she’s doubling and tripling before him, going in out of focus against his blurry eyes. Despite hazy around the edges, she looks concerned, if the deep-set wrinkles etched into her forehead are anything to go by. Two, there’s a small crowd surrounding him, and while Peter’s not particularly claustrophobic, right now, it feels like each body is pushing against his lungs, and his stomach. When the hell did he start feeling so nauseous?

“Young man, do you know what day it is?”

No, Peter thinks flatly to himself. He really doesn’t. He could dig through his mind, eager to push out logic, work through his mental calendar that operates soley around when homework assignments are due, but there’s a solid rock of pulsing pain blocking all normal, brain functioning. “Monday?” he tries weakly. He’s faintly aware that his own voice sounds hollow and distant, but more so, he’s distinctly aware of the saliva pooling in his mouth, a copper taste that coats against his tongue.

Peter didn’t think it was possible, but the woman somehow frowns deeper at him, and she climbs to her feet, body rigid. He supposes it’s not Monday after all.

“Call an ambulance! He’s concussed.”

Peter shoots forward into a sitting position, and the pain in his head bursts like a balloon. The redistributed pressure is blinding, and Peter drops his face into his cupped hands with a low groan that threatens to bring more than just air up his throat.

He wants to assure them that a hospital isn’t necessary, that his enhanced healing defies medical science, but when the white light coating his vision dies down to an unsteady sway of darker, blurring colors, he only sees scraped up palms before him, not gloves. He rips his hands away, and one, quick look down shows that he’s sporting a blue NASA hoodie and blue jeans and that he’s definitely not wearing his signature red and blue Spider-Man suit he thought he had on.

The hell?

He glances to see his backpack beside him, thankfully still zipped up and intact. He tries to wrack his brain, briefly craning his neck up toward the rooftop he assumes he fell from, only to quickly jerk his gaze back down when the setting sun seems to shine past his eyes to burn at his skull. He can’t remember why he was up there in the first place, especially since he’s in civilian clothing. He can’t remember much of anything, now that he dwells on it.

“Young man, by all accounts, you should be dead.”

Peter makes to reply, his clenched jaw unhinging almost painfully, but a different, probing jolt sparks up his spine to the back of his neck, and he’s climbing to his feet, pale, wobbly, just as two, new voices somehow carry over the wall of chatter around him.

“What’s going on?”

“Make way. Crowds typically mean one of two things: some weird alien contraption that equals bad news or a dead body, either of which I can’t really fit into today’s schedule.”

Even if Peter didn’t have the two voices memorized, down to the timbre, the sudden, loud squealing from the crowd of “Tony Stark!” and “Captain America!” is enough to have him eyeing for a quick exit, determining if he can duck his way through the pressing bodies.

“This young man fell from the roof!”

“So,” Tony draws out, his voice growing closer. “Dead body it...” He trails off as he nudges around a few people until he’s breaking into the center of the circle with Steve hot on his heels.

“Well, hello there, not dead person.”

Peter wants to shrink away from Tony’s gaze. He wants the ground to crumble and break and swallow him hole, to rid himself of the awkward fear and warm embarrasment that flushes his cheeks. He can feel a thick, lukewarm liquid dripping down his neck, and he doesn’t want to look down to see the concerning pool of blood at his feet.

“Son, are you alright?” Steve shoves forward, and on instinct, Peter backs away and brings a hand to the back of his neck, a nervous tick, but he pulls it back almost immediately, faintly frowning at the splattered red coloring his palm.

“You fell,” Tony starts, and Peter knows this tone well as it’s Tony’s signature speculation tone, where he dissects the situation around clipped, short sentences.

“From up there?”

Leveling his gaze, Peter huffs out a shaky sigh, wincing slightly as Steve prods lightly at the back of his head.

“Um, yeah. I guess?”

“You guess?”

“I don’t really remember,” Peter laughs awkwardly, clears his throat. He can sense the tension that builds behind him, can almost feel the way Steve’s muslces grow rigid.

“He’s concussed, Tony. Maybe save the interrogation for another time?”

“Sure,” Tony says, and he steps forward, carefully avoiding the puddle of blood. “But, you can’t blame me for finding this entire situation unsettling, Steve. This kid fell from the roof of a four-story building, landed on his back, and now he’s standing, and aside from the fact that he looks a tad worse for wear, he’s alive?”

“I’m right here,” Peter mutters under his breath, and Tony nods and crowds too close to him.

“You are. Standing. Speaking. Alive. Three things that don’t exactly pair well with falling off a roof.”

Peter’s head hurts, bad. Deflect, he thinks. But how? “I’ve always been told I come from a family of hard heads,” he mumbles around a hollow laugh, and, he thinks, it definitely sounds as stupid out loud as it did in his head.

Tony’s gaze, in response, his sharp, and narrow, and Peter unconsciously closes his eyes. He can feel the ground rippling below his feet, and he sways, steadying only when Steve wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“Enough, Tony.”

“How much would it take to get you to come back to our labs so I can run some tests-”

“-Enough, Tony.”

Steve’s voice vibrates all across Peter’s body. It’s a powerful yet familiar feeling that makes him shudder slightly.

“What’s your name, son?”

Peter contemplates lying, maybe even using Ned’s name. But, he’s been careful as Spider-Man thus far, so, he thinks, he’s not at risk by sharing his real name. Besides, it’s not like it’s uncommon. “Peter,” he says after a moment.

He could hear Steve talking beside him, but an unannounced rush of blood in his ears begisn to drown out close sounds. He grows hot suddenly, or maybe, he’s been getting steadily hotter this entire time and he couldn’t fully realize. His body’s shaking a little harder now, inconsistent trembles jerking his limbs. His throat’s tightening, and when he realizes what the hell is happening, he’s shoving away from Steve and hunching over to vomit.

He feels worse when he finishes. He’s exhausted, and his head is positively throbbing. Yet, there’s a color of clarity flicking across his mind. Through the thick pain, he can think a little clearer, see a little clearer.

“Peter?”

“Gross, kid. Time to go to the hospital.”

“No!” Peter whips around, staggers, and unconsciously reaches out to Steve’s arm for support. “I mean, that’s not necessary,” he clarifies at the two, wide expressions looking at him expectantly. “Really. I’m already feeling better.” To punctuate his point, he lets go of Steve’s arm and bends down to snag his backpack, clutching it close to his chest. “See, totally fine. No passing out or anything.”

On the back of his head, he can already feel his broken skin moving, closing torn gaps, slowing the bloodflow. He figures he’s got about an hour until it’s completely healed, and he’d rather not be around two Avengers when it happens.

“I’ll just go home and... rest! I’ll rest. Scout’s honor.” He mock salutes, and then he spins on his heel and starts pushing his way out of the crowd, missing the furrowed gaze from Tony. He swallows thickly when he hears two sets of heavy footsteps behind him.

“Peter, wait!”

“I’m with Steve on this one, kid. I can’t, in good conscience, let you disappear in this condition. I can see the headlines now. Iron Man Abandons Helpless Teen.”

“Tony...”

Peter keeps walking ahead, keeps his gaze locked to the sidewalk below him as Tony and Steve take either side of him. “My apartment’s just a few blocks from here,” he mumbles, focusing on the rhythmic pound of his shoes on concrete and not on the hot pain pushing all across his head or on the fact that he can’t shake a couple of Avengers, something he’d never consider as Spider-Man.

“Do you not like hospitals, Peter?”

Steve’s question is a gentle prod, and Peter goes with it, shrugging.

“Not really,” he offers, keeping his voice low, indicating he doesn’t want to pursue the conversation, and luckily, Steve takes the bait and drops it. At least, Peter thinks, they’ll stop insisting he seek out medical assistance now. Though, he does feel a little bad lying to Steve; he doesn’t like lying, unless it’s to egg on Tony’s nerves as Spider-Man. But to Steve? It feels morally wrong, and he thinks he should seek out a confessional for his sins later.

“Not interested in having a bunch of doctors deem you a medical miracle?”

“Definitely not,” Peter groans, finally dragging his gaze up until he’s looking forward and not at the scuff marks on his shoes. His memories, though fuzzy, are filtering through cracks in the thick mud that’s currently his mind. He can remember standing atop the roof, maybe a little too close to the edge. He was getting ready to rip open his backpack for his suit, and then he remembers losing his footing. He remembers the back of his foot hitting the edge of the roof, and everything goes dark after that.

Embarrassing, he thinks. He’s the only super hero he knows clumsier than a newborn deer. Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t realize he’s reached his apartment until his leg muscles are dragging to a stop on habit. He looks up, craning his neck, and sighs. “Well, this is me. I appreciate the escort, but I’m good now.” He starts up the steps, sighing louder when he hears the two follow.

He makes it all the way up the steps to his apartment door and unlocks it before he spins on his heel, a second, longer sigh pushing past his lips. “Look, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but don’t you both have... bigger things to do? Iron Man and Captain America things?”

“You busy, Steve?” Tony asks, and Steve mutely shakes his head before following Tony into the apartment.

Groaning, Peter rubs at his forehead and shuffles inside, knowing full and well that both are incredibly busy on an hour-to-hour basis. He’s quick to slip his bacpack into his bedroom and close the door before he steps back out into the living room to see Steve motioning toward the couch with a pack of frozen peas in hand.

“It’s all you had.”

Shrugging, Peter drops down flat onto the couch, sitting up briefly so Steve can slip the bag of frozen peas behind his head. He shivers on contact because shit, it’s freezing, and Steve’s reaching over him to snag the blanket draped behind the couch. He hums absently when Steve tucks it around him, and then he cracks an eye open to see Tony staring down childhood pictures with a familair set of glasses on.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Huh?” Tony whips around, already plucking the glasses from his face.

“Really, Tony? How much info is FRIDAY feeding you right now?”

“What?” Tony drags out, both hands raised in defense. “Kid fell off a roof and walked away. Sue me.”

“I promise, Mr. Stark, I’m not even remotely interesting,” Peter tries, and Tony raises a single brow his way.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Peter’s kept his identity tightly under wraps thus far, and he knows childhood pictures or pictures with May aren’t going to reveal that he’s Spider-Man. Still, it’s annoyingly intrusive, and he sits up with a groan.

“If I swear on my best friend’s lego model death star that I’ll stay put, rest, and wake up every few hours to monitor my condition, will you both please leave? You really don’t need to hang around here; I know you both have to be really busy.”

“Your best friend has a lego model death star?” Tony starts, isolating that one fact. “Is your best friend in second grade?”

Peter clambers to his feet, stalks over to his door, and yanks it open. “We’re the same age, and I happily helped him with it,” he challenges, motioning toward the doorway.

“Easy, champ,” Tony says around a laugh as he and Steve start toward the door. “If you and your friend want to play with legos, that’s none of my business. Just try not to fall off any more roofs because, unfortunately, that is my business.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter says, offering a nod as the two step out.

“Consider going to a hospital, Peter,” Steve adds. “Maybe take your friend with you for comfort.”

Yeah right, Peter thinks. Ned can’t even handle the thought of a needle without feeling faint. Still, he nods, if only to appease Steve, and then he’s closing the door and sinking against it with a low sigh. He listens for a long time until he can no longer make out their footsteps, and then he’s ignoring the pressure in his head and running to his room to don his suit.

Concussion or not, Queens still needs the friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man.

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silenceofthecookies · 4 years ago

Text

Gin Ichimaru x reader(F) - perspective

Okay so, story time, several years ago I promised @nakunakunomi I’d write her a Gin fanfic for her birthday. Time passed, I started writing in character, and I found out Gin is ridiculously hard to write for. I’ve started about 4 stories, all of which I ended up deleting because they didn’t fit Gin well enough to my liking. About 4 hours ago I got this idea, and I’ve been writing it non-stop since to just finish and publish this before I decided it was no good as well and deleted this as well.

Hazel, I am so sorry this took so long, I hope you like it!

Word count: 3344 Warnings: none

A young man had entered the castle. A commoner. Apparently he had helped out some soldiers capture an enemy spy. There was a war going on with the neighbouring country, and the situation had been tense lately. Spies were not uncommon, though they were hard to catch. This man had not only discovered one, he had also worked with the soldiers to apprehend the spy. The soldiers took him to the king so he could receive a reward for his deeds.

The man was long and slender, certainly not the kind of man you’d think of when you thought of a man who captured an enemy spy. If anything, he was exactly the kind of person you’d think of when imagining an enemy spy. His white hair hung partly over his face, hiding his eyes just a little from sight. But that was not what unnerved you about this man. It was the man’s smile. It was an eerie, long, stretched smile that almost made it seem like he was guarding a secret he would soon reveal. One that would lead to very negative consequences. You did not take your eyes off the man for as long as he was in the throne room.

Against your expectations, he did nothing that would worry you. The man simply accepted the reward from the king for his services and left. Your father had offered him to join the army, saying that surely with his abilities and intelligence he would quickly rise up the ranks, but the man had declined, saying that the life of a soldier was not one suited for him. You were glad when he was gone and let out a breath you were not aware you had been holding. The king laughed at your reaction, having been aware of your caution from the start, and warned you that men could not be judged on looks. You agreed with him and quickly composed yourself before the next person entered the throne room.

After the audiences were done, you went to the library to read a book while you waited for dinnertime. One of your personal maids, Rangiku, went with you.

“Shall I bring your tea to the library, your highness? Or will you be reading in your room?” “In the library is fine, thank you, Rangiku.”

The young woman bowed and left your side to go to the kitchen. You entered the library and took the same book you had been reading for a few days now. It was a romance novel. The protagonist was the daughter and second child of a merchant. Though she was not extremely wealthy, she was smart and beautiful, and she attracted many suitors from higher standing, who offered her father financial support for his company in return for his daughters hand in marriage. Her father refused them all, saying his daughter would marry out of love. After many hardships, she fell in love with a blacksmith’s assistant. He had little to no money to his name, but he was kind, respectful and romantic, and they were going to get married.

The thought seemed almost absurd to you. Didn’t commoners live a very hard life? Why would she turn down all those well-off suitors to go live with a blacksmiths boy? As she was the second child, her father’s company would go to her older brother. Why not marry a well-off man and live comfortably? It confused you so, that you decided to ask Rangiku about it when she arrived with your tea.

“Excuse me, your highness?” she asked, a little shocked as she heard your question. “I asked if it was hard living as a commoner. You once told me you were an orphan and you lived on the street for a while, right?” “That’s true but… your highness, if I might ask, where does this sudden question come from?”

You explained the story you were reading to her, and Rangiku’s eyes softened.

“To answer your question, yes, it was hard. However, it was not all bad. I lived together with another group of orphans. Sure, living wasn’t easy, but we were happy together. Having the right people around you can bring you more happiness than money ever could.” “I see… if they made you so happy, Rangiku, don’t you miss them now you work here?” “Of course I do, your highness. But I visit them regularly on my days off.” “I see… what are they like?”

Rangiku happily told you about the people she grew up with, people who were all like brothers and sisters to her. There were two people who she spoke of more than others though. They were Gin and Toshiro, her older and younger brother respectively. According to Rangiku Gin had a weird sense of humour, but he was very reliable. Toshiro on the other hand was way too serious, but he was always thinking about others. Seeing her face light up as she spoke about her little makeshift family made you think that maybe, the book that now lied neglected on the couch next to you was not just pretty words.

“They all sound so wonderful.” You told Rangiku as she finished talking. “They really are.” She agreed with a gentle smile on her face. “Do you think I could meet them?” you asked carefully, in a small voice. “Of course! If that is your highnesses’ wish, you could invite them here at any time, I’m sure they’d be honoured to-�� “Actually, I’d rather meet them at their home. And maybe without them knowing I’m the princess. I feel like… I don’t know… it would give me a better understanding of commoners and their life? Listening to you just made me realise that I have no idea how commoners live… but this country will be mine to rule one day…”

Rangiku’s eyes widened in surprise before an excited smile appeared on her face.

“Your highness, that is a fantastic idea! In that case, how about I bring you with me on my next day off? We’ll put you in one of the maid’s dresses and tell them that you’re another maid who grew up in the castle.” “Would that really be alright?” “Of course!”

You and Rangiku worked out all the details, how to sneak you out, how to make sure nobody would realise you were gone,… and then agreed that next Sunday, you’d head to the kitchen after breakfast and that you’d leave with Rangiku.

---

You adjusted the hood of your cloak as you walked through the gates of the castle. As the princess of this country, you had never been allowed to leave the castle without a guard and yet here you were, leaving the castle with a maid. You briefly wondered if this truly was a good idea, wondering what the consequences would be for both you and Rangiku in case you got caught, but these thoughts were soon banished from your mind when you came across a market in the castle town. Rangiku bought a pie from the baker. The baker happily chatted with Rangiku as she did so, and from their conversation it was clear that Rangiku did this every time she went home. After a while of walking, the two of you left the walls of the castle town and walked in between the fields that surrounded it. There were a lot of farmers out on the fields, watering their crops and milking their cows. Most of them waved at Rangiku as she passed by, and Rangiku happily waved back. Several of them yelled ‘good morning’ and ‘have a safe trip’ as well from across their fields, and the happy atmosphere caught hold of you. You had always thought that commoners were unhappy because they did not have a lot of money, but perhaps Rangiku was right. Maybe happiness required the right people around you instead of a lot of money.

Not too long after the two of you left the castle walls, a small house came into sight. It looked a bit old and worn-out and it was clear that there had been work done to patch it up here and there. In fact, as you approached, you noticed a small figure sitting on the roof, attaching a few new planks to the roof.

“Toshiro!” Rangiku called out. The young man jumped at the sound a little and turned around. You immediately recognised the name. “Welcome back Rangiku. I’ll be down after I’ve fixed this. There’s a small leak in the roof.” “Take your time~” “Who’s that with you?” “This is Shiori, we work together at the castle.”

You resisted the urge to curtsy at the introduction. Shiori had been the name you to picked to cover up your identity, but Shiori was an attendant of the princess, not the princess herself.

“Nice to meet you, Shiori, I’m Toshiro.” The young man showed a small smile as he addressed you. “Nice to meet you, Toshiro.” You answered with a smile of your own. “Toshiro! Where is Gin?” Rangiku asked once introductions were over. “He’s out helping the old man next door with milking the cows, his son is sick. He should be back any time now.” “Alright~ Come in, Shiori, I’ll make us some time. Toshiro, come down soon too, I’ve got pie~”

Toshiro did not reply, instead the sound of hammering was soon heard again. Once you entered the house, it sounded extra loud, but you would bear it for a little. For now though, you were more distracted by the interior of the house. You had never been in a commoner’s house before. Everything was dark because the windows were small, there was very little furniture, and most of what was visible seemed older than you. It was truly a culture shock. Rangiku started boiling a big pot of tea.

“It’s not much, but make yourself at home. I’ll prepare some tea and cut the pie already.”

You somewhat carefully sat down on a chair, wondering if it would give out under your weight. It didn’t take long for Toshiro to come back in. Rangiku put down cups of tea and handed out plates with pie, both were made of simply, unpainted clay. They were very different from the cups and plates you had back in the castle.

As you were enjoying the refreshments, you found out that most of the people Rangiku had mentioned no longer lived with them. Most had taken up trades and were living with their masters. Some others had moved town, hoping to find happiness somewhere else. Only Gin and Toshiro had remained in the house. They made a living by tending to a patch of land that as attached to their house and by helping the farmer, who was also their landlord.

Just when you were starting to relax and enjoy the company, a fourth person entered the small home. As you looked up, your heart sank. It was the man you had seen at the castle, the one with the unnerving smile. Certainly he would recognise you. His eyes lingered a second on you before he turned to Rangiku, his smile never wavering.

“Rangiku, who did you bring with you?” “This is Shiori, she works at the castle too. I talk about you two all the time so she wanted to come with me. Shiori, this is Gin.” “Nice to meet you” Your voice came out shaky, partially because of the fear of being recognised, partially because of his face. “Nice to meet you, Shiori. Oh by the way, Rangiku, did you know I went by the castle last week?” “What? No way! And you didn’t come say hi to me?!”

As Rangiku got the details from Gin about his business in the castle, you let out a shaky breath. Did he not recognise you? Certainly not, otherwise he would have treated you differently, right? This was good, your cover was safe.

“Wait, Gin, you refused the king’s offer to join the army despite him offering you a higher position from the start?!” “Yeah.” “Are you mad?! Those guys earn good money!” “Aw come on, Rangiku. Then Toshiro would’ve been lonely.” “I would definitely be happier without you around!” Toshiro yelled. He had been silent ever since Gin had entered and he had seemed more tense too. “Of course he would have been! Then he and Momo could’ve lived here together~!” Rangiku quipped in. “Wha-?! Rangiku!” Toshiro yelled, a light pink dusting his cheeks. Rangiku and Gin laughed. “Yeah, maybe I should have thought about that earlier~” Gin joked. “As if, you just don’t want to work for the king because you hate that guys guts, right?” Toshiro asked. “Toshiro!” Rangiku lightly slapped his arm. “What?! I know you work in the castle, but that’s not changing the situation!” Toshiro yelled.

You looked in confusion between the three. Your father was a beloved king, right? Why did they act this way? Rangiku noticed and immediately tried to steer away from the subject.

“Oh I’m so sorry you have to see this, Shiori. Toshiro, Gin, we have a guest. Let’s not do this now.” She said. “Oh come on, Rangiku. Certainly she’s just as fed-up with the king as we are. Aren’t you, Shiori?” Gin asked, his attention, and grin, now directed at you. “I…I think he’s a fair king.” You said. “Let me guess, you were born in the castle?” “Yes…I was. What does that have to do with it?” “It means you lack perspective. The king wanted more power, so he started a war with the neighbouring country. To pay for said war, he’s raising taxes.” “Yes, but when he wins the spoils from the war will certainly be plentiful.” “When? You’re naïve, aren’t you? If. If he wins. And on top of that, those spoils will go into his pocket, not ours. And then we’re not even talking about the people who have died fighting this stupid war. Do you know how many have already died? How many more need to die for that bastard to fill his pockets? The king is a greedy son of a bitch, that’s what he is.” Gin spoke calmly, as if reading a line from a book. And yet, there was something menacing about his tone. There was a certain edge to it. One that made you very nervous. “I…I think the king is doing what he thinks is best for the kingdom.” “By killing his people and robbing them blind with taxes?” “I… I cannot deny that that’s happening, but I truly believe the king means well. Maybe… he’s lacking perspective.”

Gin’s grin grew and Rangiku was about to get up and drag you away before Gin got up and got closer to you.

“Let’s say you’re right. He’s still doing bad stuff. He only has people advising him who will also fill their pockets after the war. His perspective will never expand. He has no-one around who has the guts to point out his mistakes.” “The why don’t you join the army and become that person?” “Because the moment I speak up, I will be branded a rebel and executed, that’s why. Life is not that fair, young lady. Usually when you point out mistakes to nobles and royals, they’ll have you hung.”

Your head dropped. He was right, whenever someone was rude to a royal, said royal needed but say the word and the offender was executed. Nobles had the same power to a certain extent. In the past, it has been used to repress rebellions by your ancestors. And you had never thought anything of it, you had seen it as normal.

“Gin! That’s enough!” Rangiku huffed, pushing Gin out of your face. “Aww don’t be so serious, Rangiku. I was only playing teasing her~” “You were harassing her, Gin.” “Oh, was I? I’m sorry, Shiori~”

His apology was light-hearted and sounded as a joke. As if he did something funny. Rangiku continued to scold him for a little longer, before stepping back and grabbing your cloaks.

“I think we should leave, Shiori. I’m sorry about my brother.” “It’s alright, Rangiku. He… he had a point.” Rangiku stared at you in shock as you put your cloak on. “Despite the topic just now, I had fun while I was here. Would it be alright if I came with you more often?” “O-of course. If that’s what you want…”

You thanked Toshiro and Gin for their hospitality and left their home, Rangiku following behind you in a daze. The sound of the door closing behind her seemed to snap her out of it, and she quickly ran up to walk besides you.

“Your highness, I am so sorry for Gin’s behaviour. He was out of line, talking about your father like that.” “No, Rangiku, he wasn’t. He voiced his a opinion. Gave me a perspective I never even thought about. As the future queen of this country, I need to hear things like this. The rich are only a small portion of this country, yet it’s the only view I know. Sure, it hurt to hear him speak about my father like that… but I want to be a good queen. I want to make the people happy. All of them, not just the rich. I can’t keep walking with my eyes shielded from the ugly truth.”

Rangiku was unsure of what to say to you as she continued walking besides you on your way back to the castle. Unknown to you, Gin, who had been listening to the conversation from next to a window that was open, grinned and walked back to the kitchen, where Toshiro was still drinking his tea.

---

Your little escapade had gone by without a problem. Nobody every knew you were gone, so nobody got in trouble. That had been a few days ago now, but Gin’s words were still etched into your mind. You pondered over them as you read several books about history and politics, trying to think about them from a commoners perspective as much as you could, the romance novel you were reading long forgotten.

You tucked the books you wanted to read under your arm, ready to bring them to your room with you to enjoy them in the safety of your room. As you walked though a hallway, a man in light armour walked by. It wasn’t uncommon, as the strategy room was close to the library. What was uncommon though, was the man’s white hair. As you got closer, you realised exactly who that was.

“Gin?” you gasped. “Good evening, your highness. Or can I call you Shiori? Wait, your real name was Y/N, right? Can’t I just call you that? I do hate formalities, certainly when you’ve visited my house already.” “I- Wha- You knew?” “Oh yes, all along. You’re not very subtle, you know that?” “But, I thought you hated my father? Did you change your mind?” “Oh no, not at all. I still can’t stand the guy. But I heard the princess needed to hear the opinions of the commoners.” “You overheard that?!” “The walls of our house aren’t nearly as thick as the castle walls, my lady.” “So… you came here to help me?” “I had three reasons for doing this. That is one of them.” “What are the other two?” “Easy. Toshiro has a girlfriend and I’m pretty sure he wants to marry her, but as long as I live at home nothing is going to happen.” “And the last?” “Oh, the third reason?”

Gin stepped closer to you, which in turn made you step back. You continued retreating as he kept advancing until your back was against the wall. He stared at you, that unnerving smile of his present as always.

“Because you caught my eye, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened and you felt your cheeks heat up. Before you could even process the words, Gin was already continuing down the hallway.

“Anyway, I have a meeting with the king. Have a nice day, your highness~”

#gin ichimaru x reader #gin ichimaru imagine #bleach x reader #bleach imagine #gin ichimaru #bleach #cookie writes #scenario #gift work #nakunakunomi

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twstdreams · 4 years ago

Note

I've loved your non-romantic/platonic content that you've done so far! Adding on to that list, could I please request a short story surrounding MC, Ace, and Deuce? An accident occurs which ends in MC turning into a little kid and now it's up to the two boys to put their differences aside and babysit their friend until she's back to normal. Girl pronouns plz! Lol I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue. If you don't feel comfortable with this ask you can skip it! Thx for reading :)

I am always up for platonic content and shenanigans! Long story, so the rest is under the cut!

Warning: Minor spoilers for side stories (briefly alluded to)

Length: ~2.3K

“It’s this one!” Deuce declares with unfounded confidence.

“No, it’s not!” Ace rebuttals despite not making it past page 10 in his textbook.

“It’s mine!” Grimm shouts even though he most definitely does not understand the experiment at hand.

The magicless student can only sigh. Deuce and Ace suck at potions. So when the two bicker about what to add to their cauldron, the prefect doesn’t even blink an eye. Deuce mispronounces an ingredient, Ace corrects him, but neither are even talking about the right thing. She can practically sense Crewel’s glare despite her eyes remaining on the cauldron, cautiously waiting for bubbles to appear so she could add the indigo milk cap mushroom.

What is added next to her cauldron is not the mushroom in her hand but a random root Grimm throws in. In Deuce’s haste to catch the gremlin, he spills over his own cauldron and some of their potion spills into hers.

“What are you doing?” she asks, but it’s too late. The mixture in her cauldron is boiling profusely and suddenly envelopes her in a cloud of smoke.

“Funya! MC, are you okay?” Grim inquires. Deuce and Ace also call out her name but there is no response. When the smoke clears, everyone in the room is left speechless.

The potential beast tamer hasn’t moved but an inch but she’s at least two feet shorter and with rounder cheeks and wide eyes.

“WHAT?” she screeches in disbelief, suddenly too short to even reach the cauldron, “Fix this!”

And this is how the group’s long catastrophic day begins.

Adventure 1: The beginning

“What?!” Grim shouts. If looks could kill, Crewel’s glare would have toasted the monster.

“Yes, it is hard to predict when MC will return to normal because you carelessly threw together that potion. It should wear off in a day, but there’s no guarantee,” the teacher explains through gritted teeth. The bell rings but the quartet barely registers it.

“Go to the headmaster! It’s not my problem anymore,” Crewel declares.

Unfortunately, as most meetings with the headmaster are, the conversation is fruitless.

“Hah? We’re supposed to babysit her?” Ace asks.

“Yes! It’s your fault, is it not? Take care of her until the spell wears off,” Crowley declares.

“Isn’t there any way to break the spell?” Deuce inquires while nervously glancing towards MC.

“It’s hard to tell because you added in unknown amounts of various ingredients,” Crowley answers before muttering, “It takes too much time! I need to know what happens next in my novel.”

“Tch, what a lazy adult,” MC comments with a bored expression. She figured this would happen. She can’t even recall a moment when the headmaster had actually been helpful.

“What did you say?” Crowley demands. Deuce immediately picks up MC and heads for the door.

“Nothing! We’ll take care of her! See you later headmaster!” Ace explains while the two boys dash out of the office. They book it out of the hallway and then set her down on the ground.

“Hey! What was that about? It’s usually Grim saying stuff that gets us in trouble, not you,” Ace comments.

“Don’t tell me…Now she acts like a little kid too?” Deuce wonders.

Adventure 2: Stranger Danger

“Oh? Ramshackle prefect, you seem to be caught in quite the predicament.” MC glares at the Octavinelle dorm leader in return. Ace and Deuce are in the midst of calling Cater and Trey to ask for advice, giving Azul the perfect opportunity to approach her.

“I have an offer for you,” the second year begins.

“No.” MC is firm in her answer and has no intention of making any deals.

“Are you sure? I treat children well,” Azul adds but it only results in her frowning. There’s suddenly a glimmer in her eyes but before Azul can deduce what it means, MC begins shouting.

“STRANGER DANGER! STRANGER DANGER!”

“Stop that!” Azul insists but his wide eyes give away his flustered state. With a smile that looks a little too much like Chenya’s, MC continues her call for help. Soon enough, Deuce and Ace rush to her side.

“Stranger? That’s Prefect Azul! Have you forgotten him?” Deuce inquires with a look of concern. MC decides this is the perfect time to practice her puppy eyes and simply looks up at Deuce, wide eyes and with a pout.

Azul silently admits defeat as he forms a tight-lipped smile accompanied by some false pleasantries before exiting the area.

“I’m hungry!” she announces before anyone can question her further.

“Yes! Let’s go eat!” Grim agrees.

Adventure 3: Sweet Dreams

Getting lunch is a surprisingly painless affair. Though Night Raven College students could be quite self-centred, even they balked at harming a little girl. MC easily orders her favourites before sitting with her friends, though she has to sit on her knees to be at a comfortable height compared to the table.

“Wow! It’s true!~” Cater chimes while taking a seat at the table.

“How are you feeling?” Trey asks.

“Okay! It’s kinda weird but at least it was easy to get lunch,” she replies while taking a bite of her food.

“Now you really look like my minion!” Grim declares. MC shoots the monster a glare but doesn’t give him a response.

“You’re actually a little kid, huh? So, what do you wanna do when you grow up?” Ace teases.

“I want to control all the ghosts and have an army,” MC answers nonchalantly as if she had been discussing the weather.

“What?” Trey asks, slightly taken aback. Wasn’t this the person who was gullible enough to think that oyster sauce went in tarts?

“A ghost army,” she repeats confidently.

“Anyway! Aren’t you lucky? You get all these handsome guys to help you today!” Cater interjects, not wanting to unpack why the prefect wanted an army of the dead.

Her gaze scans the table before looking up at Cater, eyes wide and expression void of malice, and asks, “Where?”

Grim howls with laughter while the four Heartslabyul students try to recover from the blow to their ego. It’s definitely going to be a long day for them.

Adventure 4: Smiles and stares

“Hey wait!” MC whines. One disadvantage of becoming short is that her stride decreased accordingly, thus her struggles to keep up with her classmate’s pace.

“Just walk faster or we’ll be late for class!” Ace retorts, glancing up ahead to see how far away the next building is.

“AHH!” Ace turns around to see MC a couple of meters behind him face-first in a patch of grass.

“Uwah! Are you okay?” Grim asks while flying above the fallen girl. Ace groans at the predicament. Deuce ran ahead to warn the other teachers of MC’s unfortunate condition so the redhead was the only babysitter at the moment.

The situation only worsens when MC begins to sit up, knees scraped, eyes glistening with tears, brows furrowed, and lips pressed tightly together. Ace’s eyes widen at the sight.

“Please don’t cry,” he mutters under his breath before trying to think about how to soothe kids.

“Oh my, that was quite a fall. You’re okay now though, right?” Jade asks while extending a gloved hand. His face is calm, showing no signs of concerns or worry with only a placid smile to demonstrate any emotion. MC stares at his face, analyzing his expression for a few moments. After finding the answer to her unsaid question, she accepts his hand and quickly sniffles before nodding.

Ace watches in amazement as all signs of pain and panic vanish from her expression. He decides not to question her mood change before ushering the prefect to their next class.

Adventure 5: What came first? The egg or the chicken?

“You have to!” Deuce insists.

“NO!” MC shouts back, sitting firmly on the ground. Deuce is startled by the force of her words but stands his ground.

“It’s for your own good! Kids need exercise!” Or at least that’s what Cater told him before going to light music club.

“You can’t move me an inch!” MC retorts.

“I’m older, you should respect your seniors,” Deuce adds, doing his best to retain some level of patience.

“At least I know where chickens come from!” she rebuttals and Deuce feels at a loss for words. It is certainly not honour student behaviour to yell at a young girl but the first year is at his limits. He came to NRC to learn about magic, not dealing with children!

“Let’s play tag,” Jack suggests. Being the only one with little siblings, he is quickly enlisted to help. While disappointed in Deuce and Ace’s carelessness, he didn’t want to risk MC’s safety by leaving her in their care. Thus making him a reluctant member of the babysitting team.

“Tag?” MC echoes before a bright smile forms on her face. “Can it be teams?”

“Sure,” Jack agrees nonchalantly.

“Jack and I are on the same team! We get to chase Deuce and Ace!” she declares gleefully.

“Huh? I didn’t agree to this,” Ace interjects.

“We need even teams!” MC responds with puffed cheeks.

“Too bad, so sad!” Ace replies without remorse.

“This is our fault Ace. Plus we promised the headmaster to take care of her. As Heartslabyul students and men, we can’t go back on our words!” Deuce declares. Jack’s firm gaze and Deuce’s blazing spirit give little room for negotiation and Ace sighs in defeat. Ace really does hate alchemy class from the bottom of his heart.

Adventure 6: Idiots, all of them

MC closes her eyes and enjoys the breeze while resting. Deuce and Jack had gone to the cafeteria to get drinks for everyone after several rounds of tag while Ace lay on the ground to catch his breath. It was quite entertaining to see the fastest first years engage in a game of tag and even more fun to watch Ace try to avoid his inevitable fate. Agile as he was, Ace couldn’t run fast enough to outdo Jack with his insane stamina and speed. She giggles at the memory.

“Bonjour petite princesse!” Rook looks down at the little girl with a shining smile. Her eyes snap open and follow the source of the cheerful voice.

“Isn’t it delightful to see a new side to your friends? Like escorting someone on their first dance, like watching a lazy lion transform into a beast for the sake of the hunt, like observing night flox bloom under a full moon!” Rook beams but MC merely shrugs in response.

“Yeah but I’ve also seen Ace fall off his broom, Deuce compliment plants, and Jack mistake onions for a chemical leak.”

“Oh? Is it not like having several princes tend to you?” he inquires.

She scrunches her nose in thought before replying, “If my prince got stuck in a tree and I had to go save him.”

“Dear me, and I thought you were une petite princesse mignonne [1]! Perhaps that was a misunderstanding,” Rook remarks though he doesn’t seem displeased with the discovery.

Adventure 7: Mandatory nap

“Let’s go to the infirmary,” Ace suggests, “MC needs a nap and it’s the closest building with beds.”

“I’m the one that needs a nap?” she asks while side-eyeing her tired friend.

“She hasn’t even run for 3 hours,” Jack comments.

“Kids need naps! Plus, who knows what the side-effects of the potion are?” Ace adds, “We shouldn’t take any chances with her health.”

“You do need proper sleep to grow strong!” Deuce concurs.

“Sure, sure,” she concedes. When they arrive at the infirmary, there is no staff in sight. Ace guides her to a bed with an expectant smile.

“Well, go to sleep now!” Ace announces.

“It doesn’t work like that. I’m not sleepy,” she responds.

“Just lie in bed and close your eyes!” Ace insists with a huff.

“Shut up. You’re so noisy,” a voice growls. Leona appears on the other side of a room divider. Jack lets out a sigh, disappointed but not surprised by his dorm leader.

“I was having such a nice nap and now I’m… hah?” His sentence trails off as he eyes the little girl before him.

“Well,” you launch into an explanation of what happened, Leona shooting a judgemental look towards Deuce and Ace midway, before concluding, “It should wear off by the end of the day.”

“Tch, what an annoyance. I’m going back to sleep, don’t be loud,” Leona warns before flopping back onto the bed.

“How do you fall asleep so fast?” MC inquires. Leona glares at her, lips pressed together to form a thin line, but he lets any threats die in his throat.

“It’s nap time. Count sheep like a good herbivore until you fall asleep,” he instructs before turning his back towards the group. More than she’d like to admit, her small body requires rest and what better excuse than this? Besides, it’s not like magical history homework was particularly appealing, so she plops onto the bed to rest.

“I’m exhausted. Taking care of kids is tiring,” Ace says before falling onto another bed.

“It’s been a long day. I’m glad MC is okay, though. Haaah…I’m sleepy,” Deuce murmurs before resting on a different bed. Jack doesn’t comment but quietly begins his homework while keeping watchful eye on the little girl, not that he’d admit it if asked.

Adventure 8: The End. For now, anyway

She stretches after waking up, pleased to find her body back to its normal size. Ace snores lightly, Deuce’s mouth is agape, and Leona is nowhere to be found.

“Are you feeling okay?” Jack asks.

“Yeah, I actually feel pretty good!” Their conversation awakens their friends.

“You’re finally back to normal! I’m relieved,” Deuce interjects.

“You’re a lot of work for a minion, ya know? You’re lucky I’m so great,” Grim comments.

“That was a pain! You owe me big time!” Ace adds. MC shakes her head and wonders if she has the greatest or most chaotic friends.

[1] une petite princesse mignonne = a cute little princess

#writing Rook and Deuce are hard #Rook is so extra #and Deuce's speech pattern is something I'm not used to #hope you enjoy #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #deuce spade #ace trappola #leona kingscholar #jack howl #rook hunt #cater diamond #trey clover #wow I cannot believe this is 2K

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sneakydraws · 4 years ago

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Well, here it is - a lengthy explanation of each card in my mdzs major arcana deck and what I meant to convey/what i would have changed in retrospect/what alternatives i considered! It’s a bit messy and my typing style is lazy but hopefully it will be an interesting read to some of you :)

And so you don’t say I didn’t warn you - jiang cheng’s section (11 justice) is absurdly long lmao

0 the fool I elaborated on this in the post itself but yeah basically jin ling is kind of representative of all the damage and trauma caused by the past, and there’s a kind of danger there of him falling victim to the same vices as the older characters and repeating the same mistakes and perpetuating the cycle of war and misery (the cycle that we already see with how the jin sect became the new wen sect, and later with how jgy became the new wwx) and he has a lot of room to grow! He grows so much over the course of the novel, comes to realise the complexities of the past and gets a harsh life lesson in how nothing is as black and white as it seems. But ill save talking about his progress for the end, for now whats important is that he has room to grow and also a dog. I don’t really have a justification for the sun, i mostly just thought it looked sick? It made its way to the next card as well, where it makes a bit more sense, but then i realised it was a dumb motif to include 1 the magician I still very much like wwx for the role, and that illustration would have probably had him raising a corpse on his left and pointing threateningly to the sun on his right. I considered including the table as well, with some mdzs relevant items replacing the card suits. Anyway, like i said wwx got a few cards to himself already so i went with the alternative wq design, since i think she fits the card as well. Both she and wwx are highly skilled people, extremely driven once they set their mind to something. The card to me symbolises the creative mind as well as a general drive for action, which fits them both - wwx was famously a prolific inventor, and wq came up with a previously unheard of surgery, after all. This card strays pretty far from the rider-waite deck design, largely because i was still figuring out how i wanted to approach this series, but you can still see the influence. 2 the high priestess I was actually going to skip this card at first because I couldn’t think of a fitting character, but once i considered a qings character post death, it all fit pretty well. She was already a highly intuitive person in life, and in sharing her memories with wwx she is, in a way, relaying a kind of secret knowledge. Anyway she’s one of my fav characters so im glad i got a chance to include her. The coffins could be interpreted to be xxc and sl or xxc and xy 3 the empress Theres other mother figures in mdzs who got to be mothers for a longer time, but jyl definitely embodies the positive aspects of this card the best. She’s nurturing, kind, emotionally supportive, she already mothered wwx and jc quite a bit when she was young. Plus i liked that the rw card had both water and flowers, making an easy lotus connection. In retrospect the stars look kind of out of place and i should have replaced them with something more relevant... Also, i should have had her hold a lotus seed pod instead of a flower, haha 4 the emperor Like i said I considered jc for the role but hoching bullied me into admitting that nmj was better… they’re both more of an inverted emperor than an upright one but then again theres hardly any character in mdzs who would fit upright emperor so. Jgs was also considered but he’s even uglier than nmj so i couldn’t bear to draw him 5 the hierophant It was pointed out to me that lqr would have fit this card better and the truth if that statement haunts me to this day. Unfortunately I have no space in my brain for lqr so lxc got the role instead. My main reason was his role during the wen destruction of gusu lan, when he ran away with the contents of the library - this is why there’s bookshelves behind him. The keys, take, from the rider-waite deck, are meant to represent the gusu pendants that allow you to enter 6 the lovers Im sure many people would have chosen wangxian here but I uhh don’t really care abt wangxian personally? And also their love story is so convoluted that jyl and jzx seem idyllic by comparison lol. Also i didnt really have an idea for who to put in the angel’s place for wangxian… mme jin certainly did not get these two together in the end but undeniably she and mme yu did initially give them a chance to fall for each other so. Thats something i guess. Anyway the trees became their sects’ flowers and the mountain became the burial grounds - an omen of their tragic fate, basically 7 the chariot There might have been other characters who fit this card better but i couldn’t really think of another card for lwj and i thought it would be weird to not include him… anyway i don’t really care for current timeline lwj BUT i do like that he was clearly influenced by wwx to walk his own path in life based on his moral convictions rather than follow his sect’s rules blindly. The chariot is to me a card of self control, self determination and focused action, so it seemed fitting. The composition felt kind of empty without the actual chariot so i padded it out with the guqin, the cloud recess in the bg (it doesn’t look great but i tried to replicate the drama design….) and the bunnies which conveniently fit the colour scheme of the sphinxes in the rider-waite design 8 strength Like i said before, my interpretation of this card is more… morally ambiguous than the quote unquote official meaning, so i thought about manipulative or duplicitous characters more than kind characters whose strength is expressed through gentleness (though i did consider jyl briefly for the latter interpretation). As such, i considered both jgy and nhs, but ended up going with jgy largely because i couldn’t pass up the opportunity to put the nie sect’s beast as the lion. 9 the hermit My thoughts immediately went to bssr lol. It may be an overly literal interpretation but whatever, i like it just fine. And i like that i managed to echo the rider-waite silhouette in the mountain and the tree (and even in bssr herself) 10 wheel of fortune God i love the parallels between these 2… this card to me is about how you cant trust your current situation, good or bad, to last forever, and these 2 embody that perfectly imo. Wwx went from son of a well off servant and a powerful cultivator, to street rat orphan, to adopted son of sect leader jiang, to double orphan, to MIA, to terrifying but admired warrior, to terrifying and despised traitor, to dead, to, at the very end, suddenly respected and trusted again. The dishonesty and cheapness of whatever the public’s current opinion of him is is portrayed beautifully as far as im concerned. And jgy of course claws his way up to power only to instantaneously become public enemy number one, to the point that he’s probably blamed for stuff there’s no reason to believe he had a hand in. Wei wuxian’s silent astonishment at how quickly the cultivation world turns against jgy and towards him again is a delicious moment of thematic resonance. 11 justice I settled on this card for jc after he got booted from the emperor seat but i do think it fits, in a somewhat convoluted way. I turned both the sword and the scales into visual representations of the golden core transfer (can you tell im obsessed with it). According to biddy tarot, the justice card is partly about searching for the truth, and the scene where jc finds out about the transfer is of course a big deal. I was also very influenced by the reversed meaning again - which is about being reluctant or unwilling to face or accept the consequences of your actions. I feel on an intuitive level that this fits jc but I’m not sure how well i can explain it - it’s something about how he’s a little too comfortable scapegoating wwx for things that were also, if much less so, influenced by his actions, and also something about the way he keeps wwx at an arm’s length emotionally but still leans on him and accepts his support when he really needs it, and somewhat hypocritically expects wwx to put the needs of him and the jiang sect before the needs of others. And also something about the core exchange is the consequence and proof of wwx’s deep - terrifyingly deep, even - love and care for him, which is something jc doesn’t seem to let himself acknowledge. Maybe even something about how you could argue that the way all of the jiangs acted around wwx - jfm’s favouritism that left him with the feeling of a debt he needs to repay, mme yus insistence that he be a servant more than a brother to jc, prepared to give his life for jc, and jc’s own unwillingness - or inability, he was a child after all - to clearly acknowledge wwx as an equal to himself, enabling wwx’s self sacrificial and protective tendencies - that all of this was what caused wwx’s complete and unquestioning willingness to do whatever it took to protect jc, and therefore paved the way to the golden core transfer. And i don’t mean this to be scapegoating jc - especially considering how young he was when this all went down, it wouldn’t be fair to expect this level of emotional perceptiveness, awareness and maturity of him - but i think adult jc has to grapple with the fact that the chain of cause and effect was not as simple as wwx fucking everyone’s lives up to be a martyr, and that both jc and his parents had a role in that story as well. I don’t even necessarily think this is something that jc only realised in the current timeline - i think it’s something he felt on some level this whole time, and it probably led to a lot of feelings of guilt - but the suibian reveal definitely puts it in sharp focus, and i think he’s now better equipped to handle this introspection than he was as a recently orphaned, traumatised teenager, lol. ANYWAY the window with the fabric is both a nod to the rider-waite design and a reference to the destruction of lanling - i actually did some basic ass research for this, and it seems that in ancient china fabric would indeed be hanged in a window if the normally used paper was damaged. The design of the window, as well as the very idea to use it to imply the reconstruction of lanling, was taken from this great piece of jc angst by my pal moroll1! Oh yeah also the covered window kind of works as a denial of forgiveness for jc because it’s like a halo but covered up... Also I completely forgot to put a blindfold over his eyes which would be perfectttt because blind justice and the core exchange......... ok moving on 12 the hanged man I always have issues with this card because i cant find a satisfactory summary of what it’s really about. Best i can tell it symbolises a need to hit pause, surrender or let go of something… ive also seen it tied to sacrifice? So mo xuanyu doesn’t fit perfectly, but sacrifice is definitely there in a surface level reading kind of way, and the idea that you have to surrender or let go in order to achieve your goal does fit the whole deal of getting revenge but giving up your life in exchange and not being there to see it 13 death This is probably one of my favourite cards, definitely not because I have huge issues with change or anything…. I see this card as signalling the necessity of change or putting an end to something / leaving something in the past in order to start anew? At first i considered putting past wwx, mxy and current wwx here as a kind of transformation and one cycle flowing into the next... But firstly, I’d already used mxy in the very previous card, so putting him in again would feel like overkill, and secondly, the longer I thought about it the less convinced I was that this would even fit with the card’s meaning? Because coming back from the dead doesn’t like... trigger an internal transformation within wwx or anything? Anyway, fun fact: the design I ended up going with was actually originally intended for judgement! I thought I was being very clever with the whole “figure plays an instrument and the dead rise” parallel, but apparently I’d just completely forgotten that the judgement card had a completely different composition... Truly I was boo boo the fool... But yeah anyway at the end of the day I figured the design would kind of work for death as well, with Wen Ning and the theme of transformation, (since in his case coming back as a fierce corpse does actually mark a certain transformation in behaviour) and Wei Wuxian’s protection of the Wen people essentially signifying an attempt to break the cycle of oppression if that makes any sense? Like, wwx is trying to revolutionise the way the world works a bit, if you catch my drift 14 temperance The centrist card! Again this is probably going off track from the “official” interpretation, but to me this card has a certain “don’t commit fully; do everything in moderation; don’t take either side” flavour to it that i personally find infuriating irl and that i very much assign to lxc. It’s entirely possible that I’m misinterpreting his character because i didn’t really pay him (and the 3zun in general) much mind while reading, but hell, I’m allowed to pick favourites and choose who i want to interpret deeply vs shallowly. Again, i wish id chosen lqr for hierophant because its so annoying for a character i don’t care about to get two cards…. But oh well 15 the devil My alternative idea for this was jgy as the devil and lxc plus nmj as the figures, but since all three had been featured already (multiple times, even!) i figured I’d go with xy instead, especially since he’s among my faves lol. I think the devil signifies something along the lines of unhealthy attachment, obsession or addiction, which isn’t 100% accurate in the case of xxc and a-qing, but if i stretch it a bit to cover toxic relationships in general, and especially manipulation or negative influence, i don’t think it’s half bad. My main struggle here was to choose who amongst the xxc/sl/aq trio to choose for the human figures. 16 the tower Arguably jin zixuans death and the following massacre of nightless city were the final and most direct reason for the siege of burial mounds, and the tiger seal is good shorthand for wwx’s loss of control over his powers, which led to the deaths of jzx and jyl. When reimagining major arcana i like to feature some kind of building in this card (spoilers for a possible future project but in my rose of versailles major arcana set the tower is bastille) and even if it’s not a tower, the image of wwx looming over the gathered crowd from atop a rooftop is so good i couldn’t resist 17 the star Struggled with this one - considered both jin ling and lsz for it, as symbolising a hope for the future, but that was kind of covered by the world so it wouldn’t make sense to include here as well... As usual when I struggle with interpreting a card (as opposed to understanding it but struggling with matching a character to it, like with death or moon) I went to biddy tarot and read all the details about its meaning. What i got was that this card signifies an incoming period of introspection and inner peace following a time of turmoil, as well as a general moving on into a new, better phase of one’s life or finding new meaning and purpose. The figure also suggests someone vulnerable, but possessing a keen sense of intuition as well as a good degree of practicality and common sense. Given all those, I settled for mianmian because IM LOVE HER..... I also kind of see her as a prelude to the “just one person is enough” theme present in tgcf!! And i think her decision to abandon her sect because she saw the toxicity and corruption in it is a very inspiring action - even if it didn’t make a large visible impact, i think the appearance of her and her idyllic family at the very end of the novel - paralleling and mirroring wangxian - implies that at the end of the day, it was a meaningful one 18 the moon Another card i ALWAYS fuxking struggle with - this time less because i can’t grasp its meaning and more because I can never find a character that fits it well. I usually get fixated on the “dreams and subconscious” part, but if i lean more on the “disguise, deceit, anxiety and fear” part, i eventually figured the whole yi city arc wouldn’t be a bad fit. I say the entire arc because it really does encompass all those themes if you include both the past and the present - xue yang’s disguise, his tricks with the villagers, a-qing’s lies and even xxc’s reluctance to talk about his past as well as xue yang pretending to be xxc all fit the disguise and deceit angle, and the general mystery and creepiness of the current timeline yi city work well with the anxiety and fear - the mist, the slow uncovering of the past, even a-qing being revealed to be an ally after scaring the shit out of the protags. I definitely struggled with including all the elements and characters, and even moreso with making them vaguely fit the rider-waite composition, but i think it ended up okay ish. OH and i completely forgot to draw mist swirling around them :( 19 the sun I was considering mianmian’s family for this one, but since I used her for star, I ended up with wwx and his parents instead. Once again I’m reinterpreting the card a bit - normally I think it symbolises incoming times of pure happiness and abundance, as well as a connection with the inner child, but I gave it more of a nostalgic or sentimental twist - wwx looking back at the brief glimpse of his happy childhood. 20 judgement another card that i struggle to interpret a bit... Here i actually used the tgcf tarot zine as a reference! In it judgement is summarised as “rebirth, following duty, absolution” SO i figured that nhs, mxy and wwx all together would fit pretty neatly... wwx achieving (public) absolution through clearing his own name after being reborn, and nhs sort of calling on wwx to expose jgy’s crimes... It’s a bit messy but not bad I think! 21 the world This ties very closely to my read on mdzs as a story - which is that it’s, at the end of the day, largely about cycles, and about how hard it is to break them, but how we gotta keep trying and have hope anyway. Or maybe more precisely, that the people directly involved with and influenced by the trauma of the past might not be able to get over said trauma and that the hope for healing from it will be shouldered by the new generation. Or something like that… Basically what i mean is that jc and wwx and lwj and lxc and nhs and jgy and all these people who were in the thick of the sunshot campaign and the siege are so profoundly affected by it that it genuinely feels by the end of the story like there is little hope for them to ever truly overcome that trauma and build a better future without repeating the same old mistakes - but there is a glimmer of hope in the new generation, specifically in jl and lsz. And it’s a bit paradoxical, because they have also been directly impacted by the past tragedies - lsz having his entire clan wiped out after wwx failed to protect them, jl losing both his parents to wwx’s mistakes - but despite that loss, and despite coming from arguably the two opposing sides of the past conflicts, they are both, in the end, capable of moving past that tragedy, of recognising the complicated nature of those conflicts (jl’s moment of clarity at the end is both heartbreaking and hopeful) and forging friendships between clans in the process. I honestly think that the extra where jl is struggling to assert his authority as sect leader, to treat his subjects well and to cooperate with other sects in a truly amicable way is the single hopeful ending note for the larger themes of the novel - it allows us to imagine that maybe these kids can learn from the mistakes of their elders rather than getting sucked in by resentment at those mistakes, and actually build a brighter future for the cultivation world. And sidenote, this is also why i have a soft spot for jin ling and lan sizhui as a ship... speaking of which their poses were directly referenced from the lovers card ehehe

Looking back, I’d like to add some symbol of jin ling’s trauma so that it mirrors baby wen yuan in the tree stump... maybe his father’s sword?

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #tarot

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wickedmilo · 4 years ago

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HYPOTHETICALLY | MILO & MORGAN

PLACE: Outside White Crest University TIMING: 10:05 PM SUMMARY: Milo approaches his old professor to ask her some suspiciously specific but definitely ‘hypothetical’ questions WRITING PARTNER: @mor-beck-more-problems CONTENT WARNINGS: Drug mentions, addiction mentions, mild references to PTSD

Milo felt a little ridiculous. It was beyond stupid to assume any professor had knowledge of the supernatural beyond what was taught on the curriculum, but he had been spending a lot of time around the university building due to his newfound friendship with Orion. And so many memories were resurfacing, memories of lectures on vampires, and discussions on werewolves. Presentations on witches, and how their representation in mainstream media was problematic. It was highly unlikely this focus meant anything more than Professor Beck had a secret love of Twilight. Honestly, absolutely nothing would surprise him at this point. But he had to try, he needed to try. Every day his control was growing stronger, albeit in incredibly small increments. But the work had to count for something, and settling into his new life was leaving him with far too much time to think. He still couldn’t remember very much of his death, and certainly no incriminating details that might lead him to discover the identity of his killer. But he did know the club had been crowded, he did know the nightlife was often frequented by students.

It had been burning at the back of his mind, leaving him restless, and uncomfortable. With no culprit, with no sire to name, he couldn’t blame anybody but himself for his situation. Maybe if he could look into the eyes of the person who had taken his life, if he could ask them why they had decided to turn him, he could lift the weight from his shoulders, he could finally stop feeling responsible in some twisted, and soul destroying way. Sure, he had made a dumb, and reckless decision. His entire life had been composed of them for years. But that didn’t mean he deserved to die. That didn’t mean he deserved to be broken, and abandoned. Left to figure things out on his own. Night had only just fallen, and he didn’t trust himself to slip into the school building unnoticed when there were still so many people around. So he waited outside like some crazy stalker. He probably counted as one, who was he kidding? He had looked up the schedule for Beck’s classes online in the hope of catching her on her way to the parking lot. She had technically finished her final lecture but part of him was worried she might end up working overtime. Wasn’t that something professors liked to do? The last thing he wanted was to stand for hours, staring at the patch of grass where Dani had last attacked him.

But for the first time in a long time, something seemed to go right. Dropping his cigarette to the floor, he recognised Beck as she hurried down the stone steps, and immediately began to make his way towards her. He wasn’t sure whether she would recognise him from her classes. He had graduated a year ago, and even then his attendance had been unreliable. When he did decide to make an appearance it was always smelling of pot, or coming down from the previous night’s substance of choice. “Professor Beck!” He called. “Uh, Morgan Beck?” Could he call her that? It felt weird, even though he was no longer one of her students. “Hey- I’m sorry, it’s- it’s Milo… Summers. You probably don’t remember me, but I was in your class a while back and I was wondering if I could maybe ask you some questions?”

Morgan didn’t like to stay late on campus anymore. She thanked the mother of earth for longer days, but time still got away from her now and then. When Morgan noticed the darkening sky this time, she thought she heard the hunter child stepping out of a room, knife raised. Quickly, she threw her things into her bag and started hurrying out the building. She couldn’t figure out if she would be safer going down the service stairs or trying to chase some straggler students to walk with for safety and so zig zagged through each. As she came out on the main floor, she saw a group of boys outside the big lecture hall. They looked like they were about to leave, and maybe she could walk close enough behind them but it would only be safe if they really were just students. Hunters didn’t go in packs on campus, did they? If she found any like that, would she even stand a chance? How far would she get before they pinned her down? How loud would she have to scream for anyone to come running? Morgan tripped on the stone steps out the building as she rushed past them.

She was moving so fast she didn’t see the other boy loitering nearby and when he called her name she screamed, backing away. But she knew this face. “M-milo,” she wheezed, trying to force air back into her lungs. “You startled me. I’m sorry.” She winced. “It’s good to see you again. I thought you graduated, though?” That wasn’t relevant. Morgan waved away the rest with her hand. “What is it that I can help you with, exactly? I’m heading home right now, to my family. They’re already expecting me. So, we can walk and talk, huh?” She looked briefly at the walkways that cut through the arts quad and set her sights on the one crowded with the most people. Not closest to the parking lot, but she could worry about that part later. “Scenic route sound good?”

Milo flinched, almost stumbling backwards at the sheer force of the sound. Morgan’s scream seemed to echo in his ears and for a moment he took the time to curse his new heightened senses. “Fuck-” He breathed, staring at his old professor with a look of shock of his face. If he still needed oxygen he knew he would be catching his breath right about now. He shouldn’t judge really, there could be any number of reasons she was so easily scared. But it was the last reaction he had been expecting from her, and therefore the last reaction he had been prepared for. “No shit, I startled you.” He laughed, calming down after such a jarring response to his presence. In a way, it almost worked out. The distraction was making it far too easy not to dwell on why he was here, on what he was about to ask. “Yeah, last year.” He agreed, weirdly flattered that she remembered him although he doubted she didn’t have fond memories.

At the mention of her family, he felt an unexpected pang of guilt. Maybe it wasn’t fair to approach her after work. If there had been any other way to do this, he liked to think he would have made the effort to find it. “I’m sorry,” he insisted. “We can walk and talk, it won’t take long.” He wasn’t sure why he was promising that when he couldn’t possibly know, but it felt like the right thing to say. “Uh…” A frown creased his brow as he eyed the route she was choosing to the parking lot. Something was definitely bothering her, but it wasn’t exactly his place to try and figure out what. “Sure?” He said, unable to hide the fact that he was a little confused by her behaviour. Brushing off any concern, he pushed down every part of himself not entirely convinced this was a good idea. He needed to find who had done this to him. Letting it go simply wasn’t an option, and Morgan Beck was his first lead. “I have some questions about- well, about the supernatural.”

Morgan tried to cover her fright with a knowing laugh. This is fine! I’m definitely not freshly traumatized! The important thing was that Milo had agreed to walk with her along a nice, busy, public route with lots of witnesses. She made a point of waving to a faculty member as they walked. She didn’t know the woman, but she waved back awkwardly, trying to place Morgan in her head, and would therefore maybe remember her and who she was last seen with. She was so busy looking for someone else to spot her, someone she actually knew who might care a little bit, she almost missed Milo’s question. “The--supernatural? Like, um, one of the texts we studied? Or a project you’re doing on your own? Or--” Or the real thing. Including who and what she was. “Maybe if you could, uh, be more specific, I’ll know if I can help.”

Unable to tear his gaze away from Morgan, her odd behaviour was becoming increasingly obvious to Milo. But he wasn’t sure pushing her to explain what was wrong would help either of them. If anything, it would probably result in her running from him, and he was so desperate for answers to his questions he couldn’t bring himself to risk it. If she continued to look so genuinely frightened, he would ask her before he left. Until then, he decided he would do his best to ignore the waves, the long routes, and the stumbling over her words. “Uh, no… not really.” He admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “More like… whether you believe in it?” He mentally prepared himself for any number of reactions, namely laughter, or claims of his insanity. If there was a more subtle way of asking, one that didn’t make him sound like a conspiracy theorist, he would jump on it. But as far as he could tell, this was the only real way of being direct. “Look, I know it sounds…” Crazy, ridiculous, insane, like a terrible fucking joke. “I know it does- I’m only curious. You focused on it a lot in your lectures, you know?”

He didn’t sound like he was goading her, Morgan had to admit. If he was a hunter, he sounded a lot more nervous than he had any reason to be. At last she slowed and turned to look at him beside her. She had killed too many people to believe she could tell what a murderer looked like. But he didn’t look like he was cutting her open in his mind. He looked sad, maybe even desperate.

“I did, yeah,” she admitted quietly. “I believe in a lot of things most people don’t. Including a lot of the things I talked about in class. Not in the way, exactly, they’re portrayed in books. But those...ideas, those figures, those people…” She looked sidelong at Milo again. “I know of a lot more resources than novels written by humans. What is it that you’re afraid of telling me, Milo?”

Slowing to Morgan’s pace, Milo continued to watch her, almost analysing her to determine what was causing her so much stress. It was impossible to know, not without her telling him, but this town had thrown an impossible amount of shit his way, and he was beginning to realise he wasn’t the only person to fall victim to the Weird of White Crest. Was Morgan Beck stressed? Or had she seen something? Maybe something she wasn’t supposed to see? Surprised by her sudden shift in demeanour, her voice was quiet when she spoke again, and it forced him to focus. The panic of before seemed to fade away, replaced by a genuine softness that he remembered from her lectures. He hadn’t been expecting an immediate yes, and he couldn’t hide the fact that it had taken him by surprise, but he was immensely relieved to realise they might be on the same page... sort of. “Wait- you do?” He echoed, as though he needed confirmation before being able to accept what he was hearing. “You believe in the supernatural? You’re not fucking with me?” If he had been unsure of this meeting before, he was finally convinced he had approached the right person. She clearly wasn’t going to judge him, and she was willing to answer him honestly. That was good.

People. The word was emphasised in a way that only furthered his suspicion. It almost sounded as though she had argued with others in the past, debated whether supernatural creatures counted as people, or whether they should be written off as monsters. Nearly getting lost in thought, it took him a few seconds to register Morgan’s own question, and he came to a sudden halt, eyes wide as he was hit by the implications of what she was asking him. How did she know there was more to this conversation? How did she know there was more to who he was now? Reaching absentmindedly to rub at the base of his neck, the scars there were incredibly faint, barely noticeable to anybody who wouldn’t be able to recognise them for what they were. They were evidence of his struggle, of his change, a reminder of everything he had lost. Feeling them beneath his fingertips encouraged him to stay. If he left then he wasn’t going to learn anything, and he would be no closer to finding the person responsible for taking his life. “Nothing.” He insisted, a breathless laugh escaping him as he did everything he could to sound casual. “I mean- I just wanted to ask, you know? It doesn’t- it doesn’t mean anything. I don’t have anything to hide- I mean, I’m not hiding anything. This is all… strictly hypothetical.”

Morgan didn’t miss the way Milo changed as soon as he heard her answer. She winced with guilt, remembering how upset Bex had been when she’d tried to deny the whole zombie regeneration thing. “I...do. Yes. I’m not fucking with you.” In a fairer world, this wouldn’t have to be such a fraught conversation, or a secret one. She wouldn’t have to wonder if one of her students was about to hurt her, or if she was walking into some sort of normie joke, or something else equally dangerous and stupid.

Milo must have been making the same calculations in his head, because no sooner did she do that than did he backpedal away from her follow up questions.

“I appreciate the whole ‘hypothetical’ thing, Milo, I do. But if you know something or saw something, if something happened to you…” She let out a long, stiff breath. “I’m not going to give you any shit if it happens to be something I’ve never heard of before. But I’ve had a year into the weird side of this town, so I’m pretty hard to surprise. Actually, you know what, I dare you to surprise me, hypothetically or not.”

Milo fell silent, too curious to know what his old professor wanted to say, but also too anxious to trust himself to speak without taking any time to filter his thoughts. It was uncomfortable, navigating such a strange conversation. He felt a little like he was walking on a tightrope. If he fell too far one way, he might never get the answer he was looking for. If he fell too far the other way, he might out himself as a vampire and potentially put himself in danger. A smile tugging at his lips, despite everything, he couldn’t help feeling amused by hearing a member of staff swear so openly. The humour very rapidly faded though, when he was reminded of why they were talking. If something happened to you… He wanted to ask whether something had happened to her, but he couldn’t seem to form the words. That wasn’t why he was here. He didn’t want to talk about what he was, he didn’t want to be asked about what he was. “Nothing happened to me.” He insisted, sounding more confident in the statement than he previously had, but answering too quickly to be convincing. “I told you, it’s hypothetical.”

He wasn’t sure his company was going to believe him, but so long as he didn’t prove anything, so long as he didn’t outright admit anything to Morgan, then he was safe, right? She would write him off as weird, or overly curious, and nothing more. At least, that’s what he told himself in order to force out what he really wanted to discuss. “Okay… hypothetically,” he started, his voice slow as he attempted to gauge her reaction to his words. “Do you think there might be vampires at this college, and hypothetically, do you think these vampires maybe sometimes go to the bars and clubs downtown?”

Whatever lingering fears Morgan had about Milo being a hunter or hunter-adjacent fell away as he stumbled through his question. When he finally came out with it, she had to stop herself from smirking with how banal it turned out to be. “Hypothetically, yes,” she said. “Easily. I would be more surprised if there weren’t any, with how reckless and vulnerable undergrads are. And, hypothetically, vampires would just be people with an unfortunately limited appetite and sunlight aversion, so of course they’d do all the normal things people do. Maybe even be a part of night life even more. I mean, unless, you know, they hypothetically popped out of the grave as grr-argh spawn-y times. Because that’s, you know...possibly a thing.” Stars above, she hated this.

At last Morgan stopped and turned to face Milo head on. “Milo, are you trying to say you maybe met a vampire at a club? Because if you met a vampire at a club and you like them and want to keep talking to them, there’s nothing wrong with that, you just need to have really clear communication and honesty to make you’re being careful with each other.”

The sense of satisfaction Milo felt when Morgan said yes was short lived. He had somebody who was telling him it was very possible the vampire who attacked him was attending the uni, or otherwise, might be an alumni. But he had been so focused on this step, he wasn’t sure how to move forward. What did he do with this now? Where did he go from here? Spawn-y. Huh. It wasn’t a term he had stumbled across and he was itching to ask what she meant, but sounding too eager would be counterproductive. He made a mental note to ask Harsh instead, adding it to the list already forming in his head. He really should start writing down his questions. No doubt the older vampire wouldn’t mind taking the time to answer them. Glancing up at the stars too, he frowned, unable to help himself. ‘Normal people’ because he was no longer normal. Because being supernatural wasn’t normal.

It was only when she spoke again that he was pulled back out of his thoughts, and he turned to look at Morgan with outright disbelief. She was being so casual, she didn’t seem worried about sounding insane, or obsessed like some desperate Twilight fangirl. She was talking about vampires like she knew they existed, like they were unquestionably real, a part of every day life, and it was just that simple. She seemed to be relaxing somewhat, which was why he allowed a laugh to escape him. Jeez, how much easier would his life be right now if she was right? If his biggest problem was knowing a vampire... “Why do you talk like that?” He asked finally, unable to help himself. “Like you’re so sure it all exists? I haven’t met a vampire, because they aren’t real… right? Like, nobody has met a vampire.” She wasn’t going to agree with him after so readily admitting she believed in their existence, but he was trying to avoid any further suspicion. “I’m just… I just wanted to know what you thought. So, hypothetically… and not for- not for like, malicious reasons, if somebody wanted to find a vampire, do you know how would they go about doing that?”

Morgan looked at Milo, unimpressed with his two steps forward, one step back pace. “You asked me what I thought and I told you I believe in a lot of weird shit. Why are you so surprised when I follow up with the truth? And I know it’s a struggle, working through your pride and your fear on one side and how much you want this information on the other side. Because people are rude and awful and having what you know about the world turned upside down is one heck of a process. But I don’t like talking about this stuff in detail until I know what it’s for. Or if, you know, hypothetically, it’s someone’s elaborate attempt to get something for their Tiktok feed. But, hypothetically, continuing from the premise that vampires are like people but dead and with blood and sun problems, finding one would probably depend on the vampire, wouldn’t it?” She looked at him archly, daring him to come clean.

Milo frowned, realising his bullshit was apparently transparent. He had never been a terrible liar, usually his lack of sobriety depended on being able to lie. But maybe things were different now, maybe too much was riding on this particular conversation. “I don’t have any pride.” He countered. “Or fear.” He added hurriedly, not wanting Morgan to assume he might be afraid. He wasn’t afraid, he refused to be afraid. As far as he was concerned, the person he was trying to find had already done their worst. Setting his jaw, he listened to her assurances, too frustrated by the fact that she was onto him to really appreciate her words.

“Why would you care what it’s for?” He asked, wondering whether she knew more than he had first assumed. For a while, he had been under the impression she had seen something. Something to make her suspect, something to make her believe. Nothing more than that. But what if it was more than that? What if she knew someone? Or what if she wasn’t human herself? He had so many burning questions, but he knew it would be stupid to ask them. “Can we hypothetically say it’s for a book I’m writing?”

Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “Because the right information in the wrong hands can get people killed,” she replied evenly. “And no, a book isn’t good enough. I’m sorry. I get that you’re not ready to trust me. You weren’t exactly up in my office hours all the time. But I can’t talk about something like this in detail on a hypothetical that vague and tired. I’ve even used that one before.” She came close and squeezed his shoulder gently, softening again. “When you’re ready to talk, know I’m going to probably believe you, or at least listen attentively in good faith to what you have to say.” She winced, another obvious idea coming to her. “Unless you really are writing a book. In which case I fully support your writing endeavours, but I can’t ethically disclose certain information for your research. But I’ll read your drafts or whatever else you might want my help with!” She looked into his eyes, searching. She had no idea what was wrong with this kid, why he was so worked up about this that he’d come back to campus to find her, but she had a feeling it wasn’t anything nice or happy. “Are you taking good care of yourself, this stuff aside?”

Realistically, Milo knew he should appreciate Morgan’s discretion. In withholding the information, she was stopping people from getting to it who might genuinely be trying to harm vampires, to seek them out and hurt them. She was essentially protecting him, although hopefully she didn’t know that. Still, all he could feel was annoyance, and anger. He was so close to somebody who might be able to help him, who probably could help him, but he couldn’t tell her what he was. It didn’t feel right to be so outwardly open. The few people who knew had found out through means of their own. They were supernatural themselves, or they were Hunters, and Slayers. He had yet to volunteer the information, and doing so with somebody he barely knew felt like a ridiculous risk to take. It went against everything Harsh had told him about how to stay out of trouble. Glaring at her when she rested a hand on his shoulder, he begrudgingly took a breath so that she wouldn’t be able to feel the unnatural stillness of his chest.

“I know you’re going to believe me, that’s the fucking problem.” He muttered, shrugging off her contact. “Fuck the ethics.” He continued, growing more frustrated with each passing second. “I already told you this isn’t malicious, what more do you want from me? It isn’t like I’m asking for a step by step guide on how to kill vampires, that isn’t why I’m here.” A bitter laugh escaping him when she asked him if he was taking care of himself, he wasn’t sure why it mattered. She wasn’t willing to help him, why should she give a shit about his wellbeing? “No.” He admitted, a petulant edge to his voice. “Self care isn’t really my thing.”

“The fucking ethics are how we survive!” Morgan hissed. Then, realizing what she’d done, she added quickly, “All of us. Normie, not-normie, living, undead, everyone. And other people’s lives aren’t fodder for morbid fascination, just because they’re undead. There’s lots of ways to hurt people, Milo. I’d rather have the truth. I’ll take some proof that you aren’t being reckless, with yourself or this vampire person you’re looking for.” And Milo’s admission of not doing self care wasn’t helping her worry. Stars above, was this kid looking to get turned? On purpose?

“That’s not really encouraging, Milo,” she said softly. “This world you’re asking about isn’t Teen Wolf and Vampire Diaries bullshit. It’s not a game. Where are you staying right now, do you need a ride home?”

Milo stared at Morgan, stunned into silence by her words before she hurriedly corrected herself, adding to her statement in an attempt to alter the meaning. Surely, he was being paranoid. Surely, he was imagining things. It didn’t make any sense. “Uh huh…” He said, his voice slow, and deliberate. Making it clear he didn’t believe she was saying what she really meant. She had done the very same thing to him. If they were going to incessantly dance around the subject, he was going to make her work equally as hard. “Sure.” He continued to glare, his annoyance incredibly evident in his expression. I’d rather have the truth. He wanted to bite back, to tell her she hadn’t earned it, he wasn’t going to give it away quite so easily. But he forced himself to hold his tongue. “Reckless how?” He demanded. “Honestly, look at me.” He gestured to his slim frame, knowing his body appeared far weaker than it actually was. “What do you think I’m going to do? Go on some mad vampire killing spree? I don’t get it, I’m not exactly asking for sensitive information.” He didn’t care about how to kill, or how to trap. He only wanted to find someone. That felt innocent enough.

He let a bitter laugh escape him, feigning derision at the mention of the two CW shows. “I don’t know whether to be more offended by the fact that you think I watch those shows, or the fact that you think I take them as fucking truth.” He snapped. Half being serious as he realised she clearly did think he believed those shows were accurate representations of supernatural life. Jeez, he must have given a really bad impression during the time he spent in her classes. “Don’t pretend you care.” He let out a huff of breath, pushing his hair back away from his face. He was already desperate for another cigarette, for a way to dispel the anger settling in his chest. “If you gave a shit you’d help me, I don’t need a ride home.”

“There are lots of ways to be reckless, Milo!” Morgan said. “If you really think vampire-murder is the only stupid thing you could try to do, you are way too human for what you are looking into. The fact that you think there’s some generic catch-all method for finding one, that you don’t see how telling you how to stalk them without any context--” She shook her head, baffled, then took a breath. Milo was in over his head. He didn’t know what he was doing, and he had to be horribly, painfully desperate to be going after something like this so hard.

After a slow exhale, she said more softly, “I do give a shit. Many, actually. But I am not going to help you destroy yourself. Whatever is really making you this miserable and desperate, yes, I will help you with, however I can. But there is nothing good down this road. I can promise you that much. I know this isn’t what you were hoping for, and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry it hurts. I know it has to hurt so badly right now, but going after this isn’t the way.” She reached into her bag and wrote her number and social media info on a post-it. “Will you take this, please? I really do want to help, Milo. Just not in a way that will make things worse for you later.”

Milo allowed a bitter laugh to escape him, unable to believe he was being called too human. He played off his amusement, directing it towards the former half of Morgan’s statement. “I’ve been plenty stupid in the past, and I’m still here.” He countered. “I don’t think there’s some generic method, that’s literally why I’m asking you for help. But whatever- it’s pretty clear I’m not about to get any.” Continuing to glare at his old professor, raising his eyebrows to show her he didn’t believe a word she was telling him, he crossed his arms over his chest. It felt good to put a barrier between them both, as though he could protect himself from the hurt and frustration of getting absolutely nowhere. But it also allowed him to hide his clenched fists, hide just how angry he actually was. “Why does everybody think I’m out to destroy myself?” He demanded, although he already knew the answer. It was painfully obvious, after all. He had given people so many reasons to be concerned for his well being, obviously they were going to take notice.

Setting his jaw as Morgan attempted to assure him, the speech was dangerously close to the one his mom used to give him when she found him curled up on the bathroom floor, or shivering in his bed after a difficult comedown. The sentiment hadn’t worked back then, and it wasn’t about to work now. “You don’t know shit.” He snapped, annoyed she was presuming to understand what he was going through. “But thanks,” he snatched the number, resisting the urge to tear it to shreds. It might be useful in the future, he had no way of knowing, and he didn’t want to take that kind of risk. “I guess I’ll call you if I ever need someone to make me feel like an idiot.” He muttered, crumpling the paper, forcing it into the pocket of his hoodie. “Have a good night- or don’t. I’m not going to pretend to care.” Turning on his heel before Morgan could comment, he found a spiteful sense of satisfaction in leaving her alone when she was so obviously feeling nervous. Maybe later that satisfaction would turn to guilt, but for now he allowed himself to revel in it. He was going to find this vampire, with or without her help. And if he got himself into trouble doing so, well, she would just have to deal with being partially responsible.

#milo and morgan #c:morgan #addiction tw #drug mention tw #drug manipulation tw #ptsd mention tw

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

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FIC: Welcome To Backwater ch.3 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch is getting out and meeting new people, if only things weren’t a little...ominous.

Content: Spicyhoney, Midwest Gothic

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Read Chapter Three on AO3

Read it here!

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The thing was, Stretch had never really lived on his own. For most of his life, he’d lived with his brother. Taking care of Blue when he was a kiddo, then sort of swapping roles for a while as they got older. By the time they were on the surface, they had a pretty good give and take going when it came to cohabitation. Living with his bro was never the problem.

It was moving back in with him after everything went down that was the hard part. His sympathy felt more like stifling pity, the relentless cheer Stretch normally adored was grating, and as much as Stretch loved his brother, (and he did, his brother was the coolest and fuck anyone who didn’t see that), he just…he couldn’t. Not right now.

That all came to a head and landed him on the midnight bus to anywhere and living here essentially alone was turning into a balancing act between being necessarily solitary and lonely enough to start befriending the local spooks, and now look at him.

Standing in Red’s living room and armed with a lamp shaped like a flamingo, probably about to be murdered for the hundred bucks in the front register and Red’s shitty microwave, and his first stupid thought was, holy shit, he’s gorgeous.

Not that it wasn’t a valid thought, but it didn’t do much to better the situation. A skeleton Monster (another one? really?) that was almost as tall as he was, but instead of Stretch’s scrawny bod and knobby knees poking out of his cargo shorts, this guy looked like he’d just stepped out of GQ’s leather edition, available only with a valid ID. From those slender hips with all the right curves all the way up to the delicate intricacies of his cervical vertebra, he was like a book written in braille, begging for a touch. Those cheekbones alone were sharp enough to do more damage than any damn lamp, fuck, he should have to carry a weapons license for those things, they were sure as hell giving Stretch a good stab in the libido.

Mystery guy only stood there in Red living room, cool and calm in spite of the fact he was wearing a sleek leather jacket and knee-high damn motorcycle boots, (fuck, those legs), on a sweltering day. Didn’t even bother to pull his hands out of his jeans pockets, like he was hanging around patiently for a fucking takeout order instead of starring in a home invasion.

The guy raised a browbone, and fuck, how did even the scar running through his socket seem sexy? “Well?” Mystery Man said, “Nothing else to say?”

That broke the spell. Well, kinda, holy shit, take two. That voice, it was almost rich enough to pour into a cup, but damn, if Sugar Tongue here dusted Red, what was Stretch gonna tell the cops? That he was too busy getting seduced by those dark molasses wiles to do anything about it?

Stretch brandished the lamp again and blustered out, “i asked you first!”

The guy sighed heavily and for half an idiot second, Stretch felt bad for disappointing him. “If we’re going to continue down this path of childish competition, then I was here first. Would you care to offer a rebuttal? Or is that word too complicated for you, I’d make an attempt to bring it down to your level, but I don’t have the time to journey back out of the realm of stupidity today.”

That was enough to snap him out of this guy’s erotic stupidity spell. Great, he was a murderer and a dick, Stretch should’ve known. No one with hips like that could be on the side of good. He raised the lamp again threateningly, flamingo-beak facing front, “the only butt around here is gonna be yours when i kick it!”

The guy only rolled his eye lights, deep crimson, huh, how about that. “Ah, how refreshing it is to have a chance to engage in such cunning debate,” he drawled. “But as enchanting as this has been, let me interrupt the vigilante plotline you seem to be starting. I’m only here to drop off a package for my brother.”

“brother?” Stretch parroted dumbly. Oh. Ohhhhh, for fuck’s sake he was an idiot. Red eye lights, skeleton monster, all he was missing was a fucking name tag that said, ‘Red’s Tall Brother, Please Do Not Ambush.’

Well, that was one way to make a first impression.

Stretch sheepishly lowered the lamp, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “oh. uh, sorry about that, i’m a little on edge.”

“On edge, are you,” the guy repeated. One corner of his mouth pulled upward in a sardonic little smile, another sign of the unfairness of life that it only made him look even more appealing, if that were possible. Sex on legs and that voice? Some guys cheated to role for charisma twice was all Stretch was saying. “Ah, aren’t life’s little ironies precious.”

Before Stretch could figure out what the heck that meant, he heard the familiar thump and bump of Red hurrying down the hallway. The door was flung open hard enough to bounce against the opposite wall and Red paused in the doorway, taking in the scene. His brother standing there is all his sexy glory, completely unconcerned and weaponless, and Stretch still sweaty and disheveled from trekking through the heat outside, standing there with a lamp in his hands trying to look like he hadn’t been ready to bonk the guy on the noggin like the first chapter of an Agatha Christie novel.

Red was snickering before Stretch could even scramble for any sort of excuse, “whatcha gonna do with the lamp, armstrong, knock his lights out?”

“i was improvising,” Stretch mumbled. He plunked the hideous thing back on the table, fumbling to plug it back in. "you didn't tell me you had a brother."

"no?” Red set both hands on the top of his cane to lean against it and innocent was not a voice he wore well, nope. “musta slipped my mind."

"Your mind is ever slippery, brother," said brother put forth in a clipped tone, "Somehow, you managed to forget to mention this…person…to me as well."

"and 'cause i did you got to have an excitin' first meeting,” Red said, abandoning innocence for pure mischief. He gave them both a broad wink, “ain't that right?"

About the only thing Stretch and this guy had in common was the mutual dirty looks they gave back to that.

“only if you get your thrills from a criminal sort of meet and greet,” Stretch said.

"Yes," the brother said irritably, "Very exciting. And now that we’ve all confirmed who I am, would you care to explain who this is?”

Red’s grin widened, his gold tooth winking in the mellow sunlight streaming in through the tatty curtains. “my new clerk.”

“Your—” That irritation melted into horror as the guy’s spine went ruler-straight as if someone jammed a yardstick up his ass before he blustered out, “have you lost your tiny little mind?”

Stretch couldn’t help feeling a little insulted. It was a little grocery store, not the Ritz, they didn’t need all their cheese on the crackers to manage selling ‘em, thanks.

Red didn’t seem bothered by his brother’s disbelief, he only shrugged, “nah. don’t think so, anyway.” Then with a touch of acid, “not like you’re around long enough to find out.”

His brother ignored that. Seemed like he was still stuck on Red’s audacity in hiring a clerk. “You have,” he said wonderingly, “You’ve completely lost your mind this time. And you’re keeping him right here in the house?”

“room upstairs, but yeah.” Red sucked on his teeth loudly, grinning his wide, feral grin. “got a problem with that, little brother?”

Conversation briefly ceased as they both seemed to be trying to communicate in glares and Stretch didn’t know enough of the language to interpret, but he didn’t think it was going well. Especially not when the tall drink of brother abruptly turned to him and said, “Go get your things.”

Stretch only gaped at him, too surprised to even protest, of all the fucking arrogance—!

“Go get your things,” he repeated, a touch louder and flavored with a dash of impatience, “and I’ll take you to the bus depot right now.”

“you’re serious,” Stretch said in disbelief. He shook his head with a short laugh, “heh, sorry, champ, not going anywhere on your say-so. besides, i just got here, if i leave now, I’ll never get voted prom queen.”

The other guy’s face didn’t so much as twitch and intensity in that crimson gaze made Stretch want to look away. He resisted, meeting that glare defiantly, even as he said, quietly, “If you stay long enough, leaving won’t be an option.”

Stretch only snorted, seriously, what was with this guy? “and you’re calling your brother a nut?”

He didn’t bother to answer that one, only swung around and pointed an accusing finger in Red’s direction. “This is on you, brother.”

Red only gave him that easy, sharky grin back. “always was.”

Stretch thought that was the end of it. The guy nodded shortly and started towards the door, brushing past Stretch to get to it and that was where he paused. He turned towards Stretch, those red eye lights moving over him searchingly. The end table with its returned lamp was at Stretch’s back, there was nowhere to go as Red’s brother loomed into his personal space, leaning in uncomfortably close, only inches away from Stretch’s collarbone as he sniffed delicately.

“Hm,” he said thoughtfully.

Stretch resisted the urge to give his armpits a testing sniff. “what?”

But he only drew away and gave Red another unreadable look. Red nodded once.

What. The. Fuck?

“Fine,” the guy sighed out. His hands curled into brief fists, sharpened fingertips pressed into his palms. “It’s your problem, brother, you deal with it.”

“don’t i always?”

“Perhaps with the least amount of property damage possible, if you don’t mind.” He gave Stretch another dismissive half-glance. “Now if you’ll excuse me, brother."

He turned and started to walk off and yeesh, even the way he walked caught the eye, damn, hate to see you leave, love to watch those hips go.

Down boy, Stretch told his libido. There was enough weird shit going on and he really didn’t need to take another hike down that path. Besides, with hot stuff constantly looking at him like something to be scraped off the bottom of his shoe, it wasn’t exactly opening the door for romance. He’d had his fill of assholes, a lifetime’s worth, and just case it might be a question, Stretch proved he was still an enormous idiot by calling to that leather-clad back, “didn’t catch your name.”

The guy didn’t even pause. “Then next time you should be a better hunter.”

With that he was out the apartment door. Stretch and Red stood there and listened to the cow bell jangling loudly, the door slamming, and then the roar of an engine speeding away.

Only then did Red speak again, with laconic ease, “if you’re done staring at my baby bro’s ass, y’can come eat with me.”

“i—" wasn’t, Stretch started to say, then shrugged. Busted. “don’t worry, i don’t think i’m his type.”

“don’t think too hard, gonna hurt yourself,” Red said, dry as a mouthful of sand. “what’s the problem, don’t think you got the right size font?”

“let’s not get into that, it’ll take too long,” Stretch tossed back. “and don’t take this the wrong way but your brother is a dick.”

“yeah,” Red said fondly, “ain’t he great? now, before you tried to light up my bro’s life, i was setting up for dinner. if you grab that bag, you can have some, too.”

Stretch followed where Red pointed with his cane to find an insulated bag sitting by the sofa, black because fuck knew Fonzie’s stunt double needed matching accessories. He lugged the bag along as he followed Red back down the hallway into the store, setting it on the counter while Red struggled into the chair. There were a couple of dusty bowls already sitting there next to the beers and Red gave them a cursory wipe with a rag of dubious cleanliness.

“my bro got his own place a while back,” Red unzipped the bag and pulled out a large ceramic casserole dish. “but he still drops off food for me coupla times a week. says that eating at ‘mama’s’ along with a double daily dose of mac and cheese ain’t healthy.”

Stretch watched, reluctantly intrigued. “he doesn’t stick around for dinner?”

“nah, my bro has kinda a special diet.” Red pulled the lid off and steam rose out, along with the gorgeous, rich smell of sinfully delicious food. Long greenish noodles drenched in some sort of glistening sauce with chunks of more green and purple veggies mixed in, and dusted with a heavy sprinkle of parmesan. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything like what they brought to the table at Olive Garden.

Stretch inhaled deeply, his mouth already watering. “holy shit, he cooked this?”

“cooked it, hell,” Red spooned out portions, uncaring about the little drips that fell on the counter and pushing the first bowl over to Stretch. “he makes the pasta by hand. planted the veggies, too, like he’s fucking ol’ macdonald on his farm. he made that stew i gave ya the first night, too.”

Stretch barely heard him because he’d already taken his first bite and had he really thought Red’s brother looked sexy? He was wrong, totally wrong, because this was the sexy, this delectably orgasmic taste exploding across his tongue in a blend of garlic and vinaigrette, carried on perfectly al dente noodles mingling with the bright crunch of zucchini and beets. It was hard not to moan aloud as he chewed down that first bite and went back for another.

“is he single? i changed my mind, holy fuck, i’m gonna marry him and chain him to the stove,” Thoughtlessly said around a mouthful of deliciousness and Stretch winced as he realized what he said, “sorry, sorry, bad joke.”

Red only slurped up more noodles, teeth glistening with oil and the long strands flinging droplets of sauce as he sucked them in. “he’s single, but good luck putting a leash on him. go ahead, ask him out next time he stops by. i could use a good laugh, ‘cause, honey, you two hooking up would be a joke.”

Absurdly stung, Stretch shrugged and tried on a laugh, “hey, i’m a hell of a catch. gainfully employed and everything.”

“oh, yeah, you’re the seafood special, all right.” Red’s sharp teeth sheared easily through the noodles as he took another bite. “rebound fucks never work out, kid.”

“how did you—" Stretch stopped with a groan as Red raised both brow bones mockingly. He slumped back over his bowl, twirling up noodles on his fork. “yeah, yeah, handed that over with gift wrap.”

“yep, you did.” Red clapped Stretch on the shoulder with enough force to make him drop his fork. “the list of reasons people end up in the middle of nowhereville is pretty fucking short, kid, an’ you got that look. don’t worry ‘bout it, you got a place to stay here as long as you want.”

The unexpected kindness from Red of all people made him blink hard, but then, that wasn’t really giving him a fair shake, was it, not when he’d given Stretch a job to begin with and kept him semi-fed. “thanks.”

“don’t mention it, to anyone.” Red said dryly. He sucked down the last of the noodles and pushed the bowl away with a sigh. “gonna ruin my rep. make you a deal, air conditioning’s better down here. if you wanna watch tv in my place, y’can go ahead, if,” he stressed, “if ya call your brother. bet he’s out of his mind worried by now.”

“how—” Stretch shut his mouth hard enough for his teeth to click together. Red only looked serenely back, the chair creaking as he leaned back and laced his hands together over his middle. He looked away, not wanting to see what else might shine knowingly in those crimson eye lights. “i’ll text him.”

“good enough,” Red said agreeably. He pulled a can of beer off the plastic ring and popped it open, gulping some down and belching with mellow contentment. “where the fuck did you go earlier, i been waiting on these beers.”

Stretch’s bowl was empty and he ran a finger along the inside of it, licking away the smear of leftover sauce. “to see a movie.”

Red’s mouth opened in a silent ‘ah’. “didja say hi to doris?”

That was not what Stretch expected. “i…yes. you’ve seen her?” Stupid to think Red hadn’t, he’d been here for a long time, hard to believe he’d never stepped into the theater and any Monster with half a gram of sense would’ve noticed her.

“sure, loads of times,” Red said, confirming it. “sweet gal. don’t be offended if she don’t remember you right away, she’s gotta little problem with short term memory.” He pointed a finger at his temple and let his thumb drop like the hammer on a gun. “keep stoppin’ in and eventually you’ll stick. takes her a mo’ when i stop by, but she gets there.”

“good to know.” And it was. Any faint, stupid hurt that he wasn’t the first Monster in Doris’s unlife was a little eased by that tidbit. He probably would’ve been more upset if he went to see her again tomorrow and had to go through the intros again without it.

“okay, g’wan, get outta here,” Red shoved a beer in Stretch’s direction and waved him off. “just remember, wheel of fortune is on at 7.”

Stretch took the dirty bowls with him along with the serving dish, giving them a quick wash and setting them into Red’s already overflowing dish drainer. He spent the rest of the afternoon on the saggy sofa in the living room, watching reruns of ‘MASH’ and ‘Little House On the Prairie’ until Red closed shop for the Wheel.

That night Stretch had a strange dream. Vast trees towering over him and unstable ground beneath his feet. He stood in a puddle of ragged moonlight and when red eyes loomed out of the darkness, he met their stare and didn’t run. Not even when he saw the huge, dark shape that contained them, jagged white teeth in a gaping maw that gnashed and slavered, ready to consume him. The shape leapt at him and he couldn’t move, trapped by that gaze. He woke with a gasp before it landed, waking with a scream tangled up on his throat, clammy sheets sticking to his sweaty bones.

He lay for a moment on the thin mattress, catching his breath. His window was covered, had been since his second night here and he’d found an old blanket in his closet, tacked it up to keep out the blistering heat of the noontime sun. Now it kept out the midnight darkness and he didn’t even glance at it as he rolled to his feet and headed into the bathroom to splash cold water on his sweaty face.

He set both damp hands on the sides of the sink and looked at his dripping reflection. The only shadows in this room were the ones beneath his sockets. His skull was pale, his eye lights pinpricks of diffused white.

“liar,” he whispered to his reflection and watched as it whispered it silently back.

But that was one shipment of guilt he could offload right now.

Stretch shuffled back out and scooped his phone off the nightstand. He ignored the messages, the voicemails, and only tapped out a message of his own, hitting send before he could think of an excuse not to.

i’m okay, little brother, i’m safe. i’ll call soon.

It wasn’t a lie. Soon was relative, just like brothers.

He sank back down on his damp sheets and didn’t bother to turn out the lights.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #underswap sans #welcome to backwater

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ariainstars · 5 years ago

Text

Feminism (and Not) in Star Wars

Warning: unpopular opinions ahead.

During the last few years, I have often heard and read people arguing that the Star Wars sequels are “feminist”, that Rey in particular is a Mary Sue and, at worst, that “feminism ruined Star Wars.” So, I would like to add my two cents.

It cannot to be denied that the end of the sequels, and with it of the saga as a whole, is highly dissatisfying. But feminism is not what caused it.

The sequels are not feminist at all. Especially not in Star Wars, where the greatest hero Luke Skywalker had ended the conflict through compassion and forgiveness. TRoS in particular is a slap in the face of female dignity and virtue, both for the male protagonist’s mother and for his love interest.

Unfortunately, and that is one of my major issues with the sequels, many things are not being said or explained. This might be due to the fact that Episode VIII was subversive and that so many classic fans ranted and stormed against it; but that didn’t prevent Episode IX from showing, if not saying, a lot of things.

Star Wars is all about subtext, that’s what makes it compelling. Please:

Read between the lines.

Look at what is not being said but shown.

Compare the attitudes of different people in similar situations.

Rey

„You cannot deny the truth that is your family.” Lor San Tekka in The Force Awakens

Rey was introduced as a positive female character but then, over the course of three films, her moral corruption was displayed under the lame excuse of a black and white morality (“I am all the Sith” vs. “I am all the Jedi”).

Rey seemed like a reboot of Luke Skywalker at first, but watching her throughout TRoS we see her fail in all instances where Luke had proved himself a hero.

- Luke had forgiven his father despite all the pain he had inflicted on him and his friends. Rey stabbed the „bad guy”, who had repeatedly protected and comforted her, to death.

- Luke never asked Vader to help the Rebellion or to turn to the Light Side, he only wanted him back as his father. Rey assumed that she could make Ben Solo turn, give up the First Order and join the Resistance for her. She was thinking of her friends and her own validation, not of him.

- Luke had made peace by choosing peace. Rey fought until the bitter end.

- Luke had thrown his weapon away before Palpatine. Rey picked up a second weapon. (And both of them weren’t her own.)

- Luke had mourned his dead father. Rey didn’t shed a tear for the man she is bonded to by the Force.

- Luke went back to his friends to celebrate the new peace with them. Rey went back letting everyone celebrate her like the one who saved the galaxy on her own - the woman who was tempted to become the new evil ruler of the galaxy and had to rely on the alleged Bad Guy to save both her soul and her body.

- Luke had embodied compassion when Palpatine was all about hatred. Where he chose love and faith in his father, Rey chose violence and fear.

- Luke had briefly fallen prey to the Dark Side but it made him realize that he had no right to judge his father. Rey’s fall to the Dark Side did not make her wiser.

- Confronted by Vader’s disclosure of his true identity Luke was forced to face himself, to realize that he had been judgmental, arrogant and biased; and after the initial shock he accepted his origins as a part of himself. - Rey did not reconcile with Palpatine as a part of herself. (When she says to him “I don’t hate you” it’s not a sign of superior attitude. It merely shows that she sees him as separate from herself.)

- After realizing what he had done to his nephew, feeling responsible and disillusioned, Luke went into exile for years waiting for his death. - Rey also was appalled at herself, but she spent just a few minutes on Ahch-To until Luke appeared to her, this time telling her exactly what she would have wanted him to say to her on her first visit on the island. This scene was so ridiculously opposite to his attitude in TLJ that I believe he was a fantasy conjectured by her like Ben’s vision of his father.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rey failed where Ben had been strong.

- Ben killed Snoke to save Rey. Rey killed Palpatine to complete her Jedihood. (Or at least, what she believes being a Jedi means, i.e. “being always right and winning at all costs”.)

- Ben loved Rey despite all she did to him and took away from him, and she didn’t even honour his name in the end.

- Ben knew the stories of Luke, Vader and Palpatine well enough to wanted to end the Jedi and Sith at last and start something new and better. Rey only knew scraps of old tales and wanted to have them her own way.

- Ben had been under an evil influence in his mind since before he was born; when he finally turned to the Dark because he had nowhere else to go, he was 23. Rey gave in to her Dark Side minutes after meeting her “mother” in the Death Star ruin; the same happened to her again with Palpatine on Exegol.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the ruin of the second Death Star, Rey is at her lowest on the same spot where Luke had won over himself thirty years before in RoTJ.

- Vader had provoked Luke to make him turn - Kylo hadn’t.

- Vader hat traumatized Luke - Kylo had protected and spared Rey repeatedly.

- Vader hardly had had a kind word to spare for his son (except perhaps when he said to him “It is too late for me, son”) - Kylo had comforted her and shown her his human side.

- Vader had lured Luke into a trap twice in order to keep him by his side. - Kylo hadn’t, on the contrary, he wanted to prevent her from running into Palpatine’s trap.

- Luke did not know what had made Vader the way he was when he came to find him, but he was adamant to save him. - Rey knew by the time of their duel that Kylo was largely also a victim, and she stabbed him to death.

- Luke always fought fair. - Rey used the distraction made by Leia’s reaching out to him to impale him - the way she had seen him impaling Han.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is ridiculous to say that it’s a victory of Good over Evil when a young woman uses Jedi training to kill her master’s own son, who was on the defensive, with his mother’s help and blessing. That their weird connection, which was already introduced during the first two films, is explained by way of their being a dyad (one soul in two bodies) only makes it worse. Rey will rather kill the man she belongs to, or die herself, than admit that she needs him. If that is supposed to be “feminism”, it’s a very distorted idea of female independence and strength. Just like it’s not automatically “feminism” to make a girl pose as the heroine because she wants to be a Jedi no questions asked.

Fans discussed and argued about Rey’s family for years; it was a great move in TLJ when she admitted her parents were “nobodies” and that they left her on purpose. It was refreshing to see her carve her life and personality on her own. TRoS shattered this by making her the descendant of the most powerful man in the galaxy; and what’s worse, she wound up being a usurper just the way he was, taking over the Skywalker mantle.

The sequels are feminist only when the audience believes that it’s a happy ending if a female ends up alone with no one standing in her way. They are told from her point of view, so as viewers we will automatically believe that she’s the heroine and root for her (or not, but still believe that it’s her story). Looking only at the bare facts, Rey is much less heroic than she first seems.

At the end of TRoS Rey is alone with two dead people behind her, on a desert planet in company of a droid and with an old, wrinkled woman as her only interlocuter, the way she began, and her mind still has hardly developed beyond that of a child. She is willing to embrace the legacy of both Skywalker family and Jedi although the fate of Ben Solo should have taught her how fu***-up both of them were.

Rey doesn’t want to see. She’s in denial like when she pretended that her family was coming back for her on Jakku. Inside, she is still a child - everything she did was motivated by her desire to find the belonging she ardently craved. She can’t be blamed for that. But does that make her a “strong woman”, or even a “Mary Sue”, like many annoyed viewers claim? No.

Leia

“If you will not turn to the Dark Side, then perhaps she will.” Darth Vader in Return of the Jedi

There is something I find much worse than Ben’s patricide or Luke’s panic attack at the Jedi temple. Those were actions spurred by the moment and provoked by Snoke, and both men regretted it immediately. Leia’s behaviour shows an unpardonable attitude for entire decades. Being a trained Jedi herself, she could have taught her son - instead she sent him to his uncle. This seems a practical choice since she was politically active while her brother wanted to start a new Jedi Order, but from the novels we learn that Ben heard his parents arguing and talking about him like he was a monster ever since he was a child, and that when he was sent away this seemed to confirm to him that something was wrong with him and had to be fixed. (From the novels we also learn that he actually had no ambition to become a Jedi and wanted to be a pilot - true Skywalker and also Solo that he is -, but he had no say in the matter.)

After the tragedy at Luke’s temple and the rise of the First Order, Leia fought with the Resistance for years knowing that her own son was on the other side. What if she had met him and been forced to kill him (or if he had come into the situation, as we see in TLJ)? In TFA, she sent his own father to bomb Starkiller Base knowing well that their son might be on board. Leia had felt Snoke’s influence on Ben’s mind when he was still in her womb; so, she knew he had been manipulated for decades, but when she heard of his fall to the Dark Side, she automatically assumed he had made the choice to be “evil”. Only after he had been a part of a criminal organization for years Leia sent her estranged husband to him. She only reached out to him when she was on her deathbed, and I still am not certain whether she wanted to help him, or to make him stop fighting against the girl she had adopted in his stead.

Would Padmé have left her own son in the dumps? Never. Padmé refuted Obi-Wan’s disclosure about Anakin’s fall to the Dark Side adamantly, and went to a volcanic planet alone, with a highly advanced pregnancy, to see a terrorist and murderer because she still saw the good little boy he had been in him. And she would have gotten him out of that hell had Obi-Wan not interfered. If you don’t believe me, watch the scene again: Slowly but surely, Anakin’s expression changes totally on speaking with his wife. Padmé was literally reaching out to him, and she was succeeding. Love, as always, was stronger than anything else in him. And Padmé believed in her husband until her very last breath. “Obi-Wan, there is still good in him.”

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian of the eponymous tv show, is an outcast who earns his living with dubious business and has killed his fair share of people. But had anyone attempted to do to his little protégé what Snoke did to Ben Solo, I don’t doubt he would have marched on the Supremacy and strangled him with his bare hands. (At least, he would have died trying.) Han would probably have done the same, but Leia deliberately never told him of Snoke’s influence on her son’s mind ever since before his birth. By the time she finally does, as we witness in TFA, their son has been Kylo Ren for six years.

Leia, the princess, the general, the war heroine, had feared her son before he was even born because she sensed that he was like her own father. But she had no qualms and no fear accepting and instructing the granddaughter of her worst enemy. Why?

Because Rey doesn’t waver. She has no doubts. She is not conflicted between both Sides of the Force. In Leia’s eyes, Rey is pure Light Side, so she embraces her wholeheartedly as the child she always wanted. As far as I can remember, Leia has never, the way her brother did, offered love to anyone who didn’t fight on her side. And Rey, who had angrily confronted Luke for his moment of terror which “created Kylo Ren”, did not consider for a moment Leia’s responsibility towards her son. Despite training with Leia for a whole year, she never tells her about Luke’s failure which pushed her son into Snoke’s clutches. Nor does she realize that Leia’s love for her is not unconditional but that it is parallel to her Jedi training. Rey literally becomes both a little girl and a Jedi with Leia, down to wearing pure white for the whole of the last instalment of the trilogy.

Most fans admire Leia for her rebellious, spirited nature. Nothing wrong with that, but it’s not necessarily such a good thing if one spends one’s whole life fighting instead of learning how to preserve peace. Leia is adamant that the side she’s on must win. Like every Jedi before her, she does not know, want or even consider that what the Force actually needs is Balance; and that both her father and her son were not evil because they were strong on both Sides, but that this meant they might have found balance, had they not met opposition to this in everyone they knew.

Leia never approached her relationship to her father (at least as far as I know), never tried to understand him better and forgive him the way her brother had. Considering what Vader had done to her and her friends, she can’t be blamed for pushing away her memories and living in terror of the Dark Side. However, on the long run her incapacity or refusal for introspection is not a strength but a weakness. The one who paid the price is her son, and with his fall to the Dark, the whole galaxy again became prey to the terror that she herself had always fought against in first line.

Vader had been right after all: Leia did fall prey to the Dark Side, though unknowingly. Not only did she give up on her son, she actively helped evil come back to the galaxy by believing to do the right thing: she trained Palpatine’s granddaughter, taught her to deny her own fears and weaknesses, gave her justification for her actions, helped her killing her own “evil” son. If that is not the Dark Side’s influence, I don’t know what it is. Leia denied her son’s potential for good and given up on him long before his fate was sealed, and in the same way she closed her eyes on Rey’s potential for evil. The same “bad” son had to prevent the girl she had taken under her wing from becoming what the old devil Palpatine had in mind, at the cost of his life.

Conclusion

I am not an advocate for feminism on principle. If females can be independent and self-assured, if they shed the cloak of “damsel in distress”, on the downside this also means that they can be or become villains just like men. Many people tend to believe that a woman is naturally better, kinder, softer than a man. The Star Wars saga never bowed to this cliché.

The idea that a woman does not necessarily need a man is positive on its own, but it becomes poisonous if it undermines female trust in men. Star Wars has a long story of lonely, unhappy men (all three generations of Skywalkers), who were denied their natural right to be needed by their women and to keep their families together. One of Anakin’s dilemmas was that he saw Padmé as being too good for him and wanted to prove to her that he was equal to her in his own way. Ben, ironically, felt that he was not good enough for Rey because he was tainted by his larger-than-life heritage, so he wanted to “let the past die” and start something new and fresh with her.

A man naturally wishes to protect others, in particular wife and children. But in all three generations, we find these men whose personalities are split in two and cannot reconcile the two halves of their self: Anakin / Vader, Luke / Leia, Ben / Kylo. Due to the similarity in his two names, I expected the last of the Skywalker blood to finally heal the wound in his personality and become one. Had anyone wanted and needed both, Ben and Kylo, he might have. But Kylo was an aberration to everyone including Rey. Kylo was a villainous figure and as a male, he was aggressive and arrogant; but at least he made his own decisions and had chosen his own name, things Ben Solo never got to do.

This is not to say that the sequels are against strong females or prefer the guys over them: no, the guys f** up at least as often as the women do. But to pretend that Leia’s and / or Rey’s portrayal is unrealistically positive and that “feminism ruined Star Wars” is either extremely short-sighted or a mockery of femaleness.

It is true that women have more and larger roles in the ST, but I can’t see anything wrong with that. Not any more than with the fact that in the OT there was practically only Leia (the few other female characters almost had no impact on the story), and that there were few females in the PT, too. The Jedi Order consisted almost only of men, and you hardly hear anyone complain.

I know that many fans dislike Anakin and Ben, but please let us consider why.

One reason is that in an action movie we usually value coolness in a male protagonist above everything, and that the Skywalkers are hot-headed by nature. Most fans prefer Darth Vader, Han Solo and the likes to the Skywalker men.

Another reason is that the filmmakers have deliberately manipulated our emotions. The prequels are told from everybody’s point of view but Anakin’s, and the same goes for the sequels with Ben, despite the fact that the trilogies are about them, not about “the Jedi superheroes saviours of the galaxy” or “the almighty and untainted Skywalker family”. So, as viewers we automatically identify emotionally with anyone but them. We never get to really know the “villain’s” point of view, we only see how other people react to them; and since these reactions are much more often negative than positive, we get to the conclusion that both of them are inescapably evil, that they chose to be so, and that they deserve their terrible fate.

My suggestion: rewatch both trilogies again and this time try to look through Anakin’s or Ben’s eyes. (And possibly also read the novels and the Kylo Ren comics.)

You could be surprised.

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musette22 · 5 years ago

Note

So frat boy Chris, having sex with a Romanian prince on his Steve Rogers’ Camaro

Okay so nonnie, you’re kind of a mind reader. When you sent this in yesterday I was literally in the middle of writing this. I got a prompt just like this from another lovely anon a while ago and only just got around to writing it, so yeah, your timing is impeccable! I hope you enjoy this little car sex fic 😘

Baby, you can drive my car

Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan)

Word count: 3k

Rating: Explicit, so 18+ only please!

Read on AO3

Gif credit to @stevenrogered

***

“Chris?”

Sebastian’s voice emerges, a little muffled, from where his face is smushed in between Chris’s pectorals.

Chris hums in reply, not taking his eyes off the book he’s reading. “What’s up, baby?”

“I’m bored.”

Huffing out a laugh, Chris tears his gaze away from the page to peer down at Sebastian. “You could grab a book too, you know. What happened to that weird Gothic novel you were reading earlier? The Finnish one?”

Sebastian lifts his head to pout at him, pink bottom lip pushed out enticingly. “We’ve been reading all morning. I wanna go do something.”

“Like what?” Chris leans in to kiss the top of Sebastian’s head.

“Like…” Sebastian’s scrunches up his nose in thought. “Oh, let’s go for a drive?”

“Where to?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sebastian shrugs, leaning his chin on Chris’s sternum. “Just don’t want to sit inside on a day like this.”

“Okay,” Chris agrees, stroking Sebastian’s hair back off his forehead. “We could take the Lexus and drive up to the mountains?”

“Yeah. Or, hey, can we take the Camaro?”

Chris blinks. “Really?”

“You’ve barely taken her out since you got her.” Sebastian playfully narrows his eyes. “Wouldn’t want your sugar daddy to think you didn’t appreciate his present, right?”

Chris rolls his eyes at Sebastian’s gentle ribbing. “Okay, yeah. You’re right, it’s time I took her for a spin.”

He sits up, pushing Sebastian off of him in the process, who just rolls onto his side on the couch. He holds out a hand for Sebastian to grab onto, groaning as he pulls him up to his feet.

“Go put on some pants, I’ll go check the oil. Rendezvous in the garage in ten.”

Sebastian was right – it’s a lovely day. The sun is out and it’s unseasonably warm, so Chris shrugs off his cardigan twenty minutes in, leaving him in a short-sleeved, white t-shirt. He has his sunglasses on and his ball cap backwards on his head, the window rolled down, and his baby next to him in the passenger seat. So yeah, he has nothing to complain about.

Sebastian, wearing baggy basketball shorts, a black t-shirt and some Ray Bans, is loudly singing along to Journey. It’s a little off-key, but Chris thinks it’s all the more endearing for it. They drive up into the mountains for a little over an hour – not counting one stop at a gas station – before Sebastian tells him to pull over.

“We just had a pee break,” Chris protests mildly, “literally like fifteen minutes ago. Took ages, too.”

Instead of explaining, Sebastian laughs. “Just pull over, dork.”

Chris sighs, already doing as he’s told. He came to terms with the fact that he’s whipped a long time ago. “What is it?” he asks once he’s shut off the engine, turning towards Sebastian.

Sebastian just looks at him silently for a moment, then says, “Get out of the car.”

“What? Why?”

“I need you to switch places with me.”

“Why?” Chris repeats, puzzled. “If you wanna drive for a bit, you can just ask me that, you know.”

Sebastian just flashes him a grin and opens the passenger door, climbing out of the car. Chris shrugs, following suit and walking over to the other side.

“Get in,” Sebastian orders, though he’s making no move to take place behind the wheel.

Still confused, Chris eases himself into the passenger seat and looks up at Sebastian expectantly. “Now what?”

“Now,” Sebastian says, stepping closer, “I do this.”

Next thing Chris knows, he has a lap full of Sebastian. “What are you- oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Sebastian mimics, taking off his sunglasses and tossing them carelessly onto the unoccupied driver’s seat. His grey-blue eyes sparkle mischievously and Chris’s heartbeat speeds up; a Pavlovian response.

“Here?” he asks incredulously.

“Uh huh.” Sebastian removes Chris’s sunglasses too and leans in, lips only half an inch from his own when he asks, “That okay with you?”

“What if someone sees?”

“Chris. This is literally the most remote road I could find on the map and we’re half hidden by those trees anyway. We’re fine.”

“Oh, I see,” Chris drawls, pressing his lips to Sebastian’s briefly because they’re right there. “So you planned this, huh, you little minx.”

“Maybe,” Sebastian says, tilting his head coquettishly. He reaches back behind him to open the glove compartment, rummaging around for a moment before producing a bottle of lube that he must’ve put there while Chris was busy checking the tire pressure. “And I may or may not be going commando under these shorts.”

Chris groans, closing his eyes as he lets his head thunk back against the headrest. “Sebastian, baby… One of these days you’re gonna kill me, I swear to god.”

Sebastian takes off Chris’s cap and affectionately ruffles his hair. “Only if you haven’t killed me first. Y’know, with your dick.” Sebastian grins goofily at his own, horrendously bad joke and Chris’s heart flip flops in his chest with all kinds of emotions that are far too sappy for the situation they’re in.

“Please do us both a favor and shut up, sweetheart,” Chris says, knowing that Sebastian will be able to see right through the snark, to the love underneath.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, licking his lips. “Make me.”

“Hmmm, love a challenge.”

Winding one arm around Sebastian’s waist and grabbing his neck with the other, Chris pulls Sebastian in for a hard, filthy kiss. He doesn’t waste any time slipping him some tongue, tracing the tip of it along Sebastian’s perfectly straight, Hollywood teeth, which Chris loved even back when they were still endearingly crooked.

Sebastian moans, catching Chris’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucking on it, the way he knows makes Chris’s knees weak. Chris retaliates by kneading Sebastian’s pert little ass, pulling him closer, pleased to find that Sebastian is already half hard. That makes two of them, then.

“Wait,” Sebastian says after a minute or two of making out like a couple of horny teenagers. “Tilt back your seat.”

“Ooh, smart. Knew you were more than just a pretty face.” Chris slides back the seat as far as it’ll go, but even then there’s not a lot of space for them to move. “You’re gonna have to ride me, though. I can’t move much in this position.”

Sebastian smiles wolfishly. “Not a problem. Have you seen these thighs?” He squeezes Chris’s waist with said thighs to emphasize his point, and Chris let out a deep groan, hips already jerking upwards.

“Uh huh,” he says, through gritted teeth. “I’ve seen ‘em alright. They’re good thighs. Real nice.”

Despite being all bold and flirty up until this point, the simple compliment is enough to make Sebastian blush, his cheeks tinged with pink.

Jesus, he’s sweet. Chris has no choice but to kiss him again. While he’s at it, he slides his right hand into the back of Sebastian’s shorts, squeezing the firm flesh and dipping his fingers between his cheeks. When he rubs a fingertip over Sebastian’s entrance, he looks up in surprise.

“Did you –”

“In the bathroom,” Sebastian smirks.

“That’s why it took so long.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna complain about that some more or are you gonna fuck me?”

The words send a jolt of lust through Chris, his mind going blank as his cock eagerly fills up that final bit inside his jeans. “You want me to fuck you, baby?” he rumbles, tightening his grip on Sebastian’s ass.

Sebastian nods, heavy-lidded eyes trained on Chris’s. “Yeah, I want you to fuck me. Been wanting to feel you inside me all day, but you were too busy reading.”

Chris snorts. “I guess I’d better make up for it now, then.”

“Guess you’d better,” Sebastian nods, leaning down to kiss him again while starting to open Chris’s fly.

Chris lifts up his hips to help Sebastian shimmy down his jeans and boxers just far enough to take out his cock. The way Sebastian licks his lips at the sight tells him that he’s dying to suck him off – that pretty mouth is always ready – but that will have to wait until some other time.

“Wish I could get on my knees for you, but there’s no room in this fucking car,” Sebastian laments, echoing Chris’s thoughts.

“It was your idea to take the Camaro.”

Sebastian narrows his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Less talking, more fucking, thanks.” He wraps his hand around Chris’s length, tightening his grip and stroking him slowly, making Chris’s breath stutter in his throat.

“Oh, that’s it, baby,” he breathes. “God, that feels good.”

“Yeah?” Sebastian tips Chris head back with his free hand and places small, biting kisses to his throat, just below the line of his beard. “That’s all I want, Chris, to make you feel good.”

For that alone, Chris has to kiss him again. He tugs Sebastian’s head up by his hair.

“Unghh,” Sebastian says, delightfully responsive as always when Chris pulls on his hair a bit. Chris dives in and swallows his moans, jerking his hips into the tight circle of Sebastian’s fist.

“Chris, get in me,” Sebastian mutters impatiently.

“Yeah, okay,” Chris pants. “You need some fingers first?”

“No.” Sebastian’s pupils are blown, his mouth slick and red. “Yeah. I don’t know.”

“That’s a yes, then.” Chris replies, unwilling to take any risks with something like this. Sebastian whines in response, but Chris ignores him and grabs the lube, quickly coating his fingers in the stuff before shoving his hand down the back of Sebastian’s shorts again. Carefully, he pushes his forefinger inside, sliding in a second one as soon as he’s satisfied that Sebastian can take it.

“More,” Sebastian whispers already, pressing his forehead to Chris’s. Chris obliges, adding a third finger slowly before spreading them a little, opening Sebastian up bit by bit. He can’t really thrust much in this position, can’t really hit the spot, but he’ll make sure to make up for that later.

“You wanna take these off?” Chris asks when he thinks Sebastian is prepped enough, pulling the waistband of the basketball shorts.

Sebastian shakes his head quickly, all worked up and flushed now. “Nuh uh, just – pull ‘em aside.” He lifts his hips a little, scrunching up the fabric and pulling it aside, creating a wide gap.

“Huh,” Chris says, impressed, “you really did think about this.”

“Yup.” Sebastian peckshim on the lips quickly and adds, “Now shut up and put your dick in me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sebastian pushes himself up on his knees, hovering over Chris, while Chris holds his dick steady with his right hand and guides it to Sebastian’s opening. Both of them hold their breath as Chris presses against the slight resistance, pushing past Sebastian’s rim until he can slowly, steadily slide inside. It’s so warm in here, so tight and hot and perfect, and Chris has been with many people in his life, but none of them ever felt as good as his baby does.

“Oh, god,” Sebastian moans, “oh fuck, that feels – you feel so…”

“Feels good?” Chris manages to ask, making a concerted effort to drag his foggy mind back into consciousness so he can check if Sebastian’s doing okay.

“So good. So big, holy shit.” Sebastian shudders as he sinks down the final bit, settling in Chris’s lap with Chris now fully seated inside of him. “Why do I never get used to how you feel?” he marvels, burying his face in Chris’s neck. Chris runs his hands up and down Sebastian’s back, soothing him while he gets used to the feeling.

“Too much?”

“Fuck, no. Never toomuch of you, baby.”

For a moment, Chris has to close his eyes to stem the swell of emotions rising up inside his chest. He tightens his arms around Sebastian and squeezes, wishing not for the first time that they could just meld into one.

“Love you so much, baby,” he murmurs into Sebastian’s hair, pressing a kiss there for good measure.

“Love you, too,” Sebastian says quietly, before drawing in a deep breath. He lifts his head and locks his gaze with Chris’s, and for a long moment Chris gets lost in the depths of those steel-blue eyes.

Then, without warning, Sebastian suddenly lifts himself up a couple of inches before pushing back down, causing Chris’s eyes to roll back inside his skull at the sudden stab of sensation.

“Ooohh my fucking god,” Chris groans, hands sliding down Sebastian’s back, grabbing his ass. “Do that again.”

“Do this again?” Sebastian asks, lifting off and sinking down on Chris’s cock again, taking him all the way to the root. Chris growls out something obscene into Sebastian’s collarbone when Sebastian stays seated for a moment and rolls his hip, grinding himself down on Chris’s dick.

“Jesus, you’re so deep.” Sebastian’s eyes are wide, his voice high and breathy, almost like a whine.

“Think I could get deeper?” Chris asks, when Sebastian comes up for air.

Sebastian shrugs, but the way he’s trembling belies the casual gesture. “Worth a try, huh?”

Sebastian starts to ride him then, rising up and sinking down again, taking him to the hilt over and over. They don’t talk for a little while, at least not beyond some bitten off curses and moans, too focused on the way they’re making each other feel to speak. Sebastian’s breaths are coming shorter now, his t-shirt already sticking to his back from the effort it takes working himself on Chris’s cock in the unexpected heat of the day.

“You’re doing so well,” Chris whispers in Sebastian’s ear, knowing how the praise will affect him. “You look so damn good bouncing on my dick like this, sweetheart.”

Sebastian whimpers, trying his best to speed up even further while he tightens involuntarily around Chris’s length. It’s not easy, though, in this position, so Chris helps him out a little by letting his hips snap up, fucking up into him as hard as he’s able.

“Aahh,” Sebastian moans, jerking upright. “Right there, I’m – oh.”

Chris does it again, pushing in deep while Sebastian grinds down, mindlessly chasing his pleasure.

He’s beautiful like this. He’s beautiful always, but especially like this. Lost in pleasure, eyes dark and heavy-lidded and a flush on his cheeks, his red mouth open, looking almost surprised at how good he’s feeling. And that’s all Chris ever wants, too, to make Sebastian feel good. To make him feel better than anyone has made him feel before; to make him feel whole, and owned, and adored. All those things Sebastian craves but isn’t always able to ask for. So Chris doesn’t wait until he asks, he makes it his mission to give it to him whenever he can, anything he needs, whenever he needs it.

Because that’s the wayhe loves Sebastian: always, anything, completely.

A sharp sting brings him back to the present – Sebastian sinking his teeth into the meat of his shoulder. He gets bitey sometimes, when he’s close; a way to give expression to the building tension inside of him. Chris slides a hand up Sebastian’s back, tightly gripping the back of his neck. The hair at his nape is damp with sweat. Chris threads his fingers through it, tightening into a fist while he keeps pumping his hips, burying himself inside of Sebastian over and over.

“You getting close, sweetheart?”

It’s a sound Sebastian makes in reply, not a word, but Chris has learned to interpret all of Sebastian’s sounds by now, and he knows what this one means.

“Chris,” Sebastian breathes, voice barely audible, “Chris, Chris, ahh.”

“I’ve got you, Sebastian. I’ve got you.” He pulls Sebastian’s head back again, firmly but not roughly, and fits their mouths together. Sebastian kisses him deeply, desperately, hands coming up to grab his face as he squirms in his lap. His breath is coming fast, panting into Chris’s mouth, and when Chris reaches down into the front of Sebastian’s shorts and curls his fingers around his length, pulling him out, Sebastian makes a high, keening sound, his ass gripping impossibly tight around Chris’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Chris pants, “oh baby, you feel so good, so perfect – Jesus, you’re tight, sweetheart.”

“Come in me,”Sebastian says suddenly, giving Chris a wild, pleading look. “Come in me – please, Chris.”

Chris growls. “Youwant me to fill you up? That what you want? Fill you up with my come?”

“Yes, oh my god, p-please,” Sebastian stutters, “c’mon, do it. Now.”

Not used to being the one to receive orders when they’re like this, the words hit Chris hard, filling him with renewed urgency. He gabs hold of Sebastian’s waist, holding him in place as he jackhammers into him, knowing he’s nailing his prostate with every stroke from the way Sebastian jolts in his arms. Sebastian’s fingers dig into Chris’s biceps as he holds on and takes it, takes it so good – until Chris can’t take anymore and tips over the edge.

His rhythm inevitably falters as he comes, spilling inside the intoxicating heat of Sebastian’s body, giving him everything he’s got. Even as his climax rages through him, somehow Chris remembers to wrap a hand around Sebastian’s cock, jerking him fast and sloppily until Sebastian keens, the breath being punched out of him by his orgasm. Chris feels him spill, warm and sticky, over his hand, staining his abdomen and shorts.

Finally, they’re both spent, Sebastian slumping against Chris’s chest. He breathing hard, still, but it’s slowing now, and Chris tries to match his own breaths to Sebastian’s.

“Hmmm,” Sebastian hums finally, turning his head to press a wet, sloppy kiss to Chris’s throat. “Chris?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Love you.”

Sebastian’s always so pliant and sweet after sex, warm and cuddly and affectionate, and Chris cherishes those moments, soaking it all up to keep for later, when they’re apart.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” he whispers, runninga hand up and down Sebastian’s sweaty back in long, soothing strokes. “Youhappy now?”

“Very,” Sebastian says contentedly, and Chris can feel him smile against his neck.

“Good.” He presses a lingering kiss to the side of Sebastian’s face. “Thanks for helping me christen the Camaro.”

Sebastian snorts. “Anytime. And I mean that.”

#evanstan #rpf #real person fiction #chris evans x sebastian stan #my writing #my fic #chris evans #sebastian stan #smut #ao3

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kiseki-no-scenarios · 4 years ago

Photo

Omg this is such a cute request!! No worries anon, I understand you perfectly!

This will be separated into two parts, so part one will feature Rakuzan, Shutoku, and Kaijo.

Puppy Love! Part 1: Rakuzan, Shutoku, and Kaijo

Rakuzan

Mibuchi shivers, wrapping his arms around his body. “…I feel like someone’s watching us.” he states, before eyeing Mayuzumi suspiciously.

“I’m not. You’re not my type.” Mayuzumi’s deadpan answer earns a snort from Nebuya.

“You afraid of ghosts or something, Reo?” Nebuya teases, laughing when the black haired basketball player humphs angrily, hands on his hips.

“I’m not scared of ghosts!”

“Reo-nee, ghosts are scary though!” Hayama shivers. “What if it’s a vengeful ghost that died in this gym or something years ago?!”

“They say if it knows your name, it’ll kill you.”

“Chi-chan??? Where’d you hear that?!” Mibuchi yelps, hands pressed to his chest. “No one say my name out loud!!”

“Mibuchi Reo.” Mayuzumi snaps, ignoring Mibuchi’s pained cry. “I read it in one of my light novels.”

“Arf.”

“WAHHH!!!” Mibuchi screams, and Hayama manages to leap out of the way at the last minute before Mibuchi completely crashes into the shorter male.

“Reo-nee, what on earth…” Hayama laughs, before noticing the new arrival at the entrance of the gym. “Is that…a dog?”

“Arf.” The dog replies with a bark. It was hard to explain, but the dog appeared to be calmly appraising the scene, sitting back on its haunches.

“Woah, look at its eyes!” Nebuya raced forward, peering down at the dog. “It’s got a red eye and a yellow one!”

The others all observed the dog, finally noticing the mismatched, heterochromatic orbs.

“…It reminds me of Akashi.” Mayuzumi finally murmurs.

“Woah, he really does!!” Hayama agreed. There was something rather majestic in the way that the white german shepard carried itself.

“Comparing me to a dog now, are you?”

“Eek…” The members all froze as they heard their captain approaching them from behind. “But it’s cute, Sei-chan!”

“I recall leaving you all to your training.” Akashi’s eyes flash briefly as he meets Mibuchi’s gaze. “I expected Eikichi, Reo, and Hayama to be up to these ridiculous things…but you as well, Chihiro?”

“…”

“Hm. Get back to training, unless you’d like to stay for an extra set.”

The threat is powerful enough for the members to quickly return to their practice, while Akashi remains, looking over his team.

“You there.” Akashi’s eyes flicker downwards, meeting the heterochromatic eyes of the dog sitting in front of him. “I expect you to behave as well, if you wish to stay.”

“…Arf.”

Shutoku

“Shin-chan, over here!!”

“Woah, good hit Shin-chan!”

Midorima could feel his frustration growing as he shot the basketball in his hand, tsking at it glanced off the side of the rim before making it through the basket. “Must you guys continue calling it by that ridiculous name?”

“He likes it though!” Takao replied, holding up the dark haired puppy in his hands. “His eyes are sooooo cute!!”

It was by chance that the Shutoku members had discovered the dark haired puppy lingering outside the gym. It was even more interesting when they watched the puppy blink, eyes as green as Midorima’s hair. And thus…

“We’ll call you Shin-chan!!!” Takao had declared, and the other Shutoku members only found the situation amusing. Well, everyone but the puppy’s name sake, of course.

“Everyone seems a bit more excited.” Otsubo comments, watching his team clamoring for the puppy’s attention. “It’s a morale booster. So, please put up with it.”

“Huh? Where ya going Shin-chan?” Takao questioned as the puppy wiggled out of his hold, jumping onto the ground.

“Arrrrf.”

“What.” Midorima glared, staring down the puppy that had walked up to him, sitting at his feet.

“Arrf. Arrf.” The puppy seemed to chastise him, causing Midorima to bristle with annoyance. “I refuse to acknowledge you.” Midorima harrumph, pushing up his glasses with his left hand.

“Arrrf!”

“Woah, look at that thing jump!” Miyaji’s voice was incredulous as the puppy managed to jump up, smacking his paw against Midorima’s left hand.

Midorima stared down at the puppy who was meeting his gaze with it’s large, emerald-green eyes.

Turning back to the basket, Midorima threw the ball, this time making a perfect swish as it fell through the net.

“Arf.” The puppy seemed to be proud of itself, and Midorima swore it was smirking

“It wasn’t because of you.”

“Aww, look at the two Shin-chans getting along!!”

Kaijo

“You’re so cute!!” Kise squealed, holding the golden-fur puppy in his arms.

“Arf arf!!” The puppy wagged its tail excitedly, golden orbs sparkling in delight as he licked Kise’s face.

Kise felt his heart swell at the ball of fluff that had appeared in their gym, barking and tail wagging as it enthusiastically ran around the gym with the team as they warmed up for practice.

Letting the puppy down, Kise watched as he started bumping the basketballs with its paws, swatting and pushing the ball along the floor.

“What an adorable puppy. Girls like puppies, don’t they?” Moriyama’s eyes glimmered in interested as he leaned down towards the excitable puppy. “You and I shall go and meet some girls!!”

“Don’t be teaching the puppy weird things, baka!” Kobori snarled, pushing the back of Moriyama’s head.

“Arf arf!”

“But it wants to go, don’t you?” Moriyama cooed as the puppy continued barking, it’s little body trembling in excitement.

“God, this thing’s even more hyper than you, Hayakawa!”

“I won’t lose!!”

“Don’t pick a fight with a puppy, damnit!” Kobori sighed, watching Hayakawa staring down at the puppy with angry eyes.

Completely ignorant of the death glare he was receiving, the puppy only continued bouncing around, tilting its head cutely as it looked up at the members surrounding it.

“So cute so cute so cute!!” Kise continued squealing, before looking for his phone. “I need pictures!!”

“What is the big deal here?!” Kise yelped as Kasamatsu kicked him in the back of his legs. “Get back to practice!”

“Puppy-chan, don’t go to the scary mean person!” Moriyama cried out as the puppy suddenly took off in Kasamatsu’s directly, immediately pawing at the captain’s shorts.

“Why is there a dog here…” Kasamatsu grumbled, picking up the puppy by its scruff as he held it in front of his face. Suddenly, the puppy stuck out its tongue, licking the captain’s nose again and again.

“Oh no!” Kise yelled, scared that Kasamatsu was going to hurt the puppy. Instead…

“Tickles…” Kasamatsu pulled away from the puppy, setting him on the floor gently. “Hm. Guess you’re not too bad.”

“Yip!” Running circles around Kasamatsu’s feet, the puppy barked happily.

“..No fair, why can’t you treat me like that?!?” Kise whined, narrowly dodging another one of Kasamatsu’s famous kicks.

“Because you’re an annoying dumbass!”

---

Masterpost

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sarifel-corrisafid-ilxhel · 5 years ago

Note

Hey, idk if this is just a mobile problem but the only little button appearing at the bottom of your posts is the share button for links and stuff, not hearts or reblogs. Also, if you don’t mind, I have a what-if idea: if the country was under lockdown as it is now during the Animorphs books, how do you think it would affect their missions? Thanks :)

Weird. I haven’t adjusted any settings on my end, so I’m not sure what’s happening there, but I will try looking into it!

As for the lockdown… hmmm. I can’t see much triggering a lockdown in the late 1990s other than the return of Smallpox or a sudden outbreak of a novel and potentially fatal virus. So whatever the threat is, it’s going to be something serious. We’ll go with the Prion Virus.

Let’s say that months after Book 38, an unknown pathogen begins sweeping through the global population. People who are afflicted by the virus begin to show signs of lethargy, agitation, lack of coordination, and decreasing motor skills. Some just disappear entirely. Others become confused. Then delirium and dementia set in, and the victims begin screaming about “Yeerks”. When the victims are pulled into ambulances or taken to the hospital, they die.

The incubation time of the disease is unknown. Transmission method is unknown. Symptom progression occurs over several weeks. The fatality rate appears to be close to a hundred percent. Outbreaks seem to occur near-simultaneously in major metropolitan areas around the globe. The disease becomes known as “Affluenza”, as it predominantely strikes at the upper crust of society. Rumors that the disease spreads through bottled water dominate the Internet and nightly news cycles. Lockdowns, Stay-At-Home orders, and Martial Law are declared in many areas. Madagascar closes its borders.

Day One of the Lockdown: Jake, Cassie, Marco, and Rachel are unable to leave their houses. It’s not that they can’t leave- They could easily morph and leave their houses, no problem. No, the problem is that their families are paying attention to them now. Jake’s mother habitually knocks on his door every twenty minutes to make sure he’s okay. Peter and Nora insist on keeping Marco in the same room as them because Nora wants Family Bonding Time. Cassie can’t even go to the barn without her mother or father following her. And Rachel has a nervous wreck of a mother and two younger sisters to keep entertained.

It’s Ax, perched outside of Jake’s window in Harrier morph, who explains what’s going on. The Prion Virus that Arbat dropped into the Yeerk Pool before he died must have finally kicked in. The Animorphs had suspected the disease had something to do with the Yeerks, even before the lockdown started, but the lockdown helped Ax and Tobias confirm that it was only Controllers who were being affected. Everyone who is dying in the hospitals? The Yeerks are silencing them with assassination cylinders, just like when the Animorphs destroyed the Kandrona generator.

Jake opnely wonders why it took this long for the virus to take effect. Ax briefly wonders about the state of Human medical knowledge before he explains that a prion is a misfolded protein that inhibits normal function of an organism’s brain. The Prion Virus works by infiltrating healthy cells and forcing them to create these misfolded proteins, and prion diseases are hard to detect early on because just a few misfolded proteins won’t do any real damage. However, as the cells continue to create more and more misfolded proteins, the damage begins to accumulate and become visible. It can take months for a disease like this to become apparent. It can take up to a year for a disease like this to kill. And the Yeerks never knew. They’ve been spreading the virus around with every personnel transfer. By now, the virus could be present in every single Yeerk Pool in the galaxy.

Jake wonders if he should feel bad when Ax reminds him the Prion Virus could mutate inside of Human-Controllers and begin to affect Humans. And now that the Yeerks are aware of the virus, there is a chance they could develop a counter. Ax starts to go on about virophages which could disable the Prion Virus and protein repair mechanisms that might limit or undo the damage when Jake tells him to go let the others know what’s going on.

Day Two of the Lockdown: Ax and Tobias are scouting the situation out and keeping everybody informed. Tobias hates the comparison to “Courier Pigeons” that Marco keeps making, but there is a certain truth to it. Most of the Animorphs are effectively grounded, leaving the two without families to do all of the spy work. It almost reminds everyone of the first few weeks of the war.

Marco has been following the whole situation on the news very carefully for over a month. Known Controller-celebrities are playing the virus up, feeding the hysteria. Marco reasons the Stay-At-Home orders are something the Yeerks came up with. Having all the Yeerks stay away from the Yeerk Pools will keep any uninfected Yeerks safe, with the added benefit of limiting the public exposure to people breaking free of their Yeerks to beg for help. What is notable, however, is that the Yeerks aren’t alone in investigating the disease. Human medical organizations are also investigating the disease, and they have already determined the disease is a novel neurological disorder spread by a virus. One doctor explains that the sudden screaming of “Yeerk” is because as motor function shuts down, people may begin to shout single loud syllables at random. Marco figures out that doctor is a Controller pretty quickly. However, another doctor wonders if this might be a prion disease, similar to Hoof-and-Mouth or Creutzfeldt–Jakob, because his team have noticed there are unusual proteins in the cerebrospinal fluids of the people they tested. Marco thinks that the entire invasion is about to be exposed.

Jake has been watching Tom like a hawk. Not literally as a hawk, not today, but it’s about the same. The early symptoms of the disease are easy enough to miss, but the more Jake thinks about it, the more it looks like Tom’s Yeerk is already suffering. But that’s not the only thing that has Jake’s attention right now. That morning, Tom got a phonecall from The Sharing, and ever since he’s been pacing anxiously in the living room. Jake knows the Yeerks have to do something about all the Controllers now trapped at home, but he can only guess at what. Eventually, the doorbell rings. The Sharing, with the blessing of the local authorities, is now delivering food and bottled water door to door in windowless vans. Tom volunteers to go out to the van and help unload things. He comes back in thirty minutes later, much less anxious and with very little to show for the time he was out there. He claims he was “Just talking with the guys about the deliveries”. Jake, however, suspects the Yeerks are using the food deliveries as a cover for giving Yeerks a chance to recharge with Portable Kandronas. Tom struggles to open a bottled water before reluctantly asking Jake to help him open it.

Day Three of the Lockdown: Erek shows up. Jake figures it out before Erek reveals himself, because even though Erek does a spot-on impersonation of a coat rack, Jake’s family don’t own a coat rack. They have a coat closet, thank you very much. And even if they did own a coat rack, it wouldn’t be in Jake’s room.

Erek tells Jake the primary Yeerk Pool is being cleaned out. The Yeerks have begun hoarding spray disinfectants and bleach out of a misguided belief the disease could be an Earth virus that has mutated to attack Yeerks. All the Yeerks in the pool have been transferred to holding tanks while the main pool is being disinfected. However, it’s all for nothing- The Yeerks still don’t know what they’re dealing with, and prion diseases are especially tough- They aren’t destroyed by conventional disinfectants.

Jake wonders briefly if he should feel bad for the Yeerks or not. That’s when Erek drops the bombshell of the day- The Chee are working on a countervirus. One that could save all the Yeerks. It should be ready in just a few days, and if it’s deployed quickly enough it could save millions. Jake is appalled. The Yeerks have been killing Humans by the thousands, they’ve enslaved hundreds of millions of good innocent people across the Galaxy. They took his brother. Why the hell would anyone want to save them?

Erek counters that he doesn’t believe in genocide under any circumstances. The Chee have directives from the Pemalites not just to be pacifists, but to love life, to want to perserve it and see it flourish. If it weren’t for those directives, the Chee would have never intervened to stop the Black Death. And, Erek reminds Jake, the Chee don’t answer to the Animorphs. They’ll save the Yeerks whether Jake wants them to or not. The reason Erek is here is that the Animorphs have an opportunity to end the war. Offer the cure in exchange for peace.

Tobias, perched in the tree outside, says that Erek stole the idea from Deep Space Nine. Erek unabashedly says that one of Humanity’s strongpoints is using stories to predict the kinds of problems they might face in the future. Jake, for his part, is extremely concerned. Even if he could put his severe distaste in Yeerks aside, he isn’t sure how they could prevent the Yeerks from simply coming back later or blowing up the planet as they leave. That’s when Erek suggests asking the others. He’ll cover for Jake here.

Reluctantly, Jake opens a window and begins to morph into a falcon.

____________________________________________________...Sorry I might have gotten carried away. You were probably looking for “What do they do to relieve boredom”. Sorry! n.n;;

#Animorphs #Yeerks #Prion Virus #Stuff about Stuff and Things #Erek is there too

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whitewallwhispers · 5 years ago

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Little Lies

Narcos - Javier Peña - Series

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine

A young writer moves to Colombia to perform research on the drug war for her latest novel. She’s willing to do anything for information, which leads her down a rabbit hole that begins to blur the line between pretending to be someone and becoming something she might not be ready for.

Her latest target is a D.E.A. Agent named Javier Peña. And things are getting complicated.

Warnings: Drug use (cocaine), alcohol use (wine), strong language (pretty much every expletive under the sun), smut - mentions of oral sex (male receiving), rough sex (mentions of hair pulling, choking), unprotected sex (wrap it up, folks), daddy kink

My hope is that you can imagine this character as any race with any style of hair (as someone with short hair I get annoyed when every fic mentions long locks and ponytails).

This is kind of a dumb note but I feel the need to clarify that this smut is completely aimed at Peña - I love Pedro but in a completely different, non-sexual way. It’s a credit to his acting skills that he can make me want to fuck nearly every character he plays when IRL I just want to be his best friend.

He certainly left bruises. On her hips, her wrists. Purple at first before fading to yellow in the week that had passed since she last saw him. She’d gone to the bar every night, drinking away her parents’ money in the faint hope he’d show.

He didn’t.

She tried not to take it personally. She tried not to think about the possibility that he’d gone back to his regulars and forgotten all about her.

Maybe that’s why she’d decided to blow through an entire packet of coke, railing line after line off her counter as she wrote, though it wasn’t long before she was running into a dead end of ideas. If Peña had given up on her, she’d have to find another cartel member soon to give her more information. If she couldn’t gain the perspective of the opposite side, she might as well gain more insight into the one she already knew.

Her high made her forget that the next packet of her supply still laid on her bedside table. It didn’t help that she’d gone for the bottle of white wine she had in her fridge, drinking deeply straight from it as she moved to turn on her stereo, dancing to herself to Billie Holiday as she took another pull, her lips numb and limbs buzzing.

Maybe I should call it a night on writing. She’d been stuck for the past hour and even the coke had failed to stimulate her further. Maybe she could drown out the strange strain in her chest with the next packet she had. Maybe the wine would give her a hangover, and she’d spend the whole day tomorrow thinking only about how miserable she felt instead of wondering what Peña was doing and if she’d ever see him again.

Thirty minutes further into dancing by herself she’d drank nearly half the bottle of wine and taken another line from her fresh pouch.

She was being irresponsible.

She thought there wouldn’t be consequences.

She wasn’t thinking straight.

So when there came a knock at her door, she opened it straight away without peeking through the chain to see who it was.

Fuck fuck fuck.

She now had her door wide open to Peña, who was giving her an apologetic look.

“I know I said I wouldn’t turn up unannounced next time, but you wouldn’t believe what a week it’s been.”

Before she could even think he was stepping into her apartment.

“Wait,” she choked. “Hold on.”

But by the time she’d thought to stop him, he was already in the door. He could already see what she was about to do. He’d see her hiding the coke and he’d know and he’d hate her and she’d lose her only chance at writing about both sides of the story. He saw her panic.

“What’s the matter?” his voice was full of concern, too sweet in contrast to the severity of the situation.

“Can you close your eyes? Please? I know it sounds weird, but…”

“I - uh - sure, I guess,” he answered, mercifully shutting them without question.

She reached behind her to the counter to put down her wine and grab her manuscript before sprinting to her bedside table, stuffing the baggie of coke on top of the papers and shutting them safely away in the drawer.

“Okay, you can open them now,” she said, returning in front of him.

He was on her immediately, lips hot and heavy as he pushed her further into the room. It unfolded much like last time. He forced her onto her knees. This time she did a better job of relaxing her throat, and as such he thrusted into her harder than before. She didn’t gag once, and he rewarded her by eating her out before he began to pummel her into the bed in every position imaginable. There were no handcuffs this time, but plenty of hair pulling and insistence on calling him daddy and choking.

He came inside her again, and this time she made sure she got up to go to the bathroom first. He required no cleanup. That should automatically grant her first dibs.

But it was a mistake. After she’d taken care of everything she washed her hands and opened the door, only to find Javier standing there, jeans on but shirtless, his gun held lazily in his hand that rested against the wall as the other held up his badge.

“You wanna know what this means, sweetheart?” His voice was calm and even, but his eyes were dark.

Fuck. Had he looked when he said he’d close his eyes? Had she forgotten to hide something? Or please, for the love of God let this be some weird sort of kinky roleplay bullshit. He took a step towards her and she fought the urge to take a step back. It’d look too suspicious. Instead she tried to play dumb.

“Hmm…American Beurau of Fuckall?” she asked coyly.

“Wrong letters.”

“Unless you’ve been studying up on the Berlin Wall I don’t think you get to quiz me about anything.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to the mirror, frantically looking for something to do with her hands. Lipstick. Bingo. She pulled open her makeup drawer and grabbed the first tube she found before hurriedly applying it. She prayed he couldn’t see the way her hand was shaking.

Javier stepped fully into the bathroom now, standing directly behind her, his arm holding the gun wrapping around her waist while the other returned his badge to his back pocket. He pushed her forward until she was stuck between him and the counter.

“That thing better not be loaded,” she joked, “and your gun better be empty too.” She finished with her lips and began to toy with her hair instead, avoiding his eyes in the mirror.

“What’s this?” he asked, bending so his mouth pressed close to her ear, dangling something small in front of her.

“What does it look like?” she said with a shrug. Holy fuck. It was a baggie of coke. Her coke. She couldn’t tell if she’d left it out or he’d gone looking for it and honestly it didn’t matter right now. The only thing she needed to focus on was sounding as oblivious as possible. “If you want some go ahead, I don’t mind.”

His grip on her tightened painfully, the cold metal of his gun biting into her bare skin.

“Where’d you get it?”

“A friend.”

“What kind of friend?”

“The same kind you are.”

His arm loosened its hold on her slightly, but she was still pinned between him and the sink.

“Do you know who your friend works for?”

“I mean, he’s never said, but given he pays me half in coke I think you and I can wager a guess.”

Javier nodded.

“How often do you see this friend?”

“Not often.” A lie. She’d only seen him once. But he made sure she knew where to find him again.

“Are you friends with anyone else he works with?”

She shook her head.

“Could you be?”

“Why?” she laughed. “Bored of me already? Worried I’ll go broke when you stop calling?”

“I’m D.E.A.”

She blinked. “Yeah, I still don’t know what that means.” Oh, yes I do.

“Drug Enforcement Administration.”

Time to play it up.

“Oh shit, Javi, listen, I can explain,” she stammered. “Please, don’t -”

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” he reassured her, placing the baggie on the counter and stroking her cheek. “Not unless you refuse my offer.”

“Offer?”

Okay, now she was lost.

“See your friend more often. See his friends. See his friends who are more powerful than he is. And I’ll keep seeing you, and if you tell me where they are or what they say or anything useful about what they’re doing, I’ll pay double.”

She gulped. On the one hand, she’d already been considering seeing cartel members more frequently for info. On the other, she wasn’t sure if she was prepared to really commit to being a prostitute. It wouldn’t be pretend anymore. Instead of a writer playing at being a whore, she’d be a whore who was writing a novel.

“You…you won’t get in trouble for sleeping with someone who does coke?” she whimpered, trying to still sound scared of him while inside she was really just scared shitless of herself and the mess she’d gotten into.

“What, you think you’re the only whore in Medellin who partakes? You think you’re the only one I see?”

She bit her lip. Why the fuck did that hurt?

“Right,” she nodded, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes.

“You’re so naive,” he sighed. He placed his gun on the counter and returned his hand to her hip, thumb brushing over the bone with the same intensity as when they fucked. His lips found her neck and they began to press feverishly against her skin, gently biting her between every kiss.

His free hand reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, briefly letting go of her long enough to pull out a stack of bills and toss it next to his gun.

“The only info I have on him is old, probably useless to you now,” she stammered.

“That’s not what it’s for.” After shoving his wallet back into his jeans he gripped her waist and pushed his body so tightly against her back that her hips ground painfully into the sink. She gasped at the way it hurt, but it only made him groan into the crook of her neck, biting her harder now.

“J-Javi,” she breathed, not knowing which pain to focus on.

“Why do I want you so much?”

She blinked in surprise. His voice sounded so vulnerable. Raw and honest.

“I know I just told you to, but…I think about you fucking someone else and I can’t help but feel jealous.” His hands tugged down her panties and she could feel his growing erection pressing into her lower back.

What the fuck was she supposed to say to that?

Especially since she felt the same way.

Come on, think of something clever.

She couldn’t, her mind was completely scrambled between the way her hips were embedded against the cold porcelain, the way his lips were trailing across her collarbones and shoulder, the way his hands were pulling out his cock and pushing it between her legs.

His hand came to her other shoulder and bent her forward, her reflection flying towards her as she leaned closer to the mirror. She looked at him in the glass, noting the way his eyes were heavily lidded and mouth was hanging open slightly as he breathed heavily.

“I find myself daydreaming about being inside you all the time. It’s so fucking distracting,” he huffed, sliding into her and meeting her eyes in the mirror. She braced herself against the sink, crying out gently as her hips were pushed further into the counter. He pumped in and out of her slowly, keeping his eyes locked on hers.

“See how pretty you look when I fuck you?”

“Javi,” was the only response she could think of. Think of? There hadn’t been any thought in it, it slipped out of her as she threw her head back. He felt so good, and hurt so much. Not just the way he trapped her against the sink, but the way she wanted him.

She’d gotten attached.

She really was too naive, too inexperienced, too out of her depth.

Childish, almost, in the way she let herself develop feelings for him just because he was the first man to make her orgasm, the first man she dreamed about when he wasn’t there, the first man to make her feel desirable. She felt so silly, so ashamed of how she’d lost her professional objectivity.

She was so lost in thought she didn’t notice the tears that welled in her eyes. It wasn’t until one slipped down her cheek that she realized she was crying. Javier pulled out of her immediately, turning her around to face him.

“Am I being too rough?” he asked, eyes searching hers.

“No,” she shook her head, her voice pathetically weak. “Go harder.” Maybe the physical pain would drown out the embarrassment and confusion currently filling her mind.

“I won’t if you’re crying.”

“Please just do it. I’ll use our safe word if it’s too much.”

His eyes surveyed her dubiously for a moment before he turned her back around, pushing her against the counter once more and bending her forward. His hands found her waist as he began to thrust into her again, grunting as she tensed around him.

She watched his face in the mirror, a few more tears spilling out her eyes before they stopped as she steadied herself. Focus on the physical, she thought. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip so hard she was sure she’d break the skin. Her hips would be bruised again, much worse this time, but she began to relish in the way her bones ground against the sink.

He picked up his pace, slamming into her with stuttering breaths.

“No one feels as good as you,” he whispered.

“Don’t.” She hadn’t meant to say it. But it came out of her mouth anyway.

He froze inside her.

“Don’t what?” he sounded concerned again. Sweet.

Stop it.

“Don’t be nice to me. Don’t say nice things to me. Just fuck me and go.”

“I - are you sure you’re okay?”

Oh, great. She could feel herself getting choked up again. “Javi, just do what you’re paying me for.”

He sighed heavily and pulled out of her. “Fine. But not like this.” He pulled her up and shut the bathroom door, pushing her back up against it and kissing her gently, his fingertips softly brushing over her cheeks and neck. His hands trailed lower, sliding around her to undo her bra, pulling it off of her carefully and placing it on the counter beside his gun. His thumbs circled her nipples as he brought his lips back to hers, tongue hesitantly slipping into her mouth.

“You made your lip bleed,” he said, pulling back and looking at her with furrowed brows.

“Good.” Her voice was flat. The way he was treating her so softly was making everything worse.

“What’s going on?”

Frustrated, she grabbed his wrist and thrust his hand against her throat. “Please stop being like this. I want you to hurt me.”

His fingers flexed weakly against her neck, but still, he didn’t let go. “You’re acting different. Something’s off.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Just fuck me.”

“Look, you don’t have to be an informant for me if you don’t want to, I won’t get you in trouble, just -”

She went on her tiptoes and kissed him as hard as she could, her hand wrapping around and stroking his length.

“I’ll do whatever you want if you just finish this the way you started,” she breathed. “Please.”

Her touch seemed to bring his base instincts back into control, because his fingers began to tighten around her throat while his other hand hooked under her knee and pulled her leg up, pushing it beside her chest and testing the limits of her flexibility.

It burned. He held her leg in place so firmly she could feel the muscles straining as if they were ready to snap. As both his hands were occupied it was up to her to guide him into her center, but once he was inside her she let her hands brace herself against the door.

Their height difference made things a little awkward until he finally released her throat and scooped her other leg up, lifting and holding her against the door with his body as he thrust into her again and again. Her hands came to his shoulders, gripping them to feel the way the muscles were pulled taut with her weight.

He buried his face in her neck, panting against her hot skin.

There was no pain now, only pleasure, and it was almost too much to bear. He felt so good against her, inside her. She ran her fingers through his hair and breathed in the smell of sweat and sex and faded cologne that encompassed him.

She didn’t want to cum. But she did anyway, biting her lip again to keep herself from saying his name. She couldn’t do it to herself. It would hurt too much in the wrong way. In the way that came from inside.

“Good girl,” he murmured as she pulsed around him, legs shivering.

She hung her head back against the door, closing her eyes and trying to numb herself to his touch. It sounded like he’d finish soon and then he would leave and then she would never see him again.

She wouldn’t allow herself to.

Fuck it. Her book would only take place from the cartel’s perspective.

It wasn’t worth getting her heart broken over.

Because the money on the counter beside her bra and his gun was all she meant to him, all she’d ever be worth to him. And if she fucked him one more time it might kill her.

He came inside her, groaning as he held her against the door one long moment before gently bringing her down. As soon as her feet the floor she was picking up her clothes and the money, pushing through the door without looking at him. She rushed to get dressed before he could follow her, but she only got as far as her bra and panties and shirt before she heard his footsteps coming out of the bathroom.

“Cigarette?” he asked, walking past her and picking up his own shirt off the ground. He turned to study her while he buttoned it, but she didn’t look at him. Couldn’t.

“No,” came her blunt reply. She debated putting on her shorts but the minute he was gone she’d be under her covers feeling like shit, so she decided it wasn’t worth it. Instead she stood awkwardly against the back of the couch, arms crossed, looking everywhere in the room but at him. When she heard him light himself a cig she thought she should polish off the last of her wine.

Not wanting to risk walking near him in her suddenly unbearably small apartment, she decided to forgo actually stepping into the kitchen to get it and instead leaned over the counter from as far away as possible to grab it, her hips aching in protest as she did so. She took a deep swig before moving to go back to her perch on the couch, but when she turned she found herself nearly running right into his half-exposed chest.

“Why won’t you look at me?” he asked quietly.

Defiant, she met his gaze and was taken aback by how sad he looked.

Goddammit.

All she wanted to do was kiss away his frown and push back the messy hair from his face.

“Don’t show up unannounced next time,” was her only response.

Something flickered across his face so quickly she didn’t get the chance to recognize it before it was gone.

“Meet you at the bar, then?”

“Sure,” she nodded before pushing past him, resting on the back of the couch and taking another draw.

She’d never go to that bar again.

#narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos fanfic #narcos smut #Javier Peña #Javier Peña fanfiction #Javier Peña fanfic #Javier Peña fic #Javier Peña smut #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #heeeeeeeeeeere we go #pedro pascal #bye #little lies

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gingerpeachtae · 6 years ago

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Concentric [2]

masterlist

Words: 7k

Genres: fantasy!AU, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, eventual smut (?)

Warnings: references to/after-effects of being choked

Summary: You had been ready for the end of the semester. You had been ready to spend time away from your best friend, Jimin, and finally move on from the feelings you harbored. Yet, after your friend was forced to reveal a secret, you found yourself in a new world that was chock full of magic, war, and wonder. So, here you were, basically thrown into your own fantasy novel, with your best friend on one side, and six male warriors on the other.

A/N: Here it is! I most likely won’t be able to update as fast as this in the future since my internship starts next week, but I will do my best to not have you guys waiting around for too long. Again, a big thanks to everyone reading Concentric, ya’ll are rockstars! Anyways, I hope you engoy the update 🥰

Neither of you spoke as you walked back to the parking lot. After you made your statement, Jimin had simply hung his head and limply consented. With a regret-filled sigh, he had turned to the Saeni and, you assumed, informed them that you would be joining the trip. Once he was finished speaking, he had quickly ushered you out of the clearing before you could get a glimpse of their reactions.

The two of you were walking side by side, and although you had questions writhing inside of your head, you remained quiet. For the moment, you were content just walking the trail. To hear the crunch of gravel and shift of dirt beneath your sneakers. To listen to the creaking sway of trees in the wind. To feel the sunlight filter through the leaves and onto your face. To absorb that silent, yet alive feeling of the forest. Jimin, on the other hand, did not seem content in the slightest. His eyes remained downcast on the earthy ground, refusing to look your way. You could tell that he was wary about you finally knowing the truth, and even more uneasy at the thought of you coming along with him and the others. He was, understandably, concerned about, so you tried to not take his avoidance to heart.

When the cars became visible through the foliage, you looked to Jimin once more, hoping he would finally return the favor. He just kept walking. Starting to feel a wee bit of rejection, you trailed behind him. With a jolt, you realized that he did not make a sound while making his way along the path. Not a kicking of rocks or snapping of twigs. Just a shift in the air as he marched on.

How many clues had you been blind to?

As you pulled your keys out of your jacket, you stilled as you saw the white glint of the dreamcatcher through his dark windshield. No longer sensing your immediate presence behind him, Jimin paused to turn around. When he saw you looking beyond him, he followed your line of sight and flinched slightly when he realized what you were staring at.

Sharply he said, “Go straight to my house,” but added in a pained whisper, “Please.”

Eyes flicking back to him, you noticed his wrecked expression. You gave him a nod because you still did not trust your voice to withhold the questions building inside of you. You unlocked your car and waited for him to leave, not wanting to arrive at his house before him. Usually, you wouldn’t have given it a second thought since you had a key to his place. However, this was a tricky situation and you wanted to tread carefully.

Noting that Jimin began backing out of his space, you turned on the ignition and put it in reverse, not bothering to plug your phone into the aux cord. Your mind was still reeling a little too much to consider listening to music. Instead, you lowered your windows and continued to listen to the forest, the sounds comforting you as you started to drive.

You gently knocked on his weathered, white door to alert him that you were there as you softly opened it and stepped through the threshold. Entering the living room, you saw Jimin sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Your heart ached, never having seen him appear so lost before. Sitting down beside him, you waited silently until he was ready.

He cursed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Wherever you’re comfortable with.” You reached out to grab his hand and he clung back tightly.

“Okay, um, I guess I’ll start with Illain first…

It’s a world that doesn’t exist in our universe, but it is connected to Earth. Think of it like a parallel universe without having replicated people. What happens to one doesn’t directly affect the other, but they are still linked. Does that make sense?”

You nodded even though it didn’t, at least not completely. You let it go, though, because you weren’t concerned about those specifics.

“It’s named after the mother goddess, Illai, and it’s not as… industrialized as Earth is. Most of it is still covered in forests and natural landscapes. Saeni are the people who inhabit it. They are similar to humans, but, as you saw, have elongated ears, as well as a few other, ah, differences.”

You pulled your hand back as you blurted, “Oh god. Don’t tell me they have tentacles!? Holy shit, do they? Wait, do you!?”

“What the fuck? No. There’re no tentacles. You seriously need to stop reading weird smut online.”

“Yes, because it’s the tentacles that would’ve made this whole situation completely ridiculous.”

After seeing Jimin’s stressed-out expression, you let out a small apology and allowed him to continue.

“There’s differences like heightened senses and reflexes, as well as some other stuff.”

“The ‘other stuff’ sure sounds like some tentacles,” you mumbled to yourself before shutting up.

“A handful of Saeni are able to tap into an energy that flows through Illain and they get certain abilities from harnessing it. It’s basically magic. The petal I gave you was a form of that energy; it allows the recipients to see and hear the Saeni when they are glamoured. Which is why it seemed like we were alone until you took it. There’s another petal, a yellow one, that offers the ability to understand the Saeni language and speak it. You’ll have to take both petals every day when we cross over to Illain.”

“So, is one of the Saeni from the park able to manipulate the energy into magic?”

“Yeah, Yoongi. You’ll get to know each of them. They’re… very special to me. They’re my brothers.”

Your eyes widened, wondering how they were his siblings when they looked nothing alike. Maybe genetics worked differently for Saeni?

Seeing your reaction, Jimin said, “Not my actual brothers! We’re not related, but they’re brothers to me in every sense of the word except biologically.”

“I get it.” You grabbed his hand again and gave it a squeeze. “Family isn’t always blood.”

It was quiet for a few heartbeats.

“So… how do you fit into everything?”

You were exhausted by the time you unlocked your front door. You were hungry, dirty, and sore. You briefly wondered whether the entire thing had actually even occurred. But it did. The two hours you spent talking with Jimin was evidence enough.

He had told you how his mother somehow ended up crossing over to Illain one day, and there she met his father and they fell in love. Though, shortly after Jimin was born, his father died, and his mom returned to Earth with a half-human, half-Saeni baby.

Knowing it would be wrong to keep his true heritage a secret, his mom told him what he really was when he was young. One of his dad’s friends would come to check on them every year until he was seven. After that, Jimin started going with him to Illain for a few months out of the year to train as a warrior, as many Saeni did at that age. It was during this training that he met the other Saeni from the park. The seven of them stuck together throughout the years and eventually formed their own kiela, which Jimin explained was the Saeni word for seven, and it was considered a sacred number. When seven warriors become indescribably close, they take a vow to stick with one another and form a permanent group, a kiela. You weren’t sure how it worked with Jimin being gone most of the time, but you didn’t bring that up since it seemed like a sensitive topic.

You sighed as you made your way through your apartment, clutching the list of items Jimin had written down that he suggested you bring on the trip. Reading through it, you noted that you had all the materials, hence, you decided that packing could wait until post-shower and food. You yanked off your shoes and clothes before dragging your tired body to the bathroom. Promptly after flipping on the light, you looked into the mirror and flinched at your reflection. You looked like shit.

Hair tangled, skin scraped, and dirt underneath your nails. The worst part was your neck, though. Red marks and purple bruises lined your throat in a vague shape of a hand. You sharply inhaled as you gingerly prodded at the tender area, and you grimaced at the thought of leaving it unconcealed to heal. You weren’t bringing make up with you, therefore, there would be nothing to hide the brutal marks. It was a done deal and there was nothing to be done about, so with one last look at your disheveled appearance, you turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower.

Groaning at the sound of your alarm the next morning, you were temporarily confused as to why you were waking up at five in the morning.

Fucking hell, this is worse than accounting.

You caught sight of the backpack you had carefully packed last night when you leaned over to slap off the shrill alarm. The events from the prior day came rushing back to you. Throwing the comforter off of you, you groaned again as cold air hit your body. But you forced yourself up to prepare for your departure. You made the bed, double-checked the contents of the backpack, went to the bathroom, ate the rest of the fruit in your fridge and made sure all the items with an expiration date had been thrown out, and filled up your giant water bottle. Glancing at the clock, you saw that it was 5:38. You needed to meet Jimin at his house at 6, so you only had a few more minutes left before you had to leave. Hurriedly, you grabbed the note you had written that was addressed to your parents, and gently placed it on your bed along with your cell phone. No point in bringing it when you would have no service. Also, since you were essentially disappearing and couldn’t exactly tell your parents what you were doing or where you were going, you had decided to write them a letter explaining that Jimin had an issue and needed help resolving it. You typically contacted your parents at least once a day, so they immediately would know something was up when you didn’t reply anymore. You just hoped that they would come check your apartment and see the letter. Taking a last look at your home, you took a deep breath before shouldering the backpack and closing the front door behind you.

You reached Jimin’s house with four minutes to spare. Sitting down on the steps leading to his porch, you waited for him to come out. Promptly, at 6 AM you heard him walk out and plop down next to you.

“The Uber will be here in two.”

Both of you agreed that Ubering would be for the best. Neither of you had wanted to leave your car sitting at the park. It would raise suspicion and you didn’t need a manhunt looking for you when you would be nowhere to be found. Also, you were both broke college students and that was not a good combination with parking tickets.

An hour and ten minutes had passed since you had gotten into the car that pulled up to Jimin’s house, and you now found yourself entering the same clearing as yesterday. As you emerged from the branches and shrubs, you saw that the Saeni were already waiting for you. Before acknowledging them, you stuck your tongue out at the tree you had the pleasure of being pinned to, noticing that it was a huge, old oak tree. When you moved your gaze back to the Saeni, you saw that they all had thick hoods pulled over their heads. It made it impossible to discern which were the ones you had interacted with. Some of them leaned back against trees casually, one sat cross legged on the ground, and another was curled up underneath a tree napping. Tilting your head, you wondered if it was the mint-haired one who did the same thing yesterday. As you looked curiously at the sleeping lump, you heard a voice directed at you.

“Hi, I’m Namjoon. I’m sort of the leader of the group.”

You turned on your heel to see the tall Saeni with yellow eyes introducing himself while he pulled back his hood. You leaned your head back to take in his face and features. His brown hair was shorter on the sides, and his hoop earrings each had a dark bead hanging from the metal. The heavy head of his mace was visible over his right shoulder. His face lit up with happiness as you looked at him. He raised his hand to his chest, but suddenly jerked and brought his hand to the side in a small wave. Jimin watched him with amusement, while you just smiled at the endearing male and gave him a small wave of your own.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Namjoon. I’m Y/N. Are you the lucky recipient of a yellow petal today?”

“Hmm? Oh, no! This is actually all me,” he said sheepishly. “I really like learning, so I had Jimin teach me when he had spare time.”

“Why are you embarrassed about that? It’s really impressive!” You gawked at him.

We stan an intellectual in this house!

Namjoon let out a shy but grateful, “Thank you.

“So, obviously we aren’t glamoured right now since you can see us, but we will be when we cross over to Illain so here are your daily petals,” he said as he reached into a pocket and pulled out the delicate, magical objects.

“Ah, yes, here we go. Thank you for supplying my drugs,” you sarcastically retorted as you took the petals from his hand.

“Oh, and you’ll be glamoured too! No offense, but if you weren’t, you would be really suspicious and kind of attract unwanted attention…”

You let out a laugh and nodded in agreement.

“Well, please let me know if you need anything or have any questions, okay? I want you to feel as comfortable as we can make you.”

Your heart fluttered at his kind words. You were really touched that he went out of his way to make you feel welcomed and included.

“I will. Thank you Namjoon!” You told him.

As he walked away from you to converse with another Saeni, you popped the pink petal into your mouth. Stars and galaxies once again erupted behind your eyes. You could see an entire universe in front of you, expanding and unfurling with desire. Bright lights were born that kissed the edge of your vision. You could hear the cosmos sing and the moons weep. Sweet as cream on the tip of your tongue. Secretive as lovers under a dark sky. And it was wanting something. It was anxious and coiling with ambition. There was something in those lights that demanded your attention. It grabbed at you, gripped your focus, and then released all at once. The stars dimmed, and the galaxies died. Their blinding music fading to the calm psithurism of the wild forest around you.

You had to blink to get your senses back to normal before you were able to ready yourself for the next petal. You tensed your limbs as you moved the yellow object toward your mouth. But when you finally dropped the delicate thing onto your tongue, it did not expel a grand universe. Rather, it was a cocoon of sensation that was gently draped over you. Slow as honey, and thick and heavy like a winter blanket. It was sitting on a porch during a thunderstorm drinking tea. It was eating cookies fresh out of the oven. It was the feeling of being alone and content and tiny. It was raw happiness and understanding. And then it was just… gone. Like the galaxies were.

You sighed, eliciting a questioning look from your best friend. You shook your head with a small smile to let him know that you were fine. He moved to direct you to the start of the journey, but you held up a hand. There was something to take care of first.

You inhaled deeply and quickly expelled the air, mentally giving yourself a hype session of how your Momma didn’t raise no bitch before turning the Saeni.

“Before we go, I do want to know one thing.” You addressed the group.

A couple nodded in acknowledgement, and the others did object. So, ignoring the urge to rub your sore and bruised neck, you raised your chin, looked directly at them, and said, “I want to know which one of you tried to kill me.”

Jimin stiffly coughed and stared at you like you were going insane.

You head tilted in the direction of that stupid, old oak, in case they had forgotten that wonderful moment from yesterday, and you waited. It wasn’t like you were asking because you were scared or wanted to avoid the person. Jimin had told you that they were cautious around strangers, and the way you had raised your voice had ended up setting them over the edge. A simple, though brutal and unfortunate, misunderstanding. As a result, you were honestly just curious.

The six warriors were quiet for several breaths until one stepped forward. He reached up to the rich brown hood that shadowed his face, his hands hesitating for only a heartbeat before pulling back the thick fabric. His right hand returned to rest on the glittering red stone atop his dagger.

“That would have been me,” the burgundy head claimed with cold eyes.

And why were you not surprised at that? After all, he was the one that had glared at you like you had stolen his favorite toy. Or maybe it was because you kicked him in the balls? Though in your defense, he did choke you, so you had just gotten even.

You rolled your eyes then met his gaze straight on. “May I be privileged enough to know your name?”

Jimin leaned over and inquired what you were doing with a whisper. You held back a shiver at his warm breath on your neck and voice in your ear, and only gave a mere shrug in response. You were on a mission, so you were accepting no distractions.

“It’s only fair that I know the name of my attacker, don’t you think?” You added innocently, cocking your head to side.

“Jungkook,” he spit out through his teeth like the reveal physically pained him.

His hand shifted to grip the handle of the dagger tightly. He had done the same thing yesterday after you started returning his glare, so you suspected it was a habit of his when he got peeved. Yet, from the action, you didn’t miss the scars that adorned the back of his hand. Nor the cautionary look Jimin gave him. You pursed your lips when Jungkook gave the handle one final squeeze before loosening his grip. Whoever your Slim Jim was in this new world, he apparently carried some weight if he was obeyed whenever he threw those looks around. The others were all watching the exchange with intrigue, except for the one still resting under a tree.

Geez, does nothing excite that dude? I mean I like sleep too buddy, so Big Mood, but still.

Moseying your way over to the annoyed male, you gave him a sweet smile. “Well, Jungkook, just know that since I can see, hear, and understand you now, I won’t be as helpless next time.”

You glanced down at the area that had been throttled with your leg not 24 hours ago and converted your smile to a smirk.

“And I won’t need to resort to cheating to win either.”

From behind you, you could hear Jimin swear in an exasperated tone.

Jungkook’s eyes caught sight of your ravaged neck and they momentarily softened. You thought you even saw a flash of guilt, but they quickly turned cold once more. Being right in front of him, you noticed that they were a piercing light green rimmed in a darker shade of emerald. If you weren’t so fed up with the guy’s antics, you would have likened them to peridot. But since you were, you decided to settle on old peas. He, too, had piercings in his ears, just one silver hoop on his right side and three on the left. Your attention was brought back to the matter at hand when he pulled out the short blade from the scabbard at his hip. He closely inspected the cunning dagger. You would have admired the beauty of the weapon, if not for the fact that it was intimidatingly close to your face. Your eyes were stuck on the blade, watching as he slowly turned it in the rising sunlight. While the light was refracting off the polished metal, you could see that there was an inscription on the dagger, but you couldn’t make out what it was.

Not even bothering to look up from his weapon, he challenged with a sharp tone that matched the edge of the blade, “Oh, do you really think so little human?”

You blinked at his serrated voice, wondering how you should respond.

What would Steve Rogers do?

Well, he would never back the fuck down from a fight. So, neither would you.

You accepted his challenge by returning your eyes to his face. His own flickering up when he felt the weight of your unfaltering stare.

When his eyes met yours, you slapped on a cute smirk. “Mmmm before I forget…”

You leaned in as close as you dared with his wicked blade still in front of you while maintaining eye contact with his green orbs. “I may be into choking, but if you’re going to do it, you should really learn the proper technique.”

You trailed your eyes down and back up his physique as you finished. “I’m a simple girl, but I can be hard to please and I expect my partners to know how to handle themselves.”

Pulling back from Jungkook and returning your attention to Jimin, you beamed and clapped your hands together. Not before noting how stiff the burgundy-haired asshat had gone at your words. God this guy. His damn ego couldn’t even take some valid constructive criticism. Well, it wouldn’t be your fault when he killed someone mid-thrust. Unless he was celibate, which would really explain why he was so uptight. Glancing at the rest of the Saeni, they were a mix of complete shock and struggle to withhold their laughter. Their struggle becoming more strained when Jungkook abruptly marched away from you.

“Alrighty! What are we waiting around for? Let’s go!” You called out to the group.

Jimin pushed a hand through his hair and grabbed your wrist, tugging you along while he chuckled and shook his head at you.

“I’m going on an adventure!” You said as you allowed yourself to be led to a new world.

“Really?” You dragged the word out. “I thought we were finally going.”

The beginning of your adventure ended a mere 15 feet away. Right in front of that big, old oak tree you were well acquainted with.

“Stupid tree,” you muttered beneath your breath, “I hope you never grow leaves again so you’re permanently naked.”

You continued the creative curses at the ancient being until they trailed off into silence.

“Uhhh. Hey, Slim Jim? What’re they doing?” You questioned as the six warriors began climbing up the tree’s study branches. “Shouldn’t they be doing an spell or something? Isn’t that how it usually works?”

“Not in real life.” He smiled, giving you a push toward to the tree.

This is so not as cool. Or fun.

You hoisted yourself limb from limb and up and up and up. You were sweating by the time you finally caught up with the Saeni. Jimin climbed right behind you, keeping a hand either on your back or leg to hold you steady during your ascent. He had warned you not to look down when you began pulling your body up through the branches.

It seemed he really enjoyed his warnings nowadays.

But, you couldn’t help yourself and shifted to look downward for a moment. And another moment. And another. You couldn’t look away. You were so high up. And you loved it. The wind thrashed through the leaves and unbound stands of your hair from where you had pulled it back. They danced across your face like they had never felt a true breeze before. You felt your body sway with the thick branch you were crouched on, and you threw a wild smile at the boy beneath you, y/e/c eyes glittering with awe. You heard some of the Saeni give an approving hum at your wonder.

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t so bad.

Your grin grew bigger when you saw the mint-haired Saeni raise his hands and speak low and fast. His palms began emanating a blue, glittering light that matched the strands on his head. He was doing an incantation! Or something. You weren’t sure what was going on, but it made you bounce on your branch in anticipation. Your best friend quickly grabbed your calf firmly, silently telling you to calm the fuck down.

You whispered a sorry to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hide your excitement. The blue glow faded and was replaced by a rapid snapping sound that was eerily similar to that of a branch breaking. You look to Jimin in panic, hands tightening around the limb you were perched on. He looked back at you coolly, and none of the other members of the party appeared to be disturbed by the noise. Apparently, everything was fine? You cautiously released your clenched muscles and eased the grip of your hands. You looked back up to the Saeni and your draw dropped when you saw Namjoon wink at you before stepping forward and disappearing down the center of the tree.

“There are certain trees whose roots connect between Earth and Illain. This is one of them. Yoongi can use it to form a bridge of sorts that we can travel through. The bridge just happens to be straight down the middle of the tree itself,” Jimin explained beneath you.

“Whoa… Hey, so Yoongi is Mr. Sparkle Hands?”

“Er. Uh. Yes. Yoongi has the sparkle hands.”

“Thank you for the show Mr. Sparkle Hands!” You called up to the Saeni, who shot you a withering look.

As you patiently waited for your turn to travel through the tree bridge, you swung your legs in the air as you watched the other warriors jump down one after the other.

Hell, this is tons better than a muddy rabbit hole. Take that Alice.

After a couple of minutes, it was just you, Jimin, and Yoongi left at the top of the tree. You heaved yourself up the last few limbs until you were next to Yoongi and peered down at the hole he had opened. It looked like someone has taken a giant drill to the oak, as the innards of the bridge still looked like plain, old wood.

Straightening out, you smiled brightly at the mint-haired male. His petal pink eyes gave you a judgmental glance before looking away, so you were left smiling at his bone ear piercings instead of his face. Undeterred, you gave the earrings a good wink as if they had feelings before you let out a tinkling laugh at the Saeni’s actions.

Jimin climbed up behind you and leaned over your shoulder to gaze at the hole.

“Aww Yoongi. You’re always so thoughtful.” Jimin gave him an appreciative look.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the Saeni grumbled before leaping down the hole himself.

“What was that about?” You asked Jimin.

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” he dismissed, “Look there are some very convenient grooves in the wood on this side, so you can climb down instead of jumping like a maniac.”

“You say maniac as if you’re not about to do the same thing.” You raised a knowing eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, yeah. You know I love a good adrenaline rush. Just get your ass climbing down already.”

While it certainly looked badass, you were in no place to break your leg, or worse, by jumping down to who knows where. Hence, you heeded your friend’s advice and decided on the more practical route. You took a look at the sky and leaves and whispered a goodbye before starting your descent. You made your way down, down, down. Minutes passed, and it became harder to see where to place your hands and feet. The entrance only a small circle far above your head, meaning there was basically zero light at your current position. You began relying on your sense of touch rather than sight, praying that you wouldn’t miss a groove and plummet. It’s an interesting thought: thinking about dying inside of a tree. Which would absolutely blow because the adventure hadn’t even truly begun. Plus, the dying part itself would be a real Debbie Downer on your day.

To whatever higher power is out there, please don’t let me die inside of a damn tree trunk.

“Don’t fret little scorja, you’re not going to die.” A deep, masculine voice echoed up to you.

Shit. Did you say that out loud? You winced with embarrassment, your body briefly locking up before your legs found the next step and kept moving. You couldn’t see anything at this point and you were glad that you did not fear the dark because you don’t think you could have even twitched a muscle if you did. Continuing your descent, you lowered your body until a hand lightly touched your ankle. The unsuspected contact caused you to let out a soft yelp.

“It’s alright. You just have a few more steps to go.” The same deep voice from before comforted you.

A few grooves later, strong hands gripped your waist and eased you onto solid ground.

“Um… thank you, whoever you are,” you said.

“You’re very welcome, little scorja.”

One hand moved from your waist to settle on your shoulder, and you felt the presence of whomever held you lean down to say, “My name is Taehyung.”

Seconds later the seventh and final member of the Kiela had his feet on the ground. The sound of his sudden entrance made you jerk away from Taehyung in surprise. The self-proclaimed adrenaline junkie had jumped after all.

“Fucking maniac,” you joked at your friend, who in turn scooped you into a big hug.

Although you giggled at his affection, you had to internally yell at your heart for getting so excited at his touch. Taking a step out of his embrace to resettle yourself, you wondered how he was able to find you so fast. It was pitch black, the entrance like a small star high above you and you couldn’t see a damned thing. However, everyone else seemed to get around just fine.

“So, do you guys have night vision or something?”

An unknown voice, one that you strongly suspected to be Jungkook’s, replied, “What? The little human can’t see in the dark? What a shame.”

You rolled your eyes, hoping that his “superior” vision allowed him to see it.

“Kookieeee,” Taehyung whined beside you, “why are you being so mean?”

Kookie?

There was a noise that suspiciously sounded like someone had just gotten smacked upside the head. You would bet some money and your next bag french fries (you know when you think you’re all out and huzzah! there’s still more at the bottom of the bag) that one, precious Kookie was on the receiving end.

“Ya! Where are your manners!? I didn’t raise you like this!” A voice shouted.

Jungkook only growled in response.

“Seriously Kook, you need to stop. You’re acting like a child,” another voice said sternly. Namjoon maybe?

With that, his growl turned into a pouty groan. “Hyung!”

Um… why is speaking Korean all of the sudden?

“I teach them a few basic words every summer,” Jimin informed you after sensing your internal question.

“Huh.”

“If you’re all done, can we please get going? The dark is making me tired.” Yet another voice interrupted the situation.

When nobody said anything else, the same voice cursed, “Thank fucking Exia.”

With that, a mint-blue glow lit up the dark and you watched Yoongi crouch down with both hands pointed toward the floor. Several recitations later, another hole was created at your feet. You could see a clear blue sky, thick branches, and fluttering leaves when you curiously tilted up on your tip toes to look through it. You pursed your lips, wondering how the hell you were looking up through the bottom of the floor. You observed as Namjoon got onto his hands and knees and reached out to grab a hold of a tree branch to hoist himself through the hole, or was it down? Or up? You weren’t sure which preposition was correct for the action, but no matter what was right, you were amazed at the process. Once Namjoon was safely settled on a thick branch, the yellow-eyed Saeni reached his hand out to aid the rest of the group in transferring over to the other side.

After you popped out of the hole like a newborn baby, you noticed that you recognized the layout of wooden limbs. You realized that the tree you were on was identical to the one of Earth. The second thing you realized was how sweet and fresh the air smelled. Jimin had mentioned how Illain was more nature than buildings, and you could immediately appreciate the difference that made to the air quality. You continued deeply breathing in the glorious air as you scrambled down the tree to the earthy ground to wait for Jimin to emerge from the tree bridge.

Once everyone had their feet on the dirt, Namjoon gave the order to start moving. Jimin made sure you were doing okay before jogging to catch up and walk with the leader. You mentally cursed your chickpea brain because you still had no idea where you were headed or why the Saeni needed Jimin. You had literally forgotten to ask one of the most important things.

It’s okay chickpea brain, I’m sure you’ll have the chance to ask at some point.

A male came up beside you as you walked. When he reached your side, he flipped off his hood and revealed a bright face with silvery white hair and light brown eyes. He moved with grace, easily evading the natural obstructions in his way. The fluidity of his movements reminded you of something, but you couldn’t put your finger on what. You were trying to rack your chickpea brain for graceful creatures in an effort to pinpoint what it was, when you caught sight of Jimin in front of you. His dancer’s body weaving around trees and fallen logs.

That’s what it is!

The male beside you had the grace of a dancer. You momentarily felt like a walnut since you hadn’t realized it immediately even though you, too, were a dancer, but the thought fled your mind when he spoke.

“You’ve got a pair of gojcha, girl. Going after Jungkook like that.”

You kept your stride but gave him a side glace. His huge smile hit you in the face and caught you off guard, as did his prominent dimples. Although you didn’t know him at all, you go the feeling that he was a very warm and genuine person. That smile would be a damn waste if he weren’t. As the male turned to face forward again, you caught the glint of a single metal earring dangling from his ear. They all liked their piercings, huh? You couldn’t lie and say that it looked bad on him, because good lord, it suited him well. The piercings suited all of them well. Or, you assumed all of them since you had yet to meet the sixth and final full Saeni of the group. Shit… was every Saeni attractive like them? You didn’t know if you could mentally, or physically, handle that.

Peeking another look at him, you saw that he did not carry a sword, but had knives and daggers strapped to almost every accessible inch of his body. Harnesses crossed this way and that to carry them all. In all honesty, it was super hardcore and even borderline NSFW. Basically, it was a fantasy come to life wrapped in one, hot male package for anyone with a knife and BDSM kink. He removed a small, thin blade from its home on his arm and began flipping it around his hand, causing your face to lose color. You didn’t like the thought of pissing this guy off, his nimble movements hinting at his impressive skill with the weapon. But you relaxed when you looked back up to his dimpled smile again.

Damn, his outfit seriously contrasts with his sweet and pretty face. You noted before replying to his comment.

“Well, something’s telling me that his whole show with the dagger is just because he’s, uh, lacking, in other areas.” You let out a laugh. “My leg wasn’t too impressed with Kookie’s lil Biscoff yesterday.”

The male began hacking as he tried to stifle his laughter. Shoulders shaking even harder when the two of you saw Jungkook give you a scowl. You responded with a handsome middle finger, which just riled him up further, causing him to stalk over to you. You were surprised he recognized the gesture and was in the middle of wondering if Jimin taught them the meaning of it when Jungkook stuck his face in yours.

“You don’t get to call me that,” he snarled.

Without a hint of remorse, you replied, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries. I’ll just stick with Coco from here on out.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Coco?”

“Your hair cut makes your head look like a damn coconut, but Coconut Head takes too long to say so… Coco.” You sent out a puff of air to rustle the hair on his forehead to really drive your point home.

The Saeni you had been talking to grabbed Jungkook around the waist as he lunged for you. The scene made the entire group stop and look back at the commotion. Jimin called the furious Jungkook up to him and sent you and apologetic face. Waving it off, you looked back at the Saeni next to you who struggled to maintain a somewhat decent composure.

“Aish. I’m sorry about him. He gets shy around newcomers and forgets how to act properly. Also, I have no clue what a ‘Biscoff’ is, but… I can get what you’re referring to.”

“You call that shy?” You skeptically raised a brow.

He let out a snort before finally gathering himself together. Quieter now, he traced a thumb down the center of his chest toward his stomach, his amber eyes flashing with amusement.

“My name’s Hoseok and well, whatever he may be lacking, it sure isn’t in fighting. He may be our maknae, but he’s our best, and not just out of us,” he indicated to the others, “but in the entire Saeni ranks too. Nobody can beat him.”

“Not for the lack of trying, Hobi.” The grey-headed warrior with the headband from yesterday came over and threw an arm around Hoseok’s shoulders. “Though you did get a good hit in there, little scorja.”

“Taehyung?” You slowly questioned, wondering if it was the same male from inside the tree since he used the same name for you that that male had.

He grinned at you and did the same motion Hoseok had done moments earlier. Thumb traced down the center of his chest. It must be their version of a handshake or wave.

“You can just call me Tae like the rest of the guys do!”

“Tae. Okay. So, you can speak English sometimes?”

“You’re damn right, little scorja. Just like how you’re speaking my language now.”

“Scorja, what does that mean? You keep calling me that.”

It was Hoseok who spoke, “Scorjas are flowers that grow on a vine. Sturdy plants and one of the most beautiful in Illain. They have an innate ability to sense who you are as a person and how pure your intentions are. If your soul pleases the scorja, it will do you no harm. If it does not, then the flower secretes a poison that can cause death if not treated. Not everyone is able to pass the test and safely touch them.”

“Beautiful and gentle until someone tries to mess with it, just like you,” Tae added.

You felt your checks grow warm at his comment and you held your face in your hands to hide any evidence that his words affected you.

“But you don’t know me. I may turn out to be rude and manipulative,” you said with a teasing lilt.

Both males looked at you with fond smiles, like they did, in fact, know you. Which was downright crazy.

“Jimin talks about you a lot when he’s here. What you’re like and how much he misses you. So, in a way, we do know you, little scorja. Beautiful, gentle, and just a tad bit ferocious. The name fits…”

“So, the name stays,” Hoseok finished, dimples emerging again.

Your eyes went wide, and you nearly tripped over the root you were stepping over.

Jimin talks about me?

You and Jimin were obviously great friends, but the fact that he shared you with these people shocked you. These people who he described as his brothers. He shared you with his Kiela, those he considered to be closer than family. Even though you had no idea that they had existed, he still wanted them to know about you. You were that special to him.

Your eyes began to get misty and you quickly blinked to keep the tears at bay. You hummed at the males to acknowledge their words, but you couldn’t look at them. Not when your eyes were locked onto a certain half-human, half-Saeni as he walked ahead of you, oblivious to your soft eyes on his back.

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belizedeservesbetter · 5 years ago

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The Inheritance Isn’t As Good or Important or Meaningful or Deep As It Thinks It Is

the disappointment of the year!

To play off of a quote from the play, one might as well begin with the reviews of the women sitting behind me during Part 1.

“It thinks it’s Angels in America but has nowhere near the amount of depth Angels has.”

When talking about The Inheritance, it’s inevitable that Angels in America comes up as well. Both are very very long plays in two parts that are about gay men in New York. Both deal with the AIDS crisis, but while Angels in America takes place in the 80s, The Inheritance takes place in 2016. Angels in America is a modern classic and expertly tackles a multitude of themes in ideas, hence the subtitle of “A Gay Fantasia on National Themes.” The Inheritance, well, it wants to tackle some issues.

The Inheritance really really wants to be a big important play. It wants to be the Angels of this generation. You can literally feel how bad playwright Matthew Lopez wants this play to be Meaningful and Deep and Important. However, this play is as deep as the shallow end of a pool. Throughout the play, I kept coming back to a moment in Angels in America where Louis is telling Prior how much he is hurting and how much he loves him and Prior says “he loves, but his love is worth nothing.” Belize has a similar moment with Louis where he tells Louis that he is talking quite a bit but not actually saying anything.

The Inheritance talks enough to fill six hours but ultimately says absolutely nothing.

I had read The Inheritance a while back and wasn’t a fan of it but thought that seeing it would be like Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, which I ended up loving despite not liking it very much when I just read it.

Alas.

I think I need to tackle this play in two parts because both plays could easily stand alone and my thoughts on each were a bit different.

**some spoilers throughout**

Part 1

I actually enjoyed Part One. I enjoyed it in the same way I enjoy Gossip Girl. It’s a bit of a mess but I had a good time. At least Part 1 is coherent. To be honest, Part 1 could’ve been a stand alone play and while it would not have been a great play, it would have been good. Part 2 ruined it BUT we’re not there yet.

It’s hard to explain what The Inheritance is about without getting too spoilery and getting into a long winded ramble but it’s kind of an adaption of Howard’s End in the sense that E.M. Forrester (who other characters call Morgan) is a narrator who narrates sometimes (this is inconsistent) and it kinda follows the plot of the book but the important part is the main characters are Toby Darling and Eric Glass. They’ve been together for 8 years and live in Eric’s awesome rent controlled apartment. They’re kinda sorta close with this gay couple that lives in their building named Henry Wilcox and Walter Poole. They have a close friend group. Toby turns his novel (called Loved Boy) into a play, which stars Toby and Eric’s protege who is a rich kid named Adam. However, as Toby and Adam grow closer, so does Eric and Walter. There aren’t many stakes in this play but I guess drama ensues.

The play is very oddly hypocritical. The characters are CONSTANTLY talking about wanting to be truthful and authentic and how they hate what is fake. However, this play feels very fake and very inauthentic. Characters go on long diatribes about things that do not matter. There is a very very long scene where a group of characters talk about what it means to be gay in America today and they say nothing new or important, even though they think they are. They talk about things that ultimately mean nothing. They often say “we need to talk about *insert something actually important*” but never actually talk about it. They don’t even argue with each other. Everyone generally agrees with each other and they are mostly speaking to have their voice heard.

This play does a lot of telling instead of showing. I liked the use of characters talking about things in the third person/narrating themselves (and I liked it a lot less when Morgan did it because I had no idea why he was there but loved when Eric and Toby did it) but they would often tell us things instead of showing us things. For example, we are told like 10 times through Part 1 that Eric is so special and so important and so remarkable. However, I have no idea why. He’s a very nice guy but there is nothing that warrants this level of praise. Likewise, instead of characters actually growing and learning, it’s explained away with narration. Characters even get out of tricky situations simply through Morgan saying that they did.

Toby Darling writes a play and the reviews for his play are that the acting is amazing but the play itself leaves much to be desired. Crazy how Matthew Lopez reviewed his own play already!

To put the writing aside for a bit, I thought a lot of the acting was really wonderful.

The three standouts were Sam Lilja (understudy for Eric Glass), Andrew Burnap (Toby Darling) and Tony Goldwyn (Henry Wilcox).

I thought Sam Lilja was absolutely amazing as Eric and I loved every moment he was onstage. He brought this warmth and care to the role that I really enjoyed. He has an amazing stage presence and even though I have problems with how Eric Glass is written, I loved his performance and thought he was the highlight of the play. His Eric Glass gave love to whoever would have it and you could see his heart absolutely break in two when he (SPOILER) has his big break up with Toby. I’m sad he’s the understudy because he absolutely deserves a Tony nomination for this performance. The way he ends Part 1 was truly beautiful and will stay with me for a while.

Andrew Burnap was 85% wonderful and 15% Prior Walter impression. I’ll go more into my thoughts on Toby Darling as a character later but for the most part I really loved Burnap’s performance. He has this certain kind of energy that makes the theatre filled with electricity whenever he was onstage. I missed him when he wasn’t there. Toby Darling can very easily be played as a one note kind of person but Burnap gives him layers upon layers. I loved watching him onstage. However, there were also some moments where I could very clearly tell he’s watched the National Theatre Live’s recording of Angels in America too many times and was emulating Andrew Garfield as best as he could. He even does the same voice a couple times. However, overall I thought Burnap was great.

I had forgotten Tony Goldwyn was in The Inheritance for a while because Henry Wilcox doesn’t show up until the end of Part 1 in a very intense scene so when he did finally appear I was a little shocked to see him and was briefly taken right out of the scene cause in my head I was like “Oh look it’s Tony Goldwyn!” And my brain has a very good reason to have that reaction because he’s great! Henry Wilcox is a tough character because he’s awful but you must root for him. He stands for all that is bad but at the same time you have to like him because (BIG SPOILER) Eric loves him and you trust Eric because Sam Lilja is so good. Somehow Goldwyn balances all of this. His scenes with Lilja and Paul Hilton (Walter Poole/Morgan) were especially good.

Speaking of Walter, there are two very great parts in Part 1 that are probably the parts you keep hearing about if you’ve looked into this play in any capacity. There’s a moment about halfway through Part 1 and then at the end of Part 1 that are very truly beautiful moments that have to do with Eric and, to an extent, Walter Poole. At the top of the play, Walter is Henry’s partner who becomes good friends with Eric and teaches him about what it was like to be gay in the 80s and how he owns this big house upstate where he (SPOILER) housed people dying of AIDS and took care of them and essentially ruined his relationship with Henry because of it. There’s a moment where Eric makes a comment about how he has no idea what living through the AIDS crisis must have been like and the following moment that ensues is one of the highlights of the play. I’m not going to say anything else about that because it’s heartbreaking and really takes you by surprise. The other great moment ends Part One and again, this is the moment you’ve probably already heard of because it’s the moment people seem to be talking about the most. I will say, Beautiful Theatrical Thing That Occurs At The End aside, this scene is sold on Eric’s reaction to it. And again, because I feel like this review is turning into me talking about how great Sam Lilja was, his acting in this moment was super lovely.

Stephen Daldry’s directing was... interesting, I guess. I liked its simplicity and all but there were times that it felt kind of haphazard. I don’t really understand why no one wore shoes. I’m sure there’s a great explanation for it but for the life of me I couldn’t understand why. Henry Wilcox wore shoes. Walter Poole/Morgan wore shoes. In Part 2, Lois Smith’s character wears shoes. Even Eric wears shoes for a bit in Part 2 before taking them off again at the end. When Eric did it I knew they were ~ symbolic ~ of something but i just couldn’t get it. I did like how simple the staging was. There’s a lot of plot going on so I appreciated a very straightforward approach to the staging. There were some neat stage pictures too. The monologues in this play are very long but they were staged in a way that I was with them through it.

There is only one directing bit that I took real issue with (and I’m putting this on the writing too) but there’s a part towards the beginning of the play where Eric wants to have sex with Toby to avoid bringing up an issue with his apartment and Morgan will not let the audience see the explicit details, resulting in a really weird dance that is played entirely for laughs. For example, they do squats and twirls around each other and fake moan and whatnot. In a play that wants to be groundbreaking and important, why not let your characters actually be intimate with each other? Plays with straight characters do it all the time! Take Linda Vista for example! And it doesn’t even have to be as wildly explicit as Linda Vista’s sex scenes were! The weird sex dance was honestly really offputting and I heard many “what?” and “what is happening?” complaints from the audience. A lot of moments that had any emotional weight were quickly played off for a laugh, but this was the one that made me cringe.

So in all, I liked Part 1. I really like Toby and Eric and for the most part their scenes were the best parts of the play. Part 1 ends in a very nice and emotional way that’s a bit emotionally manipulative but ultimately felt like a true ending and I was emotionally satisfied. There’s some truly beautiful moments in Part 1 and a semi-clear focus that kept me engaged and liking the characters for the full three hours and fifteen minutes. Again, as I’ve said before time and time again, I really loved Sam Lilja and thought his performance was marvelous. He also looks strikingly like Rhea Butcher. Take that as you will.

To go briefly into the ticket logistics: I got to the box office at around 12 on a Friday and there was no line and they had plenty of rush tickets available. I had a wonderful front row side seat with a lot of leg room. The theatre wasn’t terribly full. I didn’t stage door but someone I was talking to after the show said most everyone comes out and signs.

Part 2

Oh boy.

I really didn’t like Part 2.

Like I didn’t like Part 2 so much that it almost ruined the entire play for me.

This is going to be a lot of spoilers because I have no other way to process the mess that was Part 2 of The Inheritance.

I was talking to the guy at the box office and he was telling me how Part 2 sells a lot better than Part 1 because they do Part 1 five times a week while they only do Part 2 three times a week. They do Part 1 Wednesdays - Sundays, but Part 2 only on Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday nights. Thursdays and Fridays are both Part 1. I wondered why they didn’t have a system in place like Angels in America had, until I saw Part 2 of The Inheritance and understood why the producers want to do Part 2 as little as possible.

Guys, Part 2 of The Inheritance is really really bad.

All the heavy handed writing in Part 1 that I was willing to forgive just becomes even more heavy handed and even more cliche. The whole play feels completely different, partly because they mostly give up on the E.M. Forrester as a character bit until one random scene towards the end where he returns. Even the characters have given up on Howard’s End! Where in Part 1 the characters constantly talk about Howard’s End, which I guess makes sense because the entire play is an adaptation on it, in Part 2 they strictly talk about Maurice. And that is the least of my problems with Part 2!

Part 2′s fatal flaw is that the play suddenly becomes about a boy named Leo. Who is Leo? Well, to talk about Leo we first need to backtrack to Part 1 to a boy named Adam.

As I briefly touched on before, Adam is an actor (with a very privileged background) who Toby meets and puts in his play. SPOILERS but Toby falls in love with Adam. Adam has these monologues about how he was adopted when he was two weeks old by billionaire parents so he knows what real struggle is. This bit of character info is often repeated and it becomes more and more laughable but the play took this very seriously, which was strange. Adam has this other monologue about hooking up with a lot of men in a bathhouse in Prague and almost getting HIV. Bigger Spoiler but this monologue has a moment where the actor playing Adam (Samuel H. Levine) reaches into his underwear and when he pulls out his hand, it’s covered in blood and he tells Toby about how he had sex with so many men that his ass was bleeding.

Leo has a very similar monologue, bloody hand and all. He’s even HIV positive. Check out Louis Peitzman’s article which I have linked at the end with more on that.

Anyways, Adam won’t sleep with Toby so Toby self-destructs and ruins the one good thing he has aka his relationship with Eric and hires a prostitute named Leo who looks EXACTLY like Adam. He looks so much like Adam that Samuel H. Levine also plays Leo. Leo is in exactly one scene in Part 1 and it works because it ends Toby’s arc in how he can’t what is real (he thinks it’s Adam but it’s actually Eric) so he chooses to live in what is fake (drugs, alcohol and Adam’s prostitute doppleganger). This is messy and not handled that well but at least I see where the dots connect.

However, in Part 2, Adam basically disappears and the play very suddenly becomes all about Leo.

And it is so horribly handled.

Adam is very rich and stands very tall and talks very confidently. Leo, on the other hand, is very poor and stands hunched over and talks like he’s constantly crying. There’s a very strange amount of poverty porn going on in Part 2. We are constantly hearing about how poor Leo is and all the things he’s had to do for food, shelter and drugs. There’s a moment where he’d huddled on the ground and eating peanut butter out of a jar while the ensemble tells you for like the tenth time how destitute he is.

Oh yeah and there’s a scene between Adam and Leo that is staged so oddly I have no idea how it made it past previews. It’s as horribly handled as you think it is - with Levine going from standing up straight to hunched over repeatedly for like five minutes.

The worst part of the play is the weird scene where Leo meets Morgan in a dream and tells him to become a writer and then at the end Leo reveals that the play you’ve been watching is a book he wrote called, you guessed it, The Inheritance.

Yikes.

Also, for some reason Leo talks like he’s ten years old. There’s actually this strange recurring theme in Part 2 where Matthew Lopez thinks the next generation doesn’t know what AIDS is. There’s a whole moment where a doctor has to explain to Leo what HIV is. Eric also explains it again to Leo for good measure. Likewise, there is a scene where Eric has all of his friends over and his friend/boss Jasper brings his young artist boyfriend and the topic of the AIDS crisis comes up and Jasper’s boyfriend talks about how he doesn’t know what that is and how he doesn’t know what T cells are. Tristan, who is literally The Inheritance’s version of Belize (same mannerisms and one-liners, basically the only person of color in the play and a doctor to boot), then explains it to him. However, Jasper’s boyfriend not knowing literally anything is purely there so Lopez can make a long winded analogy about America being a body, democracy being T cells and Donald Trump being an embodiment of AIDS. Does Matthew Lopez think this next generation doesn’t know what AIDS is? It’s so condescendingly explained and it seems that any character under thirty doesn’t know what it is, when, in an age of smart phones with limitless information, it seems like more people would know what it is now than ever.

But I digress.

Somewhere in all this Eric’s plot line goes down the drain because he decides to marry Henry Wilcox. This could have worked if Henry wasn’t a billionaire republican who is friends with Trump and if the play didn’t so heavily establish that Eric works for a social justice nonprofit and is a passionate activist. There is no chance in hell someone like Eric would so willingly marry someone who is literal friends with a literal demon. He marries Henry because the play tells him he has to. And again, much like in Part 1, we hear so often from various narration about how wonderful and important and remarkable Eric is, without giving us any reason why.

Much like Part 1, there aren’t any real stakes in this play and no sense of any ticking clock or whatnot. Things just kinda happen at the pace they do because the various narrators (and Morgan in Part 1) say they do.

There’s one good scene in Part 2 when Toby shows up at Eric’s wedding and tries to save him from Henry and Eric has a breakdown and yells and yells at Toby about all the terrible things Toby has done and put him through and it’s a really delicious moment that I wish the play had more of.

From there to the end, the play horribly mishandles each of its characters. However, Part 2 of The Inheritance could have been very good. The solutions to all the bad things in the play could very easily have been implemented, but, instead, the play just spirals. So I want to go into that for a bit, because the rest of the play is a shit storm.

For starters, Leo needs to go because his plot just doesn’t work. At all. The play was originally about Eric and Toby, and, to a lesser extent, Walter and Henry. With Walter (spoilers) dead, the play does shift more of its focus to Henry, who I’ll start with first.

Henry Wilcox’s big problem is that he refuses to let go of his past. He pushed Walter away because he couldn’t deal with the AIDS crisis. He shut down and focused on his work, which made him bitter and jaded and warped his sense of love. The past haunts him so much that he refuses to sleep with his HUSBAND Eric because of it. That’s not a good reason and the fact that he expects Eric to deal with a sexless marriage is one of the more wildly unrealistic parts of the play. But you know what, this is a play so I’ll roll with it for a bit. Henry’s problem is the most clearly defined and has the clearest solution. He needs to move on from his past. This play talks constantly about needing to move on from the past. What happens is Eric and Henry get divorced and the ghost of Walter tells Henry to live before they walk off into a ghostly sunrise. That isn’t a solution. A ghost cannot tell you to be better and then you suddenly become better. Eric needs to help him through this, as well as Walter’s big house upstate. The best physical representation of Henry finally being able to move on from his past would be him sleeping with Eric. If Stephen Daldry wants to continue with this weird dance combo being the equivalent of sex, then they can do this beautiful waltz. You can even have Toby narrate it, especially because the Henry/Eric relationship hurts him the most. Henry and Eric don’t even need to ultimately stay together - and they shouldn’t - but Henry cannot finally move on from his past in the literal last minute of the play because a ghost magically cured him. The easiest solution was literally sitting right there. Literally. Eric sits next to him a lot.

This play has a big Toby Darling problem that it loses its grip on and lets flop on the floor like a fish. Toby has a big personality and a nasty self-destructive streak. The foundations for Toby are fantastic. He’s flawed yet funny and breaks Eric heart while simultaneously breaking his own. Toby, like just about every other character in this play, needs to move on from his past. Toby’s past is one he keeps close to his chest and is so unrealistically traumatic that it doesn’t even make sense. But again, this is a play and not the real world so let’s just accept this for a moment. Toby is constantly talking about how he wants to be loved. He is, by both Eric and Leo, but of course he doesn’t see that. He thinks Adam is the answer to all of his problems. Toby knows how “fake” he is and thinks he can bury that feeling with Adam and fame and fortune and all the drugs in the world.

However, and this is the biggest SPOILER of them all, when he is finally forced to confront his past, he decides he cannot do it and kills himself by driving into a concrete wall. This is shown onstage with Toby standing in a spotlight while the little kid version of himself jumps into his arms. The beautiful way this is staged gives off the idea that Toby made the right decision when this is not only the most unsatisfying way to end Toby’s arc but also the laziest. And, of course, a really disturbing message to send to your audience. You cannot have a six hour play with a static main character! You cannot have a six hour play where said character kills himself and have the scene immediately after be Walter telling Henry he must live. Toby’s death is also super jarring because it very much feels like he died because the playwright wanted him to die. Going back to Toby’s desire to be loved and how that’s connected to his past, I think he needed to realize that the way to move on from his past is be better than his past. He wants to be loved, and he is loved, but he needs to give love as well. Eric very clearly loved Toby, but he didn’t often feel like Toby loved him as much as he did. We know from Toby’s narration how that isn’t the case and Eric meant so much to him. The Inheritance as a whole has a scene towards the beginning where Eric proposes to Toby and Toby says yes but it isn’t all that romantic, with Toby later telling Eric that he was purposely trying to trap him. In my opinion, I think The Inheritance needs to end with Toby making a grand romantic gesture towards Eric. We don’t even need to see if Eric accepts it or not. It’s better if we don’t. We just need to see that Toby has changed, or at least is trying to. It’d be better than the terrible ending we got anyways.

Toby can’t just die without any change or even an attempt at change (writing a sequel to his play doesn’t count) because it’s a six and a half hour long play. If it was a simple 90 minutes, I could accept that more but if you’re writing a two part epic, you need to give the audience a reason to be there.

Interestingly enough, Andrew Burnap keeps playing Toby like Prior when he’s really a Louis.

On to Eric, who, as we are told in every other scene, is just so remarkable and special and important. Why? I guess because he’s a nice person. I still don’t know why this information is so often repeated to us. Something else that was strange was that we found out the intimate details of everyone’s past, except for Eric. We know that he’s on good terms with his parents and he lives in his grandmother’s rent controlled apartment and that’s about it. Eric isn’t really given any flaws. On paper, he’s perfect. Luckily, in performance, Sam Lilja gives him more layers than that.

Eric is given the worst ending of all, and by that I mean in an extended narration sequence/epilogue, he is quickly married off to a nameless/faceless character we have not seen and is told he lives happily ever after. The fact that Eric is married off to someone we’ve never even heard of doesn’t fly with me. This is a long play and for Eric’s entire life to be wrapped up into a neat little bow in the epilogue was the most unsatisfying way for this play to end. Leo had a similar ending - becoming a writer and marrying a nameless/faceless character we’ve never seen. For this six hour long play to end with a quick and easy narrated monologue wrapping up literally every plot point was one of the most disappointing endings to a play I have ever seen. Everything was resolved with a quick wave of a hand because the characters say so.

Ultimately, this play says absolutely nothing new or important. It briefly starts conversations on a lot of interesting themes and ideas but never explores them in any meaningful way. There are tear-jerker moments for the sake of wanting the audience to cry because there isn’t a single organic thing about this play that otherwise would. Likewise, for a play that keeps talking about putting the past behind you, it is utterly obsessed with the past and not moving forward from it. The cognitive dissonance in this play was astounding.

The most compelling story in The Inheritance is between Eric and Toby and yet Matthew Lopez suddenly turns it into a play about Leo. These characters are constantly circling each other, both metaphorically and physically. The dynamic between the two of them is where the play feels its most honest. How they both grow and change in each other’s orbit is where the play has the strongest legs. If only Matthew Lopez let it walk.

But the real problem is, The Inheritance really believes it’s saying important and meaningful things and there is no moving past that.

I made a separate post about this but I’ll bring it up here too but every main character is played by a straight person. The actors who play Eric Glass, Toby Darling, Adam/Leo, Walter Poole/Morgan and Henry Wilcox are all straight. I get it, you cannot ask someone if they’re gay during the audition because that can easily lead into a Lee Pace situation where someone is forcibly outed when they don’t want to be. I get that.

However, this is a play about gay men in NYC with a cast of actors who are not particularly famous. This is also New York City. It’s not like there’s a lack of talented gay actors out there. I know that Andrew Burnap is friends with Matthew Lopez and you often cast the actors you work with a lot in your work, but really not a single gay actor amongst your primary characters? As much as I loved Tony Goldwyn, he was certainly cast with the hopes of bringing in a bigger audience and they could have easily cast a well known older gay actor. The Boys in the Band did it, so why not The Inheritance?

Anyways that was a review almost as long as the play itself (if anyone actually reads this whole thing I will be shocked) and I still feel like I haven’t sorted out all my feelings on the play. So I guess the thought I’ll end on is I was really disappointed in this play as a whole. I wanted to see something very profound and important. I so badly wanted this play filled with gay characters and huge hype from London to be really outstanding.

I like these reviews too so I’ll link them below is you want to check them out:

Kyle Turner

Louis Peitzman

Isaac Butler (who thinks the play is about Eric but honestly after Part 2 I don’t think so)

**part of me wants to go see Part 1 again (with that ridiculously easy rush) just to see Kyle Soller, who is the main guy who plays Eric Glass because if Sam Lilja was so good, imagine how good Kyle Soller is! But there’s no way I’ll sit through Part 2 again.

#the inheritance #broadway #matthew lopez #review

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