#(which I’m willing to admit I participate in because I’m not comfortable expressing my own discomfort)
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sailforvalinor · 2 years ago
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Hi, first off I ship Zutara and I come in peace. I was pointed your way by a friend when I asked for people who ship kataang who are nevertheless willing to hear different views. I have lurked on blog a week and finally got up my nerve to ask how you or any other Kataang can deny that the last part of book 3 was completely Zutara but then stopped abruptly with no buildup? You can finesse tone on text so I'm not being sarcastic or bitchy, it is a serious question (1/5)
In The Southern Raiders, Katara realizes she has been wrong about Zuko. In Ember Island Players, she realizes Aang is not as mature as she thought he was, and in the finale, Katara does not care a whit that Aang is gone. I am serious and as someone who is no Aang stan but likes him, I’m actually annoyed by how little anyone cared about his disappearance. It went from “Aang’s gone!” to “Okay whatever, let’s find Iroh so he can kill Ozai.” (2/5)
Katara was all over Zuko (honestly, again not being a jerk) in the finale until for whatever reason, she wasn’t. She was giving him a pep talk about Iroh, she was going with him to Azula, she was healing him and saying he saved her not the other way around. I genuinely don’t get why this isn’t seen as romantic. I will grant you that Zuko would not have allowed Azula to kill anyone but I feel the point here was Zuko realizing his life was pointless if Katara was killed. (4/5)
And then literally at the end, Mai shows up after Zuko not talking about her at all for six episodes and declares herself Zuko’s girlfriend. And Katara kisses Aang after being annoyed with and by him arguably since The Southern Raiders. I get that Kataang “won” and I’ve made peace with that, but ... I can’t understand why Kataang shippers are okay with such a crap story. I swear on my gmom [sic] if they’d done this for [Zvtara], I’d be mad as hell. So I don’t understand, I really don’t. (5/5)
As always, I shall begin with a disclaimer: anon, you do not have to agree with this post. No one has to agree with this post, as it is strictly my own thoughts on the subject matter raised here! As per usual, I will not be putting this in the main tags - much less the Zvtara tag! - because I have basic fandom decency, lmao. If you (the general you, not anon specifically) do disagree with this post, that is totally fine, I simply ask that you are polite in expressing your disagreement (if you choose to do so at all! no one is expected to, lmao. i promise).
Alright. Formalities are out of the way!
I’ll admit I giggled a little bit when you say you lurked on my blog for a week, because I’ve actually talked about this subject numerous times in the past! I just found it funny you hadn’t stumbled across any posts about it yet, lol. So, as a heads up, know that I will be providing several links in this post since - again - this subject and related subjects have been analyzed a multitude of times before. I highly recommend reading them all! Mostly because I don’t intend to spend forever restating what’s been said over and over and over lmaooo. I will provide the resources, but it is up to each individual to take advantage of them.
To begin: your ask actually contains a few logical fallacies, anon! I do not mean this as shade or to belittle you - I fall victim to this issue all the time myself. Anyone who writes analyses or participates in debates does! Humans are imperfect and often like to cut corners to reach a conclusion. It is nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about because - as the existence of your ask in inbox indicates - you are willing to learn more. So kudos to you, my friend!
Alright. So what logical fallacies am I talking about here? (For the record: specific definitions of logical fallacies were taken from here.)
1. Hasty Generalization.
“A hasty generalization is a general statement without sufficient evidence to support it.” Numerous claims are made in this ask that I have absolutely no doubt you believe to be true, anon, but there really isn’t any concrete evidence to support it! I will go into more detail later, of course, but let’s quickly look at one example:
“In Ember Island Players, [Katara] realizes Aang is not as mature as she thought he was…”
For the time being, I will ask but one question: from the show itself, not fanon, how do you know this?
2. Causal Fallacy
Ah, this guy. My own worst enemy, tbh! “A causal fallacy is any logical breakdown when identifying a cause,” of which there are several types. “One causal fallacy is the false cause or non causa pro causa (‘not the-cause for a cause’) fallacy, which is when you conclude about a cause without enough evidence to do so.” In your ask, you claim:
“I will grant you that Zuko would not have allowed Azula to kill anyone but I feel the point here was Zuko realizing his life was pointless if Katara was killed.”
Again, for the time being, I will ask only one question: from the show itself, not fanon, what led you to believe this statement?
“Another kind of causal fallacy is the correlational fallacy also known as cum hoc ergo propter hoc (Lat., ‘with this therefore because of this’). This fallacy happens when you mistakenly interpret two things found together as being causally related.” In your ask, you claim:
“Katara was all over Zuko (honestly, again not being a jerk) in the finale until for whatever reason, she wasn’t. She was giving him a pep talk about Iroh, she was going with him to Azula, she was healing him and saying he saved her not the other way around. I genuinely don’t get why this isn’t seen as romantic.”
I will ask one question: from the show itself, not fanon, why would you believe these are indicative of romance? (Consider the context the show is situated in, too - e.g. the war, Katara being Azula’s only available match in skill, etc.)
The reason I bring up the issue of logical fallacies is again not at all to make you feel bad, anon!! You were simply trying to express your point to me and I greatly appreciate you taking the time to do so. See, your ask actually presents a larger fandom trend:
Misconstruing fanon as canon.
What you have offered to me, anon, are fanon conclusions. To clarify: there is absolutely nothing wrong with fanon. I adore fanon interpretations (an example I have used in the past is Kuzaang - like, I don’t care that there’s no canon basis! I do what I want lmao!), but a line has to be drawn between exploring fanon interpretations and expecting everyone to take that fanon as canon. Again, anon, this is not your fault! It is not any one person’s fault, lmao. It is an issue of fandom as a whole, and all of us fall victim to it.
With that in mind, I will break down the different components of your ask. I will also do my best to be brief - as aforementioned, I and others have analyzed this issue numerous times before, lmao. To avoid confusion, it would be best to read through each or at least most links as they are provided!
Firstly, there are two posts I have made in the past that almost directly answer your overarching question here in this ask. Please read them prior to continuing, as I will occasionally reference them:
This post explains how Zvtara was not built up from TSR/EIP-onwards, and how their supposed “canon enemies to lovers arc” is a completely fanon construction.
This post explains the issue of the “canon Zvtara” rhetoric from rabid zkers (and you, anon, are absolutely NOT one, in case you were worried).
Alrighty. With that out the way, let’s get into it!
“In The Southern Raiders, Katara realizes she has been wrong about Zuko.”
Gotta start by saying that TSR is not about Zuko. TSR is, first and foremost, about Katara. Katara does not realize she was wrong about Zuko, because here’s the truth - she wasn’t wrong about him. Zuko did horrible things to the Gaang. Katara was not wrong to hold him accountable for that. What Katara does realize is that holding such rage so close to her chest is bad for her. This rage was not solely anger against Zuko, either; it was of course about Yon Rha, too, but it was also anger towards Kya and Katara herself. Essentially, TSR is where Katara realizes she has to forgive herself. Zuko is only one part of her journey (similar to Aang’s role in the episode, if a different end of the spectrum).
This post explains how TSR was fundamentally about Katara.
Additional resources about TSR:
This post explains Aang’s comments to Katara in TSR and how Katara herself recognized their validity.
This post explains why both Aang and Zuko were important to Katara in TSR.
This post is an extensive breakdown of Aang and Katara’s relationship within TSR.
“In Ember Island Players, [Katara] realizes Aang is not as mature as she thought he was…”
You provide no context for this claim, so I’m going to work with the assumption this is about their reactions to the play itself and the infamous kiss!
There is something important we must keep in mind when discussing EIP: the play they watch is literally imperialist propaganda. It is meant to demean the entire Gaang, and indeed it does exactly that. You mention Katara and Aang specifically, so I will recap what I have explained before about their depictions in EIP: Katara, an indigenous woman, is hypersexualized and portrayed as overly emotional (and thus “irrational”). This reinforces the Fire Nation sentiment that women of the Water Tribes are less intelligent and less suited for “responsibility” than Fire Nation women. Aang, a pacifist and the sole survivor of genocide who is also canonly the male character most comfortable with femininity and spirituality, is portrayed as a flighty, airheaded woman (this is a well-known imperialist tactic meant to emasculate the target, seeing as masculinity was often equated with power in fascist regimes; thus, they effectively belittled Aang before the FN audience). This reinforces the Fire Nation sentiment that the Air Nomads were foolish, weak people who deserved to die.
In other words, of course Aang and Katara were upset about how they portrayed in the play. It is understandable that tensions would be running high and consequently that mistakes (we all know the one) would be made.
This post explains how EIP belittles each member of the Gaang (and why the play is not indicative of Zvtara).
This post talks specifically about EIP and their portrayal of Aang and Katara.
Now onto the kiss. As everyone knows and no one has ever disagreed with, Aang was wrong to kiss Katara. Point blank!
But what people do misunderstand is Katara and Aang’s feelings regarding the kiss. Given your above quote, I assume you believe Aang kissing Katara supposedly made her realize that Aang wasn’t as mature as she once thought. On the surface, this seems like a logical conclusion! But digging deeper reveals… well, there’s nothing that indicates this conclusion at all. Even jumping ahead to the finale, when Zuko has doubts over Aang’s return, Katara demonstrates her faith in Aang (although of course she’s nervous - I won’t deny the obvious, lmao) as she says, “Aang won’t lose. He’s gonna come back. He has to.”
In other words, nothing in canon suggests that Katara believes Aang is immature because of what happened in EIP. She still trusts in his return, as she did even before she knew him (and arguably is more confident in him now, given the 60~ episodes of them growing closer). Furthermore, when Aang does disappear, Katara doesn’t have an outburst about how “immature” it was for him to “run away again.” The viewers know Aang didn’t run away, of course (fans who insist he did are not worth arguing with, anon - they don’t understand the show, rip), but that is a luxury the rest of the Gaang is not afforded. And yet even though Aang has vanished off the face of the planet, Katara still believes he will save the world. If anything, that signifies the utmost confidence in his skill and maturity!
To go back to the kiss itself, this post explains the true source of Katara’s conflict in turning down Aang (hint: she says it herself in the episode! you know, the whole war going on) and why the EIP kiss did not sink Kataang’s relationship.
Additional sources about EIP:
This post explains how the EIP kiss was resolved through narrative parallels.
This post explains how the EIP kiss is so often blown out of proportion.
“… and in the finale, Katara does not care a whit that Aang is gone. I am serious and as someone who is no Aang stan but likes him, I’m actually annoyed by how little anyone cared about his disappearance. It went from ‘Aang’s gone!’ to ‘Okay whatever, let’s find Iroh so he can kill Ozai.’”
As I already touched upon, Katara didn’t need a soliloquy to emphasize her connection to Aang once he disappeared. She trusts that he will return. She says so herself. I guess I just don’t understand how you got from Point A, Katara has consistent faith in Aang, to Point B, Katara and the rest of the Gaang didn’t care about Aang’s disappearance. It’s honestly a bit more like Point A to Point Z, lmao! If you would like to expand on your logic here, I would love to hear more!!
There are a few specific aspects I want to note about your rationale, though. You argue the Gaang moves from ‘Aang disappeared’ to ‘let’s find Iroh,’ but the Gaang actually went from:
1. Aang disappeared!
2. They search the entire island for him.
3. Okay, they couldn’t find him, so they track down June and have her try to find Aang.
4. June says to them, “No, I mean he’s gone gone. He doesn’t exist.” (And she clarifies to Sokka that she doesn’t mean dead, either - she means Aang has totally blinked out of their world.)
5. Only after all of this do they decide to track down Iroh.
The Gaang cares immensely about the fact that Aang is gone, and you could actually argue they waste time by trying to track him down. They don’t give up until June essentially tells them that some Spirit World shenanigans were involved. Even if you don’t think they reached that specific conclusion, I have to ask: What else were they supposed to do? They were told Aang didn’t exist! How are they supposed to fix that?
Well, they can’t. So they do the next best thing: they find Iroh, the man who knows Ozai better than anyone and is also one of the most talented firebenders in the world. In my opinion, that’s a very logical step to take.
“Katara was all over Zuko (honestly, again not being a jerk) in the finale until for whatever reason, she wasn’t. She was giving him a pep talk about Iroh, she was going with him to Azula, she was healing him and saying he saved her not the other way around. I genuinely don’t get why this isn’t seen as romantic.”
I’ll be blunt here, lol: in my opinion, nothing of what you listed in your ask is inherently romantic.
Okay. I am going to assume you’ve read the first two posts I linked earlier (“Zvtara did not have an E-L arc” and “the ‘canon’ Zvtara of rabid zkers has issues”), because I do not intend to rehash everything they contain, lol. Consequently, I presume you realize by now that there was no canon romantic interest between Zuko and Katara.
And as I always say, just because there wasn’t a canon romance doesn’t mean people can’t take fanon routes! Of course they can! That’s the entire point of fanon! But fanon is not canon, and I am strictly referring to canon in my discussions.
You claim Katara was all over Zuko, which in itself I don’t think is an accurate assessment, because she doesn’t really do anything with Zuko outside the three points you bring up (other than the June gag, which I addressed in one of the aforementioned linked posts). So I’ll go ahead and break down each instance you provide!
1. “[Katara] was giving [Zuko] a pep talk about Iroh”
Katara asked Zuko if he was okay. She asked him if he was genuinely sorry. She reassures him that Iroh will forgive him. That’s… all. Not to diminish the significance of this conversation, but it’s not exactly an intimate, romantically-charged discussion (unless fanon-ized). But on that note, let’s tackle the canon significance of this moment!
Katara knows firsthand the challenge of forgiving Zuko. And she knows that Zuko understands how hard it was for her to forgive him (note: Katara’s anger was totally justified, and anyone who disagrees is probably a rabid Zuko stan lmao). She also recognizes that Zuko is terrified it will take Iroh the same struggle to forgive him that Katara went through. This scene is not related to romance at all. It’s about compassion. It’s about Katara and Zuko’s friendship having progressed, slowly but surely, to the point where she’s not afraid to extend empathy to him anymore (seeing as the first time, beneath Ba Sing Se, did not go so well; you know - Aang died and all). It’s about Zuko recognizing his own fallibility (and the audience recognizing how much he’s grown). He questions how he can even face his uncle after all he’s done to the man, which is a far cry from his entitled attitude in TSR, where he demanded to know why Katara didn’t trust him when everyone else had forgiven him.
To make this moment, this moment about Zuko’s relationship with his uncle who is all but a literal father to him, this moment of vulnerability, of guilt, of remorse, of growth, to claim this powerful moment is about a nonexistent romantic relationship? In my opinion, that is incredibly reductive to what this scene is supposed to signify. And again, there is nothing wrong with people exploring such a possibility in fanon, but in canon? Nah. It doesn’t track.
2. “[Katara] was going with [Zuko] to Azula”
Don’t forget that at first, Zuko planned to take on Azula alone. He doesn’t request Katara to accompany him until Iroh tells him that he’ll need help. As such, Zuko’s immediate agreement with Iroh is reflective of his personal growth (Book 1 and 2 Zuko would have argued and insisted he didn’t need any help). It also demonstrates, however, that Katara was not obsessively on Zuko’s mind. He doesn’t choose Katara until Iroh points out that Zuko will need assistance in taking Azula down. This means that Zuko’s choice of Katara to join him is a tactical decision, not an emotional one. And by all accounts, it’s a damn good decision! Zuko witnessed firsthand beneath Ba Sing Se a) how powerful Katara was (e.g. that wave after Aang died) and b) how Katara was the only one who could take on Azula*.
Of course, besides the fact that Katara was the only match for Azula, who else was Zuko going to choose? Sokka and Suki, while talented in their own right, were no competition for Azula. Toph, while the greatest earthbender in the world, was needed to metalbend the airships. Katara was the only (and the best!) option.
Also, on their trip to face Azula, the only thing they talk about within their three lines of canon conversation are Azula and Aang. Not exactly a romantic flight, lmao.
*Zuko never saw Aang fight Azula on the drill.
3. “[Katara] was healing [Zuko] and saying he saved her not the other way around”
Actually, this is what the transcript says:
Zuko: Thank you, Katara.
Katara: I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.
You’re right about how their lines refer to them saving each other, but you posit it as a romantic moment, when the lines are actually pretty straightforward. Zuko thanks Katara as she heals him from the partially-redirected lightning strike, and Katara thanks him for trying to redirect the lightning away from her and in doing so saving her life. In terms of canon, there’s nothing romantic about this, lol! (Which I talked about extensively in the E-L post, if you need to reference it again.) The reason being is that you have to take the show itself into context when you do analysis. If there was no canon romantic buildup between Zuko and Katara, why would these lines in canon (not fanon! fanon is free rein, lmao) be interpreted through a romantic lens?
Well, they wouldn’t be interpreted as such. Plain and simple.
“I genuinely don’t get why this isn’t seen as romantic.”
Because looking through a canon lens, they aren’t romantic. That’s all. You are of course welcome to view them as such through a fanon lens!! It’s just about recognizing the line between canon and fanon.
“I will grant you that Zuko would not have allowed Azula to kill anyone but I feel the point here was Zuko realizing his life was pointless if Katara was killed.”
I asked earlier what content in the show itself led you to believe. I have wracked my own mind, and I cannot think of anything that would point to this conclusion. Zuko was in Katara’s good graces for 5 episodes. That’s 8% of the show. Not exactly a lot of time for Zuko to start believing his life would be pointless if Katara was killed, is it?
This post explains the improbability of Zuko having a crush on Katara within canon.
This post explains how Zuko’s racism towards the Air Nomads in TSR and the finale is, well, exactly that - racism (and not a sign of a crush on Katara).
And, of course, as has been said a million times, Zuko taking the lightning for Katara out of romantic interest would completely undermine his redemption arc. Since it has been said over and over and over, I will be brief: Zuko taking the lightning is significant because it is a selfless act (one of his only in the series), and it directly parallels his selfish act of choosing not to intervene when Azula killed Aang with lightning beneath Ba Sing Se. This moment demonstrates Zuko’s growth, how he has learned to accept unconditional love from Iroh and the Gaang and Mai and even Ty Lee and sure, even from Appa and Momo, too. To make this moment of pure selflessness about a nonexistent romance? To force a fanon romance in replacement of canon redemption and canon platonic significance?
Such a decision speaks wonders about a person’s priorities, in my opinion, as well as how amatonormativity impacts them.
Furthermore, Zuko’s choice cements Katara’s position as his surrogate sibling, as she is Azula’s primary foil. Zuko chooses the sister who heals over the sister who harms. I won’t go too much into it here, because it has already been talked about extensively before! Thus, I offer you this post that explains how Zuko and Katara - in canon - are positioned as surrogate siblings as well as Azula’s role in this matter. I also offer this post that lays out through screencaps how Zuko and Katara - in canon - treat each other like family.
Additional sources about the final Agni Kai:
This post in part discusses fanon misinterpretation of the final Agni Kai and why such a lens is not true to canon relationships.
This post explains why the final Agni Kai is not intended to be romantic.
This post explains how the final Agni Kai is primarily about Azula and how reducing it to be a big Zvtara moment is detrimental to both her and to Zuko and Katara themselves.
“And then literally at the end, Mai shows up after Zuko not talking about her at all for six episodes and declares herself Zuko’s girlfriend.”
This point could probably get a post of its own, lol, but fortunately I and others have already written a few! I will link them below - first, however, I question your choice of “declares.” Technically, yes, Mai does say outright that it doesn’t hurt how the new Fire Lord is her boyfriend, but your phrasing implies Zuko resisted her proclamation. When… he doesn’t. In fact, he embraces it, asking if that means she doesn’t hate him anymore (read: he asks if they’re back on good terms again). Zuko clearly doesn’t have a problem with the girl he loves wanting to be with him again - so why do some parts of fandom so adamantly insist he does? (Not you, anon - I am referring to the rabid fanoners, lol.)
Also, regarding how Zuko hasn’t talked about Mai for six episodes, we’ve gotta be realistic with this assessment in terms of canon:
1. It was the crux of the war. They were either going to live or die. There was no time for romance at this point! Sokka and Suki weren’t professing their love on the battlefield, lmao, so it’s not exactly strange that Zuko didn’t bust into a monologue about how he missed Mai. I think they were just a little bit distracted by the possible end of the world, lol, and all that jazz.
2. Zuko probably thought Mai was dead. He knows what Azula is like. He knows his sister doesn’t have time for people who get in her way (Aang can testify to this, lmao). So can you blame him for not wanting to think about how the girl he loved had died (to his knowledge) to save him?
You gotta cut the kid some slack, lol. Anyways! Additional sources about Maiko:
This post breaks down the notion of Maiko and “deserve.”
This post rationalizes through a canon lens why Mai’s arrival at the palace surprised Zuko.
This post is the mother of Maiko metas, explaining in tremendous detail why their relationships works, is relevant to canon, and was well-implemented for what its role was.
“And Katara kisses Aang after being annoyed with and by him arguably since The Southern Raiders.”
What in canon has led you to the conclusion that Katara was annoyed with Aang? What specific moments from TSR to the finale made you think Katara was annoyed with Aang and remained annoyed with Aang? Are there any, or are you thinking about fanon interpretation? (Canon vs fanon strikes again!)
In TSR, Katara explicitly thanks Aang for understanding her perspective. Nothing there is indicative of annoyance (and as in the links provided earlier, she was not angry at Aang/Zuko/etc. so much as she was at herself. well, she was a little bit angry with Zuko, lmao). In EIP, Katara is understandably angry at Aang’s decision to kiss her, but Aang completely backs off, and we see in the part 1 of the finale that there are no hard feelings or weird tension between them. Katara in fact actively expresses concern for Aang after Zuko sporadically attacked him when she demands of the firebender, “What’s wrong with you? You could have hurt Aang!” Even when Aang and Katara do butt heads later in the episode as Aang tries to think of a way to defeat Ozai without killing him, Katara doesn’t stay frustrated. Like I said - when she and Zuko are flying to Azula, she demonstrates her unwavering faith in Aang through her belief that he will return. So… where is the annoyance that you feel was present?
With all this mind, i.e. looking strictly at canon, Katara wasn’t annoyed with Aang during this time. Thus, Katara kisses Aang because she loved him. Because he backed off and gave her the space she needed to make a decision about if she wanted to be with him (hence Katara being the one to initiate the kiss). Because the issue was never about if she reciprocated his feelings (they both knew they loved each other) but rather it had to do with the war. At the end of the finale, the war is over, and there is nothing that prevents them from being together. Simple.
This post explains how Katara’s feelings for Aang develop throughout the series (and were not neglected, as rabid zkers like to claim, for some reason? again - you are not one of them, anon).
This post also covers Katara’s interest in Aang throughout the series.
“I can’t understand why Kataang shippers are okay with such a crap story.”
I mean, you definitely don’t have to ship Kataang. It may not be your cup of tea, and that’s totally okay! But as the above links demonstrate, Kataang was a fantastic story. It was well-implemented into the narrative from Day 1. The soulmateism is unparalleled!
Also, it’s worth noting that A:TLA itself was essentially pre-written. The writers knew how the story would end from the get-go, including that the show would end with Kataang. A few Zvtara gags were thrown in to add a sense of “who will Katara choose?” drama as the show aired, but Zuko and Katara were never planned to end up together. One reason so many newer fans are fine with Kataang from the start is that there’s no tension of waiting a week for a new episode when you can watch all 61 episodes straight through on Netflix, lmao. It’s even more obvious now than when A:TLA was airing that Aang and Katara will end up together, if that makes sense. (Although I talked about this in the E-L post linked earlier, so you probably understand this point already, as it was explained in detail there!)
All of this is to say that Kataang is not a “crap story” in terms of writing (again, personal taste is a different matter) because it was woven in from the beginning and had powerful narrative significance! (Kataang represented numerous complementary components of the series, such as yin and yang, push and pull, air and water, Oma and Shu, etc.)
Now. If you really and truly want to understand why Kataang shippers like Kataang, anon, consider reading some Kataang fanfics or exploring some Kataang headcanons. I read fics involving Zvtara more regularly than you might think, lol, because… well, it’s just a ship. I understand the appeal of romantic Zvtara and I can actually appreciate it when it’s well-written! I’m sure if you’re willing to put in just a little legwork (you don’t need to go the whole mile, lmao - ‘tis just fandom), you’ll realize why people like Kataang, even if it isn’t exactly your thing. You have the range, anon!! You got this!
I hope I managed to answer your questions, my friend! As always, you do not have to agree with anything I have said here. It is totally fine if you and anyone else disagrees! Everything above is simply my own perspective on the matter. Thank you for taking the time to read my response and all the different links I provided! I hope it has expanded your understanding of the subject at hand!
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yesimwriting · 3 years ago
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Falling Angels: chapter two
A/n took me longer to get around to writing part 2 than i thought!! i didn’t know there was an audience for this idea but im glad you guys liked it!!
Im adding a country to the grishaverse to make my story work,, def not a big deal i just needed a country in which i could control the history of without worrying about conflicting with cannon lol 
Link to part one: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/yesimwriting/652318577650696192 (lmk if this works ive never linked something to a tumblr post lol)
Series Summary: Y/n is a rising star in the most famous circus in Ketterdam because of her ability to see the future. Unfortunately for her, Kaz Brekker knows more of her backstory than he should, and he’s willing to use that to his advantage. The one thing he’s not betting on? That he doesn’t know her entire story
Chapter summary: Y/n gets a visitor before getting tricked into the most dangerous show of her life. 
Pairng: SOC x reader, Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y! Psychic! Reader 
--
My father seemed to love me more after two glasses of something amber. It was after these two glasses that he would tell me realities his inebriated self believed I needed to internalize. He’d pat my head affectionately and smiled at me as he told me that the world was a bad place. Most of his lessons are lost in my mind, but the one I remember most clearly is that there’s no such thing as a kept secret. There’s always a leak or a flaw or a factor you could not account for. He told me that if I wanted to keep a secret, I would have to decide what I was willing to risk for it. 
I know from Seria’s reaction to his presence that listening to Kaz is a risk, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take for my secret. “I don’t know what you think I am, but you’re mistaken.” It doesn’t really matter that he believes me. I have the paperwork I need to disprove him. “I have to get to my tent.” 
“The princess gets her own tent?” His words are saturated by mock casualness but I can feel his pride on how he delivered that line. 
My body is still tense from balancing over flames and his confidence only adds to my desire to unravel. I can’t get angry here. Not at him. Not with the way he grips that cane of his. “I don’t understand what--” 
“You may be able to play pretend here where no one wants to look twice at you, but I know what you are.” His stiffness leaves my skin prickling. “I know who you are.” 
I swallow back my panic. “Then who am I?” 
“You’re that king’s bastard--the one with a high bounty on her head.” Don’t back down. Even the smallest crack will confirm his story. “As long as she’s returned alive.” 
Thoughts of what my father would do to me if ever given the chance strike me with more anxiety than his presence does. “I’ve heard of the girl you’re talking about,” I admit, the lie leaving me as easily as the air leaves my lungs when I exhale. “But I’m not her.” 
“You’re not from Ketterdam, if you were you would have known who I was after you friend referred to me as Dirtyhands.” I have no defense, but I never claimed to be from Ketterdam. “You make your business claiming to be a psychic.” I am a psychic, but now is not the time to make that argument. “Elkosa is a relatively small and self efficient port kingdom, the island is nothing more than a jagged coastline barely larger than Ketterdam, but I have connections in all places.” He knows someone from Elkosa? I have to fight the instinct to move all of my weight on the balls of my feet, prepared to run. “A captain of the royal fleet told me the story of the night the King’s bastard ran into the meeting room the night before ten ships were meant to sail to Ravka.” 
He studies my reaction as I struggle to keep my expression blank. “None of that seems connected.” 
“Patience is a virtue most Saints are familiar with.” I roll my eyes. “The bastard couldn’t have been more than nine at the time, but the guards did not want to let her in. The King told them to let her interrupt. The sailor noted this because he had never made an exception to his meeting before. The girl described a nightmare to her father, a nightmare of a storm and ten dead birds. The king did not comfort her, she finished her story by saying that he asked to know about all of her dreams. She went back upstairs and the King continued the meeting as normal but the next day the King cancelled the trip.”
I remember that night as the night I realized that if I’m not careful, I’ll feel what I see in my visions. It felt like I was drowning. I felt the death of each of those men and instead of comforting me, my father nodded once like I had offered him advice and sent me back to my room. “And?” My defense is weak, my mind too lost in the memories of drowning. “Many smaller countries are superstitious.” 
“The next day the worst storm to have impacted that ocean occurred. For four nights and three days the storm continued.” 
I press my nails into my palms. “You don’t believe that I am precognitive, so that sailor’s unverified story has nothing to do with me.” 
“A princess that can see the future disappears at the same time a failing circus hires a girl who has no business in this city who claims to be able to see the future.” He adjusts his stance, taking pressure off the cane as if he’s preparing to need to use it for something else. “I am not fool enough to believe in coincidence.” 
“And I am not fool enough to crack beneath the vague threats of a man. In my experience, men always threaten with a blade when really all they’re in possession of is a butter knife. Try to drag me from here kicking and screaming, find a way to incapacitate me and put me on a ship to Elkosa, but when the King sees that you brought him a stranger he will have your head.” 
He blinks, expression hard as stone. I tense, preparing for a physical blow. “I didn’t expect you to be a half-decent liar, but I should have.” I bite my tongue to avoid resorting to something I can’t take back. Like begging. “Even if it’s in only half your blood.” 
“I am not her.” My stubbornness burns more than the need to survive. I inhale, hoping to shake the grasp of the sensation but it only worsens. The pinch of dread in my chest is heavy and familiar. A vision. 
No. Not now--not in front of him. I push against it even though I know that only makes it worse. Not now. Not now. I should be grounding myself but all I can think about is how stupid I am and how bad this situation is.
--
“I’m not an idiot, I know to be quiet. I see myself crouched somewhere dark. 
“Being defensive doesn’t make you any more intelligent.” It takes me a minute to recognize Kaz in the darkness. 
We’re somewhere small, our backs against the same wall but our shoulders do not touch. This vision is enshrouded by the feel of panic. 
This other me grimaces, but her eyes lack anger, “Remind me why I agreed to help you again?” 
“You never told me why,” he admits, “you can change your mind on participating and I can change my mind on whether or not you're more useful than your father’s money.”
Something loud crashes from behind the door we’re both staring at. “You’ll have no use for me or my father’s money if we die here.” I squeeze my hands together. 
He hesitates, “My ghost will.” 
The future-me almost smiles. “I wonder if I’ll be able to see ghost futures.” I hesitate, something strange behind my eyes. “I wonder if that can exist, if there’s a future beyond endings.” 
Future-Kaz is silent for a long second. “There should be,” he says, “for someone like you, at least.” 
I watch the way I take in his words. “You’d be there, too,” my voice is low, “your ghost at least.” I turn my head, staring at the door instead of him, “If you weren’t, I’d miss the brooding.” 
--
The vision leaves me with sweaty palms and swirling thoughts. All of my visions do that. Not all of them make me feel so confused. Apparently, he needs help and I agree to do so. At one point we’ll be pushed into a life or death situation and I won’t loathe him. 
I blink twice, forcing myself to hold onto the reality in front of me. I don’t have to agree--the future isn’t set in stone. For all I know tomorrow morning I’ll have a vision in which he kills me. 
“Are you ignoring me?” 
Shaking my head, I turn to face him. “You need help.” I don’t wait for his reaction. “You’re not here to return someone to the King of Elkosa, you’re here because you need someone that can see the future.” 
“I--” 
“It’s not that you won’t take me to Elkosa, it’s that you’d rather use my abilities for something.”
I’m confusing him again, but that’s okay. I’d rather deal with him confused than angry. “I need to know how a certain business deal of mine is going to be worth what it costs.”
He’s spent the entire time claiming he doesn’t believe in my power. Was that some kind of tactic? In the vision I saw, despite the panic surrounding the situation I didn’t feel panicked around him. The probability of that future occurring is probably low. I’ve been wrong before, the future changes too much for me to know everything. 
“That’s not how readings work,” I admit, “I don’t have that much control on them. Most of them come to me randomly. The events I see always involve me or someone I care about to a certain capacity. I can give someone a general glimpse into their future but I can’t promise I’ll see what they want. Sometimes I can see the general vision by just focusing on their energy but usually I need some physical contact for it to work.” That seems like a fair explanation. “Oh--and not all of my predictions come true, most are blurry, few are solid--the future is always moving.” 
Wait...the vision I saw where I was with Kaz wasn’t blurry. Those can be wrong, but it’s much rarer. Do I really agree to this? 
“Then maybe I should make it involve you.” His aggression has me forcing myself to stand my ground. He can threaten me all he wants but that won’t change things. “Or take the money your father would give me and cut my losses.” 
Every time I’ve purposefully destroyed a solid vision, something bad has happened. I’m genuinely considering it. “What do you need a psychic for, anyways?” 
“To get through the Fold.” 
Despite everything, I laugh. “I’ve never seen anyone get through the Fold, literally or in my visions.” 
He’s unphased by my doubt. “It’s happened.” 
I really don’t want to help him. “Well then good luck, I’m happy to part ways here.” 
I manage one step forward before he moves his cane in front of my path. I’m getting tired of this. “You’re assisting me one way or the other, whether that aid will be financial or through your services is up to you.” 
Anger pinches in my stomach the way it often does when I’m told what to do. The one thing centering me is the vision still reflecting in my thoughts. There’s no denying it--I had felt comfortable with him. There is a future in which I feel comfortable with him and I’m not sure I’ll be able to avoid it. 
“I won’t get in trouble for you,” I tell him, “The Ringmaster holds onto those indentured to him, especially the commodities that bring him profit.” 
There’s something stiff about his silence. I wonder if he’s always like this, pushing the weight of his presence onto those around him without saying a word. “When I have a goal, it is achieved. I’ll speak to him.” 
I cannot imagine a conversation I want to be involved in less. The Ringmaster and this man that Seria had labeled ‘Dirtyhands’. “I just had a vision--I saw your entire conversation and it ends with you missing an arm.” His stoic expression does not shift. “Okay, I’m aware that it wasn’t the funniest joke, but throw me a bone--you threatened to kidnap me and sell me to my father in order to extort me and I’ve been nothing but polite to you.” 
He’s quiet for a moment, something in his expression changing in a way I can’t read. “All you’ve done is lie since the moment you started to speak to me.” 
The optimist in me would like to think that his annoyance counts for banter. I shrug, feeling a little lighter than I did a second ago. I’m certainly not comfortable but I’m starting to see how to put up with the tension without letting it strain me. “Well, polite for my standards.” 
I let him brood. “You must have done well as a royal.” 
My past cuts through the peace I managed to grab onto. It’s not his fault, he has no way of knowing what the castle was like for me. I open my mouth, but I don’t know what I’m going to say. “I had my moments,” I finally settle on, hoping the echo of pain isn’t visible behind my eyes. 
I guess it doesn’t matter if he sees me bleed. He’s heartless, and I hate sympathy. 
“Y/n,” Seria’s voice is genuine anger, “You’ve turned into an idiot--first the tightrope walk and now entertaining whatever deal he’s trying to coax from you.” I love Seria, she’s the reason I didn’t die in the street when I first arrived in Ketterdam, but she sees me as a mindless child. “Whatever he told you, whatever he promised you--it’s a lie.” 
“He hasn’t promised me anything.” I need to calm her down. Once she’s calm, everything will be normal again. “And he knows.” I don’t have to turn to feel the way Seria gapes at me. “He knows who I am, so I have to do what he wants.” 
“You never have to do anything a man is forcing onto you, y/n. We’ll find a way--” 
“Seria, it’s fine,” I reach to touch her arm, “I’ll be fine, you can’t protect me from everything and you don’t have to.” 
Kaz throws a pointed glare at the man who was with him earlier. When did the stranger get here? “Boss, she’s faster than she looked, but I have what we need to get the girl--” 
“You’re late,” Kaz sighs, bored, “she’s agreed.” 
Wait--what was he going to do if I didn’t agree? “Out of curiosity, what are you talking about?” The man blinks twice, squeezing a rag between his ring-clad fingers. “You were going to use chloroform to kidnap me, weren’t you?” 
For some reason I don’t understand, the stranger gives me a look that’s a cross between sheepish and charming. “Nothing personal.” 
“Or original.” 
Seria pinches my arm. “Y/n,” she scolds, “your sense of humor is going to kill me one of these days.” 
I cringe, pulling my arm away. “When I met you, you were pickpocketing in the pleasure district, please remember that.” 
She rolls her eyes. “An attitude like that is going to leave you without a place to sleep at night.” 
I take her comment for the empty threat it is. Every other day she’s threatening to kick me out of her private trailer so that I’m forced to fight for cots or speak to the Ringmaster about my lodging arrangements. He’d give me what I want, but speaking to him feels so slimy I’d sleep in the woods before trying it. 
“Kaz.” I turn my head in time to see the girl that gave me the advice about the tightrope walker. “We need to go, he’s coming soon--you’ll do better to speak to him in the morning after she’s gone, that way he has nothing to hold over your head.” 
“Once I’m gone?” The girl had called me a Saint. I can appeal to her. “I’m not--I’m not going anywhere, I said I’d help.” 
Her eyes widen, sympathy reflected clearly in her dark irises. “There was never a version of this in which you ended up staying here.” I hear a hint of apology in her voice. “You won’t believe me, but I promise this will be better for you.” All of her pity is gone with those, replaced by something hard.
Seria responds for me, “I think you should go.” 
“What?” 
She almost smiles, but her eyes are painfully sad. “I never wanted you to be here forever. I don’t trust these people, but I trust their ability to get you out of here, even if only for a little while. Bad things are coming, and I think you’ll miss the worst of it if you go now.” 
What she alludes to is a blade in my heart. “You want me to leave you here to deal with it?” 
“Y/n, I’ve been hurt here more times than I can count--”
“No, I won’t leave y--” 
Seria squeezes my shoulder, “It’s not forever.” When she wants something, it’s almost impossible to get around it. “Besides, if I need you, you’ll see it.” 
My world feels to have lost the vibrance of color. I’ve left so much, but I let myself believe I wouldn’t leave her. I pull her into the hug. “The moment I see a vision of you in any type of danger, I’m coming back.” I hug her even tighter when she tries to pull away so that I can whisper something in her ear, “I’ll use this opportunity to leave the Ringmaster and then I’ll get you out, and together we’ll leave Ketterdam. We’ll find your child, like you always wanted to and they’ll know that they're lucky because they’re the only kid in the world to have you as a mother.” 
She squeezes me so tightly I find it hard to take full breaths. “Two,” Seria whispers, “I have two children.”
My eyes burn as her words find their way into my heart. “I love you, Seria.” 
“I love you too, my star,” she pulls away enough so that I can look her in the eye, “you don’t like being called a Saint, but I can’t think of anyone more deserving of the title.” 
Tears prick my eyes as she releases me. “I’ll find you.” 
“He’ll be coming soon,” the girl warns, “He spoke to an advisor about wanting to find you after the show.” 
No doubt to praise the fire stunt he forced onto me. Bastard. I nod once but I don’t move. I can’t bring myself to leave Seria until the girl places a hand on my elbow. 
--
Falling Angels Taglist: @glowstick-lesbian @cashlum @whatiswrongwithpeople @pass-me-jeez-it @thecraziestcrayon
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sakkac · 4 years ago
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re: fumetsu no anata e as of chapter 139.2
this started as a response to @bestbonnist​‘s post on chapter 139.2 but now i’m just dissecting differences and similarities between tonari, mizuha, and kahak like im writing an essay for a uni class. i interchangeably use he/they pronouns for fushi and my writing may be clumsy (bc im not actually writing for uni ❤️).
mizuha is a broken mirror to tonari (and kahak a foil to the two aforementioned) in this modern-day arc, especially in their expressions of love for fushi. tonari’s love for fushi is aged over hundreds of years and mizuha’s, at first glance, is an infatuation just based on how long they’ve known each other. im the biggest kahak stan ever, but even i understand kahak’s love started as an infatuation for parona’s form. though, i’d consider the word infatuation compromised when it comes to defining mizuha’s love, bc u cant be sure if her love for fushi is entirely her own, seeing as it had been passed from generation to generation of guardians.
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(chapter 134, read right to left)
tonari and mizuha aren’t that different once you look deeply into the both of them. mizuha’s personality and actions are factors in tonari’s dislike of her, but what ultimately repels tonari from mizuha is that she knows they’re similar, and that manifests most clearly in how she reacts to fushi being with mizuha. i.e. resenting fushi for using her friends’ vessels to help their “love life” in chapter 135.5. she can’t stand mizuha bc mizuha is able to express her love for fushi and fushi does not reject (or accept) it; tonari still hasn’t fully admitted to herself that she likes fushi romantically (perhaps because she can’t separate it from the devotion that led her to harden her body to poisons and to promise her corpse to rest at fushi’s feet), so seeing mizuha appear to progress further than she has irritates her. as for kahak, tonari only has the biases of the other pseudo-immortals and her own of past hayase reincarnations to rely on. (this is not as plot-related, but these two also both like books. kahak read tonari’s fushi book, so i wish they actually met, but in a world where tonari didnt hate hayase beyond death.)
tonari as a child seemed like she thought herself superior to others, perhaps a natural result of her upbringing. she was raised on a prison island, but she herself never committed any crime; banding together w other kids like her, writing about her life in her book (which keeps her separate from or above others in a way). but this thinking ceases at her relationship w fushi. however, i believe this started before they even met. tonari’s childhood dream at seven years old was to write a book her father would be impressed by. she also used to believe in god, while her family was still whole. she even prayed to god when he decided to participate in the tournament in chapter 35. however, she stops referring to god by the time her father had shown tarnish. coincidentally, she meets fushi, who would “upend everything... jeannanda and [her] fate.” she ends up, instead of writing for her father, writing a book to allow a peaceful existence for fushi for whenever they decided to come back. this act shows that the adult tonari has written fushi to a level above her, out of her reach. 
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(chapter 35)
here i’ll quote ray’s words about kahak and tonari: “she also has a surprising amount in common with Kahaku, too, with the ‘I want to protect you even if you disagree.’” the way tonari had waited and honed her body for fushi resembles kahak’s attachment; she had finished living for herself, so now she was only allowing herself to live to further create an ideal vessel for fushi (which also brings up one of hayase’s goals). the difference is that kahak lived for fushi because, as raikkousaki said, fushi was the only thing he was “ALLOWED to live for.” however, while tonari is unquestionably devoted to fushi now, what pulled her to him was black hood’s coercion. as a result of black hood’s words to her, she manipulated fushi into helping her solve her problems, to save her from the island. this first “meeting” also revealed that she was attracted to their white hair; she later admits that she admires their fair skin, contributing to the idea that she could view fushi as the equivalent of a god or at the least, a vision of purity (which is :/ imo, bc of her dark skin). we should also keep in mind that, this, technically her first impression of fushi, and his later display of violent immortality in the arena would further his image as a “legend.” 
mizuha was exposed to fushi’s immortality and reveres him like tonari and kahak respectively do and did. instead of the specific word “legend,” it’s “immortal monster.” her first formal exposure to fushi’s fabled power was not unlike tonari’s, since mizuha had went into her grandfather’s library and read on fushi in chapter 124.1. after this, she manipulates fushi to save her, again paralleling the beginning of tonari’s relationship with fushi, but it’s from her overbearing mother and herself. both tonari and mizuha forced their problems onto fushi, but mizuha doesn’t have black hood stepping in front of her saying “you must lead him.” instead, she may have been influenced by the left hand, but i believe mizuha’s thoughts are majorly her own (left hand lies in wait within mizuha’s consciousness like a predator), and what they appear to say is that she’s leading fushi until he decides to follow her willingly. as for kahak, we only have a few pages on his childhood and what we can make of it and of his actions as an adult is that he was willing to follow fushi wherever they went, until left hand betrayed them both.
mizuha’s superiority complex comes from a different place than young tonari’s; she was a prestigious child from young, in addition to her fear of her uniqueness fading as she aged. this caused her to feel separate from other children. when she meets fushi, she sees how different he is from everyone else and uses subtle ways to keep him with her, while never directly admitting she wants him to stay with her, except for ch 125′s “i’m scared. stay with me tonight,” after her mother’s sudden murder. she usually uses excuses instead, like cutely demanding fushi to walk with her after school and go on dates with her.
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(chapter 36 vs. chapter 128.2)
as fushi was introduced to the people around tonari and mizuha, they received similar reactions, i.e. “your hair is so pretty!” and “woah, his hair is white!” in the pages following these, the similarities continue into tonari and mizuha gaining ownership over fushi: in ch 36 oopa declares “tonari found him. so he belongs to tonari,” while the islanders try to get on fushi’s good side, and in ch 128 fushi goes out of their way to ask which club mizuha belongs to when asked to join a club (vocalizing her claim on them so she doesn’t have to directly do so).
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(chapters 38, 106, and 139)
when the opening comes for mizuha to actually admit her feelings in chapter 139, she tries, but demands instead, “so... love me.” this recalls kahak’s confession to kai in 105.3, that he wants to “protect fushi’s humanity.” kahak and mizuha were both covered in blood when they spoke, but the atmospheres and characters are different; mizuha is clever w her words, but still too immature to let go of her pride, whereas kahak was the exact opposite. he rid of himself of his pride for fushi when he was a child, but said a lot of the wrong things to fushi when it came down to it. additionally, mizuha, when she wants something, she’ll phrase her words so that it seems like there’s only one choice: to follow her. this has been the case for others including fushi (chapters 120.2′s testing of hanna with “if i died, would you cry for me?” and 132.1′s “i’ll teach you about love” and the following guilt-trip). tonari is more direct with her words and meaning than either mizuha or kahak, bc of her personality. she directly confronts fushi when she realizes he had felt betrayed by her in chapter 38, because she still needed him for his plans. but mizuha is more direct with her actions; in chapter 129.1, she latches herself onto fushi, while trying to get information out of him. after the failed marriage proposal, rather than physically attaching himself to fushi like mizuha, kahak used acts of domesticity and protection to subtly appeal to and maintain his space next to them.
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(chapter 38 vs chapter 139)
tonari’s “there are people in this world who are better off dead” above isn’t far from the knockers’ reasoning behind “wishing for death is paramount to being dead” and the reason for mizuha’s mother’s death: left hand decided to “eliminate the cause of [mizuha’s breaking point’s] stress.” what this shows is that tonari can also justify murder, though granted, this is from a hundred chapters ago. however, this black and white thinking comes back in the modern era where tonari holds prejudice against mizuha because of her relation to hayase. tonari knows her dislike of mizuha is unfair, she can’t get around it. tonari is still as prideful as she was when she lived on jeannanda; it’s just that she is able to use fushi to justify her opinions now. i also want to bring up mizuha’s reaction to her mother’s death and funa’s knocker’s “purging and guidance.” mizuha seems comfortable with the sight of death, despite having a more normal childhood than tonari, because her actual main concern overwhelms it; she is always thinking on how she can appeal to fushi (almost like kahak), or in other words, how to salvage her pride. so instead of being concerned over being the actual murderer, she is concerned with appearing as a murderer to fushi.
so to actually answer ray’s question, objectively, tonari’s love is as excessive as kahak and mizuha’s. but personally, i think tonari’s love for fushi right now is also unhealthy, though it comes out of good will. kahak’s love also ended in fushi’s benefit, but it was undoubtedly unhealthy. and ofc, mizuha’s love is also unhealthy; she reaches for fushi for perfection, tonari reaches for fushi for humility.
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murder-raven13 · 4 years ago
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My Haikyuu Ships pt. 3
A/N: Part 3 because I am a hoe that procrastinates
Warning(s): cursing, not proofread, this has again become kind of relationship hcs, loooooooooooooooooooog, I added another ship because my memory sucks
Word Count: 3,401
Part 1 Part 2
Tanaka x Ennoshita
So, Ennoshita is calm and collected but also very insecure. Doesn’t trust in his own skill or ability to lead nor the relationships he’s built with the team. Tanaka, on the other hand, is loud and confident and dedicated. He also refuses to let people talk bad about themselves or let other people talk bad about the people he cares about. This really helps with Ennoshita’s insecurity because Tanaka is brutally honest and Ennoshita knows that, so he believes Tanaka. And Ennoshita can keep Tanaka in line and on track. Tanaka is the type that’s only truly dedicated to the things he cares about, so other things tend to fall behind. School is one of the things that gets left behind. But Ennoshita is there to keep Tanaka on track, making sure that he’s doing what he has to to ensure that he can continue participating in his passions. They’re both really good together, covering the other’s weaknesses with ease and letting themselves lean on the other when they need it. Very sweet boys with a very soft, fun relationship. 
Yachi x Kiyoko
Okay, Kiyoko is a bit of an outsider and she’s not good at expressing herself. But she is sure of herself. She knows her capabilities and has confidence in her looks and, after a while, in her relationships with those close to her. But she’s never had a relationship with a female that she’s been sure of. Then Yachi comes along, basically worshipping the ground Kiyoko walks on, and completely anxious about literally everything. Yachi is a big ball of stress and love, and she turns to Kiyoko first, for everything. She believes in Kiyoko, knows that Kiyoko will always fit with her, doesn’t mind that Kiyoko has flaws because Kiyoko is perfect to Yachi. And Kiyoko helps Yachi build her confidence. They’re a very domestic couple, I feel. The kind that would be able to just sit in silence while they did their homework or just watch TV together every night. Kiyoko makes sure that Yachi doesn’t overwork or overstress herself by giving her massages and calming baths. Yachi makes sure that Kiyoko is happy and sure of their relationship, completely free with her emotions and her words whenever they’re together, by ensuring that Kiyoko knows Yachi is there, always, the peaceful shadow in Kiyoko’s life. They’re just neat together. 
Yachi x Ushijima
Ushijima is a very simple man and very devoted man. His partner’s needs and feelings are a priority to him, even though he may struggle to pick up on body language. He’s big and strong, but very gentle, astoundingly so for someone so brutal on the court. Yachi is pretty much the opposite. She’s tiny and unsure and anxious. And Ushijima terrifies her at first. He’s giant and strong and stoic. This boy does not look welcoming, especially to someone as tiny and panicky as Yachi. So, it takes a while. Ushijima doesn’t think much of her at first because she doesn’t seem like much but he sees her struggling with a near panic attack after she gets separated from the team one day and he just really can’t stop himself from wanting to protect this tiny human. He becomes a kind of balm, a protector that makes Yachi feel safe because, no matter how scary the world it, Ushijima is there to keep the brunt of it away. And Yachi serves as a constant reminder of Ushijima’s strength, a reminder that he’s needed, loved, for all the qualities about himself that he’s spent his entire life strengthening. 
Atsumu x Hinata
Can I just say disaster? [that’s gonna describe quite of few of the remaining ships tbh] They’re a disaster but, like, a good disaster. Atsumu and Hinata have the same zeal for volleyball and Atsumu fell in the love the first time they played a game against each other. Hinata took a little longer to fall. Together, though, they’re good. They have a place to channel all their chaotic energy. They mess with each other a lot, perpetual state of war via prank. Sometimes, much to the chagrin of those that know them, they keep score of who can prank the most other people. But most of the times it’s kept between themselves. This is a very fun couple. The kind that goes on spontaneous beach trips at 2 in the morning and plays until they can’t physically move. So in love with each other they sometimes forget other people exist. They’re both absolutely blinding, all radiance and sunshine, burning with so much passion that other’s have struggled all their lives to deal with them. They get lost in each other, reverent and worshipping and all to pleasantly blinded by the other.
Atsumu x Sakusa
Sakusa is mean, a meanie. He’s so mean to Atsumu. Most of Atsumu’s time is spent just pouting at Sakusa until Sakusa has to desperately try and hide the blush on his face. That pout is his favorite of Atsumu’s expressions and Atsumu has a lot of them. Sakusa hates being the in public eye but that’s unavoidable with his career. But Atsumu, glorious, blinding Atsumu is there to keep the crowds and the germs and all of it focused on him. He keeps the world away from Sakusa when Sakusa can’t deal with it. He’s always, always making sure Sakusa is comfortable and clean and happy. And Sakusa is the motivation Atsumu needs to truly take care of himself. Atsumu gets so focused on volleyball and being the best that he forgets some things, like resting and self-care and showering, all things that Sakusa is religious about. They make such a good couple because Sakusa needs Atsumu to be the light and Atsumu needs Sakusa to be his guiding hand. 
Osamu x Suna
Chill babies. Osamu and Suna are both so chill, or at least they both seem that way. Osamu’s chill is kind of fake. It’s not that he’s not chill, it’s just that he’s surrounded by things that push his chill into a little corner and beat it up. And by “things” I mean Atsumu. Osamu loves his twin, no doubt, but his twin is also the most exhausting person alive a majority of the time. They’re constantly in competition. They have the same face and yet Osamu is constantly preferred less by fans besides the fact that he swore he would be more likable than Atsumu because he didn’t want to be alone like Atsumu. So, the team and those that know Atsumu all prefer Osamu, but everyone else doesn’t. In comes Suna, who captures everything on his phone, and I mean everything. Every fight, every argument, every moment, everything. This lets Osamu look back at how he and Atsumu interact and realize how tired he is of it all. And Suna is more than willing to just lay there, doing nothing, when Osamu needs somewhere quiet to be. Suna is Osamu’s refuge from Atsumu, whose passion and attitude make him too much sometimes. And Osamu lets Suna chill. He doesn’t expect emotion or passion or anything chaotic from Suna, he just wants Suna to be Suna, a lazy little shit that likes to cause trouble whenever it’s easy to do so. Osamu, to Suna, is a partner, someone that knows him and accepts his limits, respects how he is a person. 
Osamu x Hinata
Okay, Hinata is really just like a nicer, more likable version of Atsumu’s energy. Osamu would be one of very few able to keep up with Hinata’s energy in a relationship without getting swallowed up in it. Osamu would be so supportive of Hinata’s volleyball career, would undoubtedly practice when Hinata begged him. He doesn’t mind, he misses the game. But Hinata never tries to pull him back into volleyball, he understands what Osamu is passionate about and supports the fuck out of it. Loves Osamu’s food, constantly bragging about it. Osamu can go nowhere with Hinata without turning bright red at some point. Also constantly bringing people to Osamu’s restaurant. The team won a game? Onigiri Miya. Someone got engaged? Onigiri Miya. Man has no shame. And Hinata’s so cute and famous that this really does bring a bunch of people to the restaurant [Osamu is salty about it and so is Atsumu]. 
Ushijima x Hinata
So, I’m a whore to enemies to lovers and I’m a whore for height differences; what you gonna do about it? Nothing because nothing can be done. Hinata has similar energy to Tendou, except Hinata is much nicer than Tendou and a different kind of chaotic. Hinata is unfiltered passion and confidence. Ushijima is concentrated passion and confidence. The two of them together are constantly challenging each other because Hinata never stops striving to be the best, a trait Ushijima greatly admires. And Hinata is always so impressed with Ushijima’s skill and power and size, loves that he’s found another volleyball idiot to be with. Hinata drags Ushijima into life experiences and Ushijima brings Hinata home whenever he’s drifting too far. They’re a very strange couple to others because their energy is so different. Definitely the couple whose house is more plant and volleyball stuff than anything else. Hinata will definitely tuck himself into Ushijima’s side until he’s almost completely hidden, may have once gotten into Ushijima’s hoodie with him, because he’s a little shit and Ushijima cannot say no to him [and he doesn’t really mind have Hinata so close].
Yachi x Oikawa
Oikawa is used to girls fawning over him. But Yachi is too shy to do so. Literally will not admit she finds him pretty. She just kind of ignores him, which pisses Oikawa off because this small, adorable girl won’t even spare him a glance and that’s never fucking happened before. Honestly starts pursuing Yachi because she didn’t seem interested at first. The first time she calls him pretty, he blushes, which was not a reaction he was expecting from himself. Realized he liked this cute ball of nerves more than he was originally supposed to. Yachi helps Oikawa realize he doesn’t need to be fake all the time, that not everyone has to life him, because he has the people who matter. And Oikawa helps Yachi become more confident, more sure of herself, more comfortable with defending her ground [she has to in order to deal with his damn fangirls]. Oikawa is a clingy ass person, but he understands that that makes Yachi a little uncomfortable in public, so he cuts back on the PDA, until there is a guy talking to Yachi, then he’s all hands on deck. Will definitely save Yachi from stressful situations. Loves that Yachi brings him lunch every day. 
Suga x Ushijima
Suga hates him at first. It’s so funny. Because Ushijima is just captivated because Suga is pretty and kind and caring and so observant, if not the greatest setter. He’s got a bond of trust with his teammates that Ushijima admires a lot. And Suga is willing to do whatever it takes to win, even if that means he has to step into the background. But Suga hates him because he thinks Ushijima is perfect. It’s not true hate, just irritation. But it’s enough to keep Suga away. And then Suga starts realizing all the ways Ushijima is far from perfect. He’s stoic and bad at talking and communicating and all together a disaster at social interaction because he’s so brutally honest without thought. And Suga starts to like him, how could he not. This man is a mess and handsome and Suga’s a little whipped. It’s Tendou that gets them together because Tendou notices that Suga’s feelings have changed and knows that Ushijima’s crush has not. So, he sticks them together and, true to character, Ushijima confesses without much thought [despite the fact that he blushes]. Together, they’re a very mature couple and I do not mean that Suga gets any less meddlesome. I just mean that they’re relationship is very domestic, very stable. Their relationship is a constant, a comfort, something to always come home to. And Suga has his school students and Ushijima has his volleyball career and then they have each other. Works very well. 
Bokuto x Hinata
Bright disaster bois. Can I just say good luck to their friends. These two are constantly feeding off each other’s energy. Hinata hypes Bokuto up and Bokuto pulls Hinata forward. All the time, constant movement with these two. They’re almost never home. Either at the gym practicing, out getting ice cream, at an amusement part, or trying to get themselves lost. They’re impossible to keep up with, but so fun to watch. They’re such a happy couple, always smiling, always laughing, always with a new story to tell. Little explorers. But always together. People can see it, too, how utterly bright the two of them get together. It’s actually ridiculous, Kageyama hates them [he thinks they’re cute but he would literally rather die than admit it]. 
Tanaka x Yamamoto
Chaos personified in a relationship. They’re both threatening appearance wise so whenever they go out together, they’re absolutely avoided by everyone. But they’re so nice all the time. Constantly giving out compliments, definitely the couple that will talk about attractive people they see on the street together. Also definitely the couple that is constantly hyping each other up, in everything they do, even like brushing their teeth. They’re stupid. Always having fun together. 
Matsukawa x Hanamaki
These two both have resting facial expressions that aren’t actually indicative of what they’re feeling. This, on top of their personalities, means that these two are the ultimate pranksters. They can keep a poker face like nobody’s business. Absolutely impossible to read. And, unlike some of the other prankster couples, these two do not prank each other often. No, no, no. They team up on other people. Like demons. No one is safe. If you are around, you are a potential target. And they love it. It makes them laugh and its something they can unfailingly do with the other. It’s a bonding thing for them, would definitely make pranking people a date. Other than that, though, they play a lot of video games together. Plus, the lack of emotional expression of the other’s face has never thrown either of them off because they rely on body language and other cues because they themselves understand that the face isn’t always reliable. Very understanding and super in tune with each other. 
Aran x Kita
So, y’all remember when Aran got onto Kita for questioning if it was okay or normal for him to feel happy? That was the Moment. Aran lives in Japan, but he is black and his name is foreign. Because of this, he’s been an oddity his entire life. That doesn’t mean that people don’t like him or that they make fun of him for it, in fact, plenty of people react like the Miya twins. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s an oddity and that people react to it. Kita is also an oddity, not because of his name or his ethnicity, but because of his personality. He doesn’t act like a child and is super dedicated to a strict routine that includes keeping everything religiously clean. Not a lot of kids are like that. And Kita himself has said that he thinks more like an adult than a child, he’s aware of the fact that he’s not like his peers. This helps connect the two of them. They don’t react to each other for what makes them odd, they’re simply friends. Kita has never thought much of Aran’s name or the fact that he’s black and Aran doesn’t mind that Kita doesn’t exactly act like a child. They trust each other, they rely on each other. And they found their common ground at first in the fact that they’re both different in some way.  
Takeda x Ukai
I have shipped these two from the very first conversation I saw them have. Ukai was irritated by Takeda, but admired and acknowledged his unwavering persistence. And Takeda went full creep and learned everything he could about Ukai so that he could manipulate him into coaching the team. Like, this meanie does not give up. And Ukai both hates and loves this trait. Because this adorable teacher should not be able to make people bend to his will like this, dammit. And Takeda is adorable, Ukai knows [he pretends he doesn’t]. Takeda knows that Ukai is a big softie despite his appearance, that he cares a lot more than he lets on, and that he is, legit, a concerned parent half the time [what other kind of person gets onto children all the time to make sure they’re eating properly?]. He also knows that Ukai is smart and dedicated and cares a great deal about his family. So, once Takeda had his sights set on Ukai as a partner, Ukai really couldn’t [and didn’t want to] say no. They become Parents, no questions asked, but not like real parents, like the uncles the kids are always left with. [Ukai thinks he’s smooth-he is not, Takeda finds this adorable and won’t say anything about it].
Tsukishima x Yamaguchi
The only reason this ship made it to the third part is because I wanted a childhood friends to lovers in every part. It really is law. Please, Tsukki is such a grumpy baby and Yamaguchi is such a stressed out puppy. Tsukki is soft for this man and this man alone. Literally cannot actually be mean to him. Yamaguchi knows it to [whenever Tsukki tells him to shut up, Yamaguchi knows that it’s for one of two reasons: Tsukki is flustered or Yamaguchi is doing something Tsukki finds cute and is flustered]. Yamaguchi is a walking protector, will snap at people for attacking Tsukki even if he himself is terrified. And Tsukki has unwavering confidence in Yamaguchi’s abilities. They know each other. Yamaguchi knows that Tsukki is a big softies, that he’s insecure sometimes, that he loves anything strawberry flavored and anything to do with dinosaurs. He knows and he loves Tsukki for it all. And Tsukki knows that Yamaguchi is insecure and quiet and doubtful, but he also knows that Yamaguchi is dedicated and kind and everything he never thought he would find in another person. Yamaguchi is where Tsukki goes to feel safe being himself. And Tsukki is where Yamaguchi goes to feel secure. They’re safe together. 
Nishinoya x Yaku
Honestly, they’re both gremlin smols and I love them. They constantly learn from each other and push each other to be their best. Yaku is a team mom and Noya is team problem child. So, they work pretty well together. Noya gets Yaku to loosen up a bit and Yaku gets Noya to calm the fuck down. Noya lowkey makes him nervous sometimes but thats because Yaku is scared of his own feelings. Like, how can he like this wild mess so much? Please explain it to him, he would like to know. But he does love Noya, a whole damn lot, and he’s not doing anything to change it. 
Kyotani x Yahaba
I cannot believe I forgot to add their part. I’m mad at myself. Kyotani is a big scared asshole. He doesn’t want to let people close to him, he wants to be the best, and he definitely doesn’t want others to know enough about him to see him as anything but strong. So, being vulnerable isn’t his strong suit and he doesn’t let people in. His respect is hard earned, his affection even more so. But Yahaba is a pretty boy with a very strong center. He refuses to take any shit from any one. But he doesn’t act that way unless he needs to. And Kyotani needs him to act like that. And once he does, it gets much harder for Kyotani to believe that Yahaba is just a pretty boy. Yahaba can and will put Kyotani in his place. And Kyotani is constantly pushing Yahaba’s buttons, forcing him to reveal bit by bit how strong is personality actually is, how much he wants to be the best as well. Best bois. Mad dog and mad dog trainer. I love them. Probably my favorite Haikyuu ship, out of the 50 million I have.  
This is the last part, yay!!!
I have too many ships, some pls help me.
This post legit won’t save half of the tags. I’ve typed them twice and it won’t keep them on the damn post. So, I had to go with just one or two tags for each to make sure each ship was in the tags. 
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warrioreowynofrohan · 4 years ago
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Vice and Virtue in Tolkien’s Works
I’ve been rereading Dante’s Purgatorio (easily my favourite of the three sections, both for having a very satisfying structure and for its themes of repentance and reform), and the structure inspired this post. Each level of purgatory has images, words, or both, associated with the vice being reformed and its corresponding virtue (the examples being drawn both from the Bible and Greco-Roman history and mythology) and it gave me ideas for a discussion of similar themes in Tolkien’s works.
The structure is: 1) Pride/Humility; 2) Envy/Generosity of Spirit; 3) Wrath/Charity; 4) Sloth/Zeal); 5) Avarice/Simplicity; 6) Gluttony/Abstinence; 7) Lust/Romantic Love.
1) Pride/Humility
Saruman: Our time is at hand: the world of Men, which we must rule. But we must have power, power to order all things as we will, for that good which only the Wise can see.
Frodo: I will take the Ring, though I do not know the way.
This is easily the primary emphasis in Tolkien’s works. The fall of all his main villains (Morgoth, Sauron, Fëanor, the Númenoreans, Saruman) and as well as other non-villainous tragic characters (Túrin, Thingol, Turgon, Thorin, Denethor) is characterized by pride - the desire to be the one calling the shots, the desire for greatness and others’ recognition of that greatness, the refusal to listen to the advice or views of others.
It’s there in Melkor’s desire for his theme to be the only one heard in the Music; in Sauron’s desire to rule the world and arrange everything as he thinks best; in Fëanor’s determination to take any advice, correction, or disagreement as a personal attack, his desire for rulership in Middle-earth, and his attitude that the Silmarils are more important than anything anyone else has done or created; the late-stage Númenoreans’ campaign of imperialist conquest. It’s there in Túrin’s, Thingol’s, and Turgon’s rejection of good advice; in Thingol’s attitude towards other peoples, whether it’s Beren or the dwarves; in Denethor’s conviction that Gondor is the only place and people of any account in the war against Sauron.
Humility, in contrast, is mainly seen in the form of hobbits. None of them have any idea what they’re doing when they leave Rivendell (Sam and Pippin don’t even know where Mordor is), and they know they’ve got no idea. They’re not going because they see themselves as specially skilled or qualified, but because it needs to be done. And that’s the very reason Frodo can resist the Ring so long, and Sam can resist it, because they don’t have any grand ideas of themselves.
The ability to say I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’ll try to do what’s right is pretty crucial to humility; even members of the Fellowship who are far more experienced, skilled and knowledgeable than the hobbits show it. Aragorn says it, in the search for Merry and Pippin when they’re captured by orcs. Pride could easily say I need to go with the Ring-bearer, that’s the most important task or I need to go to Gondor and lead the war against Sauron as their King. But Aragorn lets himself trust in other people doing their parts, and focuses on rescuing his companions - the thing that no one else is a available to do - even as the chase seems increasingly hopeless. It’s also seen in Gandalf, who openly admitted he was scared to go when the Valar first sent him, and wandered around as an old man in a battered cloak and hat, talking with everyone, rather than setting himself up as a Respectable Dignified Authority Figure the way Saruman did.
The Silmarillion has fewer examples of humility than LOTR (perhaps why things turn out so much worse there) but there are a few in the Leithian. Lúthien is another case of saying I don’t know what I’m doing, but I’ll do it because no one else will when she sets off to rescue Beren. Finrod walks away from his crown and realm to help a friend.
2) Envy/Generosity of Spirit
Denethor: I will not step down to be the dotatd chamberlain of an upstart.
Faramir: My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?
Envy is akin to pride, but I’m characterizing it as being specifically the resentment of being surpassed (or even equalled) by another.
Fëanor is again a major example of this, specifically in his resentment of Fingolfin and of the descendents of Indis more generally. Peoples of Middle-earth notes that he resented the name Nolofinwë (Fingolfin’s Quenya name, roughly means ‘wise-Finwë or ‘learned-Finwë’) due to regarding himself as not only the most skilled of the Noldor at craftwork (which he was), but also the most skilled at lore/scholarship (which he wasn’t), and likewise resented the name Arafinwë (Finarfin’s Quenya name). He’s in a mental place of resenting anything positive that can be said about his brothers as if it inherently detracts from him. And he takes the same attitude towards Men (‘No other race shall oust us!’), treating their very existence as a threat to the Eldar. Losgar is the peak of this: he’s willing to sabotage his own war effort to prevent Fingolfin from participating. This is contasted with Maedhros’ attitude after being rescued by Fingon, when he willingly gives up the crown and, later, moves across Beleriand to the most exposed section of the northern border to avoid conflict. His own status isn’t his priority; peace with his family and the best interests of the war against Morgoth are his priorities.
Denethor is another major example, seeing both Aragorn’s return and Faramir’s respect for Gandalf as personal affronts to himself. (Gandalf points out that the literal job description of a steward is to be in charge until the king returns. When the king comes back, that means you’ve done your job, not that you’re being demoted. Denethor is not interested in hearing this.) He’s also mentioned in the Appendices to have resented the respect and admiration recieved by Thorongil [i.e. Aragorn in disguise] during the days of their youth. In very similar ways, Saruman resented the high regard that some (like Galadriel) had for Gandalf, and saw Gandalf as a rival. Thorongil and Gandalf were not interested in rivalry; they were more interested in what was achieved than in who was achieving it. Faramir is the contrast here - he is interested in the good of Gondor, not his own status, and has no jealousy of Aragorn.
3. Wrath/Charity
Fëanor: See, half-brother! This is sharper than thy tongue. Try but once more to usurp my place and the love of my father, and maybe it will rid the Noldor of one who seeks to be the master of thralls.
Gandalf: It was Pity that stayed Bilbo’s hand; Pity, and Mercy, not to strike without need.
I would say that this is the third-most-emphasized of the vices in Tolkien’s works, after pride and avarice. And, of course, another Fëanor example: both his threat on Fingolfin’s life and his actions during the Return of the Noldor, the latter being driven by wrath primarily against Morgoth and secondarily against everyone else in his vicinity (Valar! Teleri! Fingolfin and anyone who supports him!). It’s the spillover that’s the problem, and the self-centredness; hating Morgoth isn’t a problem in and of itself, but Fëanor’s taking the fight against evil and turning it into a personal vendetta, with disastrous consequences.
Túrin is another example, most particularly in three events: causing the death of Saeros, burning the hall of Brodda in Dor-lómin, and killing Brandir. The former two are provoked, the latter isn’t, but all of them are sudden deeds of anger that only serve to make matters worse.
The contrasting virtue is charity, mercy shown to people that you have good reason to be hostile towards. Fingon’s rescue of Maedhros. Lúthien’s sparing of Curufin when he and Celegorm attacked her and Beren. Frodo sparing Gollum and treating him with kindness and compassion.
4. Sloth/Zeal
Guard Hobbit: It won’t do no good talking that way. He’ll get to hear of it. And if you make so much noise, you’ll wake the Chief’s Big Man.
Merry: Shire-folk have been so comfortable so long they don’t know what to do. They just want a match, though, and they’ll go up in fire.
This is comparatively less of an emphasis in Tolkien’s works than some of the other pairings, but I can think of some examples. The best one is Saruman’s takeover of the Shire and the subsequent liberation. Sloth is the characteristic hobbit vice (not gluttony; I’ll get to that); they tend towards being comfortable and complacent and don’t like being bestirred. Even Frodo dawdled around for half a year after learning about the Ring, mostly because he was reluctant to go. And under first Lotho and then Saruman, everyone (except Tooks) more or less puts up with an abuses because they don’t want the trouble or danger of standing up against them. It’s the return of Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Frodo, who have experience fighting evil on a much larger scale (and who can organize things) that spurs them to stand up for themselves and their home.
5. Avarice/Simplicity
Celegorm: For the Silmarils we alone claim, until the world ends.
Gandalf: I wonder what has become of [the mithril-shirt]? Gathering dust still in Michel Delving Mathom-house, I suppose.
Avarice is, I would say, the second-most-emphasized vice in Tolkien’s works, after pride. The central conflicts in both The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings are objects (they’re in the titles!): the Silmarils and the Ring. The Oath is almost the strongest possible expression of avarice, the most extreme statement of this is mine that a person can make; The Ring is an even more extreme expression, as Sauron makes an object that is literally part of himself. And both conflicts are resolved through the renunciation of claim on these objects, in Eärendil’s journey to Valinor (and the Silmaril becoming a star that is seen by everyone and owned by no one) and Frodo and Sam’s mission to destroy the Ring.
The Silmarils themselves are not evil; they are good and hallowed objects, and fights between elves, dwarves, and men are the result of the Oath (the kinslayings) and the connection with the dragon-contaminated and Mîm-cursed treasure of Nargothrond (Thingol and the dwarves of Nogrod). The Ring is evil, and inducing avarice is its most basic power, even among people like Sméagol and Déagol who could never actually wield it; letting it go is incredibly difficult, and Bilbo and Sam are the only people in the history of the Ring ever to do it.
Avarice is also a central theme in The Hobbit, and dragon-treasure is specifically noted as provoking avarice in people who are in any way inclined towards that vice. Smaug is practically a physical manifestation of avarice in his rage over losing one small cup that he has no use for from an immense hoard, and both Thorin and the master of Lake-town fall prey to the dragon-sickness.
I’ve given ‘simplicity’ as the antonym, and I thought of ‘generosity’ as well, but neither of those is quite right. The opposite of avarice is holding lightly to things, and it’s a particular virtue of hobbits. This is seen both in their birthday parties (the tradition of giving away possessions) and the Michel Delving Mathom-house, a museum for old heirlooms that people feel they don’t need to have around. The most beautiful example is Bilbo’s mithril-shirt (worth more than the entire Shire!) spending some time sitting around there.
It’s worth nothing that the vice of avarice in Tolkien’s works isn’t associated with having stuff, just with holding to stuff. Bag End being comfortable isn’t a problem. The Noldor having piles of jewels isn’t a problem provided that they’re sharing them and letting them go, as in the Noontide of Valinor (gemstones scattered on the seashore!) or Finrod giving them away in Middle-earth. The issue comes when the owning becomes what a person values; the signal that Fëanor is becoming too tied to the Silmarils is when he prefers to lock them away so no one else can see them.
6. Gluttony/Abstinence
Gollum: He’ll eat us all, if he gets it, eat all the world!
The lembas had a virtue without which they would long ago have laid down to die. It did not satisfy desire...and yet this waybread of the Elves had a potency that increased as travellers relied on it alone and did not mingle it with other foods. It fed the will, and gave strength to endure...
Gluttony is distinguished from avarice as the desire to consume things, not merely accumulate them. This is an interesting one, because Tolkien has no issue with the consuption of large amounts of food for enjoyment (which hobbits do frequently and enthusiastically!). As with possessions, enjoyment of physical things isn’t seen as problematic. The enjoyment of everyday pleasures is specifically discussed as morally desirable in a way that contrasts with avaricious accumulation (“If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”)
However, there is one large (very, very large) example of the concept of gluttony as unlimited consumption and appetite: Ungoliant. Ungoliant represents not the hoarding of things, but their destruction, and is continually described with very physical terms of appetite and devouring. Shelob and the spiders of Mirkwood are lesser versions of the same concept. There are other mosters in the same vein: Sauron’s werewolves and Carcharoth. On of the names for Carcharoth is Anfauglir, the Jaws of Thirst, specifically invoking the idea of insatiable consumption.
And gluttony can be described more broadly as an form of overconsumption which uses up or destroys things; pollution could be a modern-day example. Looked at in that way, gluttony can be considered the end-stage of all evil in Tolkien, in the same way that pride is its beginning-stage. The ruin of the Anfauglith, the Desolation of the Morannon, the trees of Fangorn used to feed the fires of Isengard or hacked down for no purpose (and even Losgar, if you like) are all its work. Gollum (heavily driven by mundane hunger) grasps this when he fears Sauron regaining the Ring: “He’ll eat us all, if he gets it, eat all the world!” Ungoliant is the final stage of all evil.
In the same way that hobbits enjoying ample meals isn’t treated as a moral flaw, abstinence isn’t particularly notable as a virtue. However, it does come up in forms like Sam noting that lembas provides more endurance as the hobbits rely on it solely in their final journey to Mordor. This indicates that Tolkien regards the ability to go without physical pleasures when necessary as a virtue (also symbolized by Sam’s heartrending decision to give up his cooking gear!) but doesn’t place value on ascetism for its own sake.
If we want to expand on the metaphorical idea of gluttony as overconsumption/destruction, then we can also see healing/restoration as its opposing virtue, in forms like the box of soil that Galadriel gives Sam, which he uses to restore the trees of the Shire.
7. Lust/Romantic Love
Celegorm became enamoured of [Lúthien]...they purposed to let the King perish, and to keep Lúthien, and force Thingol to give her hand to Celegorm.
Beren: Though all to ruin fell the world, and were dissolved and backward hurled, unmade into the old abyss, yet were its making good, for this - the dusk, the dawn, the earth, the sea - that Lúthien for a time should be.
Lust is often regarded simply as a term for physical attraction, and its condemnation as a type of prudishness, but I’m going to present a different take, one that draws on its connection with the two preceding vices (the three are consistently grouped together by Dante). Lust is when the two previous desires, of ownership and consumption/use, are applied not to objects but to a person.
It’s an extremely rare vice among elves, with only a few examples in Elvish history: Celegorm, Eöl, Maeglin. In all cases, there is sexual desire combined with the desire for control, turning to violence when that control is thwarted: Celegorm’s imprisonment of Lúthien in the attempt to force her to marry him, and the later assault on her and Beren; Eöl’s restrictions on Aredhel and murder of her when she leaves him; Maeglin’s attempt to kidnap Idril during the Fall of Gondolin.
In contrast, the examples of romantic love, which are primarily the elf-human couples and especially Beren and Lúthien, combine desire with value for the freedom and identity of the beloved, and with self-sacrifice (or willingness to take on risks) for their sake. Beren’s song before setting out for Angband is a celebration of Lúthien’s existence, irrespective of what may happen to him. Lúthien counters with the expression that she does not want to exist apart from him, and purpose of lovers is to act together and to guard and support each other. Elwing runs through the waves to Eärendil on the shores of Valinor because she would rather face the same risks he does than be safe apart from him. Eärendil accepts immortality for love of Elwing. Arwen accepts death for love of Aragorn.
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milkygcf · 4 years ago
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UNDER THE MISTLETOE
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Pairing | knj x gender-neutral reader
Genre | tooth-rotting fluff i think, established relationship
Warnings | just a tiny bit of cursing, the boys are a chaotic mess
Summary | ❝ Nothing can beat a holiday spent with Namjoon.❞
Word Count | 4.1k
Author’s Note | THIS IS AN ABSOLUTE MESS I’M SORRY 😭🙏 i rush wrote this so i could put up something for christmas. nonetheless, i hope whoever reads this enjoys it! also, big thanks to @youarejesting​ for the banner! i love it, it’s so cute :( another little side note is, this is also part of @btscreatorscorner​‘s Crystal Snow Event! make sure to take a look at all the other works :] happy holidays!
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Christmas with Namjoon is always a wild ride. From hectic decoration shopping to disastrous baking, to actual decorating and singing Christmas songs together. However, it's not like you're complaining, because as rowdy as Christmas time can be with your significant other, nothing can beat a holiday spent with Namjoon.
Every year is an open door to new shenanigans, handmade gifts and memories that embed themselves warmly into your heart. This year isn't any different, except for the fact that the rest of the group were joining for dinner - along with the chaos they always brought along with them. As close as you are with your boyfriend, not even your connection could beat theirs. It's heart-warming - as much as they argue, nothing could possibly tear them apart. Nothing could bring you any more serotonin than the jovial smile that attacks Namjoon's handsome features whenever they're around.
Now, you’re all nearing your thirties - except for Jungkook, he was still bearing life without early back problems - and you suppose you all look the part as well. Unless it's Christmas season and the young man himself proposes they all compete in a Best Decorated House competition between themselves. The winner earns himself an extra present from every participant - which you find rather amusing because you're pretty sure they were willing to buy each other the world in a blink of an eye. The loser, however, gets to wash every dish used during dinner. Ouch.
"Deal!" Namjoon hollers, finger pointed up in agreement, his chest puffed out in pride. You know he's going to stress about it later on because as much as you love the man, he's absolute shit when it comes to decorating. If it weren't for you, his house would be a shit-show. Sorry, Namjoon.
"Can't wait to beat all of your sorry asses!" Seokjin yells even louder, an arm hooked around Yoongi's waist. The energy he radiates astonishes you because even if he's the eldest from the lot, he's always the energetic one. Seokjin might as well be your icon.
And that's how it all began - the calm before the storm. But then again, them proposing this very idea wasn't exactly calm.
You feel a shy tap on your shoulder while you're busy scanning through your fifth isle. Namjoon holds out a tiny Christmas tree to you, his eyes round and shiny. You already know you won't be able to refuse. "Can we get it? Please - my bonsai needs a new friend."
"I think your bonsai would be sad to know their friend is made out of plastic, Joon."
"Well, they wouldn't be sad if they didn't know, right?"
His grin is brimming with mirth. He knows what you're going to say - there was no need to even ask you in the first place because he knew you could never resist his puppy eyes. "Fine," you sigh softly, offering him your sweetest smile. "Make sure Mon doesn't swallow it whole. That dog is a menace."
"He has a restless soul. We'll buy him reindeer ears on our way home."
"Yes!" It elicits giggles from both of you - Namjoon had introduced you to Rapmon just two months into the relationship, claiming you must meet your competition because it's only fair. Frankly, you think the dog himself is competing with your boyfriend - the second you set sight on his silky fur you’ve vowed to never leave his side. Rapmon was an absolute gem. From then on, he was a big part of the events you celebrated together - the main character in your little shenanigans.
Once you've both paid whatever you needed for the day, heaving a ton of shopping bags, you step out of the shop in a fit of giggles. As sophisticated and stern as Namjoon may look, he's quite possibly the clumsiest giant you've ever met. Unfortunately for him, he had accidentally ripped one of the bags you had brought along and as he readied to lift it, all contents came tumbling out as he gawked in terror. Red instantly rushed to his cheeks and you found it hard not to burst out laughing in his face. He wouldn't want to become more flustered than he already felt.
"Every day I wake up to the face of embarrassment," he mumbles ashamedly, shaking his head in dismay. You could only continue to chortle before leaning in to place a tender kiss on his cheek. "It's okay dummy," his cheeks redden even more, "Would some hot chocolate fix your mood?" The second the words slip out of your lips, his face no longer holds a grim expression.
Getting hot chocolate from Pixie’s Magic! is like a tradition between you and Namjoon. Not only was it where you both had met, but it served the most delicious brews you’ve ever tasted. Nothing could possibly beat this little shop in the corner of the mall you were currently in. 
Although it was usually calm and quiet, it seemed to be bustling the day you both go out to buy Christmas decorations. There’s a myriad of people piling up in plan of buying themselves the warmest cup of cocoa - a cup of happiness that would complete their own Christmas. Within that queue of people were families, couples and even people who spend their time alone during the festive season. Pixie’s hot cocoa never failed to brighten days.
You scout through your newly bought items for anything that might pass time. Namjoon stands beside you with his phone in hand, thumb clumsily scrolling through whatever he’d missed from the boys’ usual spam session. “Hoseok’s already got most of his decorations up. Something tells me we’re not winning this so easily.” 
“We’re literally up against Seokjin and Jungkook.” 
He pulls his lips in a taut line - going up against those two was a one way stop to instant loss. Nothing, absolutely nothing could beat either one of them. The competition was and will always be between Seokjin and Jungkook because both were as dense as a brick and would stop at nothing to earn themselves a victory. Frankly, you found it entertaining, even if they were constantly at each other’s throats and threatening to burn each other down - jokingly, of course, you’d never condone violence. Brotherly love if you’ve ever seen it. 
“They’re out of the question. We’re up against the rest, those two idiots can eat an egg.” His bluntness makes you burst into fits of giggles, earning the clear attention of those either ahead of you or waiting (im)patiently behind. Namjoon always had a rather poetic way of saying things. “An egg? You’d be doing them a favour.”
He doesn’t quite realise what you mean until a few seconds later when he breathes out a dejected sigh and massages his temple soothingly. “They’re a whole mess.” 
And he’s right, because when you’re back in the comfort of your humble abode with a warm cup of cocoa waiting for you in the living room, Namjoon’s phone keeps endlessly buzzing. 
“You can’t keep ignoring them forever, you know.”
Namjoon sometimes thinks about how difficult his life would be without you. Go figure that there was no way of avoiding them, right? If you hadn’t told him, he would’ve never guessed so.
The couch sinks underneath his weight as he plants himself beside you, placing a mushy kiss onto your cheek. He’s quick to hand you his beverage once Mon literally hops onto him, wagging his tail like the euphoric little rascal that he is. And there’s peace and quiet, the sound of the crackle of the fireplace, until Namjoon’s thumb slides over the tiny green button making his phone constantly vibrate.
“Namjoon! What took you so long?!”
Seokjin’s voice comes booming out of the device nestled in your boyfriend’s palm. You must admit - it startled you just a bit, but it’s not like you weren’t used to their rambunctious behaviour. “We thought you died. Almost worried us for a while there.”
“Actually,” Jimin so pridefully interrupts, “He was just about ready to forget about you. Don’t act like you didn’t see cloud nine when Tae suggested Joon backed out.” It was all fun and games, affectionate brotherly love between the lot until suddenly, it was a trademarked apocalypse. Truly mind-blowing. 
“You tattletale-!”
“Don’t worry Seokjin,” you snort, “He’s still up and running.” 
“You say that like it’s a bad thing!” Offence washes over Namjoon’s face - perhaps it really is him against the world. Kim Namjoon could trust no one. You could only poke your tongue out at him, earning yourself a blissful smile. “Not at all.”
“Ew. Stop flirting - this isn’t about you, this is about the progress you’re doing.” Seokjin scoffs, making the latter silently giggle to themselves. He has absolutely no filter - nothing could get in the way of the man’s priorities. “Tell that to Yoongi.” His boyfriend was sitting right beside him - and poor him, because Yoongi has to be the strongest man to ever set foot on earth. He’s been dealing with Seokjin’s shit for over a good year or so now. 
“Believe me, I might just knock him out.”
“No way - who’s going to peel your tangerines for work then? Ungrateful imp.” 
Their bickering continues to produce light laughter from the lot of you until you decide it's about time you update each other on your progress. Surprisingly enough, Hoseok was much farther ahead than you all anticipated, and it earned you another fifteen minutes worth of competitive yelling between the youngest and the eldest.
But that was nothing out of the ordinary.
"Move it a little bit to the left," you instructed stringently, hands planted firmly on your hips as your boyfriend does whatever he's told. The tree jiggles with every waking movement, making Namjoon groan at the heavyweight it settles upon him. "Is this alright?" He mumbles tiredly, eyeing you from the depths of its branches.
You could only nibble on your lip, your eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Maybe a bit to the right."
Even when he's exhausted, even when he's sick and tired of turning a piece of mere decoration to countless directions, he doesn't complain. Namjoon wasn't exactly fond of religious festivities, but spending Christmas with you is always something he looks forward to. Setting the deal aside, it was always enjoyable bringing a little life to the house with someone he adores and his heart beats for. "Perfect! Could you grab the baubles? I'll get the ornaments."
Teamwork makes the dream work. An idiom he liked to say on the daily - it always worked between the two of you. Six hours worth of work put into four and the mess that bested every nook and cranny of your house now lessened. You hang the last bauble and sigh in content. "Doesn't it look pretty? I think this is our best one yet."
"Well, technically speaking, I couldn't expect any less from you, bun." His tone of voice resembles that of a young boy in love, his eyes sparkling under the colourful Christmas lights nestled comfortably in the tree's branches as he looks at you with a bashful smile. It's moments like these when you're so caught up in the things you do together, these blissful moments that you realise just how grateful you are for Namjoon. You love him, you love him so much. Nothing could be a better present than spending time with him. He's your bundle of pure euphoria.
"The tree's feeling a little bland, don't you think?"
It takes you a moment to take notice of what he actually meant before you feel extra weight added on top of your head. He teasingly hangs the finishing piece away from you, puckering his lips in hopes he'd earn himself something sweet in return for the star. You could only roll your eyes, but nonetheless, nothing stops you from latching your lips onto his and giving him your love.
Without hesitation, Namjoon scoops you up onto his shoulders, he guides you towards the crest of the tree and watches with bright eyes as you ecstatically plant the finale to the first phase of your decorating. Monnie scratches at the latter's legs in pure joy, barking at you both to signal his presence as well. It elicits laughter, and as Namjoon gently sets you back down, you let your fingers ruffle his fur as he licks at your face.
However, your hours upon hours of decorating doesn't end there, the tinsel messily spread underneath you is a clear indication of this.
With an exhausted huff, you look at Namjoon with hopeful eyes. There's still much to be done.
---
Looks tend to be deceiving when it comes to Kim Namjoon. People tended to deem him as a friendly giant, however, when it came to snowball fights, he was far from that. Like a devil crawling out the pits of hell.
The day you decide to pamper the outdoors of your house, snow starts dribbling from the skies above you. A miracle, because it’s never really snowed so early in December. 
You’re busy setting up mistletoe in front of your front door until you’re barreling forward from the force of something wet on your back. It couldn’t have been Mon - he was sleeping soundlessly inside. But your boyfriend wasn’t - instead, he was childishly running around the front lawn bearing snowballs. 
“Namjoon!” You shriek in utter disbelief, turning around only to face a devious grin. Pure evil dripped from him - Namjoon was no longer the soft bear who insisted you play with his hair. He was now a foe. “You’re going to pay for that!” As quickly as you could, you bear your own weaponry to pay back his foolish actions. 
His giggles echoed across the small space you’re in and before you could even comprehend what was happening, he was already aiming another shot at you. Unfortunately, you were too slow against him. 
Splat!
Three points for Kim Namjoon!
At your absolute suffering, his laughter only gets louder over Mariah Carey’s gorgeous singing coming from inside. “You’ll pay for this, you evil man!” However, your threats are only drowned out by his boisterous laughter. “I’d like to see you try!” 
And you do. Because while he’s busy laughing his ass off at your misery, you earn yourself the rightful chance to aim a snowball right into his face. Three points? You just scored a whole seven. 
He’s baffled - completely, utterly speechless at what’s happened. Well, you definitely weren’t going to stand there and let him conquer victory, he knew that for a fact. He just didn’t think you’d be so blunt. Now you’ve earned him a pink nose. But was he going to let you get away with it? No, Namjoon’s a Virgo. 
He charges towards you like a clumsy child. You almost screech in surprise, instead, busting out in fits of laughter as you tumble and trip away from him. “Hey-! Get back here!” He cries out, almost face-planting into a hefty pile of snow. That would’ve been outright hilarious. 
“Just try and catch me, big man!”
It’s light-hearted, it’s all lively and pleasant. You were both adults, but nothing stopped you from feeding into the fruits of life and feeling youthful sometimes. You both did it for the hell of it because you knew that with each other, you could be anything. 
You’re too busy laughing to actually take notice of where your feet were taking you, feigning into the mess beneath you and tripping in your own feet. A loud thud leaves your descent, and with that, your boyfriend tumbling down on top of you because he was too clumsy for his own good. It was cute, really. Namjoon lets out a terrified shriek, his arms landing just beside your head - luckily because you’re pretty sure you would’ve earned yourself a long-surviving black-eye. 
“Got you,” he says rather flusteredly. There’s a hint of panic in his eyes that almost seems as if he’s seen God himself. Had the fall really taken the piss out of him? 
“No,” you state, shaking your head as best as you can. “Technically speaking, I got you.” You place a quick kiss on his pretty pink nose just for good measure, because in truth, you really did get him. He was on three points while you were on a steady seven. Namjoon pulls his lips in a taut line ever so shyly, hiding the growing smile planting itself on his face. No longer was he your arch-nemesis - your boyfriend was back to being your friendly neighbourhood giant. “Shouldn’t we get back to decorating? I thought you wanted to beat the others.” Perhaps it slipped through his mind because the second those words slip through yours, he’s already hoisting himself up and pulling you along with him. Kim Namjoon does not give up in the face of competition, that much is clear, even when he’d previously been working off a snowball fight.
“I couldn’t help myself!” He defends nonetheless, his palm scratching shyly at his mess of a mane. “But now that I think about it, we can have as many snowball fights as we want when we kick ass. A win-win situation, if I do say so myself.”
A win-win situation indeed. 
When the boys call later on in the evening, it becomes clear that Namjoon was second in lead - Jimin taking first place. While the rest were busy taking things easily, he’d effortlessly managed to get things done in only a short matter of time. He definitely wasn’t there to play. 
“No way. You’re cheating!” Taehyung accuses, astonishment evident from the little you could see of his face. His lighting was absolute crap. Despite his belief, Jimin easily shakes off his accusation with a mischievous grin. “I don’t know Taehyung, maybe if you hadn’t been slacking off at Taco Bell you would’ve been catching up.” 
“Wha-! What a heathen - I’d choose Taco Bell over this any day!”
“How dare you! This is Christmas decorating you red-headed scoundrel!”
“This isn’t about you Seokjin!”
“Might as well be,” Yoongi mumbles from beside him, lazily scrolling through his phone as a yawn escapes his lips. You might just think he’s aged by a couple of years because of this ordeal. “You’re all complete losers,” Jungkook comments, face completely mushed against his phone as he nibbles on whatever was in front of him. The kid feared absolutely nothing - the wrath of a butthurt Kim Seokjin wasn’t any different.
Namjoon squints at his phone. He clearly wasn’t wearing his glasses, nor his contact lenses, and you knew he’d face the consequences later on. You’ve spent countless days by his side tending to his colossal headache. “Are you… Are you eating raw pop tarts?”
“Yes.”
“Raw. Aren’t you supposed to toast them?” There’s confusion laced in his tone, and in between, intense fear. “That’s like, a felony.”
Jungkook lets out a scandalised gasp. “No way! I’m not letting this piece of divine heaven be tainted by modern technology! I don’t even have a toaster, and there’s no way in hell I’m touching the microwave.”
Hoseok snickers. “He thinks it’s going to explode.”
“Don’t test me! I know the evil that sits within that thing.” 
As complex at it was, you’ve come to the conclusion that there’s no explaining what these men are made out of. They’re simply built differently. In fact, you’ve grown out of trying to comprehend them, because you could be on your death-bed and they’d still be saying and doing things that would make you sigh and shake your head. 
---
Alas, the day has come, and so have the boys, who just wouldn’t stop rambunctiously banging on your door. You’re busy setting up the table, Mon at your feet wagging his tail excitedly. “Namjoon!” You call out, balancing a few plates on the palms of your hands. “Namjoon! Could you get the door?”
However, as much as you yell, Namjoon doesn’t respond. You suppose it’s because he hasn’t come back from wherever he had gone earlier during the day. Odd. 
Nonetheless, you set a few plates down on the dining table, hurriedly skipping over to your front door only to be trampled by none other than your special guests for the night. “Finally!” A rather over-dramatic Seokjin sighs, patting away the invisible sweat dripping down his forehead. “Waiting for you to open was like running a marathon. I swear!” 
You could only laugh as Jimin pulls you in for an embrace - it was in his habits to do so whenever he saw you. It’s not as if you mind, his hugs were by far the best you’ve felt. They were full of love and warmth, something that perfectly describes the man himself. “Don’t mind him,” he tells you, rolling his eyes at the dramatics his friend was making. “He really needed to piss.” 
“Sorry for taking so long - Namjoon hasn’t gotten back home from this morning.” 
“He hasn’t?” Yoongi neatly sets his shoes by the door, unwrapping a thick scarf from his neck, dangling it on your coat hanger. “That’s pretty unusual, he doesn’t like being out in cold weather.” 
“He probably got into some traffic,” you assume, “Hopefully he’ll be back soon. Until then, make yourselves at home. We’ll order take-out soon!”
All of you were like a proper family when it came to celebrating Christmas. Each year, sleepovers are taken in turns going from eldest to youngest. This year just so happens to be Namjoon’s turn - it’s not as if you mind, the house seems more lively when they’re around. They had that thing about them, that wherever they went they tended to make things brighter. Not once have you felt gloomy or perhaps left out. The seven of them all had qualities in contrast to one another, all showing you different ways of happiness. You’re lucky to say you have them in your life.
The wait for Namjoon continues. You all settle with playing board games, for the time being, the living room turning into a whole battleground because Yoongi can’t go by without cheating once in a while. He was really cunning, you could see Taehyung trying to pick up on his tricks. 
“Uno!” Jimin yells, shoving a proud middle finger in Seokjin’s face. The man could faint from the amount of disrespect he was receiving. “Try beating that, old man.” 
“I’ll tell you I’m more than an old man! I want a rematch. You’re all cheats, all of you.”
“You’re just a sore loser.” Jungkook was on thin ice. His nitpicking on Seokjin was getting him nowhere but pure, utter hell while he was sleeping. You admire his courage - he was fucking insane. “Sore losers don’t win, old man.” 
Seokjin almost gets up to throttle him for his constant bullying when the door swings open and you’re all met by layers upon layers of clothing stomping inside. He’s carrying a bunch of bags you can’t seem to decipher, and you could see his nose poking out from his scarf. 
Finally, Namjoon’s back home. 
“Hey __, I’m back. I’m sorry I took so-” 
“Joon, you idiot!” Before you could even bat an eye, Taehyung and Hoseok were on the man like hungry beasts. He was already eaten up by whatever garments he was wearing, the only pieces missing were the duo for him to finally disappear. “What took you so long? We were worried sick! Jimin can’t DJ for the life of him.” 
“Hey-!”
You hoist yourself up and dust off whatever remnants of gingerbread cookies were left on you. All the concern that had been building up over time of Namjoon not being home had now diminished. Sudden relief washes over you because you hadn’t really noticed how worried sick you’ve been until he’d stepped into the house. Namjoon can be really impulsive sometimes. 
“Joon,” He wraps his arms around your smaller figure and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Where have you been? Had me really worried for a second there.”
There’s this cheeky look in his face that makes you swoon. He’s so lovely, in all his ways, you just can’t help but be filled with so much love. You love him. 
“I kind of… I kind of forgot to pick your present up. Sorry - Didn’t want to worry you, just a clumsy move.” 
He’s all you’ve ever imagined. 
“Get over here you two - we’re ordering take-out!” Your little moment is easily interrupted by the guys hollering you over, to which you oblige because you wouldn’t want to waste another second. You could hear Namjoon’s stomach grumbling a bit. “Have I been out for that long?” He queries, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “Dummy, it’s six in the afternoon. It’s already dark.” 
“Well, I’m finally back home now, right where I need to be.” 
You don’t notice it, but there’s a little mistletoe just above your heads. And Namjoon knows this because he points up towards it with mirth laced in his pretty eyes and a pretty smile. “Merry Christmas,” he tells you before he leans in and gives you what you rightfully deserve.
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cartoonfangirl1218 · 3 years ago
Text
Winner’s Curse Ch. 25
“What are we doing here?” Jay asked, kicking at the impenetrable wall.
“You three need to talk. Your little feuds are ruining the mission for the rest of us so nows a time for heart to heart before we all die in battle.” Calix said.
They all stared at him disbelievingly.
“We could die in battle. Especially with your teamwork skills.” They still stared at him, each a stony and defiant face.
“I could do a truth spell to make you talk but I thought it should be more organic. Instead we’re all going to be stuck here until you work things out.” Calix said smoothly.
Aziz tried to use a more diplomatic approch, “Cal, you said it yourself, we have a mission to do. We can’t waste time talking and-”
“Oh, but we can. Because this is a life changing adventure, and as we know from our parents’ stories, there is almost always a heart to heart before the final battle. This is it.” Calix threw out his arms grandly as  if he was presenting a magnificent buffet of chocolate fountains and not being trapped against their wills.
“You cant keep us in here,” Jordan protested, “This is my lamp. I’ll just poof us out here. So nice try but-”
“The spaghetti incident.” Calix said simply and Jordan’s stilled the hand she was about to poof them away. She glared at him but did nothing else to help get them out.
“What’s “the spaghetti incident?” Aziz asked, confused.
“It’s nothing,” Jordan waved off, refusing to look anyone in the eye.
“It’s blackmail.” Calix clarified matter of factly before giving a thoroughly annoyed Jordan an enthusiastic one-armed hug, “Don’t fight the heart to heart. Don’t fight the tropes of adventuring and ragtag misfits against evil. You must go with it.”
Jay rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall in a classic bad boy biker pose which seemed a bit ridiculous since he was posed next to an ultra girly beaded curtain.
“If we’re supposed to, hypothetically, have a heart to heart,” Jay began “Didn’t think you knew such big words,” Aziz muttered
Jay glared and continued, “Why are you still here?”
“I’m here to make sure you do it,” Calix magicked up some headphones, and increased the volume, “I won’t hear anything. Just give me the signal when you’re done.” With that instruction he hopped onto a pile of pillows, jamming out to his own playlist.
Where once it was like they hadn’t been able to stop spewing enough curses and vitriol at each other, now silence reigned. Silence and the blinding shine of the golden walls which they stared at resolutely because they didn’t want to look at each other. None of them wanted to participate in this idiotic heart to heart and spill feelings to people they currently hated.
So Calix jumped up from his pillows and tried to get the ball rolling again.
"Okay, maybe my presence is making it hard for you to be your usual motormouth selves so I’ll go and leave this to start the conversation. How about you start with Jordan and your obvious trust issues toward everyone that makes you incapable of a “Thank you." Calix suggested a bit too enthusiastically than the situation called for.
"I don't!" Jordan immediately argued but Calix clapped his hand over mouth, "I know denial is your go-to but we have to save the realm tomorrow so let's get this over with."
"But but-"
"Again,” Calix sighed, frustration finally creeping into his voice as he repeated himself again, “Every hero's journey has that tipping point where they must come together and share their deepest fears to find out the fears are irrational because of the power of love and friendship." Calix said.
"I seriously hate it when you use my lectures on story tropes against me." Jordan grumbled.
"I don’t care what you hate," Calix began to fade away, "If you don't start bonding I will transform you into mice when this is over."
"Why mice?" Jay asked
"Mices are automatically inducted into Cinderella's sewing circle. So double punishment to you for not listening to me as you always should. Ta ta!” And with a final woosh of breeze that came from nowhere, he was gone.
Aziz and Jordan resumed their previous staring contest with the wall but Jay, fed up with this situation, and figuring they might as well get this over with, glared “So what is with your trust issues? You came from Auradon, not the Isle, why are you so paranoid?”
Jordan glared at him in return, furious that he was expecting her to dignify his question with an answer he should obviously know.
But she had to admit, she was tired too. Her arms hurt from the crescent moon marks that her nails had dug in. She was feeling residue cramps from the Antiquam’s cream or maybe it was her own tension. Not to mention her teeth hurt from clenching them so tightly. She remembered once, on a family trip long ago, Jordan had been in a mood because she had missed an Orpheus concert due to her parents’ inability to care about time. Her parents had offered to take her to another concert later that night, but she pettily refused to enjoy it.
Her dad had said it hurt more to hold onto  a grudge when you can be enjoying the present. And it was true, once she had stopped ruminating on her parents’ flaws and simply listened to Orpheus’ sweet voice, the burning ball of annoyance had faded away.
And she was so tired.
She had nothing left to lose.
“As if you don’t know,” Jordan began, though with a lot less malice that she usually put behind her snark. Not that it made Jay raised his guard any less. Jordan sighed and tried again, more gentle this time.
“Well you already said it yourself. Auradonians can be hypocrites. It’s all happily ever after and respect and love and harmony is everywhere but it’s not true. They can’t have my lamp so they think if they’re nice to me and pretend to care but they’re just waiting for the right moment to ask for wishes. All of them,” Jordan side-eyed Aziz who stared stonily at her instead of looking guiltily away as she wanted him to.
“And I know people think my magic is amazing, with the wishes and all that. But it’s not,” Jordan continued, on a roll of her own, trying to make Jay understand taht even though she didn’t have Jafar as a father, her life was not pastel perfect as most Auradonians, “It’s not. I can’t give wishes to myself. If I did, I’d wish for people to like me, to be nice to me not because they like me, they think I might grant them something. And when I don’t grant them a wish, those fucking lying smiles and royal manners disappear. Because I am not human. I don’t get to be treated as if I have feelings or anything. Hell, one of my exes told me if I’m not granting wishes then I’m worthless because what else do genies live for?”
“And when I do grant wishes, usually against my will, I can’t even use magic against them. I can’t hurt my masters unless they wish for that or I find a loophole somehow. But I can’t find loopholes all the time,” Her mind automatically went to that awful night, the repeat that had almost occurred with Antiquam and Jordan choked. She hastily wiped away the tears that were beginning to streak down her cheeks.
Allah, she felt embarrassed as she saw Jay’s uncomfortable expression, eyes darting as if he wasn’t sure if he should comfort her or look away from her breakdown.
But she couldn’t stop, she felt words clamber and spill out of her throat like uncontrolled word vomit.
“And-and I wish that I didn’t have wishes to give. I wish I didn’t have to become semi-phenomenally cosmic just so I can be free. Even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to use it. Auradon has a fucking Magic Ban because it’s unfair to you, mortals. It’s unfair to us. Genies, and faey need their magic to live or else they’re just wasting away. Why are we punished for being born “better than you.”
“But instead, instead we have this. Resentment for being forced to hide ourselves so mortals can feel better. We can help people. But it’s also the same thing that makes people fear us and send those like Circe and Morgana Le Fey to the Isle and then they become evil because they’re bitter that they’d do this to them. Auradon creates their own enemies like a self fulfilling prophecy. “It’s like a winner’s curse.” Jordan muttered.
Sometimes when her father talked about Aladdin’s story, he phrased it as a series of winner’s curses. A winner’s curse, where one has all the power, the riches, everything they could want as a winner but the cons usually outweigh such gifts.
Jasmine was a privileged princess but that meant she was a target for a greedy vizier and princess who only wanted to add her money to their fortunes.
Aladdin got the lamp but it meant only that he had to be on guard to keep up his Prince Ali lie, and later, for Jafar who stole the lamp.
Jafar became a genie, he technically “won” since he got what he wanted, to become all powerful with phenomenal cosmic powers. But he couldn’t use it since he was stuck in an itty bitty living space.
A genie’s life was one big winner’s curse. She was beholden to people who only saw her as much of an object as her lamp and the wishes she could materialize.
Maybe everyone’s lives had a bit of a winner’s curse. The Aks “won,” got their happily ever afters in Auradon but others would always be resentful of their status and try to take it away from them. Like all of their most dangerous enemies that lived just across the bridge plotting to do just that.
And if they won, if they somehow managed not to screw up saving the world, the villains would still rise to do just that. Someone will be jealous of their fame and try to usurp the glory. People might see her as more than a wishmaker... or people would just see it as bonus. Date her for the popularity and the power.
There would always be something to outweigh the good.
And unlike any other curse, there was no way to break it.
“And I thought maybe if I did this, helped lead to save Auradon that it could change. People would see that magic can be used not just for selfish desires but to help the kingdom. That I’m so much more than wish fulfillment. But all this proved just the opposite. I can’t lead. I should be accept that my life will eventually be solitude and greedy people. And admit my parents were right all along to boot.” Jordan sank to the ground, staring uselessly at her wrists where the gold bracelets would usually shine like a mocking reminder.
And for some reason, Jay was caught by that last part rather than the real emotional turmoil that she talked about before.
“I thought-why are you so upset your parents are right?” He asked
Jordan wiped her eyes again now that she was no longer feeling weepy, “I love my parents and I love hanging out with them but- you know. They’re not- They gave up parenting me so I- I thought I would get back at them by not being like them at all. I’m serious and hard working and not spontaneous at all. Just be nothing like them, cut ties and all that. Well,not that I had to try too hard, a lot of my personality comes natural but I wanted to stick it to them.”
“Not that they care. They say it’s just a phase and when I’m a grown up, I’ll act like a regular genie like thm. Still.. hate to prove them right.”
“To be fair, I think some of the standard genie personailty comes from being in solitary confinement for thousands of years at a time,” Aziz said with a small smile as he slid down next to her.
Just like old times.
Jordan genuinely smiled at the glimpse of Aziz, the Aziz that was her best friend and brother and confident, her platonic soul mate that she loved. “Actually, because I made that vow to accept that I’m a genie and that I should act like one, that’s why I was more interested in your love life than usual. You’re my Aladdin so I had to keep you safe from your worst mortal impulses. As usual.”
Aziz’s small smile faded and Jordan frowned at the change, remembering their previous words, “Though we’re not like our Dads… not if you just-”
“I don’t tolerate you for the wishes you might grant me.” Aziz said, directly staring her in the eye so she’d know he was telling the truth. Not that she needed that, somewhere in her heart she knew that had been a lie. But what hurt more than the lie itself was..
“Then why the hell would you say that? You know that’s my worst fear and that you’re one of the few exceptions. Why would you-” “I wanted to hurt you as much as you’d you hurt me.” Aziz answered calmly.
“How have I ever hurt you? I’m the one always saving your neck!” Jordan defended.
“That’s exactly it! You’re always trying to save me or set me up on dates because you don’t think I can do it myself. You think I lead with my dick, that I’m clumsy and breakable and impulsive and foolish. The same thing you think of all mortals. And I thought I was the one exception to you, but I’m not.” Aziz cried.
Jordan scoffed, not sure how to respond except, “Can you blame me? You mess up on so many things.”
“Thanks, Jordan. Really.” Aziz rolled his eyes, “Thanks for thinking the same things of me as everyone else does.”
Aziz seized up Jay who came to sit down across from them in a small triangle with a bewildered look at their back and forth. Totally confused as to the thought that Aziz could have problems of his own which Aziz was too happy to correct.
“You don’t think I can do anything on my own. Everyone else thinks I’m forgettable, I’ve been totally useless on this mission. The only reason people know me is because I’m Aladdin’s son and you’re my genie. That’s it. But Jay… Jay is….”
Jay tensed as if already waiting for the moment he could punch Aziz for the insult.
“Jay is wonderful,” Aziz mocked in a high falsetto before going back to his normal voice, “”Jay is so charming and agile and clever. He’s a real thief.” Do you know how much it sucks for people to say that you’re more like Aladdin than me?”
Jay gaped, “Um-h-how I never-No one told me?” “No, they’d never tell you that your similar to one of Auradon’s heroes. I’m the one they tell.. Straight to my face how they think you’re more Aladdin’s son than I am,” Aziz said bitterly.
“Well, you’re definitely Jasmine’s son. You have her political intelligence,” Jordan pointed out optimistically as she used to do when Aziz vented about Jay. Cutting off Jay’s proud smile when he opened his mouth, clearly about to self brag at the worst possible moment.
“It still sucks. I’m forgettable to people. Invisible now that Jay’s around.” Aziz turned to Jay, “I used to wish you were a mini Jafar. I would have had more of a reason to hate you if you were like your dad, and I wouldn’t have to admit that I’m just so jealous that you’re better than me in everything.”
Aziz felt his blood pump, and stod up, pacing for more room as more feeling spilled into words that he hadn’t been able to say out loud before, “I’m not like the other princes. I’m not going to rule Agrabah, my sister is, so what do I do? I don’t have to take governing classes or really find a future queen right away which is great but- that made me even more unremarkable. I had no prince duties, I’m not a mini Aladdin. It felt like my introvertedness, my own personality was preventing me from following my legacy. And I tried to change myself to be more outgoing and be one jump ahead of what everyone expected of me but then Jay came and then…. I felt like I was always going to be inferior to everyone. All the Jays and the magical genies around me were more interesting than I could ever be.”
Jay’s proud look vanished, taking on a more thoughtful expression, “Maybe I could help you be better? So we’re equals in stealing.” Before this conversation it would have been mocking, another punch to the gut, but Aziz could see that Jay was being genuine, and Aziz smiled at the offer.
“Thanks but no thanks. I had a conversation with a friend,” He turned to Jordan, emphasizing, “Just a friend, and she made me realize that if people can’t bother to see past my introvertedness or prefer Jay over me, that I don’t need them.”
Aziz turned to Jay once more, “But I’m sorry that I took out all my jealousy on you, and acted like you the Jafar I wanted you to be.”
Jordan leaned his shoulder, still thinking of his previous words, “I’m sorry that I made you think you weren’t the exception to my view of mortals. You are. I don’t think you’re completely incapable of doing things on your own. I like hanging out with you, we have the best times together. And your… your love life is entertaining. Honestly, sometimes-and you’re not allowed to overanalyze this like usual or use me as your case study in psychology class again-maybe the reason I’m so invested in your life because it’s better than my own. And if you need me, you won’t leave me. But if it bothers you, I’ll ask for your permission first.” Aziz side-hugged her and for once, did not try to probe that admission ripe for psychoanalytical analysis, “'Ant ealiq maei, Bmout Fiki.”
“You know, I really dislike when you talk like that in front of me.” Jordan and Aziz unhugged and looked quizzically at Jay, “What the sentimental mushiness? You’re stuck in a heart to heart, you gotto deal with it.”
“No, the Arabic thing. I don’t know,” Jay almost physically shrank back as if wishing he could take the words back but he continued trying to pretend he was talking to Jade again or his friends, “Like you said Jafar only taught me how to steal and cheat, not language. I-I want to, I heard so much about Agrabah but…”
Jay sighed and started again, “I want to know stuff like Arabic and see Agrabah but you always stuck together and throw it in my face that I don’t know those things. How can I? It’s not my fault that I was born here. I never had a chance to learn all the things you know. Or learn “big words” or-or anything you grew up with. You know I’m not like you and you keep judging me for that. I’m trying to change and you think I’m lying.”
Aziz and Jordan looked shame-faced at the floor, mullifying the last of Jay’s previous anger towards them.
“I am trying. But- Everyone else is doing better than me. Mal is embracing her role as a court lady, Carlos is having a blast at school, getting to learn techno stuff and helping the animal shelter. Evie has her business. I have tourney and R.O.A.R. but that still involves the fighting that makes me a Vk.”
“But we- it doesn’t make you a Vk,” Aziz faltered on the point because they all knew it was wrong. Jay’s aggression on the court was another thing that made him stand out compared to the polite royals who never fought in their life. So vulgar, so ruthless. So villainous.
“I still can’t stop myself from stealing shiny objects. I still seek out the exits of each room because that’s just what you do here to survive. It- I feel like I haven’t improved as much as the others have but I don’t know how I’m supposed to get better. But I have changed. I’d forgotten how bad it is here, I got soft.. I’m just stuck.”
“And I thought I was doing better. I care about my friends like good guys do. I protect them but I haven’t really,” Jay admitted, some of his former doubts of whether his big brother title was earned, resurfacing.
“I’ve done nothing for my friends, and I heard you don’t need to but I- I was not raised that way. You have to be able to offer something if you want to be worth anyone’s time. Everything is transactional. Dad cared for me because of what I could give him. I thought it was the same with friends. Even though it’s not transactional, I still feel like a worthless friend without being able to offer anything.” Jay ended abruptly, shifting his gaze to the lint on the oriental rug, picking at it to give himself something to do than look at their pitying stares, “I really haven’t changed if I still think like Dad, I guess, but I can’t shake it.”
But Jordan placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look up at, not pity, but a sort of understanding.
They had all messed up. Resenting each other for not seeing their difficulties, for basing their views on expectation and legacy rather than reality and how the shadows of their parents haunted many of their actions.
But with the truth revealed, the biases stripped away, they wouldn’t continue.
“I’m sorry. Neither of us have been treating you fairly, but we could teach you Arabic. If you join us in Agrabah for vacation,” Aziz trailed off, offering his hand.
“Sure,” Jay smiled, “I think I’ll be able to get through it now without wanting to punch you.”
They all stood up, stretching out their limbs, feeling much more relaxed now that some of the air was cleared.
“What are you smiling about?” Aziz punched Jordan’s shoulder to get her attention from wherever she was zoning out.
“I was just thinking it’s a funny coincidence that we’re all sexy, witty bisexuals with daddy issues and a love for gold, jewels and parkour-flipping adventures,” Jordan raised a sardonic eyebrow, “But I can’t figure out if it’s just us or maybe all Agrabahians share that.”
The three took a pause, staring at each other at the surprising commonality between them.
Jay was the first to recover with his usual smirk, “I don’t know about these two or the supposed “daddy issues” but sexiness always applies to me.”
“Get over yourself.” Aziz rolled his eyes before unsubtly puffing up his own chest, “We all are sexy. It’s practically in our national anthem. “More than often that not, we’re hotter that hot-“
“In a lot of good ways.” Jordan finished, bumping her hip against his, the first friendly smile she gave to him in days, "Though I'm the wittest out of us."
"You? Really? You don't snark, you just insult people." Jay retorted.
"It's true. And you always "reference" things that only your parents know. Like when you go all Spanish, "Say hello to my little friend." Aziz added.
"That's from Scar-right you don't know that. Well there's um...What great one-liners have you've come up with?" Jordan shot back, clearly perturbed by Jay and Aziz teaming up against her with the same condescending look on her banter skills.
Aziz, the more diplomatic of them, swung an arm over her and Jay’s shoulder, “Let’s not get into another argument now. Even if it’s a stupid argument. We have a battle plan to do.”
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squishybuttercup · 5 years ago
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Nam Jaejoong
28 years old - Genius - Slob - Bookworm
@simvicii​ Alex’s Bachelor Challenge
(NOTE: Under the cut is LOOONG story with his earlier life containing tw violence and depression. If you’re okay with that content, I hope you take the time to get to know Jae.)
  Backstory:
Jae was orphaned when he was 10, and he had been keeping to himself mostly ever since then. His family had gone through series of tragedies, but most of those things do not make sense to a child. When he was 6, his older sister was diagnosed with Leukemia. Their parents’ relation started to strain as they struggle to earn money for his sister’s treatments and for their basic needs. They worked multiple jobs, and took turns in taking care for their children, but Jae was mostly overlooked. Both of them had to stop school, and so their only activities at home were reading and house chores (which eventually Jae had to do most as his sister’s condition worsened). Their parents were barely home, and when they were, all they would do is fight (screaming at each other and throwing things around the house). Eventually, his father stopped coming home. Without enough financial aid, medical treatments for his sister halted. She died when Jae was around 9 years old.
After years of struggles and pain, his mother was pushed to a point of experiencing depression. Again, a child wouldn’t know what to do in his situation. After all these things, the worst was yet to come for him. Robbers came to their house one night, and his mother tried to fight them of from stealing what is left of their savings. Jae rushed to help her but one of the robbers attacked him, all he could remember was a sharp pain on his face before he passed out (This resulted in him having a scar on his face). He woke up in a hospital bed, wherein a police officer broke the news to him, his mother was killed in the robbery. The orphanage has sent him from foster families after foster families. Jae spent most of his time on his own, reading books and trying experiments (when he has resources). He had a hard time at school because most kids and teachers just saw him as a weird kid. When he was 17 his genius potentials were noticed by their school principal who decided to give him a test, wherein if he passed he is then qualified to continue on to college despite him stopping school for a few years.
After passing the exam, Jae was then introduced to a couple willing to adopt him even though he is almost in legal age. The couple were both middle-aged doctors, who never had a chance to have a child of their own. They think that he will fit right in their household, and he did like it there. He had access to a library with a lot of medical books, a comfortable bed, and supportive guardians. During his time spent with them and in college, he slowly started to open up to other people. It was a little awkward for him at first to call them “mom” and “dad” but he got used to it.
For his bachelor’s degree, he took up BS Psychology. His course was a big part of how he was able to help himself heal and to also attend therapy. His social life also started to grow as he participated in different organizations that are about healthcare and environment preservation. When it comes to his dating life, well, college girls and boys don’t usually take interest on someone who has his face buried in a book. He went on a few first dates, but none of those developed into anything serious.
He did of course still spend most of his time reading, especially fictions which are fantasy genre since that was his interest when he was a kid. Jae was usually submerged in studying; this applies to all kinds of topics ranging from social issues up to medical discoveries. Whenever this happens, he tends to ignore the random papers, candy wrappers, water bottles littered in his room so his mom describes him as bit of a slob. (Their housemaid confirmed this).
His motto in life is “Keep Learning”. He values individual growth and always finds ways on self-improvement. He tried out sports during this time too, which are basketball and tennis. They were fun for him but they didn’t exactly become his favorite activities. But his experience did help him realize that hobbies aside from reading are important as well. This was how he developed the habit of jogging every other day, and he also tried going to the gym but that didn’t work out for him so he opted for exercising at home instead.
Jae entered medical school when he was 22, and he originally planned to pursue being a General Practitioner. But during his third year, when he had to choose his field of specialization in medical practice, he chose to focus on being a surgeon. Furthermore, his goal is to be a neurosurgeon.
When it comes to family bonding, they genuinely enjoy discussions related to their field of expertise. His dad is a Physician and his mom is an OB-GYN. But medical field aside, they enjoy watching action movies together. They also go out to eat ice cream during summer, and their favorite food to eat during winter is ramen.
  Right now, at age 28, he has finished 2 years of internship. He is currently evaluating his life and his goals in life.
“I’m working as an intern in the same hospital where my parents work. But I decided to take a small break from that for now. I am passionate about my career, but I’m also the kind of guy who dreams of having his own family. And uhm.. I’ve been thinking that I’m not getting any younger, and now more than ever I want to take this shot at love. I talked it out with my parents, because they’ve always been supportive of my career, and they said they want what’s best for me, and that I’m the one who knows that. I’m going to admit that the idea of my own family also terrifies me, but I also know that with the kind of person I am now, I’m going to be a responsible and loving father/husband.”
The reason why Jae is even able to make this choice, despite the well-known fact that doctors are busy as heck, is because of his security in his workplace and the support from his parents and friends. The hospital he works on ensures not only the best care for its patients, but also to its workers. The board members and all staff are aware of Jae’s capability as a doctor and treats him with high regard even though he’s only an intern so far. He had a discussion with the Director of the hospital before he started internship, to which he expressed his intentions and wishes regarding his working hours incase he decides to start a family. The Director is a good friend of their family, and one of the few people who knows about his past. Which is why he has made arrangements for Jae, with the knowledge that he will still be able to work his best.
Jae doesn’t really know what to think of fate or coincidences, but just during the start of his break, he saw “The Bachelor: Alexander Goth”. He wasn’t one to have crushes immediately on someone, more so on someone he hasn’t met. But boy did Alex leave an impression on him. The more he read about him, his interest in him develops and he hopes to get to know him in person someday. He deeply respects Alex’s work as an author, and he’s pretty excited to read his works!
“I’m entering this challenge and I view it as me spending time with possibly the love of my life. When it comes to what I look for in a relationship, I want someone I can grow with. People are so obsessed with finding their Perfect Match, and most of the time they just look for someone who is completely compatible with who they are at the moment, and worse they only want these ideal soulmates. I think that it’s important for partners to respect, trust and love each other. But they should also be aware that people continuously change overtime, and that as partners they must grow together and always choose each other.”
  Here is a CAS picture of him where his scar is now visible:
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squishybuttercup’s notes: hi love!! I know that your aim with this challenge is to have gameplay-centered legacy. But the reason why I wrote this much detail about him is for you (and alex) to get to know him well. Gameplay-wise he can just work as doctor in the sims world and be one of the two best dads in the sims world. Also Jae isn’t the type of person who shares his life story away, so I imagine him telling Alex himself about that part ^_^ I’m super excited for this and I hope Nam Jaejoong gets picked! Anything else not mentioned here you may ask me or opt to have your own interpretation I don’t mind as I am literally offering him to be in your game ajsdfsjkl this also means i acknowledge that you might change his looks to fit your game’s aesthetics. also ily :p
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andiandyandee · 5 years ago
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We Are Going to Be Friends Pt. 8
Check it out, I finished the stupid chapter, and it’s not even angsty. (Or in other words, the chapter where we establish that Roman and Logan are completely hopeless and also Logan is soft (tm)
Words: 1681
Here’s the Series on a03
Heres the last part
Tag List: @datfearlessfangirl @princemesscharming @illogicalthinking @holliberries
Let me know if you want tagged! Please Reblog this, without reblogs I don’t get feedback and without feedback you can expect fewer chapters because I’m less motivated to write. 
Anyway here’s the fic:
    By the time they actually finished working through Remus’s English work, it was dark outside, and the crowd downstairs had grown considerably. Where there had at one point been only a few, there were now easily twenty teenagers downstairs. When Logan and Remus walked into the living room, the crowd was, in fact, singing broadway songs. Remus adamantly refused to join in, and Logan didn’t know them, so he too just watched them sing, slightly bemused. Once they had ordered pizza, 10 of them, as a matter of fact, the songs died down and the whole group was mostly just laying around, several conversations happening at once. Logan wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular, occasionally making a quip or answering a question, but mostly just curled up on the couch, glad to be anywhere but at his parents' house.
    His relaxation was cut short by Kai flopping down on the couch next to him, his head in Logan’s lap.
    “Give me attention.” Kai groaned, shifting uncomfortably. Logan instinctively started playing with his hair, which is what he usually did with Alex when she got like this, but he couldn’t help noticing the way Kai was grimacing as he tried to get comfortable.
    “Are you… In pain?” Logan asked quietly, handing Kai a pillow to help elevate his back a bit.
    “Oh. Wait, give me less attention than that.” Logan raised an eyebrow, “It’s fine, just EDS.” Kai replied, obviously hoping Logan would either be too embarrassed to ask or too proud to admit he didn’t know something.
    “Oh, do you have your braces? Or pain meds you need to take? I would be willing to get them for you.” Kai looked at him, mostly shocked, but also confused.
    “You know what EDS is? How do you know I even wear braces, maybe I don’t.”
   “Yes, I am vaguely familiar with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, as a member of my typical social group also has it, though theirs is the vascular kind, rather than the classic type you appear to have. And based on the constant bruises to your hands, wrists, elbows, which are all in the shape of typical bracing equipment, along with the fact that you regularly wear long sleeves or gloves to hide your braces when you do wear them,” Kai made a face at that, “plus you are, currently, wearing a knee brace, I thought it might be an easy jump to make.” Logan had kept his voice so low, it was unlikely even Remus, the closest to the pair, could hear them.
    “My meds would be great, but I don’t want them to see me in my braces. I’ll put them on before I go to sleep.” Logan pinched his face up, but with the benefit of being exceptionally tall, he also had a far longer reach than most, which meant he easily grabbed Kai’s bag, handing it to him.
     “These people are your friends, you know. They wouldn’t mind you wearing something to make you more comfortable. It’s not embarrassing to show that your strength sometimes needs a little help.”
     “Don’t you mean it’s not embarrassing to show weakness?” Kai grumbled, sitting up.
    “Did I say it’s not embarrassing to show weakness? I don’t think I did. It’s horribly embarrassing to show weakness, I would know.” He grinned conspiratorially at Kai’s confusion, “Remus saw me cry like an infant less than 12 hours after meeting me. This,” Logan gestured at the braces and pills in Kai’s bag, ignoring the way Kai looked at him when he admitted that little tidbit of information, “this is not weakness. It is incredible, but vulnerable, strength. And there is no shame in them knowing that you are strong, even if you need braces to, as my acquaintance October would say, ‘kick someone’s ass’.” Kai turned slightly red, mumbled something about kicking his ass if he didn’t stop with the feelings, and pulled his wrist and hand braces out of his bag.
    Kai had eventually gone back to the floor, now trying and failing to flirt with a girl Logan didn’t know but thought might be named Lauren. Remus had moved closer to Logan, leaning against the couch and was occasionally making subdued quips about something ridiculous. Mostly just random facts or commentary on the things the group was doing.
    “Lo! What music do you listen to?” Roman was holding his phone, clearly looking for something to put on. Logan turned red, realizing that pretty much any song he enjoyed would not work with this crowd as it did with his usual acquaintances.
    “I.. don’t think any songs on my average playlist would be suitable for this particular group of people.”  Roman nodded, as if that made sense.
    “Ah, Logan likes that pg-13 music. Should have guessed that.” Logan rolled his eyes, but Roman put on Fall Out Boy with a smirk, and Logan shrugged.
    “My typical music tastes are a little more.. riot starting than this, but sure.” Roman raised an eyebrow at that comment, and then grinned in a way not unlike Remus’s smile, too wide, a little maniacal.
    “Logan Whatever-Your-Middle-Name-Is Starr I refuse to believe you have ever, once in your life been involved in a riot. You’re definitely a ‘Use Your Words’ kind of guy.”  Logan replied, without thinking, with the same joke his friend group made every time someone said they ‘seemed like the type to use their words.’
    “Urine Speaks Louder Than Words,” and then, as if they weren’t already the exact opposite of what the group expected, he followed it up with, “Besides, cops, Nazis, bigots, and assholes all respond better to being kicked in the face.” The chunk of the group who was listening all had wide eyes, but Remus was trying to hold back tears. He was laughing so hard he wasn’t making noise, just tiny, wheezing breaths every few seconds. “I uh... Mean... yes, certainly, a debate is the reasonable course of action to achieve our goals.”
    “Remind me to not piss you off.” Roman squeaked,  his cheeks and ears a little red. Logan, who was trying to avoid eye contact, took this as fear, and immediately went to assure Roman that he would not hurt him, but then somebody got the idea to play truth or dare, which Logan politely declined participation in, which mean of course he was now sitting in a circle on the floor playing.
    “Logan! Truth or Dare?” Dahlia asked with the slightly evil grin most of the group had when asking Logan or Roman to do anything. He had a feeling they were trying to accomplish something, though Logan could not for the life of him figure out what it was.
    “Oh, Dare, I suppose.” Logan shrugged. So far they had dared him to demonstrate his “Strength” by lifting Roman bridal style, had him recite Shakespearean sonnets dramatically, and sing “Fall for You” which was a little too emo for Logan, but several of the group seemed to know. The truths were far more awkward, like asking him his favorite eye color, which was brown, his sexuality, which was queer with no more specifics, if he had any crushes, which he had admitted he hadn’t thought about and did not have an answer for.
    “Let me do your makeup!” She demanded, already pulling a makeup bag from behind her.
    “That’s fine, I suppose. Are you planning on using foundation or eyeliner?” She nodded
    “Yeah, probably. I have some lighter foundation I use on Elliot sometimes.” Logan rolled his eyes, Grabbing his own bag.
    “That won't be necessary, we can use mine. I’m far paler than Elliot. And much cooler-toned, at that.” Roman was looking pink and starry-eyed again.
    “You.. you wear makeup?” He asked in a small voice.
    “Yes, I often wear foundation or concealer, and wear eyeliner regularly on weekends.” He gestured at his face, which now that Roman was looking at it closely, he could see that there was makeup there. Logan looked at Dahlia with a neutral expression. “Would you prefer I take mine off before you begin?” She nodded.
    He went into the washroom and removed his foundation, which left his dark circles and light freckles visible. He scrunched up his nose at his appearance before coming back into the living room, where Dahlia had turned the lights on in, and everyone had dismantled the truth or dare circle. “Are.. we no longer doing truth or dare?” Logan asked with a confused look around.
    “No, I think we’re just going to do makeovers now. All the straight boys are offended about it.” Dahlia grinned as Logan sat down. “Jesus, Lo, have you ever slept in your life? You look like Remus with those circles.” Logan rolled his eyes fondly, handing her his make-up, which was really just foundation, concealer, powder, and eyeliner. She got to work, walking him through what she was doing, though he had to admit he wasn’t paying much attention. Roman was getting his makeup done by Elliot, Remus was doing someone's makeup, but Logan hadn’t cared to remember their name. The night was domestic, a few more jokes about Logan’s comment, twenty minutes of laughter when Dahlia revealed Logan’s makeup and Roman choked on his drink, barely getting out an ‘it looks good’ before he left to get a shower and change to clean up after spitting orange soda into his lap. Logan had felt mostly embarrassed at that, not sure why Roman had had such a negative reaction in the first place. He thought the makeup was well done, though perhaps the red lips and dark blue glitter eyeshadow was a little more dramatic than he was used to. They watched movies until it was nearly light outside, which Logan complained about, only a little since he had plans in the morning, and when Logan left at 9 AM, picked up by Micheal, one of the seniors Logan hung out with most often, in the 1986 pick-up that was more rust than it was metal at this point,  he was in a relatively good mood.
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agreste-image · 4 years ago
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☕️ your classmates!
Well, this is going to get a little long, probably. I mean, there’s 14 other people.
In general, I like them all to a degree. Some I consider my best friends, some I’m just not close to, others are...
Not nice people.
We’ll just go for a paragraph per person. Skipping myself, obviously, I’m not my own classmate.
Soooo... Chloe, then. She manages to fall under both not a nice person and a best friend. Even I’m not really sure how. She can be kind when she wants to be, and she was my only friend for years. I hope I can help her be more of herself, not just a little platinum blonde echo of Audrey, because I think she’s struggling too.
Alya, I’d like to think, I’m kind of close to. Not as close as I could be, considering she’s dating one of my best friends. She’s a nice person, wayyyy too freaking brave, though. How many time have Ladybug and Chat Noir had to physically relocate her out of the danger zone of an akuma? I guess it’s kind of admirable, though, that she’s willing to do that for the sake of providing information to the public. Sometimes, though... she needs to do actual research... I’m definitely a huge part of that whole nightmare situation, though.
Her boyfriend, though. That’s Nino! You guys have probably seen me talk about him on here sometimes. He was the first one to actually give me a chance when I started going to public school, everyone else just assumed I was going to be like Chloe. He’s kinda my hero? All he knew about me was that I was friends with Chloe but all it took for him to decide to befriend me was watching me try and get gum off a seat. He knows what his goals are and he goes for them, though he does get pretty frustrated when things don’t go the way he hoped, but he’s quick to forgive other people when they mess up and damn I know that’s hard to do. He’s ALSO recklessly brave, like Alya... I thought I was going to have a heart attack when Anansi was a thing. Augh.
Sabrina is... weird. You’d think I’d know her a little more, given she’s always with Chloe, but I really don’t? I don’t know if I’ve ever spoken to her one on one. She’s eager to please Chloe, but I don’t think that extends to anyone else, not quite the same way. I know a lot of people feel bad for her because she basically acts as Chloe’s servant, but I, uh. Don’t? Obviously it’s not a good relationship, but I remember bits and pieces of the One Time Sabrina was partnered with Marinette and Chloe on a project, and Sabrina’s capable of being just as mean and manipulative as Chloe. She’s just more submissive, for some reason. I dunno.
Rose is like what I would be if I was incapable of truly recognizing the cruelties of people. It is SO strange. I’ve never seen anyone as optimistic and bubbly as her. I like being around her, but in small doses. She can be a little airheaded sometimes, which makes planning things with her just a bit of a headache, because she’s always so excited about everything...? Once you get it all ironed out fully, though, usually it’s okay. She’s not a planning person, definitely spontaneous, or at least that’s the impression I get. She’s the singer for a rock band, actually, Kitty Section. I play keyboard for them sometimes.
I feel like I have to talk about Juleka after Rose. They’re a pair- dating, maybe??- I almost never see one without the other. Juleka’s pretty opposite to Rose. Rose is bright and loud, Juleka’s dark and quiet. Short and tall, outgoing and shy, confident and too hard on herself. She wants to model, or did at one point, and I fully believe she’d go quite far if she put her mind to it, but she is so. Painfully. Shy. It’s nice to see her with Rose and her other friends because she’s not trying to curl in on herself and not be seen. Unfortunately, because of that shyness, I really don’t know her very well. I’ve made some attempts to get to know her better, but, ah, to get her to talk requires Rose’s presence, and third-wheeling is awkward.
Kim is... yeesh. Competition is fun, but life isn’t a competition!! You don’t have to constantly dare everyone to ridiculous things. Sometimes it’s fun, but my god, Kim, dial it back. I’ll give him this, he’s calmed that down somewhat in the last few years. but beyond that, I barely know the guy. I’ll admit, my most prominent memories of him usually involve akuma, so that probably makes me subtly wary, but those weren’t his fault. I should try and hang out with him sometime, really, and actually get to know him.
I don’t know Ivan very well either. He’s quiet, seems grumpy a lot of the time, but I think that’s just his default expression. He and Mylene seem very happy together, which is. Surprising to me. Mostly because of how they got together. I know he’s ridiculously honest, I’ve seen him try to lie and it was... so embarrassing to watch. I should try spending time with him as well.
Max I’ve been around, but again, am not super close to. I’ll be perfectly honest, his intelligence is a little intimidating at times, while occasionally making things awkward when he takes stuff too seriously. But, wow, he made Markov. Who I would count as a classmate if he was able to participate, but he’s not, at the moment he’s... well, not recognized as a person, legally, yet. 
Alix is always the one taking Kim up on his dares. Usually, her conditions are that he stop making dares, which makes me laugh. She’s very comfortable and confident with who she is and doesn’t ever seem afraid to speak her mind, which does lead to some fights when she won’t admit she was in the wrong for a little while. She comes around, though. I admire that, and yet again, I realize I should probably try to spend more time with her.
Mylene, poor girl, she’s such a scaredy-cat. I’ve literally seen her jump at her own shadow before. From what I’ve been able to gather, she’s a very caring, kind person who will always do her best to help others, even when she’s on the verge of tears from how frightened she is. I wish I could help her with that, but I don’t want to give her a heart attack by approaching her. (She seems pretty easily distracted at times.) I think she could be an actress, if she wanted to be. She’s not half bad at it.
Nathaniel is a VERY talented artist, and I’ve encouraged him multiple times to at least consider doing it as a career, or side-job, at least. He’s shy about it, especially after Evillustrator regarding himself and Reverser with Marc (another class), but he’s been working off and on with Marc on a small series of comics. I swear, he never puts the pencil down, and I don’t ever want to interrupt him while he’s in the zone, so he’s another one I’ve mostly observed, but would like to know better.
Marinette. Where to begin with her? I can easily describe her as our everyday Ladybug. She’s a wonderful girl, always taking the lead, doing her best to help everyone within reason and not backing down when threatened. She’s gotten the attention of celebrities, for crying out loud, my own father and Audrey Bourgeois and Jagged Stone all acknowledged her talents and that makes me unbelievably proud of her. Sure, she...may not have been able to get a proper sentence out around me for a few years, and sometimes we don’t even say anything, but that’s alright. I know the reason behind it, even if I can’t do anything with that information, and I understand that feeling. Being around her is comfortable. But I don’t know her as well as I’d like to. I wish I could ask without making things potentially weird. Besides, she’s almost as busy as I am. Class rep, clothing design, helping with her parents bakery, helping all of her friends. Our schedules almost never line up, I think...
...Lila. I put off talking about her as long as I could, and that turned out to be a good few hours as I slowly answered this ask. She breathes lies that can be unraveled with the slightest bit of research, but nobody ever DOES and it infuriates me to no end. Lila made me regret being kind and giving her repeated second chances because my refusal to tell someone about the lies I caught her in got Marinette temporarily expelled and ostracized, and I’ll never forgive myself for my part in that. I have to be around her that much more than anyone else because of course she somehow managed to get Father’s attention and started modelling with me because for some goddamn reason she wants to be around me for some fame to rub off on her. Or wants me. One of the two. I legitimately hate every second I’m near her.
That should be everyone in my class other than my teachers. I realize, reading back over it, that I don’t know most of them too well, which makes me feel a little bad, but hopefully I can correct that. 
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diveronarpg · 4 years ago
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Congratulations, LIA! You’ve been accepted for the role of OLIVIA. Admin Julie: It’s always a delight to see you in our inbox, Lia -- imagine our joy when we saw you’d returned to us in the shape of our favorite sparrow, Omi! It’s been some time since we had her in play, which is a shame, because she’s one of our personal favorites. But you’ve pinned everything about Omi down to a T, from their characteristic skill and allure in trapping others with a few words and sharp gaze, to the way they’re wound around Verona’s fingers and don’t seem to realize... or choose not to. You’ve enthralled us once again, and we cannot wait to have you back on the dashboard and knee-deep in the chaos with Omi in your hands. Please review the CHECKLIST and send your account in within 24 hours. 
WELCOME TO THE MOB.
OUT OF CHARACTER
Alias | Lia.
Age | 22
Pronouns | She/Her/Hers
Activity Level | I’m about to start my summer program, but since I’m only in class three days during next semester on online, I imagine I’ll have plenty of freetime. But knowing me, I’ll most likely log on every few days to knock out a few replies.
Timezone | EST (PST in two months (~:)
How did you find the rp?  | The tag a few centuries ago.
Current/Past RP Accounts | honestly, all of my best characters were in DV :/ All 17 of them
IN CHARACTER
Character | Olivia AKA Yamamoto Omi
What drew you to this character? |
Omi is a character I’ve eyeballed during my time at DV, but someone I’ve never quite had the nerve to apply for. But it is the qualities that I initially shied away from that have inspired me to apply for them this time around. Even upon searching the origin of Omi’s name, I was fascinated by the worldliness and elusiveness it implied about their character.  I came across two definitions, both of which I believe represented her character accurately:
1. OMI— magnificent; the sound of the universe
She is a walking contradiction— the product of love and violence— never truly lacking in either aspect within her lifetime. Maybe that is why she finally found community and comfort within Verona after venturing all over the world. As much as she might hate to admit, this very love and violence is what she’s comfortable with— it’s how she’s learned to thrive and survive. Though they never truly felt like themselves as they ventured around the world, they kept small pieces of each place they visited, all of which have made them into the Sparrow, the performer, that they are today. This is why I began viewing Omi as the sound of the universe. Vast and immeasurable, and not quite able to pinpoint to a single source. She is representative of an assembly of realities. She is never quite the same with each person she encounters, with them only receiving a snapshot or illustration of who she is, with the people she’s closest to receiving the most authentic parts of herself. To be a Sparrow is to participate— in Omi’s opinion— in one of the most precise crafts— an art form that only a select number can master. It is a performance, one in which they give their entirety to, oftentimes to the point that they sense themself slipping away, forgoing what they thought to be their true self and instead opting for the persona they have created. Somehow, being Omi the Sparrow is a far less difficult reality for her to face. What is expected of her is straightforward, her desires and fulfillment never changing very much. Omi the Sparrow always gets what she wants. Their heart is unbreakable, yet shared with everyone they encounter. The power and agency can be detected in her words, her mannerisms— she is completely sure of herself, and what she represents. But Omi— just plain Omi, questions herself constantly. She desires to be seen more than anything but is hesitant to show herself to another person. The weight of the secrets of others sometimes threatens to topple her over. What would their patrons think of their constant doubt? This was something they would never discover because she values her position more than she doubts herself. She loves luxury and security more than she questions who she is and who she’s become. She thrives in this simplistic power far more than she finds herself succumbing to it. And this leads me to what I love most about Omi. Her position allows her to wield a form of power that isn’t flashy or overt, or as obvious and clear cut as many people within the mob. It is subtle and it is dangerous. It is a power you least expect, which will certainly make her someone to look out for within the Verona. It is a power that she does not quite comprehend the magnitude and weight of as of now, but something I hope to develop over time.
What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |
MONA— Their saving grace. There are seldom things Mona could do that would lessen the admiration that Omi holds for her, as this is the woman who they believed to have saved them, to introduce them to the boundless and limitless potential that they had. She did not introduce anything that was not there but instead nurtured the qualities that Omi already possessed for her to become one of the best, if not the best Sparrow that has glided through the various rooms and crannies of The Dark Lady thus far. Omi looks upon Mona as a big sister and is always aiming to please her, whether she recognizes that she’s actively doing so or not. But she is bound to cross her eventually— whether it is slight or monumental, and I believe Omi temporarily or permanently (dear lord idk if I could handle Mona not loving them pls sotkgoerkgose) falling from their grace would be an interesting concept to explore. So much of her existence is tied to Mona’s, and I think that it would take something like that occurring for her to recognize this. Who exactly would she be without Mona rescuing her? Would she have survived a day in the city without her? Having Omi deal with being without Mona would introduce some harsh truths. Could they truly rely on themself? Though she adamantly expresses her desire not to be possessed, is it that she truly enjoys being subjected to the whims of another person, so as long she is given the autonomy, luxury, and ability to wield some form of power? Would she simply be transferred from the hands of one power player to another, seeking out one of the mobs knowing they were the only other people who could give her what she truly desired?
FRIENDS ON THE OTHER SIDE— In the short time that Omi has spent in Verona, she’s acquired quite a few patrons from various walks of Veronesi royalty, but as much as she’s done her best to keep people at a distance, she’s also made a few friends. Chiko— whose hopes and dreams she’s carried with her since childhood— with them being one of the sole people to know Omi to near entirety. Felipe— the man who made her realize that even ghosts were capable of creating trouble for themselves, who she’d dared to offer real information about herself for whatever reason, finding something odd and compelling about the handsome enigma before her. Calina— their true match of wits, words, and worldliness— the person in which she’s entrusted with not just her fears and shortcomings, but her hopes and dreams, as well as them being that very person to set her heart aflutter. All of these people have something in common. In some shape or form, they are familiar with more than just Omi the Sparrow. I wonder what danger this could pose for her in the future. Would it be the person they are in essence that would land her in trouble? Chiko, the ruthless social climber, Felipe, who they knew trouble was always a short distance behind, and Calina, whose ties with the mob could only naturally come with trouble… couldn’t they? I want Omi to eventually land in some more trouble (maybe this could be something intertwined with my first plot, or potentially something entirely unrelated), and truly test how far she’s willing to go for the friendships she hopes to keep. Maybe it has to do with some information told to her in confidence; information she almost feels obligated to share with Mona. Will she refuse to do so, at the risk of the life and livelihood that she’s created for herself?
LOOSE ENDS— The past will always be the past for Omi— unless that past happened to make an appearance in the city of Verona. This isn’t something they would expect to occur, given that they have two dead parents, no siblings, or any known extended family. Maybe this would come in the form of Chiko— maybe some other unknown source would manage to dig up some sort of information to potentially be used against them. Regardless, I want Omi to be confronted with her past life, and for her to realize that the horror will always be apart of her, no matter how long that she’s attempted to evade it.
Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes, but I think I would miss her more than any of my other characters ngl :(
IN DEPTH
In-Character Para Sample:
tw: mentions of death and violence
In The Dark Lady, Omi transformed into a blossom tinted mirror in which men and women alike looked upon in order to divest the realities they so desired. This functioned the similarity to a rose-tinted glass, their very persona the result of a thousand borrowed realities. In Omi, they sought the best version of themselves. They had the ability to morph into everything their patrons wanted, yet could not own, making them all the more desirable. There was something especially tantalizing about what appeared to be accessible, but ever so slightly out of a person’s reach. Even if the reality of things were that there was no chance in hell. Even if there had been a burgeoning disgust for each and every one of the wealthy, and corrupt person they encountered. Even if she’d been unable to scour away their caress no matter how many showers she subjected herself to in the early hours of the morning. How effortlessly she’d sold them a dream. How effortlessly they’d become enamored with The Dark Lady’s very own Japanese Cherry Blossom, a hand-picked artifact from Sakura to enjoy in their very own Verona. She bartered away a fantasy, and in exchange they fed her in secrets, each whisper only intensifying her power and allure. No amount of repulsion would change that they were damn good at their job. No amount of repulsion would change that she’d finally found where they’d belong.
They were notorious for their collection of extremely high heels, and rumor had it that not even a misstep had occurred in a single pair of them. Eyes danced over her as she glided into the casino, garnering an especially large crowd probably because of the fresh pixie cut she’d been sporting. Some days, Omi would linger, never quite sure whose attention she’d capture that day, but on other days, her presence had been requested by a specific patron. Today’s patron had been of particular importance. A well known Italian bureaucrat she’d actually managed to find rather endearing at times, despite her suspicion that he’d been spending more time with her than his own family. Nevermind that though. They had a sneaking suspicion that they were only moments away from stumbling upon a goldmine of information. They reckoned that this particular information could potentially make not just Mona, but both mobs particularly happy. Soon as they’d reached the Blackjack table, the patron, Patron E, swept her merrily into his arms, spinning her in place, resulting in her delighted laughter, clutching onto his shoulders to maintain her balance. Once he’d gotten his fill, she carefully placed a single kiss on each of his cheeks, taking in the scent of whiskey on his lips. No wonder he’d been especially playful. The whiskey had only begun their job for them. “Why, if it isn’t the most lovely person in all of Verona,” Patron E stated, grinning ear to ear. “I absolutely adored your old hair, bella, but with this cut, you somehow managed to become even more magnificent."
She smiles coyly, hands traveling down the lengths of his arms until meeting his hands, which he brought promptly to his lips for a kiss. "I was feeling spontaneous, E, but knowing you like it lifted a significant weight off my shoulder. Everyone else’s opinion be damned, but yours has always meant the world to me,” they coo in flawless Italian. “Is there anything else you noticed?"
His eyes drank her in hungrily, almost hungrier than usual, before returning to her eye level. "You’re wearing my good luck charm,” he responded with an almost childlike euphoria. Patron E had been referring to the deep V-Neck Dolce & Gabbana gown that had been purchased for her by another Patron of hers— Q— with the jet black of her hair only accentuating the Black sequins of the gown. She took it upon herself to take his hand and lift it above the both of them, completing a graceful, yet playful twirl to show off every sparkle and curve of the length of her body.
“Is that so?” she mused with her head tilted curiously on an axis. “It’s almost as if I wore especially for you, mio callo. You did tell me tonight was a big night for you, after all.”  His eyes twinkled gratefully as he pulled out a seat for her at the blackjack table, settling into the seat next to him, her body positioned perpendicularly to his, taking absolutely no interest in the game before them. It had been a game she’d witnessed by the side of many men before him and would witness many men after him. Her knees were pressed against his thigh, with the leg closest to the table occasionally finding itself absentmindedly caressing his own. One hand consistently remained attached his shoulder, with their other hand assisting them in the delivery of their sweet nothings, cupping his ear to whisper everything he’d ever wished to discover. Together they laughed, flirted, and whispered— he drank and she carefully sipped, until the game finally came to a close, with him losing per usual. After that, the pair of them moved to a more intimate section of The Dark Lady, the place in which Omi would officially make her move for the information she sought. There he sat on the couch, with her comfortably positioned horizontally in his lap, her slender legs coiled around her legs, with her hand absentmindedly stroking his hair. She’d been telling him some story she’d invented ages ago, half-truths tumbling effortlessly from her lips as she illustrated her last days in Sakura. Once she was done, she began studying his features intently.
“See anything you like?” he asks her quietly, and she cups his chin before deciding he’d been worthy of an answer.
“I see something I like, but something different,” she began with faux perplexion. “Even beneath this red light, I can sense the excitement almost vibrating off of you. “It suits you. I wish you were always this happy when you saw me. Far less tense than usual.”
“Now, Omi, you know I feel most like myself when I’m with you. You always receive the best parts of me,” he says seriously as his hand cups her wrist. “But, to tell you the truth, I’ve come across some very good fortune. A good fortune that I believe will alter the trajectory of my life. I’ve struck a life-changing deal.”
“That’s amazing! I couldn’t be happier for you!” she exclaims softly, before falling into a demure pout. “This… deal won’t take you away from me now, will it?”
He chuckles at her pout as if him parting from her would truly be the most unfortunate occurrence in her 30 years of life. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a thing, Tesoro. The deal I’ve made has allowed me to acquire a large sum of money. And I have no plans of parting from you anytime soon.”
She smiles gratefully, yet sadly as if she can’t believe it. He looks at her, searching for an answer to her sadness. “What is it, il mio amore? Why do you look so blue?”
At that moment— the slightest pang of sadness sped through her. How effortlessly he had succumbed to her charm, to the point that she’d almost felt bad for the fool. “Well… the way you aren’t giving much information about the deal is only forcing me to draw my own conclusions. Ones in which I can’t help but assume that you’ve been put in a dangerous predicament, which is stopping you from telling because you’re afraid to get me into trouble.” He drew her closely, placing a soft kiss on each of her temples, then her forehead, then her lips.
“I wouldn’t let them harm a hair on your head, Omi. I hope you know that I mean that.” She resisted chuckling. She’d been nearly divinely protected. If anything it was him who wouldn’t be able to harm a hair on her head.
“Is this them you speak of…” she looks around carefully, knowing there was no one near, but doing it as if to accentuate her supposed fear. “The government…?” she offers him, and when he does not react, she places a long, lacquered pinky nail upon her lip. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten yourself mixed up with one of the mobs, E—”
“Mixed up with the mobs?” he interrupts with a haughty chuckle. “Why, they’ve gotten themselves mixed up with me, dearest Omi. Sooner rather than later, both the Capulets and the Montagues will be feeding out of the palm of my hand.” How drunk had the man had to have been to have confessed such a silly sentiment? Or was it not the liquor at all, and simply Omi bearing witness to the limitless bounds of the male ego? Probably a mixture of both.
She shoves his shoulder gently, feigning shock. “You’ve either done something insanely brilliant or incredibly stupid. But I’ve always known you to be far too clever for the latter.”
With each curious caress, they’d managed to extract more and more information from their subject, his ego centering itself above all else— even his desire to live. He had to have known that, hadn’t he? Or had he simply been too foolish to even consider the danger he’d been putting himself in by leaving every detail of his plan upon Omi’s lips? How foolish he had beenShe shoves his shoulder gently, feigning shock. “You’ve either done something insanely brilliant or incredibly stupid. But I’ve always known you to be far too clever for the latter.”
“Someday…” he slurs, faced resting comfortably on her chest as she stroked the top of his head, his arms wrapped lovingly around her waist. “I’m gonna whisk you away. And just like that, you’ll be mine. Forever and always.”
Omi chuckles at this sentiment— ones she’s heard nearly a dozen times before. She’d had no desire to be one of his pretty things, not by him or any other person in this world for that matter.
“Why, E— I know if that were to occur, you’d be doomed to break my heart.” “Omi, you can’t truly believe that now… can you?” he says tilting his head upwards until their lips are only mere inches apart.
“I’m afraid I do, mi caro. Because the moment in which the magic begins to dwindle from your eyes when you look at me is the moment my heart is sure to break. I know that if we continue our occasional rendezvous that I’ll continue to be the loveliest I could be in your eyes. Oh— and I’m a terribly loud snorer. You wouldn’t sleep a minute in my presence.”
That had been enough to satisfy him, if only for a single moment. The very thought of him truly breaking her heart had been absurd, but the very thought of the blossom mirror cracking, the idea of her carefully constructed persona being exposed for being exactly that, alarmed her. Anything short of near perfection was unacceptable. She owed her to that and Mona. It would be at that moment that Omi would understand that she was no longer as good at her job as she needed to be. Surely that would not leave them desolate, they would still be a top-performing Sparrow after all. But they would no longer be the best, and no man or woman would ever take that away from them. Even if they meant keeping the majority of the world at a safe distance. Not when they’d finally found their people. Not when they’d finally answered their calling. Not when Verona was finally starting to feel like home.
Little did she know that this would be the last time she’d ever see Patron E. Just as she’d suspected, the information had been of immense value. Her reputation as the top Sparrow only increased tenfold, and she remained in Mona’s good graces, never tiring of her constant praise and doting. Word of his death returned to them from another one of their patrons even before it appeared even in the papers. Omi couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness for his widow and children. No woman and family should have their livelihood threatened by the likes of a stupid, stupid, stupid man.
She did not wear Q’s dress after that day. When she asked about it the next time he saw her, she began whispering a delightful tale about how her suitcase had mysteriously wound up missing upon returning from a brief trip to Paris, knowing she’d wind up with a new one before the conversation concluded…
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simmeredsalmon · 5 years ago
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idk if requests are /officially/ open, but could i request sanemi blurb w some fluff. i love this babe so much istg-
they’re definitely open, thanks so much for the req!! i went hard on this one but that’s only because sanemi loves you so much…
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As the Star Pillar, there’s no dismissing your strength—or the imposing presence you give off. Affable and charming, you’re adored by your peers (but perhaps the lower rankings more so).
But everyone easily agrees that Sanemi is attached to you the most. Even if he doesn’t always outwardly display his affections, it’s lucid he’s fond of you; especially when he shares portions of ohagi with a neutral expression or chases after you when you’re injured to confirm for himself that you’re alright.
Yet Sanemi never could pinpoint whether these ‘secret’ feelings he harbored were reciprocated or not, but a twinge of hope flourished in his chest when you asked, “Sanemi-san, if you’re willing… would you like to accompany me to a festival in my hometown? I already got permission from Oyakata-sama for my absence, as well as yours!”
Sanemi could clearly see the wishful hues swimming in your eyes, and he only truly accepted after reaffirming his prefecture was well taken care of and that you’d both be alerted immediately of trouble. When Sanemi told you he’d be coming along, he swore he never seen your face lit up as much as then.
It was thrilling to visit your roots; also exulting as you didn’t ask anyone but him to take part with you.
On the way there, Sanemi questioned you about your hometown and the traditions of the festival. Of course he was only met with aloof remarks about ‘waiting until you got there’.
When you arrived, your family ecstatically welcomed you, proclaiming they were worried you weren’t going to make it!
“Oh, is this Shinazugawa-sama? We’ve heard so much about you in her letters!” your mother gushed, giving him a bow. “We’re [first name]’s parents.“
“Letters?” Sanemi iterates, turning his head towards you for clarification.
Your complexion flushes and you’re visibly flustered, having assumed he’d have of skipped over that tidbit of information. “N-Never mind that! Where’s my sister?”
And that’s also how he learned you had a little sister, around Genya’s age, too. You had kept that aspect similarly hidden, but for differing reasons.
Your hometown was lavished with history of night-related worship; believing in the primordial god of darkness—which, at first glance, seemed out-of-place.
“After my childhood friend died, I realized that I wanted to take the night back from demons. Nighttime is my origin, my family’s; I don’t want anyone wrongfully stealing that anymore,” you explained softly, scrutinizing how Sanemi soaked in your words. “But I didn’t bring you along to only talk about that. I’m also this town’s priestess, so I wanted you to see me in action… a different way than normally.”
Traditionally, your town held a festival that started at sunset and climaxed at midnight. The activities continued until sunrise, but the main event of a dance began at exactly midnight. Usually, the priestess would be the one to dance… but you wanted to give that gift to your little sister who loved dancing. Rather, you’d participate in the musical aspect on the flute.
Sanemi couldn’t disprove the appreciation he felt at your sacrifice of customs (which were, clearly, important to you) for your younger sister.
“Come, Sanemi-san, I’ll show you to my home. We’ve prepared an outfit befitting the festivities for you.” And Sanemi went along, gazing at the ornate decorations beginning to adorn your quaint town until he reached your abode.
After he got changed, Sanemi simply waited for you to be finished as well. And, well, when you ambled out… he was immediately enraptured. Bewitching was surely an understatement, with how your hair was done-up and how the equally resplendent kimono tautly fitted your form.
With a pensive note in his voice, Sanemi praised you, “You look beautiful, [last name].”
“Oh my, should you be saying that about a priestess?” you teased lightly, before adding on, “Thank you, Sanemi-san. I don’t want to be treated like one by you, really.”
Your vague words left room for interpretation, but before Sanemi could press further, your parents came inside to beckon you both out onto the streets to enjoy the festival.
As you left your home, the skeins of sunset illuminated every crevice in gorgeous color; evoking a nostalgic and captivating feeling.
When you twined your arm around Sanemi’s, he almost froze. He wasn’t expecting you, someone who just joked about their status in the town, to unabashedly link arms. He wasn’t complaining, mind you.
You blithely guided him around, the gentle and pale lights from lanterns growing more and more prominent as time passed.
The two of you often got questionable remarks on marriage, the folks who watched you grow up surprised at your authority with a man, and whenever you found yourself overheating from it all, you’d suddenly suggest a trip to gather shaved ice.
“Again? Are you sure you’re not getting a fever?” Sanemi naively (or so you thought) asked, although he was somehow still willing to eat his third helping of strawberry-flavored ice.
Delicately situating yourself on a bench, while patting the seat beside you, you helplessly shovelled a spoonful into your mouth. Your one inelegant habit was your pleasure for anything sweet, and you could become greedy with it.
But that was also something Sanemi found endearing. If there’s anything he made note of tonight, it was that you were comfortable with him—you didn’t feel judged, hence why you were able to shamelessly eat.
“Is a priestess suppose to get married before a certain age?” He nonchalantly brought the topic up, having grown weary of the incessant comments from everyone.
You shook your head. “Not necessarily. The title is more relaxed than that since I’m mostly in-charge of looking after the well-being of dreams, I suppose. Repelling bad energy so that everyone can achieve what they want… or sleep peacefully during the day. It’s truly a system that originates purely from my ancestors.”
“What about you? Who helps you with your dreams?” Sanemi’s question almost sounded silly, but it wasn’t. He knew you alone were in charge of that… yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were also subtly hinting at him.
There was a short moment of silence, before you pursed your lips together and shyly said, “You?”
“Answering a question with a question is unbecoming of a priestess,” Sanemi smoothly declared, his heartrate bursting. “And that’s why everyone’s bugging you? Because you want to marry me?”
“E-Eh? Where did you get marriage from what I said, may I ask?!” you stammered out, flummox and embarrassment melding together within your chest.
“I originally asked about marriage, dummy.” Sanemi tricked you, didn’t he?
Bringing a hand to your cheek, praying the frigidity of holding a cold cup would cling to your fingertips and alleviate the warmth, you confessed, “I have talked about you in my letters back home, but never did I mention marrying you.”
You thought you weren’t being obvious, but you were. In how your overall posture exuded yearning and bashfulness, it was pretty clear to him that you didn’t view him as only a fellow Pillar. That’s what his instincts were telling him, and he wasn’t wrong more times than right.
“Would you marry me?”
The question made your heart palpitate, the white-hot sensation following your leaping heart suffused through you so quickly it almost made your head spin. “In a hypothetical situation where you would have me, I would,” you admitted as boldly as you could.
Sanemi made you so comfortable that the grace embedded so deeply in you felt fleeting.
With red dotting the outlines of his cheeks, Sanemi brought his hand forward and placed it over your own. “I’ll help you with all your dreams than. None of this hypothetical bullshit, I will.”
Incapable of suppressing your smile, you coyly locked your fingers between his; adoring the scars and callouses rubbing against your skin in the process. “It’s a promise. If you break it, I’ll use my priestess powers to curse you!”
“Oh, shut up! You said it yourself you didn’t want to be treated that way by me,” Sanemi retorted, his lips kissing the corner of your mouth. The hot breaths emitted from his parted lips fanned across your lips shortly, but he pulled away—still as serious as he was before. “But I’ll accept any curse. As long as you don’t leave my side.”
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har-rison-s · 6 years ago
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Opposites
Request: hi, darling! i’m just wondering if i could request some freddie fluff where he ends up falling for innocent reader, someone completely different from his scene.
A/N: Oh my goodness, I LOVE this idea. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. Hope you like how I've written it out, love :))
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Her family was well-known in London. They were aristocrates through generations, the family name, money and properties being the legacy for every new-born. Most of the family were men, and males were the common gender for the children born in the Montgomery family, but, come the end of the 1940s, and and many girls were born, including a special one named Y/N.
It's not a surprise that a girl is born, the mother and all other relatives being very happy with another soon-to-be leading woman being born. There just hasn't been a girl born since the nineteenth century, and it might be harder to adjust to a small girl running around business places and mansions. Sometimes the press get too hard on her, but all in all, she's fine living her aristocratic and rich life.
There's money, property, opportunities and attention in every direction pointed at her, but everything's really blank. Y/N feels like people think she's shallow, just like most of the people in her family, but she'd be willing to prove them wrong anytime. If her family allowed it.
She's always wearing skirts and blouses in strict measurements, having her hair done neatly and without a strand falling down. Y/N was taught to speak what you'd call the posh way, polite, understandable, and that's what she does. She was never late, always the best and brightest, the most beautiful and quiet one. Everyone liked her in the private school, she always won diplomas and certificates for her good grades, participating in social events and organisations. Teachers loved her and her university professors love her now. She's the practical princess of London's University, and her previous schools. 
What Mr and Mrs Montgomery would think if they found out that the up-coming rockstar called Freddie Mercury has fallen in love with their daughter, the promising soon-to-be business woman of 1970s London, would scare the singer right off. Or so they'd like to think. Freddie Mercury was not afraid of anything, not of showing his feelings and not afraid to show them. He just didn't tell Brian that he was hopelessly in love with a girl he follows around in his university.
A young man with dreams of becoming a pop star, coming from a working-class zoroastrian family plus an aristocratic business family girl that has her life figured out until the last day? That'd be outrageous. Imagine the newspaper articles! What would people say? It'd surely be in the news because her last name is one of the most popular ones in London, business and finances. A wedding would be the center of everyone's attention.
When he finally does meet her, their conversation is lovely, more than what Freddie would have hoped for. “Hello, sweetheart.” He says to her, approaching her at the university's library. She sits at a desk, reading a book on how to understand laws and court better. Her hair is swept up in a perfect bun and from the long hours already spent in the library, a few strands have fallen out around her cheeks and at the top of the bun. 
She's wearing a white blouse, the first few buttons undone due to the spring weather condition—it's almost twenty degrees in the air. The delicate wrist of her right hand is adorned by a thin-strapped watch and the index finger of that same right hand is decorated by a silver ring with a white gem. It probably costs a thousand pounds or more, Freddie thinks, raising his eyebrows.
Y/N turns her head to the speaker and smiles when she sees that it's the vibrant young man she's seen around school with the tall astrophysicist. He's way more extroverted than his science friend, and dresses in pretty and decorative clothing, also styling necklaces, earrings, bracelets, rings and painted nails. She loves how he dresses, but she won't admit it to anyone.
“Hello.” Y/N responds and puts her book down, placing a postcard from Italy in between the pages and closing it. “What are you doing here?” He doesn't go here, she knows that well. He studies design in another university, she's heard that from girls and boys around the campus. What would he be doing in her university's library? Maybe his university isn't big enough in repertoire.
The design boy shrugs and takes a seat next to her at the table. Y/N watches him, his hair hanging around his well-framed face as he gets comfortable in the chair. It's beautiful, really, the dark shade of his hair matches the colour and look of his eyes. “Looking for new acquaintances.” He replies and finally looks at Y/N. He almost loses his breath. He's never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. 
“At a regular university?” Y/N asks and chuckles. He smiles, but looks down, acting a bit shy. 
“You never know what you might find, even here,” he answers, “how is the studying going?”
Y/N shrugs. “It's alright. I'm not really studying anymore, just a bit of light reading.” She tells him. Freddie eyes the cover of the book and nods. 
“Are you going to be a lawyer? A judge?” He questions and Y/N immediately shakes her head, her beautiful bright eyes looking away from his. 
“This is just one of the books that I need for my future.” She says and sighs. She thinks for a moment about her own life, and he watches her as she does so. Y/N then huffs and looks back at the interesting stranger. She smiles wide. Someone interesting is talking to her, and she finds it great. “What's your name?” She asks and takes Freddie's hand between her elegant fingers. She traces them over all the bracelets and rings and notices the painted nails once again.
“Freddie.” He answers and Y/N looks up at him. 
“Freddie?” She echoes and the owner nods. Y/N smiles wide. “I think your name matches your persona.”
Freddie nods with a smile. “That's what I was going for.” He answers and the youngsters both chuckle quietly. “What's your name?” Freddie asks and his tone seems shy. Y/N watches him in thought, tilting her head to the side. She's trying to understand him, see him through his eyes. But he's so mysterious.
“It's Y/N.” She answers. “Nice to meet you, Freddie.” She smiles at him and they shake hands, which makes the both of them chuckle. “I like your nails. Do you paint them yourself?”
“Brian or Roger aren't any good at nail painting, so I have to do the honor.” Freddie answers and proudly leans up, his shoulders broad. Y/N nods and chuckles again. 
“Your friends?” She asks about the foreign names. Freddie nods.
“Band-mates, too.” He says. Y/N raises her eyebrows.
“You're in a band? That's exciting.” She admits and watches Freddie. She wonders what else lies behind the mystical character of this young man Freddie. 
“I'd say you weren't really the girl to come to shows,” Freddie starts and Y/N raises an eyebrow, “but would you like to see us sometime?”
Y/N looks away from Freddie and looks at her own hands. She draws in a deep breath and a nervous chuckle leaves her lips. “I—I can't, uh, be seen at pubs or—”
Freddie interrupts her with a shake of his head. He understands what she's worried about from her nervous facial expression and sudden fumbling of hands. “It's alright,” he places his hand over hers and makes Y/N look at him, “I understand, darling.”
Y/N nods and gives a thankful smile to Freddie. He falls in love with her even more in that moment, how she looks at him almost trustingly. A look of 'thank you' on her beautiful, delicate features. Afraid of being who she is. 
“Can you do... coffee, maybe?” Freddie asks quietly. Y/N chuckles, her head hanging down. She's so beautiful. 
“I could do that.” She answers. “Though I can't promise I won't be studying during our meeting.” Freddie raises his eyebrows and tilts his head from side to side, and Y/N smiles shyly. 
“It works for me, pretty girl.” Freddie says, nodding. Y/N chuckles at the nickname and blushes. He's making her blush, and it boosts his grand ego even more. 
“Does tomorrow at 5 work, too?” She asks.
“Yes. I'll be waiting for you at the entrance door.” He says and Y/N nods in response.
He left the library soon after, a wide smile on his face. The thought of having a date with the most beautiful girl has lifted him seven feet off the ground, and he can barely walk. But Freddie keeps his confident posture as he walks through the university's hallway until he finds the room Brian usually exploits for his late-at-night studying sessions. It's not really late, but Brian has some spare time to do extra studying. Freddie's not sure if he'll tell Brian about the girl that makes him feel like flying off the ground, but he knows that Brian will notice a difference in his behavior.
Y/N restarts to read her book on laws and justice, but can't help thinking of the so-wondrous Freddie who just talked with her. Why would someone so interesting and mesmerizing ever want to talk to her? She doesn't give off an interesting or mysterious feeling, the feeling that you have to work hard to figure her out. Everyone knows everything about her. But Freddie seems to be keen on talking with her and getting to know her, spending time with her. It's surprised her, but pleasantly. And she can't wait to talk to him properly, also hoping that she won't have any new projects or homeworks until 5pm tomorrow. That'd be one hell of a spoiler.
Permanent taglist:
@v0idbella @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths @one-taylor-one-vision@empressdreams @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @fvckyeahbenhardy 
Freddie taglist:
@lordofthebutterfliez
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final-fantasy-mama · 5 years ago
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Rimfire Bubble bath (ch.5)
OKKKKKKKkkkkkayyyyy so, Emet and Wol get into some risky bathtub business. No smut in this chapter but the next one will have explicit content. I am writing it in a separate chapter so those who dont want to read it can skip over it but still get some teasing from Emet in this chapter.
Normally I would insert a Amarout chapter here BUT i only have one more planned so ill save it for a bit later on down the story line. Enjoy!
FFXIV EMET SELCH X MCH WOL
“The tragedy that had befallen you is of your own making. Devine retribution for your defiance. The heavens have bequeathed to you a benevolent savior, me! I offer you freedom from pain and suffering, a paradise where man and sin eater might live in peace and harmony..” ~ Vauthry
The hero growled through clenched teeth with a rage that was uncharacteristic of her usual cool exterior. Right now, she just couldn’t hold it back. Her itching trigger finger reached for her musketoon with a arm that dripped with fresh blood from a shoulder wound gone undressed. Bullets flew from her gun at the dirigibles that flew overhead with Vauthrys guttural and all too arrogant voice coming over loudspeakers to castigate all the poor folk below who had managed to survive his sin eaters onslaught. She knew the bullets would not be of any avail but she prayed that one would find Vauthry’s heart and put an end to that bastard’s life. She kept firing until her bullets ran out and her arm throbbed with too much pain to keep the musket raised.
Around her, the moans and cries of injured Crystarium soldiers echoed in the night as they mourned for fallen friends and comrades. The attack was unwarranted, took them completely off guard and was meant to destabilize and demoralize them. It worked. Even Lyna, the Viera knight, was about to break into tears though she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt not to. It was going to be a long night of pain and tears for all them who had survived the evening’s bloodbath.
Someone’s hand reached for her Musketoon as another one gently wrapped around her waist, easing the rage out of her. Emet Selch had appeared at her side, gently taking her gun from her burning hands and whispering soft words into her ear. “You’re injured, inamorata. Relax….it is over.” Only with those words did she realize how much her lungs burned as she hyperventilated, her muscles locked up from adrenaline and sweat dripped from her brow. Like a tight coil she slowly unwound and Emet caught her in his arms, cradling her in his chest as he helped her to sit on the ground.
Her companions ran to and fro helping the injured, pausing slightly to stare at the Ascian and the hero together in a odd moment of intimacy, but having to put it out of their minds as injured soldiers took priority. “There is not much more you can do here tonight.” Emet pointed out.
“I can’t leave until everyone has been removed from the battlefield.” She said in a tired breathy voice.
“I would not expect you to.” Emet said. “But you are no worse for wear at the moment, so I will ever be watching you from the shadows. Whistle for me should you need me.” And with that he disappeared in a cloud of black aether.
*************************************************************
By the time the entire entourage returned to the Crystarium and the chirurgeons had their way with the hero, she had not the strength to even stand on her own. And so it was out of pity, sort of, that Emet Selch carried the exhausted Machinist back to her room in the pendants. She was scarcely conscious when the door to her room opened and he stepped inside with her in his arms, face buried in the side of his coat. Her bandaged shoulder was left oncovered with her white poet shirt draped around the rest of her for modesty’s sake. He set her down gently on the bed, stretching her out so she was straight on her back as he plucked off her antiquated boots and tried to make her more comfortable. She groaned from both pain and sheer fatigue.
“Hero, you need to bathe.” Emet said.
“Are you saying I smell bad?” She yawned.
“To put it gently, you smell like something that may have come out of Vauthry’s gullet.”
“Fuck you.”
There was a small pause.
“You’d find me a willing participant if that was what you desired.” He said in his charming seductive voice.
“Too tired to bother…”She groaned.
“Then allow me the pleasure of seeing you to a hot bath at the very least.” He snapped his fingers and a long claw footed tub appeared in the room along with a fluffy white robe hanging on a coat rack. She made some mangled noise in protest as he looked down at her. She was holding her arms out to him the way a pouty child might to a parent. It was unexpectedly adorable.
“I’m giving you permission to bathe me, nothing more. So no funny business.” She warned.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Yeah you would.”
“Only a little.” He admitted as he helped her stand up and walked her to the tub. She cleared her throat and motioned for him to turn around which he obliged, though not without a roll of his eyes and a loud sigh. Quickly stripping from her clothes and tossing them in a pile to the floor, she climbed into the water and drew her knees up to chest. Her shoulder stung but she managed to not gasp as the hot water caressed it.
“You can turn around now.” She said and he did just so, having a good look at her before taking off his heavy jacket and tossing it on the bed. Rolling up his sleeves, he knelt behind her and brushed her hair to one side, the tips of his fingers grazing her neck as she gasped.
“What are you…?”
“Hush!” he said sternly as he once again snapped his fingers and a bar of soap appeared in one hand, a small handled bucket in the other. He doused her with water as she cried out at the hot sudden sensation and then worked the soap into a lather in her hair. Working his fingers through her scalp thoroughly. She thanked the gods he was not facing her while he administered his ministrations, because she was dead sure her facial expression was nothing short of scandalous. She had never had anyone bathe her, so the sensation of being this pampered was wholly unknown and frankly it made the pit of her stomach tingle.
With her hair now rinsed and clean, Emet’s hands worked their way to her trapezius muscles and he gently pressed into them with his thumbs. She gasped in a way that was a tad embarrassing as her back arched involuntarily, head threw back and knees dropped below the water. Oh twelve have mercy she just exposed her whole front side the Ascian looking over her shoulders. Indeed, he saw the entire kit and kaboodle and his face told her he wasn’t displeased with what he saw. Her cheeks flushed and she quickly scrunched herself back up into ball and buried her face in her knees.
“You are so sensitive, my dear.” He teased.
“Shut up. I’ve never had a massage before.” She grunted.
“Never ever?”
“Who’s got time for that?”
“My my. This is a bit of a problem, if I can’t even touch you without you making such noises and faces.” He coo’d.
“Knock it off, Emet Selch. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”
“Let’s try something else then. As much as I would love to see more of your erotic expressions….” He moved positions to the side of the tub and took her hand in his. Then he began to rub the flesh around her palm and wrist, the areas where she held her gun and always chaffed or had callouses. She turned her face to side so she could watch him, the position less intimate so she felt more comfortable. Letting out a long sigh, she relaxed and let him massage up the length of her arm .
If she were any other women, she supposed she could take the Ascian to bed, indulge in her self desires, revel in passions of a one night stand. But she was never that type of person. In a sense it was frustrating how others could go through life consumed by their own desires and she could not. She was the warrior of light after all, someone was always going to need her to be at her best so she couldn’t take risks the way others could. She also had her little girl to think about. Come to think on it, Emet also had children in one point in time and she wondered if he had even enjoyed it or cared for his family. He outlived them all with the exception of Varis and Zenos, but it was obvious upon meeting them both that there was no love lost for their Great Grand Sire.
“You keep sighing.” Emet pointed out. “That usually means you have a question to ask or something pressing on your mind.”
“Its nothing.” She said sadly.
“Obviously not if you keep making faces like that.”
“I make a lot of strange faces, as you’ve already noticed.” She chuckled.
“You also keep many things to yourself.”
“No more so than you.”
“As an Ascian I am entitled to many secrets.”
“As a woman, I’m entitled to mine.”
“You’re not as tired as I thought if you can talk back like that.” He rolled his eyes and stood up quickly, however the lady refused to relinquish his hand and yanked him back sharply without thinking. His feet slipped out from under him on the wet floor and he came crashing down into the water on top of the hero. When he surfaced he had the warrior precariously pinned beneath him and hands on either side of her head gripping the tubs rim.
“Oh Hero.” He practically moaned as he gazed down at her. “You need only ask if you wished me to join you.”
She panicked and slapped her hands over his eyes so he couldn’t see anything. “You’ve got the wrong idea!”
“You were trying to drown me then?” He asked with hands still over his eyes.
“It was reflex! I wasn’t thinking!”
He pushed against her hands and swooped down till his face hovered over her collar bone. “So then you secretly want me oh so much you’re limbs act without reason?” His breath tickled her and she squirmed against the tub, pushing herself back against the porcelain as far as she could. His body weight on her legs kept her from being able to escape any further or jump out of the tub.
“I give you an inch and you take a bloody mile!” She complained and kept her hands firmly planted on his face and tried to push him back. Its was futile either way, he could easily overpower her if he wanted. Smarmy Ascian that he was though, he wasn’t going to let her go without a thorough teasing. “Wasn’t our agreement that you wouldn’t coerce or force me to do anything?”
“I am a man of my word. So far you have not said no or stop or tried to put a gun to my head or bullet through me.” He pointed out and pushed again to reach the hero’s neck where he planted a small kiss.
She saw stars for a moment and tried to get her wits about her. Just say NO, just say NO , Just say NO, she chanted in her mind but with each kiss he planted up her neck she felt her mind going more and more blank. If she didn’t figure out a way or excuse to get out of this, she would make love to him then and there and that would cause more problems than solve.
“I don’t see why you resist it so.” He breathed against her neck between kisses. “There is nothing wrong with indulging yourself once in a while. You deserve to have your needs met as much as any other creature.” He nipped at her jawline and she made a small noise. “What I am offering you is oh so simple. Pleasure. No hidden motives, no scheming, no lies, just simple pleasure for two weary souls long since denied any respite in this cruel and blasphemous world.”
The twelve be damned! He knew all the right words and just where to whisper them! And so reluctantly, against her better judgement she dropped her hands from his eyes. His yellow half lidded gaze was the end of her. She did want him the way any woman would want a man. She wanted to experience him and everything that he was despite him being an Ascian. Gods, it had been ages since she wanted anyone, felt anything for any man, and of all beings for her to lust after it had to be Emet Selch.
“The fates are undeniably cruel….”She conceded, something sad filling her eyes as she looked down for a moment but he caught her chin in his fingers and forced her to look up at him again.
“For tonight, it need not be. Lie with me.” He whispered.
She closed her eyes and felt herself slipping away, carried off by the currents of lust and longing. She took in a shaky breath and replied. “Yes….”
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complicatedandstained · 6 years ago
Text
The Other Day at Hot Topic: Heartless
“You’re giving me this look like I’m crazy.” Aqua’s kneeling next to a spilled box of accessories, trying to make all the mismatched objects fit again, so that they can be carted around and placed. She reminds Roxas vaguely of a young mom stealing her kid’s stuff for a garage sale.  
“Uh…yup.” Roxas has moved to stand beside her, with the intention of helping her out and getting some answers, god damn it, but now he’s not sure how to do either. The box is mostly full and he’s not entirely sure what he just heard Aqua and Vanitas discussing.  
A band? A video game? Creatures from the deep?
“I take it nobody told you about the Heartless yet,” she concludes with a light, knowing smile.
“Uh...nope?” Roxas agrees finally, picking up a Game of Thrones eye shadow palette that had slid over beside his foot and offering it to her. She smiles, and Roxas’ chest lightens a bit, relieved her anger has abated after his argument with that dick Vanitas, and she seems to be willing to give him a second chance. Mainly because dark Aqua had been the stuff nightmares are made of.
“They didn’t have you watch all the training videos?” 
Roxas shrugs, opening a palm. “Saïx showed me, like, the video on shoplifting: ‘Be nice and hope for the best.’” Okay, so it had been a little more complicated than that, but just a little. “But that was really all…”
“Mhmm,” Aqua nods thoughtfully, standing. Settling the box on her hip, she steps behind the checkout counter and deposits it on the narrow space between the computer monitor and a display box. “Saïx only shows the official training videos.”
She looks to Roxas, who follows her behind the register, unsure what he should be doing and apparently appearing concerned enough that she puts on her comforting voice, sets a hand on the counter between them like she wants to pat him in sympathy, but they just met so it’d be weird.
“Don’t be upset with him, though. He’s just trying not to get sacked. You know, Axel told me once the closest Hot Topic to us has been through at least five managers since Saïx has started. Which is probably why Saïx can be such a fun-suck.”
Sympathy tugs at Roxas’ heartstrings. He wonders if it’s ever occurred to Demyx and Vanitas that part of the reason Saïx is so strict is because he’s under pressure of his own. Mostly, Saïx has been professional and polite. Well, except when he’s mocking them all mercilessly, in his blink-and-you-miss-it deadpan, but Roxas kind of admires that.   
“I really don’t think he’s…I mean he’s actually kind of hilarious if you pay attention to literally anything that comes out of his mouth...”
Aqua isn’t listening any more. With the large box blocking her from the eyes of any customers that might wander in, (and this early, there aren’t likely to be any), she has fished out her smartphone and begun swiping through screens. “Here. I think I still have a copy…”
The discussion halts as the video starts with a loud, electric guitar thrum, and the phone exchanges hands.
“HEY HOTTIES!”
The tiny screen erupts into sensory overload. An explosion of flames, the sound of an engine backfiring, and heavy rock music smash together; the words “HOT TOPIC TRAINING VIDEO #2” flashing white across the black, flaming screen.
Demyx appears with black, star shaped sunglasses perched on his forehead, wearing a white shirt with black cap sleeves and a realistic image of the head and neck of duckling peeking up from the bottom half.
“My name’s Demyx, in the place to be!” he raps, a la Hamilton, arms spreading, and the camera zooms out. They’re in Hot Topic, of course.
The cameraman starts to beatbox. He’s not terrible. Keeps a steady rhythm, at least.
“Got my new best friend—Zexion—workin’ with me!”
The lyrics, those are terrible.
Demyx wraps an arm around a shorter man, Zexion’s, shoulders. He has silvery blue emo bangs, straight posture, and the expression of someone who would rather be literally anywhere else.
“Alright, wait,” Zexion interrupts, shrugging free of the arm, twisting to face the golden retriever of a dude. “Firstly, we just met today.”
“Yeah,” Demyx’s grin could blind, “but I can just tell.”
“Secondly,” Zexion’s arms cross, unimpressed, “if this is going to be a rap video, I am not participating.”
Demyx’s processes this for a moment with a frown, and a just as sudden smile. “You can rap too!”
Zexion stares for a moment as if offering Demyx an opportunity to use his brain cells, and when that doesn’t happen, starts to leave.
“Wait. Zexion!” Demyx scrambles after him, off camera, with the cameraman laughing hysterically in the background in a voice that’s distinctively Axel’s. “Wait!”
“Oh God,” Roxas runs fingers down his face in second-hand embarrassment. “Is the whole thing like this?”
Aqua giggles, fingertips to her lips, shakes her head and smirks. “Don’t worry. It gets worse.”
Demyx has returned to the center of the screen, his shoulders and lips weighed down with dejection. “Looks like it’s just me.”
“You start rapping again, and I’m pulling the plug,” teases the cameraman. Definitely Axel.
“Your camera doesn’t even have a plug, Axel, so there.” Demyx plants his fists on his hips and sticks out his tongue.
The video shuts off.  
Roxas snorts loudly. Aqua shakes her head again wistfully and steps up to Roxas’ side to see better.
“Hey ya, Hotties,” greets a new voice, cocky, gruff and slow, like a Southerner turned surfer. It belongs to a brunette man around Luxord’s age. He tugs at one of the lapels of his leather jacket. He’s dressed like the head of a biker gang and wears a ponytail and eyepatch like he’d rather be a pirate. When he gestures to the camera, tattoos appear at his wrists.
“I think that’s Xigbar,” Aqua offers in response to the miffed expression on Roxas’ face.
“We’re here today to talk to you about:”
“CUSTOMER SERVICE!” Demyx enthuses from beside him, hands folding, grin bright and then flickering. “We were going to rap for you, but I was outvoted.”
The easily disheartened blonde bows his head and Xigbar smiles down at him like he can think of better uses for Demyx’s mouth than busting rhymes.
“There, there, sugar,” he soothes, mildly taunting. A beefy arm wraps Demyx’s shoulder, his hand patting lightly.
When Demyx cuddles into the older, taller man’s grip, Roxas kind of wants to vomit. It feels a little like watching a bunny cuddle up to a king cobra.
Reenergized by the less than selfless show of support, Demyx remembers his spiel, continuing brightly, “Most of the people who walk into Hot Topic are—”
“Middle school girls?” Xigbar cuts in, brows bouncing.
Demyx freezes. There’s a loud snort behind the camera.
Demyx nods, even his smile going still before he manages to concede with an eye roll, “Right, okay, true.” Demyx elbows Xigbar in the ribs for his interruption, and Xigbar’s confident grin brightens, though Demyx gets away with it unscathed.
“But most of our paying customers here at Hot Topic are total nerds,” Demyx insists. The screen flashes to a man with a silvery blond ponytail and a light brown sweater vest over white and blue plaid leaning across the checkout counter.
“Vexen,” Aqua identifies, when Roxas’ gaze flicks up to her. “Fired.”
“And BAMFs.” The screen cuts to Xigbar giving a cheeky, two fingered salute.
“Quit,” Aqua tacks on.
“And even nerdy BAMFs.” Cut to Axel threading a blue and gold striped scarf around Saïx’s neck, as Saïx rolls his eyes and turns his head to hide a wry smile.
“Messy,” she—admits, maybe.
So, the guys are friends. Roxas, notes, bemused. Weird.
“All living in harmony!” Demyx concludes, appearing back on screen, hands clapping together.
Eye patch guy snorts, turning toward Demyx. “Why do you keep saying ‘BAMFs’ like it’s a thing.” He leans in closer than strictly necessary, another smirk teasing his lips. “It’s not a thing.”
Demyx turns as well, eyes widening, hands opening in front of him, emphatically. “This is a training video, Xigbar! I can’t just say BAMF.”
Xigbar backhands Demyx’s shoulder. “Pussy.”
Demyx startles back a step. “I don’t think you can say that either.”
“I just did.”
Demyx sighs, like, after all this, he is just now realizing Xigbar is here to fuck with him. “Never mind, Ax’ll edit it out. My point is,” he regains his enthusiasm, the camera zooms in, “most of our customers are awesome, refined, sophisticated human beings.”
Cut to footage of Luxord and Xigbar at a table in a sunroom, dressed in black clothes and silver chains, sipping tea from white china cups and reading newspapers, while classical music plays in the background.
Roxas abruptly chokes and Aqua offers a light giggle, though whether to Roxas’ reaction or the tea party, he can’t be sure. He takes back his judgment of Xigbar. He must have liked Demyx quite a bit to do that.
“They say things like…” prompts Demyx’s voiceover as the camera pans to Zexion with his Hot Topic lanyard standing with a tall man with dramatic, manicured sideburns and a ponytail of thick dreads.
“Thank you for your help.”
It’s like the British Invasion in here.
“I met him,” Roxas recalls.
Aqua tilts the phone and squints, “Xaldin. He’s our number two.”
Roxas breathes out a ‘huh?’
“Assistant manager. Saïx’s second in command. Person you go to when something goes wrong and you don’t want to get fired over it.”
“But I thought that was—” The video cuts Roxas off.
“And,” Demyx narrates.
Cut to Zexion behind the register and Xaldin in front.
“I’m sorry, sir. Your Hot Cash is expired.” Zexion does not seem the least bit sorry.
“Okay, no problem.” Xaldin does not seem the least bit concerned.
Back to Demyx and the leering pirate. “However, not all of our customers are quite so delightful,” Demyx narrates, sadly.
“Some of them seem to have had the life and joy sucked straight out of ‘em,” Xigbar continues, cheerily.
“We call these customers…” prompts Demyx.
“Heartless,” both announce and it’s back to the black screen with the flames and the word appearing in typical Hot Topic font. This fades back to Demyx and Xigbar.
“The Heartless are the customers that make you want to quit,” explains Demyx.
“Or punch a wall,” Xigbar interjects.
“Or roll up in a corner and cry while clutching a teddy bear and a box of Twinkies.”
Xigbar starts, turns. The camera zooms in. Roxas isn’t sure if Axel is an asshole or a comic genius. Xigbar’s hand falls onto Demyx’s upper arm, tone low, “Demy, baby,…you, okay?”
Demyx’s eyes widen, deer-like, and he attempts a smile. “...Fine.”
“Demy…” Xigbar growls and yanks him off screen.
“For example,” Axel’s voice cuts in to keep the ball rolling.
Cut to a tall, blonde woman with a pixie cut looming over the cashier. She’s dressed in a lacy black bandeau, distressed, pale denim shorts, and red heels that could stab a man.
Roxas immediately recognizes her from the staff meeting. “Larxene.”
“I demand to speak to your manager, you good for nothing spoon,” she growls at one employee.
“My Hot Cash doesn’t expire until I say it expires!” she hollers at the next.
“I’m going to call your management and see to it that you’re fired,” she hisses to the third.
“Okay.” The final cashier, a tall, lanky blonde man with hair spiked up like Roxas’ merely blinks. “So, did you want your receipt or not?
Roxas finds himself cackling again. “How long did they spend making this?”
“They had one afternoon while Saïx was at a conference.”
The camera finds Demyx and Xigbar again in a different part of the store. Demyx’s grin is all dimples and sunshine, and Xigbar has Demyx’s sunglasses tucked into the white tee under his leather jacket.
“But do not fear the Heartless, new staff member!” Demyx cheers. “For every Heartless you face down, Luxord will give you a point in his secret mission report notebook. Whoever has the shittiest month gets a prize!”
“Uh, I think he keeps them on his iPhone, Dem,” Xigbar corrects, not rudely. Another bark of laughter from Axel.  
“Shh,” Demyx whispers in Xigbar’s ear, tugging at his collar, super unnecessarily. “That’s way lamer.”
“Tell them what happens if they win, Lucky,” Xigbar says, gesturing to the side, obviously trying to distract Demyx.  
It works. Demyx rushes off camera to haul Luxord onto the screen. “Yeah! What can we win, Lucky?”
Luxord seems cool and collected even as he’s bodily dragged forward. He stops centerstage, when Demyx releases him, brushing himself off. “Each month, everyone who wants in contributes cash, candy, or assorted other worthy prizes.” He stares down the camera with cool blue eyes, as if in personal challenge. “Winner takes it all. Fortune favors the bold.”
Roxas is pretty sure Luxord just quoted Mamma Mia.  
“It’s a surprise!” Demyx gushes, clinging to the biker looking guy’s sleeve.
“I need a fucking tranquilizer for you, kid,” Xigbar mumbles fondly, mussing Demyx’s pompadour mohawk, and earning a playful tackle in response.
“And we cut there,” Axel announces. “Nobody needs to see that.”
The screen goes black. The fire and rock music start up again and the names of everyone in the video flash on-screen briefly all at once and just as abruptly disappear.
The video blinks off.
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