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bluginkgo · 11 months ago

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Debunking Old Theories

As a fun way to see what was wrong and what was right, I decided to go back to all of my old theories and see which ones are the craziest XD

Spoilers duh, oh and gore warning? Kinda?

I mean... that scary *ss mother facking thing towards the end- you know what I'm talking about if you watched the ep 😅

This theory was me going into a long chat about who the double x'ed eyed person could be on the poster that was teased waaaay back when. Although I did not out right say who it could have possibly been, I did notice I had some interesting thoughts going on.

"What if the double x'ed character is someone we already know... but is dead? A character that is confirmed/somewhat confirmed to be dead can return back to life, and their body forced to move by the absolute solver."

So the idea was sort of there. That the solver basically took the body of someone presumed dead and forced it to move.

I suppose it kind of works. Tessa, at this point, seems very much so dead. And her skin was used to get a drone through the security system.

This theory was made in a random fit of craziness I think. And basically talked about how Uzi's admin program could allow for DDs to tap into the Absolute Solver powers without becoming fully corrupted (based off of @/jazzstarrlight's concept art). Thus, turning into Uzi and Doll with solver powers. Although this might happen in ep8, I'm highly doubtful. But I was right about this:

"Uzi did SOMETHING, who knows what at this point, but her switching the admin program is important. Given that N and V haven't turned into the gooey flesh monsters quite yet like we see in Home, I'd say absolute solver string is still blocked to a certain degree."

And sure enough, the admin program holds out. Preventing the Absolute Solver to corrupt DDs and force them to become mindless murder drones that they were back on Earth.

This theory was taking a jab at the figure we saw in ep4.

And I attempted to reason as to who made the image. First shot was Doll, and that's a hard no lol. Second shot was the double X'ed person and well...

I guess I was right? The thing that Tessa is now, is just a solver drone wearing human skin. And she has all the solver drone powers, being able to call forth the claws and teleportation powers seen with the Absolute Solver. So for her to create the image, or it IS the entity wearing Tessa's skin, is not too far fetched. @brookiedaaroacecookie I saw your tag, and realized I had attempted something similar a very long time ago... 😅

This theory had me going crazy over solver's laughter. Easily debunked. It was aesthetic choice. Also the line "Hahahaha, thanks for giving me the planet. Fricking idiot." Never made it into ep7, but I will not put it past Liam to use this in ep8 instead! Addressing either N or Uzi.

N: Thanks for giving me yet another planet. You unintentionally lead Uzi straight into her demise, and thus set off the second core collapse.

Uzi: Thanks for giving me the planet. You dummy who jumped in to sacrifice yourself and save N.

This theory had me going in to how Tessa was suspicious. Debunk this little sh*t real quick, most of this was wrong :3 J was sent out to "mind the ship" to destroy the escape pod that Uzi has been working on. It's still unclear to me whether J is siding with Tessa entity because she believes that's the true Tessa, or simply because she knows that it is the Absolute Solver wearing skin of a human. Something I did notice as well was I mentioned Tessa's hand injury. It never came up in this episode. But you know what my crazy brain did? Made another theory!

So the Absolute Solver did tell Tessa "You will not have to discard your pets, and I will not discard you." But hang on a second. The Absolute Solver appears to have skinned Tessa and used her, how is this not discarding? To back this up a little, the solver did in fact keep its promise. It allowed the main DD trio to keep their personalities. The "pets" were not discarded. Now as for Tessa, she was not discarded either- Ginkgo you crazy idiot, she's dead, that's her skin. But that's exactly it. The Absolute Solver, like any good villain, is capable to playing with words. It never specified what "discarding" meant, or to what degree. Just like with the DDs, Tessa was also not discarded. She was repurposed. Her skin used to further the Absolute Solver's plans just like the DDs were. Could I be wrong and could this skin actually not be Tessa? Sure, there's always that chance! But with how Tessa entity looked and acted, I'll stick by the idea that she's very much dead.

Back to the hand injury though, here's the theory I came up with. The Absolute Solver may or may not have kept Tessa alive post the gala massacre.

After all, the image is still redacted, and we do not know if by then the solver already had used her to create the monstrosity that is 1001. But if the solver did keep her alive, it kept its promise. Tessa was not discarded. But perhaps a condition of hers caused her body to slowly wither away. In a fit of fear, she might have gone to the solver for help. So the solver gave her purpose. Crazy idea? Yup, nothing new here XD

This theory is also very out there XD The summary of it is that I believe Cyn is on the good side. Because why send out DDs with a way of blocking out the Absolute Solver instead of fully corrupting them? Why send out DDs to a hub that had two very powerful solver drones? I'll put this theory to rest I believe. Because at this point, Cyn appears to be very much so dead. Whatever corporal body she may have had back at the manor is now gone, basing it off of the massacre that was on Earth. Another quote that made me realize that this was all just the Absolute Solver playing around was this:

N was the main reason that the Absolute Solver allowed the DD trio to keep their personalities. This means that the administration CYN was in place to keep the solver from corrupting the trio just to keep their personalities. All of this just because the solver enjoyed watching the trio run around believing like they can do something to fix this huge mess. Now, are there chances of Cyn still reappearing and helping the gang? Sure! I don't see why not. And I'll be pleasantly surprised if Liam does pull that route.

This theory has Cyn! To summarize this one, I basically took another attempt on figuring out how Liam's drawing of Cyn in the sea of red could be relevant. Of course, it did not show up this time around, but I noticed a couple things that I said kind of lined up.

"I can imagine it, N and Uzi fighting whatever the thing is in the Cabin Fever labs. Uzi somehow ends up either being knocked out or full possession occurs, either way, her subconsciousness is transported into this realm of red." Well uhh...

Not quite red... but somewhere!

"This might be the place where all the hosts' minds connect- the hive mind/cloud based system. Here, Uzi might meet Cyn and even Nori- I know I'm stretching it, but this is just me rambling my own thoughts. And keeping on with my belief in good Cyn theory, Cyn might help Uzi out. She might tell Uzi the origin of the absolute solver- how the AI error came about. Uzi might end up chatting with Cyn or directly with the Absolute Solver, all the while her body is posessed by the said Absolute Solver. She'd be going on another rampage, probably fighting N."

So we do find that Nori is still in fact alive, though after getting punted like a ball into the Absolute Solver hole, I'm not quite sure. XD But I will keep this theory for ep8 for now. The idea that Cyn's mind may connect and chat with Uzi is still quite appealing to me. And well, I guess Uzi did fight with N. And I will keep that theory too and simply carry it over to ep8. We know the last mural is of N, and he will most likely be fighting the very last Absolute Solver form. Uzi's consciousness may connect with that form and work together with N from the inside to get rid of the solver on Copper-9 for good.

This theory had me going crazy about Uzi's core. Because up until now, we don't really get to see her core very well. Perhaps its the design, but at times when the angles are right, we ought to see the WD hat picture poking through... but we don't. There's two routes from here still:

Either its just an animation detail that is unimportant. This is just simply how she was designed

Something is still hiding there. This one, I'm quickly losing faith on. Because when we saw Nori, her symbol was normal- turned yellow when possessed of course, but that is understandable. There was nothing that was off about Nori, Yeva, or Doll and their cores. I do not see how Uzi's core will be any different. Instead, I wanna know WHAT THE FACK THIS IS XD

This theory was a chat about Tessa's three ships. And this one still stumps me. Because Tessa was there for the sole purpose of getting down into the lab, finding out how many more of the hosts were left, kill them, get the crucifix, destroy it, and maybe send Copper-9 off into another core collapse. If that's the case, and with how she has been engineered... WHY DOES SHE NEED THREE SHIPS??? Most of them were filled with junk, unless they do hold something important that we have yet to see. For now, this one is gonna be burning in the back. Because this was either a diversion and a way to make us believe that this Tessa may have been real, or they actually serve a purpose.

This theory was regarding the teaser and how maybe Uzi would have to go through an exorcism. Ahahaha, yeah, so there was exorcism! IN FORM OF SLAPS FROM NORI XD and uhhh... a "sacrifice" on Uzi's part ;w;

This theory was on the teaser that was released. And it is this one that will be the most FUN to gut >:3

First, the corridor with the sentinels never made it into the actual episode. Which makes me leave V as MIA still. Delusional? Perhaps, most likely. But like I said. I will not call her dead until I see a body or an eldrich version of her. The one that was in the cathedral was a mere hologram.

Concerned N... AHAHAHAHAHH I WAS SO WRONG LET'S GO!!! N was very upset, yes, but not about something he saw ahead, but about something the gang left BEHIND: V. That entire scene is gonna be on my mind for a bit too long.

The vortex around the cathedral took place during the flashback scene... but still doesn't really explain why there's RAIN in a CAVE. But oh well XD

So I was somewhat right about the sequence of events with "Dr. Chambers" and Uzi watching the tape. More so on the fact that whatever Uzi watched on the tape made her solver go haywire.

Welp, Tessa did help Uzi in this scene ;w; My poor soul, the NUzi angst is delicious but dangit it's still angst.

And I was wrong about Khan being there... KIND OF. Cause he still showed up XD But yes, the gravity did take a quick break because the Absolute Solver in the core is starting to act out.

Feral N was not killing Nori, at least not in this scene XD Man, that entire sequence had my jaw on the floor. It was amazing.

Uzi's eye did burst, from strain of using the solver to... *sobs* protect from N's mindless rage and attempts to clear the elevator. ;w; UGH that scene is gonna be stuck with me for a long while.

Well, the theory that Doll is fighting with Tessa did come true- but I also theorized using all the characters, so it wasn't quite fair.

Omg it's that math meme XD But hey, I had the Nori part! This was Nori and she was being contained in this manner because the new patch of the Absolute Solver was making her go haywire.

And finally this theory. "Now, as for the crack theory: I think the absolute solver is now the center/core of copper-9."

Well... Kind of I guess? But we don't get to see the extent of it. We simply shown how deep the hole truly is, and it can easily reach into the core of the planet. "But what if you take 10, or 50, or 100 corrupted cores and fuse them together? Sure, a single solver drone may not make that big of an impact, but we don't know how long the list of drones that were experimented on down in the labs was." Answer is at the very least 129 drones XD

Let me know if I missed any of my old theories. I've been doing nothing but typing out theories for the past 2 days straight. ;w; What hyper fixations do to you, am I right? XD But in all honesty, this was ridiculously fun. And kind of surprising that some of my stupid ideas did have bits and pieces that were right!

Want more of my stupid rambles? This has 3 other parts! ;w;

#murder drones #murder drones nuzi #murder drones uzi #murder drones n #murder drones nori #murder drones absolute solver #murder drones tessa #murder drones cyn #murder drones v #murder drones j #murder drones doll #murder drones ep 7 #murder drones episode 7 #glitch productions #murder drones theory #bluginkgo's rambles/theories #murder drones khan #murder drones thad #murder drones lizzy

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hollownekomata · 2 months ago

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//preliminary info on the other two Cooperative Arrancars because they're scratching at my brain but not enough to draw their looks (much of this could be subjected to change but the general concepts are set):

Gwynvere Clarnive Campanária (she/them) - Ex Arrancar n.58

Animal: Barn Owl

Fourth Division (main tasks: courier, quick transport of medical equip)

Actively seeks out the Recruitment Squad to join the Unit. Once one of Baraggan's fracciones, she defects right before the Segunda Espada leaves for the World of the Living because she feels like skipping work (again) and doesn't want to deal with Ggio. Only having joined Baraggan for their own interests, she doesn't have any particular reaction to his demise. After Aizen's defeat, Hueco Mundo becomes too "dull" and "tame" for her, and so decides that switching over to the winning side isn't such a bad idea.

Opportunistic troublemaker whose favorite hobby is to stick her nose into other people's business. Loathes hard work, prefers to flutter around the Gotei 13 to pick up on the latest gossip, or just find people to pester (his favorites are Iemura, Ikkaku and Yumichika). The only one she sort of respects and is thus safe from her mischief is Captain Unohana --Gwyn never misses her ikebana classes.

Physical highlights: has owl-like wings made of hollow bone-plate which she uses often, even for short distances. Her mask is a pair of big round glasses frames (no glass, just the frame). Hollow hole placement still unknown. Her smug aura mocks you, constantly.

Zampakuto: Malasorte (command: "Descend") - (appearance unknown)

Rorkedras Ippodirge (he/him), Ex Arrancar n.30

Animal: Horse/Seahorse

Fifth Division (main task: being an asshole, for now)

Joins the unit seemingly on a whim. Before Aizen's arrival, he was the leader of a small pack of Adjuchas who he considered his closest friends. Among them was his brother, who leaves the group in search of power to become a Vasto Lorde, only to come back some time after gone mad from the desperate realization that no matter how many souls he'd consume, he'll never trascend his current state. As a last resort, Rorke's brother slaughters his old group of comrades thinking that will be the key to reach "enlightenment", but is cut down by Rorke himselt. Found by chance by Aizen and his lot, he receives the blessing of the Hōgyoku and becomes the n.30.

Things don't go much furhter for him under Aizen, seemingly because of lack of potential to become an Espada. The lack of recognition makes him bitter towards Aizen and his lot, and he's actively happy to hear they were defeated. Deep inside, he misses the connection he had with his pack and that subconsciously leads him to join the Cooperative Unit.

Arrogant, loud, sarcastic and a big show-off. Short-tempered. Takes joy in standing out and getting attention, often seeking it by getting into fights in front of an audience. Those who know his story probably understand it's a symptom of losing his leader role and his close friends, but he hides it all behind a fierce mask. The closest way to his heart is praise, and attention, and playing along with his antics. Shinji is the only one able to keep him somewhat in place, while he takes a liking for Momo because of her determination.

Physical highlights: hollow hole placement unknown. His mask covers his right cheek/temple, and looks like a fossilized ammonite. His horns are supposed to recall coral (hones them often for that exact reason). Loves golden jewellery and is covered in it (earrings, bangle bracelets, anklets), adorns his face with pearl-shaped ornaments, sometimes glitter.

Zampakuto: Nereide (command: "Drench") - looks like a double-edged oar

first very raw sketches:

#//nekotalks #//Gwyn's profile is a little scarce because I don't have a specific event that could shape her like what happens for Rorke #//Rorke's loss of his pack if fundamental for his behaviour in Soul Society #//he wants friends but doesn't really know how to make them since he's lost his own?#//Gwyn is just a menace because she was born like that-#//god I'll have to draw so many icons hahahAHAHAH-*collapses*#//anyways have just a sprinke of them. Miele will stay my primary muse #//but these two are VIOLENT at me sometimes so hopefully you'll like them too!

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lovelynim · 2 years ago

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Honkai Star Rail Tickle HCs

Caelus, Dan Heng and March 7th

A/N: I still don't know how I'll build this kind of post's header, so, for now, I'll use the one I do for my fics heheh. I wanted to write this in a while, so why not get back into writing hcs with my new favorite trio?

Caelus

I’d say he is a switch, but when it comes to March and Dan Heng he is mostly a lee huehuehue

that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get his share of wrecking the other two

he is usually the one that takes the initiative, either tickling March because she teased him too much or pairing up with her to get Dan Heng to loose up a bit and smile

but will always end up at the receiving end somehow

whenever he is not looking, March will sneak up on him and shove her hands at his sides or under his arms

and he will let out a loud (and sometimes high pitched) squeal, which March finds funny and only motivates her to do it again or keep tickling him until he makes the same sound

he tries to hold in his laughter a lot, but just poke his underarms or pinch his hips and he is gone for

but he doesn’t mind it, as much as he will act annoyed at March, he enjoys the attention and goofing around with her heheh

Dan Heng

will only engage as the ler if provoked into it, but even so it really takes a lot to get on his nerves

Dan Heng thought he would get some break from March when Caelus joined the Express, since she would have someone else to “bother”, but much to his demise they share the same brain cell and now he has to deal with twice the trouble

Locked inside his room for too long? Tickled

Grumpy face? Tickled

Snapped back at them? Tickled

Lowered his guard in public? Tickled

My man can’t catch a break, for real. Yet, for some unknown reason, even when the other two gang up on him, he doesn’t really fight back or say “stop”...

His thighs are a really bad spot, but his ribs are equally sensitive and he just panics when Caelus or March hold him by his wrists because he gets ptsd of other times when he got wrecked

Also, Caelus finds out he has a really ticklish neck and ears, specially to kissing/nibbles/gentle blows, but I’ll leave up to you how he find that out :)))

March 7h

A LIVING MENACE

don’t get fooled by her playful nature and pink hair, she is a ler and a really mean one

this brat will ALWAYS seek for openings to jab Caelus and Dan Heng in their sides, run a finger down their backs, shove her (cold) hands inside their shirts, anything to get them laughing

if she is ticklish? yes, look at her, of course she is. BUT SHE HAS WAY TOO MUCH ENERGY

so you will hardly get to “tire her out” and trying to fight fire with fire will only lead to worst attacks

you cant win against March lmao (Dan Heng and Caelus found this out in the best way possible)

also, another fun fact is that since Caelus joined, March is constantly third wheeling him and Dan Heng

So whenever they start to show the slightest sign of intimacy, she will strike

just imagine the two of them looking into each other’s eyes, a romantic smile in their face, everything goes smooth… and then Caelus squeals because March squeezed his waist

She is dancae #1 supporter, but third wheeling her? not in their wildest dreams

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail tickling #dan heng #caelus #march 7th #headcanons #tickling headcanons

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anthroposeen · 10 months ago

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i finished red valley s2 (literally 30 seconds ago) and i have very swirly, conflicted, and bemused thoughts! this review is just gonna be some loosey goosey simplified thoughts on the season as a whole :)

i really enjoyed the format of the pacing this season, with the perspective switching from the future and aubrey's pov back to the past recordings, i thought it added a nice layer to the way information was revealed. i also just generally thought it was paced really well, especially considering the story is dealing in several time skips.

the character development this season was also delicious- i really didnt expect grace's sorta-redemption arc? and i really liked how aubrey's journey "out" of red valley was sort of a foil to both grace and briony's change in career directions. i also just loved the entirety of aubrey's arc in general, shes become my new favorite character and i think easily the most interesting one (and i hope she doesnt turn out to be another evil mad scientist in s3, i enjoy her as a morally sound grassroots terrorist, thanks).

im ashamed to say that i need briony desperately. "need" can be taken in many directions- as a lab specimen, as a lover, as an enemy, carnally, in a self disgusted manner, in a cage fight, as a medical prescription or psychiatric diagnosis. i simply need her. i love aubrey and i want to sit down with her and have a really long chat. but i want to beat briony's skull in with hammers and eat her entrails with my bare hands and teeth. i needed to confess this to god, to anyone reading these tags, and to whatever cruel power made this woman so perfect for being put in a blender.

as for warren and gordon, who i feel need to be picked apart as a unified entity, holy shit. i mean actually what the fuck is this. so we're just going to go with the fact that warren's brain is being turned to cherry slushie and hes been in hypersleep for 44 fucking years and everytime he re-wakes up he has to wonder why his best friend sounds like siri??? and gordon. gordon who has never gone under hypersleep and had the faulty meds used on him and has been in a cryonics tube for nearly half a century after being shot at close range. ok! ok!!! ok. right. so we just need to accept this and move on and not question it and not worry about it. my threat about killing everyone in the room and then myself upon gordon's demise very much still stands and i am fully prepared to take a leaf out of aubrey's book and approach this issue with a homemade flame thrower. at least waffles is fine (also, that's my cat's name, so thats fun!!)

overall, i really ate this season up and im so very scared to start s3. like actually terrified. but what a wonderfully written and crafted show!!! im losing my mind and going full yellow wallpaper!! congrats to the team behind this!!

#red valley #red valley podcast

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ritens · 2 years ago

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[wf] Their Headache I : Background

Zariman / Warframes / Old War

Every tenno’s story begins with the Orokin ship, Zariman Ten Zero. It was a military ship sent into void in a discreet attempt to reach the Tau System to populate the place. The ship was lost in a void jump. Caserin Kyn was one among many other child survivors. This trip was meant to be temporary for him. His parents were supposed to come pick him up at some point. They weren’t on the ship as far as he knew so he remained hopeful that they hadn’t lost their sanity and didn't meet their demise like the parents of many other kids had.

The lost ship was found days later and Kyn was hidden away along with the other children. Until a ‘happy accident’ caused the discovery that the tenno could relieve certain monsters of their stress with the abilities they had gained from the void jump. From then on all he knew was violence through warframes, living organisms turned into crazed beasts.

The surviving children gained a new purpose and were taken under the caring wing of Margulis who was determined to find a way to allow the tenno to control their powers and thus blend back into society. With infestation manipulation on the rise, Margulis taught them how to transfer their consciousness into the warframes. To protect the tenno from bodily harm, they were locked away in a reservoir on Earth’s moon, Lua, and seated in Somatic Links.

When the Sentients waged war upon the Orokin Empire, the tenno were trained to fight for their Orokin masters. Without ever leaving the reservoir, they operated the warframes and pushed back the Sentient threat.

Kyn didn’t have a set warframe and took over whatever human slash machine he could get his consciousness onto. If one got incapacitated, he switched to another, at one point unintentionally making home in an incomplete warframe. The warframe’s own consciousness refused his hold and Kyn had to desert the battle on Earth’s surface in favor of finding a place to hide.

Both of them went dormant sooner than most other tenno. An act of self-preservation.

Awakening / Second Dream

Possibly hundreds of years later, the incomplete, still feral warframe woke up in a cave filled with water. In panic it forced the tenno inhabiting its mind to wake up from cryosleep as well. Much earlier than intended by the Sentient mimic, Lotus, who had taken up the role of Margulis as programmed by the Orokin during the Old War.

“Help me! I can’t swim!” a voice shouted in Kyn’s mind causing him to groggily blink his eyes open.

“What are you talking about? Who are you?” The tenno replied to what felt like an extension of himself, “get out of my head!”

“I am Luke Devan. You are in MY head!” The warframe attempted an introduction but the threat of slipping underwater lent him no patience. He pathetically grabbed at nearby rocks but his rusty limbs didn’t quite listen to his wishes so he opted to continue persuading the adolescent human being instead. “You’re tenno are you not? Don’t you have the massive brain power to make others do your bidding or whatever?”

“I’m a what!? How could I possibly make you do anything…” Kyn’s groggy confusion knew no bounds. He tried to concentrate as best as he could but nothing made sense to him yet.

“Oh, sweet void, I can’t believe this is happening. What kind of nightmare did I sacrifice myself for…” Luke groaned.

And then something clicked in Kyn’s mind and his mental gears started rotating. “Wait. You are a warframe. A Warframe! But how are you talking to me?”

“Child! Just do your weird void magick already-” Luke shouted just as he noticed himself swiftly climbing up the wet rocks like they were mere pebbles on a hiking trail. There was no weakness in his body. He didn’t feel a thing.

The two didn’t exchange any further words. Kyn managed to free himself from the Somatic Link, disconnecting himself from the warframe in the process. It took some time for him to gather his bearings, and even more time to take control of his own extremities. Caserin explored the abandoned mess that was Lua, once a grand center for the Orokin, now devoid of life. He didn’t dare wake up any other Tenno as he believed they were supposed to be this way. He had been connected to a faulty warframe model and it was his problem to deal with.

Caserin Kyn spent far too many years alone on Lua until the arrival of the new Sentient threat. Until Lotus came to pick up her sleeping children.

He received his own orbiter to pilot and missions to take upon, but he never quite readjusted to socializing and instead opted to go alone. Warframes posed another issue. Kyn developed a distaste for them due to the incident with the incomplete machine that caused him a great deal of grief alongside a lengthy solitude. He was given a Nezha warframe at one point but handed it down to another tenno without even connecting to it once.

The War Within

There was a situation that prompted a tenno to go and investigate unusual activity in the Reservoirs on Lua. Teshin was behind this. He essentially lured the tenno into investigating himself further and that led the child to the Grineer Queens to become a sacrifice for their Continuity ritual. In their mental fight against the influence of the Queens, the tenno unearthed forgotten memories and knowledge that Margulis had made the Zariman children forget in order to protect themselves and others… from themselves.

Upon the defeat of the older Queen, the tenno returned and passed the re-acquired knowledge onto other Tenno. The Zariman children were finally able to use warframes without being strapped to their Somatic Link seats.

When he first heard of this, Kyn thought he had no use of it. He was sure that he would never use a warframe. But after being continuously hassled by an ex-classmate “What? Is the big bully scared of what he might unearth about himself?”, he gave in and did his best to dig into his own 'forgotten' memories. He’d gone through them so many times, there was no way he could find anything new. But with a bit of tough love driven support he found what he was looking for. His own spark.

Kyn was determined to extend his theoretical trip back in time to, perhaps, find the warframe that had abruptly woken him up and ruined a good portion of his conscious life.

Finding Luke

Most of the warframes Kyn had hopped to and from during the Old War were long gone so finding traces of his own energy wasn’t a time consuming task. Maybe just a bit challenging depending on distance. But not impossible as long as the destination warframe was still in usable condition.

Caserin wasn’t confident with his abilities yet so he sat down in his orbiter’s own Somatic Link for the first time and closed his eyes. After fighting with misty darkness for roughly 15 minutes, right as he was about to give up, he managed to form contact with something.

And suddenly he wasn’t seeing with his own eyes anymore.

The sight before him was red, dusty and bright. A classic Mars scenery. And then there were the grineer charging at him with guns blazing.

“OH SHIT!” Kyn shouted, startling his host. The warframe briefly observed their own hands to check who’s in control, before sprinting towards the grineer and slicing in half whatever body got close.

Once the last man standing was down, the warframe propped themselves up against a rock pillar and just stood there. The tenno didn’t do anything either as he was expecting the warframe to say or show something but nothing happened even after a couple minutes of waiting. At that point Kyn took the reins with the intention of inspecting the host.

The warframe felt as well as appeared to be presenting as male and was clad in a worn down tailcoat. He had threads of infestation protruding from places on his legs and arms, and perhaps elsewhere but Kyn couldn’t see that much without a mirror. Despite the disheveled state the warframe was in, he appeared to have some innate poise. The tenno was making mental notes when suddenly the warframe pulled away from his influence to rest an arm on hip and impatiently tap a foot.

Kyn couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the expressed attitude. He remembered the same kind of sass which the warframe spoke with back when he got woken up. But the warframe having such a high level of awareness still made no sense to him. The machine was acting on its own even now.

The tenno finally spoke, starting with a question. “You’re Luke, are you not?”

The warframe remained quiet. Kyn could see the frame bring a hand to rest on his chin as if to have a moment of thought. Then the warframe looked around until his vision fell to the ground. He drew a question mark in the dirt with his foot.

“Huh.” Kyn didn’t expect this nonverbal reply but quickly told himself that it’s been a very long time and it might be possible that the warframe went through significant changes too. It was a plausible assumption.

“Do you have an operator?” the tenno asked another, perhaps silly, question.

The warframe drew a horizontal line in the sand. Kyn quickly deciphered it as ‘negative’. So the warframe was on his own.

“I’m going to bring you in. We need to talk face to face.” The tenno finally stated the end goal, and the warframe got down on his knees before using his fingers to draw a menacing smile :) in the sand. Kyn immediately knew this was going to be a very tedious task. The warframe was going to fight for the control of his own body, tooth and nail.

#this is dated. also not canon compliant.#yeeted my wf blogger into the void so im moving my written crap here #ritens-writing #wf oc #wf-kyn #wf-devan

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campbluelake · 2 years ago

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and hiding behind that false mask | vegeta | trial 6.9 | re: abbie

Warrick hadn't liked Abbie at the start. Simple disdain evolved into something uglier as he saw how quickly Nora latched onto that tiny woman, how she admired her, how they were just so—

“I don't understand her as deeply as you do or as completely, but I understand her in a way I don't think you ever could.”

Jealousy, plain and simple.

Not that he knew it was jealousy, of course. What he experienced was anger, like everything else— anger at what he believed was Abbie's awful influence on Nora, enabling what he'd later learn was— well, trauma.

So jealousy, yes. But love, too. And what Abbie did to Nora wasn't love.

At least, not until he died.

He'd been taken aback by the compassion Abbie showed to Nora, the warmth, the hand in hers as she sobbed. He'd expected to see a fantastical depiction of his demise, but Abbie had shown him something that not even the most cynical among them could have claimed was made by someone who didn't genuinely care. She had offered something unbelievable precious to him, and he had come to respect her in turn.

While he was unable to do a single thing from where his soul was kept, Abbie had proven that maybe her love for Nora wasn't some toxic thing that would corrode her into a grinning shell of a human being. Maybe she did want what truly was best, not just what she thought was right. Maybe she wasn't as terrible as Warrick had thought.

Haha. Right. As if.

Thinking about Malyce, the contractor, is still impossible. It's nothing TV static when his brain tries to switch to that channel. But as he watches Abigail transform into a demon in the most gruesome of ways, as he's acutely aware of how Nora recoils at his side—

(Hadn’t Nora told him, before, that being here with him was paradise?)

Everything takes on a new, harsh light in hindsight. Did Abbie paint that portrait so that Nora could have something to remember him by when his soul was whisked away for whatever Vual wanted it for? Did Abbie cry when Nora died because it meant that her soul would fade away instead of staying in this world of fantasy with her?

“You… you knew, this whole time…”

When she had approached him and Nora, offering to bring him back to life so that they could be together, knowing exactly what she intended to do with them once she had them in her grasp—

"No problem!! You guys are my friends, so I want to do anything I can."

And he had been willing to do it, to put himself in the debt of someone who he had come to respect, who was so— who doesn’t even show remorse, who doesn’t even want to send them home as penance, just fucking smiling at them all like she’s just burst out of hiding with confetti and a surprise birthday cake—

His hands clench into tight fists, breathing in sharp through his nose. He looks like he might leap up and charge for her right this minute. But instead, he grits his teeth, and exercises enough self-restraint to play along with a question.

“How much of it was a lie. What you told us about yourself.”

Not jealousy. Not love.

Just anger, as always.

#ch6 #trial #vegeta

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an-ambivalent · 4 years ago

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Sukuna x Uchiha! Reader

A/N: This is purely for my own self-indulgent purposes -- expanding on this scenario I was daydreaming about. You are invited along to read about my cringefest scenario but only I’m allowed to call it cringe.

Headcanon synopsis: You are amidst fighting Kabuto with Sasuke and Itachi in the Fourth Great Ninja War when the strangest thing happens. Between struggling to stay conscious from the poison that’s slowly eating you alive to trying to focus on the lengthy explanations of never-heard-before jutsus’ between the two emo brothers, the clash of such jutsus teleports you to another world during another fight. There, the line between enemies and comrades is nonexistent. However, one thing is certain: apparently you wear the same face as of a thousand-years-old demon’s deceased lover.

For clarification, you are not related to Sasuke and Itachi because that would mean this “reader” insert has fixed looks of black hair and black eyes. You are from the same clan with abilities like the Sharingan and affiliation to fire chakra nature. But fill in your blanks of whatever you want to look like.

Warnings: This has very minor spoilers about the JJK manga, specifically Sukuna’s abilities. So read at your own risk. It’s just a bunch of OP assholes trying to one up each other ig :P

~***~

The rustic smell of blood is present profoundly in the atmosphere. The heavy rain that is suddenly drenching you, and increasing the heaviness and wetness of your clothes and making them stick disgustingly to your grime skin, does nothing to waft away the awful smell. It washes off some of the dried blood from minor cuts and other injuries you had acquired during your fight with Kabuto, triggering your pain receptors in response and causing stinging and burning of pain. But for someone like you who has already been traumatised from the blood shed you have experienced as a ninja, the revolting smell of blood and the burning pain is nothing new. However, the thing that is new is the rain. It had abruptly replaced the mid-day sun that shone horribly bright. During the war, the clear and sunny weather felt like it was nature’s way to laugh at everyone’s face when they were fighting and barely hanging onto their life. The sudden darkness of the night and the open space you find yourself in, instead of the dark cave you were in just mere moments ago, has your shoulders becoming tensed and your blood flow and heart-beat going faster.

Instantly, your eyes are their notorious deep red colour presented with three black tomes. Your refined shinobi instincts kick in, and you catch the lean and spikey black-haired male that was thrown your way. There is blood trickling down his mouth, and as you held him momentarily, it was easy to deduce that some of his ribcages and other bones were broken, in addition to more serious injuries. Like how milliseconds decisions were required as a shinobi because they determined life or death, the abrupt situation you were thrown into also required it. You carelessly threw him aside as a half-naked pink-haired teen with black markings on his skin, a hole in his chest and blood dripping down his abdomen charged at you.

He aimed a vicious and strong punch to your face, which you avoided by side-stepping. When he repeated the gesture with his other arm, you blocked it with your forearm, before twisting your body at an angle, and delivering a strong kick to his stomach and sending him flying away. Using the new created distance to your advantage, you quickly made the necessary hand-signs with practiced ease, before taking a deep breath in.

“Fire Style: Great Fire Dragon Jutsu,” You exclaimed, as you exhaled a vicious and high temperature dragon head-shaped flame towards your attacker.

Sukuna, currently in possession of Itadori’s body, was internally questioning whether the very few hits that Megumi had landed previously had damaged his brain because there was absolutely no way he had seen her face. There was absolutely no way in hell that a mere human would be strong enough to land a painful kick on him. Evidently, the thought that he had seen her face had made him falter in his concentration so it was probably a lucky hit. But the giant dragon fireball that was currently heading towards his way was not going to be a lucky or a pleasant hit, if he did not counter or dodge it. Attacks with fire meant play-time for Sukuna. So, he simply waited until your attack was mere inches away from him, before he easily manipulated the flames and extinguished them. Then, without any current motivation for more fighting, he started to walk towards you.

Your eyes widened when you saw your jutsu disappear in thin air. Then, when you saw the pink-haired male began walking towards you nonchalantly, your hand automatically went to your back and you unsheathed your sword slightly. Cracks of lightning sparked through it. You stayed grounded on your fighting stance and narrowed your eyes at him, ready to strike should he attack.

The intense cold expression you wore on your face with her familiar features was so strange to see; and usually, Sukuna enjoyed fighting and taunting seemingly stuck-up people like you. Overpowering such humans before burning them to their demise -- it was such a great way to pass his time. But right now, right now, he was infuriated. He was surprised, and somewhere deep down in his dead demonic heart, was a small sense of longing and hope to regain what used to be.

His red magenta eyes dug through you in a fierce glare as he stopped just a small distance in front of you.

“Oi, who are you?”

The corner of your lips twitched up into a smirk.

“It’s customary to introduce yourself before asking for someone else’s name. Surely, you have that much manners?”

Your reply evoked an eyebrow twitch from Sukuna.

“You’re unnecessarily cocky, aren’t you? If you knew who I was, you would know what was good for you. It’s no wonder it’s so tempting to kill you humans.” He remarked easily, and took a step closer towards you.

You raised an eyebrow in question. “Me, a human? You’re talking as if you aren’t one.”

His lips stretched into a wide grin. “Huh, so you can see me and you’re attacking me, seemingly a fellow human without mercy and not actually knowing who I am or what’s going on?”

It was something about the way he was questioning and taunting you like you were a three-years-old kid that made you glare at him. But, there were no hints of deception or lies in his words. And the nagging feeling you felt churning in the pit of your stomach made you know that something was seriously wrong.

“So what are you then, a monster? That’s quite subjective though isn’t it; I kill another to protect myself or my loved one, I’m a human in their eyes. The loved ones of the one I killed in order to protect myself, I’m a monster in their eyes. There’s no difference. Although, why I’m suddenly here and not where I am meant to be... maybe only you can answer that. And if you know who I am, you would know what’s good for you. Answer me or you will regret even having the nerve to look in my eyes.” You warned, and just then, the black tomes in your crimson irises started spinning.

Your cold threats, your body bent in the certain angle it was, ready and just waiting to kill something, and the power radiating off of you -- especially your brilliant blood eyes, it sent unanticipated shivers down Sukuna’s spine. His grin widened until his canine were visible, and just before he could respond, Megumi’s shouts were heard from the distance, interrupting his intense stare off with you.

“What the hell are you doing?! Get out here civilian before he kills you!”

Your gaze switched to him and the moment your cold red eyes met Megumi’s eyes, they widened in surprise. Then, finally, the poison that was still in your bloodstream sent sharp waves of pain to your head, causing you to wince and hiss out in pain. This was not missed by the two men around you, especially Sukuna, who was watching you like a hawk.

He smirked. “Reaching your human limits already?”

You scoffed. “Hardly. But looks like our chat will need to end here.” You responded easily. Then, with a single hand-sign and your Sharingan tomes spinning more fiercely, you triggered a low-level genjutsu. Both males, who did not know better than to not look into your eyes, were easily swept into it. It was solely for a moment; however, that moment was enough time that when the world around them stopped spinning, there was not even a single clue of you ever being there was even left.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfiction #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #ambivalent writes #uchiha x reader #sukuna scenarios

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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

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The Exception

My friend let me try playing Hades on her switch and well... I kinda liked it. Namely, I liked all the characters, so my brain went like “what if they were yandere” and I had an idea for this story that I threw together this morning before working on the Fox Wedding (: The latter isn’t done yet, but this sure is, so who knows, mayhaps some of you will enjoy it! Just tried to answer the question how we could get Thanatos to whisk us away.

Characters: Yandere!Thanatos x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Blood, War, Wounds/Impaling, Major Character Death (???) or well dying, I read into greek history for almost an hour but if I gotten something wrong then so be it

Thanatos had seen enough of the world to know that he didn't want to stay on the surface forever.

The current battle spreading before him was a mere reason to sigh deeply as he watched bodies fall left and right, their souls soon leaving to a better, or perhaps worse, place. It was mandatory he stayed, but Thanatos was well aware of which side was winning and which was losing. It was his duty and his work to know these things, even though it didn't make the fighting any less futile in his eyes.

Letting his gaze wander over the battlefield, he watched the red splatters on the ground, heard the crushing sounds of iron against iron and the cacophony of fearful and devastating screams. He still couldn't believe Zagreus would want to come to such a place. A place where there was futile fighting and too much light, but perhaps, it was a world that fit the Prince of the Underworld, as he was the same, even if Thanatos only recognized this fact bitterly.

Finally, the battle was closing in on its end, just like the hundreds of people that found their death because of it. The ones who weren't dead yet slowly but surely started to hesitate and retreat. Even as the personification of death, Thanatos reckoned that a pointless death was scary, even though so many humans chose it over desertion. Their death was inevitable, preordained by Thanatos sisters. Still, he had seen many hold on to the last sparks of hope that they could escape Thanatos' grasp.

And then, on the other side of the coin, were those that practically would have offered their life to Hades and fought to the end.

You weren't an exception. Yes, your quest and pride were your downfall, and by the gleam in your eyes Thanatos could tell you knew. You knew and recognized that you'd die. However, as if you were spiting him personally, you still continued to fight ahead of everyone else, gaining questioning glances from your comrades and contempt from your enemies, which you pulled to the ground one after another and sending them to hell.

Many before you had this overzealous compulsion to make that best out of their inevitable demise. Thanatos would admit that yes, most had a good reason for it, like saving their family or fighting for their own life. Others simply lucked out on the gift of pride and ignorance, forcing themselves and occasionally many more lives with them into the deep, dark pits of death.

What was your reason? Thanatos wondered.

He still had time before he needed to take action, he could allow himself a short - minuscule, really - different thought than his upcoming work, and you presented yourself so nicely to him as the incarnation of death waited for the end of today's battle. It wasn't often that he had the leisure to let his thoughts wander, so Thanatos intended to use these few seconds, which would fall under the radar, to still his curiosity.

By the looks of it, you weren't an inexperienced fighter. Or perhaps, you were just a farmer judging by your muscles. Surely, you seemed enthusiastic about your task, so were you fighting for something more significant than the glory of your country? Family? A loved one? Thanatos couldn't help but be curious about what your drive was, as he had seen so many reasons, yet they were all the same. Perhaps, yours was new?

Even so, you were graceful as you swung your sword around. What did he know about footwork, but at least, yours seemed to pay off as you weren't dead yet. When one of your foes managed to smack off your helmet, Thanatos believed that was it, but alas, you regained your strength, charging at the very same attacker.

In a way, fighting was like an elaborate play. The only difference was that neither of the parties knew the other one's move. The person reacting better was the winner. He couldn't find joy in watching wars, but even Thanatos had to admit that it was a joy watching you. Even if you lacked the enthusiasm as the heroic shades that lingered below, like Theseus, had, you fought a fight worth mentioning in the books as well.

Every move you made, Thanatos could see the calculations in your eyes, that keen shine reflecting in them. The sun seemed to break through the clouds just to reach out to you, making your armor sparkle in its rays. Yes, you were a formidable human, and Thanatos caught himself thinking that it was a shame you were fighting even if you looked so beautifully while doing it.

Taking another deep breath, he could see the swirls in the air left by it. While the winter wasn't affecting him, no matter how little clothes he wore, Thanatos felt a second of pitiful understanding for everyone who had to fight in those conditions. Undoubtedly, the cold armors, freezing hands and weapons, and frozen ground were another nemesis for every soldier out here. Even if their bodies stayed warm from adrenaline and running, it certainly was another reason many of your human bodies gave out quicker, merely submitting to their fate. It was fair enough for Thanatos. It meant his work was over faster, and judging by you being circled and the other soldiers at your side beginning to see the end coming towards them with long spears and sharp swords, it was all over soon.

You had fought bravely, that much he could give you. Perhaps you had impressed him enough to put in an unusual good word for you with Hypnos, who'd pass it on to Hades himself, granting you a shot on being put into Elysium. But your fate had long been decided, and as you fell to the ground, the battlefield erupted in victorious screams, announcing your time of death.

And also, his start of work.

As the winners retreated one after one, happy whenever they found a friend that survived too, Thanatos passed by them and onto the battlefield instead. Unseen by the human eye, he began his duty of reaping, one soul after the other, as mangled and frustrated over their death as they were, following his orders as he shushed them away. Usually, some pleaded and bargained with him for another shot of life, but even if Thanatos had wanted, there was no way for him to help them. But that day, everyone seemed awfully aware that there was no negotiating nor mercy waiting for them as they looked at his figure, frightened and frustrated. A pointless battle, with meaningless deaths, brought forth the self-pity in them, but this wasn't the first battle Thanatos tended to, so he felt nothing akin to that. It also wasn't his duty to take care of the souls gathered here, as it was Hermes' job to lead to them.

He had something very different on his agenda. You.

It was unfortunate for both of you, but when he reached you, you had yet to breathe your last breath. One eye slowly and in pain, opened, the other one damaged from the blow to the head you had received. However, as you looked at him, serene clarity laid in your gaze, and you recognized him, mayhaps by the giant scythe he carried around. Your stare was clear and less afraid than he expected you to be when acknowledging him, but you closed your eyes as a cough overcame you, hot, red blood dripping down your lips.

"Guess that's it," you croaked, and Thanatos could only stare. Conversing… wasn't his strong suit, and there wasn't exactly a reason to talk to you.

"Are you going to kill me?" you continued, undeterred by his silence, and Thanatos weighed his actions. "No, of course not," he eventually spoke, shaking his head slowly, the hood on his head shifting along to his movement.

"Ouch, that's cruel. You'll just wait until I die like this?"

Your words were nothing he hadn't heard before, and he didn't feel offended by them. However, he didn't expect your lips to briefly curl into a smile, adding a jesting notion to what you said. Even that wasn't new, but… it struck a chord inside the usual stoic bringer of death. "I can't end your suffering," Thanatos explained, hoping you'd simply know about the unspoken rule that he couldn't harm you.

"I think, I get it," you heaved, feeling worse by the minute. "You are just making sure I know I am supposed to die here."

That assumption wasn't wrong, even though there had been more playing into his service than just that. Too many kept trying to escape their fate, and sort of, Thanatos was just checking and cleaning up what would be left. You still had some time before your organs would fail and finally take you to the grave, different from the other souls that were already leaving for their new home.

"No, you will die here," he retorted firmly.

"I could," you chuckled, followed by another painful cough.

"Don't test me, Mortal."

In between deep breaths, you allowed yourself a short laugh. Just like him, you were probably aware that there was nothing worse that could happen to your situation, so his threat was just a way he hoped to shut you up with. In silence, he watched over you, until eventually, your eye opened up again. This time your gaze was searching for him - or something really - but your sight had already begun to cloud. No matter how proud and achieved you are in life, in the face of death, everyone looked the same.

"I think I did a good job. You know, fighting. Thought that if I already had to do it, I might as well give it my damn best."

More coughing. Thanatos watched the puddle of blood around you grow by the second. The spear inside your body must have been stirring up your insides the more you talked. Thanatos had expected something like this, you, young as you still were, had been led by the belief that doing your best could make up for the fact that you'd die. "But in the end, it was worth nothing, right? We lost after all."

Thanatos could only stare as he wondered what you expected him to say. He came here, knowing your life would end here, so really, the hope you had put into yourself didn't have the same disappointment to him now as it did to you. And yet, as he listened to you, seeing your body battered up with cuts and bruises, for the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to pity for you, and you specifically.

"Why did you fight then?" he asked, perhaps against your expectations.

"Why? Because they told us too. The King ordered us to fight this battle, and only he could have known how many soldiers our opponent would bring."

"You could have run." Thanatos tried to stay as detached from you as possible, though it didn't quite work, your words taking their influence on him. "Can you?" you retorted before letting out a long sigh. Death was near, literally as well as figuratively.

"Can you run from your duties? You don't have to do this either, do you?"

"I do--"

"Really?"

There was no immediate response this time, your question justified, despite your little mortal soul undoubtedly never understanding the burdens on the shoulders of Gods. The world would stop if they all decided to not continue their work and fulfill their duties and expectations. If Thanatos stopped, no one would die anymore, and but the suffering of everything would never disappear too.

"Dying sucks," you whispered, turning your head away.

"I reckon," he muttered indifferently. Not like he could talk about it from experience. It must be painful, dreadful, and, depending on the circumstances, frustrating too. Right now, though he couldn't imagine the extent, you must have felt so hopeless and so, so scared. There wasn't much other reason for your banter.

"Thanatos… I always thought it was a pretty name, even if everyone feared it." Regaining his attention after finding himself momentarily lost in thoughts, he looked down at you again, watching as your eyelid closed slowly. "Say what you want, but you can't blame them for fearing death, and alas, me."

"Perhaps if they talked to you, they wouldn't be so afraid."

"Meaning you don't feel so afraid anymore?"

A smile danced over your lips once more, a truly unusual sight for a soul so close to their end, and especially after talking to him. Hypnos often teased Thanatos with being too formal and dutiful to be amusing, and Hades beware, comforting. Though he didn't care for his twin's words, yours did make him feel... happy.

"Let's go then," you whispered, and Thanatos kneeled down, his hand falling to your wrist, listening to your pulse. Even with the feeling of your heart still desperately pumping blood through your body, only to lose it through your wounds, you didn't utter another word afterwards. You undoubtedly were dying, but perhaps, for now, you were merely unconscious as your lungs didn't stop reaching for air, and your heart used all your strength to function.

Once more, the sun broke through the clouds, shining down right at you two, bringing Thanatos into the predicament of being blinded as it reflected off your armor. Perhaps he understood it now. Understood how unfair it was that someone like you, innocent and kind, was doomed to die out here. How awful his job on this day was, forcing him to take you to Tartarus and put you before the judgment of the god residing there.

So what if... he didn't.

He couldn't heal your wounds, nor make you feel better. But what he could do is battle the fate, earn the scorn of many, but at least, even if he took out the spear from your bloody body, you'd live. You'd live to tell your tale, and who knew, even he could apply some bandages, so maybe you'd recover some.

It was a risk, and one Thanatos did not like taking, nor found pleasure in executing. But you couldn't refuse to come to this battle, whereas he, perhaps, after all these years, could refuse to do his job once. For your sake, and unbeknownst to him at that time, for his own even more.

His scythe disappeared in favor of Thanatos grabbing for the dreadful spear. Never before had he experience the kind of sound a wound could make from so close, and by the gods, he hoped he never would again. It was just your luck that you were unconscious, or the pain would have perhaps killed you faster than your wounds.

Leaning down, he scooped you up, his hand sullied with your blood and the dirt on the ground. The snow wasn't cold when he touched it, but your body was warm in his arms and still alive. Your threat of fade wasn't cut yet, and he wouldn't do it. With you in his arms, he stepped back, looking into your sleeping face before he retreated from the battlefield with a quiet, "Let's go."

No, the surface wasn't a place Thanatos liked to linger. It was too loud, too wrong, and too bright. But to see your smile, lively and happy, one more time, he didn't need to stay above ground. Where you were going, it was dark and, at times, lonely if you weren't a being born there. But you'd also be safe and alive for as long as you wished to.

And Thanatos would be with you, even if everyone would turn against him and his decision, for all eternity if he must.

#thanatos #thanatos hades #yandere thanatos #yandere!thanatos #hades #hades the game #yandere hades #yandere!hades #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

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leamy-world · 4 years ago

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Reaction to The Devil Judge (spoilers for ep. 11-12)

Hello everyone! I hope you’re doing well this week!

Here we go! Again i’m really sorry for the english & my personal interpretations which might go a little bit overboard (❁´ω`❁)

THIS GOT VERYYYYYYYYYY LONG PLEASE BEAR WITH ME!!!!

tldr: i am in shambles haha

Have a nice week and take care! ♥

- Huckleberryfinn’s new OST, The Nights, was released this saturday and it’s truly a gem! The guitar/bass’s place in BOTH OSTs they composed is awesome. The lyrics destroyed me haha (i’ll shortly talk about it below!). The soundtrack during these two episodes was awesome btw ;;

- Sun-Ah’s visit to the mansion felt nostalgic and shattering at the same time, she sees she doesn’t belong in this house but still indulges a little in this illusion, « wanting to fall for his trick even just for a little while ». Her expression made me feel for her for a little while too ;;

This shot above is funny because the bokeh effect (✨ the little sparkles ✨) is used in the background every time but this time it plays in front of Sun-Ah’s view: she sees in Yohan and his mansion a « shining » thing she desired for a long time. The bokeh here served also as a transition to the flashback right after.

Well, it could just be the streetlights’ reflections on the car and me reaching but there are so many symbolic visual shots in this show already i just couldn’t dismiss it in my brain haha

I liked Sun-Ah’s depiction of her choice to go against Yohan: she drops the necklace (symbolizing Yohan, this scene followed by Yohan’s cross-like scar) and not herself, like she did in the past for/because of Yohan when she was a maid + Yohan’s reflection disappears, Sun-Ah only focusing on herself: the ‘us’ she wanted for some time disappeared. And this event makes Sun-Ah’s rage on K more upsetting than it already is, but maybe i’m reaching haha

This scene also shows Yohan and Sun-Ah want two different directions to their relationship: to use her and to have him reach the top by her side respectively. They both look at the mirror, but their focus is different and they’re set in different plans on the shots.

In My Mister, (SPOILERS) the wife has a serious affair with her husband’s superior, but throughout the drama, they have divergent opinions on their affair’s developments: the wife wanted to leave her husband and settle with her lover, while the latter didn’t think any of it and, among other plot reasons, only wanted her because married women are the ‘safest choice (ending the relationship while she still loves him would be more troublesome) and always kept the affair secret’.

This was particularly symbolized by their song preferences, but also by this shot in the beginning of the series: after the wife shared her hopes about their relationship (and her lover staying most of the time silent), they both look to the distance (their affair’s metaphorical future) but their eyes almost never look in the same direction.

- « I did it because i need you (by my side?) », Sun-Ah and Gaon’s parallels:

"[To Gaon on ep. 8] I wanted you to be by my side.”

“[To Gaon on ep. 5] I don’t need you to understand, but you need to make a decision. Will you stand in my way … or stand on my side?”

"[To Gaon] If i needed to, i would’ve done something even worse. Whether it was switching him or something else.”

- When Elijah and Gaon play jenga, Yohan might have let the door to his bedroom open (even after leaving them the first time) to continue hearing them have fun in the living room. It parallels to the scene in ep. 5 where he watches them play in the garden with Kkomi through the little gap of his curtains: what piques his curiosity first is the playful conversation he hears from his bed even from the closed windows. The flashback explains it all and i’m glad Gaon insisted to have him play with them despite the front he tried to put on, Elijah’s and Yohan’s expressions in this scene ended me ;;

Look how quick he turned his attention to Gaon, as if he waited for something to happen, to get to play with them!! His eyes lit up in an instant i can’t with this —

I loved how Yohan delayed his defeat to Elijah by asking Gaon questions about the game hahah

Elijah and Yohan’s relationship growth here reminds me of 2 parallels i didn’t catch the first time (but the desperation i felt when Gaon left because everything could grow cold again between Elijah and Yohan):

“That’s everything i think about”:

Elijah getting in & out of the car (ep. 6-9):

- And Gaon’s « Once everything is over, i’ll definitely … » — you’ll definitely what, please tell the audienceeeeeeee ;;;; this screams a death flag for Soohyun (or was it just foreshadowing their confrontation in ep. 12? idek anymore haha), but let’s hope it’s not!!

- After CKH’s suicide: we can’t expect people to make perfect choices every time they are challenged, and i think this story shows it well: Soohyun when she was with Elijah, and now Gaon carelessly touching the minister’s body for the files. As judges, they could have searched the body and the room using a fabric to hide their presence. But they’re both shocked: Yohan looks dumbfounded, standing and watching (even though he’s quicker to react when he sees Soohyun and he puts on a composure at the house saying it was ‘nothing’, he looked very sour when Sun-Ah called him to rejoice in her death) and Gaon panic-stricken. The fact he might have relived his parents’ suicide when he discovered the Minister’s body … And in the worst way possible (in a daze, searching her dead body for her files and realizing he didn’t give the body minimum respect) … oof

At least Yohan could have thought about it since the story shows how prepared he is in his plans, but this scene shows even him is at a loss at what to do. After all, the minister was the way he targeted to bring everyone linked to the foundation down. They were so close, i think he was too convinced her « self-pity » would mean her survival despite everything (« Do you have any other options? ») to see what was coming. After all, when they last met, he saw she was about to shoot him.

Sun-Ah was the only one he thought was ‘unpredictable’. When Gaon talked to CKH, he let him speak and approved his speech, surely thinking everything went along his plans and the minister would surrender. And i think that’s also why he gives Gaon all this speech, to reassure himself and them, since they work now as a team.

- Ep. 9 foreshadowing ep. 11 and 12 (Soohyun facing Yohan and Gaon). It’s interesting how the two shots from ep. 9 seem to put on the same plan the three characters, as if Yohan is literally standing between Soohyun and Gaon, as if he was the one protecting/separating him from Soohyun. This is very telling of the whole dynamic between those three.

- When the minister said she didn’t want to clear her name regarding her son in the live but still does so anyway, this is pure preterition haha! It’s also why she reminds the public opinion the first case Yohan handled!

- Cha Kyung Hee’s demise (ep. 11-4 parallels):

(+ a cinematographic reference to the 2000 movie Malèna, which was recently used in Hwasa’s MV for the song Maria)

- The scene right after where Soohyun wipes Gaon’s involvement to the suicide was moving in regards to her character, we get to see how torn she is by this situation + when she faces off Yohan in the parking (and the ‘let go’ could also have referred to Gaon) … i felt bad for her!

- About Soohyun & the professor: I find interesting the way the professor and Soohyun shelter Gaon’s existence was clearly shown with these two episodes and through their rage. At the beginning of the drama, their hold on his life’s values and choices was almost impalpable but not anymore, now that they’re facing Yohan’s threat.

In these shots, Soohyun looks like she is covering Gaon’s ear, turning him away and protecting him from outside (from the pain, Yohan, the rest of the world).

And on professor Min’s part, it’s almost infantilizing, de-responsibilizing Gaon to say the least (« What are you making Gaon do? That child has been through so much. He suffered and struggled through the worst to get there. »), given he’s the one who planted him on the court’s bench to find what’s happening behind the scene: he could have asked Gaon for explanations (as Yohan underlined, « Did you hear it from Gaon himself? ») but he just snaps at him. He should have foreseen that he could’ve taken Yohan’s side.

For his defense, his family just got targeted but still, it’s the first time Gaon came back since then!

(By the way, that whole conversation with professor Min confirmed to Yohan Gaon didn’t admit to their plan to Soohyun nor the professor)

As for Soohyun, her deep concern for Gaon makes her antagonize Yohan and, in her POV, it’s pretty understandable: her friend got locked up in this judge’s house for days with no phone or permission to go out + said judge seems to not let her niece go out with her new friends, got violent against Gaon + he seems to be plotting something behind the trials he biased + Gaon’s description of the man in the first episodes wasn’t that nice but DESPITE IT ALL her friend still seems to be empathizing with him?

She’s maybe thinking he got manipulated by Yohan given the evil picture he depicted her & must feel helpless in front of Gaon’s sudden change of heart. I think that’s what she wanted to ask him when she got cut by the professor’s arrival. The lack of honest conversation between them is what’s making it worse: on one hand, Gaon goes to her every time he feels sad or confused to get comfort & advice without telling what truly is going on (or eventually telling her when she insists), on the other hand, Soohyun always tells him to give up his investigation on Yohan and never asks him his point of view to understand the situation.

And she discovered he lied about him not being involved with this man in the worst way possible, finding him by CKH’s body with Yohan. He was her reason to dedicate her life to protect people under the law (he does not owe her anything in no way, but it was her wish), and she ended up dirtying her hands for him. Her gut reaction to her moral principles being violated by both Gaon and her right now is stronger than wanting to hear the truth from Gaon. She continues to investigate Yohan on her own, to protect him. It was interesting to see this sententious side when she confronted Gaon after all this! The only time Soohyun saw him cry and didn’t support him, it hits hard ;;

But i believe the whole crisis that’s happening by the end of ep. 12 will make them team up again at least for a while. And on that note, will she meet Sun-Ah? It would be interesting!

I’m glad the professor raised as a concern on the live trials the due process & fair trial, which are essential for the rule of law to prosper.

In fact, the live trials slowly become a place of majoritarianism/ochlocracy/mob rule as the cases progress (the two best examples being the actor and Juk Chang cases), the protests against professor Min are another example. Even if Yohan has the last word on the defendant’s sentence, this issue is still there.

Maybe the viewers’ voice will turn against Yohan one day?

- The minister … Even though the story showed us how cruel her family could be, i can’t help but feel sympathy for her son with her suicide. And that is accentuated by the fact her family’s grief is not even showed, covered by the mediatic chaos. She could have fled the country as her son suggested, but she thought she was « nothing » without her accomplishments and her path to glory. As the former president of the foundation killed by Sun-Ah’s hands, she died in her office as the Minister of Justice, while her image wasn’t torn to shreds yet. The photograph she held showed her at the center and, ironically, it’s the only figure from the photo who is clear-cut, her husband and her son are out of focus (or it could just be the episode’s image quality misleading me haha). Even though she loved them (well, at least in her manner, which was kind of narcissistic tbh), she cared too much for her success and her death was her act of self-pity.

- This isn’t the first time Gaon was warned about Yohan and i find it interesting it’s the people closest to him that say that, especially K despite (or precisely because?) his loyalty to him. Elijah also warned him before.

- The whole argument … It’s a progression of ep. 5 & 8 scenes (’will you stand in my way or stand on my side?’ & ‘i wanted you by my side and if i needed to, i would’ve done something worse’). You can tell how desperate Yohan was when he reached out to Gaon. His gaze faltered, showing his hesitation to do it, but as the realization he was going to lose him dawned on him, this touch became a necessity in front of the exigency, making up for everything he couldn’t say out loud. It was a sad & hurtful mess. Yohan truly looked short on ‘arguments’ after Gaon’s question (‘what kind of monster am i turning into?’), he seemed to not even know what to say to make him stay, making him pause before talking about Soohyun.

The way his eyes lit up, almost smiling, full of hope, when he finished laying his ultimatum and how he regained a composed expression, thinking Gaon would take his side maybe?

I didn’t catch it on the first time, but Gaon’s sadness to end/put a hold on their collaboration (thus their whole relationship, stepping out of his life) transpired through him weakly rejecting Yohan’s hand with his own hand sliding down the latter's arm, as if he was unwilling to let this life with the Kangs go. You can see it’s hard on him to leave with the tears in his eyes.

I think Gaon’s response outran his thoughts, as a quick riposte, it was to make Yohan stop this. The way things went (well, it escalated QUICKLY), hurting him like that was the only effective way, and he knows it will hurt him: before saying Soohyun is his world, he tears up because of that (in addition to everything Yohan said and it was A LOT), and didn’t even have the strength/will to get angry like all the previous times:

the fact Yohan laid this very ultimatum and wanted to persuade/manipulate him into thinking this was the only choice. Even if he knew Yohan would be capable of doing this since ep. 7-8 (”To achieve his goal, would he not use another man’s pain? If the devil really did exist among us.”), he got a confirmation and it still hurts.

+ the fact he knows he has to hurt him with something as much as hurtful before he takes it too far.

+ the fact he knows he can’t live in this house any longer because of this argument when he made all these memories with them.

And (let’s hope for it) if Gaon wants to show Yohan there’s another way out of this ultimatum, Gaon’s « Soohyun is my world » might be a counter ultimatum (‘to stay by your side, you’ll have to deal with my world because there must be another way, there is no question, or else you’ll have to deal on your own’). He’s still not said anything to Soohyun (well, he didn’t have the opportunity to anyway but even during their confrontation, when she asked for details, he said nothing) nor the professor, so maybe that’s it?

- « Of course it doesn’t matter to me, but … » ELIJAH NOOOOOOOO ;;;;;;;;; After Yohan, Elijah tries in her way to hold Gaon back — and she makes a valid point tbh (look at what happened by the end of the episode!), but seeing her putting all her efforts and realizing it’s failing is heartbreaking … Given the preview for ep. 13, please let me hope this conversation won’t be their last one!!

- Utter devastation when the next scenes show how Gaon still shines even in his absence: the « You never apologize » + the scene with the nanny & Gaon’s last prepared meal + Gaon’s portrait by Elijah … ugh

- Elijah’s painting game is too strong, can’t relate haha! I wish they could show the BTS for this painting, respect for the artist behind!!

- On metaphorical images, Gaon took care of the Kangs like he tended to his plants at home. On a regular basis, he provided them attention and care, making them lively as his plants got lush. On ep. 8, we got a shot of Elijah smiling at Gaon’s plants, sort of a confirmation she loved how their house became warmer since Gaon’s stay, which led her to open up to his uncle.

- Now they’re only four! It looks like the mafia game haha, i look forward (am i though?) to the day Sun-Ah sits by herself haha

AND THIS MAN

This is true pig behavior, especially considering Sun-Ah’s past … I felt her reaction when he said all this bs to demean her, she had all her struggles with men thrown back to her face, soiled by these « jokes ».

- The monsters, the abyss and Nietzsche:

« He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee. », Nietzsche

- « I don’t care if humanity falls, as long as i have you two ». It was what he wouldn’t say to Gaon nor Elijah, and yet they’re his world! This sequence parallels Gaon’s inner wish when he leaves the Kang’s house + the flashbacks of his fond memories with the Kangs. Will Yohan give his vigilante ideals up for them? Will Gaon pursue this dream but in his own way that won’t threaten their « worlds »?

(Now we know what his whole world meant)

- The light from the chandelier (ie. their newfound family) is out of Yohan’s (metaphorical) reach, shown by its blurred silhouette, as if it’s gone from the room which regained its initial colder tones. But it’s not: once it’s made its way in the room, it remains and lingers, as a keepsake of the lost warmth. His fond memories with Gaon and Elijah flashed back through the window’s light.

On a similar note, Gaon’s room, albeit having warmer tones than the Kang’s ones since the beginning, looks dark too. The contrast with earlier episodes is clear. This reminds me of My Mister’s (SPOILERS) full shots of Lee Ji An’s room, getting warmer as she gets to know Park Dong Hoon, and losing all its fond colors when she has to leave for his sake. As if the room and inanimate objects were given life by their owner, imbuing them with their feelings. It becomes an outer expression of their feelings. Sorry for the rambling but i just love when they do that in fiction, and i think it sometimes leaves more impact to the viewers if emotions are conveyed through various angles (eg. through another character’s point of view, sounds, looks, the use of light i mentioned below, etc) !

- I wonder … since the flashbacks are giving us Gaon’s conscious point of view on this separation, was he awake when Yohan came back from his (forced) encounter with Sun-Ah? It’s a really minor point but it could be an interesting detail since this show always shows us there are some sides or spots to the stories we didn’t have yet!

The jenga scene also flashed back but this time we see Gaon’s POV seeing Yohan’s smile & we got Gaon’s angle when Yohan had a nightmare in ep. 5: while from Yohan’s POV, Gaon’s irruption truly felt like an invasion of his intimacy (the quick succession of shots expressing his panic and defensive reaction), from Gaon’s POV only one angle showed the scene, the tension was conveyed only when Yohan slapped his hand away.

We also got Yohan’s POV when he admitted to Gaon he needed him by his side (and a closer look at Gaon’s troubled expression)!

- Ep. 5 and 11-12 parallels:

Yohan’s tentative look at Gaon and Elijah playing outside, as if he wanted to join them like in ep. 11, the curtains mainly closed and only pushed by one of his hands. It let the daylight in his dark room through this sneak peek.

But in ep. 12, the curtains are drawn, Yohan taking the (moon)light fully in. And this time, he doesn’t reach out to his late brother in the flames, but to the moonlight. He gets up, as in a trance, from his nightmare like the last time, but he goes to his window instead. And it reminds me of both Huckleberry Finn’s OST’s (in Tempest, « you said i’ll live in the sun / moonlight » and in The Nights, « my / your night shines on you / me »), the suffer is here. And see how the light reveals his tear? I nearly missed it!

The fact he could not find sleep anymore after this night + he slept on his sofa where the moonlight could be seen + has kept his phone right next to him (in case Gaon called him or to know if something happened to him) ➾ 🌝 pure devastation 🌝

- I really love the show’s use of light/dark tones to reveal and contrast its characters’ emotions! What you can’t see in the light gets revealed in the dark, and vice-versa. The OST The Nights touches on this subject as well.

And it ties up very well to the plot so far: everyone has his or her own motivations and intentions, background, and makes choices, but depending on the perspective, their story changes and sparks off different reactions. Everybody’s story is interconnected.

As @skylessnights pointed out, one of the books found during the series (when Yohan revealed his past to Gaon if i’m correct), The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, depicts this angle well in its plot and epigraph: « Never again shall a single story be told as though it were the only one. » - John Berger.

When Gaon and Yohan go back to the mansion after CKH’s death, the route lights flash Gaon’s hands red, caught (literally) red-handed by Soohyun. He begins to recollect his recent memories of what just happened, and panics, short-winded, until Yohan touched his arm. He’s startled but calmed himself down, and we don’t hear him out of breath anymore. It’s interesting how the light’s focus was on Gaon’s hands, the core of his panic, until Yohan’s arm came into the light, as if our and Gaon’s attention went back to Yohan’s touch, his anchor in his panic, and begins to think clear-headed of what they had done. (btw, getting Phoenix Wright desperate vibes from Gaon’s pose haha)

Gaon’s emotions show when his phone lights up, trying to reach Soohyun again.

When Yohan’s inner wish brings him back to their happy times, the end of the flashback shows a shot of his eyes dazzled by the light of these memories and back to the present, the light now gone out from his eyes.

Yohan’s reaction to Gaon’s cry in the prison yard in ep. 7: what i loved to see was how his restraint told more about the emotions he held back. The light shifting on his face revealed his jaw clenching & frowned brows, his glassy eyes and him averting his gaze, which he often does when he’s in front of sensitive topics and it’s too much.

+ other instances he looked away:

When Jinjoo decides to accept the foundation’s offer, she steps into the dark side of the room where the two chairmen are. Up till now, she stood where the light could reach her, away from them. It symbolically seals her involvement with the foundation, and by the end of ep. 12, it is confirmed by her message on behalf of the foundation (about the plague) displayed on the screens. By the way, i love the fact so much things unfold while we focus on Yohan and Gaon’s story!

On the subject of ‘subjective’ truths, examples, besides the flashback with the priest about Yohan in ep. 11, could be the truth behind the cancellation of the donation by Yohan or Sun-Ah’s fall from the window when she was a maid. We got Sun-Ah, Elijah, and then later Yohan’s point of view.

- I think Gaon tried to call Soohyun and not Yohan (though the subs say otherwise) because the contact above has the ‘thug’ nickname with the fist emoji! It made more sense, Yohan would’ve answered right away! But i believe he will have regrets/worries in the next episodes (Yohan and Elijah seem to be getting in real danger so maybe he’ll come back to save them).

- Metatextuality in The Devil Judge — Beauty and the Beast (written by Jeanne-Marie Leprince de Beaumont & Disney’s 1991 animation movie)

I’ve always loved transtextual relationships between fictions, my french teacher in middle school gave us this passion haha! Ever since i read this interview translated by @deviljudge, it’s true i’m getting more and more Beauty and the Beast vibes, especially from ep. 12’s argument (and the whole premise Belle got locked up in the mansion in the beginning)! The original fairy tale and Disney’s adaptation are both relevant, some plot points differ from one another (Belle’s sisters vs Gaston, the mansion personnel turned into living paraphernalia) even though the core of the fairy tale is left untouched but for the sake of this bit, i’ll use the 1991 movie because its inevitably longer format delves more into the fairy tale moral lesson.

(Cheesy time incoming haha) The beast lets Belle go see her father he knew she deeply cared about, and let her go because he realized he loved her. He thought she would never come back, but despite it all, she came back and saved him from Gaston. Belle (Gaon) broke the spell that was casted on the mansion (the Kangs and their loneliness, especially when Yohan said he’s tired of this house). Yohan fails at not hurting the people he cares about but learns step by step, by Gaon and Elijah's side, how to live again and reconnect with his ‘human’ side.

Even the secretary looks like the modern version of the whole cast in the Beast’s mansion (Cogsworth, Lumière, …) haha

The movie intro is self-explanatory:

« Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish and unkind. But then, one winter’s night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman’s ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the Beast concealed himself inside his castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his 21st year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast? »

Belle’s characterization in the movie is also interesting:

« With a dreamy, far-off look and her nose stuck in her book what a puzzle to the rest of us is Belle ».

« There must be more than this provincial life (…) I want adventure in the great wide somewhere — I want it more than i can tell — And for once it might be grand to have someone understand — I want so much more than they’ve got planned »

& when Belle got locked up in the mansion: « I’ve lost my father, my dreams, everything. » (similar to “Soohyun is my world”).

Gaon, since his parents’ death, lived his life believing in the illusion of justice the system gave him, along with Soohyun and professor Min, his two pillars who kept him steady this whole time. Once he was showed it was an illusion, he wanted to fight this world.

Before the movie’s climax, this conversation reminded me of ep. 12’s argument:

« - Belle? Are you happy here with me?

- Yes. [looks to the distance]

- What is it?

- If only i could see my father again just for a moment. I miss him so much.

- There is a way. This mirror will show you anything. Anything you wish to see.

- I’d like to see my father, please. [The mirror projects the image of his father in danger and sick] Papa. Oh no. He’s sick. He may be dying and he’s all alone.

- [Glances at the wilting rose] Then you must go to him.

- What did you say?

- I release you. You’re no longer my prisoner.

- You mean i’m free?

- Yes.

- Oh, thank you. Hold on Papa, i’m on my way.

- Take [the mirror] with you, so you’ll always have a way to look back and remember me.

- Thank you for understanding how much he needs me.

(…)

- I let her go.

- [Cogsworth] Yes, splen … You what? How could you do that?

- I had to.

- Yes but … Why?

- Because i love her. »

Yohan did nothing to hold Gaon back even if he needs him (as shown when he clutches his hands together after he left) because he was forced by Gaon to understand how precious Soohyun is to him, this point was already made multiple times in the series (when Gaon thought he was the one who pushed Soohyun in the stairs and already threatened him about it, when Gaon told him he couldn’t live as a conman in front of Soohyun and his parents). Since his ‘to have you by my side, i would have done worse if it was necessary’ + ‘this is a life or death situation, sacrifices are also necessary’, he seemed to think Soohyun was expendable in his own world, which he shared with Gaon. With this argument, his world looks definitely incompatible with the one Gaon described (« Soohyun is my world »), and even though they already went this far in their plan, he lets him go and respects his choice. Will it make him change for the better or for the worse? Will the whole ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ apply to him?

Other moments i found interesting to note:

« Come into the light »:

When Belle goes to save the Beast from the village:

« - Please, i know he looks vicious, but he’s really kind and gentle. He’s my friend. - - [Gaston] If i didn’t know better, I’d think you had feelings for this monster. - - He’s no monster, Gaston. You are! - - If you’re not with us, you’re against us. » (pretty similar to the professor’s rage in the hospital)

When Belle’s father goes to save her: « I don’t care what it takes. I’ll find that castle and somehow, i … I’ll get her out of there. » (when Soohyun talks about and to Yohan)

The Beast possessive behavior in the beginning of the story: « [To her father] She’s no longer your concern, take him to the village. » (similar to Yohan’s behavior towards Soohyun) & « [To Belle] The castle is your home now » (and towards Gaon)

A monster:

When the Beast observes Belle playing from afar:

- And i saw some Jane Eyre vibes (SPOILERS) from the whole fire haha + Wuthering Heights on Sun-Ah’s & Yohan’s mixed parts!

- And well … Sun-Ah’s character loosely reminds me of Simone in Nier Automata (which in itself is a reference to Simone de Beauvoir’s life and works), with the whole « I must become more beautiful / But he still won’t look my way », to whoever knows this game!

- These thigh boots holy hell Sun-Ah!!!! i loved this outfit!

- As soon as he said he didn’t feel anything from his revenge, K got the biggest death flag in this episode, i can’t believe they did this to the poor boy … When i asked for more scenes THIS isn’t what i meant aaaaaaaaaa

- A very random and weird note: Yohan’s almost silent and held back pain by the end of the ep. 12 fits his character so far, as well as his ‘calm’ tears. Given his past, it’s as if he’s always kept his pain bottled up and quietly bears it all and almost never got the space to properly let it all out (he had his brother, but with their father, i think they didn’t have this ‘chance’).

- My sick mind thought Sun-Ah was going to bring Gaon to the scene just in time for him to witness Yohan getting shot, but i guess it will be when she will get in the Kang’s mansion again according to the preview (since she asked Juk Chang for a « favor », i think they’ll knock Gaon out after beating him up for his own fun to leave him to Sun-Ah). Sun-Ah looked surprised when Jae-Hee shot him, so i guess only hurting K was part of the plan.

- The ‘I know i’m fucked’ look hahaha

+ the softer version:

- I now have BIG trust issues since these last episodes’ previews, and the cliffhangers kill me haha

- On another note, i find it amazing how Ji Sung and Kim Min Jung keep that upsetting atmosphere whenever there’s a scene between them that involves them and skinship, but it still conveys Sun-Ah’s complex feelings for Yohan and Yohan’s interest in her! The soundtrack really does a good job to convey that mood as well!

- In conclusion: How Dramatic do you want these two episodes to be? The devil judge: Yes

#the devil judge #tvn drama #my ramblings #got veeeeery long #i'm sorry

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bansheeoftheforest · 3 years ago

Note

Ramble about angst from amnesia ghost au?

Oh boi here i go

ALSO DO NOT HOLD ME RESPONSIBLE IF I REPEAT STUFF. My brain is teeny tiny pea sized smooth like fucker and I do not remember what we have talked about before and I physically cannot come up with angst by myself <3

Ok ahaha I am not sure! If I came up with new ideas! Or if i accidentally mixed shit!! But !!! My brain physically cannot come up with angst and I TRIED to keep this angsty but... heh <3

At first, of course, Henry doesn’t even realise that he is dead. He wakes up somewhere-- he can see the stars, it’s night, yet the sky is illuminatingly polluted by the warm lights from apartment windows that all seem so far away. His body feels numb, and it’s so silent. He tries to sit up, he feels... Light.

He feels his chest rising and falling, yet he does not feel himself taking in any air. He is hidden somewhere, he is sitting behind a few dumpsters and rubble, he doesn’t know where he is. He tries to look at his hands, they are see-through. He looks at his legs-- his legs aren’t see-through. It’s not his legs.

He turns, and on the ground where he is sitting, he sees the wrangled corpse of a man-- pale skin and blue lips, hair dirtied with coagulated blood, joints and bones and limbs bent in ways that shouldn’t be possible, clothes torn. The man had just died. He doesn’t recognise the man, but he doesn’t need to. It takes a few moments of staring into those wide-open, empty eyes and then looking back at his transparent body to know that it’s his corpse. But... Why can’t he remember anything?

His head is empty, and not only because he has no physical body. He sees how his tongue has rolled out of his limp mouth of his corpse, he sees the fractures in his skull, he can see the flesh. He has no physical body, but he can still feel it.

He stands up-- or whatever the ghost equivalent to standing up is. He watches his body, he looks down on himself. He is a mirror image of his physical form. He reaches up to his own head, and he can feel the crack in his skull. He reaches to his chest, and he can feel the broken bones poking out through his clothes.

The body... It’s indifferent to him. At the same time, he gets overwhelmed by such an urge of protectiveness. He doesn’t understand it, not until he hears the footsteps of someone coming closer and closer.

He sees a shadow by the opening of the alleyway. He blacks out. He doesn’t know what he did until he hears an ear piercing scream and sees the body of a woman getting thrown against a wall. He doesn’t know what happened but he knows he did that. He doesn’t feel remorse, no, yet he has no chance of finishing the job before she has already fled screaming from the scene.

Henry is not done just yet.

Henry does not let anyone go anywhere near the alleyway for a week straight. Anyone who dares come close will feel themselves getting tossed and thrown around like a chewtoy, thrown against walls or other people. It’s not until an unfortunate victim ends up with cracked bones and a hairline fracture in their skull that the police has had enough, they are going to get to the bottom of this. They question victims and witnesses, and in the end, they decide to call in the local ghost expert.

Maijabi arrives at the scene quite quickly, the police part to let him through. Surprisingly, Maijabi actually manages to enter the alleyway with no problem, yet his ghost detection device is beeping in warning. He turns a corner, and that’s when he finds it-- or him. On the floor, bloodied and rotten, lays the corpse of Dr. Henry Jekyll, unrecognisable from the consequences of his gory demise and his many days used as a feast by the rats and stray dogs roaming the neighbourhood. His eyes are gone, his skin has sunken in, patches of flesh has been ripped from his body. Maijabi drops his device. It takes five seconds before the Scotland Yard calls his name and tries to enter the alleyway in fear of the ghost haven taken him as a victim, too. They find Maijabi staring at the corpse, it does not take long for the police to gasp in a mix of fear, disgust, and horror.

They try to get to the body, they try to move it, but as they feared, the ghost as not calmed down. They hear screeches mere moments before they get thrown against a wall, making Maijabi snap out of it.

Ahah wowo i just realized I spent quite a long time with this alone but anyways so I dont repeat that one post; Maijabi manages to trap Henry, his haunting screams of agony only worsens the trauma and horror that has already infected those around him. He screams, he begs, he pleads, but no one can understand what he is saying. It’s not until the cops move his corpse and his wallet falls out that he calms down so slightly, suddenly fixated on nothing but the wallet. Maijabi picks it up and opens it, the first thing he sees is a group picture of all the Lodgers. He places it in Henry’s trap to calm him, and then he takes him back to the Society.

(Well, this is specifically for the vengeful branch of this au branch but ye <3)

Can you imagine the absolute horror and sorrow Maijabi would be going through in such a short time? After all, it was never unusual for Henry to be away for... Well, what’s it been, a week? Now Maijabi is left with Henry who doesn’t know who he is and who wants nothing but to hurt anyone in his path, now he is responsible for telling the other Lodgers.

When Henry isn’t destroying lab equipment or possessing Lodgers, regardless of if he is free to roam or trapped, he will weep and cry but he never knows why. He just feels terrible and lost, sometimes he gets struck by such an overwhelming sense of sorrow and anguish he can do nothing but to... Well, weep. No matter how scared or mad the Lodgers are, they all feel so terrible when the weeping echos throughout the Society.

Henry has the ghost equivalent of PTSD after his death. He gets flashbacks and panic attacks when he suddenly remembers his death or other trauma he suffered throughout his life or death, even if he can’t remember his life. Regardless of if he is generally violent or not, Maijabi always does his best to calm and help him.

Jasper volunteers to let Henry possess him and (I’m going to switch over to when he ISN’T violent for these ones) spends time with him. Henry doesn’t know who Jasper is but he feels a little less lonely and slightly better when he has someone who cares for him and spends time with him. In the beginning, they could only have Henry possessing Jasper for short moments because the poor boy kept getting overwhelmed with Henry’s emotions, and Maijabi and the other Lodgers worried that the amnesiac affect would bleed onto Jasper. It didn’t, though, so while they work on trying to regain Henry’s memories, Henry clings to him. It goes a bit overboard once Henry starts developing separation anxiety, and he constantly worries that something will happen to Jasper.

Jasper keeps having flashes of Henry’s life and how he died. He wakes up crying most of the time, and since Henry is the first person he sees when he wakes up, he gets panic attacks, yet he refuses to let Henry down and make things even worse for him, yet it makes Henry feel worse knowing he is torturing poor Jasper.

If it isn’t the vengeful branch of this au, Henry would be found by Maijabi curled up against the wall where his body was. Maijabi, at that point, would already have known that it’s Henry’s body has the ghost wasn’t violent and the cops could take the corpse no problem. He finds Henry weeping, but he gets overjoyed when he realises that Maijabi can see and hear him. Maijabi leads him back to the Society but Henry never stops crying. Maijabi is not sure if his shirt is wet with blood or his own tears.

Weeping. So much weeping. Exploring the Society while weeping. Dancing in empty ballrooms while weeping. Spying on the Lodgers while trying to stop his weeping. Henry weeps constantly and he can’t stop it.

The weeping and Henry’s sorrow only got worse when Helsby snapped and told him to shut up. The Lodgers immediately began to yell at Helsby while Henry locked himself into an empty room and cried harder. He doesn’t know what he did wrong or why people don’t like him, he just wants to be liked.

#ask #ghost au #banshees au #anon percy #Im just. GOing to hope that this is alright bc i physicall cannot write more on this <3

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chews-erotically · 4 years ago

Photo

Waxing Gibbous

Pairing: Ezra + femNurse! Reader

Rating: Hard M / 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Angst/violence/gore/blood/mentions of prostitution/SMUT(eventual)/veryinaccuratesurgicalprocedure

Honestly words have been fermenting in my brain for many moons. I am new to this, so please be gentle. I have written before, however never for a fandom. Special thank you to @yespolkadotkitty and @rzrcst for their support and encouragement, it truly means the world to me.

Summary: You are a nurse on the Green moon contracted to care for a group of prospectors. An act of violence forces you to flee your camp. Ezra finds you.

Words: 2376

PART ONE

The first time Ezra fell, it was with the Saters. You’d been hunched in a cordoned-off section of tent, dust motes waxing and waning against the haze of thick, dank air. At least you could breathe, a small mercy it was to remove your helmets and sit unfettered in the musty inner folds of the makeshift barracks.

The Sater stank. When he sneered at you, his grey lips parted to reveal the jagged tombstones of his teeth. When you had first sat down and dispelled with the perfunctory greetings, choking down the offering of what always reminded you of unsweetened Turkish coffee mixed with engine oil, his eyes made no attempt to hide the way they had raked over you as if you were some shiny toy. Or a bag of meat. You were under no delusions when it came to the fact that you, by nature of being female, were going to be ogled. Still, it left you no less disgusted as you fought to keep your face impassive while his eyes honed in on your chest.

Ezra sat beside you on the narrow bench, hunched forward with forearms balanced on knees that were spread to allow for his head to clear the sunken canvas ceiling. His expression was equally neutral, the only hint of tension showing in the tight bunch of muscle at his jaw. He knew as well as you that if the sater did not accept the barter, things would turn dark.

Ezra had been here longer than you. Stranded with no transport after the crew he’d arrived with turned on each other over dig locations and payload disbursement. The pod they’d arrived in had been burned, irreparably damaged and left no more than a husk in the Green due to the short-sighted fury and bullheaded ire of his hired compatriots. In the fracas, he’d sustained an injury to his right arm from a rogue thrower shot. In retrospect it could have been much worse, but the spores of mold that made the air so toxic had worked its way into his flesh the same way selfishness and suspicion had seeded the demise of his partners.

You were hired as a nurse to tend to your own hired prospecting crew, lured in with promises of adventure and treasures beyond your wildest dreams. You had known there had to be a catch, you were not so naive to believe that consequence could elude you, but you had signed the contract anyway hoping for more than the dreary clinic you’d worked in for the past five years. You were alone, you were lonely, you had no family. Your few friends had steadily drifted away from you as they met their own partners, started their own families. You were left to the ether. So you signed almost without thought when the recruiter came, signed before you had time to think it through, because you were aware that if you thought too much you’d talk yourself out of it. You knew all too well how adept you were at talking yourself out of things.

So, you’d arrived on the Green and things had proceeded as planned, uneventful for the most part. The others on the crew were respectful, if a bit distant. Nothing untoward had happened until a contractor by the name of Jorin began to take a particular interest in you. At first you’d been able to politely deflect his advances. Showing up in your tent unannounced, he feigned all manner of illness and injury to get your attention. Over time he became more aggressive, invading your space until you had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was not welcome. It was not until he’d followed you back to your cot and tried to push you down that you’d snapped. You hadn’t meant to kill him, but the scalpel you had hidden in your fist had found its way to his carotid artery nonetheless. So you left, and you were blank and in shock and covered in someone else’s blood when Ezra found you.

He’d stood, imposing and straight-backed, hand on hip while his head followed your shambling approach. Your adrenaline was waning, and you shuffled forth on trembling legs, hands held aloft in supplication. When you reached his clearing in the midst of dense vegetation you noted his mouth moving at light-speed, the hand on his hip twitching toward the thrower he had slung across his back. As you got even closer you noticed his eyes were wide. You were not on the same transmission channel so you could not hear him. Your hands gestured as if underwater, left hand tapping your transceiver while your right held up three trembling fingers. When Ezra understood he switched the channel and immediately his animated drawl was filling your helmet.

“.....cannot fathom how you are standing in my sights looking like you’ve been baptised by Lady Bathory herself, alone? Please do tell this lonely old prospector how in Kevva’s name above you’ve found yourself in such a state of affairs?”

You noticed immediately that he did not seem at all frightened or wary of your appearance, just confused, and….excited? You gazed up into the visor through a constellation of blood spatter and freed your tongue from its bone-dry cavern, swallowing thickly.

“I didn’t mean to kill him. He tried to, to��..he came after me.”

Ezra stepped forward in what seemed a conspiratory move. You froze. Taking note, he’d immediately stepped back, but his dark eyes fastened to yours with an intensity that made you feel as though he could see through you into your very essence, every shameful childhood memory, every flaw and triumph as readable as prose on paper.

“Intention rarely informs the realities of snuffing out the flame of mortality. Between intention and action there lay an endless array of variables, something I know as well as my own name. In all my time on the Green the one thing that continues to ring true is that people here take. If you have nothing to offer, they will find something to take.”

He straightened before continuing, “Given that you are appreciably female I can imagine what it is he believed himself entitled to. You have none of that to fear from me, little stranger. I am but one lost soul amongst this verdant hellscape.”

You were still processing the events of the past several hours, and it took you some time to accustom your ears to the man’s mellifluous cadence. The people in your previous company had been stilted, blunt, mostly monosyllabic. This man before you spoke as if convinced his words would alight and manifest whatever sacred force or unimagined color the universe deemed fit to spew forth. It was incongruous. You considered your next words carefully before you spoke.

“Do you have a dwelling? A tent? I hate to impose, but this is my only suit and I’d like to get as much blood out of it as I can.”

That was how you’d become acquainted with Ezra. You’d exchanged names as you walked to his tent, and all the while Ezra pontificated. The tent was modest, two cots arranged across from one another. Equipment stacked along one canvas wall, while texts and notebooks spread across a folding table toward the front entrance. Ezra explained where the water source was located as you both disconnected your helmets and stripped your suits. The blood splashed across yours had dried to a dull rust. Almost as if it could be something other than blood. Almost.

You’d set the suit to soak in cold water and truly noticed the man in front of you for the first time. He was tall and broad-shouldered, thick locks jutting chaotically from the dome of his head and curling around the lobes of his ears. A shock of blond colored the seam of his hairline. His brow was lined with years of tension and unrest. Wide, dark eyes below pronounced brows. A prominent aquiline nose. His mouth, still moving. Always moving, as if he were trying to get every thought he had out of his head before the hourglass ran out on him.

Your eyes were next drawn to a dirty bandage circling his arm. You’d been so lost in your head over the strange turn of events that you did not notice the barely perceptible wince as he inventoried what appeared to be dried ration packets.

“What happened? To your arm, I mean?”

Ezra sighed deeply before answering. “Merely a flesh wound from an errant thrower blast while my crew and I were in the midst of parting ways. It was a most unsavory affair, I’m afraid. I don’t believe the weasel wielding the staff even meant to shoot me.”

You stepped closer, eyeing the torn, worried cloth. “You have to be careful. The spores in the air will seep into everything, especially an open wound. Your bandage is filthy. Do you mind if I take a look?”

“You have experience with dressing wounds?”

“I’m a nurse.”

You were wholly unprepared for the brilliant smile that split his face. Suddenly you could see the younger, roguish man that he had undoubtedly once been. You were suddenly overwhelmed, you could not understand how the heart in your chest fluttered as desperately as a bird beating its wings against the cage of your ribs. You felt close to panic as you realized that you were reacting this way to a man you did not know.

Careful.

“Kevva above, I must have done something right in a past life as I’ve done nothing in this one to deserve such a fortuitous gift! A nurse! An angel of mercy, a dove of benevolence!”

You felt heat rush to your face, and you cursed your feeble emotions as you turned quickly away from him. Please, ignore my abject idiocy.

“Med kit?”

“Ah, of course. My apologies, Dove, I forget myself.”

You pointedly ignored the unprompted endearment as any further contemplation on this new development would lead to literal hysteria. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Ezra sat at the table near the entrance, sweeping the array of notebooks and papers to the side. You pulled up a crate once taking the med kit and unwrapped the soiled bandaging. You understood how awkward it had to be to dress a wound with one hand, and so you were able to forgive the haphazard application. He hissed and winced again as you revealed a very red, open and angry wound bed assaulting the meat of his right bicep. Black had begun to settle in around the ragged edges. It did not look good. Your gut sank as you noticed the purplish pucker of skin surrounding a crater that oozed and tunneled, purulent drainage saturating the underlying gauze.

The mold had done a spectacular job of decaying what would have normally been a straight forward traumatic thrower wound. You were shocked that Ezra was not screaming in pain.

You kept your face studiously blank as you set out supplies: a vial of Ancef, sterile saline, bandaging, gauze, antimicrobial foam, hydrogen peroxide, a basin, and the scalpel you’d kept clutched in your fist as you’d fled. There was an injectable narcotic preloaded, you offered this to Ezra and he shook his head, his eyes still and worried. He knew it was bad, and he was scared. A wave of melancholy slammed into you and without thinking, you reached out and laid your fingers gently on his wrist.

“Hey.” He met your eyes, and they were old. Ancient, and filled with what was akin to an existential weariness. You had to dig the toe of your boot into your calf to keep your eyes from filling with tears. You cleared your throat. It did not sound like a noise you’d make. You wondered who you were, really, before speaking.

“I’m going to do the best that I can. It won’t be pretty. Your wound is badly infected. The black bits are necrotic, and if I don’t debride your wound it will spread. I’m going to try my hardest to save your arm. This is going to hurt, so I really think you should take the injection.”

Ezra’s solemn gaze swung to fasten on yours. After a pause of internal debate, he simply nodded. You filled the basin with hydrogen peroxide and placed the scalpel in. You picked up the preloaded syringe and sterile gauze and quickly discharged the narcotic serum into Ezra’s left deltoid. His eyes soon took on a haze of detachment, pupils constricting to pinpoints.

You picked up the scalpel and got to work, and Ezra finally screamed.

He kept his arm impressively still while sweat cut rivulets down the planes of his face. His jaw clenched so tightly you feared his teeth would crack and splinter- you’d finally and wordlessly paused your work to place a length of spare leather strapping between his teeth, which he clamped onto like a feral dog.

You worked quickly and wordlessly, cutting ribbons of spoiled flesh from the blessedly granulating bed of tissue and muscle beneath. Your mind worked in circular prayer, asking forgiveness from the universe for killing, for hurting. Ezra’s flesh was a sacred scroll and you were inscribing your texts upon it, begging for deliverance. It was not lost on you that the same scalpel you’d used to snuff one life was carving death out of another.

When the deed was done, you reconstituted the Ancef and injected it into the meat of his buttock. You did it quickly, too wrung out and disturbed to feel impure. There was nothing prurient about what had just happened, nothing sexy in his agony. For all of its intimacy it was brutal and ugly and traumatic. At that moment you were inextricably bound to one another.

#Ezra Ezra Prospect

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taeslovehandles · 4 years ago

Text

The commercial - Shortstory

It had been quite a while since Seokjin was able to enjoy his games freely. Play long into the night while trying to win against Yoongi and Jimin that had picked up Teamfight Tactics because of him.

The lockdown was annoying, mostly because the members couldn't see their fans at all, but it also meant more freetime. All the members were finally able to pick up hobbies and activities they hadn't been able to do with their fully packed schedules.

It was great and most of the group actually spend time with their families or meeting friends. Seokjin however played games. A lot of them. All day and all night. He had ordered takeout and drank lots of soda. Taehyung and Jungkook often came by to eat and play together and sometimes Hoseok would visit with cupcakes and new receipts for his Hyung to try.

The year went by quickly and with it came changes. Heavy changes. Sitting all day without exercising and constantly stuffing your face had it's toll. And it was showing.

-Knock Knock-

Nothing. Seokjin didn't hear ithe knock. He was too panicked finding jeans that still fit him.

"Hyung?"

A shirt landed on Namjoons face.

"Hyung what are you doing in here?!"

"Joonie...Joonie I'm having some issues okay? Look." He pulled his way too tight shirt up to reveal a proud and sagging belly with wide and thick love handles. But the most prominent feature was his wide bubblebutt. It was massive.

"Oh."

"This is a bigger problem that a simple 'Oh' Joonie. These were my fat jeans Joonie. My fat jeans won't go over my thighs!"

That was a problem. But Namjoon couldn't shake the thought away how unbelievably hot his Hyung looked like that. To his demise his reddened cheeks couldn't either.

"Uhm... That is an issue but... I actually came here to ask if you read the group chat for the new schedule?"

"No. As you may have noticed I got bigger problems right now." Massive problems.

Namjoon bit his lips. "Well..."

"What is it?" Seokjin tried once more to get his tight shirt over his belly. It didn't even cover half of it. Good god he really let himself go.

Namjoon rubbed the back of his head. "Well the news you're about to hear won't be good ones then."

"Just tell me already. It can't be worse than this." He gestured to his body as he slightly jumped up and down. Everything jiggled. God Namjoon was glad he was wearing wide sweatpants and a hoodie to cover his erection.

"Well. The company accepted a new agency and we are having a shooting tomorrow for a commercial clip."

"Oh." Now it was Seokjin that said it. His eyes widened as his brain slowly realized what that meant. "Oh my fucking god. This is..."

"Bad?"

"Terribly bad. Shit. What am I supposed to do now Joonie!?" Seokjin truly panicked now. He had nothing to wear. How was he even. Fuck.

"Suits."

"What?"

"They told us to wear suits for the shooting. That's all I know." Namjoons red cheeks were still pronounced on his face. He only eyed Seokjins rare like five times.

"Oh god. I can't wear my suit though?"

"Well-" And Namjoon hated himself for suggesting something that was obvious but he was literally drooling over Seokjins wide ass. "Maybe your suit still fits? You should try it. The fabric is more stretchy. You didn't gain that much." He did. Seokjin looked like a version that ate Seokjin. Each asscheek as big as one curled up Seokjin. No way was the man gonna fit in his old suit. But Namjoon couldn't help himself. He needed to see this.

"No I haven't tried them on yet. Let's see." Rummaging through his closet, Seokjin pulled his black suit out and held it over his body. "And you really think -that- still fits in there?" He grabbed part of his jiggly big butt.

"It might be a bit tight but it should fit." Why was Namjoon like that. It wouldn't fit. Not in a million years.

"Alright then let's try it. Nothing to lose."

------

A disaster. It had been a disaster. Not only did Seokjin rip the button of his pants but also ripped his entire shirt open at the seams. And if that hadn't been bad enough the poor man also ended up splitting his pants in the process of hunching over to pick up the popped button from the ground, presenting Namjoon with his wonderful underwear. An underwear that had also been too small revealing a big asscrack. Great.

-sniff-

"What am I supposed to do now Joonie?" Seokjins eyes looked teary. He was about to burst into tears.

"Hey shh. It's okay. I know a shop that basically lives off of situations like this."

"People getting too fat for their suits?"

Namjoon pinched Seokjins nose. "No dummy. People that need a custom tailord suit within 24h. I'll call them and we buy you a new one for tomorrow okay?"

Rubbing his nose Seokjin looked hopeful now. "Okay...Thank you Jonnie. You are a life saver."

---------

The suit had been made with ease and Seokjin looked presentable for the shooting the next day. Namjoon had been nice enough to inform the other members about their Hyungs 'weight struggles' and asked them to be scincere as well as to not mention it around him or stare too much.

But it was hard not to stare. The man that entered the shooting was huge. Seokjin had really packed on the pounds this past year. So much that his butt had touched the door frame on both sides slightly. The members did not mentioned his weight gain nor did they stare. At least not when Seokjin was looking.

"Hey guys. Sooo does anyone know what this shooting is for? What commercial are we filming?" Seokjin asks curious but also a bit embarrassed. No one had said anything about his new figure yet. He was glad they didn't but he still felt out of place.

"Hyundai is revealing their new S Class and we will be the new ambassadors for them. It's a huge deal apparently." Yoongi answers.

"Oh. Okay. Cars. No that's. That's cool." Seokjin was starting to sweat. He hadn't sat in a car for a year and didn't know if he would even fit in one anymore.

"Do you know if we-"

"Alright guys. Please come over here and stand infront of the car. I want three of you sitting down and the other four standing around it please." The director yells from across the room.

Standing. Seokjin would definitely stand. He scooted next to Namjoon on the left side of the car to slightly lean against it. Somehow look cooler.

The director looked at them and took some test shots before directing them for multiple different shots. Some with everyone walking toward the camera. Some with units of two to three and Seokjin really thought he would be able to finish this without getting into any uncomfortable situations. He thought that too soon.

"Alright. I will be taking action unit shots now. I want Mr.Kim and Mr.Park for this one please. Just stand next to the car for now please."

Seokjin did as he was told until the director kept rubbing his beard. "Mhmm actually. Can Mr.Kim please sit inside the car and get out after Mr.Park says his line?"

"Sure." Oh god Oh god Oh god no why please. At first Seokjin kept calm. He opened the door and sat inside. Or more so let his heft pull him into the tiny seat. His belly was in the way and he couldn't close the door because of it but the director seemed to like the casual look of Seokjin only sitting halfway in it with his legs outside.

Jimin said his line and then it was over. Seokjin tried to get up and out of the seat but his butt wouldn't budge. He tried again. Nothing.

Jimin whispered. "What are you doing. Get up?"

"I can't." Seokjin whispered back. "I'm stuck." Oh this was a nightmare. How in the world was Seokjin supposed to get out of this with his pride in tact?

"Cut." The director glanced at Seokjin when he spoke more firmly. "Mr.Kim is there a problem?"

"Oh uhm. No. It's just." He laughed akwardly. "You see. I really like this car and I was thinking maybe I could just keep sitting in it for this tape?"

The director cocked his brow as he obviously looked the man up and down.

"I agree!" Jimin came to his rescue. "Wouldn't it be a more dynamic shot if Seokjin keeps sitting and me walking toward him as I say my line? That way the car would be more in the focus." Jimin you smart son of a bitch. Seokjin truly loved his members.

"Mhmm. Alright let's try it!" The director sat back on his chair and Jimin winked at Seokjin before leaving to get ready for his walking scene.

-------

It was a blast. The scene looked good and right after Jimins and Seokjins shot they switched to another car color with Namjoon and Hoseok. This gave everyone else time to figure out how to get Seokjin out of that damn car.

"Wait don't pull on my suit! It's gonna rip!"

"Hyung we need to grab you somewhere though. " Taehyung pouts.

"Yah. Less talking more pushing." Yoongi had climbed onto the front seat and was pushing into Seokjins butt to somehow get him free.

"This isn't working." Jimin states.

"It would work if you'd help me push or pull him." Yoongi was out of breath. But not giving up.

God Seokjin just wanted to disappear into the ground and never come back out again. His members hands were everywhere on him. Squishing his fat without succeeding in getting him out. He had never felt so embarrassed.

It took them 15 minutes until they finally managed to pull him out of the car seat. Unfortunately Seokjin had somehow managed to press one side of his butt against the steering wheel and the hall was filled with a loud honk.

Whoever had been busy and not staring at the members did now. And Seokjin was standing there with his jacket open and a ridden up shirt that revealed his jiggly lover belly as well as wide hips poking out of his pants.

He stood there and laughed akwardly. He had to diet. He'd start tomorrow. Or maybe in a few days.

#taeslovehandles #wg story #ripping pants #bottom heavy #chubby bt5 #idk I felt like it #lol

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lastluvbug · 5 years ago

Note

Oh my god I read the one about Kalim’s suicide after waking up and got emotional all morning. The angst hurts but I can’t have enough of your writings. Can I have a continuation of it, with Kalim’s friends (the second years, the light music club, even Vil) after the whole thing? Like they try to go on with their life but it’s clear that nothing’s the same anymore and they miss the sunshine boy more than they thought they would? Thank you so much!

Toxins (Part 2)

Here we are, love! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Language, referenced suicide

Crying wasn’t like Cater.

But after Kalim’s school-held funeral, that was all anyone could ever see him doing.

Oftentimes, it was silent sobbing into his hands, makeup streaked and runny, hiccups stifled. Comfort did little to provide solace, as he’d simply wipe away the water still leaking from his eyes, smile, and pretend like nothing ever happened. By the outside... it almost appeared as if nothing had ever happened. He was still as camera addicted as usual, still attended class and mingled with his fellow students.

The only difference was perhaps the breaks he had to take between every period, when he’d run to the bathroom to clear his eyes of the built up liquid they’d collected, or maybe it was the way his laughter felt dull, robotic even, or the way he began eating bigger and bigger portions at mealtimes. No one batted an eyelash at Cater when he had to be wrestled out of the mess hall by Trey, who already had himself busy with tending to a Riddle Rosehearts who’d become increasingly strict in upholding the Heartslabyul rules once again.

The serene noiselessness that enveloped the Music Room seemed all but soothing, a vacant memory filled with empty afterthoughts of what it used to be.

Sitting before Kalim’s abandoned drum set, Cater stared at his foggy reflection in the suspended cymbals, inept hands clutching drumsticks that should’ve been used to make a song. Eyes slitted, Cater cried once more, beads of translucent agony dripping onto the forgotten brass.

“...Cater? What are you doing here?”

The ginger looked up stiffly, the lights flicking into action as he made brief visual contact with the last remaining member of his club, Lilia Vanrouge. The shorter tilted his head slightly, standing at the foot of the door, as Cater exhaled a breathy laugh like he’d been so accustomed to doing. “Lilia... I just... needed some time alone, is all. Nothing to worry about.” He grinned, betraying the droplets that formed pretty trails over his visage.

“It’s... It’s about Kalim, isn’t it?” Lilia prodded, voice low as he stepped fully into the room. He didn’t require a reply, as Cater’s sagged shoulders and clutched drumsticks revealed everything he wanted to say. Solemnly hanging his head, Diasomnia’s vice lumbered over to his grieving peer, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not fair...!” Cater wailed before Lilia had even touched him. “Kalim, he’s—he’s not here anymore, and it seems like I’m the only who cares! He was suffering, so much... and I didn’t... didn’t have the brain to see it!”

Lilia’s wide magenta orbs locked onto the weeping boy, whose blood red diamond had nearly been washed away thanks to the water pouring over it. Kneeling, he gripped his shoulders firmly, forcing Cater to meet his stare. “Cater, you can’t blame yourself for this. You couldn’t have known what he was feeling, none of us could. It’s a tragic thing, to have lost someone full of so much light, but you have to understand that—“

“...You don’t get it either... didn’t he mean anything to you people?!” Lilia froze midsentence, his hands pushed away harshly. “Why? Why am I the only one who cries over him?! I didn’t even know him that well... but I don’t want Kalim to be forgotten! I don’t want to wake up everyday, knowing he’ll never speak to me again! Never make music, with these stupid sticks!” He lamented, tossing said drumsticks away, the carved wood skidding across the hard flooring.

Draping his palms over his face, Cater sniffled, Lilia speechless on his knees. Huffing a petulant sigh, the ages-old student spoke quietly, as if afraid to shatter the glass he knew he treaded upon. “Cater, in all my years... I’ve seen my fair amount of demises.”

“H... Huh?” Cater stopped, makeup-blackened tears ceasing as well.

“I’ve had to watch friends, loved ones, even family, fall. Some by the hands of fate, and some by their very own. And thus, I’ve seen how humans react when it comes to such occurrences. You aren’t the only one who cries over the loss of Kalim, I guarantee it.”

“Th-That’s...” He trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s not true! Riddle does nothing but hole himself away in his room and behead people anymore! You can’t call that coping!”

Lilia stared him in the eye, words frank and pithy. “Cater, tell me, what do you think he does behind those closed doors? Why do you think he’s become so sensitive to even the smallest of mistakes?”

“Because...! Because...” Cater caught himself, finding that he had no answer to retort with. “...I don’t... I don’t know.” He responded after a pause, holding his head in his hands.

“This is Riddle’s way of coping. Kalim was a dear classmate to him, and now, there’s no getting him back. He’s gone, we have to live with that truth.”

“Then what about you?! Why aren’t you reacting at all? Wasn’t he a dear clubmate to you?” Cater shot, voice thick with emotion as he felt the weight of Lilia’s authenticity asphyxiate him.

“Simply because I know that wherever Kalim is now, he’s happy,” he smiled softly, folding his hands in his lap, “I didn’t know that Kalim was suffering so, but now he’s cradled by the arms that come past death. He can finally rest easy, the way he was meant to in the first place.”

Cater looked down to Lilia, glassy eyes widening to see the glittery tears that pooled in the corners of the other’s, a soft smile at his lips. For a split moment, Cater could see no one but Kalim as Lilia opened his arms, amaranth streaked hair and magenta eyes shifting into pure white and candy red.

Hiccuping, Cater fell from the seat before the drums and onto his knees, being carefully pulled to Lilia’s smaller, yet wonderfully soft frame. Hit like a bag of bricks to the stomach, misery stole Cater’s oxygen as he sobbed, clinging to Lilia like a petrified animal.

“Don’t worry guys! We’ll do great at the performance tomorrow!”

“Keep it up, Cater! You sound amazing, just one more practice song!”

“Oh, a picture? I want in! Haha, cheese!”

Kalim’s childish voice echoed in the room, the ghost of a caress against his cheeks making the ginger bury himself under his peer’s chin. He felt as if he’d never forgive himself for overlooking Kalim’s pain, every heartfelt compliment or encouragement from him becoming bland and tasteless upon the realization that they were all empty words, meant to fill him up with false courage.

“Cater, he may be gone, but as long as he stays tucked in here,” Lilia tapped on his head, stroking his messy orange hair, “the magic will keep his memory alive. That’s perhaps the best gift we can give him; the guarantee that he won’t be forgotten. Not as long as you, and I, remember him, right?”

Cater inhaled a quivering breath, nodding as he parted from Lilia’s warm arms. “R-Right...” He nodded, using the back of his hands to clear away his streaked makeup, leaving a smudged mess instead.

“Let’s get you back to Heartslabyul. It sounds to me as if you could use a little conversation with your dorm leader.” Lilia prompted, standing and offering his hand, to which Cater accepted.

“If I must... oh! I need to get those first!” He cried, spinning on his heel and traipsing over to the discarded drumsticks. “I’ll keep them safe for him.” He grinned, earning a sly smirk from Lilia, who now stood outside of the club room.

Joining him, Cater sent a glance over the lone drum set, replaying the times from when Kalim would lean over them with a smile, waving as he entered, guitar strapped across his back. It didn’t hurt any less, but it reminded him that somewhere out there, Kalim was waiting for him, for that day when he’d return his drumsticks.

Switching the lights off, Cater shut the door cautiously, heart simultaneously lifted and sinking as he left, those invisible hands drifting away as he strode farther from the Music Room.

<————>

Treading down the busy hallway felt more like wading through swamp water to Silver, each student seeming to obstruct his path in any way they could.

Heading by the open walled courtyard, the grey haired Diasomnia boy’s gaze softened, looking to the vacant blue sky holding the warm sun as it’s only attraction. Running a finger over the rim of his grasped textbook, Silver sighed out of a brew containing both frustration and awe, feet instinctively guiding him about the corridors as his mind wandered elsewhere.

Every single waking day had been the shining example of a picture perfect storytelling, like something that had hopped from the pages of a fairytale since Kalim’s overcrowded funeral. No rain, no clouds, just the pure sky and the giggling sun.

Silver had half of a mind to call it unfair, for a tragedy to be celebrated and honored with such weather. Though, he had to admit he didn’t know Kalim as well as he wished. The boy had waltzed into and out of his life with alarming ease, both of them sharing the same class together and bonding over their blatantly oppositional personalities. If it weren’t for Kalim’s persistence, Silver probably wouldn’t have even remembered his name, let alone dig himself deep enough to call him a friend.

After his passing, Silver’s academic world just went... dull, following the same drearily tedious routine, and beginning to fall behind in even the most basic of lessons, simply because he found it impossible to keep himself awake for more than five minutes at a time.

Kalim had been the one to help him in class, had been the one to discover how to shake him to consciousness, both physically and mentally. Whenever Kalim was around, Silver wanted to skip his unhealthily long naps, painstakingly addicted to the boy’s light that practically radiated from him, filling any room he set foot in with warm magic.

Now that he laid still, taken by the hand of never ending slumber, Silver felt blank, like he was caged in the perpetual state of an emotional reset that declined progression.

So lost sorting through his muddled mind, Silver nearly fell backwards as he slammed headfirst into something firm, making his eyes water as he rubbed the liquid away, a yawn escaping his throat. “Hah? What’s this?” Growled a scratchy voice, making Silver snap to attention. He came face to face with a brawny Savanclaw lackey, a freakish two heads taller than Silver, the student nearly shrinking into a ball at the murderous glare sent down his direction. “Ah, it’s one of those Diasomnia pricks. What, beating us to a pulp in Magift and trampling over our test scores isn’t enough? Now you gotta own the whole damn hallway?”

“H-Hey, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about... If I could just—“ Silver attempted to reason, trying to get past the wall of muscled students, all bigger and stronger than him.

“You wanna play dumb now?” The other rasped, grabbing Silver by the collar of his uniform and lifting him in the air as he stalked dangerously close. “Listen here, bastard, just because my dorm leader tucks his tail at the sight of you doesn’t mean I’ll do the same! I have no idea who you think you are, but to me, you’re no better than baby cats who yip—“

“Alrighty fellas, that’s quite enough!”

Twisting with what little leeway available to him, Silver found the source of the voice to be Ruggie Bucchi, another member of the beastly dorm. “Ruggie? The hell do you think you’re doing?” The bigger boy barked, tightening his grip on Silver.

Crossing his arms and smiling slyly, Ruggie marched over to him, not an ounce of fear on his baby-face. “Look at him, bud. The poor guy’s practically shaking in his shoes! I think you’ve done enough to scare him, so put him down, you’re tarnishing the Savanaclaw name.”

“Enough? He ran into me! If I don’t threaten him now, then who’s gonna put him in his place later?!”

Ruggie clucked his tongue, floppy ears twitching in annoyance. “Let’s get one thing straight here; you weren’t threatening him, you were aggressively complaining. First, comparing him to a baby cat, which by the way, would be called a kitten, is neither intimidating nor masculine. Second, dangling him in the air like a doll proves nothing more than what you lack in brain, you make up for in brawn, hence why you’re practically a brick wall of muscle. Third, if you’re going to threaten someone, do it properly, you brutish simpleton.” Ruggie smirked, standing on his tip toes as he narrowed his eyes.

“Now, I suggest you tuck tail and scram before you show everyone here that you’re as composed as a bitch in heat.” He threatened, hands on his hips as the animalistic boy’s ears drooped, heeding the maliciously ingenious hyena and dropping Silver, who was close to choking thanks to the constricting pressure on his throat. Legs too weak to stabilize his body, he collapsed in a heap on the ground, textbook flying a few feet away, hacking his lungs out while trying to drink the sweetly refreshing air.

After the roughly uncivilized students scampered off, whispering curses and profanity Ruggie scoffed at, he huffed, bouncing over to Silver and extending a single gloved hand. “Um... you okay? They didn’t hurt you, right?” He asked.

Spluttering into his elbow, Silver took the hand, brushing the dust off of his black school suit and suppressing the yawn that fought to rise in his newly released esophagus. “...I’m fine. Thanks for the save...” He bowed awkwardly, avoiding the shorter’s stare. Without anything left to say, he stood turning away. “See you.” He sluggishly bid, starting to leave.

Ruggie was inches away from letting him go, until he tossed his glance to the floor, noticing the thick book fallen face first a few steps from him. Scooping it up, he flipped through a few of the pages, hoping to find something interestingly personal before returning it to the original owner. What he found was... beyond what he’d imagined.

It was a history textbook, the very first page carrying Silver’s signature, a cursive so intricate, it bordered calligraphy with all of its whorls and intercepting lines. At a glance, it didn’t look anything worthwhile, a few scribbled notes here and there but nothing out of the ordinary. Secrets weren’t revealed until Ruggie flipped to the center of the book, his normally neutral face contorting out of shock and intrigue.

The writing on the edges of the paper, where the fine print of knowledge past left indents and gaps of white space lay, were little notes penned in two vastly different handwritings, one quite obviously belonging to Silver. The other was unrecognizable to Ruggie, but reading the script was what led to him the creator.

“Silver-kun, Silver-kuuuuun! Did you hear what Trein said? I was too busy doodling!!”

“Kalim, you’re going to fail the class if you keep nodding off, y’know.”

“Yeah, I know I know..... but at least I stay awake most of the time!”

“Pssh, so mean, using that against me! Sit with me at lunch today, and maybe I’ll share my notes.”

“Oh! Alright, Silver!”

Ruggie was blown away by the authored conversation he stumbled upon, reminded of the distance growing between owner and eavesdropper as he sent a startled look up from the book. “H-Hey! Silver!” He called, having learned the sleepy Diasomnia student’s name.

The other paused, looking over his shoulder to watch as Ruggie weaved through the river of people, holding out the textbook once he’d managed to stand beside the grey haired. “You dropped this back there... it is yours, isn’t it?” He asked, feigning an ignorance Silver doubted.

“Yes, thank you very much. But... how did you know my name?”

“Eh, you’re from Diasomnia. I bet the whole corridor of people here know your name.” Ruggie waved, almost sweat dropping.

“...If you say so. Thank you for returning my book... I’ll be out of your hair now.” The other sighed, tucking said book under his arm while wearing an expression that simply felt subdued.

“Ah—wait! I’m pretty sure you’re a second year, can I walk you to class? Wouldn’t want to run into someone again, right?” Ruggie wasn’t given a verbal response, only a hitch in Silver’s movements and a mild nod.

With his arms fanned out from his head, Ruggie walked alongside the enigmatic teen, who remained eerily silent, his hazy eyes and apathetic stare giving him the hint that he was lost deep in thought, a thought that must’ve been distasteful. All too altruistically eager to break the silence, Ruggie brought up thr only topic that seemed to occupy anyone’s mind. “So... you were friends with Kalim?”

Silver flinched, directly halting in his tracks, eyes hidden by his overgrown bangs. “W-What... What did you know about him?” He asked, the flow of students never once ceasing around them.

“I... well, other than the fact that he was rich... not much.” Ruggie admitted, fiddling with an ear.

“That’s it? That’s all you knew about him, even as a second year yourself?”

“Wait, how did you—?”

“He talked about you like you were some kind of idol. He talked about everyone that way.” Silver whispered, eyes still hidden. “He was what everyone wanted to be, the only real person here who didn’t carry any ill intentions for anyone. Even that Viper, who used him for what? Years?” He continued, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt.

Ruggie had nothing to say. What could he say? Kalim, to him at least, was a fun acquaintance, a buddy he’d occasionally fall back on for spare change or home cooked meals, of which were made by Jamil Viper, the Viper that Silver was quite obviously placing the entirety of the blame upon.

While drama wasn’t something Ruggie was aiming to stir up, the hyena had to admit... he didn’t find anything Jamil did to be wrong. Kalim had ideas, grand as they may be, but he hadn’t the skill or the focus to execute them, pushing the work onto Jamil and Jamil alone. Ruggie saw no problem with the vice using his talent the way he did.

“I wonder how he feels now... knowing that he’s the one who drove Kalim to such measures. But... I can’t say I’m any better. How could I have been so ignorant...? I may as well have damned him to death too, watching him deteriorate every day. Watching him... fake that cheery smile, and never doing a thing about it.” Silver seemed to be working himself into a craze, hands covering his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Hey, don’t take this on yourself y’know...”

“Why not? Tell me Ruggie, why. Not? My ignorance is what killed him, and now, I have to sit through class after class after class of reminders. Reminders of how I failed my duty to—“

“Geez, you’re annoying,”

“H... Huh?” Silver froze, finally opening his eyes to meet Ruggie’s cheeky grin.

Ruggie offered no explanation as he grabbed a hand, dragging him off through the hallway. “I may not be the best at comforting, and I’m certainly no Kalim, but... I think it’ll be okay. That’s what he liked to say, right? Yeah, he’s not here anymore, but are you really going to let what he believed in die?”

Struck speechless similarly to his rockstar guardian, Silver gaped like a fish out of water, silently allowing Ruggie to pull him along. “He knew there was good in everyone,” Except himself, Ruggie thought, but had the brain to hold his tongue, “he’d want you to move on, to love in his place. This, what you’re feeling now, is the farthest thing from what he wanted. So... you should smile. You can live without Kalim, you’re stronger than that.”

Ruggie stopped, a few steps away from Silver’s designated classroom, holding his clutched hand up as he spoke, smiling gently, like he actually believed the speech he by chance strung together. Still, any excuse for a better hope was a good one to Silver, so, he ducked his head, forcing out giggles that after a minute, ended up too real. “U-Uh... did I say something funny?” Ruggie stammered, eyes wide in confusion.

“No, it’s just—“ Silver let go of Ruggie, lavender eyes shiny with the aftermath of laughter, “—you remind me of him.”

Ruggie flushed, turning red to his ears as he spun away, covering his mouth and pretending to cough. “Y-Yeah, sure, whatever. Come on, let’s get you to class!”

Chuckling, Silver sped up to close the rapidly growing space between them, running a clammy hand through his argent hair. In complete honesty, he meant what he’d said.

Albeit too assiduous and orderly to be a carbon copy, Ruggie held one same trait that so painfully reminded him of Kalim; his confidence. While Kalim was a leader, Ruggie preferred to follow. While Kalim was extravagantly grandiose, Ruggie was self-effacing and simple. While Kalim had dreams of far off lands and magic carpet rides, Ruggie stayed firmly planted on the ground.

But for certain, the one thing they both shared the same substantial confidence to just... be themselves.

And it was that confidence that made Silver wish to cling to Ruggie, protect the light that he failed to do before.

“Oi! Silver! You coming?” Ruggie called hands on his knees as he waved from further down the hall.

“Hm? Oh, yes, yes I’m coming!” Silver smile back, having realized he stood alone in the middle of the passage. Once again dashing to join the hyena, Silver made a vow, a vow that no one would hear other than himself.

“I promise Kalim, I’m not forgetting you. I’ll never forget you. But this time... this time I want to do things right.”

<————>

The rushing of water from the tap was the sole sound in the Mostro Lounge, accentuated only by the brisk chill that followed the lifeless restaurant-esque space.

It’d been that way since morning, the hollow flooring catching the footsteps that walked over it and tossing the sound against the walls, creating an echo Floyd Leech didn’t think was possible, what with the amount of furniture and decor lined about. Switching off the water, and the only audible commotion in the lounge, he tossed himself onto a stool before the polished bar, setting his hat aside as he laid his head within his large, white gloved hands. A sigh escaped him as he threaded his fingers through his deep teal hair, almost feeling as though he was glued to his seat.

Despite the deafening quiet that would blow any normal person’s eardrums out, Floyd closed his eyes, heavy from premature exhaustion, and heard not the empty silence, but instead voices. More specifically, he heard Kalim’s voice; his cheering, the laughs and giggles that seemed reserved for Floyd and Floyd exclusively, even his sobs after he was thrown across the desert by one of his trusted companions.

Swimming through the sea of his memories made his eyes burn with an indescribable solemnity, his hands tugging rather roughly at his hair as the memories grew into a thousand pictures behind his shut eyelids, each of them painting Kalim an angel in all of his bubbly optimism. And while Floyd was naturally agile in water, even he found himself drowning in the sorrow that replaced a past stemmed from charm and delight.

Broken like a hammer through glass, he was all but ripped from the isolation of his over imaginative brain by the doors of the Lounge being thrown open, the conversation of the two welcoming themselves in drifting over to his sensitive ears. He paid them no heed as he slumped on the bar counter, inexplicably cold while heartache whittled away at his chest.

“Ah, Floyd. Jade and I were just discussing, and there’s been an alarming drop in the amount of customers attending— Floyd?” Azul faltered, cutting his debriefing short as he noticed the state of the lithe eel.

Hunched over, head collected in his hands as he carded his fingers through his hair, Floyd looked the model of a kicked puppy, not a trace of his carefree smile on his lips. Beyond confused, Azul turned to Jade, who simply folded his hands and smiled politely, mincing over to his brother.

Jade didn’t need to do too much investigation to find the source of Floyd’s troubles, already knowing full well that the reverse of his brother’s attitude was a byproduct of Kalim Al-Asim’s death. The funeral was what sealed the transformation, Floyd’s laugh disappearing altogether as he turned away from the outside world, whether he was aware of it or not. Most days, he tucked himself away in the Mostro Lounge, polishing the same glass until in could be used as a mirror, or staring blankly into the distance, becoming especially clingy to both Jade and Azul. Any prodding was met with a lackluster response, any attempts to push him towards re-venturing back into the convoluted world of society with dejected refusals.

Sitting in the stool beside the mourning boy, Jade reached out, settling his hand on Floyd’s back as the other jumped at the touch. “Floyd?” He asked, earning his brother’s familiar glazed attention.

“Jade...? Oh, Azul, too... I’m sorry, did I do something wrong~? You guys look like you’ve seen a ghost...” He laughed unimpressively, placid smile not quite reaching his dual colored eyes.

“Floyd, please explain what is troubling you. I hate seeing my brother this way.” Jade pleaded, leaning on a fist as he expectantly stared at him.

“E-Eh? Where’d you guys get that idea from? Hehe, I’m alright, Azul, Jade.”

“No, Floyd, you’re not. As your colleague and friend, I ask that you indulge us on your turmoil.” Azul chimed in at Floyd’s nonchalant display, years of memorizing his roller coaster-like moods revealing the cracks in his façade.

Drooping defeatedly, his smile vanished as he fell onto the counter, tracing imaginary shapes into the smooth marble. “I... I miss him...” Floyd whispered, only audible because of the noiselessness.

Jade perked up, sharing a pitiful look with Azul before rubbing circles onto Floyd’s back. “You’re referring to Kalim, correct?”

The other nodded, sighing heavily as he hazed blankly at the positively reflective surface below him. “It’s—I just can’t... wrap my head around the fact that he’s gone... Sea Otter is gone, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.” He said quietly, the sting in his eyes returning as he swallowed thickly.

Azul tipped his hat as Jade’s circles ceased. The passing of Kalim hadn’t particularly affected Azul, as ashamed as he was to admit it. It, at the very least, was supposed to attract more customers, in need of a distraction in the form of fine food and drinks. But for Floyd to have lost his spark... the cogs in Azul’s brain couldn’t comprehend how the two had even managed to become close after Jamil’s overblot.

“I remember,” Floyd started, sliding a thin finger over the edge of the counter, “how he used to laugh at everything. Sea Otter was so energetic~! Always bouncing to and fro, like a hyper little siren. When did... when did that all stop? Why did it all stop? Is it a curse from land-dwellers to feel this way...?” Floyd asked his friends, seeking genuine answers to his inquiries.

“Floyd, what you are feeling is grief. You are mourning over the loss of a... a comrade.” Jade hesitated, speech for once unrehearsed.

“But he was more than a comrade to me, Jade! I didn’t feel so... out of place with Kalim. He embraced the world around him, in all of it’s cruelty, with open arms. I don’t get it! He—he... he...!” Floyd wavered, hand reaching up to prod at his gold eye, which now spilled thin water over the rim of his cheekbones.

He was... crying? Why was he crying? Wasn’t that something said to be impossible for merfolk to accomplish?

“Hey, Azul... what’s this?” He asked with a joyless laugh. “Am I melting...?” He smiled bitterly, the current dribbling down in an irritatingly slow pace.

Not half a second was given to Floyd before he was enveloped by two arms, in all of their lissome strength. Azul couldn’t think of another thing to do; he’d never seen him genuinely cry before. “No, you’re not melting, Floyd.” The hug was stiff, the tallest eel’s hands on the edge of his seat while water scattered about.

“I’m scared, Azul...” he whined, sniffling. Jade flinched, the downright hopelessness of Floyd’s tone striking a place in his heart that nearly brought him to tears as well. “I can’t—I can’t lose you two. I can’t. Please, promise you won’t leave me, like Sea Otter did?” The very thought of being alone was enough to bring Floyd to trembles, was enough for him to toss away his pride as he looked to his brother, his friend.

Moving as swiftly as the flowing waters of the sea, Jade lifted himself from his seat, twining his arms around both Azul and Floyd, most of the focus turned towards the latter. “Don’t be ridiculous. As your brother, it is my responsibility to always be by your side. Always. The death of a friend doesn’t change that, nor will anything else.” Jade soothed, pressing his forehead to Floyd’s.

“Ah, Jade is right. While I may not share familial ties, I believe it is my duty to stay with you two. After all, who else would have the impertinence to stand up to your spontaneity, Floyd? Certainly no one from around here, I’ll say that much.” Azul added, earning a chuckle from the comforted.

“So... it’s a promise then? You won’t leave me?”

“Never,” Jade and Azul replied confidently, successfully sealing off the last of Floyd’s tears as he used his gloves to soak up the excess.

Finally returning the hug with ten times the force, Floyd sighed out of relief. Though, he still felt the incomparable pang of gloom over the loss of one of his companions, the twang was cushioned by the soft words of his near-family, their eager reminder that even if their world was changing, they’d have one another to rely on.

Nothing could replace a life, Floyd knew that eerily too well, but that doesn’t mean that he couldn’t move on. It might take a week, it might take a year, but as long as he still had them to guide him, then maybe the pain would ebb away in a matter of months.

With their promise written across the slate of his heart, Floyd let his laughter splash across the lounge.

Some part of him felt that if Kalim could see him, hear him right now, he’d been laughing too.

<————>

“Roi de Poison, may I come in?”

“Door’s unlocked, Rook.”

Granted access by the curt invitation, Rook welcomed himself into Vil’s room, having returned from yet another rowdy wrangling session of dealing with Epel. The blonde was expecting to see his dorm leader fussing over his presentation, either in the form of reestablishing his blade sharp cosmetics, or redoing his naturally flawless locks. Instead, he was met with a scene that broke his fully enchanted heart, the magical symphony in his ears screeching to a halt.

Vil sat at his elegantly carved vanity, a thick book with yellowed pages flipped to somewhere close to the center spread before him, twisting an equally as golden bottle in his hand while the other tousled his loose hair, free of it’s usual braided crown. What perhaps made Rook double-take the most was the all natural look Vil wore, the tips of his nose and ears dyed an unhealthy red as not a smear of makeup hid the semi-wet trails reflected in the spotless mirror.

“Vil? Fairest, what ever is the matter?” Rook inquired hastily, skidding over to the beauty’s side and kneeling before him, feathered hat temporarily set on the floor while his head of canary hair still rose beyond the edge of the vanity table. “Vil...?”

“Do you know... what this is, Rook?” Vil asked out of the blue, holding the golden vial to the light.

“...If I had to guess, I’d say that would be an antidote.” Rook responded, having studied nearly as hard as Vil on the subject of poisons and cures.

“Correct. This... This is the antidote that could’ve saved him. I could’ve saved him.” Rook could taste the burn of Vil’s self doubt, the blame he took upon his shoulders as he desperately tried to look into Vil’s lavender irises.

“Non, Vil. It’s been said before, and I’ll not stutter when I say it again. You cannot control anyone but yourself. What Kalim did was of his own volition, you could not have done a thing to prevent it.”

“Do not lie to me, Rook Hunt!” Vil shrieked, rattling the table after he slammed his fist onto it. “If it weren’t for the poison I handcrafted, Kalim would be alive right now! If I would’ve chased after him the minute I realized the bottle was missing, then maybe—no, he would not have had the opportunity to use it! It’s my fault this happened, and now the blood’s on my hands!” Vil shrilled, delicate hands concealing his face.

Struggling to create a refute, Rook placed his hat back onto his head, standing to his full height. Circling behind Vil, he stared into the mirror, at the broken beauty who wallowed in the depths of his own despair before him. He loathed seeing Vil in such a state, poise and elegance replaced with a fiery fury aimed at no one but himself. He couldn’t bear to see him tear himself down.

Exhaling quietly, Rook laid his gloved hands over Vil’s, gently prying them away. Picking up a brush, he let it hover above his mauve-and-platinum hair, only setting it down on his scalp when Vil nodded ever so marginally. “Vil, my king, the fairest of us all, it pains me to no end to see you like this. Do you realize how dishonest it is to harbor this blame?” Rook rhetorically asked, noting the way his green orbs locked with purple for a split moment.

Brushing through the last section of Vil’s thin hair, he set the brush aside, peeling off his gloves to instead grab a comb, folding and looping the strands as he continued to speak. “What Kalim did was out of your jurisdiction. Yes, you may have made the poison, but he was the thief who stole it. Yes, you were too late to have realized it was missing, but had you sent me after him, he would’ve drank it before I could save him.” Rook assured, sealing off the crown and moving onto the next area in need of his expertise.

Lifting Vil’s chin with a curled finger, Rook brought a new besom to his eyes, painting on a deep violet shadow over the lashes, of which he diligently extended with top of the line mascara. Having someone else so casually apply his cosmetics made Vil’s shoulders sag as they released their tension, almost leaning into the affectionate sweeps were it not for his budding insecurity.

“How can you say that when it’s quite obviously my fault?” Vil murmured once his vice paused to reach for a shimmery lipgloss.

“Don’t you see? Kalim would’ve found a way to end his life with, or without your assistance. You were just naive enough to fall for his game, and thus, you now hold within you a guilt that doesn’t belong. Mon ange, let this grief go.” Rook finished, capping the gloss and smiling broadly, waving towards the mirror.

Turning to his reflection, Vil did nothing to hide the satisfied grin that formed, appreciative of the effort the blonde-haired hunter was investing to comfort him. “What if... deep down, I still blame myself, at the end of the day?” He asked, twirling a section of his hair around his painted nail.

“Fret not! I shall sing you lullabies until you can rest soundly at night. This tragedy will be a memory far faded after I’m done!” Rook sang, offering a hand as he bowed.

“Alright, Rook...” Vil chuckled, taking his hand and squaring his shoulders as he stood, balancing on his thin heels. “...I hope you will make use of that promise.”

“Anything for you, Vil. Now let us depart for supper, the dorm was ordered to keep their paws to themselves until you arrived.” Rook urged, spinning over to the door. Swinging it open, he gestured out to the hall, smiling. “Shall we?”

“Indeed. Let’s go.” Vil nodded, clicking out as Rook followed close behind.

Kalim still weighed on his mind, the boy’s peacefully shut eyes as he laid in that glass casket forever an image burned into his brain. He made a dire mistake that day, leaving the poison unguarded in his bathroom, even just creating it in the first place, but Rook helped Vil realize a truth that eased the sting, if only lightly.

He hadn’t known Kalim well, the first full conversation between them only occurring the day of his demise. Part of Vil found solace in the fact that Kalim’s death was quick, a brighter alternative to anything else Kalim would’ve attempted. The other part wept for what his knowledge of poison brought, the pain he’d inflicted on not only Kalim, but the rest of the school in tandem.

Still, holding his head high, Vil wasn’t going to let the suffering crumble him. Antidote clenched in a fist, Vil dropped it in his concealed pocket, the vision of elegance and poise.

Though he may have had a hand in Kalim’s downfall, he wasn’t going to let himself make a foolish mistake like that again.

<————>

Kalim Al-Asim’s death did not come in an ear piercing bang or an uproarious festival. It came not in sweet whispered nothings or love brimmed words. It came not as peaceful or soothing, but by preference spotlighted with nothing except a dark room, a clear night, and the whitest moon the sky had to offer.

Time had been at fowl play, some days passing within the sound snap of a finger, and some lasting for aeons painted in dull colors of anguish and shame. The people were mortified by the discovery, even more so to find that the act hadn’t been committed by the sinful nature of another, but instead the self destructive hatred of himself. Blame had been a projectile, shot into anyone who even held his name inside the confines of their brain, running amongst them like a smooth stone over a pond of ice until there was no one left to terrorize.

The wayward mechanism of coping bore down on everyone, weighing them with ten thousand pounds of a hopelessness they could neither hide nor run from. At their darkest hour, the entire venerated school of Night Raven College was brought to their knees by the passing of optimism personified, their trust a fractured knife used to stab skepticism and condemnation into the hearts of anyone who dared raise their bowed heads.

But even the dark of night must soon come to an end, the sun of a new day bringing a dusk painted in the hues of resumption over a horizon of black. It started with an idea, a finicky thought that grew until it could no longer be held within the sole mind of the creator, escaping from a pair of lips upturned in a rare smile that shortly spread to the listeners.

The idea spread like a contagion, from one to another, dorm to dorm, student to teacher, until every person shared the unison objective, some setting upon a laborious work to meet the desired outcome. Tirelessly, the students used the extents lf the gifts bestowed upon them, whether that be the farthest reaches of magic, or the unique skill to create banquets of delectable food.

It was far from a single day job, many returning to their rooms with sore muscles and blistered hands, the only thing driving them through their hard hours being the vision of the payoff come the conclusion. The prize of their exertion was a spectacle even a stranger would find extraordinarily echanted.

On a pedestal above the normal person’s head, crafted from the best brass up for the taking, stood a perfect recreation of Kalim Al-Asim, each detail scrutinized by the expecting eyes of none other than the mourning Jamil Viper.

Though he took it upon himself to mold the finer minutiae, he accepted every numerous offer of assistance with the bulky creation of the base, sending out handwritten thanks to each participant. Using too many sleepless nights, Jamil poured his strength, his breath, his heart into smoothing out the edges, refining the statue until it looked so real, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it up and moved.

The unveiling had been as palatial as Kalim would’ve wanted it to be; Jamil planning and throwing a celebration that welcomed nearly every resident of the campus, brandishing and explaining the statue in a way that made even Mozus Trein’s heart of steel melt.

Still... standing before it felt surreal, almost sorrowful. Dressed in his dorm garb and clutching his signature staff in his left arm, he waved out to the Scarabia he protected with his free one, a broad smile swelling his cheeks, eyes wide and curious. It had been the students’ choice to place him at the entrance of their dorm, believing Kalim’s face a fitting first sight upon entrance.

Drenched with gold in the early morning light, he smiled angelically as a lone figure knelt before the pedestal, hand tracing over the plaque carved into the stone base.

“I hope... I hope this did you justice. It was all I could give you for now; I know it’s not much, but this way, your legacy will carry on.” Jamil whispered, laying his forehead on the smooth metal.

Though he may not live to see it, Jamil wished with the very power of his soul that Kalim’s statue would last a lifetime, perhaps even longer as he stood and left, the words engraved finally visible:

He who breathed laughter,

He who stood proud,

He who was strong as the current of the ocean.

In fond memory of Kalim Al-Asim, the light in a world of shadow.

May we all discover the same strength he held.

Oki dokes! I didn’t originally plan for a continuation, so it took a little long bit to spark my ideas.

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading! Special thanks to @lionheartanotheraccount for the request!!

Stay lovely!

#twisted wonderland #twst #kalim al asim #angst #cater diamond #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #jade leech #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #ruggie bucchi #jamil viper

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