#This scene in the original really struck me

[the-east-art]

I remember now

[micamicster]

okay in the spirit of the previous post we are going to brute force me into sharing random scenes from fics that are either unfinished or never going to be finished! we are going to do this collaboratively (im fair and benevolent) but i don't want to give any information about said wips (im cruel and dictatorial) so this is going to be a blinded poll <3 vote here <3

[thedragonagelesbian]

I DONT REMEMBER THESE LINES BEING CLASS SPECIFIC IM SCREAMING...

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[flawseer]

#30 - "Your Choice"

Smaugust 2024

I am very fond of the second arc protagonists. They are my favorite collective of plot focus characters, which may be evident by the fact that I've been drawing them more than any other in this challenge. They are a very charming group, even if a few possible character connections are vastly underdeveloped (Moon and Turtle, Winter and Turtle, and Winter and Kinkajou could probably form very strong bonds if they were explored).

The flipside of fondness is usually the formation of strong opinions. I think about these guys a lot. One thing I initially thought was fine, but then struck me as strange on a revisit was the ending of Moonwatcher's book. You have the group (sans Winter), who previously struggled to accept Moon for her unintentionally invasive powers, ostensibly overcome their mistrust of her and solidify their respective bonds with her. Kinkajou in particular tells her that, because she makes no secret of her thoughts anyway, it doesn't matter to her that Moon can read her mind. Up to there it is all very wholesome and heartwarming. Moonwatcher then decides to give them an out, sharing the secret of Skyfire as a way to block her powers. This is a good and very noble gesture, really showing her trustworthiness and respect for their privacy here.

But then they actually take her up on that offer, right after stating they are over their misgivings. I get why they do it--Moonwatcher's uncontrollable power is really inconvenient and annoying to be around--but backtracking 5 seconds later makes their previous declaration of acceptance ring a bit hollow. If I could make a choice here, I would really have liked this to turn into a long-running character arc for the group, where they gradually learn to trust Moon and eventually decide that they don't need the Skyfire anymore, taking it off for good. And Moon in turn could work on refining control over her power so she can be around her friends without accidentally reading every thought. Maybe all of that could have been a scene in the arc 2 finale. But at the very least I would have liked for Kinkajou to stick with her original declaration and reject the Skyfire outright, signaling to Moon that--contrary to her mother's words--the powers are not a curse and that she doesn't need to be ashamed of them.

I guess here is an idea for potential fanfiction: Make them chuck the Skyfire in the bin. Let Moon see that her friends choose to hang out with her even if they can't block her powers.

-----

Long comic today. Sorry it took a while to come out. I think this is the longest one I've drawn for this challenge too.

Just one more day and then Smaugust will be done. I hope you have been enjoying this so far. Thanks for sticking with me.

[inaconstantstateofchange]

Who Builds Theseus' Ship?

This ties in to a greater discussion about Larian's changes to the game post-Full Release, and whether you consider those changes to be a good thing or a bad thing. Personally speaking, the quality-of-life and gameplay mechanics improvements were appreciated, while the direct changes to characters and especially characterization were not so much.

In such discussions, I often see people downplaying the actual changes to characterization that have been made thus far as "minor" things, but I often see one of the most glaring examples of a characterization change left out, because so many people aren't even aware of it ever happening:

Halsin.

For those who don't know, if you were romancing Halsin at the time of the original full release, and for almost four months afterward, if you took him with you to Act 3's orgy scene in Sharess's Caress, he would open up about a situation in his distant past. He would tell you about how he had briefly been "something between guest, prisoner, and consort" in a drow House, and been kept there for three years before escaping.

He stated that this was something that happened "a long time ago", when he was "a foolhardy young druid", which would mean it would likely have been between ages 100 and 245 — or at minimum 105 years ago, and at (likely) maximum 250 years ago. He closed the discussion with a line that really struck me, and that gave me such an appreciation for his character, and for the writers who had created it:

The passage of time has a strange way of polishing even the most arduous of memories into precious keepsakes.

As someone in their late-20s, with a number of traumatic events in my past, this resonated so much both with my experience of those events – once harrowing and haunting, now just simple happenings that do not affect me the way they once did – and as an inspirational message, that hurt would not necessarily linger forever.

Not only that, I really valued the insight it gave into Halsin's personality, further showing him to be someone who was deeply complex and meditative, always looking for meaning and something to take away or learn from any experience. It also served to showcase the likely reality of the relationship elves and druids both would have to the concepts of time and memory. (Another example of this is the experience of Shadowheart's father compared to her mother at the hands of the Sharrans.)

I started playing the game almost immediately upon its release in August, and was intrigued by Halsin from the start. He was someone who was kind and heartfelt, but also very settled in himself and with a simultaneously rigid and very flexible moral code. It was that complexity that drew me to him, and I appreciated the inclusion of a character distinct from the Origin companions, all at close to the lowest point of their lives.

It was to my surprise to find that this appreciation for his character and perspective on his Act 3 revelation was not unanimous. As it turned out, there was a vocal group of people claiming that this writing was problematic, and that Halsin clearly didn't even realize he was actually traumatized, and that Larian needed to fix it. Not everyone joining in with this crusade had even played the game.

And, ultimately, in a pattern they have continued to follow, Larian responded. They fixed it. At the end of November, as part of Patch 5, they uploaded an edited version of the scene with new dialogue, where the player could express this "reality" to Halsin, in one of the most gallingly patronizing statements I've ever seen.

Sounds traumatic. You may need to reflect on that.

(If someone said this to me after I had opened up to them about my trauma and my experience of it to them, we would not be maintaining a cordial relationship afterward.)

Halsin's new response to these dialogue options is a cringing, self-deprecating cascade of how the player is of course right, and he should have known better, and time could "prove to be a trickster on one's recollections" and that perhaps he had "lost perspective".

Quite frankly, it is a completely different character answering, and an almost directly opposing overall message about the role of time in healing, and the path forward when it comes to trauma. No more "one day these events will not hurt to recall the way they do now". In its stead: "only healing that looks a specific way and follows a specific path is acceptable - anything else and you are simply a poor fool lying to yourself."

The following quote is from a comment left on a video of Halsin's original dialogue in that scene, before the changes, and is just one example of how much that representation meant to more than just me to see:

That said, Halsin is trauma recovery goals for me absolutely. Being able to remember without actually being triggered? Being able to fully and freely engage HOW ID LIKE TO instead of being fettered by trauma responses? Goals. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there 100%, we don’t get elven lifetimes irl, but his level of healing brings me hope.

Ultimately, this post is not meant to argue that you should agree with me that one is better than the other. More so, I want to highlight that this existed — for many people, this was their experience of events and characters, and that is not so easily redacted. And I also want to just state, for the record, that Larian's way of approaching narrative and characterization changes to their full-release game has been incredibly frustrating. I did not agree, in August, to play an Early Access game with the inherent understanding that any potential narrative aspect might change at any time. I purchased a full-release game, and immersed myself in the story and the characters, to get to know them as the writers had originally presented.

And when Larian makes these changes based on fan feedback, they are explicitly making decisions about which fans matter, and specifically, which fans matter most. Rather than allowing everyone to experience the story they decided to tell, and draw from it what they take away, and let that spark discussion and engagement, they made the decision to defer to some fans over others, and prioritize their experience of the narrative — something that, no matter how well-intended, is always going to leave a bitter taste in my mouth.

[mayasaura]

one problem with a theatrical adaption of tlt is htn, where the reveal that Gideon lives on works because of the change of second person to first.

the only way i can think of it working is that the actor playing gideon works backstage, like the lights system (but is hidden from the audience aside from subtle hints)

the biggest hint is when when wake breaches pal's river bubble she 'breaks' the lighting system and the stage goes dark. harrow is ushered into the wings by pal so she doesn't see anything, but the lights flick back on just before the curtains drop for a scene change, and pal looks directly up at the light box in surprise and smiles. if the audience is quick to turn around they can see a flash of a black robe.

Oh boy my friend, have you come to the right place!!

So, fun fact about ninja. Bear with me, I am going somewhere with this. The image of a ninja covered head to toe in black, with a hood and mask, comes from Kabuki theatre. It was originally a stagehand uniform. Like stagehands in modern theatre, stagehands in Kabuki would wear all black to signify that they were not really there, and whatever effect they were causing (carrying a prop, creating a breeze, ect.) was to be taken as happening on its own. Basic stagehand stuff, a lot of productions in many styles around the world do it, especially if they don't have fancy rigging systems.

Someone (I don't remember who now, or in what play) had the idea to dress the ninja in a production up as a stagehand. In the convention of the theatre, this made them invisible. The audience was already so used to ignoring stagehands, they didn't know any more than the characters that the ninja was present, despite the actor being clearly visible on stage. Which meant when the ninja struck, it was as if out of nowhere. I can only imagine the uproar in the theatre the first time it happened. It worked so well as to become commonplace, and the rest is history. The popular image of a ninja is still a kabuki stagehand.

So, back to the stage play of Harrow the Ninth. I think you've hit almost exactly on how to incorporate the Gideon twist into a theatrical production. But not as a lighting tech. Gideon is a stage hand. Maybe there would be more than one stagehand, maybe she would be the only one, but she would operate in full view of the audience, literally setting the scenes. I think it works best if she's the only one, but if the production needs more, she should subtly stand out in some way. As the play went on, we would notice that this one stage hand... increasingly interacts with Harrow, though Harrow never acknowledges it. At first it might look like she's playing Harrow's necromancy, because that would be the main special effect she would need to help with. When Harrow is unconscious at the end of a scene, it's always the same stagehand carrying her out. But we all know she's not really there. Until Palamedes acknowledges her. Turns to look right at her, and speaks to her. I can see the scene clearly. He would look at her, stunned, until Gideon finally took off her mask. The line "Kill us twice, shame on God," would be addressed to Gideon, and then he would turn back to Harrow, kiss her on the forehead, and tell her to go. Gideon, always out of Harrow's line of sight, would guide Harrow away while Harrow looked back at Palamedes.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Somebody That I Used To Know

Summary-> The Salvatores call Y/N Mikaelson for aid, however they don’t expect for her to have a history with Kai Parker (4k)

Warnings-> 18+ minors dni, smut, unprotected sex, shower sex, porn with plot, mentions of death, blood drinking, swearing, fluff & angst, mentions of bad parenting and adultery, mentions of child abuse and imprisonment

kai parker works other tvd works main masterlist

Kai had never been a romantic, that much was blatantly obvious, or so he told himself. To even think about being in love opened a wound inside of him, and it refused to heal. He had been raised in hell before his family sent him to an isolation that was impossible for him to escape, however they had never expected or anticipated intruders to enter his coven crafted prison world, but the improbable became possible when the other side fell. And now he was free, to an extent, with supervision of course.

Stefan rushed into the room with urgency in his steps, bearing news as he reached his brother - and Kai. They tolerated him, after all the evil-doings he had spewed in the form of massacres, realising that now he was a heretic he had some use other than drinking magic like a drug addict fiending for a hit. Things were always tense when his magic was required, but the group of supernatural heroes (and Matt unfortunately) understood that to protect the town indefinitely, his troublesome hand definitely helped. Though he wasn’t one of them, his singular use other than being a pest was to be a weapon. It was ironic really considering they had stopped, or at least tried, him from killing his family, and now he was doing their bidding murdering at their beck and call.

“Y/n’s on her way, she would have been here sooner but there was some trouble in New Orleans that she had to resolve.” The name of the woman that Stefan was referring to struck a fragile, hard to find nerve in Kai’s erratic brain, he had known a woman by the same name a long time ago… She had been unstoppable, as any original vampire would be. Y/n Mikaelson, a dead beauty whom was one of a kind, she had seen an endless variety of monsters in her achingly long life, and unlike everyone else that Kai had known, she didn’t see him as one.

He was just a man, and she was- walking in the Salvatore home apparently? It couldn’t be, be surely had to be hallucinating. The last time that he had seen her, she had bid him goodbye, promising to see him the following day, when in reality he didn’t. Klaus had staked her with a pale dagger, catching her beautiful and dormant corpse in an old fashioned casket, taking her comatosed body half way across the globe. He saw the scene of her struggle, but not her. Kai was speechless, he never thought he’d see her again, when they had met he had just been a siphon, and now he was more like her than he’d ever imagined.

Their eyes locked and time stood still for a moment, before she gave him a cold shoulder, turning her attention to the Salvatores, Stefan less than amused with her appearance. Kai hardly noticed but she was drenched from head to toe in blood, her skin flooded by the remnants of her victims. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m here, aren’t I?” Damon quirked a brow at the original which caused the old one to huff out an exaggerated sigh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I had to do to get here to save your asses, so I’m not even going to bother. So what’s first on the agenda?”

“You can take a shower, you know where it is.” Damon nodded his head at her, and Kai was inclined to squint at the interaction but decided it best not to pry in case he discovered something he’d rather not have. Y/n turned on her heel and contently plodded up the stairs within the mansion, leaving red footsteps in her wake, luring Kai to follow her trail. He stood, beginning on his journey to know the reason for her ignorance of him, he wanted to understand the pain that he felt that was unlike any other that he had experienced.

Surely she couldn’t have forgotten him, it had been a long time for him, but in relation to those she had lived, it would have been as though they had met yesterday. The younger of the two Salvatore brothers stepped forward, wanting to severe Kai’s secret mission into a failure of efforts, however Damon held his arm out, silently ordering Stefan to remain where he was. “Let him be a peeping tom, worst that will happen is she’ll rip his loveless heart out.” To then Kai was an expendable weapon, there was only so much use that they had for him. They didn’t need to kill him, he’d be the cause for his own end, and there would be no one to mourn him, even if his family were alive.

“Hey. Y/n, stop! Please!” He was desperate for her attention, he’d gone so long without it that it was all he craved. In private, he had struggled and tried his darn hardest to cast an abundance of spells to awake her, even without the genetic gift of magic. There was no stone that he had left unturned, but all that needed to be done was to remove the dagger from her chest, but she was lost and hidden far away so that nobody could find her… not even him. Not even Jo, his own twin from birth had protected him from the parental neglect and isolation he had induced before his indefinite banishment, but Y/n had yearned to make him feel wanted and needed. When he had spent moments in private with her, away from the endless triggers, he felt like a normal person, almost human.

If not for Klaus and his incessant and overwhelming desire to collect his siblings and put them in their reserved coffins, Kai doubted that his disturbed parents would have succeeded with transferring his mind and lack of soul into the 1994 prison world. She would have murdered his coven pleasing, traditional parents in cold blood. He would have been free, and more importantly, with her. Joshua Parker and his broodmare of a wife had awaited for Y/n’s demise, acknowledging that whilst they were all powerful Geminis, an original vampire was not an obstacle that they wanted to risk fighting against. It was easier for them to wait until she was entirely out of the picture and consciousness to strike against their first born son.

Y/n looked at him, there was something in her eyes that had changed, and it wasn’t peculiar squint that she aimed at him. She was analysing his face, tilting her portrait worthy head at his appearance, repeating the sound of his voice in her brain. Her throat felt dry despite all the blood that she had drank as she began to speak, wary that she could have been imagining his presence as a trauma response, her long past encompassing her supernatural senses and making them into a realistic delusion. “You look like someone that I once knew, but you can’t be him, he would have aged by now, witches only have a mortal lifespan. Most of them anyways.” Her words spoke truth, however they had been long separated and their journeys had continued apart.

Kai dared to step towards her, reaching his silver adorned hands to her face, painting his own fingertips in the numerous layers of blood that was spread across her cheek. “The world hasn’t been kind to either of us, I’m a heretic now, and I did a lot of horrible things just so that I could survive and one day see you again. It’s really me, it’s, I’m… Malachai.” Y/n has always referred to him by his full name, and after he’d lost her for what felt like an eternity, he had vastly preferred it to be shortened to Kai. Each time he heard anybody formally naming him by Malachai, it caused him a terrible internal fever of pain, for she instantly was replayed in the only fond memories that he held close to his heart.

There was a glassy sheen reflecting from her compelling eyes, even if this was a sick and twisted trick that her body was playing on her vision, she wasn’t willing to waste another fleeting minute without pulling him into her embrace, hoping and praying to her ancestors above that Kai wouldn’t fade away. “I can’t believe it’s you.” Y/n whispered, still coming to grips with the shock that raced in her veins. She had heard commotion from the Salvatores and their younger allies in regards to the heretics that had brought dangerous issues into the borders of Mystic Falls. Never had the original expected for her Malachai to be one of the siphoner crossbreeds, they were stupidly subjective to be unexpectedly powerful after having lived lives of stealing magic and bearing the labels of being abominations to their cold hearted covens.

It was clear that they had both changed during their decades without one another. But it didn’t matter, Kai and Y/n were now individually stronger, thus meant together it would be close to impossible for any species to separate them again. “There’s something that you should know,” Y/n slightly pulled away from their coiled up proximity so that she could look into Kai’s grey irises, finding a rare comfort in their storm of pigment. “I’m a hybrid now, Klaus and I were never Mikael’s children, our father was a werewolf called Ansel, he and our mother had an affair. When Klaus took that stake out of my heart, he was planning on unlocking that hidden side of himself, and I joined him, thinking that a distraction was what I needed and that I’d never have the chance to see you again.”

Nothing changed in the way that Kai looked at Y/n, his orbs continued to be clouded with effortless and true adoration, he could care less what she was, all he wanted was her by his side until their fates rested in possible death, in an afterlife that they could fondly share. “You could never not be perfect to me, even in this moment. All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes.” Kai could remember the first time he had seen her features accentuated with a visible rush of human’s blood, she had come to him in the night, after defending herself from a group of witches that had tried to use her mulled blood to bring all of her siblings to one destination. Their scheme had been to kill all vampires in the planet, and what better way to do that than to cull the untwined sources of the various and spread bloodlines. They hadn’t even come near to reigning their intended terror of mass extinction, Y/n had mauled them with quick yet painful deaths that would haunt them on the other side.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t remain looking like this Malachai, I need to shower.” Y/n miserably insisted, her pupils never wishing to leave his form again, for she was afraid that the heretic would disappear altogether. For years since Klaus had removed the dagger out from where it had been impaled in her chest, she had wanted to search for Kai, however the right opportunity had never arose. There was always a family related instance that threw any solace of doing so out the window. She was far too selfless for her own good, she continuously allowed her fleet of brothers and sisters to pull her into their conflicts, and she couldn’t find it in herself to leave them to the horrors of their mother Esther had given them lives long enough to experience. Immortality really was a cruel curse, every day Y/n would look in the mirror and see no alteration to her timeless face, there would only be more regret and trauma hidden behind her y/e/c windows to her fading soul.

“Then allow me to join you, I can’t bear to see you walk away again, I need you to come back.” Their last goodbye hadn’t prepared him for the years that had passed him by without her presence. It was a miracle that Y/n was in the same vicinity as him, she’d told him that she would see him the following day, but her promise had been broken through no fault of her own. “Well,” his past lover began to speak, Kai’s eyes solely trained on her lips that he obsessively dreamt of every night, “I’m sure that I could use your help t wash all of this blood off me.” And so Kai safely followed her until the attached bathroom of one of the many guest rooms, excited to feel her close once again. She stripped her ruined articles of clothing from her perfect, unscarred flesh, crimson painting each curve and ridge that her apparel hadn’t covered. Her movements span Kai’s mind into a flurry of hypnosis, he was entranced with her flawless anatomy.

She stepped into the shower first, allowing Kai to mentally prepare for sharing an intimate proximity with her after so long. He had always hated anyone touching him, since his parents had constantly instructed all to never lay a finger against his skin; because he was dangerous. One touch and he could kill his siblings that had been brought into the world to replace the disappointment that he was. But Y/n, he couldn’t hurt her, and she made him feel important and loved like his coven should have. They shared a history where they had both been neglected; Mikael knew that Klaus and Y/n weren’t biologically his children and so he had intended to kill them as a message to his witch of a wife, also due to simply wanting to. And even being sent to the prison world dedicated to holding and punishing Kai, his father had neglected and beaten him for being born as the black sheep. Neither of them had deserved the malicious injustice that their parents had handed out to them, but now they had time to heal together, and fix the broken shards of their intermingled roads of earning a sliver of peace.

It took him a fair few minutes to succumb back to the reality that was cast before his very eyes, like an allusive spell that disturbed his vision to picture his greatest desires. Y/n was as alive as a vampire could practically be, scrubbing her crimes from her body with her naked hands. Her knuckles were white and clenched as she feared that Kai wouldn’t join her because there was always the possibility that he wasn’t real; he was another mortal that she had outlived and his passing souls was spouting nonsense of heretics and prison worlds to madden her into believing all wasn’t lost, as it usually was. But as Kai built up the courage to shed his clothes and leave them in an abandoned cluster on the floor and join her behind the water splattered glass, and his hands nervously danced in a grip on her waist, Y/n realised that she was mistaken. He was real, and so were the tears that fell from his eyes and landed upon her shoulders that had relaxed from the warm stream that was elicited from the shower head.

Y/n span around in his arms, their bodies pressing together as she did so. Returning to Mystic Falls had been the correct move on her part, now there lay a chance to finish Kai’s and her story, rather than leaving it to remain a forgotten tragedy of their pasts. “I’m so happy that you’re here.” She hadn’t felt that raw emotion in a time too long, her voice had left her lips in a relieved sob. His shaky hands found refuge in cradling her face, pulling her closer so that their noses touched. “If I had to do everything all over again so that I’d end up here, I would.” Kai remembered the awful actions he had done, they flashed in his memory as guilt biled in his chest, he’d been raised as an evil child, and after he had realised that Y/n had disappeared, his actions proved such. At first Kai had assumed that his love had thought of him as a monster like everyone else did, however he dug through her small apartment only to discover carnage. She hadn’t willingly left him, and that made him angrier.

And he had snapped, he was always taunted for being powerless by his family, he was a pest that they had brought into the world, and so as revenge he took them out of it. But he held no regret other than being a Gemini without magic for so long, because his and Y/n’s paths had crossed as though it were fate. “I’d do it all again too, or maybe I’d have staked Klaus first. It doesn’t matter though, I’ve got you back and now we have more time, eternity is on our side.” Her lips found his, their mouths melting together in a passionate and desperate kiss that they refused to break. Their lack of breathing continued as Kai pressed her into the wall, moving them out of shot from the falling water, his knuckles hungrily grabbing the back of her thighs. He muttered an almost silent ‘jump’ into her mouth, and Y/n instantly followed his words, wanting nothing more than to be held in his arms.

It was as though two long lost worlds were colliding in an orbital explosion, Y/n’s arms were amorously locked around the apex of Kai’s neck, her lips drifting from his and teasing his neck with the outline of her teeth. They grew into fangs as Y/n found a pulse point, sinking her pointed canines into Kai’s veins, swallowing the blood that flowed into her mouth. He was thirsty to be within the hybrid whom he had missed for so long, his cock impatiently stirred against the flesh of her inner thigh, adamantly needing to be inside her. Y/n released Kai’s throat from her deadly, vampiric grip, with her lips stained red, and she lovingly admired him with heavy lids. “Fuck me Malachai, it’s been too long.” He agreed without word or hesitation, steadying her weight in his arms as he pushed his aching cock into his lover’s walls. They both exchanged relieved moans, discovering newfound ecstasy together with their heightened emotions and feelings. Her cunt hugged his length tightly, it’s vice grip bonding them together as their lips found each other again. Their tongues fought for dominance as they remained still for a moment, Kai’s feet that were planted on the floor supporting them.

“You’re so tight baby.” He huffed through his teeth, gasping down air that he didn’t know that he needed. Y/n’s back was pressed into the tiled wall of the large shower, her elegant head was timelessly craned backwards as she adjusted to the girth of Kai’s length. In her life after being separated from him, Y/n had continued her sex life with other partners, but none of them every fulfilled or satisfied her the way Kai had. The emotions that she had for the siphon were unique, it was the kind of love that she had been searching for within her over a thousand years of existence. He was thrilling and exciting for her, and she felt that same rush as Kai decided that it was time for him to move. He jarred his hips so that he almost pulled out of her walls that hugged his length to the point where all the blood in his body distanced itself from his head, only to push back into her warmth that provided him comfort like no other. Y/n enveloped his prime concentration, and the dark hauntings in his thoughts sunk to a distant place, allowing the heretic to enjoy something that wasn’t outright murder for a change.

“Oh my- holy fuck Malachai.” Y/n moaned as Kai fastened his pace and hit a particular spot in her depth that she had forgotten existed. Her fingers clawed at his shoulders, leaving crescent indents in their wake whilst her legs tightened around his waist. She used her position as leverage to buck against him, neither of them were going to last long, that much was evident. To finally be together in such a comprisable scenario after twenty years was taking a toll on their bodies’ performances, neither Kai nor Y/n were far from reaching their peaks. Kai’s thrusts began to become scattered in their coordination, Y/n’s heat clamped down on him as he reached his fingers down and stimulated her bundle of nerves, spiralling her orgasmic bliss over the edge, and Kai’s orgasm followed shortly after. He filled her centre to the brim with his load of cum as he panted heavily, resting his forehead against Y/n’s as he carefully set her down so that she was standing by herself.

No one but Kai had ever treated Y/n as though she was fragile, including her own siblings. To most she was just the monster of her mother’s creation, a creature that craved destruction, Damon and Stefan had even been adamant to call her in as a reinforcement. The Gemini coven had been petrified of her presence, and so they had contacted Klaus and informed him of Y/n’s location before they banished the siphon of their family to a modified realm that held no trace of life, except for his own. Kai was the only being that took the time to see past the lives that she had agonised and taken, discovering that she was the true victim of her own actions. She was stuck with multiple curses increasing her affective thirst for blood, and there was no cure designed to fix her into a human. And even if there was somewhere out there, Y/n would be the first to admit that she didn’t deserve it. But Kai wanted her to live with little to no regrets, nothing that she had done mattered to him, he just hoped that she never regretted him.

“I love you Y/n Mikaelson, I should have said it a long time ago.” He cradled her face as the water around them turned cold, her hands choosing to lay atop of his. “And I will never let anything happen to you again, I don’t care who I have to kill to make sure of it.” Kai felt like he was finally capable of protecting her, he had his own magic now and so much more. Those in Mystic Falls had decided to allow him to live, and he had found his retribution; it was to be better for Y/n. They had a second chance and he wasn’t going to let it get away from him. “I love you too Malachai, I just never had a moment to tell you. By the time I realised what you meant to me, my brother was already in Portland.” She reached her fingertips up to brush against the scruff on his face that she was unfamiliar with, but it was definitely something that she could get used to. She wasn’t going to live another day without him by her side, they’d already lost too much time together.

“I know we’re not exactly fans of Kai, but he’s definitely got game if he can get Y/n out of all the Mikaelsons, and hold her down.” Damon nodded, as Stefan rolled his eyes at his brother. It was a good thing that they’d decided against ending Kai’s life, Stefan thought, otherwise Y/n wouldn’t be their ally if she uncovered the truth - she’d be their enemy. And that was the last thing that they would have wanted, because no one, mortal or not, ever survived her wrath. She had a soul, a tainted one at that, but she never took that into consideration if someone angered her. They were long dead before she reached them.

[pokemon1oadvanced]

Thoughts on the live action one piece

Spoilers 😉

Yes, I binged all 8 episodes, and have work today and can’t see out my eyes but worth it.

I’ll try to keep it short.

Luffys character was immaculate. The way Inaki portrayed him and brought this man to life was so amazing to see. Oda really saw Luffy in him and he did not disappoint. The moves looked great, CGI was on point for a live action, and they really did break the curse.

Zoro’s character was beautiful. I love that he was more serious, and him throwing up the finger in his first scene?! I’m star struck. You can say what you want about the live action, but theres no denying this cast was perfect for these characters and the fight scenes were choreographed to the point where it looked so clean.

Nami 🥳 The emotion! The conflict! I absolutely love the way she had more action scenes and was more open with her care for the crew early on. Nami has always been my favourite character, and Emily did her justice.

I will be listening to her song on repeat.

Ussop! Ussop! Are you serious! Why do I love you in every reality! And Ussop and Kaya! The kiss! The scream I let out! I died😵‍💫 I wish he had more shooting scenes, but his true potential wasn’t seen until later in the anime so I can’t complain, cause season two Ussop is gonna pop off.

Sanji😳 First off, live action Sanji has a hold on me😮‍💨 Like what happened to the guy who couldn’t get any girls. Ngl, was keeping an eye out for the blonde at table 8, looking out for my competition👀 His kicks were so smooth and all, and I mean ALL, his fight scenes were perfect. Like how did they do this. You can see the care and effort he put into his character.

Buggy? I love our unhinged clown. His making a circus with trapped towns people. His CGI? Amazing. The little goof we were left with when they trapped his parts in the chest made me cackle!

The pacing of the show was done so well. I was worried that 8 episodes wouldn’t be enough (and I was right where’s season two I want Vivi), but the retelling was more then I hoped for. I will always love the anime more, as most of us know there’s not enough episodes in the series, but the live action did great in that respect. I did miss some of the characters they had to cut to make it flow better though. The ussop pirates live on in our hearts

Don’t get me wrong, there was some scenes I missed from the original show, like Zoro lifting Luffy’s cage, Nami burning her hands on Buggys cannon fuse, Nami stabbing Ussop. BUT, they wouldn’t have fit in this version of the show.

They did give us Zoro lifting the safe like he did Luffys cage which was cool. And Nami holding Ussops hand when Zoro was fighting, Nami showing up for the fight rather then leaving. I love her. Even though Nami didn’t get to show her care through the actions of saving Zoro or stabbing her own hand, she was still able to show those emtions through different actions. The hand holding with Ussop rather then the stabbing of her hand was so good to see. This version of Nami seemed more fragile in a way, so this suited her version well.

It was like watching One Piece for the first time all over again. I didn’t know what would happen. Getting more marines, and Garps relationship to Luffy being revealed so early in the series to cause tension within the crew *chef’s kiss* And Koby? ‘Be a good pirate.’? Like I love you? Not doing what Garp asked? Standing up for his beliefs? You are going to be a good Marine. You’ll be the greatest 💕

The relationships they explored?

First off Ussop and Kaya 😵 I love them so much. Them talking to the straw hats about their relationship was so cute, and Zoro saying it wasn’t his area of expertise 💅🏻✨ Jokes 👀

Nami being besties with Kaya😍 Her telling Kaya not to let someone tell her how to run her life, drawing connections to her own situation, telling Kaya not to be trapped. Her returning the treasure! I loved it so much. Ussop’s and Nami’s friendship has always been the one I cherished in the crew, and for Nami to support Kaya, and Ussop to see how Nami was good to his girl I feel will only strengthen their relationship.

Nami and Zoro besties? Didn’t know I could love them more.

Nami caring so much for Zoro after his fight with Mihawk showed her love for her new friends, and mirrored her care she had in the original series where she saved him from drowning at Arlong park. Even though we didn’t get the original scenes, they were supplemented with new scenes that held the same feelings.

Zosan- I mean Zoro and Sanji. The wings of the pirate king? I love their bickering in any universe it seems. The fish men fight was so good, them being unbothered with the guys trying to kill them as they fought with each other was so them. And Zoro licking his plate clean and saying Sanji’s food was okay? Not bad for a waiter huh?

And the most important pair. Captain and his first mate. I just loved how many times they reiterated that Zoro is Luffys right hand man 🥰 Luffy not stepping in the way of Zoros dream was beautiful, and his care afterwards reminded me of how he cared for Nami when she got sick in the original series. Asking Sanji to cook his favourite? So cute. He couldn’t decide if it was best for Zoro to eat or sleep or drink and him stressing for Zoro. All amazing. I’ve used amazing so many times but its just the word I need to explain it. Zoro waking up, Luffy engulfing him. I could go on and on.

Nami and Luffy? The amount of love I have for them. They were everything I wanted from them. The scene. THE scene. Beautiful.

I could go on and on about this show, but sadly I have work. Please show this version love, and don’t go into expecting the same series. It is different. It’s its own version and deserves its own category.

I love the cast! Thank you for making history with this adaptation! Xx

[lovetaroandtaemin]

Cosmic Connection

Boo Seungkwan x Reader

Word Count: 4,725

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst, non idol AU, alien AU

Rating: Explicit, MINORS DNI!

Summary: While you're initially very uncomfortable around your new coworker, your feelings quickly shift after running into him at a mutual friend's party. The only problem is that you don't know if he wants the same things that you do.

Content Warnings: Seungkwan is an alien! This is your monsterfucking warning!! Unwanted flirting at a party (not from Seungkwan), some alcohol use, soft dom!Seungkwan, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, oral (f recieving), he spits in her mouth, multiple sex scenes, they're fucking idiots your honor, miscommunications, awkward moments. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!

A/N: This fic was a (slightly late) birthday gift for the absolutely amazing Booki, aka @kwanisms! You're genuinely one of my favorite writers on this hellsite, and I'm really happy that we're friends!!! I hope that your birthday was as awesome as you are! Sorry about the fic being a few days late.

I also want to quickly acknowledge the lovely @gyubakeries and @hyperbolicheart for their help in the brainstorming process and listening to me yap during the writing process! I love y'all <3

Taglist: @xomakara, @notyourjaem, @heechwe, @shadowkoo

Fic is under the cut.

You knew that something weird was going to happen the moment your boss introduced you to the newest member of your department, Seungkwan. For the most part, he was a normal guy, if a bit shy, so at first, you had nothing to back up the feeling of unease in your gut that started the moment you laid eyes on him.

And then you actually talked to him.

“Hi, welcome to the team! I’m (Y/N),” you said, reaching your hand out for him to shake.

“Why is your hand out?” he asked, looking at you like you’d done something offensive.

“I’m offering a handshake,” you answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world, because in your mind, it was.

He responded by saying, “Oh, ok,” but he made no move to shake your hand. He just stared at you, and that was when you noticed that his eyes seemed to have star shaped pupils. The sight struck you as odd, but you tried to write it off, assuming he was just wearing weird contacts.

There was an awkward silence after that, so you brought your arm back to your side and said, “Well, I hope you have a good day.”

“Thanks. You too,” he responded, but every word sounded far too rehearsed. You were still a little bit suspicious of him, but in the end, you figured he was just nervous about starting a new job. So, you went about the rest of your day, ignoring your new coworker.

Seungkwan was attracted to you from the moment that he laid eyes on you. He didn’t quite know what it was about you, but he really wanted to get to know you better. Of course, based on how uncomfortable you looked after he introduced himself, he was pretty sure that he’d fucked that up irreparably. So, he decided to just give you some space.

Working with Seungkwan was far more awkward than you’d originally expected. Sure, you knew that the two of you probably wouldn’t be best friends, but every time you tried to talk to him, he acted weird in some way. If it wasn’t something that he said, it was something that he did.

For the most part, you could ignore the jokes that you honestly weren’t entirely sure were jokes. But the way he acted around you was odd, to say the least. Every time you looked at him, he turned away from you like he hoped that he’d disappear if you kept looking. Sometimes, you tried to approach him, and he ran the other way. Not walked. Ran. Like he was trying to get away from a serial killer. You had no idea what the fuck to do in those situations.

So, in the end, you decided to just not talk to him.

Unlike your expectations, you started to warm up to Seungkwan after you ran into him at your friend Soonyoung’s birthday party. Shortly after you arrived, Seokmin, another friend, approached you and asked, “Have you seen Seungkwan?”

“No, I haven’t. Why?”

“He showed up, got into an argument, then disappeared. We figured you might know where he went.”

“Why would I know where he is? We don’t even interact outside of work.”

“But he said- oh, nevermind. I’ll keep looking for him. Thanks.”

“What did he say?” you asked, but before you knew it, Seokmin was gone.

After the slightly strange interaction with Seokmin, you struggled to enjoy the party. You didn’t want to leave though, since you’d been looking forward to celebrating Soonyoung’s birthday with him for weeks. So, you choked back your discomfort and tried to focus on having a good time.

While you talked to your friends and enjoyed the many snacks that Soonyoung and your other friends had prepared for the party, you found yourself looking for Seungkwan. You had no clue why, though, since you really didn’t want to see him. In the end, you figured it was probably because Seokmin had asked about him. Still, you didn’t wanna worry about your coworker anymore that night.

At some point during the party, you were dancing with a few of your friends when you heard an unfamiliar voice calling your name.

You turned around to see a man you didn’t recognize in front of you, and you said, “Hi. Sorry, but you don’t look familiar.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Mingyu. We work in the same office.”

“Oh, right! Sorry I didn’t recognize you. How are you doing?”

“Better now that I’m talking to you.”

You cringed at the cheesy attempt at flirting, but you still tried to make small talk. Every one of your attempts was met with a similar response, though, and after a while, you started to get uncomfortable. Not wanting the conversation to go on anymore, you said, “Well, it was nice to see you, but I have to go now.”

“Where are you going?

“None of your business,” a third voice said. You turned to see who it was, and you saw Seungkwan glaring at Mingyu. He was so angry; you could have sworn that his eyes had turned red.

“Who are you?” Mingyu asked.

“Her boyfriend,” Seungkwan answered, grabbing your hand. You weren’t exactly thrilled that Seungkwan was lying about being your boyfriend, but you knew that it would get Mingyu to leave you alone. So, you didn’t say anything.

Mingyu immediately walked away, and you let go of Seungkwan’s hand before you turned to him and said, “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Both of you were silent for a minute before you asked, “Do you wanna dance?”

“Sure. That sounds nice.”

With that, you and Seungkwan started to dance together, and you felt just a little bit less uncomfortable around him. It took a bit longer than you would have liked to find a groove, so to speak, but once you did, you found yourself actually having fun with your awkward new coworker.

After Soonyoung’s party, you felt a lot more comfortable around Seungkwan. Sure, you still felt anxious around him, but it was a different feeling than before. Instead of the dread that used to fill the pit of your stomach when you saw him, you felt a kind of giddy nervousness instead. It was almost like you were attracted to him, but there was no way in hell that was possible.

At least, that was what you thought at the time.

A few weeks after the party, Seungkwan approached you at work with shaky hands and a soft smile on his face and asked, “Hey, do you wanna get dinner with me and a few other people after work?”

“That sounds great. Who else is going?”

“Seokmin, Soonyoung, and their girlfriends.”

“Are you asking me on a group date, ‘Kwan?”

“I mean, maybe,” he mumbled, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

You softened when you realized how nervous he was and said, “That sounds great. Where are we meeting?” Seungkwan gave you the name of a local restaurant, and you said, “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither.”

The rest of your day went by shockingly slowly, since you were so anxious to go out with Seungkwan. When the time finally came, you could hardly contain your excitement. So, as soon as your shift ended, you clocked out and drove to the restaurant that he’d mentioned earlier.

When you arrived at the restaurant, Seungkwan was standing outside waiting for you. When he finally noticed you, he smiled and said, “Hi! I’m really happy you could make it.”

“I really appreciate you inviting me. I don’t know if I’ve ever been here before.”

“I haven’t. Seokmin recommended this place. He said it had the right vibes. Not quite sure what he meant, but it’s a really nice place.” There was a brief moment of silence before he added, “Are you ready to go in?” You nodded, and he took your hand before leading you into the restaurant.

Once you were inside and seated, Seokmin looked at you and Seungkwan and gave you a knowing smile. You wanted to ask him why he was so happy, but you didn’t have time before Soonyoung glared at Seungkwan and said, “Come on, man. We talked about this.”

“Talked about what?” Seungkwan asked, though you knew from the tone in his voice that he knew exactly what Soonyoung was referring to.

You didn’t, however, so you asked, “What’s going on?”

“He knows,” Soonyoung answered flatly.

You turned to Seungkwan with a puzzled look on your face, and he said, “Sorry.” His apology left you even more confused, but you decided not to worry about it too much. You could just ask Seungkwan about it after you left the restaurant.

The rest of the dinner was pretty boring, if you were being honest with yourself. Still, you appreciated the time with Seungkwan and your friends. The conversations were funny, the food was delicious, and the restaurant’s atmosphere was warm and welcoming.

Over the course of the dinner, though, you noticed Seungkwan getting increasingly touchy with you. It started with him holding your hand whenever he wasn’t actively eating, but after a while, it escalated to his hand on your thigh, rubbing soft circles on your skin. You hated to admit it, but the gesture turned you on quite a bit.

By the time your meal was finished, and it was time for you to go, you were desperate. When Soonyoung and Seokmin weren’t paying attention, you whispered in Seungkwan’s ear, “Do you wanna go back to my place?”

“That sounds great.”

And with that, everyone was ready to go.

After you left the restaurant, you drove Seungkwan back to your apartment. The entire time you drove, his hand was on your thigh, slowly creeping closer to where you wanted him most as you got closer to your destination. When you finally pulled up at your apartment, he said, “You alright?”

“Yeah. Can we just go inside, please?” you asked, hoping that your embarrassing desperation wasn’t obvious.

Once you were inside, he pulled you close and kissed you, holding you like you’d disappear if he let go of you. When you pulled away from the kiss and looked up into his eyes again, you were surprised that the color seemed to have shifted. Whereas they were typically pale green, the irises now looked to be soft pink. The star shaped pupils remained, though, a feature of his that you’d grown to love. With a hushed voice, you asked, “What’s going on with your eyes?”

Seungkwan sighed like he was struggling to decide whether he should tell you before he said, “They change color based on how I’m feeling.”

“Where the fuck did you get contacts like that?” you asked, shocked by his answer.

There was a moment of incredibly awkward silence before Seungkwan answered, “They’re not contacts. They’re just my eyes.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that my eyes are just like that. My species-”

“Species?”

“Yes. Species,” he said. He paused for a moment before he added, “I’m not human.”

“Then what are you?”

“Well, the specifics are far too detailed to get into right now, but let’s just say I’m not from this planet.”

Holy shit. You were just making out with an alien.

In any other situation, you would have been terrified of the idea that you were speaking with someone from another planet. But because you were with Seungkwan, and far more turned on than you had any right to be in that moment because of how he’d treated you at the restaurant and on the way back to your apartment, you couldn’t help but feel excited by the idea.

You must have gotten lost in your thoughts, because the next thing you knew, Seungkwan let go of you and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“’Kwan, the only thing you need to apologize for is not fucking me already.”

A smirk appeared on Seungkwan’s face before he said, “Well how can I make it up to you, starlight?”

“Please just touch me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Please?”

His eyes shifted to a darker shade of pink as he said, “Gladly.”

Seungkwan started to kiss your neck, biting down occasionally. Every touch made your head spin, and you almost forgot the other question that you wanted to ask him. In between soft moans that slipped out every so often, you asked, “What does the pink mean?”

“What pink?” he asked, looking up at you.

“Your eyes. You said they change color depending on your mood. Right now, they’re bright fucking pink. What does that mean?”

“Pink indicates arousal,” he answered matter-of-factly before going back to marking your neck. You shuddered at his words, more turned on than you wanted to admit by both the intensity of his gaze and of the color of his eyes.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “Want more. Please.”

“What do you want, starlight?”

“Want you to fuck me.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded and said, “Please?”

“Are you completely sure?” he asked. You nodded, and he said, “If you change your mind, you need to tell me.”

“I will, promise.”

“Good girl.” There was a brief silence before he asked, “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Follow me,” you said, taking his hand and practically dragging him to your room.

Once you were there, he smiled at you and said, “Strip for me, starlight.”

You did as you were told, watching Seungkwan rid himself of his own clothing. As you watched him undress, you couldn’t help but notice that, aside from his eyes, he looked strikingly human. At least, he did until he took his pants off.

That’s when you realized that his cock was bright blue and bigger than any that you’d ever seen before. The idea of that going into you was a little unnerving, if you were being honest with yourself, but it was also thrilling. You wanted, no, needed him to fuck you as soon as possible.

You must have been staring, because Seungkwan let out a soft laugh and asked, “So, do you like what you see?” You nodded in response, too turned on to speak properly. “Words, starlight.”

“Yeah, I do,” you choked out. “’s big.”

“Do you think you can take it?” he asked with a soft smile on his face and a teasing tone in his voice. You nodded, and he said, “We just talked about this. Use your words, or everything stops here.”

“I can take it. Please just fuck me,” you begged.

Before you could even process what had happened, you were pinned to your bed, and Seungkwan was aligning his tip with your entrance. Before he actually slid into you, however, he looked into your eyes and said, “Open your mouth.”

You did as you were told, and you felt a small amount of saliva fall into your mouth. The seemingly small gesture ordinarily wouldn’t turn you on, but because you were with Seungkwan, the action only made you more desperate for him to fuck you, if that was even possible.

After you swallowed, Seungkwan asked, “Are you absolutely sure you wanna do this? I won’t be upset if you changed your mind.”

“Seungkwan, if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m gonna break your dick off and use it as a dildo.”

With no further questions, he slowly moved his hips forward, and you grabbed onto his shoulders as a loud moan left your lips. After a brief moment of stillness to allow you to adjust to his size, he started to slowly move in and out of you. Loud whines slipped out as he fucked you, and you couldn’t help but notice the pink in his eyes getting just a little bit more intense as time passed.

“How does it feel, baby?” he asked.

“So good. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

“Not planning on it,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re doing so good for me, starlight.”

You moaned louder at his words, holding onto Seungkwan for dear life while he gradually increased the speed of his thrusts. As he fucked you, the sweetest moans you’d ever heard slipped out of his mouth, and every moment made you want more of him, if that was even possible.

It took a surprisingly short amount of time for Seungkwan to feel his release start to approach. He wanted to try to last a little bit longer, but when he saw the look in your eyes as he pounded into you, he knew that there was no way that was going to happen.

“Fuck, ‘m close, starlight,” he groaned. “What do you want me to do?”

“Cum inside me, please,” you begged.

That was all it took for Seungkwan to still inside of you as he reached his high, kissing you in an attempt to muffle the sounds leaving his mouth as he came undone. Once he came down from his high, he pulled out and dropped in front of you, attaching his mouth to your core. The stimulation to your clit was exactly what you needed to fall apart, screaming Seungkwan’s name as your orgasm washed over you.

While you caught your breath, Seungkwan helped you clean up and put your clothes back on. When he was sure you were comfortable, he put his own clothes back on, getting back into bed with you. Once you were both clean and comfortable again, he held you close and asked you if you were ok. You didn’t respond verbally at first, which worried him, but after a few more deep breaths, you said, “’m ok.”

“Was what we just did too much, starlight?”

“Not too much. Just a lot.”

Seungkwan laughed softly and said, “You’re so cute.” You whined in response, and he asked, “Are you sure you’re ok?”

“I’m ok.” There was a brief silence before you added, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course. What is it?”

“What was Soonyoung so mad about earlier?”

“What do you mean?”

“When we were at dinner, he said the two of you talked about something. When I asked him what it was, he just said, ‘he knows.’ What did you do?”

Seungkwan laughed and answered, “He saw the color of my eyes. That was his not-so-subtle way of warning me to chill earlier.”

“What color were your eyes?”

“Pink.”

“Really?”

“What can I say? I liked the dress you were wearing.”

You blushed at his words and said, “Seungkwan?”

“Yes, starlight?”

“What do purple eyes mean?”

“Are they purple right now?” he asked. You nodded, and he answered, “It means that I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too.”

“Good.”

A comfortable silence fell over the room, and you relaxed while Seungkwan held you. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you were so cozy, you couldn’t help yourself. When he noticed that you were asleep, he let himself relax too, falling asleep shortly after.

The next morning, you were confused as to why there was another person in your bed. Then, you heard Seungkwan’s snoring, and the events of the night before came back to you. When you thought about what had happened the night before, you found yourself getting aroused all over again, though. An unfortunate problem, but you would deal with it after Seungkwan left.

At least, that’s what you thought until you heard Seungkwan moan your name in his sleep.

With a soft voice and softer touch, you shook Seungkwan awake and asked, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, everything is fine,” he answered sleepily.

When the two of you made eye contact, you noticed that his eyes were pink again, and you bit your lip. With a teasing tone in your voice, you asked, “Is there something on your mind?”

“What do you mean, starlight?”

“Your eyes are pink again.”

“In my defense, you’re just so fucking beautiful,” he said before he kissed you.

A soft moan slipped out when you felt Seungkwan’s lips on yours, and you tangled your hands in his hair, tugging slightly. A groan left his mouth, and you pulled away just long enough to say, “Fuck me.”

“Oh, come on, starlight,” he teased. “You can do better than that. Ask politely.”

You rolled your eyes at the request, but you still asked, “Will you pretty please fuck me?”

“Good girl. Of course I will.”

Within minutes, you were both naked again, and Seungkwan had you bent over your bed. Just like the night before, he eased into you slowly, moaning softly as he felt you wrapped around him again. He stayed still for a few minutes to avoid overwhelming you too quickly, and so that he could savor the feeling for just a little bit longer. After a bit more begging from you, though, he started to move in and out.

“Fuck. Taking me so well, starlight,” he said.

“Feels so good, ‘Kwan. Harder, please.”

Seungkwan happily obliged your request, pounding into you mercilessly while he told you what a good girl you were for him and how good you felt around him. Every word he said left you even more desperate to please him as you lost yourself in pleasure.

Just when you thought that the pleasure you were feeling couldn’t get anymore intense, Seungkwan leaned down closer to your ear and whispered, “Play with your clit for me, starlight.”

You did as you were told, loud moans leaving your mouth as the combined stimulation from your hand and his cock brought you closer to the edge. You wanted to warn Seungkwan when you started to feel your release approaching, but before you could, you came undone around him, screaming his name as you rode out your high.

Seungkwan continued to gently fuck you through your release, stilling inside of you once he reached his own high. A loud groan slipped out as his orgasm washed over him, and you couldn’t help but think about just how beautiful you thought his voice was.

After you both came down for your highs, Seungkwan helped you to stand and cleaned you up, helping you back into your clothes once you were steady on your feet again. After you were dressed again, he put his own clothes on again and held you close.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he laughed softly and asked, “So, what do you wanna do now?”

“How about a movie?”

“That sounds great.”

Once you were cleaned up and comfortable again, you and Seungkwan spent the rest of the day watching movies and talking, getting to know each other better like you probably should have before you fucked him. As the conversation topic changed from your job to what his life was like on his home planet, you found yourself wishing that the two of you could have a different type of relationship than the one you had in that moment.

Seungkwan knew from the moment you looked into his eyes that morning that he wanted a deeper connection with you, and as he spent more time with you, he only grew more certain. The only thing he wasn’t certain of, however, was whether you wanted the same thing. So, after he went home for the night, he decided to play it safe and try not to come on too strongly.

The next time you saw Seungkwan at work, your interactions with him were far more awkward than you expected. Every time you tried to talk to him; he got flustered and refused to respond. You tried to approach him, and he’d walk away before you could reach him. All day, he avoided you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he only wanted sex. The thought killed you inside, but you couldn’t think of any other explanation. So, you decided that if he was going to avoid you, you were going to avoid him too.

Seungkwan knew that he was being a dick, but he couldn’t help it. Every time he saw you, he got nervous all over again, and he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. Not because he didn’t want to, of course, but because he was terrified of fucking up your relationship. Maybe if he’d known that you wanted the same thing that he did, he wouldn’t have avoided you in the first place.

Seokmin watched you and Seungkwan drift apart, and he wondered what the fuck happened between the two of you. The last time he saw the two of you, you were practically inseparable. After a while, though, the two of you would hardly even look at each other.

It hurt Seokmin to see his two friends fighting. Especially when they were as perfect for each other as he thought you and Seungkwan were. So, being the type of friend that he was, Seokmin decided to try one of the dumbest ideas he’d ever heard and pray to whatever god would listen that it would actually work.

To start, he texted you and Seungkwan individually, asking to meet at a local bar for some drinks after work the following Friday, without mentioning to either of you that the other would be there. You both agreed, and that was when the next step of his plan could begin.

When Friday finally came, you went to work like usual, hoping that you wouldn’t see Seungkwan or his stupid pretty face. You were in a far better mood than usual, though, since you were looking forward to drinks with Seokmin after work. It had been far too long since you’d spent time with your friend, and you were hopeful that a night out would distract you from your disappointment that things didn’t work out with Seungkwan.

Of course, because you were hopeful, the universe laughed in your face by sending Seungkwan to the same bar where you’d agreed to meet Seokmin. Right after you walked in and found a seat, he walked in and took the spot right fucking next to you. You wanted to walk away, but before you could, he turned to you, gave you a shy smile, and asked, “So, how have you been?”

“Don’t. I’m just here to meet Seokmin.”

“But he texted me a few days ago to meet him here.”

As you realized what your friend had done, you groaned and said, “That motherfucker.”

With a sigh, Seungkwan asked, “I’m guessing he texted you too?”

“Yep. This was a setup.”

“Well, since you’re here, we could catch up. If you want, that is,” he said, clearly nervous.

You wanted to ask Seungkwan why he was so anxious, but you decided against it. Instead, you asked, “Do you honestly expect me to believe that you just wanna catch up?” Sure, it was probably a dick move to ask that particular question, but you didn’t care. You were pissed off and wanted answers.

“I don’t expect you to believe it, but it is the truth.”

“We wouldn’t need to catch up if you weren’t avoiding me.”

“I am not avoiding you.”

“What is it called then when someone refuses to speak to you then, Seungkwan?” He was silent in response to that, and you added, “What did I ever do to you, anyway? We were fine one day, and the next we weren’t. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Then what is it, Seungkwan? Is it because you just wanted sex? If that’s the case, just-”

“No. I didn’t just want sex.”

“Then just tell me what’s going on!”

Seungkwan was silent for a minute before he mumbled, “I was scared.”

“Of what?”

He looked up at you, and that was when you noticed that his eyes had shifted to a deep blue. Before you could comment, though, he said, “Pushing you away.” You were silent in response to his admission, so he sighed and added, “I like you a lot. I got so nervous every time I tried to talk to you. I just didn’t wanna mess this up.”

“You are such a fucking idiot,” you said, laughing softly.

“Wow. Ok, that hurt.”

“No, wait. I didn’t mean it like that,” you said. “I like you too. Now will you please stop avoiding me?”

With a smile, he said, “Yes.”

“Thank you.” After a brief pause, you asked, “Would you wanna go back to my place after this?”

“That sounds great, starlight,” he answered, his irises shifting to a deep purple.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope that y'all enjoyed this one. It's new territory for me, but writing it was a fun challenge! If you did enjoy it, make sure to write and reblog! If you'd like to check out my other works, you can find my masterlist here. If you want to see what's in the works, my upcoming works list is here. If none of that interests you, or there's something specific that you wanna see, feel free to send a request via my asks or dms! If you want to be tagged in future posts, my taglist is here!

Thank you again for reading and interacting with my fics. Happy belated birthday, Booki!

[poledancingghostson]

To put it into perspective, the same number of people texted me asking if I was okay when William Finn died as they did when I was a single mile away from the evacuation zone of the worst fires in LA history.

I found out while I was at work. I work in service, and I managed to stay professional, to swallow my emotions, for a grand total of ten minutes before a customer was slightly mean to me, and I immediately broke down crying. It’s embarrassing to explain to all the kind people who tried to comfort me that, actually, it wasn’t really the angry, unforgiving customer that had caused this reaction, but the death of a man in his seventies who I had never met.

The thing is, I can’t totally explain why this struck such a blow to my foundations. I knew he wasn’t young. I knew, to some extent, that his health was failing. And, once again, I didn’t know him. But I think he’s the reason I know myself.

As a lonely high school student with no real sense of my own identity, I found myself and the community I desperately needed in the very queer and very Jewish online fandom that formed around the 2016 Lincoln Center revival of Falsettos. My connection to Judaism, my gender and sexual identities, they all trace back to what I learned from that community.

As a lost college student slipping into deeper and deeper depression, my joy revolved around an obsession with the New York theatre scene that had its roots firmly embedded in the deep dives I had taken into William Finn’s works and the history that surrounded them.

As an aimless college dropout, I remembered the musical theatre class I had taken with In Trousers’ own Alison Fraser, the lifetime of musical theatre that I had done with the person who had introduced me to Falsettos in the first place, the way it felt to perform, and especially the way it felt to perform a work of genius like Finn’s songs. I auditioned for musical theatre school with “Love Me For What I Am,” from the original 1979 version of In Trousers.

As a frustrated musical theatre student, whenever I felt my love for the artform slipping away, as it can when a passion becomes an obligation–when your favorite songs become graded assignments, and your excited analysis becomes an essay with a deadline–it was Finn’s work that reignited that fire.

No other body of work has embedded itself so deeply in my life and my soul as William Finn’s. None have felt so intertwined with my being, and with the trajectory of my life.

I have, over the years, met most of the 2016 Broadway cast, flown cross-country to see a production of A New Brain, and of course made everyone in my university class groan over and over again by bringing up Falsettos for the thousandth time (I swear it was just relevant a lot). I could tell a hundred stories of friendships and accomplishments and survival that only happened because of the inspiration brought by the songs and stories of William Finn. They are a part of me. Irreversibly so. What breaks my heart, what will never stop breaking my heart, is that I never got to tell him any of those stories. That I never got to thank him for altering my brain chemistry–for changing my life.

I hope he knew anyway. I hope today, and will always hope, that he knew how much his art meant to so many people. People who felt seen, maybe for the first time–-people who found community when they thought they had none–-people who found themselves and found their way–-because of his shows, his music, his characters. I hope he knew that his bravery and boldness, the stories he chose to spotlight, changed Broadway, and by extension the entire media landscape, forever. I don’t think he gets enough credit for that. But I hope he knew how true it was, and how true it remains.

The grief I feel today is bigger than it has any right to be. As I sit here writing this eulogy for someone who never knew I existed, trying to put into words everything these shows have meant to me over the years–-as Mr. Bungee rides around my TV screen on a Razor scooter, courtesy of the bootleg recording of the Encores! Production of A New Brain–-as I try to come up with a way to feel okay-–to create something that can somehow honor his tremendous legacy-–the one thing I keep coming back to is the most cliched conclusion possible. That the source of this grief is a wellspring of immense gratitude that I will never be able to fully express. But I’ll try my best. In whatever ways I can.

And I’ll start here. Sharing these stupid, complicated, unexplainable feelings with whoever is willing to read it. I’ll start here. With a deep, emphatic thank you.

Thank you, Mr. Finn. For getting me here. For making me who I am. Thank you.

[once-in-a-blue-moon-rising]

Saw this beautiful gifset of the 'I need you, Hannibal' scene today, and I know we talk about it a lot in terms of how FLIRTY it is, when there are orderlies like, right there, but what struck me today is how performative it is on Will's part - but, like, in a multilayered way.

So, on the surface, it's about Will needing to manipulate Hannibal into participating (as the bait) in their plan to catch the Dragon, right? And Hannibal's said he'll only do it if Will asks, and says please.

But then, when it comes to crunchtime, the way Will does it is so over-the-top. And we know that Will can do subtle manipulation (he's a good fisherman, Jack), so why play it like this?

WELL.

I think the performance does two things.

Primarily, it's for Jack and Alana - Will's doing exactly what he said he would: he's asking, he's doing as he's told, but he's not really connecting with Hannibal in any way which might provoke suspicion about his motives. Flirty? Sure! But there's no soul-baring, no deep conversation, no yearning through the glass. He's saying: 'look guys, I'm totally normal about this high security prisoner, and am in no way trying to orchestrate his real escape.'

But, secondarily, it's for Hannibal. We can probably assume that Hannibal would have gone along with the plan regardless of what he thought Will's motives were, because he's a curious boy, and it would have at least made a change from being in a cell all the time. But we've also established that Will has the capacity to deceive Hannibal, really deceive him, and in this scene he is not trying at all. He's showing Hannibal exactly what he's doing as he does it, and in doing so, he's telling Hannibal that they're on the same side. He's inviting Hannibal to join in the performance.

So, when Hannibal smiles, I don't think it's just because he got Will to beg him. That's what it is in the context of their (now) joint performance, but in reality, I think he's actually pleased that he's won Will back over to his side.

(And then if you work back - the plan itself is actually Will's original olive branch to Hannibal; Hannibal's demand that Will say 'please', his agreement in principle. This performance is then kind of like signing the contract.)

[a-mel0n]

Okay, so I know we joke about the whole “Invisible String theory” thing a lot for Bucktommy, but this idea just hit me like a fucking train and I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t write it down. So, hear me out:

A Bucktommy “Your Name” AU.

If you don’t know about Your Name (go watch it it’s a good movie), the basic synopsis is that two people keep switching bodies when they fall asleep. The switches are fairly common, but they’re random and not on a set schedule. When they “wake up,” they only have faint impressions of their time in the other person’s body— like it was a dream. To keep track of what the other person does in their body, the pair write small “diary entries” at the end of the day to inform the original owner of the body what happened, and to just talk to the other.

Throughout the film, the two people slowly fall in love with each other before the switches suddenly stop, and all memory of the experience fades, including the memos they wrote each other. All that’s left is the faint impression that they’re searching for something, for someone.

So. Here’s my idea. The switches can start at really any point in their lives, but my idea is that they start switching sometime in Season 6, at least from Buck’s perspective. For Tommy, the switches start when he’s still at the 118.

A crucial part of the swaps is that they’re not only switching places, they’re also switching through time, which prevents the pair from actually meeting, because any attempt to meet someplace would just get fucked over due to the time difference.

They write each other small reminders of things they set up while in the other’s body on the other’s phone or on their body; a small set of rules of things to NOT do while they’re swapped; the occasional back-and-forth; the whole nine yards. Maybe you could have a fun scene of Chimney showing up at the 118 for the first time while Buck is in Tommy’s body and he has to slam his mouth shut everytime he goes to instinctively call him “Chimney” instead of “Howard” or “Howie.”

(Maybe that’s how Chim got his nickname in this universe, a whole bootstrap paradox situation.)

The swaps continue all the way up until Buck gets struck by lightning while in his own body, and that three-minute-eleven-second period where he’s dead is enough to prevent the swaps from ever happening again. Once he wakes up from his coma dream, he’s lost all memory of the swaps, and all the little notes that Tommy wrote on his phone are gone.

Despite that, he can’t help but feel like he’s missing something, or… someone. Someone dear to him, someone he couldn’t have possibly forgotten. And yet, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t remember anything about them.

(Actually… maybe there is a moment where they can talk to each other. While Tommy is passed out due to the gas leak in that mall, Buck is still in his coma dream, and they actually speak face-to-face for the first time. Maybe they promise each other to meet up after they wake up. But, once they do— they’ve forgotten all about the other.)

Tommy continues to live his own life, with this faint feeling that he’s waiting for something. He transfers out of the 118 and over to Harbor in order to satisfy that feeling, and while it does provide some relief, that feeling doesn’t go away. When Howie calls him to help the 118 out with that residential fire, that feeling of “waiting waiting waiting searching” blazes to life again, pulling him towards the ground and the people running around beneath him. It recedes fairly quickly, though, in fact— as he’s flying away from that neighborhood after preforming the water drop.

Buck, on the other hand, is in that post-lightning-strike state. He’s got his super math powers and the newfound appreciation for life, yet the feeling that he’s looking for something (a feeling he’s had all his life, independent of the swaps), has gotten a whole lot stronger and he can’t pinpoint why.

Then the cruise disaster happens, and he has to push those thoughts out of his mind, for Bobby and Athena’s sake. And then… Chimney calls in an old friend for a favor.

(“You and I… haven’t we… haven’t I met you somewhere before?”)

[espressohhh]

Three Sisters (2003) at the National Theatre, dir. Katie Mitchell

I was recently at the National Theatre Archive to see a couple of Chekhov productions, and my mind is now overflowing with thoughts

Three Sisters is a play I approach with a kind of reverence, much like Mourning Becomes Electra. Originally I wanted to see that play instead of Chekhov plays, but my grandmother did her PhD on Mourning and that has given me sky-high expectations for stagings of it. I really do like Three Sisters better than The Cherry Orchard, mostly because of the dynamic between the sisters, the disillusionment, and the yearning (yes, the cliché of yearning). It is often subject to a funereal tone in performance with three pale women in a somber house, their lives shrinking, their hopes crushed. Obviously, it is about time leaking away, entropy, if you will, but there’s also humor, hope, and desire in the play. This production, directed by Katie Mitchell, felt aware of that expanded emotional range. It didn’t wallow.

The translation For starters, I was initially wary of Nicholas Wright’s translation. Before reading it, I had heard that one critic called it “bastardly” to translate Three Sisters the way Wright did. There are moments where the text veers into sharp colloquialism, what my professor would have called vulgarization. The “low-class bitch” is an obvious example. It could easily have veered into tonal dissonance, but in context, it somehow worked. The translation wasn’t trying to mimic the period in some tame, brittle register. Instead, it gave the emotional stakes real teeth. Some will say that it’s unfaithful to Chekhov’s sparse language and Russian style, and it is, but it’s a choice that enabled the play to work for its audience. To me, it cuts through the gauze that can sometimes obscure emotional immediacy.

I wouldn’t be surprised if some people preferred that the translation used English literary allusions like Byron and Hamlet instead of the original Russian references, e.g., Gogol. According to the production bible, Masha was literally reading Hamlet on stage in Act I, which made a lot of sense considering the intertextuality of this translation. Her saying “The rest is silence” at the end of her love confession was just brilliant. The Shakespeare nerd in me loved this.

One of the highlights of Wright’s translation was the “conjunctive, consumptive” scene, which resonated both sonically and thematically. The repetition gnaws at itself, just like the characters caught in recursive longings.

Still, there were moments of sharp comedy, which directors often hesitate to let free in Chekhov, as if fearing it will take away from the tragedy. One moment that cracked through: “You’d think it was her that started the fire.” It was a reminder that despair and absurdity are closely connected and supported Mullarkey's choice to mention Beckett in the preface to his translation.

Set and sound Sound in general was used with precision. The ticking clock during the photography scenes was a simple but haunting device that underlined the obsession with time as a tormentor and ghost. 

Less successful, for me, were the slow-motion sequences. They seemed to gesture toward metatheatricality, and I found them a little too on the nose. In Chekhov’s plays, I think the weight of time tends to settle more effectively when it creeps in unnoticed. The slow-mo risked aestheticizing what should have felt mundane.

What also struck me was the spatial clarity of the set. Sometimes designers struggle with the play’s physical dramaturgy (hallways, the dining room, the offstage). This production struck a balance. The rooms bled into one another, and the birches and rain toward the end of the play were so aesthetically pleasing. The space felt porous and allowed for those great moments in Chekhov, like when characters overhear things they shouldn’t or walk in at precisely the wrong (or right) time.

The acting: Masha Eve Best as Masha — my god!! I’ve never seen such an intense performance in any Chekhov play I’ve seen. She did spectacularly well and was by far the most eye-catching actor on that stage. Her breakdowns were not prettified, not tragic in the operatic sense, but real and consuming. It was a relief to see a Masha that was so intensely emotional, because she is. In Shakespeare’s Globe’s production, Masha (Shannon Tarbet) literally failed to cry when Vershinin left her, and it was baffling and disappointing. It harmonized with Tarbet’s portrayal of Masha as colder and more distanced than Best’s. In the NT’s version, it was just totally heartbreaking when Masha kissed Vershinin while sobbing violently, only to collapse as Olga (a very good Lorraine Ashbourne) pulled her off of him. I cried while sitting at the desk watching the recording. Shoutout to Nadia for coming over with tissues and reassuring me that “this happens weekly.”

One particularly vivid detail is when Masha reacts to the news that Andrey has pawned the house. She holds on to her waist like it hurts to breathe, like something inside her is boiling. “I don’t want any more than we’ve got, I just hate the unfairness of it” is such a compact line, almost banal when you’re reading it, but it worked.

That confession scene, the one where Masha admits her love for Vershinin to her sisters, has the potential to be one of the tonal fulcrums of the play. There is definitely a risk of it tipping too far into melodrama, or into straight depression. Here, it was bright and nuanced. Each sister brought a distinct perspective to the exchange. Olga was troubled, ambivalent, and maternal. Irina shifted between hopeful and frustrated, wanting something to believe in but lacking experience. Masha was intense, developed, and so alive. The moment didn’t resolve anything, which felt appropriate. The emotions had nowhere to go and were constrained by the three sisters yet again.

Masha says “I love a man” as if the phrase is foreign to her tongue, something alien and untested for her. She mutters “This is ridiculous,” before looking up, taking a deep breath, and steadying herself. When Olga protests, “I don’t want to hear it,” you can hear the repression in her voice. Masha continues, needing to speak these words and needing her sisters to understand. Masha says “I thought he was strange at first” while grabbing the sides of her head, continues by saying “Then I fell in love” and places her hands on her chest. “In love, with his voice, the things he says, the difficulties he’s had to face, with his two little girls,” and her voice lifts into a higher register. It is eager, desperate, teetering. When Olga rebukes her again, Masha responds, “You’re the silly one, Olga. I’m in love.” And then, in a movement that echoes religious prayer, she holds her hands in front of her, palms tilted up toward her face, and proclaims: “It feels right. It’s how it’s meant to be. And he loves me…” in that high register which conveyed her insistence and immersion in her experience. Masha then continues: “It’s frightening, isn’t it? But what’s wrong with that?” The tremble in her voice on “wrong” and “that” is so delicately emotional as she calms down from the aria of “it feels right. It’s how it’s meant to be.” It is a sequence that could collapse under its own weight, but here it’s saved by the pure elation, desperation, and almost divine intensity of her confession. And Masha finishes the interaction this way: “My darling sisters, I’ve told you everything… I won’t say anything more. The rest is silence.” She raises her arms, grabs her head again, and turns around, marking the end of her emotional rollercoaster with a line from Hamlet. I was speechless.

Masha in general is similar to Hedda in Hedda Gabler, but these characters can absolutely be made to be more different, depending on the translations of the two plays, the directors, and the actresses. (If anyone ever wants to discuss HG, or theater in general, my inbox is open. I did my BA on Hedda but will never tire of this character.) The boredom, the husbands who don’t truly see them, the (intellectual) restlessness, the yearning for something more - like aesthetic and emotional grandeur. Masha’s “I’m bored, I’m bored, I’m bored” mirrors Hedda’s “I’m bored.” Interestingly, in this year’s Globe production of Three Sisters, Rory Mullarkey’s translation rendered the same line “I’m done, I’m done, I’m done.” It shifts the mood significantly, from the existential to the emotional. Similarly, Kuligin in the Wright version says he’s “happy,” whereas in Mullarkey’s, he’s “satisfied.” These micro-shifts produce vastly different emotional impressions across productions. It’s super fascinating to observe how translation can reshape the dramaturgical terrain.

To me, the most successful part of this portrayal was the intensity of her emotions and the intricacy of her behavior. Best's Masha starts as depressed and evolves into a woman discovering something/-one that stirs her mind and soul. In acts I and II, Best acts with precision, it feels refined and intelligent. Then, she finds security in that emotion, and while vulnerability could have been her Achilles heel, it becomes a strength. It's like watching apotheosis. It's radiant, powerful, and riveting. Best played this as something bright, and you see her body language becoming more fluid and sensual as Masha and Vershinin are together - as if she's thawing. When he leaves, she is heartbroken, and she releases her emotion in a gut-wrenching way before withdrawing back into the persona we see when the play begins. It was raw, haunting, and tempestuous.

The acting: other characters The ensemble did very well. Chebutykin is troubled, Kuligin is mellow and potent. And then there was Natasha. Oddly enough, the portrayal in the 2003 production by Lucy Whybrow mirrored the one I saw the next day at the Globe by Natalie Klamar: shrill, hypermobile, with the same whining, frantic voice. Is there a performance genealogy forming around Natasha? The character is codified physicality that stands in for social climbing, vulgarity, and otherness. I’ve been wondering if we’ve reduced her too much... She is one of the few characters who acts and makes something.

For now, one final moment is worth mentioning. At the very end of the play, it looks for a second like Irina might actually leave. She picks up her suitcases and walks toward the door, and it reminds me a lot of Ibsen’s Nora. But then, she sits down. Defeatedly, quietly. No door slams. No success. The possibility of action disappears again. It’s another bluff, such a small gesture, but it crystallizes everything. She realizes that she can’t go to Moscow as an unmarried woman, and there is nothing there for her anyway. Except for the idea. It was slightly disappointing that the final image on stage wasn’t the well-known one of the three sisters clutching each other desperately, but it was almost equally sad.

By the way, the portrayal of Irina by Ruby Thompson in the Globe production was brilliant. I believe this actress has not yet graduated from drama school, but you’d never know. She was as close to the perfect Irina as any mortal being can be, at least in my opinion. If this production is ever put on Globe Player, it’s definitely worth watching!

Final thoughts Critically, Three Sisters is often framed in terms of stasis vs. motion and illusion vs. reality. Katie Mitchell’s production reminded me that the play is not just about the tragedy of inaction, but about the potential violence of change. Perhaps the most striking thing is how Mitchell has managed to use the full potential of the monumental emotions in this play, which, in typical Chekhovian manner, are boiling underneath the surface. The sisters fail to get to Moscow, and they’re also changed by their not-getting. What’s left by the end is not resignation, but a kind of burned clarity. They are disillusioned and out of both laughter and tears. Everything is just dry. And tragic.

To anyone who might be going to see that production, I have a few more thoughts. Firstly, the quality is not great, but you see the most important parts like facial expressions and the entire stage. The only exception is in Act II when the lights are off and they rely on candlelight for a little while.

The production bible is very interesting, especially the rehearsal notes. Not only do they say that Best actually reads Hamlet on stage, but apparently, she needed “wheat-free nibbles” for Irina’s birthday dinner. You will also find great information about Mitchell’s rehearsal process, like how immersive it is, or the amount of improv the actors had to endure. The costume bible is also great, and you’re allowed to physically touch samples of the fabric used in productions.

The play is just over 3 hours long, so I booked two time slots for the same day to get through both the recording, the prompt script, and the bibles. I was thankful I showed up prepared, though. While I was very familiar with the play beforehand and approached the recording from an academic standpoint, it was useful for me to have notes of the most important parts of the play, where the language differs the most between translations, et cetera.

Thanks for reading! If anyone got through this never-ending text:)

[prickly-paprikash]

I have two major criticisms for the first season of Nocturne.

The pacing and the villains.

In the original series, Seasons 1 & 2 are basically just one whole season in and of themselves. It is a focused narrative that doesn't spend a single moment wasting plot or character development.

Whenever the episodes decide to slow down, it feels deliberate. The down times in the first two seasons were rich with character interaction that helped attachments grow and allow the plot to flourish organically.

The best examples of this are when we explore Isaac and Hector's pasts; and when Trevor, Alucard and Sypha arrive at the Belmont hold. There was a rhythm to the seasons. Dialogue, conversations, contest of philosophies, witty banter, and hard truths. Then we transition smoothly to excellently animated and choreographed fight scenes that have weight because we saw these characters humanized in various ways beforehand.

For the villains, Dracula was impeccable. Weak. Starving. Exhausted. Suicidal. His grief and his hatred loomed like a shadow over every single character and plotline throughout the two seasons, and the effects of his demise echoed until the very end.

Castlevania had its flaws. It had its weaknesses. Especially when it was cut to four seasons when it really should have been five. But it was nevertheless a focused narrative.

Nocturne, for all its excellence, does have some glaring flaws that are hard to overlook.

Erzsebet feels threatening and powerful, but the more I watched the show, the more it felt like these were because of purely aesthetic reasons. Don't get me wrong—her design is gorgeous, her past seems rich with potential for the narrative, and I loved how she struck the fear of god in every hero the moment she stepped into the Abbey. But she isn't Dracula-levels of impactful.

Olrox and Drolta did most of the heavy lifting. In the first Castlevania, even when Dracula wasn't the main arc villain, his presence was felt. Erzsebet doesn't have that same weight. She feels... empty at times, as a villain.

That can definitely be fixed in season 2 and I pray that the showrunners prove me wrong. I love being proven wrong because that means the show continues to grow.

The second criticism is pacing. God, the pacing.

Nocturne at times felt all over the place.

Annette's plot of her escaping the clutches of slavery? The way we saw her perspective on the Haitian Revolution? So fucking good. Richter's struggles? Emotionally rich and hooks us immediately. It's the constant, almost dizzying shifts between them, the Abbey, Drolta, Edouard, and the past that drags it down just a bit.

I loved Nocturne. A solid 8/10 for me and I am dying in the dirt waiting for the next season.

But I think the show should've been 10 episodes to accommodate the ensemble cast and their varying plots, and I hope that Erzsebet is improved upon as a villain, a threat, and a character.

[otomes-and-tears]

*grip you by the shoulder* I need your analysis of the relationship between vesper and Keir-

Pretty please 💗

! CHAPTER TWO SPOILERS !

I think the most interesting aspect of Keir and Vesper's relationship is how, despite the circumstances that brought them together, Keir treats Vesper with a surprising level of respect and openness. It’s not something you’d expect in a dynamic like theirs, especially in a setting like the marketplace, where trusting someone—anyone—can be a massive liability.

Vesper is a big liability, after all. Even if they're being blackmailed, even if the reason Keir picks them is because they're disposable, but show promise, it's still a risky decision that doesn't only put his life at risk, but potentially the people in the mouse hole, which he deeply cares about! But the still puts some level of trust in them. Vesper's followed, sure, but he feeds and houses them. He indulges them in banter, lets them poke fun at him even if he complains about how annoying it all is, And most importantly, he answers their questions.

In a place where no one shows their real face, where people don’t even share their real names, information is currency. It’s survival. But he lets Vesper in, just a little. He tells them about himself, about life underground, and makes sure they know enough to stay safe. Even when he withholds things, like the origins of the Ichor, it’s a difficult choice made for a reason.

I think that has a lot to do with, not only his feelings for Vesper, but the community he's surrounded by and how much those values have shaped him. Both his pursuit of doing good or at the very least as good as he can to help as many people as possible and his inherent kindness. As much as Keir insists he isn't a good man, I think it's really fucking clear that he has a strong moral compass, and most of all, a strong will to keep vulnerable, outcasts safe. He goes above and beyond for that goal, and all his actions are informed by that desire to take care of his community.

Vesper is now a part of his community, for better or for worse, and therefore he extends to them the same level of care and respect he'd show to the others. I think one of the things that really struck me was how we get to see the people in the mouse hole, and most importantly, Keir's inner circle, warming up to Vesper! They include them in their day-to-day chores and welcome them relatively quickly. They're all keeping an eye out for the ichor they oh so desperately need, because in a lot of ways, Vesper is just like them. Another outcast, another person in desperate need of that support and community. I like to think that maybe Keir saw that in them too.

They might not fully realise the weight of it, seeing as how the marketplace's culture differs from the surface's, but Keir is painfully aware of all of this all along.

I think especially of the scene where Vesper opens up about their condition. It's a pivotal moment. In a place like the marketplace, that kind of information falling into the wrong hands could be downright catastrophic. But it's easy for them to open up about it, to show Keir that level of trust. This information exposes their fragility, their desperation. And most of all, they're exposing it to their blackmailer. It would be so easy for Keir to turn this show of trust against them, it's easy ammo. But he doesn't. He listens, he empathises.

I think that's the point where things really shift for them. It's a little moment but I think it's so important to shape how their subsequent relationship, and most of all, I think it's what makes his betrayal by keeping the truth about lunar ichor even more painful to Vesper.