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harry45567 · 7 months ago

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Snowflake Clone Table: Your Best Tool for Data Cloning

In today's fast-paced world of technology, businesses need smart ways to manage their data. Snowflake, a leading cloud data platform, offers many features to help with this, and one of the coolest ones is the Snowflake Clone Table. Imagine being able to make a copy of your data without actually doubling it up. Sounds amazing, right? This means you can save money and work more efficiently. In this article, we're going to explore what a Snowflake Clone Table is, how it works, its benefits, how it can save you money, some real-life uses, and we'll also show you how to clone a table step-by-step. By the end, you'll know exactly how to use this feature to make your data management easier and cheaper.

What is Snowflake Clone Table?

A Snowflake Clone Table is like a magic trick in data management. It's a way to make a copy of a table, schema, or even a whole database without actually copying the data. How is that possible? Well, Snowflake uses its special architecture where storage and compute resources are separate. When you clone a table, Snowflake creates a pointer to the existing data instead of copying it. This means the clone and the original table share the same data, and any changes made to either are tracked separately. This feature is super handy for things like testing, development, backups, and more. And the best part? You don’t have to pay extra for the storage.

How Does Clone Table Work?

Let’s break it down into simple steps. Snowflake Clone Table uses something called zero-copy cloning and time travel. When you clone a table, Snowflake doesn’t move or copy the data physically. Instead, it creates a logical copy by referencing the existing data. This process is super fast because it only involves changing some metadata, not the actual data.

Snowflake keeps track of any changes made to either the original or the cloned table separately. This is possible because of Snowflake’s time travel feature, which lets you look at or revert to different versions of your data over a certain period.

Snowflake stores data in a compressed, columnar format using micro-partitioning. When you clone a table, only the references to these micro-partitions are duplicated, not the data itself. So, you get to work with a copy of your data without actually creating a full duplicate, which keeps storage costs low and access times quick.

Benefits of Clone Table

The Snowflake Clone Table feature comes with a bunch of benefits that make data management easier and more efficient:

Cost Efficiency: Since clones share the same data as the original table, you don’t need extra storage space, which saves money.

Speed and Performance: Cloning a table is instant because it’s just a metadata operation. You can clone huge datasets in seconds, which is great for quick setups.

Flexibility: You can clone tables, schemas, and even entire databases. This lets you choose how much data you need to copy based on your needs.

Isolation of Changes: Changes made to a cloned table don’t affect the original table. This means you can test and experiment without worrying about messing up your main data.

Enhanced Data Management: Cloning helps with backups, testing, development, and more. You can easily get rid of clones when you don’t need them, making data management simpler.

Time Travel Integration: Snowflake’s time travel feature works with cloning, letting you clone or restore data from any point within a set period. This gives you extra control over your data.

Cost Savings with Clone Table

One of the biggest perks of using Snowflake Clone Table is saving money. Normally, copying data means using more storage, which costs more. But with Snowflake’s zero-copy cloning, you avoid these extra costs.

Storage Costs

Cloned tables only reference the original data blocks, so you’re not actually using more storage. You only pay for the new data added or changed in the cloned table. This smart use of storage saves a lot of money, especially for large datasets.

Compute Costs

Snowflake lets you scale storage and compute resources separately. When you clone tables, you can use compute resources for the cloned data without affecting the original table’s resources. This helps you use your compute resources more efficiently and keeps costs down.

Maintenance and Management

Cloning makes data management easier. You can quickly create and discard clones for testing, development, or backups, reducing the time and effort needed for these tasks. This efficiency translates to cost savings in terms of labor and operations.

Example Scenario

Imagine your company needs to test a new application with real data. Normally, you’d copy the whole database, using extra storage and compute resources. With Snowflake Clone Table, you can create a clone in seconds, with minimal extra storage cost. This way, your testing team can work with real data without slowing down the production system or spending a lot of money.

Use Cases for Clone Table

The Snowflake Clone Table feature is super versatile and can be used in many ways to improve data management. Here are some common scenarios:

Development and Testing

Developers need real data to test new features or fix bugs. Cloning the production table gives them a realistic dataset without risking the live data. After testing, the cloned table can be deleted, keeping the environment clean.

Backup and Recovery

Backups are essential for data protection. Cloning provides a quick way to create snapshots of important tables, schemas, or databases. If something goes wrong, you can use these clones to restore data, minimizing downtime and data loss.

Data Analysis and Reporting

Analysts need up-to-date data for their reports. Cloning allows them to work with the latest data without affecting the production system’s performance. This way, they can do their job without disrupting day-to-day operations.

Data Sharing and Collaboration

Cloning makes it easy to share data among teams. For example, a data science team can clone the marketing database to analyze campaign performance without interfering with the operations team’s work. This promotes teamwork while keeping data safe and performance high.

Experimentation and Training

Cloning is great for experiments and training. Teams can create clones to test new ideas, run what-if scenarios, or train new employees with real data. This provides a safe environment for learning and experimenting without risking the main data.

How to Clone a Table in Snowflake

Cloning a table in Snowflake is easy. Here’s how to do it step-by-step:

Step 1: Connect to Snowflake

First, log in to your Snowflake account using the Snowflake web interface, SnowSQL, or any compatible client tool.

Step 2: Identify the Table to Clone

Find the table you want to clone. "Consider you have a table named sales_data."

Step 3: Execute the Clone Command

Use the CREATE TABLE statement with the CLONE keyword to create a clone of the table. Here’s the syntax:CREATE TABLE cloned_sales_data CLONE sales_data;

In this example, cloned_sales_data is the name of the new cloned table, and sales_data is the original table.

Step 4: Verify the Clone

Once the clone operation is done, check that the cloned table exists and has the data you expect. Use the SELECT statement to query the cloned table:SELECT * FROM cloned_sales_data;

Step 5: Perform Operations on the Clone

Now you can do whatever you need to with the cloned table, like updates, inserts, or deletes, without affecting the original table. For example:UPDATE cloned_sales_data SET revenue = revenue * 1.1 WHERE region = 'North America';

Step 6: Manage the Clone Lifecycle

When you’re done with the cloned table, you can drop it using the DROP TABLE statement:DROP TABLE cloned_sales_data;

This frees up resources and keeps your environment tidy.

Conclusion

The Snowflake Clone Table feature is a game-changer for data management. It lets you quickly and easily create copies of your data without the extra cost and hassle of traditional methods. Whether you’re testing, developing, backing up, analyzing, or sharing data, cloning makes everything simpler and more efficient. By using this feature, you can save money, work faster, and keep your data management practices top-notch.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

What is a Snowflake Clone Table?A Snowflake Clone Table is a way to make a copy of an existing table, schema, or database that shares the same data without actually doubling the storage.

How does cloning in Snowflake save storage costs?Cloning in Snowflake uses zero-copy technology, meaning clones reference the original data blocks, which saves storage space and money.

Can changes in a cloned table affect the original table?No, changes made to a cloned table are tracked separately and don’t affect the original table.

How fast is the cloning process in Snowflake?Cloning in Snowflake is instant because it involves only metadata changes, not moving or copying data.

Is it possible to clone an entire database in Snowflake?Yes, you can clone tables, schemas, and entire databases in Snowflake.

What is the time travel feature in Snowflake?Time travel in Snowflake lets you look at, clone, or restore data to a specific point in time within a set period.

Can clones be used for backup purposes?Yes, clones are a quick and efficient way to create snapshots of important data for backups.

How do I drop a cloned table in Snowflake?Use the DROP TABLE statement to remove a cloned table and freeup resources.

Can I clone a table from a specific point in time?Yes, using Snowflake’s time travel feature, you can clone a table from a specific historical version.

What are some common use cases for cloning tables in Snowflake? Common use cases include development and testing, backup and recovery, data analysis and reporting, data sharing and collaboration, and experimentation and training.

#Snowflake Clone Table

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vermilionhealth · 1 year ago

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These 12 Little Tweaks to Your Diet Can Improve Your Health!

Little tweaks to your diet can drastically improve your health and waistline.

Even though these tips might seem like small, easy changes, the results of putting them into practice can really add up!

Read more: 6 Nutrient Tips to Improve Your Health and Wellness!

Re-charge your eating habits with these hacks:

1. Avoid dieting. Everyone has a diet, but that doesn’t mean you have to be ‘on a diet’. Being on a diet suggests that it’s only temporary. No matter what diet you might follow, at some point you’re going to revert back to your eating habits once the diet is over.

Instead of going on a diet, tweak your current eating habits until you have something that gives you the results you desire and is easy and healthy enough to follow it forever.

2. Change slowly. You might want to change everything at once, but that strategy usually doesn’t work very well. Instead, improve your diet a little each week. This method will be easier to stick with and you’ll have a healthy diet before you know it.

3. Go vegetarian a day or two each week. In most cases, vegetarian diets are healthier and lower in calories. Try it a couple of days each week. You’ll lose more weight and be healthier.

4. Get the junk food out of the house. If it’s in the house, you’re going to eat it sooner or later. The solution is to simply get rid of all of it. Give it away or throw it in the trash.

5. Keep plenty of healthy snacks readily available. If your snacks are healthy, you can feel free to eat. If you’re eating really healthy food, you can get away with eating a larger volume of food. You’ll never go hungry again!

6. Drink water. Juices are often high in sugar or chemical sweeteners. Diet drinks are questionable from a health standpoint. Give your body the water it craves and it will reward you with better health – all the way down to the cellular level. An added plus: drinking plenty of water helps keep you from consuming excess calories, too.

7. Take your lunch. Most of the things that are available in restaurants are not very healthy. It also can be challenging to order a salad when your coworkers are ordering bacon cheeseburgers. You will be healthier and save money if you take your lunch.

8. Eat nuts. Nuts are an excellent source of healthy fats and protein. Watch out for the salt and don’t eat too many, since their calories will add up with large servings. Most recommendations call for 1 ounce of nuts per day, which is about 15-20 nuts.

9. Eat berries. Berries are super-healthy and can make other things taste better. Put some berries on your oatmeal or yogurt. Try to eat some every day.

10. Get your fiber. Unless you eat beans regularly, it’s highly unlikely that you’re getting all the fiber you need. Track your diet and see how much you’re actually consuming. Consider a fiber supplement if you don’t seem to be able to eat all that you should.

11. Exercise a little. Even a small amount of exercise can have positive benefits and curb your hunger. Move around enough to increase your heart rate for at least a few minutes each day.

12. Bake, don’t fry. Besides being fattening, oils that have been heated to very high temperatures can be very unhealthy. With the right herbs and spices, you can learn to love baked foods. Savor the flavor, without the calories!

A few healthy changes can go a long way toward improving your diet, health, and appearance. Try them out today and see if you don’t look and feel better.

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#healthy body #healthy living #healthy life #health tips #weight loss #diet

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nijjhar · 1 year ago

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Dark Age of Christ within your own heart. The Greedy Thief Pastors canno... Dark Age of Christ within your own heart. The Greedy Thief Pastors cannot enter the Royal Kingdom of God. https://youtu.be/gTSmSUF02UE NOBILITY OF ABRAHAM. By Chaudhry Rajinder NIJJHAR, M.Sc., Retired Senior Lecturer in Metallurgy, KNUST, Kumasi, Ghana, West Africa. Part 1 I hail from Punjab, India, where the Second Coming of Jesus in the name of Satguru Nanak Dev Ji appeared in 1469 among the most spiritually sick Satanic greedy people of the Khatri tribe and He Preached the Gospel through Five more Lights. As the people of the Khatri tribe were Kings and Emperors of Darkness as compared with the people of Judah tribe, the Princes of Darkness. Sikhism was protected by Four Royal Kings (Sachae Patshahs) who enforced Righteousness by the sword power as the word of mouth was not enough as Jesus had rebuked Judas Iscariot of the Judah tribe and he dare not take the Blood money home but killed himself out of the remorse. Part 2:- Now, Christ or Satguru appears when the Rabbis/Brahmins become so crook that the Prophet could not whip them anymore and they become very aggressive, confrontation between the Born-Blind young man of age versus the Rabbis and how the ruling Rabbis tried to make fool of him but he retorted, “Do you also want to become the Disciples of Christ Jesus”? So, when the Rabbis become aggressive rulers worshipping Mammon and not God, then only our Supernatural Father of our supernatural “soul” sends His Very Son that represents Father in all His Attributes to get rid of the cruel Rabbis/Brahmins and introduce Him through His Word, the Light that disperses the Fog of Falsehoods called “KOORR”, Master of the lies that is only exposed by His Word delivered by the Christ/Satguru. Thus, the First Christ came in the Middle East among the most Satanic people of the Judah tribe and then, in the East among the people of Khatri tribe, the Kings and Emperors of Darkness. I have been told that the Iranian Ayatollah Khomeini hailed from Kashmir, the world renowned centre of theology in the past. Part 3:- Now, let us revert back to our main subject, the Salt of the Noble Abraham. Abraham was of the Semitic race and so his people should have black curly hair but not so strong a curl as those of the Negroes. You will notice that most of the Palestinians have curly hair proving that their forefather was Abraham whilst through inter-racial marriages, the race gets diluted but it cannot be hundred per cent white like the Aryans. So, these snow white Jews of appearances outwardly and not spiritual inwardly were created by the greedy Temple Priests who divided the court of the Temple Yahweh, the creator of male and female letting the Chosen People with their gadget sitting in the front whilst the visitors behind the wall. That boosted the “ego” of the Chosen People and that is why the lepers Jesus cured rushed straight to their Rabbis so that they can sit in the front with stiff necks and forgot what mighty deed of Mercy Jesus had rendered to them. This showed how much Saltless fanatic devils they were – John 8v44. Whereas when a Samaritan man found that he is cured of leprosy, he instead of going back to his people returned back not only to thank Jesus from the core of his heart but also joined Jesus to know the Gospel Truth that too was known to the Samaritan Rabbis, the generation of the faithful son of Abraham Joseph whom the other crook Eleven Patriarchs want to kill him but sold as a slave that the faithful sons of Abraham through Ishmael honoured him very much above the tribal link. In the same way, Baby Jesus that the “Saltless” unfaithful to Abraham and Yahweh sons of Isaac want to kill Him for they loved Darkness to fleece the devotees. Remember that the greedy sons of Isaac, were staunch enemy of Christ Jesus and they wanted to kill Jesus and his First Fruit of Resurrection Lazarus. For this, they told a pack of lies to their stooges who believed in them as depicted in the trial of Jesus before the Pilate. This nature has not gone from them and their convert through the Messianic Jews who killed more people than the Temple Priests fulfilling Matt 12v43-45 and made the situation worse than before the arrival of Christ Jesus. The AntiChrist Pope and his hireling Dog-Collared stooges killed many and to get rid of these Middle men Jesus delivered to us His Word to Perceive the Face of Him as Moses did and showed the back to the people in the written corruptible Torah, the Old Cloth full of holes. Thus, the Gospel Absolute Truth is received through logical reasoning called intuition which the men of the dead letters, the University Professors are incapable but the illiterate Shepher www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Rest.htm Any helper to finish my Books:- ONE GOD ONE FAITH:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/bookfin.pdf and in Punjabi KAKHH OHLAE LAKHH:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/pdbook.pdf Very informative Channel:- Punjab Siyan. John's baptism:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/johnsig.pdf Trinity:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/trinity.pdf

#youtube

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jackrrabbit · 5 years ago

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Runaways /// Dabi x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: You were like an older sister to Dabi back when the two of you were teen runaways together; now that he’s found you as an adult, it’s not going to be so easy to get rid of him.

A/N: I could write a term paper on all of Dabi’s pathologies in this fic...I forgot how much I love writing smutty angst. Good shit 👌

I was planning on making this a ficlet so it’s kinda structured like that even though it ended up a full-length piece. Also, Dabi says some bullshit about sex work that I absolutely do not agree with or condone so please keep that in mind.

➠ see also: [homeowners association]

Tags/warnings: Dabi victimizes you, noncon/dubcon, light yandere, threats, cheating, NTR kinda?, mentions of past sex work, degradation, rough sex (breath play, impact play, crying), mild violence, very brief mentions of past child abuse in the Todoroki household, sad stuff/angst idk lol, *Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood plays in the background*

Dabi would know you anywhere.

You’re different now, which makes sense. It’s been years. Your old uniform of raggedy denim and hand-me-down leather has been replaced with a prim linen dress, designer label at the collar. You used to dye your hair religiously (it was neon pink when he saw you last) but now it’s styled back to your natural shade, a color he only saw back then when your roots grew out. You smell good, expensive. It does take him a second to recognize you without smudged pencil eyeliner drawn under your eyes like in the old days, but once he catches your gaze the realization is immediate.

It’s you. You. You.

You recognize him too, but your reaction is different—shock, then panic; you tug the arm of the man at your side, urging him to walk faster so you can pass Dabi on the sidewalk. The rejection stings for a second, but he isn’t too surprised. You did abandon him, after all.

Dabi doesn’t let it bother him. You’re not going to get away that easy. He pulls you into conversation, grinning when you reluctantly introduce him to your companion (who is, apparently, your husband) as an old friend from school. You didn’t go to school—Dabi knows that, and you know that, but your husband doesn’t. Which means your husband isn’t aware of your sordid past as a runaway.

This is going to be fun.

Once he knows you’re in town, he doesn’t have much trouble finding you. Your husband is a very wealthy man, well-known in this city now that he’s moved here. So this is what you’ve been up to all these years? Shacking up with some ugly motherfucker who’s at least 20 years your senior because he can afford to dress you up in pretty things and take you on overseas vacations? Dabi has to admit, he wouldn’t have thought it of you. Back when he knew you, you were so sincere, such an idealist, even in your darkest nights.

Then again…you always were willing to get your hands dirty in exchange for a warm meal and a place to sleep. Maybe you haven’t changed as much as you think.

Dabi comes to your house in the middle of the day when your husband’s at work and you’re stuck at home because that’s what you are now, a housewife. From a cocksucking whore to a pretty housewife with a dirty little secret. He’s getting hard just thinking about it as he watches your internal debate on whether to let him in or not. Eventually guilt wins out and you usher him inside, hoping the neighbors didn’t see a known villain lurking on your doorstep.

You make Dabi coffee (and aww, you remember exactly how he likes it). He gets you to talking, and you don’t seen surprised to learn about his current line of work; when he presses you, you admit that you’ve been following him in the news. Your life, in comparison, has been wholly uninteresting: you met a man, he proposed, and you married him. Very little has happened to you since. After a long silence you timidly apologize to Dabi for leaving him behind when you two were teenagers, and he tells you he understands.

He doesn’t forgive you.

Overall, things are good, he tells you. But you know, sometimes he misses the old days. Being on the run with you, stealing food from gas stations, breaking into fancy summer homes and pretending the two of you lived there. Stitching up each other’s cuts, because one of you had always gotten in a fight in the past few days. Sometimes he still has dreams about the smell of the balm you used on his fresh burns…and your cool hands, smoothing gently across the tender skin on his face, but he doesn’t say that.

You look down into your monogrammed coffee mug and tell him you know what he means.

When you turn your head like that, Dabi can see the tiny dots running up the side of your ear where your old piercings have scarred over from lack of use. Do you remember when he gave them to you? You did his first, running a needle through the lonely flame of your lighter (he offered to use his quirk, but it was still hard for him to control then so you declined) and then threading the metal through his ear. You promised it would only hurt for a second, and you were right, so he let you do the others.

Then you offered to let him do yours. Just one on each ear—you already had an impressive collection of piercings, but you wanted to let him return the favor, so he did. You were older and more experienced and had lived on the streets for longer, so when he held the needle in his hand and heard your voice saying you trusted him, it was the first time he ever thought of you as fragile, something delicate, something that he was capable of harming.

He chose twin helix piercings for you, cresting the shell of each ear, silver band rings to match his. When they were done you pulled him to a mirror and asked him what he thought. It hadn’t been long since he got the worst burns on his face (the ones under his eyes, wrapping around his chin and down his neck) and he was still getting used to the knowledge that the ugly, wrinkled scars were never going to heal. “I look like…” he started.

A monster. A freak. A victim.

“A badass,” you said. “You look fucking cool. Any asshole who wants to pick a fight with you will take one look and know you’ve been through worse shit than whatever they can dish out, and that’s something to be proud of.”

Now that Dabi thinks about it, he probably wanted you even then.

…But the longer he reminisces, the more nostalgia’s going to distract him. He came here for a reason, and it wasn’t to have coffee with you and talk about the good old days. What he’s about to take from you—what he’s about to make you give—is long overdue.

You’ve still got a little fight in you. Dabi likes that. But you’ve gone soft, filling out and losing muscle in places where you used to be lean and hard from the constant running and fighting of your old lifestyle. Besides, even if you were as strong as you’d been back then, he’d still be stronger than you—he’s a man now, and it’s incredible how small and weak you seem now that he can look at you as a man.

Were your punches always this light? No way…and your wrists couldn’t have always been this delicate. It’s really no trouble at all for him to wrestle you down to the couch and pin you there so he can tear off your stupid little housewife dress and tug your panties down past your ankles.

Once he’s got you fully naked, though, you pretty much give up trying to fight him off. It’s sad, really—like you’re remembering the past, remembering all the times you let other men hold you and fuck you just so you could have enough money to take yourself and Dabi to McDonalds for a few days. And now look, you’re plenty well-fed, but Dabi’s the one holding you down against your will. Funny how things change like that.

He does appreciate your submission, since it gives him the chance to get a decent look at you. The years have been kind—you look so much healthier than you used to. No more visible ribcage stretching out your skin; no more unhealthy pallor from going outside only at night. Your hands are as soft and manicured as if you’ve never done a day’s work in your life, a far cry from the bitten nails and bloody knuckles of your youth. It’s good to see you like this, and he lingers for a second, drinking in the sight of you and committing you to memory.

Dabi’s pictured this moment for years. He used to think he’d savor it, be sweet with you, slow and gentle to show you what you were missing with the trashy guys you used to hang out with. But now, hey—he’s the trashy one, he’s the one who wants to hurt you and own you and ruin you. May as well act like it.

Your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?

You’re unbelievably tight for a former whore. Dabi can barely hold out when he first pushes into you, licking the tears off your cheeks when apparently it hurts too much for you to keep up a brave face. It takes real effort to fuck himself all the way into you, pushing past the tense squeeze of your muscles while you…well, you’re not exactly wet, but he’ll get you there. As soon as his hips are grinding up against yours, he’s hitching your legs up on his shoulders and pounding you into your stuffy antique couch so deeply that he thinks it might splinter into pieces underneath the two of you.

God, you’re so, so, tight. Dabi feels like a virgin with his cock buried inside you, biting his lip so he doesn’t cum in thirty seconds and thrusting into you with a rhythm that comes from nothing less than pure animal instinct. And you’re getting into it too. Can you tell that your pleading and begging him to get off you is turning into moaning? Can you feel your hips bucking weakly back against his, reverting to the position of the submissive bitch your body remembers even if your mind has tried to forget?

It’s perfect, right and good and perfect, everything Dabi’s been waiting for since he first knew what it was to want someone—no, not just someone. You. It’s always been you. A person never forgets their first love, right? It’s perfect, except—except you won’t look at him, you keep looking off to the side and sniffling, and that’s not going to cut it. So he slows down and wrenches your head back to center and makes you kiss him, sliding his tongue over yours and trying to see if he can feel the place where you used to have a piercing there, too. It’s kind of thrilling, actually—wondering whenever his face dips into yours if you’re going to bite him, if he’ll come back from you with blood in his mouth.

He’s only got to thumb over your clit a couple times before you’re clamping down on him, your body begging to be used and abused. Your husband hasn’t been treating you right, though Dabi doubts the old bastard can even get it up without a blue pill. Sure, you look like a sweet little doll, so darling and delicate and breakable, but Dabi knows you better than that. You’re strong, you can take it. He knows you want it rough, so that’s how he’ll give it to you—and hey, hey, he can feel your cunt quivering around him—you’re cumming, aren’t you? So you like it. You like it.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long before, but when you cum and tighten and squeal so high he thinks you could lose your voice, the tension in his abdomen rises up and he digs his fingers into your hips and—shit, you’re saying something, what are you saying? You’re pleading, begging him not to cum inside—but, ohhhhhh fuck he can’t help it, he can’t, he can’t, he’s cumming all the way deep into your tight little snatch, cockhead jutting up at your cervix, fucking his semen all the way through you until your slit is smeared white from top to bottom.

Stop crying. Dabi’s sick of hearing you cry.

You’re still pretty nimble, even though your current exercise regimen probably doesn’t extend beyond periodic jogs around your neighborhood and weekly pilates with all the other bored trophy wives. He’s kind of surprised when as soon as he lifts himself off of you, you have the strength to roll off the couch and scramble around on the floor for your clothing.

You don’t say anything, which he wasn’t expecting. You don’t scream at him, demand that he leave, or ask him how he could do this to you after everything the two of you went through together. You probably still think of yourself as an older sister when it comes to him.

When you’d first met the scarred kid trying and failing to live off the streets, you knew he wasn’t cut out for this. He’d known pain before, plenty of pain (icy-blue fire roasting the skin off his face—spiral fracture from callused hands twisting his arm behind his back—cold, aching muscles after what he thinks is the fifth hour spent locked in a closet), but he’d never known hunger. Hunger was a different kind of beast, one that would chew the kid up and spit him out and leave him broken if you didn’t take him under your wing, so you did.

It wasn’t like you had much of anything to spare, but you made it work. For a few years. He didn’t talk at first, but he took what you gave him, so you gave him what you could: food, if you had it; a place to sleep at night; the knowledge you’d gathered in your own years as a runaway on how he was supposed to survive in a world that didn’t care whether he lived or rotted away in a gutter. You cared.

Until you didn’t.

‘Going to be traveling alone for a while. Don’t wait for me. I’m sorry,’ your note had read. You left it in his backpack along with $43 in cash—not much, but he knew it was more than you could afford. It was all you had.

And now you have all of this! Don’t you feel lucky? You have the rich husband who barely looks at you, the big house with so many empty unused rooms it makes him sick, more food than you could possibly eat in one lifetime. All of that, and you also have Dabi’s semen leaking out of your cunt. It’s a real rags-to-riches story, he thinks.

Dabi picks a cigarette out of his jacket and you stop fixing up the buttons on your dress to ask him not to light it inside. How will you explain the smell to your husband? Every move you make, every syllable that comes out of your mouth, is weighed down by despair. You look like you’ve been beaten.

He lights the cigarette anyway.

///

Before he had you the first time, Dabi thought once would be enough. Pretty naive, huh?

He makes it his mission to fuck you in every room of your husband’s gluttonously enormous mansion (what with your history Dabi has a hard time thinking of the house as yours, and considering the way you tiptoe around and seem like you’re afraid to move so much as a vase, he suspects you feel the same). There’s a lot of rooms.

When he shows up at your door again you don’t even bother to hear him out, instead just trying to shut it on him, but he forces his way in. You wouldn’t want to make him mad, would you? Not when he’s got such a filthy secret hanging over your head? Will your husband keep paying for your designer shopping trips when he knows you’re a street rat who used to steal everything she wore? Will he still kiss you goodnight when Dabi tells him you used to wrap those pretty lips around strangers’ cocks for money?

If you want Dabi to keep quiet, you’re going to have to convince him the best way you know how. A cockwhore is a cockwhore. That’s not the kind of stain you get to wipe away with time and distance and expensive clothing.

In the kitchen: standing up, your back to his front and your hands barely holding you up on the counter, so hard and rough and deep that the dishes are rattling in the pantry. One of your teacups falls out of the glass china cabinet and shatters into a million fragments in a four foot radius over the tiled floor. Neither of you notice until after. Blunt red lines press themselves into the tops of your thighs where he’s shoving your body into the edge of the counter and there are bruises on your tits from how hard he’s groping you.

In the dining room: sitting on the edge of the table, one of your legs hiked up beside you and the other on a chair while Dabi kneels on the ground in front of you, his head between your thighs and his tongue flicking over your pussy. You start off thinking that you’re going to have to sanitize the entire mahogany surface before you can eat off it again and then he licks his lips and sucks on your throbbing clit and you don’t really think about anything else after that.

In your husband’s study: doggy-style on the floor in front of the fireplace, facedown, his body folded over yours, pressing you so deep into the tacky lion-skin rug that you can taste it. He sighs in your ear—actually, you’re not sure if it’s a sigh or a growl—and his hand comes up to cover yours. You feel the metal stitches and the rough burned skin scraping on your own and it reminds you that it’s him. It’s Dabi.

(A few days after his 13th birthday, the Dabi you used to know told you that he was going to dye his hair—he wanted to be unrecognizable, and you understood, so you found some old scissors and stole hair dye from the pharmacy and you spent three long hours chopping his hair into rough spikes and painting it black. When you washed the dye out of his hair in the sink, your hands were stained inky black too. When he saw, he looked worried and weaved his fingers in with yours and asked if the dye would hurt your skin if it stayed on too long.

And you looked back at this kid—small for his age then, burned by his own quirk, trying so hard to look older and tougher than any 13-year-old should have to be, and you thought to yourself, I would die for you.)

Now you hear Dabi growling out your name and squeezing your hand as he reaches his climax and you think, I would kill you if I could.

///

Dabi saves the master bedroom for last.

Your husband is hosting a party at your house. Dabi knows because you begged him not to come today, looking up at him with those doe-like eyes, offering things you never would have offered if it weren’t important to you that he stay away on this particular evening. But he still comes to crash it. He arrives just minutes before your husband does, and you have barely enough time to tuck him away on the dark bedroom balcony and pull the curtains closed before your husband is opening the door and greeting you.

Dabi settles himself into one of the tasteful Adirondack chairs on the balcony and listens to your voice, or at least what he can hear of it through the sliding glass door. You’re sweeter with your husband than you are with Dabi, and he should’ve known you’d be, but it still makes him hate your husband more than he already did.

On the other hand, there’s something strained and high and nervous in the way you’re speaking. Probably because your husband is standing about twenty feet away from the man you’re cheating on him with.

It takes a while for the two of you to dress for the party, but finally Dabi hears you tell your husband that you’d like to take a little longer to get ready and bid him goodbye. “Love you,” you say to the old man as he leaves the room, so casually Dabi might not have heard it if he wasn’t listening.

Then you’re opening the door and ushering him inside and telling him anxiously that he has to get out before anyone sees him. But, oh, you look nice like this, dolled up in your evening gown and makeup and diamonds, trying to pull him to the door even though you must know by now that he’s not going to leave it there. Instead of following, he backs you up onto the bed and peels down the straps of your dress and slides his hands up under the skirt, and all the while he can’t stop thinking about what you said to your husband.

You used to say that to Dabi.

The first time it was an accident—you’d mentioned it off-hand during a night when it was snowing and his unnaturally high body temperature was the only thing keeping the two of you alive. “God, I love you,” you’d said, draping your arm around his shoulders and pulling him in close to share his heat.

It had stunned him and you could probably tell. Maybe the next few times were just you taking pity on a kid who had never been told so casually and so simply that he was loved. But eventually you meant it, the little love you’s before you went to sleep or when one of you went off to do something alone for a few days—a familial love borne of mutual reliance. For the years Dabi was a runaway with you, you were the only person he could trust, and he knows the feeling was mutual.

Now he wants you to tell him you love him again.

It would be hot, wouldn’t it? You telling Dabi you love him while he forces you into a mating press on the bed you share with your husband. Isn’t that hot? You’re never going to be able to sleep on these sheets again without remembering his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, his cock filling you in ways you haven’t been filled since you were 19.

How are you gonna lay next to your husband in this sad cold bed? ‘Cause that old fuck isn’t touching you, Dabi knows that much—if he was, he’d’ve noticed by now that you’re always covered in bite marks and hickeys that he didn’t give you. How are you gonna sleep at night knowing what a nasty slut you are, telling another man you love him?

So say it. Say you love him.

Oh, you’re going to be like that, aren’t you? What did he tell you about being a fucking brat when he’s talking to you? See if you’re still so defiant when he’s got his hand stroking the length of that pretty throat and then sealing down on it, squeezing gently on the veins running up the sides of your neck, not too hard, but enough that you’re probably getting a little dizzy while he continues to fuck into you. Does it hurt? Your face is turning pink. Uh-uh-uh, don’t try to pull his hand off, or he’ll show you just how good he is with his quirk these days.

You’re trying to choke out the words but you can’t quite make them make sense. There’s something endearing about the way your whimpers vibrate through the skin of Dabi’s palm, how he can hear you as well as feeling you. Oh—could you say his name too? He knows you’re feeling all fucked-out and wet and sloppy, every moan rising and falling in time with his cock stretching your pussy open, but can’t you give it a little more effort? He’s sure you can get his name out if you really try.

And if you’re not going to cooperate, Dabi may as well just dig the heel of his knuckle into your windpipe, because you really do tighten up so deliciously when you cough and sputter like that. Fuck, if you keep doing that, he’s going to cum, gonna cum right here in your syrupy pussy and spill it all over your marriage bed—but no, he wants to hear you say it first, so when you’re gagging and turning red and your eyes are watering he finally stops choking you, loosening his grip just enough that his hand is resting on your neck in a lover’s touch. It takes you a second and your voice is so hoarse he can barely hear it, but then you’re speaking and something jumps in his chest—

“I…I love—love y-you, Touya!” you sob. “I love you! I—love you, Touya—Touya—Touya—!”

And ah fuck it’s almost exactly right, your voice saying you love him, saying his real name, a name he hasn’t heard for years because you’re the only one who really knows it anymore—but you’re crying, real heavy sobs while you gulp in frantic lungfuls of oxygen. Your ribcage is heaving underneath him and—god, fuck—your guts are clenching, sucking down on every inch of his cock, every vein—

—oh shit fuck fuck he’s cumming, and he presses his face into your neck, into your hair, kissing you and thinking I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you—

—please stay, forever.

///

When he’s done, he goes for another round just to make sure you’re going to have cum dripping down your thighs when you go back to the party. No panties, unless you want him to walk through the grand foyer with all the other guests on his way out.

You don’t look at him as you fix your dress and your hair and wipe at your smeared makeup. With your eyeliner rubbed down to the bottom of your eyes, Dabi’s reminded a little of how you used to look—and the reminder is doubled when you slide your legs across the side of the bed and limp over to your vanity, walking hesitantly, your hips rocking from side to side. Damn, did he fuck you that hard?

Reminds him of the old days, you shuffling back to the hideout with that same awkward pain in your gait, purple marks around your neck, and a dim smile decorating your face—for his sake. Oh, and cash in your pockets. You’d tell him that the two of you were going out to eat that night and refuse to let him look at the injuries. God, it made him angry, it still makes him angry just thinking about it—angry at the men who bought you for treating you like that, angry at you for letting them. Angry at himself for not being old enough or strong enough or rich enough to stop them.

Anger, yes…and other things too. There had been a sick, insidious part of him that wanted to be in their position. He’d hated himself for it back then, until you left and the desire to punish you for abandoning him got twisted up with the desire to own you and keep you his. Maybe if he let himself think about it, he’d still hate himself for what he’s doing to you.

By now, you’re too good at covering up the bruises. A sweep of foundation and powder passes over each hickey he left on your throat and it’s like he never touched you. You have to push him off the bed so you can strip the sheets and replace them. When you’re done, you tell him to wait a few minutes after you leave to sneak out the back and he makes another half-joke about joining the party and introducing himself to your old man—

—and you shove him up against the wall with all the strength left in you, wrap your hand around his neck, and dig your fingernails under the line of piercings in his cheek. If he even looks at your husband, if he even thinks about it, you’ll rip his goddamn face open, you tell him in a low snarl.

It’s an empty threat (you and he both know who would win in a physical altercation) but there’s real hatred behind it. Dabi hasn’t seen that kind of fire in your eyes since he found out you became a trophy wife. It makes him want to have you again so he does, pulling your arms away from his face, standing and holding you up against the door to your bedroom, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him to keep from falling.

He’s lubed up by his own cum, and the wet squelching of your pussy just reminds him what a mess you’re going to be when you return to high society tonight. Maybe your husband will be able to smell it on you—the cum, the sex, the other man who’s been keeping his darling wife warm while he’s at work.

Well, probably not. If that stupid fucking cuckold hasn’t figured it out by now, there’s not much of a chance he’ll get it on his own. As Dabi sinks into your tight, gummy cunt again, he decides that he might just have to help the process along. A man deserves to know if his wife is being unfaithful, right?

///

Your husband’s office phone number is written on a post-it note that’s tacked to the desk of his study. It takes Dabi 40 minutes and $30 to buy a burner cell phone, leave a message on the man’s voicemail, and toss the burner in the kitchen trash at your house while you’re in the shower.

The message is short and straightforward. Dabi introduces himself as ‘the man who’s sleeping with your wife’, describes the floor plan of your husband’s house and what position he fucked you in for each room, and finally finishes it off with the evidence—the precise size and location of every hickey he’s left on your body that will still be visible by the time your husband returns from work.

Dabi almost wishes your husband had picked up the call—he’d’ve had a good time explaining in pornographic detail the way your tits look under those too-formal dresses, the way you moan when you cum in his mouth, the way you told him you loved him while he choked you out—with your husband in the house, no less. But this is fine too.

Besides, it’ll be so fucking funny if someone else at your husband’s company hears the message before he does.

///

Whore. Your husband called you a whore.

You’ve been called a whore a lot, actually. More than most people. You should be used to it by now. But it’s different when your husband says it. Your husband, the man who rescued you from a life of poverty and starvation, the man who has given you everything you own, the man who slid a ring onto your finger under a wedding arch and promised to love you in good times and in bad. The man you’ve almost convinced yourself you love back.

He called you a whore and slapped you when you tried to explain yourself and shoved you out the door and locked it. You can still hear his voice telling you the only place he wants to see your face again is in a casket.

So that’s why when Dabi comes to collect you, you’re hugging your knees to your chest on your front porch in your shiny lace-edged slip nightdress, hair in a mess around your head and your lip bleeding onto your chin. Your feet are so cold—your husband didn’t even give you time to put shoes on before he threw you out.

The night is cool and dark but the porch light buzzes on for half a minute when Dabi climbs up the steps to come crouch next to you on the doorstep. You try not to look at him, but he tilts your face toward his, electric-blue eyes skimming over the red mark and blue-black discoloration blossoming across your cheekbone; the blood drying on your split lip.

Dabi asks calmly if your husband hit you, and you nod.

Good, he tells you, and his body lights up blue in a roiling cloud of flames. He’s been waiting for an excuse to kill that old fuck.

The fire is like lightning, bright and ghostly in the darkness. The crackling of the flame eats away at the heavy silence of the night and you crawl back from the dry heat of it, sure you can feel your eyebrows singeing from being near. Dabi looks different backed by the inferno—bigger, crueler. Frightening. He reaches at the door but you shout at him to stop.

Why? Don’t you think he should suffer, after what he did to you?

But your fists clench by your sides and you set your teeth and you tell Dabi that if he’s going to kill your husband, he may as well set himself on fire too, because it’s his fault in the first place. And he’s done a lot worse to you than one slap.

Dabi waits a moment, searching your alarmed expression for something, but whatever he’s hoping for you don’t give him and the flames go out. The air smells like smoke and his hands are hot—not burning, but uncomfortably hot—when he kneels in front of you and rubs a thumb over your bruised cheek.

“(Y/N)—” Dabi starts, and then he can’t find a way to finish. So he just gathers you up in his arms and carries you bridal-style down into the lawn and to the driveway, where he’s got a car waiting to take you guys back to his place. You don’t resist, which surprises him again. He thought you’d push away at him, scream, get angry—he thought he’d have to convince you. Or force you, like he usually does. But you just let him deposit you in the seat next to the driver’s.

Before he gets in, he asks you if you need anything from your house. He can go get it for you. See if any balding motherfucker in his forties can stop him. But you just shake your head.

“There’s nothing,” you say blankly. “I have nothing. I…have nothing.”

Just like back then.

“Not nothing,” Dabi tells you, turning forward to the road so you can’t see the look on his face. “You have me.”

///

In the end, he does understand. He understood it the second he held that goodbye note in his hands and knew you were lost to him.

You were 17 when you met him and 19 when you left—hardly older than a child yourself. You barely had enough to provide for your own needs, much less a teenage boy’s. By the time you left, Dabi was more than capable of surviving on his own and already falling into ugly crowds, gangs and syndicates who saw money in his quirk, people you’d sacrificed a lot to keep him away from. He no longer needed you, and it was time for you two to go your separate ways. Dabi understands that.

But now you need him. Just like you needed him when you were fucking strangers for food money; like you needed him when you ran away; like you needed him when you got trapped in this mundane, sparkling-clean life, a life that was never going to fit you. Only this time—this time, Dabi’s old enough for you. He’s not a kid anymore, he’s a man. He’s got an apartment and a good job (well, kind of) and he’s got money. He can provide for you the way you’ve always needed him to.

Dabi’s going to take care of you, and you’re never, ever going to leave.

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positivityjediprince · 3 years ago

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Amnesia AU

Everything is perfect. Din is Mand'alor and Luke is his consort. They are incredibly popular and their rule prosperous, of course not without difficulty, Mandalore is thriving. Children are being adopted left right and centre, force sensitive ones attend Luke's school in the capital, the mandalorian people are united and their shrinking numbers growing once more.

The people love their Mand'alor and adore his consort. They represent mandalorian ideals and, most of all, they are ridiculously in love.

On paper, everything is perfect, no one should be displeased with how the culture has adapted and grown. But some are. Some are seething in the dark waiting for a plan and a moment to strike. They believe this Mand'alor and the whole of Mandalore are poisoned by the Jedi's presence, and ruined by the acceptance of different interpretations of the Resolnare. It makes a mockery of their history and traditions.

These people have been brought together and organised by Clan Vizla (minus Paz whom they disowned long ago). Until now they had no idea how to fix the world, that was, until someone mentioned a group of women who were once nightsisters and could perform interesting things with the Force.

They have nothing but contempt for Luke whom they blame for their ruined lives, and agree to help - for a price and certain conditions. Along side money they want their pick of Force sensitive children to train and indoctrinate. Despite being mandalorians their desire to get rid of Din and Luke overpowers their desire to protect children. A deal is struck.

They decide to make Din and Luke forget eachother, to revert them to who they were before they ever met. And they make the people forget Din and Luke, forget the people who helped them prosper. The head of the Vizla clan takes the throne, and the council is filled with members of the group.

Din finds himself on a random planet. Luke on another. Both are used to this, after all they've forgotten the life they made together in Mandalore, they've forgotten they used to wake up next to their husband, they've forgotten they had a home.

Din still has Grogu, he resigns himself that no Jedi is coming to help them and once again begins, well continues, his life as a bounty hunter. The world has forgotten Din Djarin, Mand'alor the Uniter, but remembers Mando the best bounty hunter money can buy.

The world has forgotten Luke Skywalker-Djarin, consort to the Mand'alor and Master of the New Jedi Order, but remembers Luke Skywalker last Jedi and Hero of the Rebellion.

But love and the force are stronger than the usperpers realised, or could ever know.On a planet, in a ruin and exhausted Din Djarin meets Luke Skywalker once again.

There is about the Jedi. There is something about the Mandolorian. They run into some, what they thought were, deactivated droids. They fight side by side. It's beautiful. It's leathal. Their eyes meet as the battle ends and the universe stops.

They agree to live on the planet for a few months, so Luke can train Grogu to be safe with his powers so he can stay with his father.

They cook, they laugh, they spar together and watch one another tend to Grogu's every whim. And once again, Din and Luke fall in love. But, its harder this time, they forgotten the life they built, a life made possible by helping unite the mandalorian people and revive the planet. Now they feel the approach of their separation, once Grogu is confident enough they'll go their separate ways, perhaps forever.

Meanwhile, Mandalore is in crisis. Ruling is hard, and keeping the mandolorians from in fighting even harder.

There are rumours of a coup, lead by Paz, Bo-Katan and Cara - who are unable to shake the feeling that something that once was is no more and that somehow they, despite their wild differences, are a team united under something.

Knowing they will loose a trial by combat against Bo-Katan, one of the members flees with the darksaber. They come across an unimportant planet and hide in an unimportant village. But it is not as unimportant as it seems. Strolling through the market they spot, to their horror, a mandalorian, a jedi, and a tiny green child.

Despite their regression to their past selves they have found eachother yet again. They inform the council, who order their deaths.

They attack the, no longer, family. The Darksaber is the only option to destroy them. But threatening Din Djarins loved ones, even if he is refusing to acknowledge it, is the most foolish thing anyone can attempt.

They loose the Darksaber. Once again Din becomes Mand'alor.

Paz, who was sent to find the missing council member and bring them back to Mandalore for Bo to fight, arrives to see his Vod standing with the saber in hand and a Jedi cradling his child.

He tells them everything. They return to Mandalore.

For many, at Din's appearance, the spell is broken. With the mist cleared they rejoice for their Mand'alor and consort.

Din and Luke, who were target most intensely, still do not remember, simply assuming the people are celebrating due to tradition and the removal of a tyrannical government.

Luke convinces Din to stay. Din convinces Luke to Stay.

Asoka Tano visits Mandalore, Bo insists she can restore her Mand'alor and his consort, even if they insist nothing is wrong. They're happy. They're safe to fall, to be in love without fear of parting.

Sensing the twisting of their memories through the Force Asoka promises "I can return you to your former lives." But Luke and Din are looking at eachother with such open adoration and, as they lean their foreheads against one another's while cradling their child, Asoka decides to leave it. They deserve to fall in love and rediscover peace and home once again.

And they do.

#dinluke #skydalorian #why is it written like a weird poem? i dont know #i was awake and stressed and this came out lmao #and yes i know this isnt how the force works #BUT STORRRYYYY #and yes #this is shamelessly inspired and taken from Cinderella 3: A Twist in Time #its one of my all time favourite films #and i will fight #also i just love amnesia but they fall in love again #no one can stop Din and Luke falling in love #i weirdly enjoyed writing like this for a change but i know its not for everyone but yolo #also i submitted my application to music school - hopefully one step closer to being a trans soprano opera singer #fight the traditions and elitism #be trans throw hands #luke skywalker #din djarin

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flowerbloom-arts · 3 years ago

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Welp, since two people asked (@xanzusx and @ratdaduniverse ) I suppose I have an excuse to do an unnecessarily deep dive into a character literally nobody cared about that much or bothers to draw before I came along with my thing for all too unpopular characters!

Let's start with a quick tl;dr :

Aunt Jane is (probably, this is more speculative than anything) a victim of capitalism and misogyny working together to create a damaged woman with anger issues and a toxic relationship with money.

How, you may ask? Well, let's take a close look at her titular, starring, and only episode of the 90s series;

episode 27: Aunt Jane

In the beginning of the episode, Moominpappa receives a letter from an aunt from his father's side and it's made immediately clear that he is not a fan of his aunt or the reason she sent the letter to him, it's also stated that Aunt Jane had no one else to turn to besides her nephew to "discuss money matters" as the episode puts it. Moominpappa says that he isn't really scared of Aunt Jane herself (though she is quite scary and a not-great person as MP himself describes, being bossy and not letting people have a moment of peace) but it's the money he's afraid of, he's afraid of having to discuss something he knows nothing about with someone he dislikes, so he takes it upon himself to leave before she arrives. (sidenote: this may tie into some fear Moominpappa has of looking dumb and ruining his ego, aswell as generally not being able to put up with people he finds unpleasant for very long)

Then Aunt Jane arrives on a rowboat down the Moomin Valley river with someone else rowing for her (cool detail: her boat actually matches her umbrella! We can assume she owns the boat based on this and the rower is either an employee or some guy she paid [his mustache is delightful by the way, I love the round little fella]) and she just has this... Very odd blank stare as our very first shot of her? It's an odd first impression for the viewer to be sure.

Jane gets off the boat and the rower simply continues down stream without her, Jane notices Snufkin fishing and asks for directions to Moominhouse, Snufkin gives her the tip and then Jane asks Snufkin if he could carry her suitcase of gold coins for her. Snufkin politely declines, saying he's busy, and then Jane attempts to bribe Snufkin by offering a "handsome reward" in a very confident manner, almost as if that trick has always worked before. Snufkin still declines, saying he just wants to fish. Aunt Jane is legitimately shocked at Snufkin not wanting money, now a first-time viewer might interpret this as Jane being vain with her wealth but it actually ties into how everyone in her life would simply be interested in her money (which is something that'll be elaborated further on) so Snufkin is perhaps the first person in a long while to not be interested.

Jane has little time to let that sink in as Sniff (the ultimate capitalist of the show) runs in, introduces himself as simply someone to help take her to Moominhouse and goes to help Jane carry her suitcase, to which Jane simply acts like a more poised individual and bimbles behind Sniff.

They arrive at Moominhouse right after Moominpappa had already left in the previous scene, Aunt Jane adjusts her glasses and says "A round house? How stupi- typical of my nephew." which establishes that Jane... doesn't like her nephew (and considers round shaped houses as being dumb [which I think a couple architects/engineers would agree but correct me if I'm wrong])

Jane gets welcomed by Moominmamma and after Moomintroll introduces himself Jane's attention immediately goes to Little My, assuming that My is a child of the family, she says that My's too small for a daughter (her expression says that she's bothered by it more than anything), then Moominmamma explains that Little My's not related but lives with them and My says she won't get any bigger, to which Jane simply squints at the small creature in a strange but I guess concerned manner? It's easy to assume that there were some strange beliefs about daughters that she was raised on.

Jane then asks where her "worthless nephew" is (again, she doesn't think highly of him), Moominmamma barely manages to not tell her the truth and Moomintroll saves her by saying Pappa's away to find inspiration for his work. Jane says "When has he ever worked? I'm here to see him!" (Score 3 for putting down her nephew) and Moomintroll suggests she should talk to him instead, Sniff butts in saying Moomintroll knows nothing about money and Aunt Jane simply says "In that case it's about high time he learned! As for his father, I may still disinherit him." (Score 4), Sniff says he's a member of the family and she can talk to him about money, Moomintroll says he's a great friend of his, and Jane adjusts her glasses then says "But hardly a member of the family" (we can see here she only really cares about relations more than anything when it comes to others taking care of her money, perhaps the money was passed down through generations and she wants to uphold that tradition, which is only one major reason she wants to get rid of it)

Snork and Snorkmaiden walk in, Snork introduces himself and explains how his sister is a "special friend" to Moomintroll and basically that they might get married someday, thus merging the Snork and Moomin family together, thus making them practically family already (Which I find just so utterly hilarious, he can be such a weasel I love him). Jane doesn't accept that as an argument (OBVIOUSLY) so Snork explains that he needs money to fund his flying ship project, and then Mr. Hemulen walks in with a very happy confidence (that chaotic metallic theme [you know the one if you pay attention to the soundtrack] cues but then stops shortly, I got so hyped and it just ended like that :( ) and he tells Aunt Jane about himself and asks her to fund his scientific research (assuming Sniff had already told her about it) and Sniff tries to save it by explaining that they could grow a greenhouse of orchids and roses and sell them to make money, he corrects himself by saying "I mean you'll make alot of money!" instead of "we'll" which he thinks might make her more lenient to the idea, but Jane shuts it down by saying she already has plenty of money (showing that she really isn't interested in hoarding wealth, she's satisfied with what she has especially since the whole point of going to the Valley was to shove her money-related issues onto her nephew)

The three guys try to talk over eachother trying to explain themselves, Jane is overwhelmed and confused so she stops them and asks Snork to clarify that he's Snorkmaiden and it goes downhill from there, Snork asks if he's explained his connection to the moomins well enough, Sniff says he's a friend of Moomin's, Mr. Hemulen asks Sniff if he could explain his research to her for him, and they all talk over eachother, Aunt Jane looks back in forth in a confused and overwhelmed manner and then gets angry, then she yells "BE QUIET EVERYONE!" with an overhead shot of Moominhouse (this sort of sets up Jane's anger issues which builds and builds until the climax of the episode)

Moominmamma escorts Jane to her room and tells her that she can call if she needs anything before leaving Jane alone, Jane more or less just observes her surroundings (it's clear she wasn't used to such a simple environment but she isn't opposed to it either) and then sits down on her bed with her eyes closed, looking peaceful for literally less than two seconds before Sniff knocks and she stands up instantly with her hands held in front of her like a "proper woman" sort of pose. Sniff stumbles in the room with the suitcase of gold and sets it on the floor, Jane thanks him and then Sniff stands there and looks around as if he's looking for something and goes "Ehem". Jane sees this and unenthusiastically asks "What is it? Want a reward?" (This is like the most telling scene of the episode and shows that this kind of thing is something that she's used to) Sniff lies at first but then admits it after a second thought, he hesitates and looks around if anyone would eavesdrop on them, Jane tells him to make up his mind and then Sniff gets close to her and whispers that he knows where Moominpappa is, Jane dismisses it saying she knows that he's on a trip (atleast she's willing to believe it? Doesn't revert any of her put-down points tho), Sniff corrects her by saying he's actually nearby and Jane is immediately interested and asks Sniff where he is, Sniff says Pappa said not to tell her where he is since it's a secret and after teasing it with her Sniff says he'll be taking a risk if he tells her so Jane asks "Oh, how much do you want?" knowing full well Sniff wanted to get paid for this without him even saying it, Sniff plays it safe and says she can decide how much she'll give him.

Sniff leads her on the beach, Snufkin notices this and runs to the cave to warn Moominpappa before she arrives (what a champ, that Snufkin) and then Sniff and Jane enter the cave with it's watery floor, Jane thanks him with a singular silver coin, Sniff asks if that's it and then Jane replies (with a very angry tone) that yes that's it until she actually sees her nephew, the two enter the cave with no Moominpappa in sight, Sniff is bewildered by this and Jane is very angrily disappointed that her "worthless nephew" (Score 5, though it's just a repeated insult, it still counts) isn't there, Sniff says "this is very strange!" while desperately looking for Moominpappa and Jane assumes Sniff had tricked her and takes away Sniff's one coin as punishment and simply leaves despite Sniff's desperate cries that he has to be there somewhere.

Jane goes back to Moominhouse and enters the kitchen to ask Moominmamma where Moominpappa is hiding, Moominmamma gasps and tries to reiterate the lie Moomintroll said, but Jane says she wants to know the TRUTH, so Moominmamma stutters and Jane tells her to hurry up, Mamma sadly admits that Moominpappa is hiding in the cave but Jane says she's already been there and didn't find him. Mamma is suddenly hopeful and is like "Oh so he really must have gone on a trip!", Jane proceeds to ask why Moominpappa would want to hide from her anyway, Moominmamma "suggests" that maybe Moominpappa is afraid of her, and Jane gets legitimately surprised and furious over this and asks "But why!?", Mamma says that he's mostly afraid of money matters, Jane exclaims "Incredible!" and contemplates "Afraid of me because of money matters...?" and then storms out of the kitchen saying "He must be utterly mad!" (Score 6)

Jane sits down on the table in her room and talks to herself about how this family is so confusing and only Sniff seems to know anything about money, Little My enters smuggly and shits the behind her, saying she knows where Moominpappa is at that moment, Jane assumes Little My wants gold from her and My says she couldn't care less about her silly gold, Jane strangely enough seems to try and defend the thing by saying "My 'silly gold' indeed! With my 'silly gold' I can assure you you could do just about anything you want!" and My claps back with how it isn't helping her find Moominpappa, this arouses Jane and My continues saying she should forget about her money. Jane responds by turning around in her chair to look at Little My directly and says "Young lady, money isn't something you could just forget about! It needs constant looking after- that's why I must talk to Moominpappa at once! Now take me to that rascal nephew you of mine if you really know where he is, you hear me!?"

My and Jane walk down the dirt path and see Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden being all lovey-dovey with eachother on a tree stump, saying how they love eachother and such, Jane scoffs "Oh, how frivolous!" and My smugky responds with "Not really, if I could find a small enough boyfriend, I'd be frivolous just like them too!" and starts to walk away, Aunt Jane turns to her and says with a very strong sense of longing "Ah well, Fredrick and I were frivolous once..." (With an inexplicable voice change by the way) and My just teasingly says "Really? If you says so! Suppose I'll have to believe you!" while still walking away, and Jane gets so mad at this dismissal/mockery that she almost snaps her umbrella but stops herself and stomps forward to follow Little My. The marshmallow couple notices the two and follow them.

Little My interrupts a game of chess between Snufkin and Moominpappa in Snufkin's tent, she introduces them to Jane as a "special guest" and Snufkin is shocked by her presence, he says Moominpappa's name and he looks up to look at his very angry aunt, Moominpappa runs out of the tent and Jane chases him with her umbrella around a tree and stomps on the ground with enough force to make Moominpappa, Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden hop off the ground (OKAY I'M NOT GONNA GET INTO THIS PART SINCE IT DOESN'T REALLY TIE INTO THE THESIS THAT MUCH AND WOULD BE TOO SPECULATIVE BUT HOLY CRAP??? HOW??? WHY DOES SHE HAVE THAT KIND OF STRENGTH??? IS IT SUPERNATURAL??? HELP????), this causes Moominpappa to fall over on the ground and Snufkin intervenes by saying Moominpappa was just coming back from his trip and stopping by to play chess with him, Moominpappa tries to go along with this but Little My says it's no use since Moominmamma already told her the truth, Moominpappa gets all defeated and Jane asks him why he's afraid of her, Moominpappa says it's not that he's afraid of her, he's afraid of her money. Jane gets enraged by this and stomps of the ground again to send everyone hopping, she then tries to "reason" with Moominpappa on this by saying "It's perfectly good money and all in gold coins! Listen nephew, I'm depending on you as my only relative!" (For some reason her voice gradually gets higher pitched in this line? But anyway this just confirms Moominpappa is literally the only family she has left), Moominpappa echoes "Yes, yes, depend." and Jane continues with "When I get too old to do it, you must look after my gold for me! I'm relying on you!", Moominpappa gets spooked by this and desperately suggests they should just give it away to people who need it, Jane blurts out "HOW UNGRATEFUL!" and turns red from rage but then is subsides, the red fades away and Jane, probably after having a thought, breaks into actual sobbing and falls to the ground to cry even more, Moominpappa tries to comfort her and suggests that maybe they should put it in a bank, Jane retorts through her sobbing that her money would hate being in a bank and it's a terrible idea (which is the start of her talking about it like it's a person/entity which follows to the very end of the episode), Moominpappa reassures her by saying banks are so nice these days and Jane looks up asking "They are...?", Moominpappa continues by describing how they have "Flowers and shiny little piggy banks and paintings on the wall!" and Jane lifts herself up asking "Is that really true...?", then Moominpappa tells everyone they should go home and fix a welcoming party for Aunt Jane, the scene ends with a shot of a sad Aunt Jane looking around everyone, possibly confused or even sorry.

We cut to the dinner party when Mamma is putting the cake on the table saying it's her grandma's best recipe (I have to note that Aunt Jane's face here is just... So sad and guilty-looking), Moominpappa gets up and says to drink a toast to the only millionaire in their small circle and how he hopes she'll live a long and happy life. Everyone drinks except for Jane who simply looks around and then looks down at her glass to sigh, Moominmamma asks what's wrong and Jane says "Never in my life have I and my money felt ourselves so welcomed before, I'm so happy I could cry" (jeez woman that is actually sad to hear considering just earlier that day 3 complete strangers went to her asking for money and her nephew literally tried to hide from her before she even arrived, that must've been one heck of a welcoming party) and then she genuinely starts crying saying "And once you start crying- you just wanna go on and on-" and proceeds to sob a bit and says "Oh dear- oh deAr- Moominmamma-" and looks up "Moominpappa-?" Moominpappa answers and she says "I'll put some of my gold in a bag, but you must look after the rest when I'm too old!", Moominpappa hesitates and then Jane snaps into anger mode by asking "Why not?" and slamming her fists against the table, Moominpappa sheepishly describes how they'll take care of it and Jane says it's not what she had in mind though it does sound nice and sufficient, but then she says how the money will miss her. She decides then and there that she'll leave the suitcase of gold to Moominpappa so they can "get sorta used to eachother" and use it as they please, even complimenting the flying ship and botanical research funding as rather splendid. Everyone is happy except Sniff who laments he should've gotten a better idea than flowers, and the episode ends with Jane smiling and a pan out of the house as the narrator closes off the episode.

Alright so already we have quite alot to unpack here and it's all gonna get a bit rambly and jumbled if I don't segment it into specific parts so let's do that. We're gonna put allllll of that baggage into 5 parts

1. Moominpappa and the lack of a family

2. Money is not a good partner

3. A woman millionaire

4. A bitter, lonely maiden

5. Conclusion

1. Moominpappa and the lack of a family

It's been stated twice that Moominpappa is Aunt Jane's only relative, and it's said that they relate through Moominpappa's father.

(Side note: We'll be going by the 90s cartoon canon because Aunt Jane is a moomin comic strip character and in the comic strip Moominpappa wasn't left at an orphanage I don't think, so it's logical to assume they just met eachother because they're family. But we're talking about the 90s canon where Moominpappa WAS left at an orphanage like in Moominpappa's Memoirs/Exploits of Moominpappa)

It's really unclear on the backstory of their relationship. It's unclear how these two met, it's unclear when they've met, and it's unclear how they knew they were related. Moominpappa clearly met her atleast without anyone in his current family (esp. Moominmamma) and hasn't talked about her ever since (given how literally nobody INCLUDING MOOMINMAMMA knew who she was) which to me signifies that their encounter was both somewhat isolated and unpleasant given how he describes her as bossy and not letting people have a moment of peace (which only brings images of some kind of business setting when they met in my mind, and knowing how Moomin stories operate Moominpappa probably found himself as one of her employees somehow). Whatever happened between them has certainly put a sour taste in eachother's mouths, making Moominpappa believe Aunt Jane to be unpleasant enough to avoid at all cost (he probably also witnessed the horrors of wealth which is why he's scared of her money) and Jane believing Moominpappa to be incompetent, worthless and idiotic.

Pulling back from whatever encounter they had... Was Aunt Jane aware of her nephew's existence before then? We don't know the circumstances which lead to Moominpappa's parents leaving him at an orphanage in a paper grocery bag (if the person/people who left him ever WERE his parents), and since him and Aunt Jane are the last members of their family, it's easy assume something tragic most likely happened to the parents. And not only that, the rest of Jane's family would've been gone aswell, leaving Jane as the sole heir and possibly not knowing about her orphaned nephew. Can you imagine being in such a position? Your whole family is gone for whatever reason, you're the only one left to your knowledge, and you have all the money you could ever want in the early 20th century. You are responsible for millions of [money unit] in gold coins. Jane is responsible of that kind of money. And what is that to her?

2. Money is not a good partner

Aunt Jane's relationship with money is extremely weird but clearly somewhat toxic in a sense. We know she has it in the millions and she's not interested in making more of it (though we do have to ask if she runs a business or if all of it is inheritance and nothing more, does she turn in a profit? What business does she work in? How big is her paycheck? Does she work with employees? Why is it all in gold coins? Where does she even live? Nobody knows! It's all vague and unspecified and there really is no point in speculating something like this because there's literally no evidence to speculate about)

Anyway, money is 3 things to her: it's something people use to get what they want, it's a burden and it's something that needs to be taken great care of. It's both a commodity and a child to her, she doesn't particularly "like" having it yet she thinks it's in need of care by someone she knows she could trust, it's a pet she doesn't want since it attracts so many people who want to pet it. By the end of the episode she treats her money like it has feelings, it "hates being in a bank" (presumably because it's "uncomfortable" since Aunt Jane is swayed as Moominpappa describes how nice they are), it "has never felt so welcomed", it "will miss [Jane]" and it "needs to get used to Moominpappa", the thing is she hasn't treated it like an entity with feelings until her breakdown near the end of the episode. Moominpappa's "ungratefulness" broke her so much that she resorted to characterizing her money, and it's unclear if she ever has done this before in her life. It's odd to me, but her life does revolve around the thing, for all we know she's gone for extended periods of time talking to her money when she feels particularly unsafe/alone, but I digress.

Aunt Jane has presumably spent alot of her life taking care of her money and fears growing too old to do so anymore, so she turns to the only person she believes she could trust to continue that legacy. She has enough wealth to do whatever her heart desires, And what is her social reward for having such wealth to look after?

3. A woman millionaire

Misogyny exists. Yes, even in the moominverse, it sucks but it's true even if it isn't explicit sexism. Jane is presumably single, she had someone by the name of Fredrick who she was "frivolous" with but clearly that didn't work out as implied with the tone of her voice when she drops that information, Jane is alone in her wealth and that leaves her open to many people who believe they can get themselves some cash for whatever venture they want to pursue. It has happened plenty of times before in her life and it has happened within the episode when 3 males come up to her asking for funds, of course they didn't seem to care that she is a woman, not a word of it was even mentioned, but it's an issue that may be less present if she wasn't. Nobody is intimidated by her aside from Moominpappa who has met her, Snork and Sniff think they can weasel a family inheritance if they just do enough logical leaps, Mr. Hemulen just assumes she'd be interested from his botany credentials alone, and none of them really listen to her, they just talk over eachother trying to convince her to give them money until she bursts out yelling at them to shut up.

And she has to have some traditional feminity instilled in her, given the way she stands when Sniff knocks and gets in her room, how she arrived to Moomin Valley under a pink shade with curtains, having someone else carry her suitcase for her, being bothered at how small Little My is, her whole outfit among other small things, she seems to have been raised on traditional values, and those values, well, they don't lend well to someone of her status. She can be bossy and terrifying (and surprisingly powerful) but she's not respected by anyone that we know of, nobody's explicitly treated her kindly besides Moominmamma and maybe everyone at the welcome party if you count that, everyone only cares about her because of her money. Moominpappa is scared of her money and every other male only cares to get it from her for their own gain, she just can't win as a millionairess because any care directed towards her is actually care directed towards her money. And what does that treatment leave her as?

4. A bitter, lonely maiden

Jane is very, very alone. Nobody likes her as a person and the fact nobody likes her as a person only makes her more bitter and unlikable, it's a feedback loop. She doesn't seem to have anyone, and I mean, literally ANYONE. We have her rower but he's just a random guy she pays for all we know, she just sits there and stares blankly at the pink curtains until the guy rings the bell and she gets out, she just has no personal connection with anyone even by the end of the episode. Speaking of the end of the episode; she literally cries because she hasn't felt so welcomed by anyone IN HER LIFE (side note: I know I'm not supposed to bring up the comics but she actually cries when Moominpappa uses the word fond on her and it makes me so upset because she's treated even worse there too)

She's angry and alone because people use her for her money and don't care about her, everybody cares only about her money including herself, the only times she'd pay mind to her own self as a person is when she's flabbergasted at Moominpappa "BEING AFRAID OF HIS OWN AUNT!?" or when she feels disrespected by My teasing her about how she used to be frivolous with someone, Little My doesn't really care about her, she just takes her to Moominpappa to view the chaos that would ensue at such a meeting of two worlds. Moominpappa says she doesn't let people have a moment of peace yet it looks like she doesn't have a moment's peace herself, there's literally one moment and it's the one second she sits on her bed before Sniff knocks on the door.

Aunt Jane is both pitiful and somewhat sympathetic, she's an antagonist who's clearly not a good person but she has her own very understandable reasons as to why she's the way that she is. And what do we take from this?

5. Conclusion

I don't know if you know this but uhm, capitalism is bad, folks. It really just brings out the worst in people wether it's the scummy ways they gain money or the problems money causes for your mental health, and in Jane's case it's the latter. It's unclear how she got the money to begin with, I assume it's inherited but I could be wrong obviously, though I don't think that question could truly be answered. Aunt Jane is insistent on keeping her wealth and only giving her wealth away to her own family even if it's the root of her problems, but also Snork and Mr. Hemulen only ask for her money so they can continue with their hopes and dreams, Sniff is well, Sniff, but I'm pretty sure he's traumatized into believing he's only worth the wealth he has so that's another capitalistic problem.

Moominpappa is happy the way he is without the money, the Moomin family is decidedly non-capitalistic and Moominpappa knows nothing about how it works, so he chooses to simply not have it. They simply don't need it with the way things are.

And I suppose that was the appeal of the Moomins franchise that got people hooked into the fantasy of living there, it's pure freedom from an oppressive system that doesn't even give people what they're worth, it's being able to be yourself with a small, loving and accepting community.

But Aunt Jane never had that, which makes her feel out of place in this valley more than other outsider characters do in the show. And like the weirdly smooth and good animation that was clearly outsourced to a different studio for this one specific episode, being rich looks nice, but the cutthroat system of how it's made probably doesn't make it worth it.

#moomins #moominvalley #aunt jane #character analysis #character essay #long post #the moomins #tanoshii muumin ikka #screenshots #this is literally 16 words away from being 5 thousand words #what's a life and where do I get one? /j

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dadsbongos · 4 years ago

Text

Reges Sumus

Movie/Game/Show: Danganronpa (which game/anime? who tf knows) Dynamic: Izuru Kamukura/Reader (heavily mentioned Hajime Hinata/Reader) Warnings: despair arc tings, i tried to put more into izuru’s character so i’m sorry if he comes out ooc :( Summary: Izuru knows he’s miserable, but he can never find himself pulling away. ~~~

“The world has fallen into despair. A despair so deep the entirety of humanity has cascaded into bloodlust. Anger. Fear. Hatred. Those outside our walls feel it all. Those outside our walls are jealous of us. Of our hope. Of our unity. Of our home. We cannot let them take us. We cannot let them take anything that is rightfully ours. Protect this place with your lives, for if you fall - so does our hope. So do I. So go out and fight, fight with all you have, fight with all you are. For your spouses, for your parents, for your children - for me. As long as you do so, we can save this world. We will save this world using my Ultimate as a weapon.”

“Praise be, oh Dominus.”

“Praise be, Reges Sumus.”

(Y/n) outstretched her arms to the crowd, “Now go, my children, my loves, save this world!”

In near perfect synchronist, the people pulled down their masks and turned to the large front door of the ransacked mansion, picking up their guns, bats, and knives as they left. Just in case, of course, it wasn’t their fault if someone wasn’t willing to give their rations to the leader. Same as it wasn’t their fault if their bat slipped over someone’s head, hard enough to crack open the skull like a nut, or if their fingers slipped over the trigger long enough to kill a small family over a can of beans. It wasn’t their fault. It was despair’s. It was Junko Enoshima’s.

“Dominus, aye?”

Looking to the source of the voice, (Y/n) gave the boy a close-eyed smile, she turned completely and waved off the guards that escorted the pair, “Fuyuhiko, Peko, my dears!” she let her hands fall on the blond’s cheeks, pressing a holy kiss to his forehead, leaving a lipstick stain in her wake before moving onto Peko and doing the same, “It’s lovely to have you visit.”

They both knew better than to wipe off the lipstick stains on their skin, anything even close to slander aimed at (Y/n) could be met with merciless death at her follower’s vengeful hands.

Fuyuhiko looked about the lavish room, decorated with stolen jewels and furniture, before nodding, “Not fuckin’ shabby.”

“Thank you,” (Y/n) clasped her hands together, bringing them to her chest in delight, “As much as I adore having you here, I must ask why drop by so suddenly?”

Peko piped up, “We got chased out of a hideout. Kazuichi thought it’d be funny to send us some Monokumas.”

“Oh, my! That’s not good at all,” the girl shook her head before turning and beginning to walk up a set of stairs, “Come.”

Following close after, Fuyuhiko watched as his fellow Despair trailed her fingertips gently over the paintings of herself hung in the hall. (L/n), (Y/n), Ultimate Charisma, had truly built herself a cult of lies. The belief that somehow her followers could rebuild the world and rid it of despair, somehow she could save the world with the power of her ultimate status.

She had no intention of doing so, but it gave the people something to believe in and fight for - and that was good enough.

“Here we are,” (Y/n) opened a bedroom door, a queen-sized mattress laying on the floor with no bed frame, “It’s the best I can do at the moment, my dearest apologies.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Fuyuhiko brushed off - he knew better than to complain.

Peko nodded, “This is enough.”

“I’m glad,” she gestured the pair inside, taking each of their hands and pressing a kiss to their knuckles, “Anything for my comrades.”

As she left, she shut the door. What despair would become of the poor soul whose room that was, a shiver went down (Y/n)’s spine at the mere thought.

Minor, of course, but only in the moment. It was one of many things that would slowly build up into a cacophony - and she was reveling in it.

Entering her own room, (Y/n) jumped slightly at the dark silhouette standing by her king-sized mattress, completed with the fanciest bed frame she could steal, before recognizing the long, flowing hair. She smiled at the boy, hands already reaching out for him, “Oh, Izuru, my darling,” she took his cheeks, lovingly brushing her thumbs over the bones and bringing his forehead to her lips in a staining kiss, “Did you get in with Fuyuhiko and Peko?”

He made no gesture of nodding but the agreement was there, or perhaps he simply ignored her question and she was projecting upon a blank canvas, “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting you to start a cult, but won’t they tear you apart when they realize what you’ve done?”

The lies she’s told. The things she’s stolen. The people she’s killed. The sins living in her veins thrived on every weeping babe and execution splattering across these walls of hers.

“Isn’t that the point? The despair. Having everything I’ve worked for crumble when the worms revolt,” she answered, sitting upon her bed and patting the space beside her for Izuru, “Sit, my dear, I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“It hasn’t been that long,” he corrected.

“No, but I missed your face,” she leaned over, not particularly caring of any personal boundaries he may have, and brushed back his hair, slicking it away from his face and tying it back, “Well, it’s not truly your face, is it?”

Izuru didn’t respond, simply watching as the woman took a finger down the bridge of his nose.

“It’s Hajime Hinata’s,” her smile faded for the first time in a long time, a soft frown taking its place, “We were close, you know?”

“So I’ve heard,” Izuru grabbed (Y/n)’s wrist as her fingertip brushed his cupid’s bow, “I have no memory of that, you know.”

“I do.”

“So don’t force me to.”

“I’m not,” denying his claim, (Y/n) knew he didn’t believe her - though to be fair, she didn’t believe herself either, “I just like the despair of being so close, yet so far, from my beloved Hajime.”

Silence festered within the room once again.

A smile slowly teased back onto (Y/n)’s face, “You must be tired, but there’s something I simply have to show you.”

He knew where she was going with this, an attempt at recruitment as usual, but something deep, deep, deep down told him to go along with it. Perhaps it was a rare pity.

Perhaps it was the part of him enamored with the one called Dominus.

Perhaps it was the part of him that mourned the Ultimate Gamer.

Perhaps it was both.

Perhaps it was him.

Any which way, he stood and followed after the woman, the red of the sky drenching the walls through cracked, dusty windows as they traversed down the hallway.

Passing Fuyuhiko and Peko’s room, passing the guard’s posts, passing the main room - (Y/n) led Izuru to a room at the very end of the grand corridor. Cardboard had been hastily tacked onto the wood with messy, uneven letters spelling out ‘nursery’ in bold. She pushed the door open easily enough, despite the clear indication it should’ve been locked, and gestured the long-haired man through.

It was dark save for the faint light emanating from a baby monitor hooked onto a stained crib in the corner with ‘K.S’ etched into the corner. From what Izuru could see, there were about four cribs in the room and all of them filled with a sleeping baby.

“I feel no sympathy for babies in despair.”

“I never wanted kids,” (Y/n) brushed past the man and his words, her voice quiet to avoid waking the children, “I always thought they were snotty, whiny, loud, annoying little money-suckers who took and took and took until they were of age to take care of themselves and then they leave you forever…” she ran a finger over the sticky wood, “and I still do. But Hajime,” she hesitantly took a glance at Izuru, knowing she’d never find what she wanted in his gaze, “Hajime liked kids. He wasn’t sure he wanted any but I think he might’ve.”

Izuru watched the woman slowly revert back to his side to watch the babies as they slept, “So?”

“Do you want kids, Izuru?”

“I’m a war criminal.”

“War criminals can want kids, can’t they?” she huffed at his difficulty, previously cheery attitude slipping into her real feelings, “Someone being unfit to be a parent doesn’t stop them. I don’t know of any restrictions preventing someone from having a child, do you?” when he didn’t respond, she continued, “Hajime’s parents were unfit and still, they had him. I’m glad he was born but I wish it was to better people.”

“He didn’t seem to resent them. From what little I can feel of him.”

“He doesn’t seem to resent a lot of people he should. But it’s his life, who am I to interject?” she sarcastically mumbled, patience for Izuru Kamukura growing thinner, “I told him the procedure was an awful idea and look who’s standing next to me…”

“You seem to hate me and yet you strangely desire me at your side.”

“I told you already, it’s the despair.”

“I’m not stupid, (Y/n), I can see through you.”

Her shoulders tensed.

“Your request is impossible and you know that.”

She just wants her boyfriend back, is that really so much to ask for?

“My request is…” she paused, pursing her lips and furrowing her brows, “My request is…”

“I’ll be taking a room for the night,” he coldly informed.

“Stay with me,” (Y/n) took Izuru by his sleeve, fingers grasping at the clothes she’d never seen on her lover before - and she still hasn’t, technically. Because it wasn’t him, no matter how much she wished for him to magically wake up and be Hajime again - deep down, she knew better.

Izuru looked at the woman, her eyes slowly wetting and bottom lip quivering. She didn’t want him. She may have thought he was attractive, but that was only because he had stolen a man’s face.

She’d never want him.

It… stung. To know a woman so enamored with a lesser version of yourself, or who you had taken over, wasn’t similarly enamored with you. And she never could be. He didn’t like feeling so hurt over her rejection. He didn’t like knowing why it hurt.

Because he always wanted her.

He shook off her hand before wordlessly leaving the room and beginning his trek towards their shared abode for the night.

He wasn’t Hajime Hinata, he was Izuru Kamukura and he knew that no matter how much he wanted the sting to die, he would still be Izuru Kamukura when he woke up in (Y/n)’s arms the next morning.

It was Junko’s curse.

It was despair.

#sdr2 x reader #hajime hinata x reader #izuru kamakura x reader #izuru x reader #kamukura x reader

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angelicsentinel · 3 years ago

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the silence in black and white (1/?)

Prompt: Expertise | Emotion: Longing

The lights from the vanity washed Saguru out. Stadium after stadium, tour after tour. The bags under his eyes were dark and heavy like bruises. He lost himself, staring at the mirror. How had it come to this? He picked up his eyeliner, tapping it between his fingers against the vanity’s top.

The crackling sound of burning fire. Saguru watched the mirror, empty of everything save his own reflection. But mirrors obscured just as much as they revealed. He was there. Saguru knew, even if the mirror didn’t.

Hands wrapped against his bare, muscled chest. A warm chuckle in his ear as a broad chest pressed against his back. He smelled of the faintest hint of embers.

“I didn’t summon you,” Saguru said.

“Didn’t you?” the demon asked. He reached out with his long claws and rubbed the area over Saguru’s heart with one rough palm. He then closed his fingers, his hand forming a five pointed star, and jabbed his nails into Saguru’s flesh.

Saguru winced, and a bright blue five pointed star appeared on his skin temporarily before disappearing. “Is it time for the deal to come due?” he asked.

“That would be telling, wouldn’t it, Sa-gu-ru?” he said, singsong.

“You’re needlessly cruel,” Saguru said.

“You’re the one that asked for my expertise,” the demon said, burying his face in his neck and licking his throat with one forked tongue. Saguru shivered and tilted his head to the side. “And my my, how that’s made you millions.”

"I wasn't what we agreed on," Saguru said. "I wanted you to save their lives."

"And the money did, didn't it?" He rubbed his horn against Saguru's face. Spiraled and twisted, shaped like a markhor goat’s, but covered in soft velvet.

From memory, Saguru knew he had eyes the colour of the ocean depths that burned indigo with inner fire. That if he turned to look, he’d have unnaturally pale skin, almost the same colour of ice. Inhuman, one might say, if one were so inclined.

Saguru was so inclined.

“Didn’t it?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Saguru said hoarsely. “Are you taking your voice back?” If so, Saguru would be glad to be rid of it.

“That’s not how this works,” Kid said, tickling his claws up his neck to cup his throat. “It’s yours to keep.” He laughed. “The way you are mine to keep.”

“And if I refuse to perform?” Saguru asked, snapping the eyeliner pencil in half.

“You will,” Kid said, and nuzzled against his cheek. “My dearest former detective.” He spun the chair around and seated himself in Saguru’s lap sideways, booted legs hanging over the edge of the chair. Saguru was taller, but only by nine centimeters or so. The boots he wore were leather, shin-high and thick-soled and buckled. Motorcycle boots, if Saguru had to guess. Leather trousers, fingerless gloves, a fishnet shirt, and a studded leather jacket finished the ensemble. He patted Saguru’s cheek. “Your boyfriend commands it.”

Saguru couldn’t help the way his lip curled. “Boyfriend?”

“It has come to my attention I need to keep a closer watch on you,” he said, wrapping his arms around his neck.

"You've already taken enough. My privacy, too?" What little he had left of it, anyway. After the paparazzi and the fans.

"I think you'll find that won't be much of a problem anymore," he said. He grinned wickedly, his teeth razor sharp, and snapped his fingers. Fire sparked, bright blue. Saguru felt the heat, watching it warily. He snapped again and the eyeliner pieces levitated and became whole.

Kid shifted so that he was straddling him. Saguru sucked in a breath at the intimate position. He felt the heat through both layers of leather. "I'm not going to give in."

Another laugh. "Do you think you have a choice?" He cupped his cheek, tapping his claws on his temple, next to his eyes. “That’s cute.”

He leaned in for a kiss. Saguru's lips parted against his will; he struggled against the movement, but the binding was whole and complete. He could only feel; his lips were obscenely warm; his tongue carried the taste of flame.

His body reacted against his will. Despite his inhuman looks and his new attitude, his body was still Kuroba's. The demon was exceptionally, exceptionally cruel.

Saguru still managed to pull away. "Enough," he said, his voice rough, both from arousal and from fighting the binding.

"But Saguru, isn't this what you wanted?" Kid said with a pout.

He shifted in his lap, and Saguru cursed. "Not like this," he said, his voice weighted with want.

Kid traced his lips. “You should hear how he feels about this. I wonder if you’d sing a different tune, then.”

Saguru turned his head, cross at the reminder that he wore Kuroba’s face. “I don’t want to sing at all.”

Kid tapped the glowing blue tattoo over his heart, causing Saguru’s body to lock into place and turn rigid, and wrenched his head back so Saguru was facing him. His eyes gleamed. “Too bad, puppet. You signed up for it. No take backsies. Kiss me,” he commanded, and Saguru had to obey.

He fought hard as his hands and body shifted of its own accord. No matter how hard he struggled, it was fruitless.

(Maybe, he thought, it was because he really didn’t want to fight it at all. It was Kuroba’s body and it wore Kuroba’s face, and it said that Kuroba wanted this, but it would say anything to get Saguru to do what it wanted and therefore it couldn’t be trusted)

The kiss was soft, slow. Exploratory. Kid’s lips were soft. Saguru felt himself give in, little by little as Kid shifted to be more flush against his lap. Kid pulled him close, wrapping his arms around his back; his touch was hot.

Saguru had yearned for this for a long time, and it was all fake.

But he would take what he could get. Keeping the demon close would keep Kuroba close, and it knew it. It knew how to press all of his buttons and shape him to its will.

The fire was there long before, and oh, how it burned.

The door to his dressing room burst open. “Mister Hakuba, the band sent me to tell you to start your vocal exercises, you’re on in thirty—Oh, I’m so sorry!” his personal assistant held up her clipboard to cover her eyes.

Not that she’d see anything, since Kid had reverted to human as soon as the door swung out.

“Don’t worry, his voice will get a lot of exercise before then,” Kid said, baring his teeth at her. She took a step back.

“Kuroba,” Saguru scolded. He looked up at Diana and nodded. “I’ll be ready by then, don’t worry.”

“Alright!” she squeaked, and slammed the door behind her on her way out.

“You didn’t have to scare her,” Saguru said.

“A little fear is healthy,” Kid said, horns and fangs and claws back. “Let's get you warmed up, so we can play a little more before your performance.” A flame appeared on the tip of his finger and he touched it to Saguru’s throat. Warmth spread up through his throat, and he exhaled slowly.

“You’ll enchant the whole arena tonight,” Kid murmured. “I am not the demon of music for nothing.”

That was all well and good, but Saguru longed to be free.

[two]

#magic kaito #dcmk #sagukai #hakuba saguru #kuroba kaito #demons #dubious consent #rock star au #kissing #dcmkemogust2021 #rating: t

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life-rewritten · 4 years ago

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The doomed futility of Sisyphus; Sisyphus The Myth Kdrama Analysis

Before we start this analysis, I did have a lot of help getting to understand what's happening in this show especially the logical rules of time travelling, due to this website bitchesoverdrama, we have a great community over there we talk about shows and comment our thoughts and the way packmule sees things in shows is so inspiring. So even though this is my theory it is based of her own theories and opinions on what's going on in the show.

Sisyphus The Myth Ep 1-4

Let's talk about Sisyphus. The Korean drama that everyone seems to have something to say, mostly negative because they don't understand where the storyline is going, and because of that frustration of lack of understanding, they go to insults, and annoyance, and lack of patience to wait it out, they call the show ridiculous with it's terrible directing and also outlandish action scenes and unreasonable logic. The first mistake these people made is going into this show, thinking it was a logical sci-fi. There is another show where people have mistaken a mystery fantasy plot (as the writers announced it was, in an interview) for sci-fi because it includes scientific rules sometimes and discusses time travel. Do you the know the show? It's The king's Eternal Monarch. So because logical people have it out for writers using specific sci-fi plotlines to write a romantic mystery show; that doesn't actually base its self on the realism or logic of the science they expected, people call these stories dumb; they say it's ridiculous and should not have been done. And it's hard for people like me who completely gets bored at the idea of a sci-fi show, I'm not logical. Let's first get that out of the way; I won't be calculating mass, and time, and velocity and use maths and science as a base for my analysis. In fact, I usually run away from anything to do with sci-fi. But there's something funny about this, that with TKEM and now Sisyphus, mystery fantasies that do incorporate a piece of the sci-fi genre, actually make me enjoy them.

Perhaps it could be argued that it's because I'm not smart and I like ridiculous things, I only want romance with shitty writing, and maybe that's it. However, I disagree, what I see in these stories are a different sort of basis; instead of relying on scientific logic rules, or whatever is seen as appropriate in a sci-fi plotline, they use meta; they use other things to make their world mean something. For TKEM, it was literature and fairytales, and stories, and for Sisyphus actually named after the Greek myth, it's the same. In order to understand where a show is going when it uses a literature base, you have to first understand the source. What is the source saying? Why have they chosen this source to tell this story? But people clock out and don't want to wait, aren't connected to the characters enough to care, or just plain detest anything that doesn't follow a specific set of logical rules, and that's fine; you're allowed to like or want whatever you want to see on TV, it's your experience, but for the others who do want a show that is maybe deeper, interesting, laced with a good plot and love story that is sad, futile and also romantic, then I would suggest Sisyphus being for you. This isn't going to have a lot of support, and I already know this. Still, I do want to write about this show and explain why I'm into it because it has everything I like, a mysterious plot, fantasy/sci-fi elements, and a romance that is very angsty but also very deep. The show's director maybe not be as great as the others before him, but I think he's doing an okay job showcasing what he wants from the story. So yes, Sisyphus has so many scientific questions to ponder about, but I want to get rid of all that and focus on the bare bones of the story. How does this myth connect to this story, and why does it foreshadow how good this plot could be? This doesn't mean, this plot will be great because it all depends on the directing and writing skills, I'm not familiar with their work and with the director. I don't particularly care a lot about what he offers. But I know how he makes shows, I know the themes he's into and from this myth analysis, this show is definitely up his alley. So for now, I'll keep enjoying it and analysing, but it doesn't mean I think it's the best thing ever to exist in this genre. Okay, now we have that out of the way; let's learn about Greek Mythology, shall we?

An Introduction to a Genius

So who or what is Sisyphus? When I hear about Sisyphus, I think about the guy who tried to run away from d*ath but ended up being captured by Zeus for even trying to think he could do that. He ends up basically with this painful task of constantly rolling a boulder uphill. In a way, it's depressing AF, and it really holds this theme of futility and punishment. So it's interesting to see we have a character who is being punished for his brains and his cunningness to evade situations and save people, and it seems unfair that he gets this ending. It also makes me worry about Tae Sul, our main character in Sisyphus the myth, who begins the first episode evading d*ath by saving tons of people on a plane and then also wanting to revert a specific family member's demise that he feels guilty about. Taesul is just as smart and cunning as Sisyphus; he uses his skills, his brain and his talent to help people. So it's a bit disturbing because already from looking at him, it's unfortunate he's destined for a futile, sad ending; he's destined to be punished by powers be, for being an obstacle. And will you have it, the whole plot revolves around him being chased by people who want to get rid of him because it seems he's found a way to prevent d*ath and prolong the lifespan of the people he loves. What a surprise. Honestly, it's that simple; the boulder represents him having to take on weight constantly because of his actions and live with that repeatedly being chased by the thing he tried to avoid. The episodes scream that it's because he tried to bring back his brother from the past, but the thing is, there's more to the myth of Sisyphus than just this outline. So before we can truly understand the big picture and where this plot is, we need to truly go back and understand the real story of Sisyphus, the myth.

Let's go back. So yes, Sisyphus is cunning, smart, witty, he has many moments since he's apparently a king, royal full of influence and power. He really cares about protecting people, including himself, yet the way people see him is actually harmful. They see him as childish, sneaky, heartless and a player. Surprise. The thing is, this is precisely how we are introduced to Taesul. He's a big flirt, a big child who complains and acts immaturely with his company. He's someone of influence, in fact, significant impact; so much money and prominence, and yet he doesn't seem like he cares about anything. So yes, you can understand why people have a wrong perspective of our Sisyphus. However, he doesn't want to care about anything because he's self-destructive, broken by the guilt of letting pride, money and greed stop him from preventing his brother from being eliminated.

And it's something that lives with him every day; in fact, he's dependent on self-medication to get rid of the haunting figment of his brother. Now he says he doesn't care about people and others, but we know he's lying; he's clearly someone who's destined to protect, he does care even when he acts nonchalant, for example, saving a whole plane from crashing and hurting people, especially when he has said he is waiting and has been excited to leave the world, if he were selfish he would have let the plane crash, he didn't care as he said, but something in him still went back and provided the solution to help.

So this is really vital, this idea of Sisyphus being misunderstood by people in a way he's actually with a saviour complex, he protects, and he saves people with what he has yet even his actions are deemed evil or selfish or a natural disaster for them. So again, it's obvious the plot is based on whatever he has done to create this apocalyptic future we see in the show that is being misunderstood. The people who are out to get him are seeing him and hating him when in reality, it's obvious this was meant to better the world/ also himself because as much as Sisyphus has a saviour complex, it doesn't mean he's selfless; in fact, he's a very selfish character, he'll put his own needs above the world at times. This is where Taesul will make a mistake. Because for him, his only goal is to bring back his brother, even when warned he shouldn't, even when there are hints that him unveiling the truth will lead to suffering and the end of the world as we know it, it's still all he wants to do. Is it just that though? I'm getting ahead of my self I still need to break down this myth.

The Problem with Cunningness

So Sisyphus is someone with cunningness, knowledgeable and powerful, so when the first time he sees an opportunity to get rid of this thing we call mortality for people (not just him), he's punished when the gods aren't happy. Especially the god of war himself, Ares, who is frustrated at Sisyphus for chaining de*ath, Ares is upset; he is annoyed that Sisyphus is getting in his way, making people lose the meaning of war, what's the fun of war if no one is being removed? Which is interesting because we also find out in Sisyphus that Taesul's actions and mistakes and his own demise will lead to a war that will end everything and some organisation isn't happy they were at the losing end of that war. They hated the result of Taesul being alive to either cause or prevent that war. So they're sending people from the future who look creepy as hell and also like don't have limbs because they're rushing the process of uploading or just using a fake uploader with more errors (not yet sure which), but they are here with one goal; to get rid of Taesul, like Ares. Wow.

So Sisyphus punishment is actually that he is eliminated and sent to the underworld. Wait, so it wasn't the boulder that was his first punishment; his first punishment was to be chased by De*ath (I'm going to find another name for this we're gonna say D because of this stupid flagging system in Tumblr) just like Taesul is suffering in the present time in our show. Oh, okay, so where do we get the other punishment, the one Sisyphus is really known for. This is where the plot of this show unfolds, surprisingly. Because there's another character connected in this Sisyphean myth, Seohae, meaning Sisyphus had a wife. So when Sisyphus ends up, you know, getting axed, he still has a few tricks up his sleeves; he asks his wife to do something for him, not to bury him or respect his body wishes appropriately, in fact, to drop him naked in the middle of the city (that's obviously a parallel to how people are being downloaded into the past in the show visually). So because he did this, he's able to trick Hades and Persephone into letting them allow him to run back to the past to his wife to have a go at her, to tell her she didn't respect his wishes. And oh boy, oh boy, does he end up again evading D. Genius, in fact, he ends up going back to his wife and staying a very long time because it was his plan all along; he wasn't back to the underworld; they were all chumps who allowed his escape. So Sisyphus is a funny character, he chooses to go back, and he again avoids D; however, when he finally reaches his old age, he has to face everyone, including the gods; Zeus isn't happy with Sis; he says it's a bit of an insult really for what he has done, so Zeus basically punishes him with that godforsaken boulder.

Okay, hold, that's a lot to unpack. So what happened here is we're still seeing Taesul as Sisyphus in this second part of the myth, right? So he's going to find a way to avoid Sigma always and survive, but we know he doesn't. His story ends truly when his demise leads to the war if we're following a timeline mentioned by Seohae. So what is this second punishment about a boulder? Because this is the most crucial plot for every Sisyphus myth.

Our Surprise Sisyphus

Well, look at it carefully;

it has themes of running back to the past to criticise a lover,

it has themes of trying to prevent a lovers demise,

it has themes of futility and repetitive actions, it has themes of being punished by a powerful source,

it also has themes of someone who is rebellious and doesn't want to let D win.

It's Seohae. And that blew my mind. We don't have one Sisyphus in the storyline; we have two. The show's title is Sisyphus the myth because the love of these two is actually the role of Sisyphus; let me explain.

The first acquaintance with D is Taesul's story he's the one who invents a way to chain D and then is punished by being taken by D. The person who ends up wanting him to save himself is not himself in this show; it's Seohae her whole goal, her whole reason to want to go back is also to evade D for her mother (she mentions this in episode 1 to her father) but also to stop Taesul from being eliminated, to stop the war but more of all because she loves him, she's married to him, they're meant to be lovers. However, she doesn't have all her memories of everything. All she knows is that another version of her self has told her she needs to go back in time to warn Taesul, so he doesn't make this mistake, so they live happily together after marriage, and the war doesn't happen.

Ohhh, that's what's happening. So who's Zeus, you ask? It's the ICB, the Control Borough, that has to find balance and makes things right with all of the time travellers; they're looking for Seohae because she's illegal; she's not meant to be doing what she is doing. Just like Zeus has to intervene to punish Sis. So alright, we're getting there, we have Taesul, he's going to do something to avoid D, but unfortunately, he is going to be found by D because someone does not want him to succeed. Okay, however, we have Seohae; she is in love with Taesul and is determined to keep him safe. Hence, she finds a way to go back and warn him to prevent D from finding him; she essentially tricks the system to find and save the world, but also selfishly to go live a happy life with the guy she loves. So what's this about this boulder then?

The boulder; A heavy frustrating punishment

Well, unfortunately for our two characters, it's pretty apparent Taesul always ends up being eliminated #, and it always leads to the war that destroyed earth. But also we know Seohae gets shot; during her wedding, she also is fated to suffer and be eliminated if she goes back to save Taesul. Her father warns her repeatedly about this. She doesn't listen. The clue here is the boulder keeps on being pushed; Sisyphus is in a constant struggle of the futility of his punishment; he can't escape; he is tied to this boulder to keep trying to push it to a destination, but all he does is repeatedly keep pushing the boulder infinitely.

Oh, wait, a show about time travel, a show about the futility of trying to change the past, a show where the future versions can go back with regret and meet their past versions which make the same mistakes over and over again, no matter how much Seohae tries to stop Taesul from opening the stupid suitcase that starts everything, he always opens it, it's useless, they're in a time loop. Each time he always creates the uploader, and each time the war happens, Seohae returns to stop him from being eliminated each time they always fail, and Seohae somehow leaves her diary telling her next self to do the same. It's an eternal loop. She's stuck being punished for carrying that weight, constantly relive that story over and over again, to try and save Taesul; her destination is always the start again. Like Sisyphus with the boulder.

The only thing is why does she not remember or why is she acting like she doesn't remember, because it's different versions of her, it's a paradox, she always goes to find her next self, and she leaves that diary starting this all over again, her next self has now instructions always telling her to find Taesul, to save him and when she's going to be eliminated. (her wedding probably). Each time she goes back to save Taesul, she falls in love with him, they get closer to the wedding, and she gets shot. For Taesul, we see that the wedding leads to him making an ultimate decision, remember Sisyphus evades D twice. Seohae does this all the time to escape D for her mum and Taesul.

Meanwhile, Taesul only does this to avoid it for Tae san, his brother. Who is the second person? It's Seohae. They're Sisyphus for each other, surprise, Seohae ends up becoming Sisyphus always to try to prevent Taesul's demise and the war, but Taesul has a choice on the wedding day to choose either Seohae's life, or the world, what do you think he chooses? That's why I think he continually invents the uploader because of her, to save her, more than anything else. He always chooses futilely to save her above the results of the war. In doing so, he always ends up being the one who gets eliminated, but she always ends up determined to prevent that situation.

Her dad was indeed right; she shouldn't meet with him; they both are in this repetitive loop, and the world is always a victim because of it. See how Sisyphus can try to be good and protective but still be seen as evil, a disaster, and a curse. So, in the end, both Seohae and Taesul are Sisyphus; both are punished every time. One by Taesul continually being caught and two by Seohae constantly losing her memories and forcing her self to repeat the journey again, to push that boulder over and over again. But with TKEM, we entered a timeline where change could happen after being stuck in an infinite loop forever, and that's interesting. With this show with how many times it seems Seohae has always written more instructions each time she travels, could we be in the timeline where things may become different?

Sisyphus; A chance to change the past futilely

It seems like it more things are being revealed to them, that might be new information, Jung apologising and realising his mistake in probably being the one who takes Seohae's life in the wedding because he thinks she's evil (lied to by ICB) might be a new occurrence in this new timeline. There's more information slowly being added each time we do this time loop; the question is, where are we now? As I said, I don't know the science or calculations needed to understand the time travel aspect of the show, but that is important.

So we have a star crossed romance that is being torn between the claws of D, two people punished continuously for just wanting to be with each other and putting the world at risk. We've seen what the results of Taesul's actions lead to; it leads to an apocalypse, a disaster and more; we've seen his stubbornness and determination not to let that stop him. All he wants is to evade D for his loved ones. But Seohae also becomes like that; she's also stubborn, also determined just like him to protect her loved ones despite both being advised not to do anything more, not to shake fate, not to mess around with time and life. Still, they never listen; they've put themselves in a time loop where they're being punished, and their punishment leads them again to do the same thing because of their desperate need to be together.

It's heartbreaking; however, there's a slight hope for a happy ending, one because this director does stories of couples torn apart by forces and things they can't control (Master's sun, Dr Strange etc...) being tied to each other's downfall and growth, being pulled away no matter how desperate they want each other. Their need to be with each other puts others at harm, but he always ends it in a happy ending. Sisyphus actually gets his goal a bit, not how he wants it, but he gets to live a long life with the woman he loves. However, it's after he lives that life; he goes back to being punished. So maybe this timeline Seohae may succeed and live the married life she wanted with Taesul (she does not know she loves him, she will fall for him repeatedly each time they do a loop, both of them always do); however, the sad truth is it was not her first version/authentic version that got to live that happy ever after, it might be this version though who knows? Either way, her original (her first-ever version, always suffered and had to be the one to push that eternal boulder with no end, she didn't get to see her ending) but this one or another future version may do. Taesul also has a chance to have a happy ending because even though his story ends with the first part of Sisyphus, Sisyphus finds a way to get out of the underworld and go back to his wife, so again it's like yeah, his first version did get punished, did get eliminated, failed, but this version or a future version may get a chance to spend that time with this Seohae.

Do you get me? It's not their original versions that get the happy ending, but it's still them that gets a chance to live old and have a happy life. So I'm hopeful, is what I'm trying to say. Thought that infinite loop of futility and failure to escape mistakes isn't a great sign. Let me know what you think about Sisyphus so far. Are you like me? Are you intrigued by this love story, and what are your theories? Let me know.

#sisyphus the myth #sisyphus #kdrama #sisyphus the myth kdrama #cwg #march #korean drama #park shin hye #cho seung woo

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the-wintershade · 4 years ago

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the difficulty of your own soul

pairing: loki x reader summary: a ball just happens to bring you two closer and the thought of really giving this a chance crosses your mind, but everything alters again when the past always inevitably catches up to you. wc: 4.0k+ genre: angsty, warmth, intensity, past trauma masterlist

for you anon, even though I couldn’t get it out sooner. thank you.

“What are the stakes?”

Your father’s angry cries shredded through the pounding rain, easily cutting through the battalions of water droplets falling through the sky, imploding against your skin.

“When will you learn that the life you have will always be at stake? Everytime you leave your house, everytime you walk away from a safehouse, get into the car, or walk down the street your life will always be in danger.” You could see the tightening of his lips, the frown of a snarl forming, the verbal insults ready to be unleashed in your direction.

Shivers coiled up and down your spine. Your hands were clenched tightly against your arms to try to huddle for warmth, staring up at your paternal figure like a coward.

That wasn’t completely the truth. You were an inferno coiled to spark, but pretending to be weaker than you really were always gave you an advantage. He taught you well, so well that he didn’t even notice his own daughter playing back the same hand he revealed just a few months ago.

The shaking was real. Your body temperature was dropping fast. Your clothes were nearly ice and your teeth almost cut your gums because of the clattering.

The situation was bad; the side sweep your father just gave you, worse.

You saw the dagger before you felt it against your neck; it was right about then that you suspected something was wrong. Even if he believed that you were lying, he wouldn’t threaten you to this degree.

This had to be preparation for something worse, whatever that could possibly be.

Metal slightly pierced your skin, a small tear opening for a small amount of blood to dribble out. You frowned, the cold tension in your body dissipating as adrenaline began to take over. “What are you doing?” The words were shaky, but you caught the bite at the back end. Still not ready to wave the white flag, not even close.

Then, he laughed. Laughed.

No, this was wrong. This was a training exercise, five laps around the garden in the rain, dagger throwing, archery, and then sparing. This was the final sequence.

You were still a teenager, he never pushed you this hard until you were well ahead, obviously capable of handling more advanced weaponry and techniques.

You were still too uncoordinated to hit targets in the rain. You couldn’t have been more than sixteen. Too young, too young for the reality of death quite yet.

“Something I should have done a long time ago. You’ve failed me, made me believe that you had potential.” Pain flashed across his features, as if he was about to regret his next decision, regret what he would have to do. If the knife gave you any indication, you knew you wouldn’t want to figure out what that was going to look like. “I cared about you, (name), but you’re not enough. I was so foolish to bring you here.”

He never sounded like that. Never sounded that soft except for once in your life. Your blood ran cold and you froze where you laid against the ground. “Dad, stop. Think for a second.”

“Give my own advice back to me, huh?” That’s not his, it was hers, a woman you wouldn’t meet until two years from now. He gazed at you with somber eyes and a heavy soul, a soul you stared right into. “Sorry, kiddo.”

And then you were six years old, chained against your will to his leg, wobbling along at his beck and call.

It was raining again, although when you remembered his hand in yours, walking you across the street, there were no chains involved. Lightning cracked but you stayed firm, assured that your dad would be there to protect you.

When you’d crossed the street, he’d stopped your progress, bending down to help tie your shoe. As he looked up, you’d smiled at him, in awe of your superhero dad. He’d smiled right back, those dark orbs a vacuum you frequently felt lost in.

You tried to shrug your leg to get free of the chain and for a second, just a moment, his face morphed into a monster, a creature with dripping black skin and totally black eyes that had no beginning or end.

He looked angry, so incredibly angry that you felt fear for the first time in being chained to this man, this foreigner.

And that’s when it all came together.

The intelligence in your six year old mind reminded you to smile and suddenly your father’s face morphed back into view. You placed a small hand against his check, maintaining your loving grin in the process and then you’d reverted back into your sixteen-year-old self, staring at the same monster.

The chains appeared just as they had before.

You kept that one hand — now remembering how this story ended — placed on his cheek. The knife lowered and the world around you began to swim with darkness. It didn’t frighten you, this was how it normally ended, and you kept your eyes steady on your father who began to change into ashes.

The chain around your leg disappeared and instead a red brand formed where it left, flashing the same red of your father’s dissipating form. He looked confused and concerned, turnt around on a rare occasion, but you willed him to look at you even as his face disintegrated into dust.

Then you sat, no emotional response, just emptily staring at the pile of red ashes in front of you, feeling them call to you, knowing that no matter where you went those chains were still going to be pulling the strings, burning the brand on your skin until you submitted.

No matter how hard you tried, no matter how hard you would attempt to be free of his chains, no matter how much you struggled to get rid of them, you would still be that little child, soaked in the rain, staring the devil in the eyes.

The eyes of your darling father.

…

“...have you?” You shake yourself out of the events of last night, ignoring the way your dream father’s black eyes felt like nothing, how empty they were, how devoid of anything human.

You weren’t paying enough attention to know what Fury just asked you. “Can you repeat the question?” You gazed at him, expectant, and aren’t surprised when you see irritation mirrored back at you.

“Something else more pressing at the moment, agent?” Fury props himself against the wall and crosses his arms, his long trench coat scuffing against the ground. You fight to stay present.

A smirk — similar to the ones a certain someone would pass off at you — captures your face and you look at the files again on the table, trying to play off how shaken up you are about the dream, the look of despair on your father’s face as he began to vanish, how guilty you felt that you couldn’t have done better. Been better.

Clearing your throat, you take another look. “So, the fake isn’t going to be there tonight?”

“Oh no,” He says matter-of-factly, tilting his chin up. “It’s going to be there, but the version that Loki’s seeing is going to be the fake.” He walks closer, propping his arms against the table while you start memorizing exits, ventilation vents and access points, and various security systems the building has. “Which brings us back to the same question: do you have his trust?”

You fight down the shot of anxiety flaring in your core. You could give him a version of the truth. To be honest, it’s not likely that he trusts you fully, even if at all, but he does trust the idea of you going to the event and you would bet money on his attendance.

There’s trust in the event and that’s where trust begins anyway, in the small things.

“I’m getting close.” You close your eyes as the rebuttal you were already expecting comes right at you.

Fury glares at you. “You’re telling me that we’re about to risk an asgardian superpower getting their hands on the tesseract and causing world destruction all on the fact that you’re ‘working on’ getting his trust? I don’t know about you, agent (last name), but that doesn’t give me full confidence.”

“He’s pretty fickle, hard to pin down.” You glance in Fury’s direction and meet his stare head-on, one of the first time’s you’ve done that this whole time. “But we have an understanding. I’d have no problem betting my entire savings on the fact that he's going to this event, and I’d be willing to bet that there’s no way he’s going to attempt a grab at the tesseract. You know why? I’ll be there and I’m his date. A SHIELD agent is his plus one for the evening. He knows that no matter what trust we have, it’s not strong enough for him to be able to get the tesseract and leave the building.

“I’m positive that this is just reconnaissance. He’s trying to figure out who has it, what their plans for it are, and how he might be able to acquire it. But it won’t be tonight.” You watch as Fury shifts, leaning back. You know you’re out of hot water when he looks down his nose at you.

“Okay, agent. I’ll buy the story. But the moment you even suspect that he’ll make a pass for it, buss a cap in his narrow behind.”

You smirk. “As always, Director.”

…

There was no way you were ever going to consider the possibility of shooting Loki. Not ever. And that idea should have probably scared you more than it did.

Because that meant that your interests were divided and if your father ever reinforced anything, it was the dangers of your soul and your mind being split. The soul guided the mind in all decisions, it was it’s determining force, it’s guiding will.

When your guiding-will laid anywhere outside of the parameters of your assignment, it was likely you would end up being killed.

And no matter how much that advice should have concerned you, it didn’t. Death didn’t really scare you. Not like before. Not like when you were just that little girl at sixteen.

Death tasted like freedom and the promise of freedom was enough.

…

You step out of your car, a slim heel glimmering against the lights of the party. Using the handlebar overhead for balance, you allow one slim heel to tap against the ground.

The anxiety within you pulses for a moment, but you keep the appearance of calm on your face, another half-truth. You were almost getting too good at those. Almost.

A man appeared next to you, offering his hand to help. “Good evening, miss. Welcome to Mr. Williamshire’s estate.”

You coyly smile and slip your hand into his, letting him steady you. “Thank you, sir.” You reply, kindness sweating your words. Your gaze lifts to the marble staircase you’ll need to walk up, anxiety churning again. It doesn’t look too daunting.

Your eyes wander for a second, looking at balconies, escape routes, the hedges near the windows, the drapery hanging off the side of the building. Fury warned you to stay on your toes, but your father’s training had already taught you that. Plus, if things go south, you’ll need a quick get away.

Pretending to steady your nerves, which is less of an act than you make it seem, you shift your face from anxious to calm. The man who came to help you falls for it. “Don’t worry, miss. Plenty make it up the stairs just fine. If you’d like, I can provide an escort for you.”

Laughing softly, partially for keeping up the charade, partially because there’s no way in hell you need an escort, you flash him the game winning smile. “Thank you, but I think I’ll manage.” You place your keys in his hand and slip him a $40 dollar tip. “Take good care of her for me.”

The man nods along, a professional smile on his face, and slips into your vehicle.

You grasp the bottom of your ballgown, pulling the material away from your legs as you make the flight of stairs. Your thoughts shift to the evening, wondering where you’re going to sit, if Loki’s even going to show up, and when the tesseract is going to be unveiled. A churning activates in your stomach and the tightness in your face isn’t fake.

Finally, you make the landing and stride in head held high, a small smile plastered on your face.

The landing is enormous and the building much more spacious than you gave it credit for. A double staircase would lead you down an open dance floor, a grand chandelier casts sparkles all over the room, and a band plays a melodious jazz tune. There’s entertainment rooms to your left and right, some containing cards, some billiards, and some assorted backroom deals shrouded in secrecy.

It makes sense for money this old to have the luxury of hosting a ball, but it still doesn’t fail to blow your mind. Perks of the job you suppose.

Deciding taking a seat would be best—it’s almost time for the ball to officially commence—you tread down the stairs, walking over to the tables set in the next room and search for your name. You find it, seated next to someone named Matthew Lexington, whoever the hell that is. Glad to be off your feet, you take a seat, letting yourself rest and reset, taking in the details of the room, the number of couples, the susceptibility of someone being another agent.

The time passes slowly for a few minutes and the nagging anxiety of Loki failing to show up keeps gnawing at your core. You try to let it go.

Then, the chair next to you moves.

You force yourself to keep your head still, letting the person sit down without an oogiling pair of eyes staring them down.

“Worried I’d stand you up?” A silky voice says right next to you. You roll your eyes almost immediately.

“Matthew Lexington, really?” You spare a glance at him and realize you probably shouldn’t have, he looks dashing. His dark suit makes his eyes stand out more.

He gets a better look at your dress at the same time you look at his suit. “I didn’t think you were the glitter type.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Hmm.” He nods his head, softly smiling. “It suits you.”

You nod and give a smirk, looking at him through your eyelashes. Are you still acting? “As does your suit, though I admit a pocket square would have tied the whole look together.”

“Oh-ho.” He laughs and puts his hands up in the air. “Do I hear critique, and right after I completed how you look in the dress?”

“We can’t all be perfect, Mr. Lexington.” You take a sip of the water in front of you and shoot your eyebrows up in a teasing smirk.

He glances away from you, chuckling to himself slightly. “I admit, I was starting to get nervous when you took a little while to show up.”

“Fashionably late a new phrase for you?”

“Absolutely not, but I assumed with your job that you’d be someone that values punctuality.”

“Before I had this job, I was a regular woman. I knew the tricks of the trade like the back of my hand. Being fashionably late is practically a rule.”

“Fair point.” He spares a glance around, watching as people come in to take their seats.

“When’d you see me?”

“When you first came in.” His eyes are still moving for a second before they land on you again. “I was in a sideroom, trying my hand at blackjack when you made it up the staircase to the landing.”

“Hmm.” You nod, trying to search for another thing to talk about to keep you distracted from his eyes. “So, where’d Matthew Lexington come from?”

“Oh, just an alias from a few years ago.” He sips his water, putting his elbows on the table. How improper. “It comes in handy quite often.”

“Ah. I assumed you used it to help with the seating arrangement.”

“What?” He says in fake shock. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You think I’d actually believe that this was a coninsciendence.”

“How about a happy surprise?”

“Whatever.” You chuckle and notice a mass exodus from the dance floor to the banquet area you’re in right now. “Looks like the show’s about to start.”

“It would seem you’re right in that, miss (last name).” A tingle shoots down your spine involuntarily.

…

The opening remarks are...cute. That’s all you’d really give it. It was really one of the driest things you’ve heard in a while, but you tried to act interested. Really, you’re buzzing, swimming with electricity.

And it all, unfortunately, has something to do with the special someone sitting to your right.

You readjust for the second time. If you sit like this any longer your butt is going to fall asleep. Loki smirks in your direction, his eyes sparkle and darken. Uncomfortable, he mouths, an eyebrow shot up in the air.

You glare back in reply, sliding your eyes back to the speaker as they make their final remarks. Loki’s small chuckle colors the dark beside you.

As the speaker closes, you both politely clap and you stifle a yawn.

The guests stand with stiff legs and bones pop and crack. Men offer their hands out to their ladies guiding them out to the dance floor. The couples that were seated with you at your table stand.

“Well, I think we’re going for drinks, care to join us?” The woman remarks turning to stare at you and L-Matthew. You press your lips together in a small smile. “I think I’ll stay here as a lookout,” you chuckle to yourself, a mere gesture of politeness, “but I appreciate the offer.”

She nods in acknowledgement and looks expectantly to Loki. “Oh, no, thank you. I’m with the lady.” You feel his gaze hover to your back for a second before looking at the woman in front of you.

She smirks knowingly, as if aware of some inside joke or secret. “It was lovely meeting you two.”

“Same to you.” You sincerely reply.

You nod good-bye to each other and watch as her and her husband walk away. Stifling this next yawn takes effort.

“Not enough rest, huh? That nervous to see me?”

“Oh, please. Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Lexington.”

A small smile flutters across his face before his signature grin takes over. “So, Ms. (last name), what’s on the agenda tonight, yawning notwithstanding.”

“You know, Mr. Lexington, I think I’m going to have a chat with some old friends of mine.” You up your pitch and darken your tone, as if you were old royalty.

Loki’s stance changes a bit as if he were expecting something different. His eyes flutter to the dance floor for a second before looking directly at you.

“If you would like to make your way to the dance floor, by all means, Mr. Lexington, don’t allow me to stop you.”

“Oh no, I’m the abandoned lover, remember? My charm rests in my ability to play my part well. I’d be able to pick up a partner in no time.”

Lover, huh? The thought of you being his...significant other...flashes in your mind for a second, just one. You could almost see it, almost see the smiles, the banter, his pearly teeth smoothing into a grin, the way your eyes change when you look at him.

No. You’re stronger than this. You’re stronger than your emotions.

You’re stronger than him. Are you?

“If I were to assume that I were your long lost lover in this situation, was my judgement wrong?”

Something shifted in him as if he’d just registered what you’d said. As if he could see the same thing you just saw a second ago. He looked at you coyly with less edge than you were used to. “That would be,” he swallowed for a second before the smile returned. “Correct, Ms. (last name).”

“Well, if you hadn’t noticed Mr. Lexington, we’ve been speaking all of this time.”

“Yes, that’s an accurate observation.”

“So, how would you describe your current predicament to future partners?”

“Easy. You’re cheating.”

“Ah,” You nod along. Always like him to make something out of nothing. “Of course. It only makes sense.”

“See,” he nudged you softly on your shoulder. “You’re catching up just fine.”

Your breath hitched for a second and the playful smile on your face drooped. His body heat began transferring through the thin sleeves of your dress and you’re very aware of how close you two are. It takes a strong amount of mental effort to stay calm and remember who you are.

“I try.” You utter but it lacks the confidence you had just a moment ago.

The air around you two changes for a moment, much more serious and intimate than just a moment prior.

The both of you stand, together, shoulders pressed against each other, the closest you’ve been in days. You allow yourself two breaths, enough to savour the moment, enough to get a taste of what this could really be like, and then you step away, clearing your throat.

When you turn to Loki, his face holds a combination of deep regret that you’ve never seen before. “Well, I must attend to my friends. I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Mr. Lexington?”

“Ye-Yes.” He nods but he’s distracted. “Of course, my lady.” His smirk is dull, fleeting. You want to ask more, but he’s already moving away from you. You accept his departure as your cue to make your way over to Stark’s Investor.

…

Stark’s investor is nice enough, gladly extending the invitation to allow you to view the tesseract. This was already pre-arranged so their offer comes as no shock to you. What does come as a shock is the amount of times you and Loki have made eye-contact from across the room.

You knew he was watching you — you’d recognize the sense of those darkly beguiling eyes pressing into your back anywhere — but you didn’t expect to want to watch him. It was like your eyes were drawn to each other, listening to your own respective party for mere seconds before your eyes met like lightning, like magnets.

It was exhausting for you, because manning a conversation while distracted is already hard enough, but staring at him and not getting lost was a whole different ordeal. Worrying about him was new too.

Even worse, how was this all going to play out when you were supposed to be in the same room, viewing the tesseract at the same time. Would you even address the staring, would you just ignore it, would you try to establish something deeper out of this. The options were too diverse to understand now.

Your eyes meet again and a tingle rushes down your spine, a heat jolting through you. He stares more directly this time, refusing to look away. You turn for a second to look at the investor and then back to him whose eyes never moved. You see his lips curving into a smirk. What a dork. You’re just about to stick out your tongue — how unlady like — in return before you spot a figure just behind him.

A figure that you’d hoped you’d never see again.

Not in this lifetime or the next.

What gives her away is the red hair, always the red hair twisted into curls that runs down her back.

And then it’s the way she walks, sauntering with a confident arrogance.

Your blood hasn’t run this cold in a while. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Loki pivot to spot what you’re seeing.

By the time he looks back, you’ve excused yourself from the Stark industries investor and are already making your way toward the door.

…

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