#but above is easier to comprehend i guess

[msue0027]

let's talk about Charles i-want-to-snog-a-man-on-a-killing-spree Xavier

[megtrns]

Maybe mtmte Megatron juggling with his feelings for a human liaison? going from indifference, maybe even an ounce of repulsion to a strong attraction, lust, not really knowing where to place all of that baggage he's got.

hi anon, thank you for requesting ! i might have gotten carried away but i hope this lives up to your expectations <3 feel free to request another if it doesn't ( i don't usually turn down the chance to write about my favourite character hihi)

time will tell. megatron / gn!reader. sfw! one-shot angst. pinning. the usual dilemma.

i. You and Megatron have crossed paths three different times. The first time you could barely see through the smoke crowding from all sides, caught in the crossfire between two giant robots desecrating your city. With one foot trapped under the rubble, all you could do was helplessly stare, unable to comprehend the number of fallen buildings swallowed by the fire. There was so much noise in the distance — the blaring of car alarms, the crying of children, the screaming and shouting, all causing the ringing in your ears to grow louder. But the world fell silent the moment he emerged from the chaos, gunmetal grey and towering above you.

You wondered if it was the shock or the fear that caused you to hallucinate his eyes: red like rubies under the midday sun, narrowing at you in disgust. Surviving that was difficult, living past it was even harder. But the world continued to spin and forgetting became easier. You would have never guessed that your first, brief encounter with him was just the catalyst; the first domino to fall, leading you straight back to him.

ii. The second time you met was aboard the Lost Light. Once you've reported to the bridge to formally introduce yourself to your captain, Rodimus was somewhat apologetic (if not embarrassed) that his second in command wasn't there to greet their first and newest human liaison. Wanting to make a good first impression, you had volunteered to look for him yourself. Having been spontaneously relieved from your previous duty above the Vitalis, you had wondered what your new co-captain would look like. With Thunderclash's deteriorating health, you didn't want to burden anyone with your departure, so you quietly left for the nearby space station to await your transfer. For months you were in the dark, with little if not outdated information on your new crew.

So when you stood outside the habsuite of your co-captain to see him, the world suddenly stopped spinning — time melting to bring back the smell of smoke and ash.

Yet you stood your ground, hands curled into a fist inside your coat, wondering if your face had given your fear away. But Megatron made no move to spare you a glance — acting as if he hadn't seen you — before retreating to his room and away from the light. The second the doors clicked shut, your knees instantly gave in.

And as you were sliding down the wall with your head between your hands to steady your breathing, you didn't notice that he saw everything through the little window of his doorway.

iii. While most of the crew took an immediate liking to you, the same couldn't be said about everyone. It was months after your arrival and Megatron has yet to speak to you. Anything of importance between the two of you was relayed back and forth through Rodimus, and you were getting tired of his complaints on being treated as a makeshift fax machine. So you had cornered the former warlord one night, having waited in front of his room for hours. With a steady gaze, you had mustered all the courage to ask him if he hated you.

" Hate you?" Megatron frowned, the mask of indifference cracking for the first time to give way to annoyance, " I don't even think about you."

Gaping with your mouth open like a fish, you marched down to Swerves for the strongest human drink the minibot had to offer, using the liquor to wash down the shame.

iv. The next few months were grueling, not only for the both of you but for the entire crew. Whenever you and Megatron were in the same room, an argument was bound to explode. Brainstorm once said you two were more volatile than any chemical he's ever tampered with, and that was saying something. Back and forth, you'd both fight for the last word, sometimes over things that didn't even make sense, as if you were both just trying to test each other's limits. You reasoned to your fellow crew members that you and Megatron are just like two magnets that repel.

But what is hate if not attraction ? Every time you cross the room to pick a fight with him, that was a pull. And every time he reciprocates, that was another pull. And when Rung told you that maybe this was the closest thing to your company that Megatron would ever let himself indulge in, everything started to click into place.

This had nothing to do with pride — it was remorse.

With the new knowledge in mind, you interrupted him mid-fight to yell that you forgive him. That even if you weren't sure if you've meant it, you forgive him.

Taken aback, the expression on Megatron's face was unreadable.

" I'm done pretending that I hate you. I don't. Not anymore."

Just like that, the ice began to thaw. Sure, there were a few awkward moments where Megatron was unsure of how to act towards a person whose race he wanted to destroy only less than a decade ago. But in the privacy of your office and away from prying optics, the past became a distant, faraway thing. Instead of looking down at you from his height, he'd be the one to displace his mass to enter your space; a silent permission to start over.

An invitation you gladly accepted.

v. Your conversations were usually philosophical, if not sometimes intimate: a hesitant yet growing disclosure of vulnerability from both sides, making the effort even sweeter.

And slowly but surely, you start to feel it all over again: the rush, the headiness, the nerves. But this time it wasn't fear, or loathing, or anger. It was something new and secret, waiting to come alive whenever he sits close to you. And you sense it from him too : all the not-so-subtle staring, the brushing of his servos against your fingers, the faint ripple of his emf field ghosting against your skin with want.

Here, with nothing but the stars outside, still and unblinking, you met Megatron for the third time : yearning and unapolagetic, already pulling you on his lap to gently catch your mouth between his dermas.

He tells you he's tired of running, of repenting and regretting when he can choose to give you what you deserve; weak in denying you. He lays you on the couch to delicately raise the bare, curve of your leg, stroking the scar that marked your skin.

You gave him a gallic shrug. " That was a long time ago."

" And what of now?" He asked, kissing the scar softly. " Now is another time. Far away from yesterday and the days before." vi. You and Megatron have crossed paths three different times, once when he believed he could conquer time and later, when he was trapped as its prisoner. Now, you meet him for a third time — when you're kissing him free with the promise to begin again.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 3

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

The Regent’s forces were rivers of darker red, driving inroads into their lines, mingling their armies together, like a stream of blood hitting water, then diffusing.

He killed, and it was simply that men got out of his way, or were dead.

He had grown used to something that had been temporary, like the flash of exhilaration in a pair of blue eyes for a moment catching his own. All of that tangled together inside him, and tightened, through the killing, into a single hard knot.

something about the way this is written just hits me in the abandonment issues

‘If the Prince of Vere shows himself, I will kill him.’ Nikandros half spat the words.

nik private twitter venting moment #2

The ground was wet, his legs were mud-spattered above his knees—mud in dry summer, because the ground was blood.

i don’t know man i feel like after a point you have to just be like. hey. why are we doing this again? like yeah i get that fighting in a military force can be for A Cause but unless you’re directly involved in enacting ideological change, aren’t you basically just cannon fodder

On the far side of the field, he saw the flash of embroidered red. That is how Akielons win wars, isn’t it? Why fight the whole army, when you can just—

i’m guessing the part in italics in a previous laurent line, about damen killing auguste at marlas?

He used the little name that Damen had been called as a boy; the childhood name, reserved for intimates.

the fact that is was kastor specifically asking the veretians to call him that…

Damen realised that he was on his knees, his own chest heaving like the chest of his horse.

laurent’s horse will be glad to know that damen’s horse lived. because, as we all know, they’re in love

‘Over?’ The word grated out of him. All he could think was that if the Regent still lived, nothing was over.

it is interesting how, even when he thinks laurent screwed him over (see previous chapter), damen has this uncontrollable rage towards the regent rather than laurent. i think this has more to do with the regent killing his men and trying invade his country, though. and maybe just that it’s easier to hate him than laurent. “regent = bad” is something that’s easy for damen to comprehend right now, while laurent’s whole thing is a lot more confusing and intimate

And with returning awareness, he saw as if for the first time the bodies of the men that he had killed to get to the Regent’s decoy, and beyond that, the evidence of what he had done. The field was a rutted earthworks strewn with the dead. The ground was a churned mess of flesh, ineffective armour and riderless horses. Killing ceaselessly, for hours, he had not been aware of the scale of it, of what he had caused to happen here. He saw flashes behind his eyelids, faces of the men he’d killed. Those left standing were all Akielon; and they stared at Damen as at something impossible.

damen holy shit… i guess that’s one way to reclaim your authority. and he didn’t even mean it as a sign of intimidation, he just wanted to get to the “regent.” who by the way was just some random guy RIP

‘Find the highest-ranked Veretian still living and tell them they have leave to bury their dead,’ said Damen. There was a fallen Akielon banner on the ground beside him. ‘Charcy is claimed for Akielos.’ As he rose, Damen wrapped his hand around its wooden pole and planted it in the earth.

not sure if calling it an akielion victory despite the combined forces is just customary, or intentionally out of spite. i’m leaning on the former, since it’s damen and not laurent we're talking about

The herald came cantering across the devastated landscape on a white, glossy mare with a curved neck and a high, flying tail. Beautiful and untouched, he made a mockery of the sacrifice of the brave men on the field. His banner streamed out behind him, and its blazon was Laurent’s starburst, in blue and shining gold.

here is an excerpt from a post i made while reading king’s rising for the first time:

“damen when he realizes he’s not in a slow burn romance with problematic beginnings, but a complex psychological thriller in which the smartest fictional character i have ever personally encountered has decided to make his life a living hell and also they’re in love with each other but the psychological thriller stuff is way more important to his bitchy blonde nightmare malewife and he is SO down bad and just has to deal with laurent’s mean girls 4d chess petty nonsense bc it’s enrichment for him and damen will kill anyone who gets in laurent’s way and he can’t even pick up the very very VERY clear implications of laurent’s trauma that would probably allow them to reach some kind of vulnerability equilibrium in their relationship”

on a re-read, i think this is a great time to dig into that a little more ;)

SO what i love about so much of laurent’s choices in the next few chapters is the fact that much of what he says and does is entirely petty. like, yes there’s always strategy and trauma and depth as usual, but i think it’s not denying him depth to say that he is 20 years old, this is his first love in the midst of an extremely stressful and messy situation, and despite his own wishes he cannot prevent his emotions from affecting his actions. laurent has had control over so much of the situation with damen thus far, both with the power dynamics between them as master and “slave” and the fact that damen didn’t know that laurent knew who he was. but now laurent knows that damen knows, so all of his previous and future actions are going to be under damen’s scrutiny in that context. they’re equals now, and the secrets reinforcing laurent’s prior cognitive dissonance have dissolved. that leaves laurent vulnerable (especially after being tortured and genuinely letting damen down even if by accident) and emotional compromised (he has no choice but to see damen as damianos, and with that comes all of the auguste baggage and the fact that they’ve already fallen in love and had sex under different circumstances).

all that is to say, the next few chapters are laurent’s mean girls era. he is, again, still being smart and strategic (4d chess), and his feelings are valid and his trauma is real. however, he is also just being MEAN, for the same reasons classic high school movie mean girls tend to be: he feels insecure and vulnerable about his romantic attachment to damen, stressed out by the insane amount of power he definitely should not have, and self-righteous about all the ways the world has conspired against him. regina george might have been the villain of the movie, but she was the hero of her own story. janis and cady methodically dismantled her life as a popular, powerful, and confident person. that’s why she got revenge with the burn book instead of looking inward and acknowledging her own issues, of which there were many. she had a machiavellian view of life, in which mean people always won, and so being mean in retaliation was how she could protect herself from being a victim.

that is laurent’s perspective too, for a lot of this series. we don’t know anything about regina’s backstory, or heather chandler’s (another great example), but we do know exactly why laurent has the worldview he does. he used to be sweet and it made him a victim. so he is mean to protect himself, even if that robs him of his sweetness. damen’s integrity and honor have challenged laurent’s worldview, though, and that has been the source of a lot of laurent’s slow reconsideration. but now that laurent can’t just pretend that damen isn't damianos, now that he has to accept this situation in its full interpersonal and political messiness, he isn’t nearly as inspired. laurent assumes, now that laurent has gone “mask off,” that damen will realize that laurent doesn’t deserve the love he has shown him in the past. because laurent has been mean to damen, by lying about his awareness even at the times damen thought he was being earnest and sweet. that makes damen a victim and fool—two things laurent deeply fears being, and therefore assumes everyone else also fears in themselves. two things the regent had wanted laurent to consider himself, by placing damen in his life in the first place.

therefore, in his insecurity and vulnerability and anger, as a 20 year old just experiencing his first love, as someone with a lot of power and stress who cannot waste time or energy on genuinely confronting his own flaws in good faith, laurent is gearing up to be sososososo mean to damen specifically in the next few chapters. like comedically mean. aimlessly mean. pathetically mean. on purpose. ultimately, if he must be alone (which he obviously must, says laurent's brain), laurent would rather be the villain of someone else’s story than a victim in his own. that, at least, is similar to book 1 laurent—but while he was a cat playing with a mouse in book 1, in a position to do serious damage to his opponent, now he’s more like…. a cat, slapping another cat. evenly matched, but still throwing hands. transparently insecure and pathetic, only effective in doing emotional damage in ways he doesn’t intend. damen isn’t hurt by the petty things laurent says and does, because he sees through them for what they are. he’s hurt because laurent sees them as necessary to protect himself and keep his distance, when all damen wants is to make things okay between them. which laurent would never expect, because he assumes that damen wants nothing to do with him, and would be happier and better off if they stayed apart.

basically: unstoppable force (damen's persistent caring) meets unmovable object (laurent's refusal to be genuinely cared for). the only way for this cycle to end is for damen to choose to stop, or for laurent to choose to yield. laurent will eventually make that choice, but he still has to be a huge bitch about it first. he's going to lash out at damen and challenge him to stop caring, but ultimately fail—both because damen is just built different, and because he's lowkey written as a fantasy partner for emotionally volatile people with attachment and abandonment issues.

rest assured, laurent’s genre is still psychological thriller, but it’s also now a high school drama movie. and damen is about to get a bitter taste of that, with pretty much no choice in the matter. this poor man will have to deal with laurent’s bitchy theatrics as they try to co-parent an army, and he’s already too emotionally invested and aware of laurent’s habit of lashing out when he’s in pain to genuinely fight back.

this could also be called laurent’s s1 catra era, but i’m not sure what the venn diagram of capri and she ra enjoyers looks like. to those who get it—laurent is doing what catra did at princess prom for the next several chapters, down to the “hey adora” = “hello lover.” this dynamic is very fun to read because it doesn’t overstay its welcome. it’s different from laurent in book 1, or catra in general, because it’s so clearly pathetic, damen and laurent are on the same side of the war, and damen could technically make it stop at any point. so i think it’s very very fun, while it lasts >:)

The herald reined in in front of him. Damen looked at the mare’s shiny coat, not dirt-covered, not heaving or darkened with sweat, and then at the herald’s livery, in immaculate condition, unflecked by the dust of the road. He felt it rising at the back of his throat. ‘Where is he?’

damen showed up to the prom laurent planned with him to unite their rival high schools, only to find himself dateless and laurent’s promised fancy party decorations missing. this is the moment where damen checks snapchat (i was in high school from 2013-2017) and sees everyone from vere high at their own immaculately-decorated prom, where laurent is being crowned king. little does damen know, laurent was blindsided by the vere-only prom and forced via social pressure to be there since everyone elected him prom king. they’re mad at each other for a high school drama pacing-typical period of time, and then make up when they realize the misunderstanding and reassert their dedication to each other.

laurent did still murder someone with a chair, though. but like a metal folding chair from the band room

The herald’s back hit the ground. Damen had dragged him bodily from his horse into the dirt, where he lay dazed and winded, with Damen’s knee in his stomach. Damen’s hand was around his neck.

His grip tightened before it opened enough to allow the herald to speak. The herald rolled onto his side and coughed as Damen released him. He pulled something from inside his jacket. Parchment, with two lines on it. You have Charcy. I have Fortaine. He stared at the words, written in familiar, unmistakable handwriting. I’ll receive you at my fort.

lamen hr complaint #5 (unnamed herald): ragdolling this guy over what should be impersonal, professional correspondence

also, because i can't help myself:

Fortaine eclipsed even Ravenel, powerful and beautiful, its towers high-flung, its jutting crenelles biting the sky. It rose to a sheer, impossible height and, from every vantage, it was flying Laurent’s banners. The pennants seemed to float on the air effortlessly, patterned silk in blue and gold.

WELCOME HOME, BROTHER KILLER

Rows upon rows of peaked, coloured tents were pitched on the field outside Fortaine’s walls, the sun lighting the pavilions, the banners, and the silks of a graceful encampment. It was a city of tents, and it camped a fresh, intact force of Laurent’s men, who had not fought and died through the morning. The constructed arrogance of the display was intentional. It said, exquisitely: Did you exert yourself at Charcy? I have been here examining my nails.

this is funny and i wouldn’t put it past laurent, but also i’m not sure if he like. really meant this part of it specifically to piss damen off. he was just tortured idk he probably just wanted things nice. a good part of the fun of lamen divorce era is remembering that damen’s interpretation of events isn’t necessarily accurate, and that it’s hilarious how he interprets things as petty personal slights even when they might not be. they’re both so obsessed with each other and it’s great

Nikandros reined in alongside him. ‘Uncle and nephew are alike. They send other men to do their fighting for them.’

nik tweets this verbatim on priv (#3)

Damen was silent. What he felt in his chest was a hardness like anger. He looked at the elegant silken city and thought about men dying on the field at Charcy.

but not exactly anger—betrayal? heartache? self-consciousness?

Some kind of herald’s greeting party was riding towards them. He gripped the Regent’s bloody, torn banner in his hand.

the phrase “greeting party” just made me imagine them rolling up with like confetti and a speaker blasting the celebration song. while damen holds the bloody torn banner

‘Just me,’ said Damen, and put his heels into his horse. About halfway across the field, he was met by the herald, who arrived with an anxious party of four attendants saying something urgent about protocol. Damen listened to four words of it. ‘Don’t worry,’ said Damen. ‘He’s expecting me.’

lamen hr complaint #6 (more unnamed heralds): disregarding protocol

(also “he’s expecting me” girlllll)

Without even pulling off his gauntlets, he strode to the tent. He knew its high scalloped folds; he knew the starburst pennant. No one stopped him. Not even when he reached the tent and dismissed the soldier at the entrance with a single order: ‘Go.’ He didn’t bother to see if his order was obeyed. The soldier let him through: of course he did; this had all been planned. Laurent was ready for him whether he came docilely behind the herald or, as he did now, the dirt and the sweat of the battle still on him, blood dried in the places where a cursory swipe with a cloth had not reached it. He swept the tent flap back with an arm, and stepped inside.

again i do have to question, beyond the drama, how much of this is as intentional and petty as damen thinks it is. like, the heralds literally cite protocol, damen knows this is the correct way for a camp to be run. i think he is assuming a lot here, although it’s reasonable to do so. we have seen in the past that damen assumes things of laurent that laurent is just like, “uh. not everything i do is on purpose” about, or damen is just WRONG about. i just wonder if damen’s approach here confirms things laurent was worried about (damen thinking poorly of him now that they’re on even ground), further fueling the fire of his rejection-sensitive bitchiness. not that it’s an excuse, or even undeserved, but it’s good to remember that there are two sides to the story.

like to damen, this is an angry post-battle rush of a moment to confront laurent and speak his truth (he doesn’t know laurent knows who he is), but to laurent this is like. post-torture and escape, and basically being thrown into the deep end of vulnerability with damianos and what this all implies to auguste’s memory. we’re not getting the best or most rational version of either of them right now, which is great for the drama but also makes the narration less reliable

This was the place Laurent had chosen.

right. damen thinks laurent chose this place to hear the truth about him, because the “you have charcy” note implies that at some point laurent probably figured out that damen is damianos. therefore laurent chose this occasion for them to meet each other, as they truly are by birth, for the first time. damen just doesn’t know the twist that laurent has always known who he’s been, and has chosen everything else before now with that knowledge too

There were a few furnishings, low seats, cushions, and in the background a trestle table hung with its own coverings, and set with shallow bowls of sugared pears and oranges. As though they were going to nibble at sweetmeats.

the same guy who ordered the “sorry you were given a severed head and discovered a suicide” fruit basket in prince’s gambit had to order a “sorry i gaslighted you for 2 books but not really because you also technically gaslighted me” fruit basket in kings rising

He lifted his gaze from the table to the exquisitely attired figure leaned with a single shoulder against the tent pole, watching him.

lucky number laurent lean #13!

Laurent said, ‘Hello, lover.’

It was not going to be simple.

this being the follow-up line to “hello lover” is such a good combination of funny and tension-building. like laurent’s cunty tableau immediately put out damen’s fiery righteous indignation and now he’s just like “oh this is going to suck.”

He made himself breathe through that. ‘Your men think you’re a coward. Nikandros thinks that you deceived us. That you sent us to Charcy, and left us there to die by your uncle’s sword.’ ‘And is that what you think?’ said Laurent. ‘No.’ Damen said, ‘Nikandros doesn’t know you.’

this is really a testament to pacat’s cleverness, how in chapter 1 there are a lot of moments where it’s almost like damen is directly saying he thinks laurent screwed him over—nikandros and the herald saying it and him not disagreeing, him accepting the reality that laurent is not going to show up—but he never does truly say that he thinks the abandonment was on purpose. because he didn’t, and he doesn’t, which makes sense. but he’s still angry and confused and also just concerned about how laurent is taking the “news” that he’s damianos. how much of damen’s anger about laurent’s composed appearance is projection of his anxiety about laurent seeing him as he truly is, a powerful authority figure in his own right who just won a battle against insane odds?

it’s so ambiguously written that it’s almost like pacat WANTS us to spiral. which i did, and will probably continue to do, so well-played. these books are like evil catnip to anxious overthinking theater people with attachment issues and an interest in understanding complex fictional situations to cope with the fact that real life never makes enough sense. also kinky gays but let's be real that's just a trojan horse for the other stuff

‘And you do.’ Damen looked at the arrangement of Laurent’s weight, the careful way he was holding his body. Laurent’s left hand was still casually resting against the tent pole. Deliberately, he stepped forward, and clasped Laurent’s right shoulder. Nothing, for a moment. Damen tightened his grip, and ground in with his thumb. Harder. He watched Laurent turn ashen. Finally, Laurent said, ‘Stop.’

proving that he knows laurent well enough to pick up from his posture alone exactly where he’s been injured. also they’re both so messy, like let’s put pressure on each other’s literal and figurative wounds instead of just talking about our misconceptions and feelings, awesome

He let go. Laurent had wrenched back and was clutching his shoulder, where the blue of his doublet had darkened. Blood, welling up from some newly bandaged, subterranean place, and Laurent was staring at him, his eyes oddly wide. ‘You wouldn’t break an oath,’ said Damen, past the feeling in his chest. ‘Even to me.’

damen proving to himself, and proving to laurent, that he knows that laurent didn’t screw him over, and instead was injured and failed to show up. laurent is shocked by how quickly damen picked up on this. also ow

He had to force himself back.

he doesn’t want to see laurent in pain, or know that he’s causing it :( which is especially unfortunate given the conversation they’re about to have about damen murdering laurent’s brother

Laurent didn’t answer. He still had a hand clutched to his shoulder, his fingers sticky with blood. Laurent said, ‘Even to you?’

“you wouldn’t break an oath, even to me” (“even to me” being a sort of freudian slip, meaning “i killed your brother, and i’ve known that this whole time and i haven’t told you, and you have a good reason to hate me for that”) “even to you?” (to damen’s incomplete understanding: “well i know who you are now, and if i’d known before i would have broken every oath to you i’ve ever made”)

He made himself look at Laurent. The truth was an awful presence in his chest.

babygirl it’s about to get so much awfuller

He thought of the single night they had spent together. He thought of Laurent, giving himself, dark-eyed and vulnerable, and of the Regent, who knew how to break a man.

damen totally sees laurent as his “victim” right now, set up well by him re-opening laurent’s physical wound. damen fucked this man while knowing that he (damen) killed his (laurent’s) brother, and put trust in him. if they were normal, or this was a normal story, that’s where the confrontation would end. it would be that simple—damen didn’t mean to hurt laurent but still did, and laurent has to forgive him for that, and forgive himself for being fooled—and then it would get tearfully resolved because they love each other so much that it doesn't matter. but they are not normal, and this is not a normal story, so…

Outside, two armies were poised to fight. The moment was here, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He remembered the Regent’s constant suggestion: Bed my nephew. He had done that, wooed him, won him. Charcy, he saw, hadn’t mattered to the Regent. It hadn’t meant anything. The Regent’s real weapon against Laurent had always been Damen himself.

damen thinks the regent’s plan had been to weaken laurent by putting him in circumstances where he’d unknowingly make himself vulnerable with his brother’s killer, triggering him emotionally and destroying his judgment. i'm pretty sure that this was basically his intention, but had also made sure that it would also torture laurent even if he did recognize damen on the spot.

personally i think the regent knew that laurent knew in book 1 through observing his reaction, but had planned for both possibilities in advance. what he hadn't expected, though, was for laurent and damen to start genuinely working together instead of against each other. this happens early as the thing with patras, and really pops off during the botched assassination attempt.

charcy was meant to drive a wedge between them, to correct the regent's previous miscalculation. and given the inevitable truth damen must now reveal, there's nothing he can really do to stop laurent from being upset.

‘I’ve come to tell you who I am.’ Laurent was so keenly familiar, the shade of his hair, the strapped down clothing, the full lips that he held tense or cruelly repressed, the ruthless asceticism, the unbearable blue eyes. ‘I know who you are, Damianos,’ said Laurent. Damen heard it, as the interior of the tent seemed to change, so that all of the objects in it took on a different shape. ‘Did you think,’ said Laurent, ‘I wouldn’t recognise the man who killed my brother?’

the way i YELLED during my first read. i remember even like posting something before, like “oh my god damen just tell him put this poor man out of his misery,” and then after i got to this part i immediately went and deleted that post

Each word was an ice chip. Painful, sharp; a shard. Laurent’s voice was perfectly steady.

do you think he practiced this?

‘I knew in the palace, when they dragged you in front of me,’ said Laurent. The words continued, steady, relentless. ‘I knew in the baths when I ordered you flayed. I knew—’

he definitely practiced this

‘At Ravenel?’ said Damen.

“you knew when you kissed me and let me fuck you????”

‘If you knew,’ said Damen, ‘how could you—’ ‘Let you fuck me?’ His own chest hurt, so that he almost didn’t notice the signs of it in Laurent, the control, the face, pale at any time, now white.

he almost didn’t notice the signs, which means he still totally did. because even now, damen is attentive and caring towards laurent

‘I needed a victory at Charcy. You provided it. It was worth enduring,’ Laurent spoke the terrible, lucid words, ‘your fumbling attentions for that.’

LIARRRRRRR

It hurt so much it took the breath from his throat. ‘You’re lying.’ Damen’s heart was pounding. ‘You’re lying.’ The words were too loud. ‘You thought I was leaving. You practically threw me out.’ He said it, as the realisation blossomed inside him. ‘You knew who I was. You knew who I was the night we made love.’

tbh i think this kind of realization would make me have a panic attack on the spot. also do you think this is the kind of betrayal he’s been trying so hard to avoiding confronting, coming from kastor and jokaste? but here he has no choice to confront it, because laurent is forcing him to understand the depths of the deception. no avoiding it now

He thought of Laurent surrendering, not the first time, but the second, the slower, sweeter time, the tension in him, the way he had— ‘You weren’t making love to a slave, you were making love to me.’

very true, but laurent isn’t ready to deal with it. he can’t keep up the cognitive dissonance in the present, but that doesn’t mean he’s about to accept that it was real in the past. instead he’ll just lash out.

And he couldn’t think that through clearly but he could catch a glimmer of it, a glimmer of the edge of it. ‘I thought you wouldn’t, I thought you’d never—’

OF COURSE damen suspected, at some points, that laurent knew. but this tells us that he’d ultimately dismissed the notion because it would have been insane for laurent to kiss and fuck him, while knowing his real identity. “i thought you wouldn’t, i thought you’d never—“

this is similar to how i thought about it during my first read—i suspected for all of book 1, and some of book 2, but then figured that the story was taking a different direction because how the hell could the plot points of “laurent knows who damen is” and “laurent makes himself vulnerable to damen and does a romance/sex about it” possibly be compatible? laurent, a deeply traumatized and self-protective person, wouldn’t and would never. except i underestimated laurent’s capacity for self-delusion, and overestimated the amount of control he truly has over his emotions and impulses, beneath all the posturing. damen, here, is recognizing that he’s made similar miscalculations, and now he’s seeing laurent as he truly is. they’re both seeing each other, truly, for the first time.

‘Laurent, six years ago, when I fought Auguste, I—’ ‘Don’t you say his name.’ The words were forced out of Laurent. ‘Don’t you ever say his name, you killed my brother.’

i like the simplicity of this. just the plainness of “you killed my brother.” laurent’s language is so often clever and cagey and embellished, but that last sentiment is raw and informal, and what we the reader are probably screaming in our heads. because yeah, holy shit, damen killed laurent’s brother. it’s a pretty hard thing to argue against, or ignore. “you lied to me” “you killed my brother” “you flogged me” “you killed my brother” “you forgot to do the dishes” “you killed my brother”

Laurent was breathing shallowly, almost panting as he spoke, his hands rigid on the edge of the table behind him.

his practiced words are saying one thing, but his body is very obviously having a panic attack. this scene isn’t nearly as much of a laurent mean girl moment as it seemed during a rushed first read. that’s actually kind of a relief to me, bc it made me sad to interpret him as so heartless and unfazed the first time around. even if “hello lover” is an iconic moment, it’s a performance more than anything else. and pacat shows us this sooner than i recalled or first perceived. she’s not torturing us, the reader, as much as she’s torturing both damen and laurent. and it’s not even like a lazy misunderstanding kind of torture, this is genuinely complicated and they’re both in the wrong and they both are justified in this pain and hurt. i just couldn’t see that as well the first time, having binged like all of book 2 already and having no idea what would happen next and honestly just being shocked and betrayed and compelled by the massive mislead with laurent’s awareness of the situation

‘Is that what you want to hear, that I knew who you were and I still let you fuck me, my brother’s killer, who cut him down like an animal on the field?’

you know he doesn’t, laurent, that’s just what you’re telling yourself now that you’re forced to confront it. you started this scene with “hello lover” and your prepared speech, hoping to destroy damen emotionally, but once again you’ve just kinda played yourself. maybe just cool it with the emotional gambits for now, when it comes to damen, bc they only really seem to come back and hurt you (oh fuck he can’t hear me)

‘Shall I ask you how you did it? What he looked like when your sword went in?’ ‘No,’ said Damen.

laurent, shaking, pale, looks like he’s about to pass out: “you bastard, tell me about how you murdered my brother as i think about the fact that i let you fuck me in a similar way, go ahead just make it hurt more”

damen, not a therapist but still emotionally intelligent enough to know this isn’t really about punishing him: no, i don’t think i will. can you like sit down

‘Or shall I tell you about the illusion of the man who gave me good counsel. Who stood by me. Who never lied to me.’ ‘I never lied to you.’

that italicized “i” is interesting. is it an accusation of laurent’s own lying and hypocrisy, or a specification that damen never directly told laurent he wasn’t damianos? given damen’s well-established integrity, i’m guessing it’s the first option. again with the mutual moral arbitration. and damen wouldn’t want to take such a weak a cop-out as “well i never technically said it,” it’s just not typical of his character.

The words were awful in the silence that followed them. ‘“Laurent, I am your slave”?’ said Laurent. He felt the breath forced out from his lungs.

of course laurent takes it as the second option, though, and implies that by swearing himself to laurent and then bedding him damen was directly lying about his identity. because to laurent, damen =/= damianos. a slave can’t be a prince. so damianos, the prince, must have been intentionally lying about being damen, the slave. and that’s actually easier, and less painful, and less complicated to accept than any kind of nuanced alternative.

‘Don’t,’ he said, ‘talk about it like—’ ‘Like?’ ‘Like it was cold-blooded; like I controlled it. Like we didn’t both close our eyes and pretend I was a slave.’ He made himself say the exposing words. ‘I was your slave.’

he’s right. nothing much to add here. damen wasn't just literally laurent's slave, he had devoted himself emotionally as well, and he's admitting it here despite the fact that it makes him vulnerable—something laurent is too much of a (traumatized, understandable) coward to do himself. i love damen's characterization so much

‘There was no slave,’ said Laurent. ‘He never existed. I don’t know what manner of man stands before me now. All I know is that I am facing him for the first time.’ ‘He is here.’ His flesh ached as if he had been prised open. ‘We are the same.’

this gives us some insight to laurent’s actions in book 1—not necessarily excusing them, but making them fit better into what we’ve since learned about his moral code. it ties things together, which isn’t the same as making them simpler or easier to like. pacat is very very VERY good at establishing continuous moral ambiguity in her characters, and does not rush the slow burn of making ends meet. so when she does eventually begin to connect things, it’s satisfying, because it hasn’t been all been spelled out the whole time so readers don’t have to think for themselves. this, in reference to a lot of the series’s more problematic themes, is exactly why i think people end up seeing capri as apologism or glamorization. but by claiming that, i also think they’re exposing themselves as impatient, shallow, and (sorry) simply lazy.

but i don't just want to be reductive and uncharitable, because that would be shallow and lazy too. to be perfectly clear, i honestly can't blame people for disliking this series, and not being willing or able to have patience and understanding for its more problematic elements. this series is marketed as romance/erotica. it started as indulgent kink fic. it ended up evolving into its current state during its development—and i'm really glad it did, but that doesn't change the fact that so much of its marketing and premise imply certain things that it doesn't quite deliver. and if you look up the series today, as it's still being published years after its completion, it's still marketed in a way i find somewhat misleading. to the extent that when i picked it up, it was in an intentional attempt to expand my own horizons—i wanted to challenge myself with indulgent shameless problematic porn/romance, as opposed to the weak-ass "enemies" to lovers running rival bakeries gay romance novels with canva covers that haven't worked for me in the past. the logic was basically, "well, if i don't like romance on that side of the scale, maybe i'll like the opposite extreme, or at least learn more about what i don't like." and i did feel pretty challenged during book 1, to the point that for a while i only kept reading out of morbid curiosity and vague horniness rather than any genuine expectation of depth or satisfying storytelling. it was only around the assassination scene in book 1 that i started to see the book as something capable of more depth and intrigue than just like kinky debauchery, and it pretty much just snowballed from there. and as someone who frequently reads about these dark topics in other genres and contexts, i was familiar enough with the things happening on the page to at least stomach them and push foward.

however, if i was coming at the series from a different place—like if i loved cozy romance and had very little familiarity with reading about these topics—i can see the first book especially being very blindsiding and distressing, and not wanting to engage with it further. that's not laziness, it just means that the book wasn't for me.

and the nuance doesn't end there. one of the things i love most about this series is that, even if i was just looking for shameless slavekink porn and decidedly did not want to rise to the occasion of depth or thematic exploration, i would also walk away unsatisfied. because the truly problematic shit in these books is not shameless at all, and indulgence never comes without a cost. there are a few distasteful moments that make me roll my eyes, and the garden scene definitely prompts a Conversation—but as a whole, i think pacat is very aware of the moral implications of these themes. and i also think she's perfectly aware of the fact that many people get off on them.

this series almost feels like an accidental study of, like, the psychological implications of being a person compelled by dub-con and problematic kink, finding a sort of gratification in situations where those things ar kind of inevitable (like they are for damen in book 1). AND this is made even more complicated and brave by the fact that laurent is, very relevantly, a victim of serious sexual assault. like, as hot as some of the scenes in this book are, i really don't think it makes itself easy for people to just uncritically get themselves off to. it doesn't encourage shame, but it does encourage introspection. and a lot of people simply don't read erotica and romance to introspect. (couldn't be me though. if it isn't clear, i love the laurent of vere "having insane mindfucking sex fully clothed across the room" approach to eroticism).

i feel like it's actually kind of funny that i specifically got here, as a person who almost always reads books that force dark introspection, and assumed that this erotica/romance book would be mindless, but ended up with gestures vaguely instead. for me, coming across this series and realizing what it truly is was an incredibly happy accident. but for others, i completely understand how it could be the exact opposite, and it's not lazy or shallow to realize that you misunderstood what you were getting yourself into and step away.

what is lazy and shallow, though, is to either DNF and review based on those misconceptions, or keep reading simply to fuel your own disdain and discomfort. ultimately, i think that the true error of people who walk into capri wanting shameless porn or untroubling romance is the fact that they keep reading, even when it becomes clear that the book isn't doing that. and then they decide to evaluate the book based on expectations and standards that aren't the ones the author or fans have for the work itself. people seem to take out their anger towards the SUBJECTS of slavery or rape in fiction themselves on capri, rather then the way capri specifically portrays them. either because they fucking stopped reading the book and just wanted to go on a tangent on the topics in general, or hate-read to confirm their own pre-existing bias.

my point is, nobody has to read things that trigger or upset them, and it's okay to just pass on fictional stuff that makes you feel bad or frustrated. aspects of this series made me feel bad and frustrated, even on re-read, but i enjoy the intellectual and emotional exercise of exploring those feelings and better understanding the true meaning and purpose of the art. but there are certain topics in other works of fiction that i'm unwilling to explore, which would cause me to simply stop reading, and if asked for a review i'd just say that i'm not the right person to say. and there have been many times where i've continued reading a book, hoping it would change directions, and ended up just being like, "yeah, that wasn't for me," and moving on.

the exchange "there was no slave, he never existed" "here is here, we are the same" is almost a meta-commentary on the reception of the series as a whole. it would be dishonest to deny how this series started, and some of the themes and subjects it intentionally confronts. you can't say "there was no slave [kink], [it] never existed" because the narrative proceeded to be more of a commentary on kink rather than an uncritical display of it. kink, and dark topics in fiction in general, do all have depth, and while they might not be for everyone, they are for someone. exploring that depth is entirely optional, and i understand why people with certain experiences don't want anything to do with that exploration. but our personal tastes don't change the fact that subjects like slavery and rape exist, and that reality is inseparable from the stories that come from it. ultimately, the choice is whether we're willing to take that specific reality thoughtfully on, or else just walk away.

the people i have the hardest time with are the ones who choose neither of those options. like, what do you even get out of continuing to read something that you're unwilling to explore in good faith, or that you straight-up hate? just read something else. we only have so much time in the day. stop wasting yours, and stop wasting the time of people who actually enjoy the thing with your useless bad-faith criticism. sorry this tangent has totally departed from the chapter itself, but that really is what pisses me off so much about current-day online book culture. like, i'm thinking about all of those smug-looking booktubers making 2 hour videos called "i read [name of book that doesn't appeal to the lowest common denominator of people] so you don't have to." i know how long it takes to read books thoughtfully, and then to write, film, and edit videos. maybe stop wasting your own time and dig into something you love instead, or even try to make your own thing, and just hope that some smug asshole on the internet doesn't decide to do to your work what you've done to other people's work. but no, lazy cynicism and appealing to the easy gimmick of cringe is way more profitable, i guess. and it makes you less vulnerable to people criticizing work that came from your soul, because the work you're creating is completely soulless.

anyway. i wonder what kind of totally normal things damen and laurent are up to in the chapter i'm annotating

‘Kneel then,’ said Laurent. ‘Kiss my boot.’

"if you really are still a slave, even though we both know you’re a king, then do a demeaning slave thing right now"

He looked into Laurent’s excoriating blue eyes. The impossibility of it was like a sharp pain. He couldn’t do it. He could only gaze at Laurent across the distance between them. The words hurt. ‘You’re right. I’m not a slave,’ he said.

can’t indulge in the kink anymore by circumstantial necessity, but i’m sure they’ll find something even weirder to do instead on purpose

‘I am the King.’ He said, ‘I killed your brother. And now I hold your fort.’ As he spoke, Damen drew out a knife. He felt rather than saw all of Laurent’s attention swing to it. The physical signs were small: Laurent’s lips parted, his body tensed. Laurent didn’t look at the knife. He kept his eyes on Damen, who looked right back at him. ‘So you will parley with me as with a king, and you will tell me why you called me here.’ Deliberately, Damen tossed the knife onto the floor of the tent.

okay this is just extra of him, but i mean laurent got to do “hello lover” so damen deserves to be dramatic too as a treat. i also like what this symbolizes, as opposed to their previous knife moments. as defined by their stations, they don’t have a power imbalance anymore, and they don’t have a reason to be enemies. they are a prince and a king, not a master and a slave. they are military allies, teaming up against the regent. any power imbalance and beef they have now is emotional, complicated, and abstract, nothing clear-cut (haha) enough to be represented by an instrument of simple violence like a knife. and damen summarizes this perfectly, in the context of their previous knife moments, by viscerally reminding laurent of those encounters and then just tossing the thing across the room.

honestly, i bet laurent feels jealous of the clever performative gesture. and maybe a little turned on, too, despite the horrors. that’s a fun reversal.

‘Didn’t you know?’ said Laurent. ‘My uncle is in Akielos.’

yeah, he got a really good all-inclusive deal at the akielion sandals resort and needed a vacation after all of the murder and [redacted]

[unhingedoveractivemuse]

Title: What He Wants

Pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley/Eddie Diaz

Notes: Flufftober Day 17 Only One Bed

=============================================================

“So…” he says slowly, taking in the sight in front of him.

Buck grimaces, staring at the absolute mess that is Eddie’s house. ”I think a pipe burst.”

”You think?”

================================

It wasn’t a pipe.

It was three.

Eddie was not going home anytime soon, considering the repairs that would have to be done and the water damage that the house had sustained.

Dios, he’s going to have to deal with the fucking insurance.

At least he has Buck.

Buck, who he is going to live with for the time being.

And who still does not own a couch.

(Well, there's a loveseat, but there's no way Eddie can sleep on that.)

“Are you sure about this?” the blonde asks for the nth time since they’ve gotten Eddie settled in. Once it hit him that there was only one bed and no alternative options for sleeping, Buck became unsure about the whole arrangement.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Eddie parries, setting his phone down on the bedside table, and moves to change.

“I mean, I’m…you know. Bi.”

”So? Unless you’ve already found some new guy to date, I don’t see a problem with sharing a bed.”

His best friend blinks at him like he’s trying to comprehend how Eddie’s so okay about this, and Eddie gets it. Some people wouldn’t feel okay with sleeping in the same bed with their best friend who happens to be into their gender.

But it’s Buck. His best friend and partner who he trusts above all others.

Eddie would have had second guesses if Buck was still with Tommy, but Buck had broken it off with the pilot after some information about his ex that Gerrard (of all people) dropped and a subsequent steep decline in that relationship.

So, since they’re both single, Eddie doesn’t see a problem.

Actually…

”It will be a problem if you’re going to sleep in your slacks and polo, though. Heck, I might have to reconsider our entire friendship because no sane person will sleep in that.”

And that draws a laugh from Buck, the blonde’s frame relaxing as he realizes that Eddie really is okay with sharing the bed.

”Well then, how about I go change and we pull something up to watch on YouTube?”

”Sounds like a plan.”

And thus, something new between them buds beyond their knowledge.

============================================

The thing is, he really missed Buck when the blonde had been focusing on his relationship with Tommy. He never quite noticed how the sunny presence had become an essential part of his life, only realizing when it wasn’t there as often.

(He’d never admit it to anyone, but he’s pretty sure he was jealous of Tommy taking up so much of Buck’s attention when it was his first.)

So now that they’re living together, he basks in his best friend’s presence.

It’s easier to laugh with Buck around, easier to smile, and easier to be himself without the burden of being a father, a firefighter, or a significant other.

They spend their time together doing everything and anything. They catch up on documentaries that Buck didn’t watch (Tommy was never interested apparently, which is ridiculous) with beers in hand and lounging on the bed. They cope with Christopher’s absence. Buck makes them breakfast in bed because he’s always going to be the early riser of the two of them. They sit together in bed as Eddie watches Buck go through Duolingo to brush up on his Spanish. They go out hiking, biking, and whatever other activity Buck thinks of.

Even when they’re not together, they’re together, texting constantly no matter what they’re doing or who they’re with.

He can't help but want to keep this because it’s been bliss despite the hole in his heart reserved for his son.

If someone had told him that he’d feel like this when Christopher walked out of their home to head to El Paso, Eddie would have laughed in their face. But when faced with reality, he can admit it's true.

The ache is less. He feels less lonely. He looks forward to going home to the loft.

And what a tornado of feelings did that thought bring up.

It’s not like Eddie never thought of Buck as part of his family or that the blonde’s presence in the bungalow makes it even homier. He’s just never really thought of it outside the context of the bungalow.

Now, he’s coming to realize that home is the people. Christopher is home, which is why Eddie was always reluctant to go back to the empty bungalow.

And Buck is home. It doesn’t matter where they’re living. As long as Buck is with him, as long as he’s going back to Buck, that place is home.

It’s with that revelation that he and Buck start looking into fixing up the bungalow. The professionals have already gone in and replaced all the pipes that needed to be replaced and the wall that had to be taken down was almost repaired.

Now it's up to them.

They're sitting side by side on the bed again, pressed together shoulder to hip, legs outstretched, browsing through an online catalog for a hardware store.

“Okay, so the flooring should be easy between the two of us. We should have that done…three days or so after the wall is done,” Buck says. “What we need to decide is what flooring we're going with. So-”

Eddie listens as Buck rattles off information about different kinds of flooring and the pros and cons of them. Carpet versus floorboard versus tile. Light versus dark. Mopping versus vacuuming. Furniture consideration.

It's nice, he thinks, relaxing against his best friend. Buck's voice always did something to him and it does again without fail.

“So, what do you think?”

“Floorboard. That way Christopher can't complain when I turn on the vacuum. And something lighter so I'll be motivated to clean.”

He's good with keeping things clean in general. Kinda have to with a kid around, but, apart from making sure the pathways are clear, cleaning the floor has never been something he particularly enjoys.

He doesn't have to see it to know Buck’s rolling his eyes. “I'll do it for you. Go with a dark color. Gives it a more sophisticated, cozy feel.”

And that-

Buck just casually saying he'll do Eddie's chores and giving input as to how the house should look…

It's doing things to Eddie's heart.

“I don't know,” he says past the loud beating of his heart. “I was thinking about getting a darker couch. Wouldn't that clash?”

He startles when Buck jerks, turning around to look at Eddie in betrayal. “Wait. You're getting rid of the couch?!”

“Uh, yeah. It got soaked too, remember?”

“I liked that couch though!”

“It was already molding when I let the workers in yesterday.”

“Maybe someone can get it out?”

“I might as well buy a new one. It was already second hand anyway.”

“Can I have it then? That way I can get rid of the loveseat.”

Eddie snorts. “You want my old, moldy couch rather than your fancy, leather loveseat?”

“I'm not attached to it. I just got it because Natalia liked it. I much rather your couch. At the very least we can sit on it comfortably.”

“You are not moving a moldy couch into the loft.”

“But-”

“No.”

Buck pouts, which should not look so adorable on an adult male, but is.

“We can go furniture shopping,” he suggests. “You can pick out my couch and yours.”

“You'd let me do that?!”

Eddie smiles at the bright happiness exuding off of his best friend at the simple but meaningful gesture. “Of course.”

“What are we waiting for then? The store isn't closed yet!”

He laughs even as Buck drags him out of bed, a warm feeling filling every nook and cranny of his body.

================================

They get to the furniture store an hour before they close. It's late enough that there isn't anyone else, but also late enough that the salesperson looks absolutely devastated that there are customers.

Buck waves the man off though, reassuring him that they've got it, and proceeds to act like a kid in the candy shop, dragging a willing Eddie along.

“Eddie, come on, try this one!”

“Oh, that one looks nice.”

“I don't know about leather.”

“The universe is telling you to get a light colored couch, I swear.”

“It's so comfy. I could sleep on it all day.”

Any other day, Eddie is content to just listen to Buck's rambles, only humming at the right spots and occasionally letting his opinions known.

This time, he stops Buck completely.

“How about you don't pick a couch for the loft?” he blurts out the suggestion, stopping in his tracks as Buck starts making a beeline towards a maroon couch. "And don't pick my couch based on how good it is to sleep on. You won't need it to sleep on."

His best friend stops, turning frantic, wide, blue eyes on him. “What-”

“Move in with me.”

It's an idea that's been swimming in his mind since he came to realize that Buck is home too, and, the more he thinks about it, the more he's sure there's more to those thoughts and feelings.

It wasn't easy to accept the idea even as he finally and hesitantly placed a label on it, his want waging war against his upbringing.

But isn't that what he's striving for? Figuring out what he wants and learning to accept them?

And maybe it speaks a lot to the depth of his true feelings that they were easy to accept once he got past that hurdle. Once he allowed himself to think about what he wants and not what anyone else will think, the answer came easily.

It's Buck.

He wants Buck. He wants Buck to stay. He wants to be partners in everything with Buck.

Heck, Buck has already filled in that space by his side that he's been trying to fill for years.

He just needs to make sure Buck would even reciprocate his feelings and make it official.

“You see me,” he tells his best friend. “You see me and accept me. These last few weeks…I could finally feel like myself. Not a father. Not a firefighter. Not a boyfriend trying to impress their girlfriend. For the first time in forever, I felt like me.”

“Did you just quote Tangled?”

“Maybe I did, but it's not a fairy tale. It's true. It's the truth and it's with that truth that I can finally admit some things.”

“What things?” Buck asks barely above a whisper, something akin to hope in his eyes.

“I want you to shop for a couch for us. I want you to pick the flooring for us. I want you to pick the decorations, the shelves, the coffee table, and everything for us.”

Eddie takes a tentative step forward, within arms reach. “I want you to pick me.”

Buck gulps, stepping forward and closing the rest of the space between them. “D-do I have to pick a bed?”

“No. It didn't get flooded. But if you do want to get a new one, you can. Just make sure it fits both of us.”

He sees the moment Eddie's meaning really sinks into Buck’s mind, so it doesn't surprise him when Buck reaches and takes his hand.

“So you mean…please mean what I think you mean, Eds.”

“I mean I'm pretty sure-” Oh, why was he still denying it in any shape or form? “-actually, I am sure that I love you.”

The smile that draws out of Buck is so bright that even the sun can't rival it. “I love you too. Gosh, Eddie, I love you so much. I wanna kiss you so badly.”

“I'm open to that.”

“We’re in the middle of a furniture store!”

“So?”

Maybe a younger Eddie would have been appalled by the idea of kissing here, but he wants to be a new Eddie. He wants to be honest with himself and be the best version of himself he can be for his partner. He wants to embrace “carpe diem”, seizing the present and what he wants.

They aren't promised tomorrow after all.

So if he presses his lips to plush, pink ones in the middle of a furniture store?

Well, it's what he wants.

[shady-tavern]

Deals and Revelry, Quin's Backstory

The lovely @fyrenwater requested some more pieces for Deals and Revelry and I started with Quin's backstory. Hopefully it's a fun read! With Quin there is of course a warning ahead for implied murder.

***

The temple was old and not in the broken, long abandoned kind of way, overgrown and damp and too dangerous to enter. Quin had seen plenty of old places, had walked through plenty of runes. He lived for the danger, made a living out of going where no one else wanted to thread.

The upper temple had looked like one would expect, half swallowed by the swamp, covered with plants and little pieces of walls and fallen pillars stuck out of the knee-deep water and morass. 

He had even found the remains of a statue's face, nearly whittled to be unrecognizable by time and the environment.

The place clearly had been looted to hell and back, but something had felt different. Something had compelled him to stay. So he had looked around, using every single ounce of his talent and bullheaded tenacity until he had found it three days later. A hidden entrance.

The temple that laid below the broken skeleton husk above ground was not destroyed or crumbling. It was perfectly preserved, even if water had clearly found its way in. Nothing had grown, however. There was no slick algae, no signs at all that nature and the elements had wriggled through the cracks.

A few roots dangled from the ceiling, but they were all dead, crumbling when he reached up to touch them.

The temple was old, old in a way that told Quin it had withstood the tooth of time without a single scar for centuries. Something was still alive in these halls, even as everything that touched it died.

For just a brief moment he felt like he inhaled something otherworldly, a strange kind of power permeating the air. Whatever was down here wasn't even hiding that it existed, even if its presence had barely made it above ground.

This was what he had felt, what had made him trudge through mud and water and get bitten relentlessly by mosquitos for days. 

His steps echoed as he walked, a heavy presence to the silence around him. The sort of presence that only came with something ancient that refused to disappear. That refused to die even after it had been forgotten.

Quin wasn't a fool, however. He took his time, carefully examining his surroundings, disarming traps and escaping the few he didn't notice in time by the skin of his teeth.

The first time his blood spilled he felt the entire temple around him sigh and tremble. As if a great beast had tried to move in its cage.

And this temple was a cage, he realized as he walked and considered the ancient writing on the walls, his rations dwindling by the day. But he couldn't leave, it was almost feverish how he kept looking and searching, being drawn ever deeper into the temple.

Or rather, the tomb. This was meant to be a final resting place for something too powerful and ancient to comprehend.

A part of him knew he was pulled along by whatever was entombed here, but he allowed it to happen. He wanted to know what was down here.

He found his answer in a comparatively small, circular room. Paintings glittered on the wall as through freshly finished, the paint still wet.

Plaques with text were left below the artworks, as well as big words pressed into the floor. A strange kind of metal had been used to form the letters of a civilization long gone.

The presence was strongest here and Quin set up his camp, studying the ancient texts. A warning was on one part of the wall, showing two giant beings battle it out. The next text was easier to guess, if only because of the depiction of one giant being slain and the people at its feet using its blood and bones to seal the other.

Just as his last crumb of food was devoured and his last sip of water swallowed, Quin figured out the ritual. He still didn't understand too much about what exactly was down here and what exactly had been done to it to put it there, but he knew how to at least...wriggle loose the bars of its prison a bit, so to speak.

He used his blood to write, each ancient letter precisely placed between the metal writing on the floor. The moment he finished, his blood glowed a dark and deep red and he heard a sigh in the very air itself.

The being's presence became cloying and overpowering and while he couldn't quite make out words or any kind of spoken language, he could make out intent. A pact. A promise of power and wealth and everything he could possibly ever want, so long as he carried it out into the world.

Quin didn't hesitate so much as he turned the offer over in his head. He knew the stories of deals made with devils, with sealed away entities and rumored demi-gods and of course with very human monsters. He knew they were always a bad idea.

One could not trick or out-deal creatures that lived and thrived on such things.

But this deal was the very thing he had been searching for when he had first started dungeon delving. Power. Purpose. To be more than he was now, to no longer walk with blunt teeth and hidden daggers.

He wanted to be sharp and dangerous and deadly and powerful.

So he reached out with all that he desired and the being accepted. His world turned dark and black as, in his mind, a maw massive enough to swallow the sky opened wide.

*.*.*

The thing was in his head now, kind of. Quin was not fond of this part, but he managed to figure out how to shield his thoughts as he traversed the ruin, collecting the treasure the thing was guiding him to. Wealth was a part of power after all and power was what he had wanted, first and foremost.

It was...exhilarating. He was no longer human, he knew that in the very marrow of his bones. He bled red still, he learned and his emotions and thoughts were the same as before. He hadn't lost his humanity, however much of it he had possessed in the first place.

But he was stronger, faster and sharper now. As dangerous as he had always wanted to be and he reveled in it.

His bags filled with gold and jewels he emerged from the tomb-temple and the world was just slightly sharper around him, his senses stronger. He knew he could actually track something down by scent alone if necessary and it made him grin.

He set out with a confident stride, tall and fierce in ways he hadn't been able to even emulate as a human. He was different now and as he traveled, he slowly got used to all the changes.

Of course, every pact came with its downsides. People who had spoken freely with him before or had been willing to share information or even secrets over a couple of drinks shied away from him now.

Quin found that no one dared to meet his gaze and he checked his small pocket mirror multiple times, but his eyes were still the same. Dark and soulful, as his mother had once said. Gods rest her soul, she had always encouraged him to do what he wanted. To take what he wanted.

Quin traveled on swiftly, outstaying his welcome at every new place within mere moments. The thing in his head wanted something, but communication was still iffy and frustrated the both of them.

Then Quin stumbled across a whip-thin young woman, left bleeding at the side of the road. She was dying, that was easy to see, but her eyes told a different story. She did not shy from him the way everyone else did, a defiance to her as though she believed him to be the reaper and she was going to cling to this life with all she had.

Quin wasn't her end. If anything, he was her knew beginning, as he produced a contract for her through his...what was the thing, a patron? It was no benign entity, that was for damn sure. It roiled with malice and bloodlust whenever he focused on it.

The woman took the contract and found herself healed and changed, much like Quin had. They traveled onward together and Quin realized that people avoided her as much as they avoided him.

"What are we?" the woman asked as they camped outside a village that had refused to house them.

Quin shrugged. "Better," was all he said with a smile he knew was too sharp, dangerous in a way human smiles weren't. "Eat up, we're having a long road ahead tomorrow."

Treasure weighed heavy and it soon brought the unsavory attention of bandits and robbers. Quin had never shied from bloodshed, from protecting what was his and this was no different.

The fight was almost too easy with all that he was capable of now. He and the woman stood over the dead once it was done and dealt with. He inhaled the smell of blood, sweet and coppery, iron and salt and smiled to himself.

"You are right," the woman said quietly as she helped him loot the bodies. "We are better now."

They continued on together, picking up a couple more people along the way. A man tossed out on his ear by his family for loving another man, twins who were rumored to be born with black magic, a couple that had fled from their wrathful noble families. A betrayed merchant left in rags.

They all accepted the contract Quin offered them and soon he called them his hunters. They were vicious when necessary, absolutely deadly and no longer quite human. They weren't as strong as he, the contract he could offer a diluted version of the pact he carried in his soul and mind.

They approached a city a couple of weeks later and the thing in the back of his head stirred, hungry and greedy, feeling all those souls within calling out. It pressed images into his mind, of deals and contracts, of all the ways he could feed it. Make it stronger. Help it break its cage in given time.

Quin did not like that he didn't have much of a choice in this matter. The thing would take back the pact if he didn't listen and that would kill him and his hunters. And curse him, but he had grown fond of this lot of lost souls that followed him like he was their shepherd. 

Maybe he was, in a way.

His treasure got him what his charm no longer could: people willing to listen. He found an empty, unexpectedly large tavern and settled in. It was nice to have a home, he had to admit, after traveling for so long.

He soon had to concede the business side to employees who had no deals with him. For if he or his hunters were behind the bar or walking around with serving trays, the few that had shown up left swiftly.

It took time and effort to build a bit of a reputation, but slowly he carved out a place for himself in this large city. Mostly he was known for his deals and his tavern for offering nice ale and food to acceptable prices.

As he sat in his usual booth, waiting for people to approach him for a piece of his patron's powers, he realized that this wasn't quite the life he had wanted for himself.

Sure, he had gotten quite a lot out of the pact, but mostly he had wanted to be free. To do whatever he wanted. To have all the different versions of power to be untouchable and uncontrollable. To be really, truly free.

He watched a man gather the courage to approach him, his arms gripping a clearly sick babe. He'd get the mildest contract Quin could create.

Quin would help the guy for free if his patron allowed such things, which it of course didn't. For all of Quin's occasional depravity and ease at murdering, he did not like to take advantage of the truly helpless.

Of the people his parents had once been.

'Well,' he thought to himself as he smiled as mildly as he could when the father walked towards him at last. 'If this is my lot in life, I better make it a damn fucking good one.'

So he remodeled the tavern, hired performers and grabbed his carefully hoarded treasure. He spent and invested the gold, bartered and made deals that had nothing to do with the coiling darkness connected to his mind and soul.

He set himself free in almost all aspects. The pact had given him many things while shackling him down and even if the shackle was something he had to live with until his dying day, there were still other chains to break.

Chains made by society and stupid rules even he had stuck in his head despite his best efforts.

So Quin set himself free as much as he could and built his reputation anew. He built the Revelry and it grew beyond the bounds of his tavern with every year, gold flowing back to him first in a small trickle and then in a big river and he took it and invested it into his business, his street. His life.

Within a couple of years he was as powerful and untouchable as he had always dreamed of being. He had the sort of reputation that made people avoid his gaze for more reasons than one. 

Some days he could delude himself into thinking that it was his bloody and dangerous reputation alone that made folks inch away from him, rather than what his patron had turned him into.

Sometimes it was a lonely life, sure, but he had a...yes, a family now. His hunters meant the world to him and he cared for his employees, making sure they had everything they needed to be happy.

In return, they were fiercely loyal, bringing him rumors and secrets and warning him of backhanded deals and impending betrayals by business partners. He grew untouchable in more ways than one thanks to them.

He kept his patron fed and content, made sure it had everything it could possibly want. He was careful, however, never quite feeding it as much as it really wanted.

He didn't want it to get out of its tomb and while he knew some day it would happen, he'd drag it out as long as he possibly could.

Quin made the Revelry and dedicated himself to it, gave it his heart and blood and most of the time it was enough. Most of the time he felt like his life was nearly perfect.

As long as his patron was quiet, he pretended as though every part of him, his everything, could be dedicated to what he had built. That all his choices were his own and could not be controlled by another.

This was a good life, he reminded himself, trying to ignore the greed for more within him. The greed to reach that extra little inch to true freedom, the shackle on his foot keeping him firmly grounded.

He had a rich, free, powerful life. The sort of life written about in stories and that he had dreamed about as a boy while helping his mother scrub pots and pans and his father with mending clothes. 

He almost wished they were still alive to see him now. Sometimes he poured a drink in their honor and hoped they were watching from whatever afterlife they were in now.

He hoped they were proud, that he had taken all their lessons and challenged the world. That he had come out the other side as the person he wanted to be.

He hunted and made pacts, terrified foolish nobles and bartered for information to get the city guard fully under his thumb. He already had a number of people on his payroll, but he really wanted to get his claws into the captain. Then the city really would be his at long last.

He had no idea how soon his wish would be fulfilled.

It was a night like many others, filled with joy and laughter, wild partying and people cutting loose in a way that fed his very soul and spirit. Quin was in a very good mood as he made a contract with a burly man who could scarcely stand to even glance in his direction.

"My right hand will take care of things," he said, gesturing lazily and his first hunter melted out of the shadows.

His oldest friend, sometimes pain in his ass and a stalwart, loyal companion. Quin knew, deep down, that he would have withered away emotionally without his hunters at his side.

The deal made and on its way to being fulfilled, he got up just as someone tripped, stumbling towards him. He caught that person just in time, casting a brief glare at the drunk woman that had decided shoving his guests was a good idea.

The woman hurriedly looked away and Quin plastered on his best smile, straightening up the one in his arms. "Now there, usually I have to put in some work to make people swoon like this."

And the first thing he noticed was that the stranger met his eyes, unafraid and unflinching, before listing a bit to the side. Ah, a drunkard.

Or not, he realized when, for the first time, someone refused to be parted from him. Cold fingers clung to his silk doublet and the feeling that something was wrong tingled in the back of his mind.

So he reached out, hooking his finger under an equally cold chin, not yet knowing that he was looking at the one who would change his life forever in all the best ways.

The one to set him free, truly free, at long last.

*.*.*

Tag List:

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[moreespressoformydepresso]

So this will be tough to answer considering that carlos's actor is sadly no longer with us and let his memories live on

I was wondering if you ever had to do a story of carlos last few days with jane and his friends how would you do it

Like I love how they payed tribute to him in the royal wedding but I was surprised we never really got to see Jane sadness or her missing carlos

I guess it depends? Whether he saw his death coming or whether it’s as unexpected as the news of Cameron’s death was. If we go with the former, I’d put more focus on how everyone tries to cope with knowing someone is about to die. Specifically the underlying denial of everyone involved. Mostly I’d focus on Carlos trying to make the most of his last days and spending as much time with his loved ones as possible, tying up loose ends and crossing as many things off his bucket list as possible until his time runs out. Then there’s everyone around him coping, The denial, the pain of the truth constantly being thrown in your face, the powerlessness and the constant wondering what you could have done to prevent this. The trying to get everything out of the last few days because you don’t wanna live with the regrets of wasting time. Your deepest fear being that you’ll spend the rest of your life knowing you could have done more, and now it’s too late.

Then, finally, when it’s all over, I’d probably write about the inevitable ending to the story. Those who are left to pick up the pieces trying to stop that constant, niggling voice in the back of their head telling them it wasn’t enough. They weren’t enough. They could have done this that or the other and things might be different. They could’ve stopped it or at least slowed it down. The slow process of realizing that no amount of blaming yourself, justifiably or not, will change the past. It’s done. Carlos is gone. It’s too late to do anything about it now and all anyone can do is learn to live with it.

If it’s unexpected, I’d probably focus entirely on his friends and family. Specifically the different ways people try to cope with grief. The different stages of coming to terms with the fact that Carlos is gone and what forms they take in different people. The extremely emotional and the complete shutdown, the constantly doing something just to avoid thinking about it and the inability to do anything at all. The bottling everything up and the learning to let go. Grief is a slow process and it never really ends. It doesn’t leave, it just dulls to background noise. No matter how far you get, there will always be some kind of pain attached to the memories.

This was honestly hard to write. Apologies but I’m about to hardcore overshare so skip if you don’t wanna read it. I’ve written exactly one published story dealing with grief (fanfic for The Ballad Of Songbirds And Snakes) and that’s for a reason. When I was grieving, I was also dealing with a severe depressive episode, so I had a complete shutdown. I didn’t feel anything. Nothing about the situation felt real to me. But I saw the reactions of people around me and both of the situations I described above are ones I’ve experienced.

Two times, I watched a grandparent slowly die of illness. Years were spent seeing their health slowly deteriorate and trying to come to grips with that reality. It didn’t make the end easier when it came. All it did was shatter the illusion that maybe some miracle would save them and they’d pull through. One of these times happened right after an unexpected death. Everyone thought she’d live longer, and then she was gone. One week of thinking she’d be okay, and then it was over. It happened so fast I didn’t even have time to comprehend what was happening. None of these situations were easier, they were just different. It’s the sudden impact of a train against your heart vs the creeping cold spreading through you with every day you watch someone’s condition get worse. It’s watching someone battle against an illness until they’re so drained they give up the fight vs watching someone slowly lose touch with reality until they don’t even know what’s real and what’s in their head vs not even being able to watch anything at all because they’re already gone and you didn��t even get to say goodbye.

It’s never easy. And maybe the worst part is that you’ll never know if you had a hand in this or not, nor will you ever find complete closure. There will always be something, some regret or “what if”, and it’s inescapable.

[rigelmejo]

7/13/2024, some thoughts from this week.

The word 方 in japanese confuses me so much. I know its pronounced hou. It seems to be similar to koto こと/事. It seems to mean something different depending on the sentence. I'm guessing its like "this way, in this way, that thing, a person LIKE that, something" or some kind of meaning like that. But I see it all the time and just do Not clearly understand 方 when I see it and it is frsutrating.

I've seen some results this month of all the listening practice I've been doing! So I guess, at least for getting results for myself, I would say the strategy of listen to audio of stuff you could read, re-listen, and just do that a LOT does result in better listening comprehension (better at parsing word/phrase/sentence meanings quickly), learning some new words, and getting better at understanding Easier audio (audio with less unique words, more common words) as a side benefit.

Results of all the chinese audiobooks and audio dramas I've been listening to since June: I can follow 默读 chapter actions, dialogues, and some descriptives of new chapters I haven't recently read in chinese or english (but I have read them before). I can follow the main overall idea of most scenes in 魔道祖师 audiobook (which is an accomplishment since at the beginning of June it took a few listens to even parse what scene is vaguely what and re-learn a lot of chinese words I knew, whereas now I'm catching a lot of action clauses with verbs and some dialogue words and some key descriptive words so I am getting a vague picture of scenes). I can follow nearly every line of 默读 audio drama episode 1, there were only maybe 4-8 sentences with words I didn't know or couldn't immediately guess on the first listen. I can follow the main idea of scenes in the Cherry Magic chinese audio drama, despite not listening to that gersion before and noticing the therapist they added (???). However: I did notice less quick comprehension of business and job words, and I'd probably need more relistening to pick up better comprehension (the way multiple Modu chapter listens helped with words like 证据 证词). I also watched Hikaru No Go Qi Hun cdrama, first episode, and understood everything fully except for a few sentence explanations about how to play go and a few sayings Chu Ying said. Shi Guang's casual talking was a bit hard to get used to in the first few scenes.

And then, since grasping the main idea is great! It means I can just keep re-listening to learn more from that point on! But I did know at least the rough plot of the things listed above, so I had a crutch in understanding somewhat.

A big result for me was the improvement in understanding SCI audiobook, since I've never read it before and haven't seen the drama (I just know its murder investigation team with some bl - and I do plan to watch and read one day). I tried listening to it in June, on a drive for like 3 hours. I could catch some bits: theres a team talking, a boss/chief, some words about a case. At that point I was mostly just re-remembering a lot of words I used to know. Then I listened again to maybe 30 minutes, and caught something about an elevator and a fight, caught the main guys names better, caught that their chief told them to go handle a case and then one main person picked another guy up from their apartment (maybe?). I listened again a few days ago, just to the first chapter of the audiobook again. It was kind of cool and kind of disorienting? In that this time around I recognized a LOT of words, but ny brain was slow to piece them together into "so the sentence means X".

So Id grasp the meaning of a full phrase, or an action taken, or dialogue (which is probably the easiest to quickly comprehend since people talk in a more similar way, versus the broad differences in how different authors handle the rest of the text sentences), or bits of descriptives in small phrase chunks, and I was recognizing ALL character names this time around and some key details like how the office reacted to the elevator fight noises. But overall Id say, it was like I could follow the main idea in each scene but there'd be random chunks all over the place I didn't grasp either at all or fast enough. A huge improvement over when I listened a month ago, and probably the most difficult thing Ive managed to grasp the main idea of that I have not read before to help. Still a long ways away from full comprehension. Its really interesting to see the improvement though in just a month! If i keep this up, i might really be able to listen to new audiobooks for plot by the end of the year.

That's my goal: to follow the main idea, nearly all actions and dialogue, and at least key descriptives (so like where I am when listening to 默读 now) when I listen to NEW audiobooks or dramas. Since thats enough to enjoy the plot and feel i understood the important parts of the plot, while also still learning more if im listening to something i still need to learn more words from (which is most audio lets be real lol).

In terms of comprehension now, although this will be a really rough guess (since I'm not counting actual unknown words): modu audiobook 90-95% comprehension depending on which sentence (i understand the audio a BIT less well than the book, and i can read the book extensively mostly so book comprehension is like 92-98% depending on the chapter), modu audio drama is 95% or higher (i really did understand almost everything), modaozushi comprehension was like 80-85% maybe in that I think I can understand a lot of phrase chunks but theres also a lot of unknown words and guess work I have to do until I get more familiar with the writing style and specific vocabulary in it, Cherry Magic audiodrama is like 88-92% in that I am struggling to catch specific details but I know if I relistened 3 times I's know almost every word and it would be more like 95% or higher comprehension - but because i need to practice hearing the business words more, comprehension is low enough (like 88%) to feel i need to focus more intensely to catch more details. Hikaru No Go Qi Hun is easily 95-100% comprehension, im a little baffled its actually so easy, maybe i could watch The Bad Kids with no subs now... i assume maybe Shi Guang and kids/teenagers being the leads and the daily life setting helps keep the vocahulary mostly in the realm of more common words ive definitely already learned... hence why the go specific words and sayings from Chu Ying were the only unknown words (being more specific words and less common). SCI audiobook is like 85% comprehension in that... its easier to follow than modaozushi, and i think i could probably comprehend 90% if i relistened a few more times, but at present its just i am NOT adjusted to the author's word choices and preferred way of describing things so the non dialogue non action parts are just Hard for me to comprehend quickly as i listen.

So that's how chinese listening progress is going. I guess I proved to myself that I really am at a point where I just need to LISTEN TO STUFF A LOT, A LOT, AND LISTENING WILL SIMPLY IMPROVE. So yeah, lets see how listening comprehension progress is in another month.

If anyone's curious, while listening I would open google translate app up and type in a word here or there that I wanted to know the meaning of. Some words were words I actually knew in reading and didnt recognize in listening, some were brand new words. I probably would have been fine looking no words up, but it kept irritating me every time i heard a word like 证据 市局 事故 局 负责 否则 that I KNOW ive read before, that would clarify the whole phrase meaning of what I just heard, but i couldnt remember the meaning from just listening when im used to the word's visual appearance reminding me of word meanings.

So how has japanese been going?

Also interesting improvements. Honestly. A bit surprised at how much improvement. Because in glossika japanese app im only on sentence like 1700, and there isnt a new word every sentence so ive probably only reviewed 1200 common words so far (i used to know 2000+ japanese words last time i was properly into studying). Maybe theres a vague memory of the other words i knew once, in my head helping me comprehend stuff? But as far as like glossika materials, i didnt expect to Improve my japanese comprehension until id studied 3000 sentences (and was finally learning some truly NEW japanese words). Now... the glossika course has given me a few new words, and not some of the common words i expected it to already cover, but its just not enough new words to make a big impact yet in my opinion (maybe 200 brand new words for me tops).

I think the main thing driving the improvement in japanese comprehension ive seen this month is:

1. Exposure, so much japanese exposure to refresh my memory and what i used to know, and to practice comprehending what i knew FASTER since im hearing japanese a Lot. 2. A lot of exposure in a short amount of time probably helped refresh my memory lol. 37 hours Ive listened to japanese this past month. 3. I do think one benefit of using glossika (although I think its overpriced for how many errors it has, and Clozemaster's radio mode or free anki sentence decks or watching shows/condensed audio/a lot of media exposure would have the SAME benefit) is that I'm getting a lot of exposure to japanese verbs and adjectives in MANY conjugations, particularly in conjugations that are very common in real life but in learning materials tend to be focused on later in learning and less for beginners. Ive run into a ton of verbs in glossika that are a. Compound verbs being used together b. Sareta form. C. Rareru form d. Te-imasu and te-iru form (and the negatives, past tense, etc versions of those verb forms). E. The ways of saying "must". F. The way soke japanese statements love using double negatives or negatives to express a positive (such as "would you like to go" being きみはいきませんか negative ikimasen). The wide variation in how I'm seeing verbs is helping me recognize verbs I know MUCH faster, regardless of the form they're showing up in.

I think it depends on personal opinion, or experts smarter than me, but theres an idea that each word you learn is really each form of a word. So for example, in chinese you just learn run once as 跑 and youre good! 跑 will always be that pronunciation, that hanzi, in any sentence. But learn run in english, and you actually need to learn multiple words to fully understand the word in Any sentence you see it in: run, running, ran. So with languages with a lot of conjugations, my thought is maybe you need to learn more forms of words to truly learn them to the level of recognizing them in multiple forms. So with a language like japanese, you want to get familiar with ALL the verb forms of each word youre learning, eventually. I feel that exposure to such a massive amount of varied verb forms is helping me fill in those gaps of "i know 来る 来ます 来ません well but i dont recognize these if i hear them fast 来られます 来られないんです etc". So the frequent exposure to lots of different verb forms helps to comprehend faster what verb im hearing and what that form of the verb is Communicating specifically.

Also though I just struggle a lot with japanese grammar so. For me I guess more exposure to varied grammar is always going to help me, over not doing it.

As my own test on myself lol, I did a lot of this glossika japanese app course just pressing play and letting lessons play in the background. I read a sentence when im curious? And ive played the review audio around 35% of the time (more than i usually would lol). But for the most part i just press play on the sentences audio, and work or read tumblr or whatever i was planning to do. I dont pay full attention. And im still seeing improvements so. The lesson for me i guess: better to do something imperfectly and with only some effort, rather than not doing anything at all. Even imperfect with inconsistent effort causes improvement and learning.

So now the fun part: progress I've seen in a month.

I found a link to some japanese condensed audio, so thats what I used. I listened to Final Fantasy X audio from the opening to about when Yuna and company leave Besaid. I've listened to that part of the game before in japanese, like watching lets plays. Listening to the audio this time around was wild: i could guess the word for high summoner (based on the braska conversation in the temple), i could understand Tidus saying he didnt know the prayer to wakka, wakka telling tidus he reminds him of Chappu, the crusaders explaining sin (roughly) to tidus, tidus dreaming underwater of his dad and in the cold temple wishing to not be lonely anymore, rikku introducing herself and saying she's al-bhed and asking tidus if hes prejudiced and tidus saying he plays in the zanarkand abes, her telling him zanarkand is gone but maybe he could find someone in luca and he got too close to sin, wakka saying you play blitzball, the villager who says stay away from the summoner, yuna saying thank you! I understood a LOT of the audio!

It was weird. In the past, id guess a lot of the japanese by the kanji in the cutscenes (and rough similarity to chinese meaning) and some japanese i knew. This time i Only listens to audio so no kanji to help me guess. And this time i didnt have to guess a lot, i just Understood. I had to guess wjen tidus dreamt of yuna and rikku since i didnt understand the lines but remembered the dream sound effects, and guess the part where tidus walked in on yuna finishing the temple, but the parts i described above? I just was able to follow because of the audio. Wild. Wild to me. It felt like listening to SCI in chinese: lots of individual words and phrases i understood, mostly action words or common noun objects, and dialogue is easier to follow (and since a game is all dialogue in its audio of course FFX had less descriptions id struggle with compared to SCI audiobook). Ive never understood the main idea of japanese audio, without japanese subtitles to help me (with guessing from hanzi knowledge) and without visual context (like watching a lets play i can guess based on lets players expression and the game cutscene and actions happening).

So yeah. That was a wild fucking success. Still a lot to learn and get better at, obviously. But i think i could learn new words (and re-remember some words i once knew) by listening to japanese more. With visuals too, like a lets play or show, i could probably grasp some additional details beyond just the main ideas. And have an easier time of it than i did a year ago. I feel very excited, and intimidated. But learned: okay listening to random sentences of japanese and english does seem to help me lol.

The other test was i listened to condensed audio of death note episode 1 and 2. Again, no visuals to help me. But also, again like with FFX, the benefit of me knowing the plot and that helping me place what scene i hear and guess at some of the words im hearing. It went? Bafflingly well? Not easy by any means. But not impossible. I followed the main idea of most scenes (the scenes of the shinigami in shinigami realm i couldnt get most of the dialogue, and the police ICP meeting i caught 警察 keisatsu and L and L mentioning Kira is probably japanese but a lot of the back and forth chatter i couldnt guess much of). I followed what was going on mainly with key words i know, phrase chunks i understood, and then using my prior plot knowledge to guess. Im frankly just surprised that doing this was possible - i expected almost no comprehension. Comprehension wasnt high, of course, but it was enough to learn new stuff by continuing to listen (thanks in part to plot familiarity), which i could not do with Death Note a year ago unless i watched it visually and used visuals to help/kanji to help guess/intense focus and pausing the screen a lot to look at japanese subtitles/and paused a lot (i did not have good listening skills AT ALL).

So i guess the biggest takeaway is that listening to japanese is doing what I hoped it would: improve my comprehension of Spoken Japanese (without using kanji for a crutch as much as i normally do), and improve my speed of comprehension of listening to japanese.

I still need to learn a LOT more words. But im happy that this study method does seem to be helping to fix the weak spots i knew i had.

[cohendyke]

since i am suffering from Insomnia** the thing about hal wilkerson is that he’s married and i don’t think he would ever cheat on lois because he loves her and that’s his wife and the mother of his kids. also it is canon that all these guys do is fuck and it’s at the cost of their own lives and financial well being. but if he ever did lois would probably like. cut his balls off but he’d be very into it and to be honest would probably ask her to do it maybe even without him cheating. but also he and lois would be able to have a threesome without having trust issues but he only really enjoys it when it’s with another guy. i do think this guy is bisexual but i also don’t think he can really comprehend it but everyone else in his family knows and accepts it but if anyone tries to bring it up it just causes him a lot of confusion. but again so much of his sexuality depends on him being married. i think in all honesty he’s a waiting till marriage kind of guy not because he’s a christian freak that’s just how his brain is wired. it’s very much a scheodingers cat situation so it is just easier to say smash because at the end of the day he is a dilf. but the bigger question is if a a scenario where i, girl-kendallroy, or any other tumblr user ‘smashes’ hal wilkerson is even possible within the realms of mitm canon UNLESS a lois-hal divorce happens BUT. if their marriage ever fell apart to the point of allowing someone to smash him w/o lois the hate sex these two freaks would have would just bring them back together and they’d be happier than they were before probably. so final verdict: smash but it’s literally impossible for the above reasons and also he’s not a real person.

** i wrote this while i was desperately sleep deprived. i have since gotten a good 8 hours of sleep and regained my judgement but i guess not enough since i am posting this unedited

[likeadog]

god i hate the weird superiority complex people get over reading. i have such a complicated history w reading bc i couldnt read until 4th grade (i could read and say the words but i Literally could not process them in any capacity) and from then until like 8th grade i would read anywhere from 10-15 books a year. and then it stopped clicking for me again and i progeessively got worse and worse. and like ive gotten better over the last year or 2 but i still cant read outloud without stumbling over my words and stuttering really bad or skipping things and its So frustrating. and for a long time suddenly losing my ability to read cohesively made me Hate reading because i used to be so good at it. idk its just frustrating and dishearteninf that after all of that and learning to enjoy it again people think its appropriate to lord having an easier time reading over others bc ppl having that attitude is part of why i struggled to pick it back up which has only really happened in the last year or so

YEAH. YEAH YEAH. COSIGNED

while not on the same level after um. gestures to my brain. the problems began i dropped off on reading and i just remember the last like 2-3 years being so incredibly frustrated i cant do what i used to be able to do as a kid. and im still a pretty freakishly fast reader (even if i have to go back to re-comprehend or remind myself bc my short term memory is Shot).

and its odd because when you ask these uh. bibliophiles i suppose what counts as reading you get some wild answers like. ive been beating myself up over not reading more books but im literally always digging through some pdfs or articles but that doesnt count i guess. nor does audiobooks or graphic novels (?) . its so fucking goofy like we get it you want fuck oscar wilde for your dark academia lifestyle but dont make it everyone elses problem. if you want to be an oppressed nerd so bad ill push you into a locker grow the fuck up

and it all just circles back around to ableism like truly. and then the shit they read isnt even good boooo tomato tomato tomato

anyway my strategy for reading improvement has been like. either juggling or like in any order but trying to do a 3 prong approach with reading something below my skill level, something at my skill level, and then something above my skill level + take notes when possible. i also write in my books lol who give a shit

[yoroshiu]

“I don’t care” vs “But I’ll do it” + The Reason Behind Sora’s Journey (Localization/Character Analysis) (KH3 Re:Mind)

NOTE: I’m really grateful for the likes and reblogs! It really makes my day and gets me motivated to share more things I find/learn. I’ll start to tag my posts for easier organization! I’m thankful for the advice ^o^ This particular line I want to compare is extremely miniscule in the grander scale of things, and I can see my analysis being argued against, but I guess this is me placing my major to use alongside my love for languages/translating/localization. I’ll go back to older posts and organize better if possible. Also, I’ll go back to more translating/localization related things! I just remembered this very particular thing that I wanted to talk about.

(By the way, I honestly don’t feel strongly about ships in KH in general, so please don’t take any of my posts as me personally leaning towards one ship or against another, but feel free to interpret these translations and differences between dubs/languages as you see them.)

Scene: When Sora is about to go back in time to save Kairi

ENG: I don’t care.

JPN: But I’ll do it.

The original text for that line is:

「でもやるよ」

~~~ Analysis:

I’m making a post about this since it always stood out to me in my KH3 JPN watch-throughs. I’ve seen a back and forth about Sora in that moment and Sora’s character in general, and for all the line above is, I feel like this is where wording makes a difference. Sora’s my favorite character too, so I tend to feel even more of a need to understand him and how the games tend to portray him, and sometimes even more so, how language portrays him. 

On one hand, the lines pretty much say the same thing. Sora’s planning to forgo any worries about his safety and the general consequences to break nature taboos to save Kairi. But I think where I’m going to go with this is pretty clear. “I don’t care” gives off an air that he didn’t really think about those consequences while “But I’ll do it” shows that he’s considered it and is willing to go through with it despite all of that. This is an extra personal opinion/insight, but I feel that saying that Sora didn’t comprehend what he chose to do is kind of doing his character and his development disservice. High key, I don’t have too much to add onto that so this is a pretty short post that I mostly feel doesn’t have anything amazingly insightful, but it was a thought I wanted to let out in the open.

In terms of localizing/translating, this is another example of how important word choice can be (it’s been zero days since I mentioned word choice fr ToT). Something as small as “don’t care” or “but I’ll” can go a long way. As a writer, I find it to be fascinating to study, even if it’s something a general audience doesn’t actively think about. 

______________

About That One Line That Came After:

Same scene, in ENG, Sora says “That’s the whole reason behind my whole journey.” JPN Sora says “My journey started there.” These give off relatively different vibes wording-wise, which is also I find to be interesting. Because in a way, they also say the same thing but it feels different when I read it. 

[compressednerve]

25 and 27 for the fic meme please 🙏

Thanks for the ask!!! :D Big rambling ahead <3

"25. What did you use to write? (e.g. writing programs, paper & pen, etc.)"

Most of my writing skill is fleeting based off how functional my brain is working that day, so I tend to go back and forth between hastily typed notes in Discord and attempts to flesh things out in google docs-- both of which I don't really love, but they're online and I can link the files easily to @parasitefun who's my creative partner and helps with my processes. I loathe the spellcheck/grammar function on docs! I used to write exclusively in notepad or OpenOffice back on my old computer but I find OpenOffice in general... lacking.

I wasn't taught to read or write in the uh... traditional way, so I usually have an exorbitantly difficult time with actually formulating sentences. So I guess using Clip Studio Paint is another program I use for writing, because I need to storyboard, assemble timelines of events, sketches of emotions... what have you. It helps me in "assembling" the information required for a plot, but usually I just end up scrapping the fic entirely and condensing it down to a comic or a few paragraphs attached to an illustration... for example, here's some sketches from a few weeks ago while I chip away at my millionth attempt at a chaptered longfic, this time now featuring Yung Northmoor!

Whether I complete this as an actualized comic or intermittent illustrations, or keep them as sketches for referencing certain vibes of the scene, is mostly up to luck if I even can keep the momentum up to carry the work to the finish line 😔 I am also extremely shy and precious about my WIPs most of the time, I feel like my sketches are very vulnerable... which is unfortunate because I finish maybe 15% of the pieces I start!!! This is due to CTE though, and thus for the most part cannot be helped at the moment. I think for 2024 a resolution I have is to try to hold myself to finishing at least one Large Project a month, cuz then at least I'll have 12! :D

Recently I ..........acquired.......... Scrivener which I hope will help with a lot of the messy notes and outlines become more organized. It's an old version of the program though, and I can't figure out how to make the text of the UI any larger which makes navigating the program itself a pain. It's also very informational dense. Which is. Difficult and maze-like for me to comprehend sometimes. Multiple times in the past few years I've bought corkboards, pushpins, notecards, and other utensils to try to help make physical note taking easier, but my arthritis makes my handwriting dogshit to a point where I can hardly read it myself... and we don't have the physical space for my pepe silva act XD Maybe some day, though!

"27. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?"

I wish! I never really thought of doing anything special for finishing fics- most of the time if it's not painstakingly planned out like above process described, the only time I get anything finished is if I do it all in one single sprint... hence so many abandoned WIPs... It's hard to take something to the end when so much of my ability to even start it is based off random whims! I think I get the genuine ability to write, coherently and cohesively, maybe every few months. I'm inspired and writing fic in my head pretty much all the time as a part of my psychotic processing as filtering my distorted reality through the lens of characters and scenarios has been one of my main perceptions of the world from a young age due to childhood schizophrenia, but capturing it in actual words and sentences that other people can actually read is a whole other basket!

...So, I guess nothing really, other than a large sigh of relief and a feeling of release in having finally achieved what I was hoping to achieve, or at least, an approximation that's close enough to it that I'm satisfied. Maybe this is my sign to try to incentivize finishing things by setting up a reward if I can manage! :D

[mellowyandere]

One Hell of a Logical Ruse Part 1

Reader: F

Characters: Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead) 

Summary: Shouta loves a good game of cat and mouse, unfortunately for you the game’s a little rigged. This is somewhat of an experiment to try and write a smut scene from the male POV. Disclaimer I am not a man so uh yeah lmao. 

Based off the pre-established fic You’re Ours to Protect. 

Length: 4.5K

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, praise kink

Aizawa Shouta was a rational man. He did his best to adhere to logic, and to never waste time with unnecessary action. And yet despite this, he absolutely loved watching you try to escape. You were pretty clever, even without him “accidentally” forgetting to lock the second story window that just so happened to be above some forgivingly soft shrubbery. 

You probably would have figured some way out on your own, but something feral inside him didn’t want to wait around for you to act. Normally it was his ever-loud husband Hizashi that fell flat when it came to the notion of patience, but today he would relent to his own selfish desires. 

Toshinori would have been utterly distressed had he been aware of the sleepy pros scheme. The number one was a man of swift action, seemingly never thinking twice before charging fist first into danger. He would not be happy Shouta was playing with you like this, but Toshinori and Hizashi wouldn’t be made aware of his little game with you. After all they had no idea he set this up, so they might genuinely try to punish you. He’d keep it quiet once he caught you and pretend it’s your little secret. Maybe you’d even be a little grateful if you believed he was saving your skin.

He rationalized his behavior by telling himself you seemed so bored, truly this was the perfect way to stimulate your mind and body. So when he heard the telltale sound of a body landing in bushes on the back side of the house he simply started a timer for 20 minutes to give you a bit of a head start. 

Was it cruel to get your hopes up like this? Perhaps, but he’d make sure to fuck you senseless to alleviate the disappointment. After all, if you were a good girl you’d have settled into your life with them already. But you really did enjoy testing them, which brought out the side of him that wanted to put you in your place. 

Giving himself a once over he made sure he had everything he would need for your inevitable return home. Well, now that you were basically quirkiness, all he needed was his capture weapon just in case you put up a struggle. He hadn’t decided yet if he was going to fuck you when he caught you, or if he was going to haul your cute ass home first. 

Thinking about plowing into you with adrenaline still pumping through his veins from the hunt had some blood rushing below his belt. Well he could always just do both.

The shrill ringing of his phones alarm brought him back from his wandering thoughts. With a sadistic grin stretching wide across his face he headed for the front door.

-----

Three weeks. Three fucking weeks trapped inside that house with three insane men. Sure they might not beat you or starve you, but the constant belittling, undermining and infantilizing was about to drive you to insanity yourself. You almost jumped for joy when you noticed an unlocked window on the second floor in Hizashi’s and Shouta’s room. The blond man had a bad habit of using too much cologne, and his dark-haired counterpart was always having to air out the room when the radio star went overboard. 

Eraserhead was normally very diligent about ensuring the window was sealed tight, but last night Toshinori had come home in a flurry of smoke and blood, sending his blond junior into hysterics. It was nothing serious, unfortunately, but Shouta had been the one to calm Hizashi and tend to the number ones injuries. Amidst all the ruckus he had left the window unlocked. 

You knew Shouta would soon realize his mistake and lock the window down tight, leaving you with a small time frame to enact your grand escape. It wasn't ideal, but the best you had been able to do was wait for both blonds to leave, trapping you in the house with Shouta. Normally he let you be during the day, opting to nap and grade what appeared to be homework. Hopefully today would seem like just another day, and he wouldn’t think to check on you until dinner approached. 

You found yourself perched on the window sill, ready to take flight. All you had were the clothes on your back, not wanting to make any suspicious noises that would tip you off. On the count of three you braced yourself and pushed off from the ledge, landing on the bushes below with a thud. 

Fuck, that was a bit louder than you had anticipated. Ignoring your growing anxiety, you made quick work of escaping the clutches of the now flattened bush and took off into the woods on the back half of the house. 

Your heart was hammering like mad in your chest as you sprinted as fast as you could. It was hardly fair that it was your first time outside in three weeks and you couldn’t even slow down to take it all in. Thankfully it was spring, meaning you wouldn’t have to worry about the cold. All you needed to do was find someone to get this stupid quirk canceling collar off and then you could safely recede into the background, making sure the three pros never found you again. 

Easier said than done when one of those pros was All Might, and the other two were just as formidable, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try. You did your best to not leave a trail behind, but knew once Shouta figured out you were gone he’d have no trouble tracing your tracks. It was the unfortunately shitty reality you were dealing with. 

Were you really going to be able to escape? Even now as you ran as fast as you could it felt like a fruitless endeavor. There were too many variables that had to line up perfectly in order for you to pull this off, and as you ran directionless through the woods no viable solutions were coming to you. Hell, even now your lungs were burning from exertion, legs begging you to stop. 

But if there was one thing that you were it was stubborn. Stubborn to a fault sometimes, and so you pushed onwards. After what felt like an eternity of non-stop running you slowed to a walk. The forest seemed never ending, taunting you with its sprawling army of trees and shrubbery. You decided to be more mindful of the tracks you were leaving, veering off course in a way that would hopefully go undetected. 

Now no longer running you simply kept your steps quiet and ears alert in case Shouta had already discovered your absence. He was good at his work, but even he had limitations. 

-----

Shouta had to give credit where credit was due, you were better at this than he thought you’d be. If you were his student he’d be proud, but you were his prey so he was a bit annoyed. At first your tracks had been sloppy, easy to follow and incredibly straight forward. At some point though you had changed your approach, footsteps almost vanishing as you adopted a new tactic. 

He found himself crouching low, inspecting leaves to see which you had accidentally broken. There were no more snapped limbs as you carefully maneuvered through the woods. If he wasn’t a pro at hunting people down you probably would have been able to evade him, but this was his livelihood. 

Ever so carefully he followed your almost invisible trail. He had you beat in endurance so you’d have to settle somewhere eventually, and without food and water you were at a distinct disadvantage. Everything was lining up in his favor as he intended, even if you were making this a little harder than expected. 

The anticipation of catching a glimpse of you, of watching you realize he was there and taking off, made his heart beat faster. The longer you evaded him, the more time he had to come up with a fun punishment for you. 

-----

The sun had been directly overhead at the beginning of your escape, and was now kissing the horizon. Oranges and reds were thrown about the woods as the creatures of the night began to wake from their slumber. You listened to see if you could hear the chirping of frogs to find a water source but no luck. 

There was no doubt in your mind that Shouta was 110% aware of your absence by now and was probably hot on your trail. You were zigzagging a bit, trying your best to not disturb the forest floor while making it harder to track you. Dammit this was the fucking worst, it had to have been at least 6 hours in these woods, and without any food or water you were famished. 

And yet despite wandering about for 6 fucking hours you had yet to see anything besides the woods. Maybe you should just give up, sit down and accept defeat and whatever punishment you had awaiting you. You couldn’t help but shiver a bit at the fear of what that would entail. 

As dusk quickly turned dark you debated on whether or not you were going to rest for the night. Visibility would be lower, giving you a slight edge, but Eraserhead was a night owl meaning you were entering his domain of peak performance. There was also no guessing if he was the only one looking for you. All Might could move faster than you could even comprehend and Present Mic was fine-tuned when it came to noise location. 

Sighing in annoyance as your wayward thoughts shot holes through your confidence you decided to find somewhere to try and lay down for a bit. If all three were out hunting you down they could take turns and overlap the time so you never got to rest. As busy as they should be with hero work they always seemed to find too much time to hover around you. 

Spotting some dense shrubbery, you crossed your fingers that any creepy crawlies would keep to themselves and carefully began to conceal yourself. Perhaps one of them would pass by and you could gain some intel. If you were lucky they’d write this area off after not finding you and search elsewhere. 

Settling as comfortably as one could in a bush you closed your eyes and did your best to focus on the sounds around you. The melodic chirping of crickets was the most overwhelming of all the sounds. Skittering of small forest animals echoing around as well. Your mind began to desensitize to those sounds, the lack of adrenaline that pushed you along at the start of all this causing it to dip into unconsciousness. 

That was until you heard the distinct snap of a branch. Eyes flying open you were on high alert as you kept still. You tried to hear if there would be any follow up sounds, knowing something of a decent size had to have broken the branch. If it had been a deer they would have simply kept moving, which made you all the more anxious. 

“No more tracks kitten, I know you’re here somewhere. This little game dragged on a lot longer than I had anticipated so it seems there won’t be any way to hide this from Zashi and Toshinori.” 

You wanted to scream. Even though you had tried your best it simply wasn’t enough against Eraserhead. 

“If you come out kitten I’ll give you one last shot to run. Those bushes over there look like a mighty fine hiding spot for someone of your size.” His voice was pointed directly towards you.

FUCK. You couldn’t tell if he was bluffing or not at this point but he knew you were here, might as well come out with some dignity before he dragged you out kicking and screaming. 

The bush rustled loudly as you forced your way out. You were tired, famished and most of all so frustrated you wanted to cry. You didn’t even need to look at him to know he had a condescending smirk plastered to his face. 

“There’s my pretty kitty, did you have fun outside?”

Shouta knew just what to say to strike a nerve, but you held your tongue. “One last shot to run. You said so yourself. Ditch the capture weapon and catch me like a man, I mean unless you don’t think you can. I’m already quirkiness which is your gimmick on a regular day, so really you're just beating on someone while they're already down.” You looked up now, glaring at him as his smile grew in amusement. 

“I’m going to have to be a lot more physical without it you know, I’ll have no choice but you manhandle you.”

“I’d rather take my chances.” You knew even without his capture weapon you didn’t stand much of a chance of escape. Your only goal now was to try and see how much he was willing to handicap himself. 

“Gonna give me a head start or are you going to just run as soon as I do?”

At this Shouta had to keep himself from snarking back at you. He had already given you a head start, but if he told you this was all set up you’d probably lose the will to fight on. “Five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes to run as far as you can and then I’ll come after you,” he said while pulling out his phone. 

“What about Toshinori and Hizashi?” 

“At the house. I told them I’d handle this, Toshinori will be coming to get us though once I tell him game over. We’re pretty deep in the woods and I don’t feel like walking back for six hours.”

You nodded at his words. So it was just the two of you then. Your combat skills were nothing to write home about, but maybe if you fought dirty you could gain the upper hand. 

“Alright, tell me when.”

“Oh, I already started it. You have 4 minutes and 17 seconds.”

Fucking asshole. You took off sprinting, running as fast as you could, only opting to slow to a jog once you thought you were out of earshot. You wanted him to believe you’d be trying your damndest to put distance between the two of you. But you knew you’d never outrun him. Instead you were going to continue jogging for a bit, counting down the seconds in your head so you didn’t lose track your timer. 

Once your remaining time was up you were going to lay low and try to ambush him. He wouldn’t be paying as close attention to your trail since he knew he could easily catch up. 

After the remaining 4 minutes had passed you found a decent sized tree to hide behind and worked on slowing down your breathing. It felt like your heart was going to chisel its way straight through your bones, your limbs trembling with anxiety. It wasn’t often you were hunted back when you were an anti-hero. Not many people knew who you were which made it incredibly easy to be looked over. 

Scooping up handfuls of dirt you waited. You heard him before you saw him. He wasn’t bothering to take it slow, seemingly eager to get it over with. He ran right past you, noticing you a second too late as dirt and debris were chucked straight into his face. 

He yelled out in surprise, hands reaching out to grab you but you jumped out of reach. True to his word his capture weapon was nowhere in sight. Screaming in anger you lunged at him, nails attempting to claw his face but his own larger hands were working on wiping off your dirt assault, effectively blocking you.  

He stumbled back a bit, unprepared for your hostility, before steadying himself and turning the tables back on you. In one swift motion his fist collided with your gut, forcing the air from your lungs. Your arms came down to protect where he had hit as you wheezed pathetically. Seconds later his larger frame came crashing into you, easily knocking you to the ground. 

You cried out in pain, head hitting the ground a bit too hard as stars danced behind your eyes.

“Not very smart of you Y/N, I mean it beats trying to outrun me, but really? Dirt? It’s like you want me to punish you or something.”

“GET OFF ME!” 

Placing a hand on the back of your head he pushed you down while his other arm pulled the lower half of your body flush against him. You could feel his erection pressing up against your ass.

You were a snarling sobbing mess at this point. All your emotions crashing down at once as you thrashed below Shouta.

“Easy now easy, calm down kitten. You did really good, better than I thought you were going to. If you calm down I might be willing to reduce your punishment, but you have to stop throwing a fit first.”

Despite his words Shouta was enjoying almost every second of your thrashing. The only thing he didn’t enjoy was knowing how disappointed you were right now. Anyone would be after coming so far. Now was his chance to make it up to you before giving Toshinori the go ahead. 

As your struggles subsided the only movement from your body was from your gentle sobs. Shouta for his part was slowly grinding his hard cock against your ass as he softly shushed you. 

“I know you’re disappointed kitten but I’ll make you feel better. If you’re a good girl for me I’ll be willing to look past that little dirt tactic. You’re such a smart girl though, you really did catch me by surprise.”

Leaning down he began to whisper into your ear, removing the hand from your head and bringing it down to your clothed pussy. 

“You always were resourceful, it’s one of the things I fell in love with about you. If only you were a hero, but then again if you were I wouldn’t have had the fun of hunting you down.”

You felt your stomach drop at his words. All three of them enjoyed reminiscing about how they first saw you and all their subsequent actions that lead to your imprisonment. The effort they had put into bringing you “home”. It was beyond disturbing. 

“Please Shouta, not here. Can we, can we just go home first?”

“Maybe if I had found you 4 hours ago, but right now you’re treading on very thin ice. Be a good girl for me and I’ll make sure Hizashi and Toshinori don’t punish you too harshly when we get back.”

His large hand was pawing at your clothed sex, black hair draping over your own face as his body curled around you. He slowly rutted against you, excited huffs of air ghosting across the side of your face. You could practically feel his heart vibrating against your back he was so worked up. 

He gently rubbed his stubble against the side of your face, composure slipping a bit. While Shouta absolutely loved how feisty you could be, nothing compared to when you submitted to him. He craved the feeling of your tired body giving in to his ministrations, but he needed more. 

His hand quickly slipped between your pants and underwear, index finger eagerly aiming for your folds. He couldn’t care less that you were sweaty and dirty from the hunt. Right now all he could think about was the softness of your exposed flesh, and much to his delight, the slight wetness to your outer lips. 

“Seems like someone likes being caught more than they let on hmm kitten?”

He couldn't help but taunt you a bit, loving the way you sniffled and whimpered beneath him. You knew when to behave yourself, when to be good for him. Arousal was flooding his veins. The way it felt to rub himself against your perfect ass, even through layers of clothes, had his mind blanking out. 

Your core was warm, even without him dipping a finger inside. Gently he began to delve deeper, gathering up your arousal to spread around. Your pants were starting to bother him a bit, retracting his hands he made quick work of not only your bottoms, but his as well. You remained still for him, opting to sulk like a child as he prepared to ravish you. 

You were too cute like this, and with the lower half of your body on full display he couldn't help but groan in delight. Bringing a hand down he slapped your ass hard, mesmerized by the way your flesh gave way. You yelped in surprise, body rutting forward. His cock twitched as he palmed your sore flesh, cooing softly in apology. You glared back at him, pretty little face set in a pout.

As much as he wanted to slap your ass until you cried for him to stop he restrained himself. Although this was a punishment, he had set you up. He would go easy on you, not forgetting his promise to himself to help you forget the frustration you were feeling right now. 

Whenever you got angry you opted to stop talking, instead waiting for a moment of weakness to strike or quietly accept your fate. Judging by your defeated expression he could safely assume the latter 

Folding himself over you he brought his hand back down to your pussy, thumb working slow circles on your clit while he middle finger delved deeper. Your entrance was a bit tight, but with gentle persistence he worked his way inside. 

Your velvety inner walls clamped down on him. He couldn’t help but rut his aching cock against your bare ass as his mind drifted to the feeling of you clamping down on his arousal instead. Your whines of protest only further spurring on his overwhelming need to be inside you. 

Adding a second finger he began to pump into you with a bit more urgency. Your slick was quickly coating his hand as he hit all the spots he knew would work you up to your orgasm. Groaning in delight he brought his lips to your exposed neck, sucking and nipping at your soft flesh. 

He loved when he could tell you were getting close. Your warm walls would clamp down on him, breathy mewls and moans escaping your soft lips. You were rocking back into him, uncaring of the fact that you were grinding against him as you chased your release. In these moments you abandoned your resolve to fight against him, and he happily took advantage of that. After all, if your body knew what you wanted, surely your mind would catch up one day.

Your moans were more audible now, hands grasping at the forest floor. Your back was arched into him, desperate to use him. So close, you were so close he knew it, and right before you could finish he pulled his hand away. He laughed as you huffed in frustration. 

“Shouta pl-please.” Fuck, he loved it when you begged. It didn’t happen often with how stubborn you were but when it did he knew he had to comply. 

Instead of verbally responding he opted to do what he wanted to all night long. Lining up the tip of his cock to your entrance he groaned at the heat radiating off you. Pumping his hand along his length a couple times to lube himself up with your excess fluid he pushed the tip in. You stilled beneath him, and in one swift movement he fully sheathed himself. 

His mind went blank as you cried out in pleasure, wet walls convulsing around him as your orgasm tore through you. He held still, opting to gently pet you while cooing softly down at you. Before he met you, even with Hizashi, he had never been very vocal during sex. But now he couldn’t stop himself from babbling a bit, praising you for being such a good girl. 

As your body stilled in his arms he continued to plant kisses along your delicate neck. Your soft sniffles made his heart clench a bit, how was it possible for you to be so damn cute? 

“Alright kitten now it’s my turn. No pulling anything stupid, I won’t take long.”

This whole hunt had been one giant tease, working him up in a way he normally wouldn’t allow himself. Pulling out he groaned at the feeling of his cock sliding against you. Moving his hands he grabbed your waist, eyes transfixed on where you were joined. Your back was arched as you braced yourself on your elbows, presenting yourself to him. 

His mind clouded over, blood opting to drag his attention elsewhere. He began to push back in, desperate to feel you surrounding him. Setting a tempo he pulled about halfway out before slamming back in, loving the way your body moved as you bounced off him. 

His hands dug into your supple flesh, possibly leaving bruises. He could feel the oncoming of his own orgasm, the muscles in his lower abdomen pulsating. He was panting, heart racing in his rib cage as his eyes rolled back into his head. He didn’t have the patience to edge himself today, he needed this, needed you.

He loved hearing the way your breath was forced from your lungs when he fully sheathed himself inside you. He knew he was overstimulating you a bit, but the part of him that needed to find his own release didn’t pay that fact much mind. All he could think about was the way it felt to be one with you, lost inside your soft warmth.  

After only a couple more minutes of relentlessly pounding into you he couldn’t hold it back any longer. A wave like sensation rushed through his body as his hips stuttered. He folded over you, wrapping his arms around you as he felt his hot cum rush through his cock and fill your body. The emotions rushing through him as he released into you, the woman he loved, were indescribable.

It didn’t take long for his muscles to relax, euphoria swept away by the need to take a nap washing over him. You had long since stopped crying, remaining motionless beneath him. He wondered what was going through your mind as he held you flush against him.

“Sho-Shouta.” So meek, so quiet. His heart fluttered a bit. “Can we go home now... I want to take a shower.”

Chuckling softly he pulled himself out, groaning a bit at the feeling of overstimulation as your warm walls dragged against him. Leaning away he smiled as his cum leaked out your pussy. 

“Yes kitten we can go home. I’ll make sure to clean you up.”

You groaned in protest, hating when they insisted on washing you. He knew you liked your privacy but Hizashi and Toshinori were still going to want to punish you. He’d keep close by to keep them from being too harsh. 

Pulling up his pants he fished his phone out of his pocket, rolling his eyes at the sheer quantity of missed calls from the two aforementioned. Poor little kitten, it didn’t look like you’d be getting off easy. 

[theintoccabile]

I swear people in this fandom have an easier time sympathizing with Serena than Luke

like yeah again what’s happening with Serena and her kid is sad and messed up but also idk how you all manage to be so passionate about the tragedy of it when Serena has been a supporter and enabler of the worst kinds of child abuse on a level I can barely comprehend

like?? she is one of the people who built Gilead. she was not just fine with having (...stealing...) a child in Gilead, she WANTED her child to grow up the way a child does in Gilead. She went out of her way to make that kind of country a reality and every day witnessed what it did to children (among other people) and was proud of it

it wasn’t like “oh well I live in Gilead so I guess I will have a kid here in this hellhole”, it was “I would hate to live in a country where this isn’t how children grow up”

like idk hard for me to understand the heartfelt takes about a decade long supporter of all kinds of child abuse currently being prevented from acting as a parent. even if the people who took custody are at least as bad as she was at the height of her power.

Yeah her son would be better off with her than them and okay I will buy maybe mayyybe that Serena has Seen The Light and would raise her kid right maybe more or less.

but?? again. boo-hoo, Luke (who could not know the above) had a hand in a long time supporter of child abuse who very recently threatened his 12 or so year old daughter on TV being separated from her kid, leaving aside all the other crimes and human rights violations she committed.

pretty much the least tragic thing to happen in this show ever lmao

[rainydrops]

Day XIII: Artifact

"Are you sure this is alright? You didn't need to rent the place out just for me..." glancing around, the place was dimly lit, a bit too much for my liking if it had been anyone else guiding me around.

But, knowing the curator of this exhibit already put me just a bit at easy--and I was super excited to be looking at such cool trinkets from ages and ages ago.

"I'm sure," they assured me, keeping a hand on my shoulder as we weaved in and out of corridors from display to display. They explained every one in historical jargon I couldn't come close to comprehending, and I mostly could only respond with a half-hearted "Ooh," or "I see". Not for lack of interest, of course--on the contrary, most of the exhibits were fascinating indeed. They were from a recent historical site that had been uncovered somewhere overseas, even if I didn't much remember the location exactly.

Their tone sort of droned, anyway...although I guessed that was sort of customary for historians. I was more keen to look at the artifacts themselves than to listen to their long-winded explanations of the conditions they were found in, what they were thought to be represent, other nonsense from a civilization long gone...

"This one is a bit more...interactive," they broke the fog I hadn't even recognized being in, their hand shifting from my shoulder to my back as their nudged me gently closer to the glittering display in front of us. The glass pane was lifted up, and their hand crept inside before they pulled an amulet out from within. it glittered, even in the dim light, and I felt my gaze immediately drawn to it. Even without touching it, I could practically feel its warmth. I wanted to wear it, in that moment, like it was calling out to me.

I needed it. Desperately.

Their smile might have told their motives if I were paying attention, but I could only stare at the amulet as it dangled between their fingers in the soft light. It swayed, and their hand moved me along the same arc, swaying gently. The air felt warmer, gentler, easier.

"Isn't that much better? You can think more clearly when you watch this...and everything will be even clearer once you have it on. Easy now..." they cooed, bringing the gilded bronze necklace closer and closer as they pushed down lightly on my shoulder. I vaguely felt myself sink to my knees, but even the floor felt warm and soft. All that mattered was the amulet. Not me, not their words, nothing else in the world mattered nearly as much as the beautiful necklace and the absolute craving to feel its power closer.

The moment it was on, the necklace's newest victim went slack in expression, sinking deeper as they stared wordlessly up into the dim lights of the ceiling above. They wore a happy, mindless smile as the curator sat and spoke to them gently, filling them with new instructions. The glint of their own amulet shone under the collar of their shirt as they programmed the newest thrall into absolute helpless joy.

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Trust Me -- Part 2

02/06/2021: Wow, uh, wow. This one got me. Almost started crying at the cheesy ending. I will cringe at it in precisely two months from now. Thank you guys SO much for all the positive feedback of PART 1, it really helped me finish this part. Without you guys, this would have been still sitting in my drafts. There's lowkey a bit of pressure in this actually being GOOD, so I'm sitting here with a bit of Imposter SyndromeTM and crossing everything I can cross that you guys like it. I can't tell whether I went overboard or not, though... I guess that's for you guys to tell me lmao.

Also, these commas can be pried from my very cold, extremely dead, fingers.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! For the first time in almost ever, I'm a bit very nervous to post this -- I hope you enjoy it!!

Tagging: @marshmallow--3 // @yourlocalfrenchie // @rahdaleigh // @sofiewithat /// @iceboundstar // @mythandmagik // @itseivwhore // @pink-polarfox // @missbenzayb // @ct-5445 // @timbreavery // @dacian-assassin // @thepalaceofmelanie // @asilverraven // @huntheimpossible // @eclectic--assassin // @thehistorynut19 // @ta-ka-shi-ma // @roki3chocoa // @fandomsfanman // @le-nottibianche // @bandit-brunsmeier // @starmoji1 // @spocktheestallion // @salty-thembo // @missingfrye // @xdeimos // If you want to be tagged, let me know!!

Warnings: Lots of swearing, a bit of graphic violence, implicit mention of sexual assault (I hope it's not a spoiler to say that this does not actually happen, but the idea is used as manipulation. It's not done well, but I'm blaming that on the character being a horrible liar, instead of me sucking at write arseholes), implied character death.

Pairing: Edward Kenway x F!Reader

Assassin's Creed Mobile Masterlist

Red Dead Redemption 2 Mobile Masterlist

The neighbouring ship was chaotic. The opponents were drunk on victory, so slipping through unnoticed was easy. The hard part was going to be staying undercover until you could free Edward and the rest of the crew without anyone falling casualty. “Strip them of their weapons and take them to the brig!” You heard the Quartermaster yell. Thinking quickly, you moved to Edward; if you knew where his weapons were, escaping could be much easier. People were already pulling out his pistols and cutlasses, fortunately dumping them in your arms. Looking around, you pulled away to hide them in an inconspicuous barrel for later.

You weren’t planning on staying long.

Quickly rejoining the group, you took hold of one of your crew members -- you recognised him as one named Jonah -- at the back of the crowd, keeping your face covered lest they accidentally reveal your identity. You kept your eye on Edward’s tense shoulders the entire time, heading below deck and to the rows of cells at the end of the ship.

As you gently pushed Jonah into the cell, someone slammed the door shut, chucking the ring of keys your way. “Lock ‘em up.” Swallowing, you nodded, feeling uncomfortable under their gaze while turning the key in the lock. Taking them out of your hands, a mop and bucket was shoved in its place. “You’re on cleaning duty, starting upstairs; let’s go.” With one last glance, your eyes scoured for Edward before they all disappeared from view.

----------

Edward

There was this crushing anxiety he just couldn’t shake. It rendered him almost motionless, crouched in the corner of the cell, picking at his sleeves. There was a commotion heading towards them; he was in for company he was not in the mood for.

Heavy footsteps gave away the visitor. “We searched your boat.” His crew parted to clear a view as Charles Marlowe relaxed against the cell bars. “We found your woman.”

Edward’s eyes snapped to Marlowe’s as he clenched his jaw, almost daring him to say more.

With a chuckle and a disgusting grin, he brought out a small knife to clean. “Don’t you want to know where she is?”

“I expect you’d would tell me regardless.”

“I would advise against winding me up, Kenway. I could always take my anger out on her instead.”

It took a second for Edward’s arms to fly through the bars, constricting around Marlowe’s throat. “What have you done with her?”

Although cold metal pressed against his jaw, he didn’t ease up.

“She’s waiting for me very nicely... in my cabin.”

Edward didn’t have to think very hard to infer his meaning.

“I’ll kill you if you touch her. I’ll kill you.” Growling, he held impossibly tighter, for if he was here, he wasn’t there.

“With your actions come consequences, Kenway. And you might not be the one paying for them.”

A dilemma came to mind: delay him to keep him away from you, or risk the consequences of his revenge?

Somewhat luckily, he didn’t need to choose.

Before Edward could comprehend that he loosened his grip, Marlowe slipped out of his grasp. The distraught Captain pressed himself against the bars, anger drenching his expression as he heaved out breaths. His captor laughed. “You’re very good at empty threats, Kenway.”

“It’s not a threat. It’s a promise.” His cold tone streaked through the crew, setting hairs on end. They had never heard their Captain like this before; so angry, so dangerous.

It terrified them.

“That remains to be seen. In the meantime…” With a mocking whistling tune, Marlowe spun on his heels and began to walk away.

“Come back here, bilge rat!” He pulled harshly against the cell door. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

“Then you better stay in line.”

As he disappeared from view, Edward’s emotions overwhelmed him, frustrated tears coming to his eyes. He turned to a solid wall, slamming the side of his fist against it and yelled.

Fear, anger, guilt, and grief echoed around the brig.

Collapsing against the wood, he hid his face in his hands, aiming to either calm himself or hide his inevitable breakdown.

----------

Y/N

“Finish up downstairs.” Nodding affirmatively, you picked up the mop bucket and eagerly headed beneath deck, having to consciously slow down to avoid suspicion. You were glad you were disguised in the uniform of Marlowe’s crew instead of the rags of the common sailors aboard; it would’ve made the job much harder than it had to be.

Keeping a level head, you walked past the cell holding your family and placed the mop bucket against the wall, scanning the deck.

Empty.

Sighing in relief, you realised that you were alone with your crew at last. As you pulled the covering off of your face, you shushed frantically, the cell almost erupting into cheers. You gestured for them to part, eyeing Edward, almost balled up in the corner of the cell. “Hey, Ed,” you whispered, watching as his head snapped up to you, eyes widening.

Scrambling up, he strode to the bars in a second, reaching through the gaps to hold you. “Thank Christ…” he exhaled in relief, bringing your forehead to his lips between the bars. You pulled away after a few moments, sharing relieved glances. “Are you hurt? Did they do anything to you?” he asked, eyes scanning you for any sign of injuries.

“No, no, I’m okay. Are you alright? Did we lose anyone?”

“I’m... fine; I haven’t done a head count yet.”

You didn’t reply, watching as Jonah came up to tap Edward on the shoulder. “Capt’n?”

He turned around, withdrawing his hands as Ryan came into view. “I can’t find my da’.” His voice was barely stable, cheeks stained with tear tracks. For a second, you both exchanged sorrowful glances.

Edward crouched down, ruffling his hair. “He’ll be around, lad. We just have to find him. Maybe he’s escaped and is planning his own rescue mission for us.”

Ryan nodded, wanting to believe him. Meanwhile, Edward stood and brought Jonah close, leaning to whisper in his ear. He withdrew, a willing but uncertain look on his face. Both retreated back into the small crowd.

“What did you tell him?” you asked.

“...That he has to look after Ryan now.”

You squeezed your eyes shut to stave off tears. “Shit.”

His fingers gently grazed your cheek. “Are you sure you’re alright? Does Marlowe know you’re here?”

Frowning, you shook your head. “I wouldn’t have thought so; if he did, I’d be stuck in there with you.”

His expression was nearly unreadable, but you could sense his anxiety. “I saw him come from here a few moments ago. What was he saying?”

“He…” Pausing for a moment, Edward swallowed. “Just Templar bullshit.”

You scoffed at the notion. “Of course he did. Look, I know how to get out of this.”

“I’ll take anything at this point.” Although his tone was sarcastic, you could tell that for the first time, he didn’t know what to do.

“He needs to die.”

Edward froze, brows narrowing, realising your intention. “No, Y/N, no.”

“‘No’ was an option in Nassau, but we don’t have that choice--”

“No, there must be another way -- “

“There is no other way! This is our only chance--”

“Are you hearing me?! He--”

“Do you understand the situation we’re in?!”

“No, Y/N, please--”

“All it takes is--”

“Just LISTEN to me!” He hissed through gritted teeth, grasping your arm to give it a sharp shake to stop you talking over him. The shock threw you into silence. Lowering his voice, he continued. “If you make so much as one mistake, he won’t just kill you; he’ll make you wish you were dead. Please, please, don’t do this.”

You were stunned. You’ve never seen him so adamant about staying your blade. The desperation in his tone threw you off; you’ve never heard him this serious -- this frantic -- before.

Edward grabbed one of your hands in both of his, bringing your knuckles to rest against his lips. “I love you… with everything I have; I can’t lose you. Not if I can help it,” he murmured, closing his eyes. Your heart broke as you watched a tear escape, trailing down his skin.

“Okay, okay.” You rarely saw Edward cry, and when you did, it was usually due to either drinking or laughing. He took a small, shuddering breath, trying to compose himself.

“We wait for Adé. Then we’ll think about Marlowe.”

“Alright, okay. Hey...” you caressed his jaw. “I’m okay. We’ll be okay. Trust me.”

You heard ruckus above the deck. “Someone’s coming.” Both of you broke away like shrapnel, Edward sitting himself on the floor while you mopped, facing the wall.

And that was how things were.

----------

A couple of weeks had passed since the crew was abducted from the Jackdaw. Everyone had been forced to labour on the deck, doing various jobs, from scrubbing floors to adjusting sails to everything in between. Adé was nowhere to be seen; whether he was hidden on deck and still strategising, or God forbid, something worse, you didn’t know.

A few didn’t make it.

Keeping your identity hidden was becoming increasingly difficult as time went on, of both being a woman and lover of the imprisoned Captain. You had, however, been able to gather intel of Marlowe from the crew that despised him. Each day further validated your belief that this man would be much better off dead; the crew have no loyalty except out of fear, and you could work with that.

You understood Edward’s fear, but it would be selfish of you to stand back and not do anything, watching as almost everyone on the ship suffered; if you did nothing, you would regret it for the rest of your days.

One particular morning was extremely hot, extremely dry, and extremely labour intensive. You were almost halfway through your journey, and you knew you were running out of time. Something had to happen, and soon, or you would never make it to the end of the year.

----------

Edward

After the first week, the crew joined the common sailors around the ship, performing average labour over hours. There was barely time to rest, eat, or drink; he could tell that this was wearing him down more than any form of torture.

The sun’s rays beat down on the nape of his neck as midday approached. Orders were to scrub the floor. He had a brush in his hand the size of a polishing brush, sharing a bucket with four other members of his crew. Each time he made eye contact with one of them, he’d give them a reassuring look; they’d all get out of this, he just needed a plan.

Doors were haphazardly flung open, Marlowe revealing himself from his cabin, followed by an entourage of his closest crew. They clumsily made their way across the ship, bumping into those scrubbing the deck, only to send them a look as if it was their fault in the first place.

One of them knocked over a bucket of water, spilling the liquid across the wood. Edward looked up to observe the situation. It belonged to his crew, including Jonah and Ryan. Marlowe stopped, his stare set on the ones kneeling, completely ignoring the real culprit. “You.” He crooked his finger towards Ryan. “Get up.”

With a petrified look on his face, Ryan stumbled to his feet, shaking like a leaf. “It wasn’t--”

Marlowe put his hand up, a warning to shut up. “It was your bucket, was it not?”

“Y-Yes, but--”

“So it was your responsibility, correct?”

“W-Well--”

“It’s a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, boy.”

“... Yes, sir.”

Marlowe turned to call to his second in command. “Get the cat.”

Edward’s heart stopped. By now, the ship had dropped to complete silence. They wouldn’t… he was only a boy. Marlowe was sadistic, but he wouldn’t be that evil, would he?

Before he could stop himself, Edward found himself standing protectively in front of Ryan. The child gripped onto his sleeve as he was pushed behind his Captain by the arm. “Why don’t you give a punishment to someone who deserves it?”

Marlowe held a neutral expression. “You’re right…” With a wave of his hand, arms snaked themselves around Edward’s, pulling him away from the others, restraining his movements.

Edward’s eyes flitted to Ryan for a split second; he was pulled to sit beside Jonah before he gained any more unwanted attention. Marlowe came to stand in front of him, unpinning his cape from around his shoulders. It fell into someone’s arms, who carried it away. Although his limbs were pulled harshly behind him, he held his head high, a hard expression in his eyes.

Undoing his cuffs, Marlowe smirked. “I believe you deserve twenty, in place of that boy…” Without warning, a fist came into contact with Edward’s sternum. If it weren’t for the arms holding him upright, the force would have sent his knees buckling. As he regained his breath, he glared at Marlowe. “Another twenty is in order for disobedience…” Another strike winded him again, this one seemingly worse than before. Keeled over, hair blocking his vision, he almost didn’t notice Marlowe leaning into his ear. “Then, about as many as I deem fit…”

Standing up straight, he shook out his hand. “Get him ready.”

Edward stumbled as he was half-dragged across the deck to the main mast. His chest and face collided with the post, the wood almost burning his skin. His arms were pulled taut above his head, rope quickly entwining itself around his wrists. He gave them an experimental tug, his heart skipping a beat when he found not even an inch of give.

Oh, fuck.

Hands gripped the back of his shirt, swiftly tearing it open. His muscles tensed as the sunlight hit his skin. Closing his eyes, he steeled himself with a breath.

The first strike licked his skin, the force shoving him against the post, ripping open stripes of flesh. Pain shot across his back. Biting a back a groan, Edward clenched his jaw. Sweat trailed down his temples, arms straining against the ropes.

Resting his forehead against the post, he prepared for the next lash.

But the strike never came.

----------

Y/N

Ooh, boy.

You were shocked at yourself for a moment, your hand firmly wrapped around Marlowe’s extended wrist, the cat of nine tails trickling Edward’s blood onto the back of your hand.

“I demand satisfaction.”

Gasps and muttering littered the crowd, and you kept to yourself the true realisation of what you’ve done.

You’ve challenged Marlowe to a duel.

“Don’t…” Edward looked over his shoulder, voice loud enough for only you to hear.

You spared him a side glance, urging him to quiet down.

Instead of the expected anger, Marlowe chuckled. “Alright; who demands it?”

You pulled off your face covering and hat, the sun hitting the skin on your face fully for the first time in two weeks. “Naturally, me.”

He hummed darkly, eyes narrowing with recognition. “Naturally.” He began to unsheathe his sword.

“I thought you were a man of tradition; are pistols not your forte?” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

After a prolonged glance, metal clicked back into its leather hold. “You really don’t know what you’re getting into, my dear.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“... Let’s get this over with.”

Your heart pounded. This was such a stupid move.

But it was also your only move.

Hiding your own fear, you held eye contact with Marlowe. With trembling fingers, you drew your own pistol, gifted to you by Edward from your last birthday. It was very much your lucky charm, and you hoped it wouldn’t fail you now.

“Ten paces, on my count.” You had no idea who the voice belonged to, nor did you have the current emotional capacity to care. Pulling the hammer down on your pistol, you turned your back to Marlowe. A blank was fired, the echoing shot a signal to start moving.

1…

2…

3...

It was almost deadly quiet.

4…

5…

6…

This was stupid, this was a bad idea. You won’t make it.

7…

8--

An unexpected shot rang out. You dropped to the floor, a pain beginning to blossom in your side.

“NO!”

Marlowe had cheated. Internally, you scoffed. Of course he did.

Although it stung, you were surprised at how bearable the pain was, given you just got shot.

Or did you?

You lay still, partly in shock and partly to plan what to do next.

“What are you all looking at? Get back to work!”

“Y/N? Y/N/N!” You heard Edward’s voice crack. “You cheating bastard!”

“Now, now, Kenway. Don’t forget the position you’re in.”

Floorboards creaked as someone approached. Pistol miraculously still in hand, you waited for as long as possible. Just a little longer....

A shadow shaded your face from the sun. Without thinking, you turned, aimed, and shot.

Marlowe stared back, glassy eyed, blood trickling down his nose.

A moment later, he collapsed.

No one dared to move, choosing to stare at the body in front of them, not quite believing that he was dead.

The monster of a man was dead.

After the adrenaline ebbed away, you sighed heavily. “Glad that’s over.” A hand came into view, offering assistance to stand up. You locked eyes with someone who should have made himself known a long time ago. “Adé!” Accepting the help, you smirked. “Great timing.”

You quickly moved to Edward to begin untying the knots around his wrists. “What the fuck were you thinking?!” he exclaimed, exertion clear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for worrying you--”

“Worrying me?” One wrist freed, he deftly moved to the other. “When I saw you lying there, I felt as if I had died!”

You sighed. “I needed to do something, lest you became more bone than back.”

“That was the most stupid plan I’ve ever seen in my life.” His hands free, he paid no heed to his own wounds and immediately tried to inspect yours. “You were so irresponsible--”

Bringing his face to yours, you stopped him talking with a kiss.

He diffused immediately, finally processing that you were in front of him, alive, and Marlowe was the one dead on the floor. Melting into you, the tension in his muscles dissipated, replaced only with relief. He broke apart from you, burying his face in your neck, his arms wrapped around you tightly.

“If the plan worked, it couldn’t have been that stupid,” you remarked.

“I’m so sorry.” His words were mumbled into your shoulder.

“You were looking out for me; I would have done the same if the roles were reversed.” You hugged him back, recoiling when he suddenly flinched in pain. “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

“Shall we just accept each other’s apologies and call it a day?”

You laughed. “That would be good.”

Turning to the hands on deck, you raised your pistol in the air. “It’s over, lads! We can go home!”

You held your side, the pain greatly subsided under the amount of other emotions you were feeling; joy, relief, but also grief. Not for Marlowe, but for the ones that didn’t see this day.

You made a vow there and then; a vow to live your life the way they would have lived.

With joyful, carefree fun.

With the ability to live in the moment.

With gratitude for what you still have that they lost: For some, love, and for others, life.

[rigelmejo]

Comprehensible Input Personal Test

An experiment I may try. Below is the Dreaming Spanish Roadmap for progress (if you study completely with only Comprehensible Input, and the suggestions overlap somewhat with ALG method learning)

I saw it suggested on forums, that for a tonal language you should double the time. (Although when I saw an ALG presentation video, it seemed like 2000 hours was the expected goal for any language based on how many hours kids need for any language so mm. But I'll stick with the "doubling the time" suggestion, because more study is always helpful!)

There's a person documenting their progress in Thai by studying ALG method lessons, they're motivating me. Their updates are very cool to read!

Caveat that: I am NOT going to try to follow the pure Comprehensible Input (or ALG) method. I have done far too much study at this point to start from 0 without it 1. being partly an excuse for me to procrastinate difficult material, 2. Since (at least in Chinese) I already understand enough to watch shows and read (at least some stuff) quite comfortably, it would be limiting to go back to Only learner material with a smaller vocabulary than I actually have. 3. This is something for me to try, I'm not suggesting anyone else do this, and it is absolutely not according to the principles of how to use Comprehensible Input or ALG materials best. I'm very much planning to go against best practices! I'm not suggesting you do, I'm just thinking of documenting the outcome, if I use a mesh of Comprehensible Input combined with what I've already studied.

Chinese: So if level 6, 1000 hours, is being able to watch most native media and read, and get comprehensible input from that... Then I have things to mull over. My Chinese understanding level is at a point where reading without word lookups is doable in most cases, watching many shows is doable without word lookup (but news is significantly harder and I only get half of the points being communicated). I can watch some genres of shows as easily as if I were watching English, looking away, not using Chinese subs, etc. I can listen to a number of (easier) audiobooks (like webnovel ones) and follow the main idea without too much effort (just not always a portion of specific details). So if I were going to say guess what comprehensible input media I could use... I'd put myself on this scale of 600-1000 hours, where I can use materials for native speakers, but intermediate and advanced Comprehensible Input Youtube videos can likely help me with gaps.

(If we are trying to estimate my real study time of Chinese... it's been 4 years or more, I studied an average of 1.5 hours a day, so I've probably studied Chinese for 2190 actual hours. Subtract a good 500 hours for times I took a few months of breaks, and subtract 300 hours for time I spent studying explicitly with grammar books or vocabulary lists, and we've got ~1390 hours I spent reading/watching/listening to Chinese. So the study time I've actually spent reading/listening to/watching stuff I comprehended was probably around 1000 hours or a bit less, since some reading/watching/listening time was spent looking up words more than I would've in my native language English... especially in that first year where I'd explicitly look up a few hundred words each novel. So I think my guess above, of placing me at around 600-1000 hours on that scale of where I'd expect my progress to be, matches my experience pretty well. I understand easier Chinese shows/novels EASILY, I understand easy/intermediate Comprehensible Input chinese youtube videos EASILY once I adjust to the conversational flow compared to scripted stuff, I can read a decent amount of webnovels fine without lookups and I can listen to fiction audiobooks with no lookups and follow the main idea - and am working on improving comprehension of audiobooks as my main goal lately. Of course, against my argument: a pure CI approach would probably still suggest redoing the basics for me, because learning with so many word lookups initially is very against the CI model of 'learn it like your native language.' But for the sake of what I'm testing to see what improves, I'm not going to start from scratch with Chinese.)

(If we are trying to estimate my real study time of Chinese... it's been 4 years or more, I studied an average of 1.5 hours a day, so roughly

So for Chinese, my plan is: listen to Lazy Chinese, BlaBla Chinese and try to fill in some gaps regarding being able to comprehend FASTER (without english translation in my head), to get used to conversational speech (which is much different than shows/fiction). Then also listen to some things I know I understand in Chinese (Guardian audiobook, MoDu audiobook, MoDu drama, some easier audio dramas), which has been my study plan lately anyway, to see how much improvement I get from that kind of comprehensible input that's more around 80-95% understood and at the harder end of what I can still reliably follow the main idea of but not necessarily all details. Then check my improvements in ~500 hours. As I'll either move closer to that "1000 hours" progress, or the "1500 hours" progress. (And if tonal languages take twice as long to see improvement, I should see some partial increases in comprehension and comprehension speed even if it's not to the next level).

Japanese: What is my current level, messy - that's what. I'd probably (generously) place myself between level 3-4, understanding Intermediate level Comprehensible Input youtube video lessons. I have explicitly studied 3000+ words using non CI methods (anki, memrise, and now glossika). I do NOT think I know 5000 words, so I would not be level 5. I can, however, watch some materials for native japanese speakers and follow the main idea of what's going on (it feels exhausting sometimes, but I can do it - I can watch Samurai Cat in only japanese, Criminologist Himura and Novelist Alice - I'm familiar with crime genre plots so that helps, japanese musicals based on video games or novels I know, simple slice of life romance jdramas or anime, Ranma 1/2, can play Yakuza games or Kingdom Hearts games in japanese and follow the main ideas going on fine). So I can do some things in the level 5-6 range. How many hours have I actually studied? I studied Japanese on and off for like 7 years? Let's be conservative and say only 3.5 years count (since I took 2 years off, while focusing hard on Chinese initially, and I spent some years studying japanese for 3 months on then off then on etc). Let's say I only studied 30 minutes a day on average, because while some weeks I did good and studied 7-14 hours... I studied way less than I should have on average. So I studied for 3.5 years and .5 hours on average, ~638.75 hours studied. (That would put me at level 5 on this chart, which may explain why I can watch shows to a degree, and play video games/read in games to a degree - especially if I have some prior context for the plot). But in real hours immersing... hahahaha. Of the 630.75 hours studied, I spent much less time actually just reading or listening to japanese. I spent the bulk of my time: reading grammar books, word lists, doing anki/memrise/glossika, doing audio flashcards with japanese/english, or watching a show/reading a manga/reading a novel and looking up WORDS.

I spent maybe 10-20 hours every several months, playing video games in only japanese (and I didn't look up words because I'm LAZY). I spent maybe 5-10 hours every few months trying to read, with no word lookups, but I was relying HEAVILY on hanzi I knew from chinese to guess stuff. And I only spent maybe 20 hours TOTAL on watching either lets plays or shows in japanese without looking words up. So being generous? I maybe spent 200 hours of actually engaging with general comprehensible input (material where I could follow the main idea without word lookups - not specifically learner made lessons). That would place me closer to level 3 on the chart above, which I agree with: when I watch Comprehensible Input youtube LESSONS, it's the intermediate level videos on Comprehensible Japanese that I find easiest to understand while still providing me some NEW stuff to pick up in each video (or at least, new stuff to get better at comprehending quickly without consciously thinking about).

So my plan for Japanese: I will have a chance to check the chart's levels compared to hours studied. I will attempt to watch 150 hours of Comprehensible Japanese (youtube channel), and then another 150 hours if I meet the first goal. I may watch other things in Japanese, but it won't count for the goal. I want to see if I see a noticeable improvement in what I understand after 150-300 hours.

I will focus most of my time on: continuing Glossika Japanese (because damn it I WILL finish the whole course and rate it), and trying to get to 150 hours of Comprehensible Input Lesson videos in Japanese.

To a lesser degree I'll focus on Chinese. As that is what I have been doing. Counting time spent is easy when it comes to the audiobooks...they're like 50-176 hours each.

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Note: I should mention, Comprehensible Input - and ALG - are very specific TYPES of comprehensible input. In CI and ALG, comprehensible input means specifically materials where a learner can comprehend all of the main ideas BASED ON context the teacher provides. This is often visuals - hand gestures, expressions, images - so a learner with the language experience expected for the given lesson, can completely comprehend all main ideas because of how the lesson is made. I tend to refer to these types of materials as comprehensible input LEARNER materials - or materials made for learners. These are typically specific youtube channels, with lessons intended for learners of various levels, designed to be comprehensible. These types of lessons are typically designed to be 95-100% comprehensible, which means you should be able to understand ALL main ideas and some details if you are at the learning level the lesson is suggested for. Some learners who like a challenge, may personally decide to watch comprehensible input lessons aimed at a higher level than them, which may be 80-95% comprehensible to them - so they'll understand some main ideas or all, some details or occasionally catch a detail, but not all.

I am using that definition of comprehensible input interchangably, in my notes on this post, with the other broader definition of the term. The other thing people are describing, when they use the term comprehensible input, is the more general meaning - some kind of input that the specific person can comprehend the main idea of. So in this broader case: Daomubiji/The Lost Tomb is NOT designed to be comprehensible to non-native speakers, it is just a chinese drama. But for me personally, because I know a lot of words used in The Lost Tomb and I'm familiar with the plots of supernatural horror/mystery/tomb raiding type stories, I can comprehend the main idea of what's going on in the drama scenes and I can understand a lot of the individual sentences. So The Lost Tomb is comprehensible input to me specifically based on what I already understand, but it is not comprehensible input to a beginner and may not be comprehensible to Another Learner unless what they understand overlaps with things I understand. When using regular material for native speakers as comprehensible input, learners will generally try to find something they can understand the main idea of (usually at least 80-95%), and if they are looking for less of a challenge then they'll look for material they understand almost entirely (95-100%). I'm pulling these percentages out randomly so don't get too hung up on their specifics, I'm just trying to compare roughly how it's going to feel for you the learner.

The specifics I DO know, are when reading in your NATIVE language, if you read something you understand 95-98% (depends on the source) of then it feels easy and you pick up any new words in your native language quite effortlessly. If you read something in your native language that you understand 90-94% of, it tends to feel HARD and in you often try to look words up to ease your discomfort, and you can TRY to guess the new words instead of looking them up but it will simply not feel as comfortable as if you read something easier. If you read something in your native language that you only understand 80-90% of? Some readers can make guesses, and grasp the main idea enough to continue reading. Other readers find this difficulty too hard and cannot grasp the main idea or make any guesses - it depends on the individual reader. Lower than 80% comprehension of a text and most people can't grasp the main idea... maybe just a stray piece of information here and there. (I read up a LOT on reading extensively and intensively in one's native language). So if engaging with a language you're learning is similar... then material you find comprehensible will generally need to at minimum be something you can grasp the main idea of (whether you use word-lookups to Make something harder become more comprehensible to you is up to your study style), so I would guess that for most people the bottom threshold of what you'd use for comprehensible input will be something you understand 80-95% of. Since most people will not be able to grasp a main idea, if they understand less than that. (I would also guess, that as beginners, whether you use Comprehensible Input Lessons or just pick materials you can comprehend the main idea of, a lot of material will fall in this uncomfortable 80-95% understood level just because you know few words and are often relying on visuals FOR most/all of your understanding.

Anyway, in summary: Comprehensible Input Lesson material is DIFFERENT from media that an individual uses as comprehensible input. An individual may choose to use Peppa Pig, The Little Prince, Three Body Problem, the news, or pretty much anything as comprehensible input for themselves personally... if they understand enough of it to follow what's going on (whether from vocabulary or visuals or both), and guess some of the unknowns. Whereas Comprehensible Input Lessons are material specifically designed to be 95% comprehensible or more for the majority of the learners the lesson is made for - and even if the learner knows none of the words in a comprehensible input lesson, SO much visual context is provided that a learner should still be able to follow most of the main ideas.