#but more importantly fickle. and cruel. i will not do that to these people; not for you. not for anyone else. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

curiosity-killed · 3 years ago

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Lang Qianqiu deserves more love goddammit: a post, unfortunately

This brought to you by the wonderful @veliseraptor & @/yuer on Twitter but also mostly out of spite and the fact that it’s preventing me from writing a very dumb poke-the-bear post abt the entire weird social media culture around The Minors

As always ✨SPOILERS!! SPOILERS EVERYWHERE✨

So first off: when I hit the scene where lqq confronts xl and screams “I will never be like you” I sat up in bed, did a little shimmy of delight, and hissed “fuck yes” at like 2 AM so. Now you have a preview of wtf this train wreck will be

1 ) lqq is a good character

We don’t get a ton of time with lqq because tgcf is 87 side characters running across stage with The Most Interesting Concept constantly one-upping each other before vanishing. But what we do get is, I think, enough to make a pretty compelling story: Lang Qianqiu is a kind and generous prince who is also the sole survivor of the bloody massacre of his entire family, committed by the people dearest to him (both in his belief that Gusohi Fangxin did it and in the reality of An Le’s involvement), who goes on to peacefully lead his fractious nation into a peaceful reign before he ascends as a powerful enough (aka beloved and worshipped enough) god to be ranked among the top heavenly generals. That’s like. Pretty fucking classic protagonist vibes right there.

And, as usual with mxtx’s characters, we get a lot more than this lovely little backstory. In his interactions in canon, lqq is capable of great grief and anger; he is willing to sacrifice himself if it means avenging his murdered family; and he simultaneously holds both great hatred and great respect for his old teacher. And, of course, he winds up raising and taking care of his enemy’s son which shows a remarkable depth of compassion and emotional messiness that I find terribly compelling. He struggles with a simplistic view of justice that is supported by lies told to “protect” him and that is uprooted by the truth and forces him to try to make sense of the world without the guardrails that others installed around him (looking at you mister fangxin sir).

Also I’m stealing my own tweets bc I’m Right but:

*pulls up single barstool to lqq is a good character table* I think it’s interesting & Says Things abt the continued relationship btwn lqq & xl that lqq *didn’t* recognize xl, implying that he left fangxin’s mask in place even when he went to kill him

Like here is the man who killed his family & best friend, who left him abandoned in bloodshed on his 17th bday—& here is also the man who saved his life, who taught him, who lqq looked up to & wanted to be like

Even when lqq *does* recognize xl, he still has so much respect for him paired with that hatred that it’s honestly rlly tragic? Like man. There’s so much grief in lqq’s repeated demands for a duel & insisting it’s fine if xl kills him as long as he doesn’t hold back

*pats lqq pompom* this bb is so sad. And so much more like his teacher than either of them seem to realize or necessarily want

Despite being a pretty minor character, lqq gets a lot of complexity and nuance! Look at this child trying to be grown up while desperately turning to his old master for guidance and “the truth”! Look at him! Be sad!!

2 ) lqq is an excellent parallel to xl

Okay stealing my own tweet again don’t look at me I yell the same shit everywhere

Xl didn’t want lqq to become like him (self-sacrificing, vengeful, alone) but lqq not only became alone, chasing vengeance, & willing to sacrifice himself for revenge—he also became kind, open-minded, & remorseful!! & he still clearly respects xl @ novel end 🙃🙃

We all know hc’s “they’re not very alike at all” and yeah sure baby go support your man but narratively, there’s a lot of importance given to cycles, parallels, and foils in mxtx’s writing and most explicitly (compared to mdzs, haven’t read svss) in tgcf. For example, *gestures at beefleaf, gestures at Xianle Trio vs Wuyogn Crew, gestures at Xie Lian & Jun Wu’s whole uh. Deal.* And while I’d argue xl and lqq are part of a triumvirate rather than a pair, we’re not including mister three-face in this conversation so just looking at xl and lqq:

Both adored and sheltered crown princes

Both taught by a guoshi who was seeking to prevent the repetition of their own tragedies and in their efforts, lied/omitted information and failed to protect their charge from tragedy

Both were betrayed* by their closest friends

Both are the last living members of their respective royal families

Both caught the interest of supernatural beings from a young age

Etc etc I’m getting v bored and distracted writing this so moving on

Most importantly to me, we have their betrayal by a very close and adored mentor and how they react. The confrontation I mention at the start of this shitshow is really imo one of the most important scenes in the novel because it a) illustrates the differences in xl and Jun Wu and b) sort of gives you a preview of how xl ultimately wins

So a) Jun Wu and Xie Lian both take a talented, marked-for ascension young prince under their wing. Jun Wu sees himself in the boy and obsesses over shaping him into Jun Wu’s own image in the belief that this will make him the perfect heir. Jun Wu pushes his chosen heir into situations where Xie Lian is repeatedly harmed in an effort to show that the common people are fickle and cruel and don’t deserve his compassion and care.

Meanwhile, Xie Lian is reluctantly roped into mentoring his prince due to his inability to stand aside when he feels he could do something to prevent hurt or injustice befalling another (simultaneously his great strength and great weakness! God I love him). Xie Lian tries to teach his student to believe in and care for the common people and not to sacrifice himself (see: flashback convo re:taking the force of the sword strike into his own body).

When Xie Lian refuses to bend in the shape Jun Wu demands, Jun Wu bashes his head into the wall. When Lang Qianqiu cries “I will never be like you!”, Xie Lian laughs and says “Good!”.

B) this of course feeds directly into foreshadowing! Like Lang Qianqiu’s bold words, xl ultimately refuses to become like his mentor and remains defiant even when it would stop him from being hurt. Xl beats lqq and says so what if I tricked you, so what if I lied, I still won. Naturally, xl beats Jun Wu not through standard swordplay but by using a trick he learned while forced to busk and wander the earth alone and unlucky for centuries.

…okay so I have fully forgotten what I was actually saying here! Anyway!

Like Xie Lian, Lang Qianqiu spends a time consumed with the need for vengeance, hunting his enemy and rejecting the heavens. And like Xie Lian, he winds up caring for his enemy’s “son” and trying to both comfort him and maintain what’s left of Qi Rong’s life force despite having previously been hellbent on destroying him—bc he sees the impact it has on another person. In the end, he even gives a gift to Xie Lian—his mentor, his role model, and the one who killed his father—that was once given to him as a symbol of unexpected kindness. Sound familiar?

But, importantly, and contradictory to what I have been yelling abt but whatever it’s 12:30 am, Lang Qianqiu is not a direct mirror of Xie Lian but a closing of a vital loop in the story. Lqq is very similar to xl (I will die on this hill!! Only I won’t bc I’m stronger than y’all and will keep swinging these pots and pans) but bc xl tries to do better and keep lqq from suffering the way xl has, lqq is able to have a gentler and more optimistic path forward. He’s proof that even a small act of kindness or even kindness to only one person still matters and has a ripple effect that can’t be seen when you’re in the middle of it—a thread started with xl giving the coral pearl to Lang Ying and closed with Lang Qianqiu returning the pearl to Xie Lian.

So I have no idea if any of this is coherent or compelling but I meant to be asleep two hours ago and the points are:

A) Lang Qianqiu is good actually

B) parallels!!!

C) look ive already started another wip about Lang Qianqiu and Xie Lian and I didn’t want this but no one else wrote it so now I have to so pls just accept this as a warning

*sort of air quotes around this for Xie Lian bc frankly Mu Qing was right & Xie Lian kicked feng xin out BUT on the other hand, it was experienced as a betrayal and we also again have all of Jun Wu’s shit so it evens out

#should I wait and proofread and edit this tomorrow? yes.#am I doing that? no <3 #idk what to tag this as #uhhh #tgcf spoilers #lang qianqiu #I don’t think this can reasonably be called meta #since I am unsure if it is even readable #tgcf #long post

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life-rewritten · 4 years ago

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TRUE BEAUTY; TRUE TRAUMAS AND UNSETTLING REGRESSIONS

The anger, the anguish, and upset I feel from the last moments of episode 10 are unspeakable. I can not believe how flawed and disgusting some of the parents are in this show. And I'm not particularly eager to write when I'm emotional and entirely overtaken by anger and sadness, but I also wanted to address immediately because this essay isn't about the love triangle. I couldn't give a hoot about the love triangle; I don't care what side people are on, because I think it's ridiculous that, that's what people came out of this week's episodes and focusing on. Like really, we're still doing this Suho vs Seojun nonsense, like make it make sense? Like no one is perfect, no one is a monster, all of them are just characters and yes Suho is problematic, Seojun also is, Jukyung this week was even more so, everybody likes to focus on their bias and forget that it's not that deep, it's okay to call out Suho on his mistakes but to sit there and fangirl about Seojun as the best hero boyfriend or whatever, when this episode had so much more depth to it, that's ridiculous. Anyway everyone is free to have their own opinions, but I can't believe that this tag is still full of Suho hate, absolutely absurd. Back to the actual focus of this essay, what can I say True Beauty has always been about PTSD, trauma and the pain and suffering of our main characters, how that has shaped them, changed their mindsets on themselves, hindered them from growth, love and happiness. In Episode 9 and 10 all our characters with masks apart from Seojun who just kept growing regressed and fell apart because of past reminders of their traumas. Let me explain more as we get into it.

First of all, one of the most critical vital themes of this episode is about Secrets, especially how secrets can cause disconcert, miscommunication and chaos. All of the characters hold some kind of secret from their respective partners, family, friends, etc., and in hiding these secrets, they lose their positive attributes because of how stressed they are by the secrets, how ashamed they feel from the secrets and how afraid they are about what the reveal of the secrets would cause. Most importantly, we see Suho, Soojin and Ju Kyung spiral into regression because of the consequences of their masks and secrets.

Ju Kyung: A flashback to the past

Truthfully I was very peeved of by Ju Kyung these two episodes, but I mean it's evident that this was going to happen as mentioned before, Ju Kyung has severe PTSD from her past with bullying and suffering because the world made her feel inadequate and worthless because of what she lacks. Although Kyung ends up with someone who completely sees her for who she is, is supportive and by her side completely, Kyung can't help but question this blessing as a curse. This is what self hate, and self-deprecation does, immediately she receives something good for her, Kyung starts to withdraw in fear because some part of her can't believe she deserves to be happy and satisfied with Suho. Now, as I said, I was annoyed, but also I saw her reasons loud and clear and I understood them because I related to them as well. Let's first look at the situation that occurs to cause her to spiral.

Her secret is that she's dating Suho. Pause. Now at first she's hesistant because of the fear of bullying and being noticed and being pushed into the spotlight because of his reputation. However, because of him being him, taking care of her, making her feel brave and loving herself (he does so much to show her she's okay being her self), she decides she doesn't care if the secret is out. Unfortunately for Kyung, another secret is revealed; Soojin her new best friend someone, who she's so close to has feelings for Suho. In fact, she also has really fascinating and important reasons for why she believes Suho should be hers. Now, this is what truly causes Kyung's trauma to appear again, and she becomes a mess of emotions because she has spiralled back into self-hate and self-deprecation. Let me explain.

Losses and Fears

In order to understand why Kyung's trauma is actually more profound than it seems because it does feel quite dramatic and unimportant with the reveal of other people's secrets and situations, her crying about Suho not understanding her and why she's struggling seems really overdramatic and not needed. But let me take you back to episode 1, Kyung has been in this situation before, and this situation led her to want to take her life. Let's review

In episode 1, Kyung was confident and happy in her self; she had a crush on a guy who made her smile, comfortable, and one of the people who paid attention to her and cared for her. Now this guy she had feelings for, as she confessed; she discovered he had feelings for another person, someone more prettier, popular and matched for him as people put it. This led to her confession with this guy bringing out the worst side of him; it led to her also losing her best friend who she relied on because she went to the popular girl out of fear, it led to her being taunted and broken by people making her feel like how dare she even think she could confess. You have to realise what they're saying to her, one she's not worth having a guy pay attention to her because of her looks, two she shouldn't try even to get someone's attention because the right person will find that person and they'll realise their mistake in associating with her, three, friendship and people are fickle, and she'll always be alone if she tries to do what she wants.

So back to our situation, Kyung has finally found a safe space. The beginning of episode 9 she reveals one of her secrets (part of her growth) to Soojin who completely protects and stays by her side. Soojin becomes the best friend she could ever have, she relies on her and is happy because of her. So she's regained a new best friend, but also she's found, love. A guy has thoroughly chosen to be with her despite her looks and whatnot (she thinks), this guy is a complete package, he's a prince, he's too good to be true, he protects, he's warm, and he makes her feel safe. (Just like the other guy did), lastly, she's also now found a place with her peers, she's no longer looked down on, and everyone likes her. There's a lot in her mind at stake if she chooses to reveal to Soojin the truth. It just makes her vulnerable, and it makes her more likely to lose everything, she finally regained by wearing her mask. It makes her return to that mindset in episode 1, where she felt she was worthless, and useless, a burden, and she should take her life. So her trauma is ingrained in her and causes her to spiral into self-doubt, fear, and hate just because she's gone through this before.

Lies and Masks

Now the past situation made her feel one thing; people are fickle. No matter how much Suho is here for her and says he wants her, his love is fickle. It can change, he just needs to find the right person, the smarter person, the prettier person, the more affluent person who matches him. Soojin is that. But even more from what Soojin is saying to her, Suho is just exactly like how he is with Kyung. He's protective, he's apparently warm, and he goes out of his way to make Soojin feel safe when he doesn't do that for anyone. In her head, he just hasn't realised he wants her the same way he wants Kyung cause she makes him care. And we all know what happened when someone else found another opportunity where the girl of his dreams wanted him, the cruel words he said, the way he pushed her away, Kyung feels like Suho has every right to do the same because she feels like she's not in his league. Because people; her mum, her bullies, her ex-friends, even strangers have made her feel like she's not meant to be perfect for him because she's dumb, ugly and has nothing to offer apart from makeup. And that's just painful and heartbreaking. What is she to do in this situation, losing Soojin is already painful because that's someone who she also holds in high regards in her life, someone who she depends on as a friend.

But it's not just that. As I said, she believes people's love and care for her is fickle. Actually, Soojin is proving her right without her knowing, Soojin isn't being a good friend. She's going behind the scenes to manipulate Kyung, making her feel listless knowing she's dating Suho. But the issue is Soojin also knows her without her mask, her deepest fears, her deepest secret, she has a weapon if Kyung tells her she's dating Suho. If Soojin switches, Kyung reverts back to her episode 1 self where the whole school sides with the popular girl, and she reveals the truth about how she looks without makeup. She loses not just her best friend but also her new safe space and she regresses back into the girl on the rooftop broken and exhausted of being alive.

Real vs Fake

And that's the painful thing because the reason why Kyung believes people are on her side is because of her mask of makeup and beauty, Suho thinks he likes her because she is pretty with her makeup at least, Soojin became her friend because she felt she was different and prettier, and people in the school rate her high because she's pretty. It's all about how much her mask has helped her be reborn as she said to Selena. But because she knows her mask isn't real, these people's feelings, and loyalty, friendship also isn't real, she has to keep up this facade to keep it accurate, and to stay in this lie she's created as long as she's safe, happy and able to walk around freely being her self. Something people refused her to do before because she had no right to be satisfied being ugly and dumb. So you see it's actually genuinely traumatic and painful what she's dealing with.

However, the painful thing about the fickleness of feelings is that Kyung has Suho and Suho has been in love with her and has been consistent with his care for her from the time he knew her without her mask. Since they were kids. Suho spent the whole episodes being grateful that he had her as his girlfriend, wanting to show her to the world, wanting to be with her, and Kyung's need to keep secrets was pushing his feelings, and his fears and his worries aside because she was more focused on prevention and protection. Now Suho doesn't care for other people or see other people the way he sees Kyung, for him Soojin is barging into his life without needing to be there, he told her this, but he doesn't see it as a big issue to tell Kyung she's there because she's not important. But Seojun is important, Seojun has already told him how he feels for Kyung, and Kyung seems pretty reliant and close to Seojun who keeps crossing the line sometimes (like coming to her house and staying when her boyfriend is there, competing and what not) this is what causes him to get agitated and tell her the way he knows how.

He's had no parental care, no training, no nurturing to know what's wrong and right, he's been forced to deal with his issues on his own, and he isolated himself from people, we can see he struggles with relationships, and he's trying to navigate it. So it's not okay for him to act possessive and controlling over who she should be with, but it also makes sense with his character when he doesn't know how to show emotions appropriately, and he's jealous and worried because she's being happy and close with Seojun in one corner and avoiding his calls and him in the other. It doesn't make sense. This is what I was peeved off at her for. Both Kyung and Suho are in the wrong in this situation, not just Suho.

Speaking of Suho, let's talk about this episode, his secrets as Leo and the reveal of how Seoyeon got set up.

Suho; A memory of regrets

Now the frustrating thing about this situation is; I can't fathom humans that do this, I can't understand how cold and heartless someone can be that he drives someone to take their life, and he still acts nonchalant and cold about that person because he doesn't care about rookies. Suho's father is incredibly disgusting as a human, and I completely can't stand him. The reveal that Seoyeon's demise was because he wanted to cover up a dating scandal, his son's best friend, who his son is literally suffering PTSD because he believed he was the reason his friend jumped. It's so disgusting when you think about it. This episode does an excellent job in showing us how much Suho has struggled with emotions and life because of his father's reputation, personality, and upbringing. And that's why I don't understand how people can come into this episode and come out with hate for Suho. Make it make sense.

The first thing episode 9 shows about Suho, which was actually foreshadowing the final conflict in episode 10 is his lack of a fatherly figure despite the fact he had a father. We see him interact with his father when he goes to have dinner with Soojin's own disgusting family, and we realise this is all his father does for him. He makes little quips about why he and Suho can't spend time together, and we all know Suho holds resentment at his father for cheating and sleeping with women, but also the trauma he had from dealing with paparazzi because of his father's fame, and the fact his father was barely in his life to show him emotional support and care. This is even worse when you realise again why Seoyeon got set up because his father wanted to protect his reputation, to sleep with someone, and because he didn't care about people's emotions and wellbeing.

Warmth and Comfort

Now the only thing that helped him deal with his father at first was Seoyeon and Seojun; it's making me cry again. The thing that got him through his tough upbringing was his friends, they brought purpose through music (another secret he's Leo), they brought happiness and care through friendship, and they brought comfort through their presence. They were loyal, close, and ready to help each other no matter what. His father took that away from him. Not just took that away from him but broke his mindset about how he views himself, damaged his relationship and trust with people, and pulled him into a spiral of self hate and self deprecation and regrets because he set Seoyeon up. How messed up can someone be? It's even worse because he knows he's the reason why Suho lost his friend, and he still had the guts, the confidence, the heart to plagiarise the person he ruined's song. Even not knowing that his son is the one he's plagiarising from. His father took it all from him. He made Suho think he's a burden, his reputation is a curse, and he's doomed to be alone to protect people away from him. It's funny because this is how Kyung also feels in her own regression. Both Suho and Kyung believe that they shouldn't be worth interacting with people because they're burdens and problematic for just being born. For Suho it's being born into his family, for Kyung it's being born with her looks and brains. It's incredibly heartbreaking and frustrating.

That's why it's even more painful because episode 9, Suho gets to stay in a lie for a while with Kyung's father staying with him, showing him the warmth, care and support he didn't have with his father. That's why we got that scene; it was to make you compare how different Suho's father is to him, compared to a flawed father like Kyung who's a headache but is also a good source of comfort and love. Suho finally got to feel that care that he was lacking. But still, Suho's father's coldness and heartlessness also shadow to let us know why Suho is the way he is when he has a go at Kyung and tells her to stop hanging out with Seojun; when he is posessive and protective over her without listening to what she's saying. He hasn't had a significant role model/ influence to look up to. He also became like his father on the surface and withdrawn from emotions because he doesn't receive that. It's honestly upsetting. I am so angry at Suho's father.

Regrets and Resent

But let's talk about the regression. Suho finding out his father is the one who caused Seoyeon's demise. First of all, just think about how much Suho has suffered the past ten episodes because of this issue, he's had PTSD, actual PTSD, panic attacks, depression, anxiety, isolation, just because of this issue, because Seojun told him repeatedly he was the reason for why Seoyeon jumped. Because his reputation could not save Seoyeon, because he didn't answer the phone because of his callousness and also because he fought with the very reason for why this happened; his father.

Seojun made Suho feel like he was a monster, and he was never going to be any different because his father was his father. And the thing is, this has been going for a long time, Seojun kept showing up in Suho's life ensuring he never got to be happy (at the beginning not now), he never got to feel worthy of peace, love, friendship because of what he did to Seoyeon. In a way, if you actually think about Seojun's role in Suho's life for a while, he's been like the bullys who ensured Kyung didn't feel happy being her self the way she was because of how she looked. Now he's not as bad because he's not doing it purposely with that intention of psychological harm and breakdown, because he also doesn't think Suho feels any guilt or issue with Seoyeon's demise. But it's pretty messed up that the person everyone is hailing to be this perfect specimen was literally playing the same roles as the bullies you claim to hate in Suho's life.

Like I keep repeating all these characters are flawed, have made mistakes because they're human, but the hate and the bias towards some of them is insane and makes no sense to me.

But now Suho has entirely as Kyung went back to a flash to the past, he's spiralled again into self hate, self deprecation and trauma because he found out the truth. If he's already been struggling with not answering the phone to help Seoyeon; imagine how much of a monster he'll feel because it's his dad who set Seoyeon up to fail. Imagine the pain and suffering, the self-hate, the same things Seojun kept telling him will keep repeating in his head, his reputation hurts people, his dad hurts people, and his lifestyle hurts people. He shouldn't be loved, have friends, or have people around him because he doesn't deserve that when they can end up like Seoyeon. All of his bottled down secret; self-hate is now released because the reason is connected to him from the start, it was his father. So Kyung and Suho found themselves with their masks unveiled, broken and scared and terrified about the consequences of choosing to be happy and free. Now, both of them hold this burden and weight making them feel like they don't deserve to want to be happy, in love and confident in what they deserve because of what society has done to them. And that's insane.

Soojin- A journey of a villain

Before I stop, we also need to speak about Soojin and her regression. Her regression is very fascinating and upsetting. I have been on edge about her character, and it was excruciating to see her become manipulative, sly and a full second lead this episode. But what can I say. It was going to happen. Soojin's secrets revealed this episode to Kyung is about the abuse she suffers, we also see a snippet again of her fathers sexist, heartless mindset about controlling her to ensure she makes the grades. We also see her regress back to hand washing and self-harm because of the news that Suho is dating Kyung. Now, her mindset in the last episodes have been noticing the warmth, and comfort Suho brings into her life. There's no one else who sees her, knows her, and can protect her without her mask. Suho has known her for ten years. They've been each other's support system to deal with their family, now for Suho, he cut the importance of her presence in his life because he pushed everyone away after, but for her, Suho has been a consistent person to rely on.

A safe space

Kyung showing up and making Suho open and caring made her feel fear and anxiety that the only source of happiness and warmth was being taken away from her. Suho is the only thing that makes her breath, everything else is a mask that makes her feel suffocated, even her friendships; she's not been her real self with them, she's been a perfectionist. Even her revealing her truth to Kyung this episode wasn't for friendship but for emotional manipulation, and it wasn't right. Like Kyung, Soojin regresses because she's afraid to go back to who she has to be without Suho's presence, which is protection, warmth and care compared to her actual home, cold, harsh and volatile. She had to latch onto something to stay sane and to stop breaking down. Suho, unfortunately, is what she latched onto. And it is a regression on her part because Kyung is her best friend, she's emotionally manipulating and hurting her best friend to make her self feel good and get what she wants.

Still, she's not even getting what she wants because Suho isn't going to pay attention to her apart from protecting her from her father as someone should do. Soojin has been a girls girl, supportive, protective, and kind to everyone she meets but now she's regressed to being petty, conniving and mean to her own friends because she can't lose her own safe space. Kyung regressed not to lose her safe space and for Soojin her safe space became Suho. Her regression is really unsettling because how far would she go to keep her safe space, and how far will she sacrifice Kyung's wellbeing and emotions for her own gain. She's dangerous because she knows Kyung's secret, she can unload the truth about Kyung pettily and get some kind of one up on her, which is sad because she's slowly regressing into those bullies that made Kyung's life hell.

Volatile Mindsets

In fact, she shadows like I said the popular girl in episode 1, she wants to get her way, and she feels slighted by Kyung taking it away from her. Also her self esteem, her ego is being bruised because she's meant to be the one for Suho as society keeps telling her, she's the prettiest, the smartest, his equal, why would he choose Kyung who is so far not that close to her level in any way. These are the kind of thoughts that happens when trauma makes you regress. Whilst Suho and Kyung are regressing into self-hate, and self deprecation Soojins regression is the opposite direction, it's regressing into self privilege and self-obsession, it's unfortunate.

There's so much more about this episode that we can discuss like I said everyone has a secret, but when it comes to these three, their secrets and unfortunate reveals causes them to spiral into a whirl of self-hate and pain, trauma and suffering. This has been building up for a while because their mindsets have been shaped and made this way because of all the hurts and attacks by society to them, not just society that affects them this way; with these three family affects them this way, Kyung's mum, Suho's dad, and Soojin's dad their nonchalant, and cold attitudes towards their children cause them to feel unstable and worthless, and also friends also causes them to spiral this way, For Kyung, Soojin has brought back a lot of fear and anxiety about where her life is going, and Seojun's past problematic actions have returned along with Suho's guilt to make him also spiral into self-hate and regret. Kyung, Soojin's best friend, has caused her to lose her safe space. These characters have been pushed into this by people they thought they could rely on, and that's what painful.

Anyway, if anyone wants to know my opinions on this love triangle, I appreciate Seojun he's a great second lead. Still, he's not the one for Kyung or the right person as people keep trying to say, he and Suho are still equal on terms with who she should be with. The person she cares about is Suho; the person she loves/wants is Suho. She's not thought of Seojun in that way so respect it. There is so much more going on in this show than this love triangle, so much more to discuss and fight for, each character is human and makes their mistakes, but they're all so understandable and relatable, and the pain they suffer is just insane, the psychological trauma they all hold is too much to bare, and I really hope they find their way out of this. Because right now, Suho is not going to be okay, and Kyung is in danger of her past finding her. I'm scared for them so much. This stuff may seem overdramatic and chaotic but with trauma and pain, and self-hate and psychological distress, it's not easy to overcome emotional abuse, trauma and mindsets that make you feel you're not meant to be alive, and all these characters are going through that. And it's so painful. Let's hope we find a way out of this: love triangle or no love triangle.

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #kdrama #lee suho #im jukyung #han seojun #cha eunwoo #moon ga young #cwg #january

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gemlinz · 4 years ago

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Fulcrum ch. 1 - Meeting (Levi x f!Reader)

Summary: It was a cruel world, she knew. She also knew better than to ask for more than her lot: being a full time barmaid and a part time thief. She helped where she could, bitterly accepted where she could not. Feared the monsters lurking outside the walls. But still - being near him, taking in his strength, his resolve - she couldn't help but hope for more. For herself. For him. For humanity. Warnings: Swearing, Blood

| CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | Read on A03

As far as missions go, Levi supposed this one didn’t suck as bad as some of the ones he’d been on.

He was covered in significantly less viscera for one. For two...

Actually, watching his target seemingly vanish once again, he decided that was the only perk. He had been chasing her for several blocks now.

Frustration drove him as he hurdled a crate searching the area wildly for any sign that she’d been this way. It was mostly luck he saw a flash of her disappear over the building at the end of the alley. Gritting his teeth he launched himself onto the nearest fire escape to pursue. Being covered in Titan guts was actually starting to look like the better option.

As he heaved himself onto the ledge, he cursed Erwin and anyone involved in the idiotic decision that he couldn't use his 3DMG, spewing some bullshit about “proper permits”. Fucking assholes - the precious pearl clutchers of Mitras could kiss his ass, this target was pissing him off.

Looking ahead, he saw her running full tilt across the rooftop, nimbly weaving through the chimneys littering her path. Pausing only to unholster his gun, he once again began the chase.

The rooftop came to an abrupt end and he saw her flail a bit to catch herself from falling. At four stories up, she wouldn't make the jump down without at least a broken ankle - even if she tried, he’d be able to apprehend her without much struggle.

Breathing more heavily than he would like, Levi leveled his gun, aiming for her legs. Erwin said to incapacitate, not eliminate - as long as her dumbass didn't fall over from the impact, mission complete. He could almost feel the hot bath waiting for him at home - it’d been awhile since he worked up this much of a sweat.

“Oi,” He commanded to her back, “Stay the fuck put. I’d be lying if I said I didn't want to shoot you - you’ve been a pain in my fucking ass.”

Weariness tensed her shoulders as she glanced back at him, eyes hard, before her whole person slumped in a sigh. His grip tightened on the gun as she threw her hands in the air in an over exaggerated show of surrender before turning on her heel. Levi didn't buy it for a second.

Not taking his eyes off her, he continued to advance as he got his first real look. Covered head to toe in form fitting black cloth, the only part of her that was visible was the top of her face, dominated by her E/C eyes - they were intense, but more importantly - she didn’t seem worried in the least. Was she delusional?

“Listen cunt, try anything and I will absolutely blow off your kneecaps. I need you alive, not whole.” When she remained in the same position, he narrowed his eyes and slowly moved towards her. “On your knees. Now.”

In a split second her hands went from raised above her head to a mocking salute, and Levi pulled the trigger in a knee-jerk reaction. The gun clicked, but there was no kickback. No bullet, either.

Levi could only chance a look at his gun before her fist, still clenched above her heart, propped up her middle finger in a different kind of salute. She leaned back before disappearing off the wall towards the ground below.

He threw the gun aside and charged after her, stopping abruptly at the edge. Frantic coal eyes scoured below, before anger boiled low in his stomach - below was the city square, a crowd gathered that she’d be impossible to find in.

“Fuck!” His yell attracted a few glances up his way, but he paid them no mind as he walked back towards his defective gun.

Picking it up he inspected it more closely - something was obstructing the hammer. Biting back another curse, he pried out a crumpled piece of paper. Immediately he mentally retraced his steps - when did…

Then he remembered - walking down the street to his designated position when the mission began -

A quick yelp and then she was on the ground. Levi was a bit startled himself - he didn't even see her, so caught up in his mental rant about bullshit policies regarding 3DMG in city limits. Visibly though, his face remained as stoic as ever.

“You should watch where you’re going.” He bit out, offering his hand to the prone woman. She accepted his hand reluctantly and he pulled her up. He must have misjudged his strength because she was sent careening into his chest before she straightened herself. He steadied her, scowling.

“Sorry, t-thanks.” She offered demurely, eyes not meeting his, before practically running away through the market.

The memory flooded back and he struggled to remember everything about her as possible but - there wasn't much. H/C hair, about his height - that's it. Fuck, that could be anyone.

Fucking idiot he cursed himself and he could almost hear Kenny lecturing him to always be on guard, even in a city like Mitras. He began his climb down the building.

Especially in a city like Mitras, where there was less dirt and grime than poorer cities, but twice as much backstabbing.

The urge to punch something strong, he made his way back to the rendezvous place - he was never going to hear the end of this.

--------------------------------------------------

As she moved through the crowd, F/N did her best to level her breathing and ignore the throbbing in her ankle. This was not how she expected her day to go - Peter said it was an easy score, no muss, no fuss.

She wasn't expecting the Walls-damned Survey Corp to be on her ass. She could only wonder at this new move by the MPs - she hadn't caused enough recent trouble for the “Humanities Strongest Soldier” type treatment. If she hadn’t thought ahead, recognizing him earlier in the market... Wincing, she tried her best to even her gait and made for home; Louis would know what to do.

She fought every instinct telling her to just bolt; it would be a dead giveaway. As it was, she stood out in her unusual garb - switching out her mask and hood for a cap and spectacles, both swiped from nearby stalls, was the best she could do until she got somewhere safer. She navigated the streets, avoiding khaki jackets as best she could.

“Honestly, it's unthinkable,” She heard a voice start from a pair of drunk women walking a few yards ahead of her, “If those dirty free loaders think they deserve anything, then they should go back out and fight for Wall Maria themselves.” Her serious expression dropped as she drunkenly stumbled, her friend giggling at her clumsiness.

Fists clenched, F/N bit her tongue. Walking through downtown Mitras was always a struggle; she would never understand the inhumanity of Wall Sinas' ignorance. She pushed on - now was not the time.

She took the scenic route. Pausing only briefly to glance imperceptibly for any potential pursuers, she eventually turned down the street that housed Louis’ Pub. The lanterns were running on fumes at this time of night, and the street was quiet. The people of Mitras may be abhorrent but this Pub was the only exception, was home. She felt the tension leave her shoulders as she neared and saw it not swarmed by MPs. Or the Corp.

A little bit more pep in her step, F/N nudged the doors open with her shoulder as she took off the hat and glasses, tossing them onto the first table inside. The bar looked recently closed, most tables cleared and wiped down, chairs stacked on top.

“Louis!” She called to the doorway that led to the back, hearing her mentor moving around, “You will not believe the night I’ve had. Any idea what I did to piss off the Survey Corp? Had Captain Fucking Levi after me. The runt almost had me - Do they seriously not have anything better to do?”

Moving farther in, she leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle, practiced hands flicking off the cap before taking a long swig. She savored the burn as she swallowed. When he didn’t round the corner to the main bar, she paused, bottle halfway to her lips, eyebrows furrowed. What was he doing back there?

“Louis?” She tried again. “Do you need he-”

Instinct was the only thing that saved her from the bullet, dropping to a crouch an instant before it flew by and lodged itself in the wall.

“Tch.”

In an instant, she was back on her feet, but wasn't quick enough to dodge the hand on her neck thrusting her face first into the bar counter. She felt bone give before the pain blinded her.

Now falling, she threw her hands in front of her to catch herself before the floor did, and was rewarded with a heavy knee into her unprotected abdomen.

This time she did hit the floor, hard. Dazed and winded, she groaned and sluggishly moved to roll over but was stopped by a knee pressing painfully into her back, her arm pulled behind her. Her shoulder strained under the force and she bit back a whimper. Panicking, her free arm flailed, searching the ground for anything to defend herself with. The cool glass of the now broken liquor bottle grazed her fingers and she strained to reach it.

Ice flooded her veins and she froze at the bite of cold steel suddenly pressed against her throat.

“Try it and you’re dead.”

E/C eyes widened at the familiar voice.

“H-how-” She bit back a yelp when he pulled her arm further back, kicking the broken glass away from her reach. Only the feel of his blade pressed against her throat stopped her from struggling - she felt fear crawling up her chest as helplessness settled in.

“How’d we find you?” Levi finished for her, voice mocking “Your buddy told us you’d be back here.”

Her mind raced, trying to think of who the hell would even know to look for her here - Peter? No. Peter was a fickle idiot, but he doesn't know about the pub. Could it be - as best she could, her eyes looked towards the open door to the back. There's no way Louis missed the noise of this very one sided fight.

F/N was pulled out of her thoughts when Levi leaned over her, the movement putting more force into his hold on her. She winced.

“If you even twitch,” He hissed into her ear, increasing the pressure on the blade at her neck, “I’ll slit your fucking throat. Understand?”

He paused long enough that she realized he was looking for an answer. She nodded fearfully and he shoved into her once more for good measure before the blade was removed and her free arm was pulled behind her as well.

She heard the clink of metal and a second later, cool iron at her wrists.

Face throbbing with a broken nose and likely concussion, F/N could only allow herself to be hoisted into one of the bar’s chairs, hands shackled behind her.

Trying to get a grasp on the situation, she blinked through the spots in her vision and tried to breathe around the blood filling her sinuses. Footsteps sounded to her left but trying to loll her head in that direction resulted in a nausea that she had to shut her eyes and breathe through.

Granted, she wouldn't mind throwing up on this dicks’ shoes - but still. Not dignified, and she didn't fancy getting her ass beat again.

A hand in her hair pulled her head back painfully.

“Try anything and I’ll break your legs.” Was hissed in her ear as warning when she heard additional footsteps signaling the arrival of someone new.

“Levi.” A commanding voice sounded, cutting through her delirium. Nothing more was said, but she heard an annoyed tsk, and her hair was released, allowing her head to roll forward.

“I said to go easy.” The new voice chided after a heavy sigh.

“You didn't have to chase her through half the city.” Levi deadpanned, nonplussed. “She’s lucky I didn’t just shoot her.”

Not for lack of trying , she thought bitterly, eyeing the bullet hole in the wall where her head had been moments prior.

A gentle touch on her arm startled her. Squinting, she made out Louis' wrinkled face. Pain splintered through her chest at the sight of him. Louis looked the same as he always did, a much younger man stuck in an old man's body. Only his white hair and shrunken frame gave away his age, he moved like a man 20 years his junior. He was like a father to her - took her from Marie’s care and shaped her into something human . Him selling her out was unfathomable, even as the evidence piled up.

“It’s ok F/N,” Louis said in his familiar soothing voice “Erwin’s a friend - please just listen to what he has to say...”

While she could only stare incredulously at her mentor, “Erwin” pulled up a chair in front of her. Sitting down, he leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. He seemed to be examining her and she felt like a specimen on one of the Military’s engineers tables; she was being dissected.

Blood steadily leaking down her face, F/N’s gaze swiveled between her mentor and the blonde sitting across from her. Finally able to focus, the sight of his uniform was unmistakable.

Her head throbbed painfully and the reality of this betrayal finally hit. White hot fury spurned her forward out of her seat, but she didn't get far - an iron hand on her shoulder shoved her forcefully back into the chair. Once again, a blade was placed at her neck.

“Give me the excuse.” Levi leaned in to speak from behind her.

Louis cast a cold gaze at him before turning to the seated newcomer. “Is this necessary?” He asked.

Erwin’s gaze hadn’t left her face.

“Yes, as unfortunate as it is.” He started. After searching her bloody face, he seemed to reach some conclusion and leaned back, casting a nod towards Levi at the same time. The pressure of the blade left her throat, but F/N did not relax. “She is still technically a criminal, and we cannot afford to be too trusting.”

Her scoff was interrupted by a cough. Spitting out the blood that had drained into her throat, her eyes turned to Erwin.

“You would say that, Military Dog.” She tried her best to hold his gaze but looked away. His eyes weren’t filled with the same ignorant spite she was used to, and it confused her. But he still had his attack dog break her nose so - fuck him anyway.

Erwin only nodded.

“Yes, I do say that. You’re still a thief, however noble your cause may be.”

E/C eyes shot up to once again lock with his blue ones, confusion coloring her features.

“You seem surprised.” He said as Louis moved to take a seat beside you both. “I’m very much aware of your motives, F/N L/N. To take from those who have too much and give to those who have-not.”

“If you’re so aware of my “noble” motives, why don’t you let me go?” She asked through gritted teeth.

Erwin hummed low in his throat.

“In an ideal world, I would.” He crossed his arms, gaze falling above to the ceiling in thought. “But then again, in an ideal world, there wouldn't be any have-nots to steal for.”

He trailed off, staring at something in the distance.

“But I digress,” he sighed, eyes once again landing on hers, “It's not an ideal world, and here we are. It was either us or the MPs that would have caught you, and they lack the vision we do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She spat, mind reeling. The revelation his words brought was a stone in her stomach.

“It means we could use someone with your particular skills.” His gaze was piecing, but her dazed-incredulity allowed her to stare back.

F/N waited for the rest - for some kind of explanation to whatever the hell was happening, but when none came she cast her sights on Louis.

“Is this some kind of joke?” She started, borderline hysterical, “Louis, please - tell me this is just you getting back at me for drinking from the top shelf.”

Louis’ gaze remained stoic, but still as gentle as she always remembered.

“This isn’t a joke, F/N,” He began, running his hand over an old scratch in the bar table, “The Survey Corp needs our help.”

“The fuck they do!” She yelled in an uncharacteristic outburst, panic finally snapping something inside of her, “They’re backed by the government - which means they have fuck all to do with us, or anybody that doesn’t fit into their perfect society. What could I possibly do for them that their pet fucking sociopath back here couldn’t?” She gestured behind her with a nod towards Levi, still standing sentinel at her back. "Stop with this hero shtick and just turn me in already. There’s nowhere you can put me but in the ground that I wouldn’t eventually get out of .”

Louis nodded empathetically.

“I understand your hesitation. But we’ve done jobs for them before-” He held up his hand when she went to interrupt, “Even if you didn't know it at the time.”

At her confusion, he finished: “Just - hear him out, ok? I promise, our goals align, and I won’t let anything happen to you. I wouldn't have called them here if I didn’t trust him.”

Erwin watched the exchange and nodded along.

“Indeed. If it wasn’t us, the Military Policy would have eventually caught up to you-”

“And they would have a field day with a pretty young thing like you,” came from behind her, and she paled at the implication.

“Enough, Levi,” Erwin scolded, voice tired, “But he’s unfortunately not wrong - captivity under the Survey Corps supervision would certainly be preferable to other branches.”

“I-I’m,” F/N began, nerves fried, imagination running wild. Swallowing, she continued. “I’m not joining the Corp, if that's what you're after. I’d rather whatever faces me inside the walls than…” She trailed off.

“Than Titans?” Levi supplied helpfully, though his voice held spite.

“Not all of us have a death wish, you suicidal little runt,” She craned her neck to look at him, fury and fear shining in her eyes. “Or maybe you get off on watching your friends get ea-”

“Levi!” Erwin shouted as the Captain started towards their captive, blade already in hand. “Enough. Go wait for me out front.”

Levi stopped, but his brows furrowed at the command.

“Erwin, I don’t think-" He started, but was stopped by his Commander's sharp look. Scoffing, he turned, slamming the door behind him as he left.

“Apologies, Captain Levi has more cause than most to hate Titans, and is still adjusting to his position. I do not recommend antagonizing him.” Erwin said.

“Noted. I’m still not joining your suicide mission.”

Erwin sighed, shooting a glance at Louis that spoke more than F/N was unable to fully decipher.

“I’m not asking you to.” He started, moving to remove something from his cloak, “In fact, the fact that you're not military is exactly what makes you perfect for this.”

He threw three stacks of bills onto the table to his right, each about a ½ inch thick.

“This is our sign-on offer - each job will warrant an additional fee, depending on it's difficulty.”

Y/N could only stare, slow to process his words.

“Seriously? You want to hire me for a job?” She was incredulous, “And how are you going to explain that to your superiors, Mr. Military?” She asked, nodding towards the cash.

“More of a long term contract than a single job. And we have funds designated to pay outside contractors.”

“Do you beat and shackle all your “outside contractors””? F/N snarked.

Erwin's mouth quirked up.

“Only the particularly precocious ones.”

F/N gaped at his gall, making to speak. He held up his hand before she could start.

“Before you decide, I would like to be clear. It is ultimately your decision, but if you refuse, we will hand you over to the military police for them to pursue whatever justice they see fit.”

F/Ns glare was heavy.

"Better get them over here then. I already told you I'm not fighting any Ti-"

"The jobs I need you to complete would take place inside the walls. And if you're as good as they say, without any fighting at all."

At that she raised an eyebrow.

“What business could the Survey Corp have inside the walls, isn’t that the MPs jurisdiction?” A beat when the thought came, “Did you get caught shacking up with someone's wife? Need some good blackmail material to save your skin?”

“F/N.” Louis chided, but it had less impact on her than it would have a half hour ago before she knew he had sold her out.

Erwin didn’t seem phased, however.

“It’s ok Louis. You're not far off, actually - how much do you know about the politics behind the military?” He asked, blue eyes calculating.

She paused at that, thinking. When she didn’t have a response, Erwin continued.

“I don’t blame you for not knowing - it's a closely guarded government secret. The everyday citizen knowing about any infighting could inspire dissent, which, as I’m sure you can understand, would be disastrous for how secular our way of life is. Because of this secrecy, some branches are allowed to pursue...less savory interests without recourse.”

F/N hummed, bored.

“So our shady government continues to be shady - what does that have to do with me?”

Erwin nodded, “I need ammunition if the Survey Corp is to survive in such an environment. Fight fire with fire, so to speak. As Louis indicated, you’ve already helped us. Do you remember the document you were tasked with stealing from a Nicholas Lovof last year?”

Her eyes shot to Louis accusingly. Louis held up his hands in deference. As far as she knew, that document was sold to an anonymous buyer on the black-market - she had no idea it was the military all long who was after it.

“Your efforts allowed us the funding needed to keep our soldiers alive, F/N. And your work was impeccable - only the nature of the transaction tipped off my involvement to Lovof.”

As she continued to stare Louis down, Erwin continued.

“I’d like you to continue to help us. But more importantly - help all of humanity.”

Sighing, tired E/C slid back over to Erwin as she visibly slumped.

“That's a pretty sales pitch you have there, but you’ll be just fine without me, Commander . The refugees from Wall Maria, on the other hand, are starving as we speak.”

“Your methods of providing funds to feed the refugees are effective only in the short term, Ms. L/N.” He countered, “With the Corp at full strength, we could take back Wall Maria.”

She sat up a bit straighter at that.

“Are you serious? How is that even in the cards?”

“It's all hypothetical - but yes, one day the Corp hopes to reclaim what was taken from us.” He leaned forward to deliver the final blow, “Like I said, our goals align. Help me from outside the military, keep the Corp running, and the trodden and defeated can once again reclaim their old lives.”

F/N paused, trying to see the truth behind his bullshit, but she couldn’t disagree with him. Taking back Wall Maria would help so many people. Small heists here and there helped alleviate some of the bleeding - but this would be a huge win.

Slowly starting to nod, she faced Erwin once more.

“Ok - I don't disagree with you, Erwin .” She said his name like a threat, reaching out to shake his hand. The blondes eyes widened only fractionally. He did not see her slip the cuffs. “I’ll work for you, for now - but the second I see you cross over to the wrong side, to the side where gilded bullshit is worth more than human life, I’ll ruin you myself.”

His unnerving gaze never left her face, but he took her hand in a firm handshake.

“I look forward to working with you, Ms. L/N. I know together we can do great things.”

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi #reader insert #gem writes

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fusonzai · 3 years ago

Text

I think I'm talking about confidence, I'm not too sure.

I was fifteen when I first saw Great Teacher Onizuka. My friend had lent me the DVD set (as you did when it was 2008) and I was about to spend the day watching it, feigning some illness to get out of school for the day. I needed some time alone, to process everything that had been going on around me.

For context, my parents were in the middle of a divorce. My mum, the most amazing person in the world to me, was not having a good time and I was not at all possessed with the skills to help her cope. Processing the concept of divorce, while trying to mediate the two adults going through it, wasn’t something I could handle. I didn’t know what I was doing. I needed a whole day away from friends and away from parents. While everyone was at their day job, I could think about everything and nothing, uninterrupted.

My attempt at getting out of school worked, however it came with a caveat. Mum had decided she’d take the day off with me. Feeling defeated but still stubborn, I insisted that if she was going to stay home too that we were watching GTO. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into.

GTO begins with our protagonist, Eikuchi Onizuka, squatting down by a payphone, trying to stare up the skirts of some high school girls coming down the nearby escalator. That’s a bold open. Two delinquents notice this and attempt to then extort him for cash. He promptly beats them up, forcing them to use all the money they have to buy him some food from the nearby convenience store. This scene establishes a few things straight off the bat: Onizuka is, first and foremost, a pervert and he’s physically strong but not to the point of unfairly asserting dominance over others. Onizuka dreams of being a teacher of all things. He wants to be the teacher he never had, being there for students outside the classroom as well as in. The series showcases Onizuka using his ex-biker gang leader skills and sheer determination to change the attitude of the antagonist students in his class. Each week he solves the reason behind their resistance toward him and they join his team until eventually he really is the Great Teacher, Onizuka.

The first delinquent problem Onizuka solves is that of Mizuki Nanako. Her parents aren’t divorced but they’re not exactly doing well. Ever since her father’s company started doing well and they moved into a mansion, she feels as though her parents just aren’t seeing eye to eye anymore. She blames it on a simple wall separating her parents’ private rooms. Before it got put up, her parents would talk and laugh together, sharing in their joys but also their defeats. Then before she knew it, they put a wall up and stopped sharing anything at all.

So, Onizuka arrives at her house. He’s got a bandana tied around his head, his abs gleaming as he’s smoking a cigarette. More importantly, he’s holding a sledgehammer, ready to demolish that wall. With her parents yelling at him threatening to call the police, Onizuka ascends the staircase and begins to take down that wall. Every powerful swing, shaking the wall and cracking the foundation.

(What a man what a man what a man what a might good man)

It felt cruel watching this scene with my mum. Here we were, two people still trying to process a big life event, opting to spend the day away from the problem. Here Onizuka was, just smashing through the problem with nothing but conviction, stupidity and sheer confidence. I couldn’t quite conceptualise the thought just yet but I think I envied that confidence. I wanted to be able to take a sledgehammer to this invisible problem and fix it. I didn’t know what an actual sledgehammer would solve nor was I even able to figure out what my situational sledgehammer would be, I just knew I wanted to be more like that. I wanted that confidence; I just didn’t know what it was yet.

Confidence. A complete assuredness in your actions. You may not have any idea of the outcome of said actions but you’re certain in the choice you made taking them. Maybe that’s just one definition. I struggle to this day with how to define confidence, I’ve been confident at different times in my life for different reasons. Mainly it’s been something I’ve found as I’ve gotten older though.

I struggled a lot with it when I was younger. I’d struggle to find it and when I did there was someone there trying to take it from me almost immediately. Pink polos were gay, skinny jeans were gay, being interested in anything outside the norm was gay as well. I wasn’t bullied by any means but there was always somebody around to tell you what they thought. I’d fold under that kind of pressure. I remember when I was 10 and we were in music class, I sang a little too loud and the popular girls behind me started pointing and laughing, clipping me before I got too sure of myself.

I got older and I thought I’d found confidence through weight training, but it was just arrogance. I genuinely thought I was better than other people in my creative writing class because I picked heavy things up and put them down. Of course, this had a drawback, whenever I’d meet someone bigger than me, I’d feel pathetic, jealous and inferior. I thought I’d rid myself of this arrogance when I started studying Japanese. My initial study was diligent and excessive. I’d have two Japanese classes a week and spend the rest of my time after work revising. Looking back now it was necessarily efficient studying, but in terms of time put in the hours were there. I believed I was working hard, which led to this arrogance in my abilities. An arrogance that was swiftly cut down whenever I met somebody better than me.

So, I always arrived at this juncture where I’d learn a new skill or hobby and wonder how to be confident in myself without comparing myself to others. I didn’t quite know how to praise myself for doing well at the gym or learning something new in Japanese without immediately comparing myself to others. It meant that I’d occasionally have these emotional highs when I achieved something only to be brought down to earth when I saw that somebody could do it better. I didn’t know how to make my achievements my own. The confidence I had was too fickle, it didn’t come from within and it often led to feeling superior to others based off of a single quantifier.

I was still uncomfortable with myself. I wanted outside validation which led to comparison, boasting and arrogance. I didn’t realise that I couldn’t get any of that from anyone else, it all had to come from within.

It’s taken me 14 years, but Onizuka finally made sense to me. I was watching the incredibly famous (in Japan) live action version of GTO one night, which turned into a nostalgia trip as all the episodes were almost identical to their anime equivalent. As I was watching I was wondering why I still hold this fictional character in such high regard, of all the powerful charismatic anime protagonists I watched in my teenage years, why does Onizuka persevere?

It’s because he’s kind of a dork.

(Get you a man that can do both)

Along with the confidence and strength that being a protagonist in a medium geared towards young boys affords you, Onizuka also has some very human flaws and vulnerabilities. The intense scenes like surprise renovating Nanako’s house or rescuing a whole bunch of kids from a gang are always juxtaposed with him being absolutely wayward in so many other aspects of life. He lives at the school because he can’t afford rent, he’s 26 and never had a girlfriend and his only friends are his students. We are always shown that his confidence isn’t intrinsically linked to how well his life is going, it’s just his feeling and determination in the moment. For all that bravado we see, we’re also shown the more human, relatable aspects. He’s amazing, brave and confident, but at the same time he’s still vulnerable and human.

Yet here’s the thing, I thought confidence meant a lack of vulnerability. I thought one couldn’t be both confident and vulnerable. This isn’t some segue into Boys Don’t Cry or a delve into masculinity. I didn’t believe that vulnerability wasn’t masculine, I just thought that vulnerability meant you had a long way to go before you were allowed to be confident.

(These lines go from bravado to insecurity in an instant, but I still think Tyler is confident as fuck)

I show what I feel to be the pretty vulnerable content on this blog. I write about my doubts and insecurities, the events that shaped me and the times in my life where I really felt at my lowest. I document the struggle I find myself in now, trying to carve something for myself and come to terms with the changes that keep happening around me. I don’t think anybody reading this would have an image of me as an outgoing, confident person. There’s rays of positivity sprinkled in occasionally but it’s generally content that I struggle to tell people in person.

Before starting this blog, I would have imagined that if I wanted to become this confident idealised version of myself, I’d need to erase any form of vulnerability. Delete the Instagram posts with moody lyrics, delete the couple shots and stop caring. I’d need to kill part of myself to become someone different. I couldn’t consciously accept that they were two signs of the same coin, even if I knew it in the back of my mind. The more I’ve been writing the better I’ve been feeling. These fears and insecurities being out in the open don’t make me any weaker, they actually feel like progress. My weaknesses will exist regardless of whether or not I tell people about them, my insecurities won’t disappear overnight. I’ll never be someone I’m not. What I can do is take these things that used to terrify me and put them out in the open. In my last piece I waxed on about making my words my own, by verbalising and bringing these thoughts into the open I feel like they become my own. They’re not completely stripped of power but they don’t hold the same sway over me that they once did.

So that leaves me with confidence. I can air my vulnerabilities and doubts but then where does my confidence come from? How do I then stop it from becoming arrogance?

Let me tell you about Charisma Man.

You know how when Superman goes back to Krypton he’s just a regular person, but on Earth he’s basically a God? Charisma Man is a joke (turned comic) about how Western Men often believe themselves to be Superman on Earth when they move to Japan. Why? You’re basically bombarded with compliments from the get-go. You get told your Japanese is amazing (when it’s not), that you’re so tall (when you’re short back home) and that you’re such a handsome man (when all experiences up until now have led you to believe the opposite). Thus, you create a kind of false confidence for yourself. Or do the people around you do it for you? You yourself haven’t changed but the people around you have, and they’re whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

(Honestly didn't know it was a comic, initially heard of it on a subreddit making fun of other expats in Japan)

Hell, maybe I am good looking? I studied Japanese for a year back home, maybe I am just really good at it? Maybe those people around me back home were just obnoxiously tall and mean. Maybe I am the shit. You begin to formulate this new identity for yourself. You are Charisma Man now. You’ll be making heaps of money, have girls on standby and be loved by everybody in no time.

Except that never happens.

The reality of Charisma Man isn’t so bright. You’re probably an English teacher living somewhere far away from the big city. Your apartment is probably small and old and your salary is half as much as you were making back home. Despite being told about how good your Japanese is, you still can’t turn on the TV and watch a program. You still can’t go to the bank and open an account with your bilingual Japanese friend. You’re still single and you’re probably getting fatter off convenience store fried chicken, if anything.

It’s fake confidence with no merit, built on nothing. You haven’t put yourself out there or done anything to earn that confidence so it always feels foreign to you. There isn’t some feat you perform or some hurdle you cross to get that kind of confidence. You’re not smashing walls with your sledgehammer or confronting your fears and growing. You just get fed compliments until your confidence balloon bursts.

I felt like I was Charisma Man for a hot minute. Separated from everyone I knew, out drinking every night, being complimented left right and centre. I kept trying and failing to keep my feet on the ground. Back then I thought it was new-found confidence, but I wasn’t really coming out of my shell; I was just being obnoxious. After long the facade faded and I realised I was the exact same Elliot I was back in Australia, just with less money and a nicer haircut.

I began to think about my experience. Why was I so confident? Why did it dissipate so quickly? Why was I not the only one that experienced this little phenomenon?

I came to the conclusion that confidence can come from many places. It can come from other people, but then it’s reliant on the praise of others. It’s shallow, fickle and bound to dissipate sooner rather than later. You’re constantly reliant on the praise of others to affirm who you are as a person, you can fool people into giving you praise but that goes away before you know it as well.

It’s a big enough of a struggle to understand yourself, it’s near impossible to understand strangers. Relying on such an unstable form of validation is essentially just inviting mental trauma in the long run.

On the other hand, confidence can also come from within.

After I distanced myself from all that charisma, I began to realise that I felt my best and my most confident when I actually put the work in. I started properly studying, eating well, and writing down my thoughts. It didn’t matter as much if people didn’t say anything, because I went to bed every night knowing that I put in enough work. Nobody said anything about the change, but I felt like I was becoming my own biggest supporter.

It’s both rewarding and daunting when you switch dopamine suppliers. I used past tense in those last few sentences because that particular fountain hasn’t been flowing so well lately. The flip side of not letting other people’s compliments fuel you anymore is that when you’re not doing right by yourself, that confidence tend to dry up pretty quickly.

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brief-candle · 5 years ago

Text

ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴠᴏᴡ - Kyoujurou Rengoku & Muzan Kibutsuji

just........ two more..............

tbh i don’t even know what i’m doing on this site bc none of my posts appear in the tags so i’m just hardcore plugging on my quotev because i gotta do what i gotta do y’know?

series: demon slayer/ kimetsu no yaiba

notes: little to no yandere (mayhaps if you squint you can see some?), major character death, male reader, angst, stuff that probably makes 0 sense, angst, the muzan x reader you have to squint for, most likely ooc, angst.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The rain didn't seem as if it were ever going to stop that day. Tiny droplets littered the streets endlessly, falling from a sea of murky grey which hung in the sky longer than anyone would have liked. It only seemed to enhance the bitter cold and dubious darkness of that alley.

I remember that alley well, with crumbling cobbled floors and walls with jagged cracks that ran up them like crevasses. Fading greys that mixed with the sky, painting the world in monochromatic misery. People hurrying to seek shelter, not sparing a second glance at anyone who didn't have the same options. Humans truly were miserable creatures. This world of grey truly suited them.

But it didn't suit him. As soon as I met his eyes, I knew they would be my doom.

Golden irises like melted honey, or freshly made butterscotch. Those were the first things I saw, and were what I kept returning to. Even the charm of his strangely coloured hair couldn't grasp my attention from those eyes. A soft amber hue with the intensity of the strongest fires behind them. From the second I saw them, I was utterly smitten. Even if it was forbidden by all means, and could never be forgiven by neither humans nor demons, these feelings only festered with time.

He took me in off the streets, with all knowledge of what I was. I wasn't sure how, or more importantly why, he would do such a thing, but I quickly learned that I would never quite understand Kyoujurou. How he would smile as he talked of his upcoming wedding, yet couldn't hide the dimming of the vibrancy that was so common in his eyes. It tugged at the heart that I thought had long ceased existing. Not only to hear of him being promised to another, but also to see such a crestfallen look in those eyes that had gained my affection.

I knew it could never be. Truly, I did. For not only was I a demon and he a human, but we were also two men. We could never marry, even if these sinful feelings of mine were reciprocated. It was disgusting for me to be most ashamed of this, considering the heinous things I've done up until this point. The countless people I've murdered to please a man of my past. Before, I believed that perhaps I loved him. However the heart is a fickle thing, and so betrayed that emotion almost as quickly as I had betrayed him. Fleeing without any notice, I wound up in that very alleyway and discovered true love just hours later.

Yes, true love. True love that could never be, with so many barriers between us. From every meeting between Kyoujurou and his betrothed, it was obvious that neither were interested. I believe that was what hurt the most, the fact that the main thing keeping me from confessing these wretched feelings was born out of convenience, rather than any form of love. They were incompatible in every meaning of the word, with her iciness putting a damper on his usual flame of excitement. Only in those situations did those flames simmer down into a mere ember, only to spark up again in her absence.

"Do you not enjoy the Lady's presence?" I had once approached the subject in a voice full to the brim of faux dispassion.

He attempted to laugh his usual hearty laugh, but it was almost as false as my previous question's tone. Afterwards, paying no attention to this, he returned with another question: "Why do you ask that?"

His voice held a slight tremble to it, one of nervousness. This was unlike him, so unlike him that this alone evoked in me a strong distaste for the woman.

'Your smile never seems as bright.'

'Your tone is completely different when answering her.'

'Your posture makes it obvious.'

'Your eyes lose their usual warmth.'

These statements, all equally true and clawing at my throat to be said, never came. They hung back, caged in through a tightened jaw and rows of razor teeth. Teeth that had devoured many, and would probably devour many more. And those words would suffer the same fate.

I continued with my task for a minute or so, which was to clean the windows during the night. Looking for something more suitable, I stared at my reflection. Sharp features, dangerous cat-like eyes with a colour that didn't match the softness of Kyoujurou's in any way, shape or form.

It disgusted me, reminded me of what I was. And so instead of speaking the truth to him, which was the least he'd deserved for all his kindness, I turned away from both the window and him.

"A hunch."

He seemed relieved to hear that, as well as chipper that I seemed to understand him like that. But he didn't express that in words, but admitted that he didn't hold any affection for that woman. He wasn't enthusiastic in doing so, but it certainly raised my spirits as well as my guilt. If he could trust me with something so personal as his negative view of his betrothed, then he must certainly hold me in high regard. As someone trustworthy. Yet I couldn't even return such a thing.

As days passed, the wedding drew nearer. And so we had to run around to find the best suits, best flowers, best everything for when the horrid day arrived. Each night I lay awake, never needing to sleep but seeking it more than ever, feeling each day that passed like weights on my chest. Every night I lay there, thinking: 'tomorrow will be the day; I'll confess tomorrow'.

However, every 'tomorrow' came and went like each of the 'tomorrow's before it. With unannounced feelings like chains that tightened around my heart with each sunrise that I cowered from.

Until finally, that 'tomorrow' came.

The confession was hard, and one without words. It was messy, in the heat of the moment, and more human than I'd been in hundreds of years. Vulnerable, weak, pathetic and a complete failure.

Those beautiful eyes of his looked so shocked and cold in that moment, like the melted honey had finally set and would never soften again. Even a thousand blades would hurt less than that moment, and perhaps would make me wish to disappear completely less. So when he pushed me away after I had kissed him, I turned to do exactly that.

I ran away.

It was impossible to not look back, and I did it several times. Wishing that I hadn't done that, so I could have lived on with my life even with those unspoken feelings weighing down on my shoulders. Even if I'd had to show up to the wedding and pretend to be happy, when inside it'd feel like I was being slowly torn apart. To wish for his happiness, even though I knew such a thing was unattainable for such an incompatible couple. Because at least then I could still be near him, and could still be there for him to tell anything to. For him to let out stress through words, or to simply chat with and rekindle his infamous enthusiasm with.

However I'd ruined it all in an act of selfish indulgence, of thoughtlessness. Thrown the relationship that we had cultivated into the gutter in a moment of poor judgement.

Though I wasn't sure what I had thought in the first place by doing so. For in kissing him, I had a vain hope that he would accept these cursed feelings of mine, and we could live happily. However reality is cruel, and so crushed that dream as soon as I had hoped for it, out of spite for my very existence.

When I had stopped running for a moment, it allowed for my thoughts to make themselves known. How perhaps if I was a human, it would all be fine. How perhaps if I was not a man, then it would all be fine. For if Kyoujurou was allowed to marry a human girl, then of course he could not love someone who was the very opposite of this.

Even with the mistake born from my passion fresh in mind, my heart still yearned for more. It yearned to be loved by the man with the beautiful eyes, for perhaps then I would discover both the truest form of love and the truest form of happiness. For only a taster of these had been given to me from being just a friend to this man, which left me wanting more. It was the forbidden fruit, and a trap that I would fall into with open arms. To taste the forbidden fruit, one must first sell their soul to the devil.

And so that is what I did.

The devil willingly took my soul with the broadest of smiles, offering what I wanted for something that he deemed of equal value. To love Kyoujurou without being punished by neither man nor those who feed on them, the thing I must offer would have to be of immense value. However that didn't matter to me at that moment of greed, for my mind was too cluttered to consider any consequences.

Upon encountering Kyoujurou again, the consequences were clear as day. All of the apathy I'd felt towards the idea of any sort of consequences had been replaced with intense sorrow when I met him again; to him, it truly was the first time that we had met, for the thing that the devil decided was of equal value was the treasured memories of our time together. Mine were still intact, but I couldn't decide whether I would have preferred it if they hadn't, for I fear that the tears that threatened the lip of my eyelids were all too obvious.

I wondered if he noticed that look in my eyes when I first met him in that alleyway. The look of awe when looking into his eyes was mirrored in his own, so much so that he barely looked away from them. It wasn't even a minute later that he left the bouquet of freshly cut roses behind. When I saw them, that was when I realised the day.

It was his wedding day.

I wasn't sure whether it was relief that I was just in time, happiness when he embraced me or the lingering sadness that forced the tears down my cheeks. However the second of those listed seemed to win when he didn't pull away from our second kiss. Or our third. Or when we went further.

It was bittersweet, really, to think that he may have never loved the real me, rather than this beautiful shell that harboured all of the best features from my previous form. The thought of him only being interested with this new body of mine left me feeling sick to my stomach, however when he spoke to me those feelings were cast aside completely.

"It's comforting to talk to you," he'd said, "it's like I've known you for a long time."

When he added that onto his original statement, all clues of what to respond with vanished. I was left speechless, utterly astounded, and once more on the verge of tears. His gaze, which was on me, seemed so distant and far away, as if trying to recall something that evades you the more you struggle to grasp it.

I swallowed, exhaled softly, and let out a chuckle that sounded more like a choked bark than anything else. It was an ugly sound, one which I stifled my cringing from with a placid, "that is rather strange... but I'm flattered you feel that way."

To speak like a lady was tiring and required too much thought. Where before I could speak to him however I liked, as the other gender it would be considered rude and crass to do so. Such a thing could drive him away from me again, and that was perhaps what I feared the most.

Perhaps in some aspect he still remembered the time that we'd spent together. Comments like 'you could pass for a boy' from him didn't seem all that offensive to me, considering the context of my situation. Any other woman would have felt disgusted and put-off by such a declaration, but it was hard to feel that way when the thing that I could 'pass for' was what I originally was. Besides, it lay seed for a small flower of hope to begin to bloom in your chest, lay way for hope that perhaps he would gradually begin to remember all the time you'd spent together and all you'd trusted each other with before you'd messed it all up.

But time never allowed for that.

As time moved on, another figure moved into the small lives you'd made for yourselves. You were content, growing to be at some form of peace with your situation before someone from the past emerged.

"Give them to me." He had said, voice like silk yet tone like the sharpest of daggers as he gave his demand. As haughty as I'd remembered, and as beautiful.

"Why?" Kyoujurou's smile never left his face, even in a situation as tense as this. He had no clue what was happening here, or why. The guilt began to eat at me again, for if it wasn't for my selfishness, he wouldn't have to be in such a situation anyway. He wouldn't be standing there in between me and the man, shielding me from him. Though Kyoujurou was no fool (he could tell what was a demon and what wasn't from a mile off), he still voluntarily put himself there.

Though I tried to intercept, to convince Kyoujurou to back down from the rising tensions, he didn't allow it in the slightest, only turning to me with that same smile and the same soft eyes that I adored: "there's no need to be worried, I'll keep you safe."

Even still, I wanted to protest, to cry out that his safety was much more important than mine. However the coldness of the intruder's voice cut off any attempt of that.

"You don't need to know that. All you need to know is that I'll take them either way, except if you resist then you'll wind up dead."

To see him here was both shocking and something I dreaded since the moment I'd fled those many months ago. However I wasn't expecting it now, after all this time. It was foolish of me not to, but I just didn't. I found it much easier and much more enjoyable to indulge in the simple and happy lifestyle, where Kyoujurou and I were the only people in the world.

But out of us, soon it would just be I in the world.

The blood was escaping faster than I could try and slow it to give it time to clot. There was so much; it painted my palms and the outside of my hands, staining my face as I stressed as to how to save him. How could I save him? Could I even save him- was it possible? Was this the hand of fate once more, bringing wrath down upon those who dare to taste the forbidden fruit of love between two people that could never be? Was fate serving justice to me, taking away this man's life as revenge for me ruining it? For tempting him away using the foulest of methods from the life he had been given to live?

Such a cruel thing is something I cannot allow. Not if it results in his death.

Yet no matter how much I tried, what I used to soak up the blood and put pressure on the wound, it just wouldn't stop pouring out. Futile tears emerged once more, as if to evoke some pity from whatever cruel deity was enjoying this image of suffering. Yet even then it wouldn't clot, only slipping through my fingers and staining the ground below him. The ground that would swallow him up if I continued to do next to nothing. But there was nothing I could do! I was no doctor by any means, more used to slaughter than healing.

And so, unable to do anything on my own, I had visited an old friend. One who had helped me out with my poor choices once more.

The devil welcomed me back with open arms and a wide grin, as he had first welcomed me before.

I felt the very structure of my being begin to change. A process so painful that I wanted to scream, though sharpening teeth kept them locked within.

He asked for what I had returned.

My internal structure was tearing itself down only to rebuild itself again.

I asked him, with no hesitation: "is it possible to undo my wish?"

But I could feel it, underneath fingers that begun to sharpen also-

He affirmed that it was possible, only to question the reason behind why I was curious about such a thing.

-his wound was clotting.

I told him of my situation, a brief rundown so as to not waste any time. It was of the essence here, after all.

Such a feeling caused the flower of hope to bloom once more in my chest; a full bloom, full of beauty and without sin.

Very quickly he caught on, coming up with a solution with astounding speed. Not that it was very surprising.

His eyes, the sun beginning to fade from those golden hues, began to regain their light.

This was the devil, after all.

They were just as beautiful as the first time.

He had proposed the solution to me.

With the bittersweet familiarity now running through them, unsure of whether to smile or cry.

To undo my deal and to, in turn, fulfil a different one.

This was a dilemma I was facing myself.

This time, as it was his life on the line, the price was higher.

So instead of choosing, I settled on both.

As he was in such dire condition also,

This time, he couldn't bring his radiant smile to light up his features.

the price would be my life.

Instead, as I collapsed into his arms, he only cried instead.

And I accepted without a moment's debate.

The embrace he held me in was shaky as his body was wracked with sobbing, the demon who almost stole away his life standing a bit away from us with unimaginable anger across his face. He was yelling, staring outraged right at me. But at this moment, I decided that I couldn't care less, for surely in exchange for an immortal life, even he wouldn't be able to harm Kyoujurou.

'Let's meet again,' I had tried to say, but lacked the breath and the energy to do so. All I could do was hope that he understood as I lost the energy to even stare upwards at the tears escaping from kindling irises.

#kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #kyoujurou x reader #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #kibutsuji x reader #kny muzan

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nihilnovisubsole · 5 years ago

Note

Do you have any tips considering fanfics with original characters as protagonists? Specific issues to look out for? I admire your writing and your writing advice, you put everything so well into words. Perhaps you've thought about this in more detail as well. I feel like fanfics with original characters are difficult to make intriguing or worthwhile for readers.

yeah, i have thought about it, and i wish i had some kind of sagely, concise answer to give you. this is going to be another long post, sorry. i mulled it over for a few days and i’ve got a lot on my mind.

i don’t know if i could tell you anything from a prose standpoint about “how to write better fanfic with OC protagonists.” i think writing a fan character is, with a few exceptions, pretty much the same as writing a canon character. they have to talk and behave like a real person. they have to be consistent, or have a good reason for it when they’re not. they have to go through events in the story that challenge them. basically, they have to be flesh and blood. if you can find the spark of life in a canon character you love, you can put one in an OC, too.

the only material difference is that they belong to you, and because of that, there’s no “bible” of canon content to refer to. you’re on your own for things like their character arc and dialogue voice. sure, there might be people who are skeptical of them based on their preconceptions about OC fic. but that’s not something you have any control over, so if you ask me, it’s not something that should sway your writing decisions.

on the flipside, a lot of the “issues” i could tell you to “look out for” could just as easily apply to an original fic. “have a cohesive plot arc with conflict, rising action, and a conclusion that makes sense?” that’s every story. “make the premise interesting?” that means three different things to three different people. there’s not much, at least to my eye, that’s only relevant when you’re introducing an OC into a canon universe.

so, when it comes down to it, i feel like writing OC fic is less about how you do it and more about your attitude toward it. it’s not an undertaking where you can bring your shame to the table. every writing project i’ve done, most of all fanfic, has started out with me planning not to tell anyone about it. i always go, “this is ridiculous, i can’t admit i made this OC,” or “i’ll write one passage to get it out of my system, but i won’t publish it.” once i’m in, the fun takes over, and i peel off those layers of embarrassment as i grow more and more fond of the premise and characters. there’s prudence, of course, and good taste, but at the risk of sounding corny… at some point, you just have to let your enthusiasm lead the way.

so, that said:

is there another side to the story/world that interests you enough to explore?

is there a side character you think has untapped potential? was there a mission or episode detail you wanted to explore in more depth? did you ever wonder how the big, heroic main plot might have affected people and places that you didn’t see? if you want to write about big pairings and big, popular subjects and your OC is just the lens the reader sees it all through, great! but if something else grabs you, pursue it, because nobody else is going to have a take on it that’s exactly like yours.

if the story is good, it won’t matter whether an OC or a canon character is the protagonist. it’s just a good story, full stop. if someone won’t take a chance on it because it has an OC lead, it goes back to what i said earlier - that’s on them, not you.

are you writing from a place that is emotionally meaningful to you?

you don’t have to lift something whole-cloth from your own experience. i know it’s annoying to hear people say that you do, and with many fandoms, it’d be impossible. i mean, who among us has fought aliens? but what do you feel strongly about? what emotions have you been through? is there a kind of character or relationship you really want to see? what’s the small, glowing grain of truth within the character that’s going to take them from being a puppet to “a real boy?”

some people will tell you to keep your main characters at arm’s length in case you have to do something nasty to them down the line. i don’t. i always fling myself into it. i’ve talked about that before. does it hurt more when people don’t like them? sure it does, but it forces me to be a more compassionate writer, and i feel the results are worth it. irina, jo, sabrael, marcus and livia, everyone else - i carved a piece of my guts into all of them, and now i’ve served it to you. gross!

and lastly, but most importantly:

do you love the character?

of course you love your character! what kind of a question is that?

and if you don’t, then… why not? i’m not judging, just asking. are they new, and you haven’t had time to get to know them yet? do they come with baggage because you’re worried about them being “cringe?” [if so, cut it out. remember what i said about shame.]

or maybe you just haven’t found the key that will open the locked door of “knowledge of how to write them, and the fondness that comes with it.” every character, to me, starts out with that door, and the key is different every time - a personality trait, an item of clothing, their dialogue voice, something that happened in their backstory, etc. for some characters, the key is much harder to find than others. i don’t know why. but if you haven’t found it yet, don’t worry. keep looking.

here’s the theory that i like: people can tell when you care. if you’ve made something with love, that shines through, regardless of your skill level. if you get excited when you think of a new idea for their story, write it with the same amount of glee you get from envisioning it. if you’ve had the character for so long that it’s become a fictional companion to you, those nuances you’ve learned about them will show up in the writing, just like a real old friend.

sadly, i can’t promise you that doing all that will result in a huge reader turnout or tons of feedback. i wish it did. it doesn’t always. you can work hard and do your best, and it still might not translate to a high level of engagement. but just because the internet is weird, fickle, and cruel doesn’t mean you won’t end up with a cool story that you should be proud of. i’m not saying that should be enough to satisfy you. we all want people to read what we write. we’d be lying if we said we didn’t. i’m just saying that if you write an OC fic from start to finish, you will have achieved something. don’t think it being fanwork diminishes it.

some extra parting thoughts:

for what it’s worth, i’m glad to see the mary sue thing is - at least in places - in its death throes. because, honestly, it’s 2019. it’s time for us to move on. and, look, i’m not a fool. i’ve been engaging with fan content since i was a preteen. i’ve seen OCs where i didn’t buy what the creator was selling me. maybe their visual design didn’t mesh with the main cast. maybe they were a weird choice for their canon-character love interest. maybe they were handed too much, or maybe they lost too much, or anything else from that grab bag of mary sue mortal sins that really live or die on the execution, not the concept.

did i get invested in their stories? no. is that a problem? of course not. i still hoped they had fun and kept working with them, because fun leads to practice, and practice - eventually - leads to skill. brushing all that off as “lol its a mary sue it sux” is intellectually lazy, and also beside the point. the point was for the creator to have fun with a piece of media they enjoy. if they did that, my opinion that an angel vampire with natural pink eyes might be a strange match for sherlock isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on.

#anon #asks #writing

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diveronarpg · 6 years ago

Photo

Congratulations, JULIE! You’ve been accepted for the role of CASSIUS. Admin Jen: Cassius is multifaceted in every sense of the term, and it was the main reason why we couldn’t wait to receive an app for him -- there are so many aspects of his character that could be explored, so many layers to peel back and expand upon. And you achieved that so brilliantly, Julie. From the intriguing plots to the wonderful writing sample, everything came together so well to project the vision that you have for Cassius and it’s certainly left us thirsting for more! I’m so so glad that you’ll be bringing him to us and I can’t wait to see him on the dash! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Julie (hi, it’s me again!)

Age | 19

Preferred Pronouns | She/her or they/them works fine!

Activity Level | So this semester isn’t going to be as disastrous as I thought it’d be, but I’m still gonna give myself a 5.5 out of 10, with more activity on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays than any other days of the week.

Timezone | MST!

Current/Past RP Accounts | Orion’s blog is here! I think there’s some halfway decent stuff on there.

In Character

Character | Cassius / Cassian Bhatt. I’m fine with keeping Ranveer!

What drew you to this character? | “But when you dare to look a monster in the eye, when you issue that kind of challenge, when you provoke a man who takes pride in evisceration, one gets exactly what they bargain for: destruction.” This line in particular is really what did it for me - I can draw parallels and lines between Orion and Cassian as much as I want, but Cassian really does have something Orion lacks, and that’s ambition on the large and small scale. He’s conniving, clever, and most importantly, rooted in reality. Cassian is a realist; I think he knows what he lacks and what he has and even then where things can go wrong. He does his best to be a few steps ahead, and when all else fails, at least has some sort of back-up plan in mind. He holds the scales of justice - how could he ever want to be anything besides justified? He’s the interesting sort of aloof that has men and women alike flocking to him, which is key to how he measures his success. If they want him, let them come. If not, then let them keep their distance. He knows by now that people are fickle, but he always keeps them close in spite of their grievances and changing plans - they’re important, and he can use them, and that’s what’s truly important.

And what Cassian uses, he eventually destroys. Individual things can only serve their purpose for so long before they don’t have any purpose at all, and being the pragmatic man he is, Cassian’s quick to discard of them before they get any ideas about ascending beyond where they need to be. Cassian knows he needs to rise, that others need to fall, and some need to stay exactly where they are, and that’s something I think he’s been taught to maintain all his life - not by his father, whom he detests, but by his mother, who taught him everything he knew and more that he has yet to discover. What I’d really like to explore is how Cassian got from point A to point B. How do you go from a boy who loses himself in historical nonfiction to a man who is so bitterly cruel it leaves people breathless? Does it make him sad to know he doesn’t quite feel in the capacity others might? I find him really intriguing, and that’s what drew me to him.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

He’s being used in the same way he uses others, at least by Mona, something that has Cassian on edge; he’s unfamiliar with the position that comes with being compromised. He’s not worried, though, and that’s dangerous - he should be worried if he knows any better, but instead of pulling, Cassian pushes. I want to see how this extortion thread unfolds - mostly with how it impacts his relationship with his Captain, with himself, and how the Capulets will see him if they see these photos. Cassian’s technically on a leash, and it might be a long one, but he’s not sure how much give he has left to run ahead, think he’s the one in charge, before it yanks back from the collar.

Marriage is nothing but another tool in his set, and frankly, Cassian doesn’t view Lillian as anything more than that. Sure, she’s a good woman, a respectable woman, had dose her part in acquiescing to the proposal, taking on his name as hers at some point in the future. Her sorrow in being married to a man who, frankly, neither loves nor cares for her isn’t much more than a footnote at the bottom of the page to Cassian. Lillian provides opportunity to make him look all the more golden than he already is. He’ll give her anything she asks for, present it to her wrapped in precious metals and distracting paper, but only because he needs her, and not because he necessarily wants her. A union of necessity is still a union, and I’d love to see the fracturing between Lillian and Cassian, and how that damages Cassian, how long it takes. Not necessarily emotionally, but in terms of his reputation, which is all that matters to him.

Matters of the heart are uncomfortable for Cassian, that’s clear enough. He’s alone, has been alone, and in his mind, will always be alone. He has no issues in isolation, so long as it’s something brought on by his own choices. When love cannot bring happiness, monetary gain and skill will bring pride. Cassian’s a proud man with a black hole for a heart that eats everything it touches without abandon - I’d love to see someone knock him down a peg, either through his work or through emotional investment that he hasn’t really prepared himself for.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yep!

In Depth

In-Character Para Sample:

The first fifteen minutes of dinner are quiet. There’s not much noise beyond shifting in their seats, chewing, the clattering - as little of it as possible - of silverware against intricate-looking plates. Cassian notes that his mother looks exhausted, something not entirely unremarkable, but it’s not something he plans on asking about. He’d learned early on in life that asking Vahina Bhatt about anything she deemed unnecessary was futile. She’d answer with some notion of work, the governance of Verona, how much it grates on her temper and her time, fundraising - that sort of thing. Some off-the-cuff scandal that he might want to look into.

His father, halfway down the table, appears to be chewing not just on food but his words as well. “That Wen girl,” Naadir begins, because of course he would ask about the one topic Cassian has no interest in, “what do you think?”

Cassian gulps down a mouthful of wine in an attempt to both steel himself and delay an answer. He’s not sure what he thinks of her. She’d been relatively meek upon their first meeting, he’d thought, nothing like the diamond in the rough her mothers had made her out to be. But she’d been beautiful. More than beautiful. An effigy of grace, style, composition. She had followed the plans laid out for their first interaction to a T: introduction, dinner, discussion of the future, and a soft goodnight at the door. All in all, it had played out smoothly.

But their personalities don’t mix, and she seems flat. Static. Where Cassian finds himself confrontational, up front, willing to start a conversation on the intricacies and justification of law, social standards, she is reserved, an even line to the set of her mouth. She had smiled, yes, but it hadn’t been genuine. Maybe that’s for the best, Cassian thinks. None of this will be genuine. He has no love for her, she has no love for him, he doesn’t intend on saying anything of the sort. Not even in their vows, for the wedding to come. There will be no declarations of adoration. She’ll look nice with his Versace loafers, he thinks, for dinner parties and galas.

“She’ll be a good wife,” he replies, tone flat. His father hums, unsurprised by the lack of poetry frothing from his son’s mouth. Cassian has never been a romantic, after all, and that’s where their divide has always rested: a crack in the earth, widening from his younger years to where they are now. Vahina watches from the head of the table, glass of cabernet sauvignon in hand, a soft curve to her lips. But she’s looking at Cassian, not her husband, and if he were still a boy, he might as well gleamed with pride.

The ring he’s chosen for her, to announce to the world that she’ll be his, isn’t particularly extravagant. A golden band, with a green diamond atop, surrounded by smaller white cut jewels. It’s flashy - but not too flashy, so as not to imply vanity. He doesn’t say much else on the matter of his newfound fiancee, and his father knows better than to press, so he listens to his mother ask about his new courses at the university, given that it’s a new year. He ponders other things until the meal is done and he’s being nudged towards the door.

The ring is still on his mind as he’s driven home, as he closes the front door behind him, settles in his study for the night to look into the case Cosimo had called him about the other evening: the Bhatts are not a vain bloodline - they are seekers of knowledge, growth. The viridescent tint won’t be for envy, or a mark of ownership, but for nature. An indication of development, he thinks, that she will grow into the person he needs her to be. Isn’t that poetry enough?

Extras: An instrumental playlist, and because it’s a bit corny, but here’s the wedding ring I was looking at for Lillian!

#accepted #accepted: cassius

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gduncan969 · 3 years ago

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Practical Love

John 21: 15 -17 15 So when they had eaten breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me more than these?” He said to Him, “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.” He said to him, “Feed My lambs.”

16 He said to him again a second time, “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me?” He said to Him, “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.” He said to him, “Tend My sheep.”

17 He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me?” Peter was grieved because He said to him the third time, “Do you love Me?” And he said to Him, “Lord, You know all things; You know that I love You.” Jesus said to him, “Feed My sheep.

Two weeks ago I officiated at my granddaughter, Gillian’s marriage to her fiancé, Mark, joining them in the “holy bond of matrimony” as my minister’s service book describes it. The essential part of any wedding service—“Do you take this woman/this man...repeat after me, I take thee...I now pronounce you husband and wife”—takes all of about ten minutes so there’s ample time for the minister to spend a few moments speaking to everyone in attendance about what a Christian marriage is and more importantly, the gospel message that is its foundation. Wedding services are typically attended by some who may never have heard the gospel or may have become lukewarm to its life-changing message, so it presents a welcome opportunity to tell them how God loves them and has made provision for them to become His through the death and resurrection of His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. But how do you fit that into a marriage ceremony that can be completed in under ten minutes? The mother of the bride (my daughter) told me I had ten minutes to preach but no more. My reaction was that “sermonettes” are for “Christianettes” and I have no time for either so I spent some time pondering what I would say and how short I would take to say it. Here are some of my thoughts.

God’s Reason For Marriage

Christian marriage is a commitment before God to love another person so intently and so intensely that you become one with them for the rest of your life. Both Matthew and Mark record the words of Jesus who said about marriage: “For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh” (Matthew 19:5 and Mark 10:7). Most Christians, whether married or single, are familiar with this scripture but if you ask them what’s the reason Jesus is referring to i.e. what’s the reason a man will leave his father and mother, they are uncertain how to answer and that uncertainty is one of the reasons why so many married Christians end up in the divorce courts today. Marriage in this “enlightened” society we now live in has been degraded to an agreement between two people of the same or opposite sex to live together as long as they both shall love and the promises they make to each other are to be kept as long as they both agree to keep them. Is it any wonder that more than half of all couples live together before marriage and most of those never get around to marrying anyway because it is an institution that binds people legally to each other for no purpose other than to make it expensive to separate, so why bother. The “reason” Jesus was referring to in Matthew and Mark is found right at the beginning of the bible in Genesis 2: 21 -24.

21 And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall on Adam, and he slept; and He took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh in its place.

22 Then the rib which the Lord God had taken from man He made into a woman, and He brought her to the man.

23 And Adam said: “This is now bone of my bones And flesh of my flesh; She shall be called Woman, Because she was taken out of Man.”

24 Therefore (FOR THIS REASON—added) a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.

My guess is that Adam took one look at Eve and immediately said, “Wow! She’s mine. She was taken out of me and I want her back where she belongs.” I’m also sure Eve was googly-eyed by what she heard him say and how he said it. (A Christian medical doctor once explained to me that men are aroused by what they see and women by what they hear—a lesson husbands and wives should pay attention to. It also explains why the current pandemic of pornography affects almost entirely men). Now, there’s much more to Christian marriage than physical attraction so what do you tell a young couple about to be married about how to love each other? The apostle Paul puts it this way: (Ephesians 2:25-28, 33)

25 Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself for her,

26 that He might sanctify and cleanse her with the washing of water by the word,

27 that He might present her to Himself a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing, but that she should be holy and without blemish.

28 So husbands ought to love their own wives as their own bodies; he who loves his wife loves himself.

33 Nevertheless let each one of you in particular so love his own wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband.

Practical Love

The above verses instruct all married couples to love one another but what does that mean in practical terms. The English word “love” is so broad in meaning that it has to be connected to the object to be loved before we can get a sense of what it means to say I love something or someone. I love bananas; I love golf; I love my dog; I love my cottage by the lake; I love my wife and kids; in every case the object being loved is needed to explain what kind of love we are talking about but this is where things get can get tricky for newlyweds (and a lot of oldweds too)! When we describe the love young couples have for each other, we think in terms of Romance—a word rooted in the days of chivalry when knights of old treated the ladies with all the respect and decorum they deserve. Romantic love is brim-full of the affection each has for the other but there’s a lot more to practical (biblical) love than affection and the difference is found in the conversation Jesus had with Peter after He had been raised from the dead.

The verses from John 21:15-17 at the beginning of this article show Jesus asking Peter three times, “Do you Love me?” but it doesn’t explain why he asks. Considering that Jesus had just risen from the dead and appeared to the disciples a few times, we might guess the first time Jesus appeared to Peter (John 20:19) it must surely have caused Peter some very anxious moments. Here was Jesus alive in the flesh a few days after he had denied Him three times in the garden (John 18: 17, 25, 26) and worse still, it says in Matthew 26:72, Peter denied him with cursing! I’m sure when Jesus appeared in their midst the first time, Peter looked around for a hole to crawl into. So, it is understandable that Peter would be feeling very awkward when Jesus asked him three times, “Do you love me?”. “Is Jesus still angry with me for denying Him with curses, does He still doubt that I love Him?” he must have thought, so three times he reassures Jesus that he loves Him while struggling with why Jesus was questioning him. Was Jesus being a little sadistic and cruel, maybe trying to get His own back on the traitor who cursed Him? Of course not! That’s as far as the east is from the west in Jesus’ nature.

Jesus was teaching Peter a lesson about practical love and it’s a lesson for all young newlyweds and the rest of us too. To explain this, we need to get around the vagueness of the English word “Love”. The first time Jesus asked Peter (verse 15), “Do you love me..” he uses the Greek word Agape—“Peter, do you agape me?” Agape love is sacrificial love where you love someone enough to lay down your life for them even when they don’t deserve it and it expects no reward for doing so! Agape love is always associated with action. Peter doesn’t get the message and responds with, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you” but his word for love is phileo—meaning great affection. “Yes, Lord, you know that you are very dear to me and I have the greatest affection for you,” to which Jesus responds “Feed my lambs”, a response which seems somehow disconnected from the matter in hand—does Peter love Jesus? Verse 16 repeats the whole process and Peter still doesn’t get the message because he’s still thinking Jesus doubts what great affection Peter has for Him. Once again, the Lord responds with “Feed my sheep”. Verse 17 repeats the whole process for the third time but with one important change: Jesus asks the third time, “Peter do you Phileo me?” (essentially asking “Peter are we still friends?”) and Peter responds as before but now he’s really upset because it’s becoming obvious to him that Jesus doesn’t believe him. But once again, Jesus responds with His seemingly disconnected request, ”Feed my sheep”.

What’s going on here and what does it say to newlyweds and the rest of us? It is this: JESUS IS VERY PLEASED THAT WE HAVE GREAT AFFECTION FOR HIM BUT IF WE REALLY WANT TO LOVE HIM, GET OUT THERE IN THE DIRT AND SQUALOR AND DAILY GRIND AND FEED HIS SHEEP! Feeling great affection for Him is not enough unless it motivates us to do the work he has called us to do. For newlyweds, having great affection for each other won’t be enough later on when the baby’s diaper is full and it’s not your turn to change it but you’re the only one around! Great affection may not cover a husband who won’t lower the toilet seat and it won’t cover a cheating husband who is found out and repentant. Our affections are very much tied to our emotions and emotions can be very fickle when crises come—and come they will! Jesus wanted Peter (and the rest of us) to understand that we can only really love Him by feeding His sheep and doing that means living for others no matter how we feel. As a pastor, I was once asked what’s the worst thing about being a pastor? With tongue in cheek I answered: “having to work with Christians!” On some days, my tongue would not have been in my cheek because Christians as a group can be some of the most cantankerous you will ever meet but then again, they are also the most loving. For all those who say they love Jesus, who say they believe in Him, who sing His praises and read his bible but fail to ACT on His behalf, they are among those of whom the Lord speaks in Matthew 15:8 “These people draw near to Me with their mouth, And honor Me with their lips, But their heart is far from Me.” Remember the ten lepers Jesus healed and how only one returned to give thanks. Ten were healed but only one was saved. The other nine no doubt thought very highly of Him and perhaps had great affection for Him but it didn’t produce any works for Him. James puts it more succinctly in James 2:20 “..faith without works is dead”.

All of us who seek to follow the Lord Jesus because we love Him must accept the challenge that loving Him brings. There is a great malaise in the western Church today, beautifully explained in the book by Mark Buchanan “Your Church Is Too Safe” (Zondervan 2012) where he details how we have slid into the morass of self-interest and a “feel-good” mentality which largely excludes sacrificial (agape) love and stays clear of the dirt and squalor in much of modern life. Our churches are, indeed, too safe but that makes them only more lifeless. Another pastor friend once explained that a church can either be a morgue where everything is neat and tidy and in place but dead or it can be an emergency ward where the floor and walls are blood-spattered but the room is full of action, full of life. Which one do you belong to?

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gallusrostromegalus · 8 years ago

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This is a weirdly-specific question but I can't help but wonder what the cryptid community thinks of the show Grimm. Do they hate it more than Twilight? (I wanted to participate but couldn't think of a better question I'm sorry :s)

(i actually know nothing about the show b/c i am a goblin that lives under a rock without broadcast tv) BUT this is a great time to talk about cryptids and their relation to popular mythology:

The brothers Grimm are a running Bitter Joke in the crypt community, becuase there ARE some beings old enough to remember those little shits and how vile they were, and they NEVER stop talking smack about them, and more importantly, telling the REAL stories.

It’s especially important to the North American Cryptids to keep The Old Stories alive, becuase they tell you the TRUTH about elves and fairies- they are fickle and capricious and cruel, because They Do Not Understand.

And the fairies are just vicious little shits.

Like really, if you’ve got to pick between a rabid badger and a fairy, pick the badger.

Bram Stoker is an even bigger Bitter Joke, and calling a vamp any variation of “Dracula” is ground for getting your teeth knocked in.

Among the things Stoker Got Wrong: Vampirism is technically contagious, but only by extreme means that involve the ‘victim’ drinking/absorbing the vamp’s blood.

It’s neither easy nor pleasant

getting bitten won’t make you their thrall and frankly you BDSM people who go around harassing vamps because “I wanna be your slave” need to STOP

The vamp community was doing REALLY WELL for a while there after the monster movie craze had died down and people started leaving them alone AND THEN TWILIGHT HAPPENED.

AND SUDDENLY CREEPY VAMP AND WERE FANS ALL OVER THE PNW, INVADING CLUBS AND UUUUUGH

Basically, the crypt community faces some pretty big issues with fetishization in the human groups that acknowledge they exist and Queer Cryptids doubly so.

The Stereotype of “Dangerous Monster” is really teritary after the issues of “The Government Says You Don’t Exist” and “I’m a fan for all the wrong reasons”

#Marion and Alex Ruin Seattle #cryptid #vampire #grimm #twilight #squimble-the-slug-witch

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abucketofdumbos · 8 years ago

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At Any Cost Chapter One

“Are you sure this is what you want?,” Arthur’s voice inquired, “ You are not obligated to serve for your people, Norei. You could stay here, you could tinker in the city’s shops-”

“I thought we’d already had this conversation.” Norei interjected, Arthur’s eyes scanning the back of her head. She was nineteen then, young enough to be annoyed with his concern, but to him she still looked like the his ten year old daughter that he’d read to every summer night. To him she’d always look that way, young and pure. The nineteen year old version of her was too real, too painful.

Norei’s fingers fiddled with the new tabard, its emboldened gold and royal blue crest took no shame in declaring its affiliation with Stormwind. All would know she was serving the Alliance, and she liked it that way. This had been her purpose, to break free of the constraints of a life entirely sheltered within the city. To become a great engineer, to aid her people in their time of need. She would vow to serve and protect and that fact alone was reassurance she had found comfortable purpose in her life.

“Will you be on the front..?” Her father's voice inquired once more, she was unaccustomed to this much concern. Her father was a stern man of great conviction and purpose, he had molded her a moral compass and worldview that did not account for doubt. She gave another annoyed sigh, fidgeting with the tabard once more. It was too big. She’d needed to gain at least ten pounds to fill it out.

“No, Dad. We’ve discussed this,” she said turning to meet his eye line, “they’ve commissioned engineers to aid in the maintenance of their air fleets while they investigate the cataclysm. I will travel where they deem fit, and I will repair. We won't be fighting.” She closed the gap between them to wrap her arms tightly around his midsection. Her father towered well over Norei, and his meaty arms wrapped her into a cloak of warmth that had always left her feeling secure. Arthur himself had turned a cheek to stare desolately at her newly empty room. He had prepared himself for the day his daughter would leave, but nothing could prepare him for how fast it would come, or exactly the way in which it did.

Norei had begun to peel away from him, gleaming a proud and excited smile. The moment of bliss was short lived, her features fell as she regarded the purple robes and tabard that she’d just held tightly in hand. The symbol of the Kirin Tor was painted in metallic over the fabric,his robes thick and dense in preparation for Northrend’s cold.

“Are you not…?” Norei managed breathlessly.

“We must remain diplomatic, Norei.” Arthur’s voice struggled to find the power it often demanded, he refused to allow her to hear the choking nature of his speech.

“Dip-diplomatic? We are battling over land grabs, we are-” she took a pained step back, “we are at war, Father. Diplomacy does not return the lives of those lost.” Her voice trailed, eyes welling with painful tears.

“The Kirin Tor are more united than ever, my love. Diplomacy has carried us through the terrors of Northrend. Diplomacy has provided for us greatly, Norei. Please understand.” Arthur’s hand reached for her then, but caught on to nothing. He suppressed a pained whimper as he watched her dodge his grasp. She would not understand, he only wished she would. Boldness had manifested in many forms within his daughter, but more often than not it appeared in the desire for justice, a righteous passion for good.

“No, I understand. It is fine,” Norei dismissed promptly, “where is Mother? Is she feeling ill today-”

“She was summoned to Dalaran. She is well,” Arthur’s voice cut in this time, sharp and dismissive. His eyes stared pleadingly down at the girl, wishing she would not inquire more, and hoping she would understand why they could not follow.

“Will- will I see you again soon?” Norei’s voice cracked with a touch of sadness. Her eyes sliding over the hardwood floors of her childhood home.

“We will see you again, Norei. Back here, together, as we belong.” Arthur’s hand tucked under her gaunt little chin and brought her gaze back to his own. A gentle smile grew on both of their faces and a quick bump of their foreheads before they collided together again in a hug. It was a fiercely affectionate hold on one another and neither particularly wanted to break from it, but life was fickle. A bell sounded far off in the distance, from the city’s clock tower. The two broke apart quickly as Arthur ushered her to grab her items. Hemming and hawing over her pack and running over a list of pointless items that he just had to be certain she packed. It was almost like the moment had come and gone without him even recognizing it. Soon he was staring out the open window of his living room watching the blonde frock of hair, cut close to her head, flopping gently in the wind as she bobbed and weaved smoothly through the streets.

“She will serve the cause well,” A familiar voice remarked behind Arthur. His wife ambled slowly from their room where she’d remained behind closed doors. He turned quickly and hustled to her side, his hand slipping protectively to the small of her back and his other guiding her palm into his own. He helped her gaunt form shuffle into the room and towards the window, catching the last few glimpses of Norei before she rounded a corner towards the docks. His wife was undeniably sickly looking, weak and wiry, from her frame to the sunken nature of her eyes.

“We must tell her Rose, she has the right to know about her own Mother.” Arthur stared blankly at the spot where he’d last seen his daughter. Almost expecting in some cruel twist of fate that he may be permitted just one last glimpse.

“No, Arthur. We will endure, we will endure without troubling her,” she sniffled, “to endure, Arthur, to simply endure is to triumph. We will endure, for her and for the greater good.” Rose's voice trembled just on the edge of sobbing.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Norei shot up in bed, the visage of her dream slowly fading. The haziness of the planes of her imagination becoming a distant speck as the clouds of her eyes shifted and her irises refocused on the room before her. She was heaving large and labored breaths, hyperventilating loudly whilst examining the barren and unfamiliar room she was in. Something groaned next to her, obviously annoyed by all the fuss she was creating, it was then that her eye caught the familiar glimpse of Flynn’s broad shoulders. He was rolled onto the completely opposite side of the bed, one foot dangling dangerously over the edge of the bed and free from the sheets. Her chest fell and rose in sweeping waves of terror, slowly but inevitably subsiding.

She was an idiot, a complete idiot of a woman. Had she not learned her lesson? Had she not experienced that exact nightmare enough times to know its purpose?

She had run through the scenario a thousand times, deciding each time just exactly how the moment could have played out. How exactly they had decided to not tell her of her mother's progressing ailment, why exactly they’d done it, and more importantly- how they’d lived with the lie. But somehow, miraculously, through all the iterations her mind always came back to this one. Her first day of deployment, her mother tucked away in a bedroom, her father remaining poised and diplomatic. Her mind replayed it like a collection of family photos, once lost only to be found again, heartwarming but cold.

She slipped gently off of the bed, collecting her items before turning to regard Flynn’s sleeping form. She rifled through her pack to produce a folded parchment and an enchanted quill, hesitating as she stood there feeling vulnerable in entirely the wrong way. She was supposed to write something. She was supposed to do the right thing here. But how did one say in only so many words what she felt then? She had compartmentalized these feelings for so long, she’d built them up, broken them down, and packaged them neatly away into the recesses of her soul. Things had been different for months now, though. Little moments like this leaked their way out through a crack in the corner of her mind where she’d hidden them. She pushed the items back into her bag, cursing gently under her breath, and tip toeing gently from the room and down the hallway of his loft. She collected the remainder of her belongings, stealing a quick glass of water, which she downed in an instant, before exiting the home entirely.

#Malanorei #i wrote a serious thing #i hate it a bit #but its not fluff #and i promised myself i needed to write one none cutesy thing

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valentina-rising · 8 years ago

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“You forfeit all rights to my heart.”

date: September 23rd, 1997 time: 1:45 p.m location: Baptista e la banca azienda, Verona. ( Baptista&Co Bank )

❝ And all I remember is your back leaving us all in your past.

But piece by piece, I collected me up off the ground, where you ABANDONED things and piece by piece we filled the holes that you burned in us at seven years old. ❞

The bank was relatively calm, serene for a Thursday afternoon, and did nothing to calm the bundle of emotions churning in the stomach of the young girl passing through its doors. A boy followed behind, pleading too softly for anyone else to overhear. But she was a hurricane, tearing down anyone in her path and quieting his words with a pained, pleading look of her own. She needed to know, they both deserved to know. After everything of the past two weeks it felt only right. The only thing left for the Gallo twins to call their own would be the answers that only one of them truly desired with every fiber of her being. Acceptance was a fickle, damaging road. Valentina had not yet crossed its paths. Oh, she was ever consumed in anger, denial, bargaining for something she couldn’t put a name to. Santino was ushered back out by his sister, with the promise she would only be a few minutes at most.

It had only been two days before this that they were delivered to the steps of the orphanage, a bag each to their name and a pitying look from the woman who led them inside. In truth, their new residence wasn't terrible but it wasn't a home. It wasn't a FAMILY, something that even if she did not feel a deep seeded need for, meant nothing of how deserving her brother was of one. Santino was hope, her happy in days of nothing but realizations of hurt and a nagging sensation that maybe this had been their plan all along. She wouldn't fault him for his desires of hope, longing for the explanation that their parents had simply held their best interests at heart. But she often felt like as his other half, her role was the darkened, dingy and dented side of the silver and solid coin of his composition. It stung with a swiftness easily soothed, for she would do anything for him, and knew he felt the same.

Valentina made her way to one of the teller windows, tapping on the glass impatiently. -Tap tap tap TAP, the staccato rhythm abruptly halted by a sharp sound. A voice of the woman behind the glass inquired if she was lost, the saccharine layer to her words setting the Gallo girl on edge within moments.

" -’m not lost Signora. I was hoping someone could give me some answers I was looking for? My parents--"

"Tesoro, I cannot reveal anything without a parent or guardian here. Unless you are of age. Are you?" The light sneer sent her way was painted a glossed rosy pink and she swore she'd never hated a color so viscerally.

"You're not able to tell me of anything? Please, they're gone Signora. They left us. I need to know if they took it all with them! This was their plan, I think. I feel it in my heart and all I need is a yes or a no. It's your job, banks handle money right?! I said please, just..just DO it.!"

The end of her speech had her voice rising steadily, turning the heads of a few nearby patrons who looked on with distaste. Valentina loathed these towering men and women, the strings of gold around their necks dripping with privilege and egos almost palpably. To a child who was kept clothed and fed by necessity rather than desire, it felt cuttingly cruel in its elegance.

“Si terribile donna malvagia! chi devo parlare per le risposte? Tu e il tuo brutta faccia siedi lì e non fare nulla! ”

"--Little girl if you cannot lower your tone this very minute.."

"---It is alright Fiora, I will take it from here. I'm sure the little one would prefer to talk about this privately, no?"

Spinning in place brought her to look up into the face of an aging man, with heavy lines across his face and a contrived smile she hated upon sight.

"Signore! I---I just wanted answers. For my brother."

"Of course you do. Come over here with me and we can talk. " and with a final glare towards the teller, so they did.

Sat in an overstuffed chair so tall her legs didn't touch the ground, Valentina blurted it all out. Coming home to an empty and silent home, she and her brother managing a week on their own inside the house before a neighbor took notice and called the people who brought them to the orphanage. And most importantly, the knowledge her father kept his money here, that the records of their account were somewhere behind those stone archways. Did he know where they went to? If they planned on returning?

She was studied for a moment, watching him in return as he took in the state of her hands, how she clenched them instinctively to fight the shake to them and only exacerbated the scrapes across her knuckles. Her pale green eyes made impossibly large with the shadows underneath them. ( a recent development. Valentina slept nowhere she felt unsafe or vulnerable, and the orphanage often felt like one huge, exposed wound on her psyche)

"--Miss Gallo, if you will give me a moment. I will be back."

It was more than a moment. It was ten excruciating minutes spent avoiding eyes of others, and then staring openly in defiance when they found her gaze anyway. But then he had returned to her, the look of pity and resigned annoyance lingering in his form.

"Miss Gallo... Signorina I am very sorry for what has happened to you and your brother. But there is nothing I nor the bank can do for you further than telling you this. The accounts in that name were swept clean, debts paid, a near fortnight ago. There is nothing. "

"...Nothing." It hollowed out in her chest, the knowledge of being right. Oh how she'd wished to be wrong for the sake of the boy waiting outside.

"You had to have known. You just let them take it all and go?! How could you do that? How do you sleep--"

She watched as he seemed to grow before her, cold and steeled against the tirade of a child. "Signorina I assure you it is not the job of Baptista&Co to account for people who do not seemingly love nor care for their children. No one can force that I'm afraid. I am very sorry, but you should go."

The words felt like a blow, and it was one too many for her own battered pride as she launched herself from the chair back to the tiled floors.

"Vaffanculo! Tu non sai niente della mia famiglia. Nessuno dei miei genitori! Ti siedi lì, tutti voi e agire come se hai guadagnato questo in qualche modo, quando è stato consegnato alla bocca in attesa di voi con un cucchiaio d'argento. Che tipo di mostri dice ad un bambino? si sono fottutamente terribile e può andare all'inferno!”

She was cut off with a yelp, a strong grip to her upper arm sure to bruise the pallid skin with its ferocity. The security guard didn't hesitate to pull her away towards the entrance, the brunette spitting words of venom and shouts of curses no child should know with all her might.The bright sun of Verona’s afternoon greeted her, as did the hesitant and harrowed face of her brother. Chest heaving, it was nearing three minutes before she could bring herself to utter words beyond the trembling of her body, leaning against him for strength.

"I’m sorry, Tino. They---they left us. Well and truly. The money is gone. Credit paid and accounts drained. They planned it. They didn't want us. I'm so sorry.” Her throat cracked, the emotions building in it and making her words little more than a choked gasp as it all sunk in. “I thought...I don't know what to do anymore. How COULD they?"

Sinking to the corner of the street, she felt an arm around her and leaned into the comfort of it, familiar and still so very much hers. They would always have one another, that much she knew. Nothing in this world would tear her brother from her, she would burn this city and its people to the ground for anyone who dared threaten that.

Silence flitted between them, until she could swallow past the lump in her throat and the unwanted wetness in her eyes had receded. A hand held out in question, no hesitation as she took it and stood and began to make their way back to the orphanage. “I-I’m okay. You and me. Always. We’re all we need and i’ll make this okay, kay? I promised you that, remember?” Whether she was saying for his benefit or her own was left to be said.

That year was a year of lessons, that very day full of one she wouldn’t forget.

The world was cruel, so you must be crueler. Harden your heart little girl, only you can save yourself.

No one would ever see her cry. No one would enter her heart and shatter it the way her parents had. To love freely is to bleed freely, and was a fate she wouldn’t allow. The love she held for Santino was all she would ever allow. With so much to live for, and so very much to die for it was them against the world, and the world wouldn’t know what hit them.

--’finito

#{ self para }.#u can thank bree for this ok #blessbunny2k17 #this also got too long rip my soul #tl:dr val has issues ok #mine

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