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juletheghoul · 3 years

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Oblivius Chapter 5

I have so many feelings about these two, Spills & Francis may be two idiot babies but they're my idiot babies and I LOVE them. Lots of yearning in this chapter, and maybe a different side to Claudia.👀

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, mentions of alcohol / being drunk (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 4 Part 6 Playlist

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Age 18:

His truck was full.

He was driving, you were shotgun - like always - and there were three more friends in the back. The trunk held boogie boards and towels, sunscreen and a cooler full of food and drinks.

You got there early enough that you found a good spot and within half an hour you were completely set up. There were three big beach blankets spread out with two big umbrellas to hide under when the sun got too hot.

“Spills, can you get my back?” He was handing you the sunscreen as he pulled his shirt up.

You were momentarily taken aback, you’d known him for so long, this wasn’t your first beach trip but he looked… good.

You spent a little longer than you should have making sure every inch of the golden skin of his back and shoulders was covered in sunscreen. Making sure to dip your hands just under the band of his swim trunks. When he turned he had a big smile and you had to ignore the way your stomach flipped.

Get a grip, it’s just Francis.

You couldn’t get a grip though, not with the way butterflies swarmed in your stomach whenever you paid attention to him. His hair was growing out a bit, curling slightly at the edges. You’d never thought about him this way and you had to keep reminding yourself to look away.

Later on in the day when you were in the water you played the same games you’d played since you were kids and when you jumped on his back he didn’t push you away; his skin warm from the sun. Instead he let you wrap your legs around him and everything felt right.

“You okay back there?” He laughed as he held onto the back of your knees.

“Peachy.” You smiled as you held on.

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**Present Day**

“Hola Mijo, you better go in there and calm her down.” His mom greeted him at the door when he walked in, her eyebrows raised at him.

“Hola mami, what happened?” He kissed her on the cheek like he always did before making his way further into the house. She couldn’t say - just that Claudia was upset. He was walking towards her, but his mind was still back with Spills. He could still smell her hair as he made his way into the den.

It’s the same shampoo, she still uses the same shampoo. Focus Francisco.

Claudia was almost shouting into her cellphone.

“Well I need it here sooner than that. My wedding is in three weeks and I need everything to be perfect - so I don’t give a shit what you have to do to get my dress here in time but you better find a way to do it!” She was looking daggers at him and he let her finish the phone call before he spoke.

“What’s going on babe?” He put his hands on her arms and started trying to calm her but she shrugged out of his grasp.

“What’s wrong Francisco, is that I told you this would be difficult.” She wasn’t yelling but her tone was icy. “How am I supposed to get married without a wedding dress. Would have been fine if we were back home.”

Not this again.

“Claudia, I told you when we got engaged that I wanted to get married here and you agreed. I explained to you very clearly that I’ve been away from my home, my life, my family - my friends for years and I wanted to get married here. Now tell me what the problem is.” He wanted his feelings to be clear. He loved Claudia, he really did. She was sweet and beautiful and she treated him well. She could be a little spoiled though and if he didn’t put his foot down now, he’d never have a choice about anything ever again.

He would not live his life that way.

“Yes I know I agreed, and for the most part I’m okay with it. I know your whole life is here, but it would have been so easy to get married there.” She pouted and it didn’t invoke the feeling it should have. It didn’t spur him to try to please her, it annoyed him.

He momentarily thought about when Spills pouted up at him, it never annoyed him. He pushed the thought away.

“Maybe, but we’re not getting married there. We’re getting married here, now what can we do? Let's look for a solution.” He softened up at her a little bit, after all he wanted her to be happy.

She sighed loudly and put her arms around his neck, her voice got a little higher as she tried to appeal to him.

“Frankie, baby- I just want everything to be perfect.”

That doesn’t work on me.

“Let’s just try to have everything go smoothly. It’ll be our day regardless, right?” He put his hands on her waist to bring her close, trying to get her out of her head.

“How long do we have to stay here Francisco?” She leaned back to look up into his face and he sighed.

“We have to talk about that, after the wedding we’re going back to stay with your family for a little while but then we have to talk about where we’re going to live.” He held her, but she pulled away.

“I don’t want to live here after Francisco. I appreciate that you grew up here and everything and we can visit but I do not want to live here.” She crossed her arms petulantly, and he took a deep breath to steady himself. They’d spoken about this before and she had agreed to give it an honest try, but they’d been in town less than a week and already she was telling him she hated it.

“You can’t know that in three days babe.” He sat on the couch.

When they agreed to get married - he’d been scared of this, he’d been scared that she’d do this. He knew she loved him, and he loved her - as much as he could - but the look on her face when he’d put his foot down about spending this time at home should have told him everything.

She didn’t say anything, she sat with him and reluctantly agreed.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just miss home. I’ll give it another shot.” She sounded genuine and he wanted to believe that. “How was your night with Spills? Is she feeling better?” She smiled at him, putting her hand on his thigh and he placed his over hers. A silent truce.

“She’s doing much better, we ate dinner and watched a movie.” He held her hand as he spoke and she smiled at him.

“I’m glad to hear that - hopefully she doesn’t get that drunk at the wedding.” She laughed lightly.

He knew she didn’t mean it in a nasty way, but he bristled at her words.

“She was just nervous about meeting all of you, and even if she did it would be fine. Everyone gets drunk at weddings.” He tried not to sound defensive but she raised her eyebrows at him. “I just don’t want you to think that she’s a mess. She’s like a-” He couldn’t say sister, he’s never thought of her as a sister. She was so much more. “She’s just really important to me.”

“I know babe. I didn’t mean it like that, she seems sweet.” She smiled at him. She was still trying to get back in his good graces, taking his defensiveness as residual anger. Thankfully.

“We should plan something for all of us to do together. It could give us more time to bond.” He thought about it momentarily then agreed, he knew exactly what to plan.

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There was something playing on the TV, you caught vague flashes - people talking but you weren’t taking anything in. Your sweatshirt smelled like Frankie and all you wanted was to cuddle up to him. He had been so sturdy beside you, so strong and comfortable.

What the fuck is a wedding emergency?

The mature - adult part of your brain said she was a nice person and if Frankie was with her it was for a reason. Obviously he was happy with her or he wouldn’t be marrying her. Frankie had never been the kind of person to settle.

The other part of your brain, the jealous possessive part told you she was a bitch. She was ruining the life you’d planned out with Frankie. If he’d never met her you’d be together now, laughing and planning the rest of your lives together. He’d be in your bed, or you’d be in his.

[Francis]: Hey Spills, we’re planning a get together for the wedding party - day after tomorrow - beach day. I’ll be there to pick you up at 7am.

It was like the universe was testing you. How many memories could he taint with Claudia?

[you]: sounds good, Claudia, you, me and who else in rustbucket?

[Francis]: Just you and I, and don’t call her that. Claudia’s family is coming so she’s going to ride to the beach with them. I’ll grab coffee on the way. =)

[you]: Hope you have a new tape in there, if I have to listen to queen I’ll jump out of the car

[Francis]: lol a ride is a ride Spills, see you then

[Francis]: was really nice hanging out with you today btw, goodnight

[you]: I had a great time with you - like always, thanks again for all the food, goodnight Francis!

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It was easy to ignore everything when you were getting work done, you had taken off a few days when you knew Francis would be home and you were taking advantage of it. The day before your beach trip was used to do all those little tasks you tended to put off.

Your laundry was done, the kitchen was clean, even the fridge had gotten a bit of elbow grease. Everything was ready and packed for the trip.

You tried not to think about the ride to the beach with Francis, you tried not to think back to your previous trips to the beach with him. Those memories were so precious and thinking about how your next memory would be with him, and his new in-laws was tearing you up inside.

Please let this go well, please don’t let me make a fool of myself.

You hoped someone was listening.

The anxiety didn’t let you sleep and you watched the clock crawl closer to morning; it seemed pointless to lay there.

Might as well get ready.

-----

He wasn’t nervous, but he wasn’t excited.

He made his way over to her house, stopping to grab coffee on the way. He thought about his conversation with Claudia, about the possibility of leaving this place. He really didn’t want to. He wanted to be close to his mom, he wanted to be close to his friends and his home.

I want to be close to Spills, I want to see her everyday.

He scolded himself, he was going to marry someone else. He kept trying to remind himself, but when he saw her walking towards his car it all went out the window.

God Spills, you’re killing me.

She put her beach bag and a small cooler in the backseat and got into his truck with a big smile, pushing all other thoughts out of his mind. He handed her the coffee he bought and she took it gratefully, brushing against his fingers, even now - she affected him so much.

Snap out of it Francisco, you aren’t a teenager anymore. This is your friend.

“Hazelnut?” She asked as she smelled the steam floating around her pretty face.

“Of course.” He pulled away from her place, making his way towards the highway. It would be an hour or so until they got to the beach.

“Open up.” The buttery bagel half she put into his mouth as he drove tasted better than he remembered.

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The drive was over much too soon.

If only it had lasted all day - catching him up on all the gossip he’d missed out on while away. Watching his excitement when he talked about flying, you could have listened to him talk forever.

“Finally!” Cheers rang out when the two of you arrived. The boys had set up a bunch of blankets and umbrellas and you suddenly remembered the state you’d been in the last time they saw you and you felt the blush creeping up.

Benny smiled big when he saw you, tapping the place beside him after you’d all said your hellos. You had no reason to deny him so you sat, setting up all your stuff within the space he made for you.

Blessedly, Claudia hadn’t arrived yet and you cherished this time without her, maybe it was mean - maybe it was selfish but you couldn't help it.

“Hey - Thanks for the other night, for getting me home and making sure I was okay.” Pope set up his stuff on the other side of you.

“No problem, glad to see you feeling better.” He was talking to you but you noticed him give Benny a curious look. Benny ignored it. You watched as Will and Frankie set up a volleyball net, you studied both men and there was no denying that Will was gorgeous; but your eyes were drawn to Frankie. You couldn’t help it, your eyes raked over him greedily.

He was so broad, stronger than he had been in his teen years and his belly had gotten a little softer with age but it suited him. He was gorgeous, he had always been gorgeous. He felt your eyes on him then and he smiled at you, walking over to you with the sunscreen in his hands like he always did. His smile faltered slightly when his gaze landed behind your place in the sand.

“Hey babe, how was the drive?” Claudia and her family had arrived and they were setting up just behind you.

Do you have some sort of alarm? How are you always ruining every single goddamn moment?

“It was hectic! Left a little later than I meant to but we survived.” She was breathless as she came to greet him. You busied yourself with something, anything in your bag to avoid watching them kiss. When you looked back she was squeezing sunscreen onto his back, rubbing the lotion much the same way you used to whenever you’d come to the beach together.

He didn’t meet your eyes when she did it, and you were thankful. You didn’t think you could handle seeing him enjoying her touch so much. Instead you focused on the people around you. You focused on Benny and Will and Pope, trying your best to ingratiate yourself to them. Hopefully erase the memory of you as a belligerent mess.

---

As the day went on you found that you liked these guys, not just as an extension of Francis - but because they were fun. They made you laugh, they spoke to you like they’d known you your whole life. They almost distracted you enough. You also noticed that Claudia was only here to lounge in the sun. She had absolutely no interest in getting in the water, no matter how many times she was asked by Frankie to join him.

He played it off like it didn’t bother him but you knew it did, and that in turn hurt you but your heart leapt when he turned to you.

“Spills, wanna come in the water with me?” He smiled and held out his hand and you gladly accepted. Following him in like you always had.

“Not much of a swimmer?” You couldn’t help but ask when the two of you were in the water.

“Not really, it’s a shame - the water's perfect today.” He floated, making sure to splash you and you waited until he was perfectly relaxed to splash him back. “God I love it here.” he spoke as he floated closer and closer.

“Me too. I want to live near the ocean one day.” You spoke absentmindedly, trying to feel for little shells or rocks as you walked further and further from the shore. He followed you.

You felt him splashing you from behind and you tackled him. The two of you turned into children in the water and it ended with you wrapped around his back like always. His hands on the back of your knees as you held on. You both watched the shore in silence, everyone too focused on whatever they were doing to notice your closeness and you were thankful for it. It made you hold on tighter, trying to get closer and he wrapped your legs around his tummy.

Maybe it was inappropriate, maybe if Claudia had been watching she would have had some words for him, or you, or both of you - but it didn’t stop you.

“Let’s just stay out here Spills. Let’s stay in the water forever.” He stroked the skin of your shins under the water and it was so hard not to cry right then and there. “Just you and me, living in the water.” He laughed but it came out sad.

“I’m game.” You rested your chin on his shoulder briefly and he bumped your head with his. This one little moment made the whole day worth it, and when he pulled away as you knew he would, your heart broke just a little bit more.

You were both wrong in your assumptions however. The moment you had thought was private, that you thought you’d stolen without anyone knowing had been seen and catalogued by someone on the shore. Pope had seen the whole thing, and he had some words for Francis.

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pekotranslates · 3 years

Text

Traces of Two Pasts: Episode Tifa - pgs 40-52

Disclaimer: Also, I started this for fun so that my friends who don't have access can read it. I'm just another fan like you. With that said, I do try to be as faithful to the original source material as possible, and for those of you who can read Japanese, please support the author by buying his book.

Not everyone agreed with Chief Zonder's decision. The elderly—a major force in the village—began to make noise. They seemed to take a liking to Zangan's longevity exercises, and regretted not being able to memorize what was taught to them. They wanted someone to check if their poses were correct, and wished to learn the remaining exercises he was supposed to have taught them.

The village chief paid a visit at dinnertime.

"Hey, Tifa..." he said with a sullen expression. "Will you teach the old folks how to do Zangan's exercises properly?"

"Why Tifa?" her father asked. She just knew he would ask.

"Because Zangan named her. Told me that if we ever needed someone to mentor us, Tifa would be qualified. Said that she had the most controlled form* out of everyone who gathered there that day.

Kata, which means “form” in Japanese, is the term used to describe specific sequences of motion that are used to practice technique and execution in martial arts

It pleased her knowing that someone spoke of her like that when not in her presence, but it also caused her to be slightly embarrassed.

"Zonder, don't get my family involved."

"Aw, c'mon! I'm already in big trouble as it is. The old folks just won't let it go!"

"Hmph!" Brian Lockhart snorted. He enjoyed seeing the village chief squirm. She couldn't tell whether or not they actually got along with each other.

"Tifa, what do you think?"

"I'd just be teaching the elderly people those exercises, right? If that's all there is, then I'd like to try."

"Tifa..." her father began, but he swallowed back his complaint. He knew that it wasn't good for her to have too much time on her hands. "Well, if you're gonna do it, then do it right."

While preparing breakfast, Tifa heard a knock at the door, and opened to a woman’s face she barely recognized. It was an elderly woman called "Mon Amie" who was an aunt of sorts to Chief Zonder. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tight that it looked like her eyes were being pulled straight up!

"Good morning to you. It's been a long time, Tifa. I heard that Zonder told you all about it. How about 2 gil per hour?"

"Sorry?" She had not heard about any renumeration.

"Well, you are thirteen now. Not a little girl anymore, so that doesn't cut it for you, eh? Alright then, how about 4 gil?"

"No, I don't want any money."

"That won't do. We are taking this very seriously, and you will be properly paid for your work."

No matter how much Zangan trusted her, would she really be up to the task? But, being able to earn her own money sounded very appealing, as if a whole new world had opened up to her.

Mon Amie took Tifa's silence as her wanting to bargain for higher wages.

"6 gil."

"Alright. 6 gil it is then."

"Brian never did leave the village. He wanted to keep Thea all to himself." Mon Amie suddenly brought up her parents during their exercise routine at the public square.

"Really?" said Tifa, adjusting Mon Amie's arm posture. She needed to get her to straighten her back and push out her chest a bit more for the desired result.

"She was quite the popular one, that child."

It wasn’t very pleasant hearing her mother being called "that child", yet Tifa encouraged her. Listening to the elderly tell old stories was a part of her job. The responsibility she felt from receiving wages tempered her patience.

"You should leave the village," said Mon Amie suddenly. "Doesn't it sound like fun going around to different places with Master Zangan?"

"It sure does."

"Alright, you don't have to play along with me. No need for you to learn things like that. Just think about it carefully, okay? Something needs to change for women here in Nibelheim."

Tifa silently nodded as she propped up Mon Amie's arm.

"There weren't any women around in my day who held this kind of thinking. But that Strife girl”—she was speaking of Cloud's mother—"tried to leave. Not sure if it's because she hated it here, or if she dreamed of going to the big city."

Mon Amie abruptly altered her pose, ruining her base form.

"To the traditional Nibelheim women, she seemed pretty unconventional. We all refused to accept her ways, but secretly felt the same. Even though we scolded her, deep down inside we were cheering her on. We even felt jealous of her for carving out her own path. Perhaps she changed something in us, little by little.”

Tifa lifted up Mon Amie's knee. "Up high like this. Thank you."

She supported Mon Amie as the woman’s body rocked back and forth.

"But Claudia remained in the village, didn't she?" said Tifa.

"Well, that’s because she fell in love. You see, a man traveled here. Claudia was helping out at the inn at the time. She must have been taken in by the outside air he brought with him. And he was a pretty fellow. I’m sure you see it when you look at Cloud. That boy got the best of both his parents!”

“Right…”

“But, just like the wind, he just couldn’t keep still. Not sure if Cloud learned how to walk yet, but around that time he told her he would go to the mountains, but never came back. They found his belongings though. His body probably got eaten by monsters. You were lucky you didn’t meet the same fate.”

Tifa braced herself. Was she going to bring up that incident?

“Cloud egging you on to climb Mt. Nibel… Maybe that was in his blood.”

Mon Amie’s body began to sway. Tifa had stopped holding onto her causing her to lose her balance. She couldn’t regain her footing in time, and fell flat down on her backside.

“Alright then," said Tifa. "Now let’s use the opposite leg. Please lift up your knee.”

Tifa held out a helping hand to her, but Mon Amie refused and got up on her own.

“Quite strict for a pretty face.”

“That’s because I get paid 6 gil to be.”

Before long, she became more attentive. She noticed Mon Amie lifting up her other knee, but it was at the wrong height again. While Tifa helped her to adjust, Mon Amie said, “You really don’t remember anything? You know, about that accident you got into?”

She was eight years old when she got into that accident on Mt. Nibel. Cloud was with her. The villagers chose to believe the story based on Emilio and the others’ testimonies, and nothing else could be said about it. Tifa really couldn't remember what happened.

"No, unfortunately not..."

Whether the elderly came to her for exercising or just to chat, it was tougher than she had imagined. Her father laughed at her and said he wouldn't have anything to do with them, even for 100 gil.

They never listened and were set in their ways, even the ones who kept away and smiled modestly at her. They just had a different view on things, and sulked if nobody paid them attention.

The topics they discussed also surprised Tifa, and sometimes hurt her too. She disliked whenever they brought up how her body looked so grown. There would be someone who sensed her discomfort or resentment, and would try to change the subject, but then it would turn into whom she should be with and things of that nature.

So, all things considered, Tifa preferred hearing them going on about herself rather than her father’s failed romances, or whom her mother used to hang out with before she got married to him. To the elderly townsfolk, her father and others his age were still “the village youth”.

After her day finished and she was about to go to sleep, she thought to herself that maybe there would be a time when she would be the one telling someone else about what happened today, or about some news she heard from another person. Telling the same stories over and over again, everyday just like the next, until she, herself, became just a relic of an era in village history.

※

“They confused me at first, but I got used to being around them, and then it wasn’t so bad anymore. That feeling of wanting someone to talk to—Everyone has that,” explained Tifa.

“So that’s where you learned to entertain guests? From spending your time talking to old folks?” asked Barret.

“Possibly. Maybe that did me good. More and more of the elderly signed up, and they started calling their morning gatherings the ‘Calisthenics Club’.”

“It’s like that at Seventh Heaven too,” said Barret with some intensity.

Aerith urged him to talk.

“It used to be just a small shop owned by this one gramps, but when Tifa started working there, the business picked up. Men crowded the place. Know what I mean, Red?”

“What I’m more interested in is what happened to Zangan afterward? I can sort of imagine based on your fighting style, Tifa...” said Red XIII.

“You’re right. There was a little more that happened before I got to where I'm at.”

※

A month passed after the start of the Calisthenics Club. All morning Tifa would teach the exercises and set aside time for her reading and arithmetic. The afternoon she'd go to the mountains and work hard towards building up her strength and stamina, and then would return home before sunset so her father wouldn’t worry. At night she would examine Zangan's writings and practice her form, reviewing the materials over and over again so as to not overlook anything.

One day, she received a letter from Emilio. He wrote about the fast-paced lifestyle in the big city, and told her about everything he found perplexing: arguments he had had with people, things he ate, the social inequality, and their differences in moral values.

“But whenever I get discouraged, it’s you I think about, Tifa, and then I imagine that day when I’ll come and get you. I'll write to you sometimes and teach you about the city, so you won't be so confused when that time comes.”

Who do you think you are? That's how she honestly felt reading the letter.

Zangan appeared, acting as if nothing had happened. He knocked on the door just in time to greet her father and asked for his permission to call Tifa out, and then led her to the river where they first met.

“Master Zangan, please let me be your student. I want to be stronger.”

“That’s exactly the answer I was looking for, but what’s the matter, Tifa? I sense your impatience. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“That’s not it!” she replied, but felt self-conscious. “No… It’s because I got that letter from my friend.”

“What kind of letter?”

“I think it’s because I don’t want to lose. I don’t want to lose to anyone who left the village.”

“Hmm. My hand-to-hand combat techniques are not meant to be used to make you feel superior to others.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. But the answer to that can only be found through diligent study. All right. I will acknowledge you if you pass my test.”

“Test?”

“Show me everything you’ve learned from Volume 1. You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Tifa performed a sequence of forms from the physical training method.

“One more time, from the beginning.”

“Okay.”

This time Zangan interrupted with instructions.

"Check the book to see the direction your palms should be facing."

Tifa crouched down over the book and flipped through the pages. The form was wrong from the very start. Should have been above not below.

“I was wrong.”

“Try again.”

When she extended both hands and slightly shifted the direction of her palms, she felt a different set of muscles tingling.

“Everything from the Book of Secrets must be obeyed. Don’t try to interpret it another way or decide that your way is better. While disciplining your body, you must learn to be faithful to your decisions. If I take you in as my student, you will become stronger. So, you must cultivate your mind to control that power. The greater and stronger the power to handle, the greater the responsibility of its owner. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The second time around, Zangan pointed out any minor mistakes she made. Each time she would have to go back and confirm with the Book of Secrets before advancing, which made things take twice as long. Fatigue built up in her arms and legs.

“Alright, now relax and close your eyes. Focus your attention and check the condition of your body. Does it hurt anywhere?”

“My upper back… I wouldn’t say it hurts but it feels like it’s burning...”

She slipped her right hand underneath her left armpit until it touched the lower part of her shoulder blade. Digging her fingers into it felt good.

“Hmph!” Zangan gave a satisfying nod. “That’s your shoulder blade. What you’re pressing into is the trapezius muscle. Surrounding it is your deltoid, infraspinatus, psoas minor and other muscles. The second volume will teach you how to train each one of those muscles on your back,” he said, while holding out a booklet to her. It was Volume 2.

“If you want to live your life with pride then pay close attention to your back. Squeeze your shoulder blades together, chest out. Walking through life with a beautiful posture is also part of your training.”

“Got it.”

“Let’s get started. Well then, onto Volume 2, No. 2-1-1, scapular push-ups.”

Zangan immediately prostrated himself on the ground, and lowered his chest. Tifa hastened to follow his example.

“All you're doing is supporting your whole body with your arms. Concentrate on your shoulder blades. Rotate them outwards—protract, retract, protract.”

It was her first time experiencing those movements. How was she supposed to move to protract her shoulder blades? She couldn’t picture it in her mind. Glancing over at Zangan she noticed he was rotating his shoulders outward, something her cat, Maru, often did.

“You look like a cat,” she said.

“Right. There’s a lot we can learn from cats.”

She focused her attention on her scapula, going up and down, until the repetition of movements were drilled into her body. Zangan rose and watched over Tifa for some time before clearing his throat.

“Good!”

The movements were subtle but still made her perspire.

“That’s because the muscles across your back are wider. Moving them increases the blood flow and raises your temperature, so that’s why you’re working up a sweat.”

After completing Volume 2, Tifa was sweating profusely. She felt unthinkable pain throughout her whole back.

“Alright, any questions? If you do, now’s your chance.”

She wanted to say, yes, but nothing came to mind at the moment.

“If not, then we’ll move onto Volume 3.”

“Huh?” she couldn’t help but shout. Her whole body was screaming in pain. Zangan ignored her and continued.

“Volume 3 is for chest and abs. We’re going to train your front body. The pectoralis major muscle is roughly divided into three parts: upper, middle and lower. There are several different ways to effectively train it, but I’ll teach you the basic concepts.”

“Alright…”

“At your age, your overall motor skills are complete, and in that regard, you excel. You haven’t had any special training, have you? If so, then you must have been born with this. Treasure it.”

“I will.”

She felt energy pour into her body. Perhaps listening to Zangan talk with a relaxed mind helped her to recover from fatigue.

“After a while, we’ll concentrate on building your muscles. But you will not be using any equipment except your body. We won’t be using barbells or dumbbells until you’re much older. Besides, our Zangan-ryu hardly finds them necessary. That is because I prescribe individual fighting styles that suit each of my students. You don’t need arms built like logs or a bulky chest. What you need is to build up a fighting style that will utilize those reflexes, that body, and your speed. Well, what do you want to do? Shall we call it a day?”

“No. Please go on.”

She didn’t want to disappoint the first person who had managed to earn her respect.

“Yes, that’s the spirit! Alright. But we’ll stop here for today. Let’s call this current level of fatigue your limit. Keep it in mind. You have a long way before you can try to challenge that limit to surpass it. Continuity is more important now than ever.”

On their way back, a realization came over Tifa regarding Zangan’s test. It didn't annoy her. If her father tried to make her work like that she’d probably stop talking to him for three days in a row. With those thoughts in mind, she walked her teacher back to the inn.

“Say hello to your father for me.”

As she stood in front of her house she could smell the scent of spices in the air. Spices that her mother liked to use in her best recipe. It was her father’s favorite dish, but since Tifa didn’t really like it, it was hardly ever served at the dining table.

She opened the door and said, “I’m home.”

“Welcome back.” Her father, dressed in an apron, peeked out at her from the kitchen.

“This smell… Huh? Is it mom’s?”

“I was really craving it... Oh, but I made something else for you.”

She was filled with remorse. She didn’t like the way he looked or the tone of voice he used when trying to gauge her mood, but it was all her fault for making it that way.

Novel by Kazushige Nojima

Translated by pekotranslates

Proofread by Eerie

#ffvii #ff7r #tifa lockhart #traces of two pasts #aerith gainsborough

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wonderlustlucas · 4 years

Text

jack pot ; part 1 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader, seo changbin x female reader for like 2 minutes ⇢ word count 7.5k ⇢ genre fluff, angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way), slight smut ⇢ warnings drug use!!! & lots of it (marijuana), grinding, implied smut ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n yo!!! disclaimer: this initially was going to just be a long one shot but i decided to split it up into 3 parts, so just to let u all know part 1 & 2 does not have a ton of hyunjin interaction, they’re more character/plot building. part 3 is when things will get spicy ♥︎ i hope u enjoy! if u rb make sure to let me know what u thought in the tags mwah also i finally switched from ___ to yn are u guys proud of me :)

prelude.

Sometimes you really, truly, honestly think you could go right ahead and kill Han Jisung.

You say it all the time. Sometimes it’s a simple, “I will literally kill you,” or when you are feeling extra spicy, “Sleep with one eye open tonight.” He, of course, laughs it off like you aren’t vibrating with the urge to kick his kneecaps in. You seriously have lost count of all the times he has brought you to the brink of insanity.

And honestly, you have watched enough murder documentaries on Netflix that you probably could do it, but, you know, spending the rest of your life in prison does not sound that appealing. Plus, there’s the ever-troubling detail that Han Jisung is the closest thing you have to a best friend. So, it sort of goes against your basic human morals to backstab—literally—the most important human in your life.

But he really makes you crazy. Why you agreed to share an apartment with him in the first place is a mystery, but the fact that you leased it again for junior year is what really makes you lose sleep at night. Because, while he may be your best friend, Jisung is the epitome of a little shit. If such a compound word was in the dictionary, it simply would say ‘Han Jisung.’ Somehow, though, it makes you love him even more. Maybe it’s true that ‘opposites attract,’ or, perhaps, maybe it’s because no matter how much embarrassment and general self-loathing he may have caused you in the past, it has benefitted you in the end.

For example, his constant teasing about your lack of friends eventually led to you befriending a group of girls you always admired from afar. His snarky comments concerning your nonexistent social life finally got to you and now you can proudly wear the title of one of the best beer pong players in your class. His presence in general has taught you to stand up for yourself and what you believe in, whether it’s against him, your parents, a toxic friend, hell, even a professor. Proving people wrong, especially Jisung, is your favorite pastime.

Sometimes, though, it’s not that easy.

There’s one area in your life where you have accepted defeat. One area in your life where Jisung has his most fun. One area, or, perhaps one person, where you simply cannot step beyond your comfort zone.

Hwang Hyunjin is your Achilles tendon and Jisung is the arrow. There are times, along with all the times you’ve considered strangling Jisung in his sleep, where you have sat and actually prayed to the gods to send someone else. Someone not nearly as perfect as Hyunjin and someone not nearly as unattainable. Alas, these prayers, hook-ups, Tinder dates, anything to get him off your mind has proved futile; because here you are three years later, stuck with this stupid, absolutely infuriating crush on the only boy who has ever owned your heart because you outright gave it to him.

one.

You are beginning to think the two bubbly junior girls who led the campus tour you attended last year lied about the dining hall.

Correction: they one hundred percent lied.

Because even though the newly renovated food court looks nice—unscratched linoleum floors, shiny marble countertops and all sorts of seating to choose from—there must be something fishy going on with the cooks. Literally. Just last week, an upperclassman had a breakdown when she forked into her tuna (why anyone would want college seafood is another story) to find a worm right there in the middle of it. You have found little shards of glass in the yogurt and bugs even at You-Cook, but that’s all a part of the college experience, right?

“Are you sure there’s no spiders or anything? Did you check?” Beside you, Maddie watches with furrowed brows as you spoon a hefty serving of scrambled eggs onto your plate. Chuckling, you move down to grab a few sausages and a chocolate chip muffin before they are gone for the rest of the day; Lord knows, you are only a month in and carbohydrates have quickly become your emotional support, just like everyone else. “Yes, I checked,” you assure her, hiding a laugh with your hand as she leans over to further scrutinize the eggs, “I didn’t see any arachnids.”

“Good,” she hums, satisfied with your answer, “can you grab a banana muffin for me? They’re usually at the bottom.”

Nodding, you turn back to the blessed muffin basket, pushing away blueberry, corn, double chocolate, all because Maddie has to be different and go for the macadamia nut banana.

“Are those the dinosaur socks they were selling on move-in day?” In front of you, someone asks, and your first instinct is to look down at your feet just to confirm. 8:30 calculus simply turns your brain to mush and remembering how you dressed for the day is near impossible. “Yes!” Laughing, you lift your leg to get a closer look at the cute green t-rexes on skates. “I was sold once I heard they were a dollar.”

Tearing your gaze away from said socks, you look up and suddenly feel as if you have bumped into an angel. Maybe there were spiders in the eggs, deadly poisonous spiders that crawled up the spoon while you weren’t paying attention and bit your hand and now you are dead and this is the angel leading you to the heavens. That, or this simply is the most beautiful human you have ever seen up close and your brain does not know how to process it. Well, maybe that’s a little extreme, but you definitely have never been so starstruck in your life.

The boy in front of you says something but you don’t hear it, senses and thoughts momentarily Off™ as you gawk at him. Aside from the deep undereye bags you all have claimed the past few weeks, this stranger is as close to perfect as you can get. Sure, Seungmin and his roommates are pretty cute—but what the fuck?

Something tells you that you have been silently staring at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open for far too long when his brows raise in a mix of confusion and expectation. Shit. What did he say? Synapses suddenly shooting like fireworks in your brain, you desperately try to remember his reply but instead, all you had focused on was the plumpness of his lips as he spoke and not the words themselves.

Clearing your throat, you blink once, twice, hoping you were hallucinating the whole time and the boy in front of you is not Hercules incarnate.

Lucky for you or him, you can’t tell, but he is still as attractive as he was two seconds ago. “Sorry, what?” You blurt, loud, too loud, flinching at the sound of your own voice. Instead of recognizing that you are totally off your rocker, he smiles, a soft, toothy smile that has your muscles turning to goo.

“I said I bought them, too,” cutest-boy-in-the-universe repeats, looking down and you follow his gaze, “my roommates were making fun of me, so I’m glad I finally found someone who bought them.” Alas, as he tugs at the fabric of his jeans to slightly lift the cuff you see that he, too, wears the same socks. You think you’re in love.

“Well, your roommates clearly have no taste,” you deadpan, shakily meeting his eyes once he looks back up. He laughs softly, eyes scrunching at the action and you positively swoon until silence settles over you and he takes the opportunity to regard you, gaze sweeping down your frame and up again. You hold your breath because, 1) holy shit, you would get on your knees for him right now and 2) you suddenly wish you were wearing more than the ‘just-woke-up-to-get-pegged-by-calc’ fit.

“I’m Hyunjin,” he finally says and you release all the air trapped in your lungs. “YN,” you return, grasping his outreached hand and thanking the heavens it is as sweaty as yours. “Well, it was nice to meet you, YN,” Hyunjin proceeds, releasing your hand and offering a gentle smile.

“You too, Mr. Sock Man,” you grin, rocking on your heels and realizing with a pang of disappointment that your breakfast has probably gone cold. Well, that’s okay, because right now you are totally content standing here in the middle of the dining hall, silently staring at this Hyunjin with a stupid smile plastered on your face. And the best part? He apparently is just fine doing that, too.

“YN!” Somewhere behind you, Maddie calls your name and it thrusts you head-first back into reality. “Did you find a banana muffin? I can’t find— oh. Who’s this?” Appearing beside you, visibly shocked having found you in a staring contest with a very tall, very cute boy. “Oh, uh,” you huff out a laugh, scrambling to get yourself together, “Hyunjin, this is Maddie, my roommate. Maddie, this is Hyunjin. We have the same socks.”

Brows shooting up at the puzzling introduction, Maddie bites back a laugh and looks back and forth between you and Hyunjin. “Well, you don’t hear that every day,” smiling to hide her confusion, she offers him a small wave with her hand full of muffin packs, “nice to meet you.”

Hyunjin smiles in return, gaze quickly returning to you. “I’ll be off, then. Gotta get the waffles while they’re still warm. I’ll see you around.”

And before you know it, he’s off toward the other end of the breakfast counter.

“Um, what the fuck?” Maddie whispers excitedly as you make your way toward your usual table, elbow repeatedly jabbing into your side. “I have no idea what just happened. I think I’m dreaming,” you sigh blissfully, relieved to find that Jisung and Seungmin were able to claim your favorite booth. “No, definitely not dreaming. He’s totally into you. You have to hang out.”

“What?” You sputter, nearly tripping over your own two feet. Then, lowering your voice as you near the two boys, “I – no, he isn’t. How can you tell? That was like, the cutest guy I’ve ever talked to, and you think he’s into me?”

“Who’s the cutest guy ever?” Jisung pipes up, eyes lighting up and you curse him and his fucking bat hearing.

“No one,” you grumble, smiling softly at Seungmin when he gets up so you don’t have to sit on the end, leaving Maddie to sit next to the other one. “Is it me?” Jisung grins with a flutter of his eyelashes. He’s convinced the only reason you dislike him is because you’ve actually fallen in love with him, but that’s far from the truth. You don’t even dislike him—he’s just one of the first guys you’ve met who meets your sarcasm with as much ferocity, and that is a hard pill to swallow.

“In your dreams, Han,” you sneer, gracing him with a dramatic eye roll before tearing open the bag of your muffin. Comfortable conversation quickly falls into place as you eat, complaints about your classes, Seungmin trying to convince you to join them at the first party they will be attending while Jisung mocks you for wanting to stay home, Maddie asking where Felix is and Seungmin explaining that he got so high last night he ended up staying up past four playing Overwatch and is currently sleeping past all his classes.

Then, in the midst of guzzling your apple juice, Jisung leans out of his seat to call down the aisle. “Hwang! Come pull a chair over!”

Curiosity peaked, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and crane your neck to see over Seungmin’s fat head for who this ‘Hwang’ could be until, like the universe is really trying to kill you, the Hyunjin you met not even ten minutes ago has reached your table. “Hey,” he grins brightly, dabbing up the two boys before he glances to you, mouth promptly falling open. Certain you mirror the same expression, you struggle to find your words as Jisung and Seungmin look between you in shared confusion. “First we share socks, now it’s these dumpheads?”

Ignoring the way they scowl, Hyunjin giggles shamelessly and grabs a chair from an adjacent table to sit at the head of your booth. “It would seem that way.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. You guys know each other?” Jisung scoffs in disbelief, pointedly looking at you as if you’ve gone and disproved everything he pegged of you. “We just met,” Hyunjin replies with a shy smile, sparing you a quick glance before cutting into his waffle. Jisung looks to you and you offer an affirmative nod.

“And how are you guys friends?” Maddie asks, sensing your panic. “He’s Changbin and Minho’s roommate,” Seungmin answers.

You choke on a mouthful of juice.

“Christ, you good?” Seungmin snickers, offering a few slaps to your back. With a muffled yes, you look to Hyunjin with pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell them I said they have no taste.”

He laughs, arching a brow at you. “No way. They’ll get a kick out of that.”

“Oh, Christ,” faking a cry, you bury your face into your palms, “so much for making friends.”

“It’s okay, YN,” Jisung soothes with faux sympathy, “no one wants to be your friend anyway.”

Scoffing, the table quickly falls silent when you look up with rage in your eyes. “I bet when someone asks your parents about you, they change the subject,” you spit, shooting daggers at him before stabbing your fork into an innocent chunk of egg. To your utmost surprise but total delight, the other three burst into a fit of laughter, leaving you smirking smugly and Jisung sulking.

“Anyway,” Maddie promptly changes the subject back to her chemistry professor who has started every class playing Britney Spears. Tucked away in your corner finishing the last of your sausage and stifling the urge to get up for more, it isn’t until Hyunjin begins to speak do you realize that you have been quietly watching him the entire time. You would blame the soft morning sunshine shining through the windows and illuminating the right side of his face for making him look so ethereal, but you know that isn’t the case; from short, messy black hair, silver hoop earrings, thick, defined brows, the soft curves of his nose and the pouty fullness of his lips, you are totally, completely mesmerized.

And then, the sole of a sneaker is slammed right into your shin. “OW!” You yelp, loud, and for a moment you forget the pain in favor of the embarrassment that comes with the number of heads that turn to look at you. “Sorry. Bit my tongue,” you lie, earning an unconvinced look from Maddie. “Go on,” you nod toward Hyunjin to continue whatever he was saying before directing a furious glare to Jisung, who fails to hide his triumphant smirk as he enthusiastically types on his phone.

Just as you have bent down to rub at your throbbing leg, your phone vibrates twice against the table.

han jisung [now] stop staring, ur lucky hwang is as dense as a rock or he would have left a long time ago bc of you

han jisung [now] so THAT’S the ‘cutest guy ever’ huh? so ur straight after all

Squeezing your hands into fists, you prepare to fire back a reply that will have him crying. But he has different plans.

“Oh, Hyunjin, did YN tell you she’s a dancer, too?” He exaggerates your previous mention of dancing and has the audacity to wink at you. Thanks, Mr. Match Maker.

“Really?” Hyunjin gasps excitedly, eyes lighting up and totally missing the flabbergasted what? that sputters from your lips.

“I – well, no,” you hiss, scowling at Jisung, “I used to do ballet when I was younger but that’s it. Why, though? Do you dance?”

“He’s here on a scholarship,” Seungmin explains, “and minors in creative writing.”

“Oh,” you squeak, glancing to Hyunjin who is all but smiling like a cherub, completely oblivious, “that’s amazing. You must have a crazy schedule.” Chewing the last of his waffle, he hums in agreement. “Yeah, it gets really stressful at times. But it’s worth it,” Hyunjin chuckles. Then fucking winks.

Unable to hold his gaze, you whip your head back around in a panic and reach for the mere sip left of your juice. “Speaking of crazy schedules,” he hums, slapping both Jisung and Seungmin on the shoulders, “I must head out. This was fun. I may start crashing the party more now.” Rising from his seat, Hyunjin swings his bag over a shoulder and grins brightly. Realizing it would be rude to not say goodbye, you force yourself to look back to him and offer a feeble wave.

“And YN, don’t bite your tongue when you eat, yeah?”

You’re going to pass out.

two.

Felix likes to think of you as his corrupted child when it comes to smoking weed.

A few weeks before you would all be returning home for winter break, he came knocking on your door with a proposition. “No one wants to smoke with me. Do you want to?”

This, for sure, was not what you were expecting on a cold Tuesday night in December. Despite the general curiosity and always wanting to ‘try it’ simply to feel like a teenager breaking the rules, you told him you never smoked before. “I know,” he said with a smile, “that’s why I’m asking.”

So, you agreed. Reaching for your hand, Felix snuck you out the window and led you halfway across campus to the junior parking lot, giving you ample opportunities to back out when he felt how badly you were shaking. “Whose car is this?” You laughed in disbelief when he unlocked a beaten-up Nissan near the outskirts of the lot.

“Kim Woojin. The junior?” He replied once you settled in the passenger seat next to him. “Oh.” You blinked, confused. “He lets you smoke in his car?”

“He gets me weed, too,” Felix giggled, reaching into the pockets of his sweatshirt and coming out with two tightly wrapped blunts, each about two inches long, “I’ll turn the heat on a little so we don’t freeze but we have to keep the windows open. I’m not going to have you hotbox for your first time.” You had no idea what that meant, but you agreed nonetheless.

With a brief lesson on what to do that truly made no sense until you tried it for yourself, Felix lit the blunt, took a few small hits to get it started, and then passed it to you. Holding it gingerly between your thumb and index finger, you brought the unlit end to your lips and sucked as he instructed ‘like a straw,’ breathing it into your lungs and ignoring the faint taste of smoke. Unsure of when to stop, it wasn’t until your throat felt as if it was on fire did you realize just how much you had inhaled.

“Shit,” you wheezed, coughing and choking and watching with wide eyes at the amount of cloudy white smoke that left your mouth and nostrils. Passing it back to Felix, you scrambled for the cold water bottle he brought along, downing half of it in one go to soothe the burn. “Good?” He asked, blowing out the window and turning back to you with eyes full of concern.

“Yeah,” you huffed, “give me a few, though.”

Humming in agreement, Felix connected his phone to the car’s Bluetooth and began playing what he calls his ‘getting high playlist,’ and before long, you fell in love with the feeling.

When break was over, you were dying to try it again. Felix was more than happy to be of service.

For all of March, it turned into a daily thing.

Now, you try to smoke only once a week for the sake of not dying, or something.

australian felix kjellberg❤️ [now] come hang at 201?

When the text notification pops up in the corner of your laptop screen amid your YouTube binge, your bones jitter with a mix of dread and excitement.

Dread, because that’s Hyunjin’s room. Excitement, because that’s Hyunjin’s room.

Maddie must hear your sigh. “What’s wrong?” She asks from her cozied position in bed, hand deep in a bag of popcorn.

“It’s Felix,” you start, “but he said to go to Hyunjin’s room.”

She blinks, unfazed. “And? I don’t see the problem here.”

“Well, I don’t know,” you count on your fingers, “first, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin sober. Second, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin high. Third, I am very touchy when high. Fourth, Hyunjin is always touchy.”

Maddie scoffs. “That’s a pretty lame argument, YN,” she laughs, “isn’t that what you want to happen?”

“Well,” she’s got a point, “yes, but it still makes me nervous. He makes me nervous.” Closing your laptop, you shimmy out of bed and debate changing out of your cotton shorts and tee shirt. Nah. You’ll probably end up going back to Felix’s and sleeping there. You put a sports bra and deodorant on and call it a day.

Maddie finds this hilarious. “You know what should make you nervous? The fact that you’re usually the only girl getting high with, what? Six guys? You know they all want to fuck you.”

“I try not to think about that, actually,” cringing, you try to erase Felix’s voice when he’s high as a kite or Changbin’s arms from your mind, “and you don’t know that. Sometimes Ryujin and Lia are there. Or, you know, you could always come. You don’t have to smoke, just come hang out. I know you want to give Minho a fat smooch.”

Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “I love you, and I appreciate the invite, but I don’t feel like babysitting a bunch of stoners, even if Minho is there.”

Laughing, all you can offer her is a shrug. “I don’t blame you,” grabbing your phone, wallet, and charger, you make your way over to her and bend over to press a goodnight kiss to her forehead, “if you need me, don’t. I’ll probably be dead.”

“Oh Lord,” Maddie cackles, watching you struggle to open the window, “don’t die. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I’ll try,” you grin, military saluting once you’ve managed to flop over the ledge. With one last wave, you close the window behind you and thank admissions for giving you a room on the first floor.

[9:34 PM] YN: omw now, gather your forces to help me in :)

Nights in 201 are always interesting. First, their room is on the second floor, so climbing through the window is an experience. Things would be a hell of a lot easier if you could just walk in and out of residence halls as you please, but with the officer at the front desk documenting who comes in and who goes out, there would be a knock at the door at midnight asking you to leave. Second: as Maddie said, 201 means the whole squad is showing up. And when the whole squad shows up, you’re bound to feel a mix of anxiety and desire deep within your bones no matter how hard set you are on Mr. Hwang. And third: you know you’re in for one fucked up night.

[9:42 PM] YN: hereee

Standing awkwardly behind their building, you try and calm the nerves that always come when you know you will be with Hyunjin. Considering how close the two of you have become over the past few months, one would think you would have gotten a grip on those pesky feelings.

Yet again, it’s kind of hard to do that when he looks and acts like that all the time.

When the window slides open, you are expecting Changbin to hang halfway out for you to grab on to with the rest of them holding onto his legs. Instead, a tall, metal ladder of sorts is pushed out until it lands with a thud! at your feet, granting you a perfect staircase into the room.

Well, you certainly don’t see that every day.

Blinking in confusion, you do not know whether to focus on the crowd of boys waving at you from above or this abomination of a stepstool that was practically thrown out a window for you. Accepting the chain of events as just another fever dream of an experience in 201, you shake your head and begin to ascend on shaky legs, graciously taking Jisung’s hand and clinging to both him and Seungmin as they help you into the room. “Thanks,” you huff, giving them both a hug in return to their chivalry. And they dare say it’s dead!

Behind you, Changbin and Hyunjin lift the ladder-stepstool mutation back into the room and it isn’t until they have folded it into a more compact piece and set it against the wall do you speak up.

“Did you… buy a ladder?”

“Yes!” Minho bellows, thrilled by your successful entrance. “Isn’t it great?” After pulling back from a hug, he keeps his hands on your shoulders just to shake you like a bobble-head.

“Yes,” you grunt once he’s released you, head swimming, “a lot easier than hauling both me and Changbin through the window, right?” Looking to said boy, you can’t help but melt into his side when he pulls you close. “No worries,” Changbin beams, rubbing your arm, “at least we have some funny memories now.” When he moves to flop onto his bed, you realize with a shudder that you are alone with Hyunjin.

Well, technically not alone since they are all right there, but alone in the sense that they are not paying attention to you nor him.

“Hey, YN. I missed you,” he singsongs, engulfing you in one of his monster bear hugs. Disregarding the heart palpitations they may cause, Hyunjin’s hugs are truly the best and you wish you would initiate them more if it didn’t seem like such a big deal in that smooth brain of yours. “I missed you, too,” you mutter into his chest, squeezing your arms around him as if to engrave this feeling into your mind forever. “We saw each other, like, five hours ago,” he reminds you, finally pulling back and taking your will to live with him. God, he has no idea.

“And? You’re the only one here who doesn’t make me suicidal,” you lie because, in reality, he actually does. Just in a different way. “Aw,” he coos, large hand squeezing your side and you think you could orgasm on command, “good thing we have tonight, then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, finally remembering to breathe when he steps away to sit beside Seungmin on his bed. Suddenly, you are feeling incredibly grateful no one is next to Changbin because, well, 1) he is closer to Felix and 2), you need a distraction.

“Hello, Felix,” you greet the boy sunk deep in a bean bag chair, busy grinding leaves and packing them into the bowl of a bong. “How are you this fine evening, YN?” He asks once you have settled beside Changbin, brows knitting together when the older boy drapes his arm around your waist.

“Good. Tired, though. How ‘bout you?”

“You didn’t have to come if you’re tired! We all know you work your ass off, no one’s gonna judge if you chose to stay home and sleep,” Felix expresses, giving you a look that screams ‘mom.’

“No! I’m not that tired,” you assure him, reaching for his hand and squeezing for extra effect, “you know I wouldn’t miss this. You’ve made me a pothead.”

With a proud smile, he returns to his designated job and begins working on the second, smaller bong. “So,” stretching to set your things on the desk beside Changbin’s bed, you turn to him with a knowing smile, “how’s the album coming?”

“Great!” He beams, eyes lighting up at the topic. “Jisung is a great addition. Did I tell you we started meeting with someone else, too?”

“No, who?”

“He’s a sophomore, Bang Chan?” Somewhere behind you, Felix passes a bong to Jisung for the first hit. “Bang Chan? Holy shit, Binnie,” repeatedly punching his arm to express your excitement, “that’s amazing! I didn’t know he was into music production. Not that I’ve ever talked to him, but.”

“No, I get you,” he hums, giving your side a firm squeeze, “he’s really awesome making beats. I hope we’re successful.” Then, reaching past you, he takes the second bong and a lighter from Felix. When he resituates himself, he’s considerably closer than before. You don’t mind.

“Ladies first?” Changbin offers with a crooked grin, handing them to you. Then, on second thought, he holds onto the lighter to do the honors. “Sure. Thanks,” you laugh, glancing across the room to find everyone arguing over which color to set the lights to as they wait for their high. Bringing the tube to your lips, you offer a miniscule nod to him and then he is setting flame to the bowl. Sucking strong enough to generate bubbles, you unplug the bowl once he stops and breathe in as much as your lungs can handle in one go. Then, once you have exhaled, you quickly finish what’s left in the tube before passing it to Changbin with a pleased smile.

“That was a lot,” he points out once you have handed the bong back to him. “Hey, you’re the one who kept lighting it for thirty seconds. Mother would be proud,” you joke, reciprocating the same service and lighting the bowl until he glares at you beneath his bangs.

The best part about being high is the fact that you are constantly laughing. Things won’t even be that funny, but once someone starts laughing—you’re done for. You laugh so hard it hurts, and then once it’s all over, you realize it wasn’t funny at all. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like a squirrel?” Minho asks Jisung at some point. You absolutely loose it. It quite possibly is the funniest thing you have ever heard.

Pouting, Squirrel Boy leaves Minho alone on his bed to come crash beside you. “How are you, my tender oozing blossom?”

Squinting at him past the way your eyes burn, you make grabby hands and pull him close to wrap your arms around his teeny waist. Changbin grumbles in protest, but he’s too transfixed on the light’s soft in and out fade of different colors to say anything else. “Please, don’t ever call me that again,” you mumble into Jisung’s mop of brown hair.

“What?” He gasps, tilting to look up at you with puppy eyes. “You didn’t like it?”

“Nope,” smiling lazily, you rest your head atop his, “I love you, but I’m not ready for pet names yet.” His face morphs from a frown to one lit with excitement. “Holy shit, did you just say you love me? Do my eyes deceive me?”

“That would be your ‘ears,’ but yes,” you hum, brain simply not capable of denying it the way your sober self would. “More than Changbin?” Jisung whispers.

“Yes, but don’t tell him,” you return quietly, biting back a laugh.

“More than Hyunjin?” He counters. At this, you look up to find said boy sat with his legs to his chest across the room. Next to Seungmin, he looks like a giant; but a happy, pouty giant that keeps talking about how much he could go for a winter melon tea right now.

“Never.”

One and a half (half because it was just the rest of Minho’s terribly big hit that left tears streaming down his cheeks) and an unfinished game of Cards Against Humanity later, you find yourself in a blissful headspace. The song playing quietly through Felix’s speaker makes it feel like you are bouncing down stairs and then going up again, and the lights are oh so pretty, pink fading to red, yellow to green, blue to purple and so on. Things are fuzzy but crystal clear at the same time, the popcorn you’ve been shoveling into your mouth tastes heavenly, and your body feels like it is engulfed in a warm, comforting hug.

Or, that could just be Changbin.

Somewhere in between trying to get more comfortable and him yanking you to stay next to him when you attempted to get up and hug Seungmin for something sweet he said, you now find yourself on your back with a clinging Changbin on your side. You are so comfortable, but also insanely hot, and as you begin to slowly come down from your high as the hours tick by, you begin to realize it’s for another reason.

What started as an innocent hand on your side turned into his thumb rubbing meaningless patterns against your shirt, which then turned into his hand slipping beneath to splay against the warmth of your skin. Growing increasingly needy as the minutes go by, you turn to look at everyone around you. Jisung, who found himself returning to Minho, appears to be passed out with him on the far end of the room. Seungmin, curled up on the floor with a pillow and a heap of blankets. Felix, who finished off the rest of his weed, scrolls aimlessly on his phone still at the peak of his high.

And Hyunjin, who you assume has been fast asleep on his bed for a while now if the arm flung over his face tells you anything. For a moment, you feel sick with sadness. So close, but so far he lies, always a step out of reach. But you can’t deny how Changbin makes you feel—for right now, at least. And it would be a shame to miss out on an opportunity with someone else because the one you want is unattainable.

Right?

Changbin must sense the way your breathing increases, must feel the way your body reacts to the slightest of touches, yet he takes his time. He is soft in the way his hand travels up your arm, rough fingertips grazing over your collarbones before smoothing down over your chest and abdomen. It isn’t until you are about to burst at the seams does he give your ass a strong squeeze and urge your leg over his hips.

“Changbin,” you sigh, biting your lip to keep from whimpering when he begins pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the length of your throat. “Please touch me.”

He only makes a sound of agreement, savoring the way you squirm and grip onto his arm for dear life. When he offers an experimental roll of his hips to grind against you, you practically go feral. The last time you were touched in such a way was at a party in the beginning of the semester Jisung and co. physically forced you to go to, and Changbin has barely even touched you and it’s already better than the rushed sex you had that night.

“Wait,” he huffs, pausing his ministrations no matter how difficult it is to do so, “we can’t.”

“What?” You hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet, “why?”

“Because you’re high, and I’m high, and I’m not going to do anything unless you really want me to,” Changbin explains, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips when you frown in response. “But I do want you to,” you huff, chasing his mouth for another, “I trust you one hundred percent.”

“Are you sure, YN?” What about Hyunjin? is what he really means and you know he’s right. You should have never told Felix.

Trying to ignore the wetness of your underwear, you turn to lie on your back. “Whatever. Never mind,” you mumble, and when you glance back to him, you can’t help the way your heart soars with him still pressed closely to your side, blinking tiredly at you. But like he said, it’s not Hyunjin. “Just get some sleep, Binnie. Forget it happened,” smiling past the tears that threaten to spill, you ruffle his hair and press a softer kiss to his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Changbin whispers, returning the affection with a kiss to your shoulder. In minutes, he is snoring softly beside you.

You can’t fall asleep to save your life.

Reaching for your phone to check the time, you grit your teeth once you realize it’s almost four and you definitely have been staring at the ceiling for more than an hour. For starters, you are freezing now; unlike these passed out hooligans, you are showing a lot more skin and not being under the blankets is not doing you well. And secondly, it’s hard to fall asleep when your thoughts are flying miles a minute.

Is this how it’s going to be, then? Whenever you see someone, will the little guy on your shoulder whisper in your ear that it’s not Hyunjin? Or will people deem you off limits because they know of your infatuation? People who know, at least—Changbin is the first, apparently.

Just need to get comfy, you decide, trying to ignore such thoughts and turning to lie on your stomach. Bless Felix for leaving the lights on, too—you may be coming down from your high, but the vibe is simply immaculate. Tucking a hand under your cheek and following the ropes of light on the ceiling and up the walls, you find this to be enough to calm your nerves. Enough to make your eyelids heavy. Finally.

Someone lets out a monster train snore. Seungmin, you think, biting your lip to keep from laughing. Or, it could be Hyunjin. The thought is so amusing you can’t help but squint at the boy across from you to better see his outline, hoping he will do it again just to confirm.

No, not Hyunjin.

Because he’s facing you, eyes open, a soft smile plastered on his face. Well, fuck.

No reason to panic, you console yourself, returning a gentle smile in the assumption he can even see you. And you stay like that for a while, simply watching one another for an infinite amount of time. It’s not much, but it means something, you think, lost in the way the contours and highlights of his face change with each color the lights fade to. Just as you remember the whole point of getting on your stomach was to fall asleep, Hyunjin moves. Reaching for his phone, you watch in confusion as he brings it close to his face and starts typing.

hwang hyunjin👁👄👁 [now] Come sleep w me?

You almost throw up in your mouth. You must be dreaming. Surely.

Blinking against the harsh light of your phone, you cannot help your smile as you reread the text.

[4:02 am] YN: wont that b a little sus for bin

[4:02 am] hwang hyunjin👁👄👁: If anyone asks just say he kept kicking u or something

You don’t need to be told twice. Now that he has turned onto his side facing the other direction, Changbin does not stir once you slowly move to sit up and stand, nor when you reach for the quilt crumbled at the foot of the bed to pull over him. It’s not much, but hopefully it will keep him from waking in a few hours freezing to death. Then, as you tiptoe your way over to Hyunjin’s bed, avoiding Felix now that he’s sprawled half way off the bean bag, you cannot tell if you are still shivering from the cold or if the fact you are going to be sleepingwith Hyunjin in one, tiny single bed is finally clicking in your brain. Like Maddie said, this is something you want, right?

As you draw closer, Hyunjin shifts to make room and lifts the covers for you to quietly slip beneath. “Thank you,” you whisper, pulling the blanket up to your chin and trying to ignore the feeling of being so close to him. “Of course. You looked real cold over there,” he smiles tiredly. Then, his arm cautiously curls around you to rest by your head, fingers swiping stray hairs away from your face.

“I was,” you admit. Eyes level to his lips, you strain to look him in the eyes to resist the temptation now that he’s pulled you so close. “Changbin fell asleep and I felt bad waking him.”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply. He seems momentarily lost in thought, brows slightly furrowed as he chews on the inside of his lip.

“Do you like him?” He finally asks, voice shaky with hesitation.

“What?” You sputter, shocked at such a presumption. Yet again…

“No, no I don’t. I mean—as a friend, yes, but, you know,” you trail off, squeezing your eyes shut. You desperately wish you were not having this conversation right now. “He was touching you, though. And it looked like you liked it,” Hyunjin whispers, thumb swiping against your cheekbone.

“I mean, well yeah, I did. But I’m not close enough to like him like that. It’s just a physical attraction,” realizing you are discussing what went down with Changbin to Hyunjin, you suddenly pull back and lean up on an elbow to get a better look at him, heat now spreading up your limbs like fire. “Were you watching us, Hwang?”

“Yes,” he admits, “it’s kind of hard not to.” Your heart stops beating.

“I – what?” You manage once you have remembered how to breathe. “I didn’t know you were awake, we wouldn’t have… what do you mean, ‘it’s kind of hard not to?’”

“You know what I mean, YN,” Hyunjin mutters, arm slipping around your waist and pulling you to lie down with him again, this time, your chest pressed to his. “I like looking at you. You’re very pretty.”

You definitely must still be high, because you are seriously having a hard time wrapping your mind around Hyunjin calling you pretty, as well as being so close, and somewhere deep in your mind wonders if he knows. If he knows how your heart is on the line here. Knows that with him moving closer, you are taking a huge risk.

When Hyunjin kisses you, you forget that this could be the worst mistake you’ve made in a long time. Wrapped around his fingers, you pray this is his way of saying he feels the same.

“YN!” You wake to Seungmin gently shaking your shoulder. “YN, wake up. Your phone has been vibrating for twenty minutes now. It’s Maddie.”

The wave of panic washing over you dispels the grogginess you feel from suddenly being yanked from sleep, as well as the recognition of where you are and who you’re with. Frantic, you sit up and nod in thanks to him before taking the call. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank God you answered,” Maddie cries, voice choked, “I’m sorry, I know you’re still out, but I just threw up and I feel so terrible and when I get up I feel so nauseous. Can you come home?”

“Shit, Maddie, don’t apologize,” you whisper, rushing to grab your things as Seungmin unfolds The Ladder as quietly as possible, “I’m leaving now. Don’t move, you don’t want it to get worse. I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” she whimpers before hanging up.

“Thank you, Minnie,” pressing a kiss to his cheek, you begin to climb down. “Is everything okay?” He asks, watching as you go with a worried frown. “Yes, it’s fine. Just a little emergency, don’t worry,” praying no one is out and about watching as you climb from the back of their building, you rush back to help Maddie as fast as you can.

You stay back in your dorm with Maddie for the rest of the weekend, fetching her water and ginger ale and food she can handle, helping her to the restroom, and binging all sorts of shows and movies with her. Seungmin, Jisung, and Minho visit Sunday evening, joining you for a few hours to watch Pokémon. You think it’s just because Minho knew it would be a good opportunity to snuggle with Maddie.

You can’t help but feel disappointed when Hyunjin isn’t with them. You refrained from telling Maddie what happened in 201, too caught up wanting to make sure she was alright, and by now you are starting to feel as if it wasn’t even real. Maybe you made the whole night up in your marijuana-infused brain. And snuggled up with Jisung, you can’t help but wish it was this annoying shit you were falling in love with.

On Monday morning, Hyunjin doesn’t show up for breakfast. On Tuesday, you find out he has been hanging out with a girl he met at his favorite boba joint and apparently won’t shut up about. First, you run back to your dorm to cry to Maddie, having to explain all of Friday night to her. When she leaves for her lab, you call Felix for an emergency smoke session. When Maddie texts that she is going to be out late working on a project, you call Changbin to tell him that you really do want him to.

Like you said, it’s just a physical attraction, right?

⇢ part 2

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waywardrose · 4 years

Text

On Babbushka

There is a group of well-known writers in the fandom who have been discouraged and put down by one of their own, Zannah - @babbushka. It happens behind the scenes in DMs. It happens in posts and tags.

In DMs, she has started conversations with seemingly innocent questions. When she doesn't receive the response she was aiming for, she diverts the conversation to criticizing and humiliating the person. She has attacked writers for tagging—or not tagging—a post in a way she deems appropriate. She has gotten into arguments over how characters were portrayed and then tried to claim victimization when the other person wouldn't knuckle under.

She will appeal to her following to attack any fan or creator who has an opinion that differs from her own. She will encourage friends to send rude anons. Those same friends will also DM the target with rude remarks.

Several creators have stopped writing altogether because of their interactions with her.

We are tired of being discouraged. We are tired of being talked down to. We are tired of being bullied. Enough is enough. Under the cut we share our stories, let the chips fall where they may. It's up to you, the reader, to decide whether to support her.

We can only warn up-and-coming writers, artists, fans, and supporters of her behavior.

Hope - @callmehopeless

The Australian bushfires of the 2019-2020 season were nightmarish—for those living through it and those witnessing. As the season went on, cries for help increased. Joaquin Phoenix used the time during his Best-Actor acceptance speech at the Golden Globes to call for unity, action, and accountability. Regardless of what we may think of him, it was a thoughtful speech.

Hope, who is an Australian, found Mr. Phoenix's message encouraging and reblogged a gifset of his speech.

That morning, Zannah made a post about Mr. Phoenix's shady past and his association with a known sexual predator. The main reason wasn't because his speech was inappropriate or not timely, but because she didn't think he should be the one to get the attention over other actors who had spoken of the bushfires during the Golden Globes.

While Hope confessed she was scared of the bushfires, scared for her loved ones, Zannah was more concerned with purity. To Zannah it was about the face of the message, not the message itself. It didn't matter that Mr. Phoenix was amplifying support for Australia, what did matter was that he had done bad things.

It was virtue signaling on Zannah's part.

Still, this remains a complicated argument. Can a person who has done bad things actually have something positive to add to a cause? Should we listen to a problematic person if they share an insight? Does it reflect poorly on us to agree with their isolated statement? Will we be canceled, too? What about the bigger picture?

In this case, the bigger picture was hundreds of homes were destroyed in the bushfires and families were displaced. People died, thousands of animals died. And it was because of climate change. Mr. Phoenix called for his rich peers to examine their respective lifestyles and to give back.

Yes, Mr. Phoenix has done bad things. Yes, he has associated with people who have done bad things. His words resonated with people on Tumblr, and they reblogged part of his speech. He said something that gave Hope hope.

Hope was asked by a third party how they could help. She came back with a resource guide for those who wanted to send aid to Australians.

When it became obvious Zannah wouldn't silence Hope, Zannah decided to sub-post about the interaction. There, she accused Hope of being a rape apologist for reblogging a gifset and finding a little comfort in it. Zannah placed her ego before someone who was facing a very real danger.

Side-eying an actor is one thing, shaming a person you know for finding solace during a scary time is another. Hope isn't responsible for which voice got picked up. The only "colors" being shown here are Zannah's. She put her own concerns about being perceived as morally pure above actually supporting a friend.

I'll keep this brief - I knew Zannah for many years. And on one of the lowest weeks of my life, when my suburb was burning down and I feared for my family: she convinced me I was a rape apologist for sharing Joaquin Phoenix's speech asking for action on bushfires. In all my life, I never felt more alone. To add insult to injury, she then posted memes mocking me - something that has stuck with me to this day.

I've had dear friends quit the fandom because of her kinkshaming. I've had people I love message me distraught over what she's said.

Enough is enough.

— @callmehopeless

Rose - @the-wayward-rose

This PM exchange started after I tagged my reblog of Zannah's fic Feast (Cameron Bistle x Reader) with cw: white reader. I had been on her taglist, and I wanted to show support because I liked the fic overall. For context, the reason for my tag is because of this sentence:

"But then you're blushing so pretty and squeezing his hand affectionately and reaching for the handle to the passenger side of his car, and then you're laughing when he swats your hand away to open it for you, and then you're beckoning him down as if to ask a question – only to place a chaste kiss to his lips instead."

This is from Cameron's point of view.

She asked the reason for the tag, and I explained it was because of the use of "blush" to describe Reader's appearance.

She misunderstood my premise. I did not mean only white people blush.

According to Merriam-Webster, blush means "a reddening of the face especially from shame, modesty, or confusion" or "a red or rosy tint."

It is an autonomic response, though. It happens in all humans for body cooling and nonverbal communication. The main problem with using it universally is that melanin obscures the appearance of said autonomic response.

Here's an example of three runners:

The two pale women, left and center, are pink in the face. They are blushing. The woman of color on the right is likely blushing, too. However, the melanin in her skin obscures the blood in her cheeks. She is not pink.

That's the pitfall of the word "blush." The observer can't always see it. We know what it feels like. We all do it. The face and/or neck gets hot. The use of "blush" is shorthand in narrative, and I understand that. Nevertheless, when writing to cater to a reader-insert audience of unknown heritage, writers need to consider describing with universal terms.

Again, she misunderstood my premise. I clarified by asking how Cameron sees the Reader blush under an abundance of melanin:

She sidestepped the physiological explanation to go straight for justification. She tried to legitimize "blush" as "perhaps [this]" or "perhaps [that]" when I stated earlier that blush by definition is pink or is to redden. That's the logic. A noncommittal, covering-all-the-bases, complicated defense diluted the conversation.

With her earlier "I have friends of color, hence I can't be exclusionary" statement, I wasn't sure she would get my point. I take full responsibility for not explaining, too. I should've asked for some time to gather my thoughts, but I didn't. Truthfully, I was unprepared, because I didn't think my insignificant tag would be an issue.

Also, I was confused why she was trying to police my blog.

Her replies came rapidly—before I could mention my confusion—and felt aggressive in the moment. Maybe that wasn't her intention, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

That doesn't take away from the fact that words have meaning. It's why we use specific words. It's not understood in the narrative that her use of "blush" could mean a bunch of things. If I had known, I wouldn't have tagged as I did. How is a reader of color supposed to know that? How does Cameron see Reader's blush if she has darker skin?

As writers, we don't know who is reading. Someone could be very pale or very dark. A person with medium-toned skin can turn a shade of pink or red. A person with darker-toned skin will not. We can't assume all readers are medium to pale. We need to develop better writing skills. We have to include everyone.

Readers of color > White-writer feelings

When I stood my ground, she doubled down, stating I made no sense in my tagging and that I lacked the ability to learn from her. She then diverted the argument, attacking a ficlet I wrote a few days beforehand—which had nothing to do with this argument. The Christian imagery in that ficlet was upsetting to her and "in such poor taste" because she headcanons Flip Zimmerman (BlacKkKlansman) is 100% culturally and ethnically Jewish.

Flip stated in the movie:

"I'm Jewish, but I wasn't raised to be. It wasn't part of my life. I never thought much about being Jewish. Nobody around me was Jewish. I wasn't going to a bunch of Bar Mitzvahs. I didn't have a Bar Mitzvah. I was just another white kid. And now I'm in some basement denying it out loud[...] I never thought much about it. Now I'm thinking about it all the time. About rituals and heritage. Is that passing? Well then, I have been passing."

By his own admission, Flip is ethnically Jewish, but not culturally. These are two separate things, and that should be recognized. While Judaism is ethnically and culturally entwined in ways that other religions are not, one does not equate the other. You can be one and not the other.

At the time, I didn't want her to sic her 3000+ followers on me. I wasn't going to argue further. I asked myself if the ficlet was important and worth anon-hate and realized, no, it wasn't. It was a throw-away.

And since I'm not culturally Jewish, maybe I had misstepped. And since Zannah is both culturally and ethnically Jewish, I asked for her guidance.

She flatly refused my request. I don't know how I was supposed to learn from her if she wouldn't teach me.

It sounded as if she wanted me to delete the whole fic. Like none of it was worth saving because it hadn't been Zannah-approved. I had gone against her headcanon, and the fic was too offensive to fix.

The last sentence was supposed to cover her back from criticism, and it placed all the responsibility on me. Obviously, she was above such petty concerns as someone else's blog or writing. Never mind that she had just attempted to get me to change my tagging system and rewrite my ficlet. On my blog.

Later, I figured out she was only criticizing and not offering a constructive critique. Her argument was not in good faith. It was retaliation for not giving her the obedience she thought she was owed.

This is the passage that offended her:

"It’s because of the way he fucks you. Like it’s confession—though he’s never been much of a church-going man. Every touch, every thrust, is a truth between you. Even when it’s rough and greedy. It feels like flagellation when you claw his back. He wears the sin proudly."

This is what I edited it to:

"It’s because of the way he fucks you. Every touch, every thrust, is a truth between you. Even when it’s rough and greedy. It feels like flagellation when you claw his back. He wears your marks proudly."

Yeah, I'm not pleased with the revised passage. It's lost its teeth, but I keep it.

The anonymous message(s) she mentioned weren't very anonymous, either. Unfortunately, I've since deleted the two messages. I had apologized to Anon for disappointing them. I said that if the fic was too much, they should unfollow and block me. I meant that in a self-care way. At the same time, I did not—and do not—owe anyone discourse. I don't have to explain my art when it doesn't hurt anyone. And no one was hurt by some purportedly misplaced religious imagery.

I have been silent about this since late January/early February. I was embarrassed. I had been bullied into changing my blog and my fic by someone who proclaims to never do anything of the sort. I had been a fool. Since this conversation with her, I have been blocked/blacklisted by third-parties, most likely at her behest, when none of this exchange had been necessary.

Kassanovella - @kylorengarbagedump

Zannah's followers have asked her about Kassanovella’s Fix Your Attitude. For context, it's currently one of the most kudo-ed fics for Kylo Ren x Reader on AO3. It had a bit of a renaissance earlier in 2020 because a TikToker wrote a song for it.

There is nothing wrong with not wanting to read a fic. If the subject matter doesn't work for a reader, they don't have to partake. Easy as that. So, these tags aren't a problem.

However, it led to this...

She lashed out, calling Kassanovella's fic a joke. A joke.

She implied her fics should be as popular as Kassanovella's because she works really hard on them. She admitted she's tied to the metrics. She implied she wouldn't be writing fic if not for the external validation.

Here's the thing about fanfic: readers like what they like. They don't care about a writer's effort. They only know what works for them. They comment and give kudos, reblog and like what they connect with. That is not under the writer's control. All a writer can do is try their best and concentrate on what they're passionate about.

To bash another writer's fic because it's popular is disrespectful. This whole bitter rant drips of entitlement and is an affront to Kassanovella.

Some time later, an incident happened in a chatroom during a streaming event for veterans by Arts In the Armed Forces (Adam Driver's organization). At least one fan brought up Fix Your Attitude while waiting for Mr. Driver to make an appearance. They were also disrespectful towards the other presenters by demanding to see Mr. Driver. It caused a big stink within the fandom, and Zannah had some choice words.

While mentioning the fic during the livestream was inappropriate, it was also inappropriate to throw all fans of the fic under the bus as she did in her tag. Sweeping generalizations and incriminations of a subset of fans certainly reads as if she resents those fans for a perceived slight.

Next, Zannah made an earlier disparaging comment about Kassanovella's fic, Little Bird. Unfortunately, that comment is lost. However, the messages supporting the comment remain. (For context, Little Bird is a Kylo Ren x Reader The Handmaid's Tale AU. It has been well received in the fandom, earning thousands of kudos on AO3.)

What an author wants to write about and sexualize is their business. Fantasizing about being dominated by Kylo Ren isn't cringe. It's a sexual fantasy. Some sexual fantasies can be disturbing to those who do not share the same kink.

Sexual fantasies are like ice cream. There's a reason why there are different flavors.

Also, "I will never ever be a person that tells an author what to do or not do" is an absolute lie. As evident in this post, Zannah most definitely tells authors what to do or not do.

Again, she bashes Kassanovella, claiming her writing isn't good. Her motivation for bashing Kassanovella can only be speculation. With Zannah's previously stated opinion of Fix Your Attitude, though, it indicates a certain level of negative emotions.

Anonymous

An anonymous person came forward with a case of Zannah policing their blog. Anon has a sideblog for their personal AU with Flip Zimmerman. They reblog gifsets and post headcanons. They were an enthusiastic fan of Zannah's and reblogged a few of the gifset she made. Anon tagged their reactions, and Zannah blocked them for it.

Anon went to Zannah and asked why they were blocked, because all they wanted to do was have fun and support fellow Flip lovers.

Anon was under the impression that because they were shipping themselves, and not Zannah, with Flip, she blocked them. Their personal AU doesn't align with Zannah's headcanon that she alone is married to this character and has his children.

While Zannah's reply may sound innocent, and perhaps it is, it also speaks to someone who has set herself up as the owner of Flip Zimmerman. (Wait until Spike Lee or the real Ron Stallworth hears about that...) It appears that if a fan does not comply with the Zannah-approved headcanon, where only she is married to Flip, that fan shall be blocked. If a fan uses tags on their blog that she does not approve of, that fan will be blocked.

Zannah's policing is disturbing. Going into a blog to look for something as a reason to block is disturbing. Any fan is allowed to use any tag on their blog how they wish. If the OP has said their post can be reblogged, how a reblogger tags is beyond the OP's control. To punish that reblogger for not behaving in a way she finds acceptable is uncalled for and unjust.

Anonymous

Backstory: Zannah does not view Ben Solo's arc in the Star Wars sequel trilogy as acceptable canon. However, she does view the story she created for Flip Zimmerman in BlacKkKlansman as completely canon.

This is not the first time she has been asked to clarify her position. Nor is it the first time she has avoided giving an on-topic response. A question asked in good faith should be responded to in kind.

If a creator doesn't want to address the issue, they can state that they don't. Deflecting from the question only muddies the waters. Fans feel dismissed. The creator feels hounded, and comes across as irritated and unapproachable. No one has a positive fandom experience.

There is nothing wrong with having a headcanon. What is wrong is Zannah mandating her headcanon for Flip on the whole fandom. As evident in this post, if a fan does not comply with her headcanon, they will be summarily blocked.

Also, there is nothing wrong with rejecting canon. Writers of transformative works have always done this. The problem is shaming fans who have accepted canon while not offering justification for that shaming. A creator saying they "can't help them" is the creator washing their hands of responsibility from articulating their thoughts when they themselves began criticizing the canon in the first place.

Again, this is a bad-faith argument. Creators can't ask for discussion and attention and then get mad when their viewpoints are challenged. Just because a discussion isn't going a creator's way doesn't mean it's an attack, either. It means people want clarification, and if one criticizes, they should be able to back up their criticisms.

While sharing our stories has been freeing, it's not our aim as fellow fans to cancel Zannah. We would hope she would take the opportunity to reflect on the damage she has done to the fandom. We hope we all can move forward with a more approachable and supportive scene.

No one person speaks for our fandom. The actions of one fan do not represent the entire fandom. Whether creator or consumer, you are welcome here.

[posted July 25, 2020]

#babbushka #reader insert #flip zimmerman x reader #kylo ren x reader

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destiniesfic · 4 years

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Folktober 02 — for @jurdannet/@jurdannetrevels. Jude was never taken to Faerie and grew up in blissful ignorance of the fair folk — mostly — until the night they tried to steal her twin sister away. (CW this chapter for drugging via faerie wine.)

“Bring her here,” says Cardan.

I am still squirming, but Valerian lifts me clean off my feet and carries me around the bonfire. Nobody cares about my shrieking, either, and despite my earlier threat we’re probably too far from the road for anyone else to hear. I try to make eye contact with the guitar player, but he stares through me, plucking at his strings.

Valerian deposits me at Cardan’s side, on the same soft red blanket he sprawls atop. I try to scramble away, but Valerian puts his hands on my shoulders and holds me in place with what seems like very little effort. Cardan doesn’t lift a finger this entire time, just watches me with his black hole eyes. He is obviously in charge here. Hadn’t Locke called him a prince?

“Look how frightened it is,” snickers Valerian. “Look how it trembles.”

It’s true: I am shaking, even though I desperately wish to stop. Being so near to them is terrifying. Up close, everything about Cardan is sharp and dangerous, nature’s way of saying “keep out!” He’s beautiful, too, but in the same way those tiny, brightly-colored frogs in the pages of the NatGeo magazine my parents got when we were kids are beautiful. Basically, touch at your peril.

“What are you going to do?” I ask him, trying to shake Valerian off without much success. “Are you going to eat me?”

The blue-haired girl, Nicasia, throws her head back and laughs. “You should be so lucky, mortal girl.”

Her companion, Locke, frowns. “You don’t mean to keep her as a pet, do you?”

“Balekin has plenty of moral pets,” Cardan says. “Surely he won’t begrudge me one of my own.”

I don’t like the sound of that.

“You have to let me go,” I tell him. “My parents will notice I’m gone by morning. They’ll worry. And Taryn— we have homework. And I’m waiting for my college applications to come in. And—”

“I don’t have to do anything.” He looks me over. His eyelashes are so long and thick that they cast fleeting shadows against his cheeks. “It’s a shame. You’re amusing like this, but too difficult to manage. Open your mouth.”

I blink. “What? Why?”

“You belong to me now, and you dare question my orders? Open your mouth or I’ll pry it open myself.”

Somehow, I get the sense that he’s showing off for his friends. I weigh what’s left of my dignity against my desire to make him struggle, and decide I should save up my defiance. I’ll need it.

God, I hope Taryn gets home safe.

I open my mouth, but only a little. I wonder if he’s going to kiss me. He’s so pretty that about ten percent of me almost wants it, which must be how they get you. At least the other ninety percent is keeping her head. If he kisses me, will I die? I wish I’d read more about faeries. I wish I paid more attention to my parents.

Cardan rests a beringed hand against my jaw. Then, before I can jerk my head away, he pours a little of his wine into my mouth.

I rear back, coughing. I can hear them all laughing now. Valerian lets go of me, and I wipe at my face, trying to sop up the wine that spilled from my lips. I know I swallowed some; it lingers, overly sweet, on my tongue.

“What was that?” I snap, but it doesn’t have the venom I’d like. I am already feeling lightheaded. What was that rule? Don’t eat or drink anything?

Oh no. No no no.

“It’s a revel,” Cardan explains. “A small one, but a revel still. And you were of no mind for revelry. A taste should be more than enough to remedy that. Tell me, how do you feel now?”

I blink a couple of times. I remember being afraid, but fear feels very far away now. Like I’ve woken from a nightmare. It lingers, but is quickly shaken off. In its place is just… ease. Elation. My body feels free. Even the aches from my last sword practice with dad in the backyard are gone.

“I feel great,” I say honestly, grinning at him. “Wow, your face is close.”

He grins back. “Better. I have much I would ask of you, mortal Jude. Why not come a little closer?”

I lean toward him. Maybe he’ll kiss me now. I don’t know why that was such a bad idea ten seconds ago. His mouth looks soft.

But instead of doing any such thing, Cardan slides two long fingers down my sweatshirt collar and pulls it aside. A brief look of triumph flashes across his face as he fishes out my string of dried rowan berries. “You do know something of our ways,” he murmurs, and I am pleased by his satisfaction. “Locke, what do you make of this?”

Locke moves as if to get up, but Nicasia shifts so that her head is on his lap. He peers across at us instead. “Were you sent by someone?”

I shake my head, bewildered.

“Who gave you the rowan berries?”

“My mom,” I say, smiling at him. There doesn’t seem to be any harm in saying it. Besides, I want to help these beautiful strangers. I want them to like me. “She says to always put them on when we’re venturing out. Taryn doesn’t wear hers anymore, though.”

“And there is the difference between you and your sister. I imagine you’ll have questions for your mother, should you see her again,” Cardan says. He slips the berries back down into my collar and gives my sternum a pat, as if tucking them in. I don’t bother to question why he phrases it like that.

“This is dull,” Valerian complains, sitting by the fire and making one of the hikers pour him more wine. “Are you going to tumble her or not?”

I let out a nervous giggle, because that hadn’t occurred to me, but why not? Wouldn’t it be fun? They’re all so pretty. Cardan’s eyes narrow, though. Apparently he doesn’t agree that it would be fun. “What, here? In the dirt? Certainly not.”

“What would be the appeal of cavorting with a mortal?” Nicasia asks loudly. “They’re such dirty, short-lived things.”

“Really?” There is something odd and tense in Cardan’s voice. I cock my head toward him, trying to pick it out. Like pulling a loose thread on a scarf. “What had you and Locke planned for the sister, then?”

Nicasia sputters, and Valerian laughs. The words wash over me. I barely mark them.

“It is said they have a certain earthy charm,” Locke remarks, unruffled as ever. “Although I myself would not know. Would you, Cardan? Your home is filled to the brim with mortals.”

“No,” Cardan says. Something has upset him. I rest my head on his shoulder, and he looks at me like he forgot I was there.

“I would know,” says Valerian, although no one asked him. “The charm is in reminding them where they belong. Beneath us.”

“Now, that is dull talk,” Cardan sighs. He drinks deeply from his goblet then flops back onto his cushions. “Come, Jude, lie back with me and we shall watch the stars until midnight.”

I do as I’m told. It’s nice, being close to him. His body is so warm, and I haven’t had the chance to just lie next to a boy before. Or anyone I wasn’t related to, really. Mom and Dad and Taryn and Vivi and I would pile onto the same couch to watch movies, back before Vivi went away to college, but of course that isn’t the same as this. There’s familial intimacy, and then there’s a night alive with possibility, and the body of someone pretty beside you.

I bury my face in Cardan’s shoulder. He smells sweet, like apple blossoms, like cinnamon on morning toast, like all the good things. “What happens at midnight?” I ask him. I don’t want this to ever end.

“Oh, Jude,” he says on another sigh. “At midnight, we go home.”

---

Tagging people who said they wanted a part 2 (in comments or tags): @lilithsaur @highqueenofelfhame @fantasyfox101 @emeralddaydream13 @b00kworm @amandlas @gellavonhamster If you want to be tagged in future posts, let me know!

#jurdannet #jurdannetrevels #folktober2020 #jurdan #judecardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #tfota #mine: fic #fic: folktober

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stetervault · 4 years

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Hey, love the blog!!! I was wondering if you had any fics where Talia is terrible to Peter and/or Stiles? I know that's a lot of fics so maybe ones where it's a notable plot point? Thanks!

Here are some I know, with various levels of bad alpha/sister/all-around person!Talia (some have her redeemable, others not so much):

IBDC: Teen Wolf by moonstalker24 --> Pretend to be dating AU Part 1 & Part 2

Peter pretends to be Stiles' boyfriend, which quickly evolves into being his actual boyfriend.

The Sphinx of Beacon Hills by Guede (Stetopher)

Stiles is a sphinx, and he’s winging his way to visit his buddy Scott when a storm drops him in Beacon Hills, the craziest, crankiest, coldest place ever. And somehow, he ends up with a bunch of werewolves.

The Other Husband by Therapeutic_Steter

Tumblr Prompt: You start working with your spouse and everyone thinks you're cheating because they don't know that's your spouse.

Home by Ragga

Don't be like him, they would say, and then add, or else you get burned.

Unable to bear the whispers any longer, This One left. He forsook those who forsook him, left him bear his scars alone, the scars he bore for his herd. It was better to be alone, stay off the currents, than swim with those most undeserving of his loyalty. So mote it be.

That is, until he met That One.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

God Only Knows by katiemorag

Peter still couldn't quite believe he was being made to attend his niece's wedding, reason number one being that her fiancé was Peter's ex, who had cheated on Peter with Laura.

There's also the slight issue of his entire family refusing to believe that his boyfriend, Stiles, actually exists.

You Are so Much Better Than I Ever Knew Before by lavenderlotion

“Oh sweetheart,” Kate cooed, voice sickly sweet and obviously fake. “You didn’t think you were dating...did you?”

Stiles just stood there, still in shock and only coherent enough to shrug his shoulders. “Oh sweetie, that is just too cute. No, Der-Bear here just needed something to keep his cock warm while I was away visiting family.”

what the dust reveals by WindyRein

That one where Stiles and Peter are soulmates and there's spy-assassins and wings and other stuff.

You Just Got Ghosted! by Ragga

“What’s your name, angel?” little Stiles murmured even as his eyes fell closed, quickly losing his battle against sleep.

Stiles smiled. It was a little sad but also heavy with the knowledge that what he was doing was the right thing—heavy with the knowledge he didn’t deserve the moniker bestowed upon him.

“You can call me Mietek.”

Or the one where there's time travel, feels abound, two Stiles in one timeline, and one of them stuck somewhere between the planes of existence. Yet a ghost can still manage to save the day and get the girl. Or the wolf. Manly wolf. Because Peter.

Toothed Morality (Send Me Flowers) by rightsidethru

“The world is a dark place, moje kochanie; it is one filled with monsters, always ready to gobble you whole. Be wary of the promises they give: seal every vow with blood and bone and Name. A True Name, one that will bind them to their word.”

“But how will I know that they’re telling the truth, Matka? Couldn’t they lie…?”

“You’ll know, mały płomień.”

Send Newts by Bunnywest

The first thing Peter notices is that Talia’s smiling, and that in itself makes him suspicious. When he sees that Laura’s smiling too, his distrust intensifies. “What?” he demands? “What is it?” Talia’s smile widens as she serves him a cup of tea, made just how he likes it. “Just wondering if your new husband knows you’re such a curmudgeon in the mornings,” she says sweetly. Peter’s cup clatters against the table and the tea spreads in a puddle, ignored. “My what?” “New husband,” Laura chimes in, and then she’s wrapping her arms around Peter’s neck, and saying, “Thank you, Uncle Peter,” and hugging him tight, and the memory of last night tugs at him again. What happened again, exactly?

The Various Triumphs of Mischief Bilinski by Whispering_Sumire

"Hello, Chris," sings a honeyed voice from behind.

Chris' attention snaps toward the intruder, his gun already out of its' holster and aimed at whoever it is — a boy, apparently, with braided russet hair, a red jacket, and wise eyes. He's wearing a gas mask, but Chris can tell by the way his eyes crinkle around the edges, the way sun-burnt sand swirls in his irises, that he's smiling.

Chris cocks his gun.

"You killed my father," he says.

"No offence, but he totally deserved it," the stranger agrees with cheerful solemnity.

"What the hell are you doing in my home?" Chris demands. The kid is perched on a windowsill in Chris' office, as nonchalantly as if this were something he did every day, as if they were familiar.

"I was just wondering," the kid speaks softly, fond amusement sewn through with a peculiar resignation, "how you'd feel about putting down some nazis?"

[Or: The one where Stiles goes back in time and subsequently fucks with everything.]

The Devil You Know by Triangulum

Hell is busy and Peter is understaffed. There are too many evil people being sent down below and there are only so many demons Peter has to torture them with. He needs to reorganize. They don't utilize group torture nearly as much as they should. Stiles probably has some ideas on that.

Peter is King of Hell, Stiles is his second in command, and Talia summons them for a favor.

Call Me Mary Poppins by Triangulum (Stetopher)

Chris pinches the bridge of his nose and says, "You're telling me you want to fuck the nanny?"

"Don't be ridiculous, it's nothing as stereotypical as that, Christopher. This isn't porn. I want to seduce her," Peter says.

A Stetopher nanny AU that wasn't really asked for.

Follow My Lead by Inell (Peter/Laura/Cora/Derek/Stiles)

Peter can’t quite figure out what’s so appealing about the young agent questioning them about his sister’s murder, but he does know that Agent Stilinski is more than he seems.

The Perceptions of You and I by lavenderlotion

“Baby, why did your secretary ask me if I was here under duress?”

Peter looks at him, blinks slowly, and then tilts his head to the side before asking, “She what?”

“She asked if you were forcing me to be here,” Stiles says, eyes flicking across the room to where said assistant is standing at the punch bowl. “She wanted to know if you were blackmailing me or threatening me.”

“She thinks you’re here under duress because Peter is such a terrifying bastard there’s no way a human Omega would be with him otherwise.”

Rent-a-Date by RebaK1tten

If Peter has to spend Christmas with his family, he's going to have a buffer. Even if he has to get him off a website.

Pissing Off The Straights by Therapeutic_Steter

platypusesrneat asked: Peter's family is alive, rich, and complete assholes. Peter can't stand them and is trying to get out of going to their stupid party. Cue Stiles saving the day!

Prayers to a Lesser God by Green

When the Hales are trapped in a house fire, Peter prays to every deity he's ever read about. Miraculously, one answers his call.

this (let's remember) by sinequanon

Peter has always done his pack's dirty work, but it's not until his sister locks him away in Eichen House that he realizes that he has other priorities.

A Romeo and Juliet type story featuring less suicide and more murder.

Don't Come For His Family by lavenderlotion

In the three years Stiles had been with Peter, the man had only talked about his family a handful of times - and as far as Stiles knew had never once spoken to them. So he wasn’t exactly excited to see the mans family, even though that’s exactly what they were about to do.

It does not go to plan.

Beautiful Like Birds by Whispering_Sumire

"Stiles?" he asks, turning on the light, and Stiles looks at him- eyes wide, a flicker of utter devotion and heartbreaking joy passing his features before his whole face crumples and-

"Daddy?"

John has never seen his son like this, or maybe he has, when Claudia died, but it's different somehow, more, and terrifying because he has no idea why. He's closed half the distance between them before he even has time to think it through, but it doesn't matter because Stiles has bridged the rest and flung himself into John's arms.

He falls apart like that, holding onto John so tightly that it's hard to breathe, but he can't care about that right now because his son is sobbing and chanting "Daddy," desperately into his shoulder.

[Or, the one where Stiles goes back in time to save the world, and surprisingly, survives to tell the tale.]

We Three Can Rule The World by Whispering_Sumire (Steterek)

"Hello," he says softly, setting his fiddle down in his lap, not bothering to stand.

"Hi," Derek replies, half-gruff, then, because he should, "that was- that was beautiful but... you know this is private property, right?"

The boy throws his head back and laughs, and laughs, and laughs. The sound of it is overwhelming in its childish joy, and his eyes positively sparkle when they land on Derek again.

"Yes," he says, unashamed "I knew." Then he's standing, fiddle and bow in one hand, the other stretched out toward Derek, friendly and welcoming, "My name is Stiles."

[Or: The one where there's a fiddler, and two werewolves whose eyes flash blue, and a whole fucking world to conquer.]

The Alpha Thief by Triangulum

Something changes around the time Peter turns thirty. His wolf becomes malcontent and angry. His control, impeccable since he was a child, starts to slip, that inner rage leaking out. Talia's iron clad control over the pack chafes him. He can't explain why, but it feels like his world shifts. Pack members he's grown up with suddenly leave with barely an explanation, without a goodbye. His parents' deaths, something that occurred over five years ago, suddenly feel raw, everything after their passing he remembers feeling stilted and wrong.

What if Malia's existence wasn't the memory Talia took from Peter? And what if memories weren't the only thing she stole?

#ask #steter #teen wolf #fanfic rec #bad alpha talia #stetopher #steterek

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furubabes · 4 years

Text

Okay. Somebody Asked. @shoujobell and @cryptidaicat, y’all encouraged this. I’m gonna tag this #long post if you wanna filter.

So here. I got the urge to write and so I ranked the Fruits Basket couples from my favorite to least favorite. These aren’t my complete thoughts because I could honestly do multiple full meta posts on each pairing, but I tried to justify and explain all my choices. Standard disclaimer, this is subjective and we can agree to disagree.

Part 1: Just the reasonably popular ones

1. Kyoru: Someone’s gonna call me unoriginal for this but it’s fine. Kyoru is the main romance of Fruits Basket! They bring out the best in each other and build each other up as characters. Kyoru is basically my gold standard take on Sunshine Girl x Grouchy Dude, and I’m not even usually into that trope otherwise. Their romance is one of the few that feels so genuinely necessary to the story. They love each other and like each other. Kyo understands Tohru in a way no one else in the narrative does, and vice versa. They’re in love like soulmates and also like awkward teenagers. Kyoru invented romance. If it’s boring to like healthy romances with realistic development, I’ll be boring.

2. Tohrin: If Tohru didn’t end up with Kyo I would only want her to be with Rin. I guess they have some of the same appeal as Kyoru for me - Rin reads Tohru in a way a lot of people don’t. I also like how honest and raw they are with each other. They yell! They fight! Rin is down to just straight up knock Tohru over to keep her from rushing off. Also, they’re both absolute fashion icons. Goth x Prep rights. I firmly believe Tohru Honda is bisexual.

3. Yukeru: This is my favorite Yuki pairing. I followed @yunsoh way back when the reboot first started and her blog has got me absolutely hooked on Yukeru. I think Yuki’s arc would have just made a ridiculous amount of sense if he was gay. It screams comphet. Kakeru is an excellent complement to Yuki, and their bond feels incredibly natural. Honestly I feel like it’s the most organic romantic development outside of Kyoru. I think realistically they wouldn’t have gotten together until post-canon and frankly Yuki shines in his friendships much more than romances, so I’m not absolutely dying for them to be together, but if Yuki’s going to date anyone Kakeru is my pick.

4. Arisaki: Man... I just like them. They strike me as less of an epic love and more of a comfortable partnership. I also read them both as lesbians anyway lol. Honestly I think they both had feelings for Tohru at one point and bonded over it. The way I picture them happening is honestly just Arisa at 25 frantically googling “is it gay to hold hands with my girl roommate who I spend all my time with and also we never date men“ because Saki bought them rings that look like wedding bands but they could just be super close friendship rings and oh god she’s in too deep. They’re dating for four years before they notice.

5. AyaMine: But Jessie! You literally never post about this pairing! Yeah, you’re right. I never think about them actively. But when ranking the canon ships I realized that I like the two of them together because they’re chill and understated. They’re huge loud personalities on their own but as a couple, they just feel like two people who are happy together and like spending time with one another. No drama, no mess, very understated. No plot contrivances driving their relationship. Good for them.

6. YukiKyo: Okay, so I can be convinced to put on my YukiKyo goggles more often than not. It feels iffy because there’s debate about how closely related all the Sohmas are and these two are called “cousins” a lot in school, but since half of the Sohmas are dating each other anyway, I err on the side of them being more of a clan than a proper blood family. Anyway, YukiKyo is my designated angst fuel. I think it would realistically be pretty one-sided from Yuki’s side, since we see him wanting Kyo’s approval from a very young age, but I like exploring the what-ifs of their lives if they’d been friends instead of rivals. In canon, I like to think that after high school they’re not best friends in the traditional sense, but either one could show up with a dead body and the other would help them bury it, no questions asked.

7. Yuchi: Really? Yuki’s wife is my third favorite pairing for him? Look, I adore Machi, and I still like Yuchi. But as I’ve been watching the reboot and reading others’ metas, I think I agree that their relationship could have been very powerful as a platonic one, sort of running parallel to Yuki and Tohru. I like them together but I think there wasn’t quite time for a complete character arc for Machi and her growth sort of begins and ends with Yuki. I don’t object to them being a couple in canon and I think they’re genuinely very sweet, but once again, I think Yuki stands out in his friendships more than anything. I would have liked to see Machi strike out on her own a little more.

8. Haru x Yuki: I don’t have any particular feelings towards them but I love their dynamic already and I think as a couple they’d both be really easygoing and comfortable with each other. I think a childhood crush turned close friendship is honestly the narrative that works best for them so I have no need for the two to date canonically, but every time they interact in the anime it gets a laugh out of me. They’re cool. They’d make a very pretty pair.

9. Mayutori: I’m Mayutori-neutral. I think they suffer from Fruits Basket’s pair the spare syndrome, but out of the side pairings that don’t have too much impact, they’re one I enjoy. Mayu’s fun as a character, and painfully relatable, and I like that Hatori’s eventual romance isn’t with someone who reminds him of Kana or something like that. I also want good things for Hatori. Mayutori has serious heterosexual energy though. I’m not saying this as a pro or con, they’re just very straight.

10. Hatsuzu: Okay, Haru and Rin aren’t this far down because I hate them. I’m perfectly fine with them being together in canon. But I think their romance almost... functions better as individual motivation for their character arcs than it does as an actual relationship, if that makes sense? Rin’s backstory episode is heartbreaking and her motivation to protect Haru is compelling and sympathetic, but their actual scenes together just don’t move me that much. Their romance is the least interesting part of either character for me.

11. Hiro x Kisa: Yeah I never got into it that much. It’s cute, it’s a sweet depiction of childhood crushes, but I’m not a fan of the idea of them ending up together. Kisa’s a cutie and Hiro is entertaining but the two of them together don’t actually do much for me. The dynamic between them is almost like if someone did Kyoru with none of the nuance. Ultimately though, they’re kids. I don’t expect them to have a deep and complex romance.

12. Yukiru: I think it would be a disservice to their characters if they were a couple. People far more eloquent than me have already written plenty of meta on why Yuki and Tohru aren’t what the other needs romantically, so I won’t get into it, but basically I just think their canon friendship is so beautiful and meaningful that I wouldn’t want to change it. Yuki and Tohru support my thesis that not all soulmates are romantic.

13. Tohru x Momiji: Welcome to the subjective dislike corner! This pairing is reasonably popular among people theorizing who Tohru would be with if not Kyo, but for some reason it just sits poorly with me. I can’t rank it any lower because there’s nothing evil or morally wrong about it! I just really don’t like it. I’ve quit a few fics because this pairing came up and I just can’t enjoy it.

14. Kakeru x Komaki: Idk, I just think Kakeru latching onto the one girl who was nice to him and put up with his bullshit and then being with her forever isn’t compelling. Komaki’s also probably his beard. She’s likable as an individual though.

15. Akigure: There’s plenty to say about the age gap, Shigure being in love with Akito since she was a fetus because of The Dream, the implications of a 15-18 year old knowing he’d one day want to be with a then-10-year-old... yeah, you get it. But even if I was able to put all that aside because Soulmate Destiny Logic, I still don’t think I’d like Akigure. I think they’re interesting as bitter, codependent exes, but I don’t like the idea of Akito ending up with anyone who she abused or who abused her. I think she has so much growing to do as a character and staying in a relationship within the Sohma family to do it can’t be healthy for her. I can’t see them living happily ever after, nor do I really want to.

16. Kurisa: I think what frustrates me the most here is that I want to like Kureno and everything about this romance is written to dull his most interesting traits. First of all, the age gap. Yeah, it’s gross, I don’t like it. But even past that, the love at first sight, instant fixation with each other, and lack of actual chemistry just kills me. Arisa’s stated reason to like Kureno is that he reminds her of Tohru, basically piggybacking off the chemistry she and Tohru already have, and his total lack of agency means the plot just sort of carries him along. It frustrates me that Takaya could have done something pretty cool by making them simply friends who have a chance encounter and then build a friendship from there that parallels Kureno’s abusive dynamic with Akito. It would be neat if a stranger’s kindness was the push Kureno needed to get himself out of the Sohmas’ grasp, without all the nonsensical drama about them being in love. It would also be less of a disservice to Arisa, who basically just spends the whole series pining for Kureno after they meet and I hate it. I could write a whole post about this. Maybe I will sometime.

17. Kyoko x Katsuya: I don’t think their story is romantic. I think it’s tragic for Kyoko, and if it were framed that way within the narrative, I wouldn’t object so much to its existence. But... Takaya just really likes age gaps with a younger woman and an older man, so the narrative romanticizes this man marrying his student. Katsuya can be depicted as well-meaning as you want, but he’s still got a ridiculous amount of power over Kyoko. She was also still pretty young when she had Tohru, which doesn’t make things any better because it’s clear that the relationship turned physical when Kyoko was a teen, thus dashing the idea of Katsuya legally marrying her to save her but not actually doing anything creepy. I wish Fruits Basket framed this as a story of Kyoko escaping one dangerous situation by entering a relationship with a huge power imbalance, because that happens to girls all the time and it’s tragic and compelling. The events of the story could stay the exact same and if the framing changed I would be fine with it. But this is not that. This is just a really romanticized teacher/student age gap. I’m not into it.

Part 2: Rarepairs, weird shit, and others (oh my!)

1. Yuki x Kakeru x Kimi: OT3. I’m enamored with the idea of this hot mess polycule.

2. Momiji x Kimi: Chaos meets chaos. This couple would say uwu without any irony and also steal your car keys. They’re both perceptive and smart hidden under a layer of cute and I’d wanna watch them play 4D chess with each other.

3. Kazuma x Kunimitsu: Idk how old Kunimitsu is so if he’s like 20, strike this one from the record. But I saw one post once that was like Kyo slowly realizing Kazuma and Kunimitsu were gay and had been dating for years and it was funny as hell.

4. AyaTori: It’s cute. Opposites attract, black and white hair, and Aya only listens to Hatori anyway. It’s just fun to think about.

5. Megumi x Hiro: They don’t interact in canon I just think Goth x Punk-Ass Bitch is a great concept.

6. Motoko x Nao: They’re both loud as hell and Nao having a gf that towers over him is funny. Maybe Yuki would finally get some peace.

7. Machi x Kimi: I don’t see them actually being compatible in canon but I think they could have a really homoerotic college friendship.

8. Hajime x Mutsuki: This is just YukiKyo, the non angst version.

9. Akito x Hanajima: I’m so wary of shipping Akito with anyone but this is kind of fun. The two are friends in canon and Hana isn’t remotely afraid of Akito. Plus Akito never abused Hana. I can sort of see it.

10. Hiroshi x Yusuke: Makes no sense, wouldn’t be relevant, but if those two just never spent any time apart and continued being a pair for life it would be a really good bit.

11. Akitohru: I don’t think it’s healthy to date anyone who’s previously stabbed you.

12. Kazuma x Hanajima: Stop. Go to jail. Hana’s one-sided crush is funny though.

#fruits basket #fruits basket spoilers #long post #my posts.txt

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choquejuergas · 3 years

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sally rooney, beautiful world where are you

“reading the book again now gives me such a strange sensation. was i really like that once? a person capable of dropping down into the most fleeting of impressions, and dilating them somehow, dwelling inside them, and finding riches and beauty there. apparently i was — ‘for a couple of hours, but i am not that person’. i wonder whether the book itself, the process of writing the book, caused me to live that way, or whether i wrote because o wanted to record that kind of experience as it was happening. i’ve tried to remember what was going on in my life at the time, in case that might help me to understand. i know i was twenty-three, i had just started working at the magazine, you and i were living together in that horrible flat in the liberties, and kate was still in dublin, and tom, and aoife. we went out to parties together, we had people over for dinner, we drank too much wine, we got into arguments. sometimes simon would call me on the phone from paris so we could complain to each other about work, and while we were laughing, i would hear natalie in the background putting away plates in the kitchen. all my feelings and experiences were in one sense extremely intense, and in another sense completely trivial, because none of my decisions seemed to have any consequences, and nothing about my life —the job, the apartment, the desires, the love affairs — struck me as permanent. i felt anything was possible, that there were no doors shut behind me, and that out there somewhere, as yet unknown, there were people who would love me and admire me and want to make me happy”

“and at the same time i was thinking of simon, the mystery of him, and somehow as i looked out the taxi window i started to think about his physical presence in the city, that somewhere inside the city’s structure, standing or sitting, holding his arms one way or another, dressed or undressed, he was present, and dublin was like an advent calendar concealing him behind one of its million windows"

“but do you ever experience a sort of diluted, personalised version of that feeling, as if your own life, your own world, has slowly but perceptibly become an uglier place? or even a sense that while you used to be in step with the cultural discourse, you’re not anymore, and you feel yourself adrift from the world of ideas, alienated, with no intellectual home? maybe it is about our specific historical moment, or maybe it’s just about getting older and disillusioned, and it happens to everyone”

“it makes me feel that rather than worrying and theorising about the state of the world, which helps no one, i should put my energy into living and being happy. when i try to picture for myself what a happy life might look like, the picture hasn’t changed very much since i was a child — a house with flowers and trees around it, and a river nearby, and a room full of books, and someone there to love me, that’s all. just to make a home there, and to care for my parents when they grow older. never to move, never to board a plane again, just to live quietly and then be buried in the earth. what else is life for?”

“this i suppose is what the enlightenment philosophers meant by aesthetic judgement, and it corresponds rightly enough to the kind of experience i’ve had with certain works of visual art, passages of music, scenic vistas, and so on. i find them beautiful, and their beauty moves me and gives me a pleasurable feeling. i agree that the spectacle of mass consumerism marketed to us as ‘beauty’ is in reality hideous and gives me none of the aesthetic pleasure i get from, e.g., sunlight falling through leaves, or the ‘demoiselles d’avignon’, or ‘kind of blue’. but i’m inclined to ask: who cares? even if we suppose that the beauty of ‘kind of blue’ is in some sense objectively superior to the beauty of a chanel handbag, which philosophically speaking is a lot of ground to give, why does it matter? you seem to think that aesthetic experience is, rather than merely pleasurable, somehow important. and what i want to know is: important in what way?”

“for you and me it’s harder, because we can’t seem to shake the conviction that nothing matters, life is random, our sincerest feelings are reducible to chemical reactions, and no objective moral law structures the universe. it’s possible to live with those convictions, of course, but not really possible, i don’t think, to believe the things that you and i say we believe. that some experiences of beauty are serious and others trivial. or that some things are right and others wrong. to what standard are we appealing? before what judge do we argue our case? i’m not trying to tear you down, by the way — i occupy what i suspect is exactly your position. i can’t believe that the difference between right and wrong is simply a matter of taste or preference; but i also can’t bring myself to believe in absolute morality, which is to say, in god. this leaves me in a philosophical nowhere place, lacking the courage of my convictions on both sides. i can’t have the satisfaction of feeling that i serve god by doing right, and yet the idea of doing wrong disgusts me”

“outside, the air stirred the trees, sifted its cool breath over their faces. they climbed into the car together. lola pressed her nose to the window and left a tiny circle of powder on the glass. the church was squat and grey with long thin stained-glass windows, rose-coloured and blue and amber. as they entered, the electric organ played, the scent of incense touched them, damp and fragrant, and the rustle of cloth, the creaking of pews, as everyone stood and watched them processing together up the polished aisle”

“they looked at one another for a long moment without moving, without speaking, and in the soil of that look many years were buried”

“it’s making me think about what you wrote in your email about beauty, and how difficult it is to believe that beauty could be important or meaningful when it’s just random. but it brings some pleasure into life, doesn’t it? you don’t need to be religious to appreciate that, i believe”

“and the house around them quiet and solid with its nailed-down floorboards, with its bright burnished tiles in the candlelight. and the gardens dim and silent. the sea breathing peacefully outside, breathing its salt air through the windows. to think of alice living here. alone, or not alone. she was standing at the countertop then, serving the crumble out into bowls with a spoon. everything in one place. all of life knotted into this house for the night, like a necklace knotted at the bottom of a drawer”

“slowly the breath of the sea drew the tie out away from the shore, leaving the sand flat and glimmering under the stars. the seaweed wet, bedraggled, crawling with insects. the dunes massed and quiet, dune grass smoothed by the cool wind. the paved walkway up from the beach in silence now under a film of white sand, the curved roofs of the caravans glowing dimly, parked cars huddled dark on the grass. then the amusements, the ice cream kiosk with its shutter pulled down, and up the street and into town, the post office, the hotel, the restaurant. the sailor’s friend with its doors closed, stickers on the windows illegible. the sweeping headlights of a single car passing. rear lights red like coals. further up the street, a row of houses, windows reflecting the streetlights blankly, bins lined up outside, and then the cost road out of town, silent, empty, trees rising through the darkness. the sea to the west, a length of dark cloth. and to the east, up through the gates, the old rectory, blue as milk. inside, four bodies sleeping, walking, sleeping again. on their sides, or lying on their backs, with the quilts kicked down, through dreams they passed in silence. and already now behind the house the sun was rising. on the back walls of the house and through the branches of the trees, through the coloured leaves of the trees and through the damp green grasses, the light of dawn was sifting. summer morning. cold clear water cupped in the palm of a hand”

#sally rooney #beautiful world where are you #novel

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atopearth · 3 years

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Collar X Malice: Unlimited Part 2 - Sasazuka Takeru Route

I love how the way to get Sasazuka to go out to look for evidence is to have Enomoto say he'll karate chop the PC if it doesn't work😂😂 The password with 26 friends etc is just the alphabet isn't it? I'm proud to say, I actually got the answer without having to rely on a walkthrough!! Hahaah, not that it matters since I confirmed it anyway, but it was pretty obvious with all the letters disappearing in the letter, but yeah 26 friends was the biggest clue that made me realise it. Anyway, Ichika and Sasazuka are so cuteee, lmao when she was talking to herself calling him a jerk and didn't even realise he was there listening and responding to what she said🤣 It's so adorable how lovey-dovey they are hahaha. Btw I forgot to say that I loveee the chibis in this game, they're so cute!!🥺 Awww, it was so sweet of Sasazuka to have hidden his fever from her because he wanted to spend time properly with her on a date (since they've been busy for weeks on end and haven't seen each other). Okay, sick Sasazuka is so adorable. He's so vulnerable and honest, it's so cute.

Coming from Mineo's route, it's kinda hilarious how different Kazuki is with Mineo compared to Sasazuka. He has utter disgust for Sasazuka and the idea of him being his big brother lmao. Ichika staying over with Sasazuka for two weeks is exciting~ I love how she got Sasazuka to wear a pink frilly apron and learn how to cook🤣 HAHAHA when Ichika tried imagining a Sasazuka similar to Mochida doting on their future child and wanting to leave work asap to see his kid😂 Lmaoo when Ichika told Sakuragawa and Sasazuka that she likes him because she finds him adorable and Sasazuka said if there's something wrong with her head, he knows a good hospital🤣 Sasazuka is always shown as the "smart one" that knows everything best and guides Ichika to the "correct decision" but I honestly don't agree with him so harshly telling her that he shouldn't go back to visit Kazuki during the two weeks because that's "babying" him and not letting him grow up blah blah. I understand what he's going for, and that it's true that they'll eventually have to learn to be independent, but that doesn't mean she has to practically cut him off to do that. He's family, and what's wrong with her not viewing him as an "equal" when he's her little brother? Personally, I think regarding Kazuki's approach to music and everything, Ichika has already begun to acknowledge him for who he is rather than just a little brother, but it's not like she can completely change her attitude towards him now just so he can grow up, it's just forceful. Honestly, I think it just irks me that Sasazuka is supposed to be this guy that knows what's good for her allll the time and rejects everything "stupid" she says and that annoys me. And I guess I also hate that Ichika in this case needs to be the one to make up with him when he's so selfish sometimes and needs babying too. Honestly, Sasazuka saying don't bother coming back if she left to see Kazuki pissed me off the most, and if I was Ichika, I honestly would have just left even if it wasn't to go back to visit Kazuki because I don't think I would be able to tolerate someone who would say that to me. Not enough to be like Ichika to even say that she's waiting for him to come home the next day and made dinner for him anyway!! Maybe this is the reason why I'm still single, but if it is so, then so be it because I don't think Sasazuka's attitude ever really pissed me off until now. At least he knows that he hurt her I guess. I think what I hate is that Ichika is going to understand that Sasazuka was "right" and then be like sorry when I feel like he was the one who definitely went overboard with his words even if she was "overbearing".

I love how Minegishi laughed at the view of Sasazuka eating doughnuts with his snappy attitude towards everything lol. I'm glad that Minegishi is a guy who works hard to earn the trust of the people around him, because that's definitely his job too, since work morale and everything is important for getting results. Honestly, it's not that I don't understand Sasazuka's sentiments, but people aren't robots and going all out all the time will just burn them out and make everything flop, so even though I understand, I definitely don't agree with him and I can understand how frustrating it must be to work with Sasazuka since the way he says stuff isn't the most...likeable either lol. But yeah, that was the past, so it's nice to see how much Sasazuka has changed I guess haha. I'm glad Ichika knew it would be inappropriate to ask Kazuki if he's eating well after the concert though haha. I'm happy that Ichika is seeing how mature Kazuki is through his desire to get his music and feelings to Akito. I'm glad that Ichika moving in with Sasazuka was also something Kazuki wanted (more than forced upon him) since he wanted to be independent as well and not hold Ichika back. Well, I guess that explains why Sasazuka was so insistent on Ichika staying, since seeing her would break Kazuki's conviction to be apart from her.

Anyway, I had to take a break from Sasazuka because I couldn't take how the game loves to make it that Sasazuka is "right" about everything and his attitude rubbed me the wrong way loll. The trip to America was nice because I really liked how they visited his mother's grave and Ichika said something like leave him to me lol, it was so cute. That random American dude hitting on Ichika was very...random lol. Otherwise, it was really cute how Sasazuka proposed to Ichika with Kazuki there. Honestly, I really liked how Sasazuka was respectful of Kazuki etc but at the same time, even though Sasazuka and Ichika don't call him a burden towards them living together blah blah but I really feel like the writer feels like he is? Loll. It's just the feeling I get from how everything is shown I guess. I think what made me most uncomfortable was Ichika though, like I understand she really loves Sasazuka and really enjoyed the two weeks living together and didn't want it to end, but with how she reacted and how smitten she was to be dazed at home waiting for Sasazuka to come back (in the normal ending) and how she just can't stop thinking about him, if I was Kazuki, I would feel like I'm in the way loll, and it's kinda sad how it felt like Ichika just kinda didn't care as much about Kazuki once she experienced living together with Sasazuka? It's probably not the writer's intention but I felt that, and I feel like in order to paint Sasazuka and Ichika as "good people", they just made it that Kazuki planned to move out anyway. I think everything made sense but the way it all happened just didn't feel nice imo lol.

Overall, as someone who's not a big fan of Sasazuka but still kinda liked his original route to an extent, I have to say I'm not too fond of this "sequel". I personally thought his attitude towards Ichika in this route especially with their argument was something of a deal breaker for me because I honestly felt so hurt for her that I would have just left him, especially since even after that, he felt that she was wrong so she should initiate and kinda apologise first even though he knew he was kinda wrong too. Like, yeah Sasazuka has definitely improved his attitude but it's still too frustrating to deal with sometimes and I think this route showed that for me. And I knowww that Ichika enjoys their love life too, but honestly when she told him she was tired and didn't want to do it but he kinda egged her into doing it by touching her etc, it made me kinda uncomfortable tbh, like she wasn’t forced into it of course, but he’s definitely “getting his way” in this relationship waay too much imo. Especially since Sasazuka is selfish for these things yet so intolerant towards Ichika for some things such as the Kazuki thing. Anyway, enough complaining lol. The route was still okay I guess but I do think Ichika was much more like a pet dog (like that dog they picked up) in this route loll. So yeah I really don't think this route made Sasazuka more appealing to me, more like the other way around lol. I guess I just feel like Ichika kinda loses herself sometimes when she's with Sasazuka. On the other hand, Morioka adopting the dog Ichika and Sasazuka took care of for a bit was cutee lol.

#collar x malice unlimited

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soyouareandrewdobson · 4 years

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Alex ze Pirate “Mini Review” 1: About Male Abuse

Alex ze Pirate is in my opinion the WORST “comic” series Dobson has ever written up until this point (date for archives: June 2020). Sure, I agree with people that his “hot take” comics on Star Wars Fans, political issues and virtue signaling for the sake of making brownie points are worse overall cause they are uneducated propaganda that give insight in how much of a loathsome human being driven by spite he genuinely is, but Alex “offends” me as someone who enjoys fiction. It may not be the worst thing ever written, but it just does so many things wrong in terms of storywriting, storytelling, presentation and creating fictional characters, I can’t help but wonder what went wrong that Dobson even remotely thought this thing would be a “successful” comic series to establish him as a creator. Cause I can tell you, having read the likes of Don Rosa’s work on Disney, Hilda, Cleopatra in Space, Spirou, Asterix, One Piece (of which I will talk a lot in my next few posts) and many more, I can confirm by comparison that Dobson’s pirates as a published comic would have only one use on the public shelves: alternative for toilet paper during the COVID-19 epidemic

Believe me, I would love to write an in depth analysis of everything wrong with Alex ze Pirate, from the lazy artwork up to even the publication history of this trainwrack. But doing so would take a lot of time and there is one individual part of this I think deserve at least extra attention. Something that in my opinion embodies quite well a lot of things I consider wrong with this comic. So before I am going over Alex in its entirety (and believe me, the day will come) let me just talk within the next few posts about one certain aspect and story of the comic, that genuinely got me to loath this comic to the core: Sam the Cabin Boy and “his” own individual story Dobson drew in three parts around 2010.

For starters, lets talk who Sam is: Sam is one of the main characters in the comic and actually the first person who joined Alex and Peggy in the initial pages of Legends, the “original” form of Alex ze Pirate.

See, back in 2004, Dobson released Alex ze Pirate in form of a single comic volume called “Legends” which features Alex trying to recruit a crew. The thing is around 78 pages thick and based on what I saw pretty terribly paced. For comparison: When Luffy in One Piece got his crew together, he spend multiple volumes and at least three minor story arcs to get Zoro, Nami, Sanji and Usopp to join him. All while also giving us good insight into the kind of people his new crewmates were (especially Sanji’s and Nami’s backstory got to me), defeating the likes of Buggy and Captain Black, meeting Dracula Mihawk and defeating one of the biggest bastards Eichiro Oda ever created in form of Arlong. What is the story how Sam joins the crew? An orphanage organizes an auction and sells kids off. Which I assume was even illegal in pirate times, so kudos for already showing us how despicable the world of Alex ze Pirate is to begin with and how much it deserves to be nuked in some sort of alien invasion.

Sam also doesn’t really get anything to do when he is introduced, just helping Alex escape on a small boat. Which is weird because he does not know her at all, she is just some stranger who bought him off and has no means to keep him in check, so why even bother following her and not let the mob get rid of Alex?

Anyway, I wish I could tell more about Sam’s involvement in Legends, but I don’t have really more than some scans of it in the beginning and near the end. So I don’t know his involvement in the rest of the volume. I also can’t say how he plays out in volume two, because that does not exist at all. Cause for reasons I will never understand, Dobson just abandoned the idea of telling a “coherent” and ongoing story with Alex ze Pirate and instead went to his colored one page comics/strips with it, turning it into what some people called “Garfield with Pirates” (which I consider a genuine insult towards any newspaper comic out there, even something as Boondocks). And the first thing we see of Sam in “classic” Alex ze Pirate?

The perverted dwarf of the crew showing of his shota underwear so that Alex and Sam stop bickering who is the cutest, leaving him embarrassed and humiliated.

Which kinda sums up his role in the comic to a t. Cause this is what Sam is: He is the buttmonkey of the crew. And honestly, I would not have a total problem with Sam being a buttmonkey, if a) he wasn’t it all the time, b) he would actually do something to deserve any form of humiliation and c) if the other characters in this comic itself would not be some of the biggest assholes I have ever seen, who get away with abusing the poor lad.

See, here is the problem: In a crew featuring a choleric homophobic soulless ginger

A black rat person who wants to fuck the ginger even without her consent

A furry abomination that has the same brain wavelengths as Chris Chan

And a perverted dwarf who tries to impersonate Happosai from Ranma 1/2

Sam is the only decent person in the entire crew. He works hard, he even questions the morality of his friends at times, he is honest, he is not perverted, almost good to the point of childish innocence and he has a very humble “goal” which is he wants to own his own piece of gold. Not even a big pile of treasure, just one single coin would be enough for him.

So he is likeable and relatable. In fact, if anything goes by, he may have been one of the most popular ones in the comic. And yet he is the one who gets constantly abused by “fate” and his friends, because as Dobson would say it, he is supposed to be the buttmonkey. There is just one problem: People do not necessarily like buttmonkeys.

I can primarily speak only for myself here, but I hope what I have to say resonates with others too. See, I get it: A character who is the butt of a joke can be fun. Like Daffy in Duck Amuck. But there is a fine line where a character being humiliated for the sake of a joke is fun (and perhaps even deserved because of his own shortcomings or deeds/actions that make the humiliation sort of kharmic, like lets say Johnny Bravo) and a character being humiliated to the point it feels disproportional, unfunny and mean spirited if not outright sadistic, can be crossed. Take Meg Griffin from Family Guy for example whose only “purpose” for existing within the last 12+ years is to get shat on by her family and the writers. People have no idea for a plot with her, so what do they do? Have her father physically and emotionally abuse her, fart in her face for what is supposed to count as a joke and then add additional insult to it by acknowledging that they are only doing this, because they have no other idea for her and think abuse is fun. Let me just tell you from experience, it is not.

And that is essentially what Sam is: He is the Meg Griffin of Alex ze Pirate, used by his creator as the butt of very unfunny jokes, even if he does not deserve any of the things said or done to him. Want to see some examples?

How about the description Dobson gives Sam within the introduction of one of his volumes, showing how little Dobson as the creator even cares for him.

Why is he called an unworthy “slob” if he is the only one who actually works? Shouldn’t a slob be someone like Dobson, who can’t even take care of himself anymore? Also the confirmation that he was kidnapped at the age of 16. And as we have no clarification how much time passed between Legends Vol. 1 and anything afterwards, that means that in a way Alex is a child abuser.

And now, here some examples by the rest of the cast. Like Uncle Peggy framing him for all sorts of his perverted actions and even trying to kill him for no apparent reason?

Alex trying to kill him with chicken pox…

…Destroying all his worldly posessions which is hilarious because he is a poor orphan…

…Essentially describing him as worthless because he was born with an Y-chromosome…

… doing the kind of thing Dobson claims women would never do to man, using their sex appeal to hurt them…

…forcing him to do some unnecessary and rather petty work for her in a physics defying manner (seriously, the way he holds the axe does not compute with how he swings it. Try it out yourself)

… stealing his food and just being a cruel sadistic cunt to him just because it is fun.

Which is “funny” in so far as that there are a few comics indicating she would jump his dick and ride it like a little pony if she could.

By the way, Talus and Atea are not better. None of them calls Alex out on her bullshit on average, Atea uses Sam to trigger traps in one story arc…

And Talus, the closest to a “friend” he is supposed to have, once for no apparent reason made him dig through his litterbox

And don’t get me even started when the characters decide to gang up on Sam, to the point he gets sexually harassedor is called to be less worth as a human being than the dirt you find in your belly button

Fuck’s sake, even in fanart everyone gangs up on him, even the freaking big bad of the story everyone is supposed to hate or be afraid of

Bottom line, Sam is an abuse victim played for laughs in this comics. And just to clarify, I do not think this was Dobson’s intention. But if the character is undeservingly the butt of jokes for the majority of over 120 strips, it turns nasty. The way Sam is treated, I just find disgusting and indictive of just how unlikable any other character in this comic is to the point I do not want to see this being turned into a proper “franchise”. And I assume others were disgusted by it too, cause Dobson eventually decided to make a story more or less addressing the treatment Sam receives, while also attempting to prove that deep down the assholes with starring roles in this trainwrack care for him. How did this play out? Well, I am going to talk about it, so likely not well. If you want to see the details, grab yourself some popcorn and take a toilet break before we tackle part 2 of this thing.

#andrew dobson #so you are a cartoonist #sjw #comics #comic #webcomic #alex ze pirate #sam the cabin boy #legends #tom preston #disgusting #male abuse #unfunny

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self-ships-ahoy · 4 years

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🎫 here's a gush pass! feel free to gush about whichever f/o you want, however much you want, then send this ask to 3 other selfshippers!

Do you have any idea how much I wanted to receive this?? How much I needed a pass right at this moment??? I’m doing it, I’m pressing E!!

MEDIC GUSH HOURS

I have a lot to say so if you want me to edit this with a cut I will. Cuz this will be LONG.

Oh where do I even start? I love him?? I can’t believe I thought this was familial, there is no going back to that. I’m honestly surprised I was able to suppress it for so long without noticing. I even remember hearing him and thinking what an appealing voice he has-- and not thinking anything of it?? Voices always have something to do with me falling for someone! It’s just how I am! But I’m so happy I realized what I truly felt before too much time passed. Now I can spend Christmas with him as his girlfriend! :D

And speaking of his voice, it’s instant serotonin. Accents drive me crazy. His is ADORABLE. I love how he pronounces ‘-tion’ as a heavily accented ‘schun’, like dude that’s so German and I love it. The r’s coming from the back of the throat, w’s sometimes halfway between sounding like a v and a w, and...just the way he says his long o’s. X3 And do not get me started on those hilariously cute voice cracks. I once counted 3 in one sentence. Adorable. Can girls get Gomez Syndrome? Cuz when he speaks German it makes my heart go Uber.....and I never got the implant surgery. o///o

Ok...Idk if this is gushing or outing myself...but this man has no right to be this physically attractive. That chiseled jaw, that defined nose, those piercing, focused eyes...not to mention the man’s freakin ripped. The way his coat flows in the wind, how he rolls up his shirt sleeves just past the elbow... It’s been bothering me for days. He’s too good looking. It’s illegal. This is how he became a mercenary: killing people with his good looks. A doctor so attractive, they took away his medical license cuz he kept smirking at patients and killing them. I bet he knows it too. The smug devil. This is a stunning male specimen and I have no idea how he exists. How he’s been allowed to walk the planet like this. Who gave him the right to be that...that good looking??

You know what doesn’t help that? Actually, what’s the biggest reason I know about this?? INSTAGRAM EDITS!!! Like oh my gosh some people are just so good at turning us into simps.

*deep breath* Ok...I’m gonna come down from that to talk about his personality.....and how much of a dork he is.

Well first of all this:

Look at that. Look at how happy he is. Having the time of his life playing polka in his home town. I love this little dork. Hearing him laugh fills me with so much joy! Whenever I’m having trouble smiling, I just listen to his laugh and I start to feel better. You know why? Because him being happy-- genuinely happy and carefree-- is all I want for him. I see him conga dance or do-si-do or play the accordion like this, and just act like a doofus without care, or I see him act all cute and loving to his doves...that’s him enjoying life! And when I see him doing that, it makes me want to do that, because I, too, am a secret doofus. I don’t have to worry about my moods or hyperfixations distancing him and me, cuz we’re the same kind of weird (well...experiments aside >_>). He’s a dork and a diva and kook and I get to be that with him.

Listen...I do acknowledge his “”problematic”” side, him being a morally grey boundary-breaking surgeon, and sometimes can be emotionally erratic or distant to his patient’s needs....but I’m not scared of him. He’d never hurt me, threaten me, intimidate me, or even tease me if he knew it made me really upset. I’m terrified of needles, so he keeps me at a distance when he’s using them around me. I am respecting who he was designed to be, though also as a self shipper with a whole tf2 comfort au, I...do reserve the right to tone it down a little. Also I’m pretty sure he’s got an undiagnosed mental illness, and I gotta respect that in his characterization. I saw a post talking about how we really should normalize Medic feeling a wide range of emotions instead of just being deranged or manic. He does care about his loved ones; heck he calls his team his friends, now come on, he didn’t have to say that but he did, that’s gotta mean something. That’s the side of him I like to portray, to sort of make him more human. And the great thing about that is, I don’t feel like it’s an uphill battle because even canon recognizes this about him. ...I think this is the paragraph that makes the least sense, cohesively, but bottom line: I know he’s a troublemaker, but he’s also a human being (albeit a fictional one) and I love and respect him no matter what.

I sure hope he’s not suffering too much mentally because of it. If he’s ever emotionally overwrought, I’ll be there for him, whenever he wants me.

That being said.....gosh do I love imaging fun and domestic stuff with him. Cuz again, he’s capable of that! I wanna do that dorky stuff with him I mentioned back there! Sneaking out of the base to go dancing, joining a conga-line mid-battle, playing with the doves, watching our favorite shows on tv together (very sure he watches Hogan’s Heroes X3), doing some R&R after a tough mission, creating inside jokes spoken in German so no one else understands, holding his gentle hands and kissing them, wrapping my arms around him to tell him to take a break from work, watching each other’s faces light up as we talk about science, just....just listening to the sounds of each other’s voices... He has a very nice inside voice (which he rarely uses unprompted, so it’s a treat). I really think he’s as crazy about me as I am about him (for lack of a better word). Gosh just thinking about him being as lovestruck and distracted as I am right now, wow, he probably had to confess or else he’d explode. XD

You know he can be surprisingly affectionate? Lots of x reader blogs have attributed this to him, one even calling him an “attention-seeking baby’ and honestly I agree. There probably won’t be as many cuddles as I want, but I’m glad at least he likes being loving at all. I can’t wait to tell you about our first kiss. But this is getting very long, and my brain is giving out. I decided to do this at night, when everyone’s in bed! XD

Anyway, this concludes the gush, I love him so much it physically hurts. :D Chances are, I’ll have more to gush about later!

#dang that WAS long!!#but honestly i had been holding that in for a really long time #so thank you so much for giving me this chance ^_^#foreveryours mouse #;answers #💗 Remote Surgery

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notthatiwilleverwriteit · 5 years

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I was re-reading the whole story and I've noticed a lot of moments where zhan punched or slapped jian and no one called him abusive but when he tian did it to mo in the past he always got hate. The thing I love the most about tianshan is that they're relationship is not the typical one and not "rainbows and sunshine" but I wouldn't call it abusive either. Where did this double standard come from?

Good evening, dear anon-san!

I have talked about physical violence, comedy, and toxicity a couple of times. Here are some asks that I think could be related to your topic:

HT as the discipliner?

ZZX and violence in the beginning

Is Tianshan (still) toxic?

Is Tianshan toxic, vol. 2?

I might repeat myself a little but I don’t think I have compared Zhanyi and Tianshan this way before. At least not in so many words. Also, for this ask, I’m going to call punches, kicks, and slaps just physical violence. But please don’t jump to any conclusions. In each case, I will be giving it context, so “physical violence” doesn’t equal “toxic abuse”. It’s just easier if I have some kind of quick way to refer to whenever the boys kick, slap, or punch each other.

“Where did this double standard come from?”

I wouldn’t call either Zhanyi or Tianshan abusive but I do think physical violence is different in nature when it comes to the respective relationships. So, I do see why people treat it differently when ZZX kicks JY from when HT kicks MGS. Because they are different, although they both serve their own purposes.

Context is the key here. I don’t think you should call anything abusive or toxic without a proper context which is exactly what makes all the difference here. This is also partly why I don’t think Tianshan is toxic or abusive. If you separate the physical violence of both Zhanyi and Tianshan from their contexts, they become seemingly similar. A punch is a punch.

Let’s take a look at Zhanyi at first. The comedy in 19 Days (especially in the beginning) is largely based on slapstick comedy. A form of humor that strongly exaggerates physical violence (either accidental or intended). Literally, when someone gets slapped, it makes us laugh. You can see this kind of comedy a lot in cartoons, comics, and anime. It’s not “real” violence; it’s merely a comedic moment that doesn’t have longlasting effects.

Doesn’t that sound pretty much like Zhanyi? Usually, this kind of comedic physical violence is built on JY’s crush on ZZX and him not always being able to hold back while ZZX is the one with stricter boundaries. JY, being the oblivious airhead in love that he is, often ends up getting uncomfortably close to ZZX or making some kind of pass at him or otherwise gets on ZZX’s nerves. ZZX gets embarrassed, bothered or annoyed, and all of us wait for him to explode in 3…2…1… (ch. 1, 4-5, 9-13, 23-24, 29, 30-31, 34, 62, 73, 86, 88, 92, 106, 121, 129, 137, 171, 206, 247, 253):

Even listed like that, ZZX’s physically violent behavior starts to look kind of bad. But if you remember to read them as a part of their context their meaning shifts quite significantly. Prior to those slaps, punches or kicks, JY had:

touched ZZX’s personal stuff without permission

suddenly kissed him on the lips

refused to get up

destroyed ZZX’s precious stuff by being careless

drooled on ZZX’s shirt

suddenly gotten in ZZX’s face and startled him

tried to hold ZZX’s hand while drunk

been pushy with physical affection

practically made love to ZZX’s blanket

been overall an idiot

suggested they took a bath together to save water

squeezed ZZX’s butt

nearly toppled ZZX over

wiped his snotty nose on ZZX’s shirt

jumped him

suddenly wrapped his legs around ZZX’s waist and locked him in an awkward position on top of JY

tricked ZZX with a lollipop he had already sucked on

suddenly flashed his dick when ZZX wanted to have a serious talk

told something embarrassing about ZZX to someone

and finally ripped his jeans while trying to feel ZZX up.

When you put the physical violence in all of that context, it suddenly becomes something else than ZZX being abusive towards JY. Especially when you’re familiar with the characters, what kind of relationship they have, and 19 Days as a publication. So no, I wouldn’t call the physical violence in Zhanyi abusive or ZZX an abusive character. We realize the bruises, bumps and bloody noses are there for a laugh and they’re “healed” by the next panel.

Besides for the comic relief, ZZX also seems to get physical if JY had made him worry (ch. 179, 181, 198):

In a way, that fits Zhanyi as well. ZZX is the protector and JY the one who’s weaker and yet often careless and oblivious. Giving JY a hefty slap in the head is a way for ZZX to take his relief out on something. Could he do something else instead? Sure. But I don’t think that still makes him an abusive character. It’s just an exaggerated way to show how worried he is about JY.

As far as my interpretations go, there has been one occasion when the physical violence in Zhanyi got darker (ch. 141):

Usually, when JY makes a pass at ZZX, it’s lighthearted and comedic in nature. They could have been brushed off as jokes and JY just messing around. That kiss was different, though. In his panic-hazed bout of seizing the moment, JY did something he had wanted to do for years. It wasn’t a joke anymore, and his unrequited love was suddenly there for both of them to see. ZZX’s reaction was more than expected, but the violence was different in nature. He wasn’t comedically annoyed but shocked and upset. However, even this occasion doesn’t come across as “abusive” to me. Rather it was about something that had been simmering under the surface for a long time suddenly bursting out in the open, raw, vulnerable and potentially destructive. By ZZX seemingly reacting the same as always, it was cleverly demonstrated how it wasn’t the same at all.

Now, what about Tianshan? HT and Tianshan are often called abusive and toxic. Personally, I can see where people who think so are coming from even if I don’t interpret HT’s character and their relationship the same way. There is physical violence in Tianshan - there’s no denying that - but again, it’s the context that matters and gives it a purpose, so to speak.

Whereas physical violence in Zhanyi’s case was mainly about comic relief, in Tianshan’s case it’s often about two strong-willed personalities clashing (ch. 138, 160, 222):

Where ZZX slapping, punching or kicking JY is funny to us, HT’s character uses physical violence to overpower and dominate MGS. And it’s rather easy to call that kind of behavior abusive - but again, the nature of it shifts when put into its context.

HT had to use force to get through to MGS who was blinded by his suspicions and distrust due to bad past experiences. Neither of them was wrong and had reasons for acting the way they did. HT needed to assert control to turn MGS’s direction around and make him listen. MGS wasn’t going to yield to mere words, and while HT thought his stubbornness was good and showed he had principles, MGS was still not to ignore HT’s orders. HT took control by force, but I do think it was unavoidable and in a way helped to create a sense of security and trust. In some ways, HT acted like a parent and set strict boundaries for MGS. But again if you take all of that context away, HT’s behavior comes across quite darker and abusive.

Of course, it’s possible some people interpret the physical violence in Tianshan as abusive even in its context. And I can kind of see where those people are coming from even if I don’t personally read the story the same way. Even if in context, HT still clearly used physical force and didn’t give MGS an option. The thing is, though, I don’t really have a problem with HT behaving like he did. For the most part, I’m not bothered by HT being physically pushy or MGS more or less resisting him. It’s one of the things that appeals to me in Tianshan. And if their relationships became drastically different in that sense, I would find it quite out of character for them. However, that also means Tianshan is most probably always going to come across as abusive to some people.

To summarize, I don’t think either Zhanyi or Tianshan is abusive but the physical violence in them is different in nature. And that naturally results in people viewing the seemingly same acts differently. Some people don’t have a problem with physical violence when it comes to slapstick comedy (although, I have seen people calling ZZX abusive, too) but they do think HT’s kind of physical violence is different and actually abusive. Again, I don’t really agree about Tianshan but the “double standard” makes sense because they’re not the same.

In a way, “abusive” and “toxic” are in the eye of the beholder. And we all have different levels of tolerance for it before it starts to change our opinions about the fictional relationship. And I don’t have a problem with that - we all have our taste and what appeals to us personally. However, I’ve come to found out that when people are quick to cry “abusive” at every turn, the context is often forgotten or ignored altogether. The bigger picture. The question of “why is this happening this way?”. “Toxic” and “abusive” have become moral high horses of sorts to make people feel good about themselves and, if possible, to guilt-trip others in the process.

Thank you for your question, dear anon-san!

#19 days #tianshan #zhanyi #Zhan zheng xi #He Tian #answered ask

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mirrerover · 4 years

Text

Shipyard Stars

Spock’s bedroom on Earth would be called spacious by almost everyone’s standards. His parents allocated him almost the entire third level in the building -adequate room to meditate, study, and exercise- upon their arrival one year ago. His father out of practical reasons, his mother for reasons Spock believes might be partially grounded in emotions. Perhaps guilt for uprooting his life on Vulcan. Or out of an impulse to cosset him as human mothers are prone to. Both unnecessary.

The space is minimal and open, per Vulcan tradition, but never seems as small as it does with James Tiberius Kirk at the centre of it. With Jim comes a presence that seems to large to be contained by his adolescent body. Jim is a bright blaze of fire and gold, feelings boldly crackling in the air around him in a way that would be considered shameful on Spock’s home planet. But there’s never shame in the kaleidoscope of Jim’ many human emotions. Only anger.

Spock observes Jim from his mat on the floor. He had been meditating when interrupted by Jim climbing in through the window to unapologetically rummage through his drawers. Jim has taken to keeping many of his things at Spock’s place where they cannot be confiscated by his mother or teachers. A safe place as Spock’s parents haven’t entered his room or gone through his possessions without his explicit permission since he was four.

“May I enquire to the reason for your presence?”

Jim turns over one of his data pads in his hand before depositing it back where he found it.

“They’re sending her up soon.”

After a year on Earth, Spock has become very familiar with how humans will eschew clear and concise language in favour of a mixture of verbal and nonverbal cues. Jim in particular will start every conversation somewhere in the middle, brain ten steps ahead of his words, confident Spock will catch up to him. This time it’s easy. The newest addition to the fleet has been nearly all that Jim has spoken of these last few months.

“The final stages of assembly will require the ship to be in orbit.”

Jim’s bright blue eyes lock with Spock’s briefly before he returns to his task of depositing and retrieving his belongings in Spock’s space at will.

“It’ll be impossible to get to her up there.”

Spock knows this to be the truth. But he has also learned that for however loud and brash Vulcans and humans alike might consider Jim to be, the things Jim does not say or do can be just as telling.

“You do not possess access clearance to it on Earth either.”

Jim sighs and rolls his eyes towards the heavens, indicating that he finds Spock particularly obtuse at this moment. The gesture used to irk Spock. Maybe it still would if he wasn’t trained from a young age in controlling such a feeling because –despite Jim possessing a remarkable mind compared to his human peers— Spock has been at the top of his classes for his entire life, even back on Vulcan where his genetic heritage was thought to put him at a disadvantage. And these days he’s more aware of Jim’s tendency to manipulate others into action by appealing to their baser instincts. Like pride.

“Y’know, I’ve found that a lot of the times it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

There’s a tremor in Spock’s eyebrow that has started to plague him ever since his family moved to Iowa.

“You are choosing short term gratification over long-term gains. Your freedom gets reduced every time you break the rules people set for you.” Jim seems completely preoccupied with packing his bag while Spock considers this a notion worth his attention. “Some might call that short-sightedness.”

The tool Spock gifted Jim for his birthday, a scanner of Vulcan technology that had made Jim come alight upon receiving it, is shoved into the bottom of his bag.

“She would never let me.”

Spock has little doubt that Admiral Winona Kirk would not grant access to two members of the public to roam around on what was going to be Starfleet’s most technological advanced ship in the fleet. Regardless of one of them being her youngest son. Or the other the son of one of their most important foreign diplomats.

Still.

“You should address your query through the proper channels.”

“What’s the point of proper channels if they’re not gonna listen anyway? All that’ll accomplish is tipping them off.” Jim zips the bag closed with unnecessary force and smiles a smile that Spock isn’t sure could be qualified as a smile at all. A sharp and cutting thing showing teeth but no happiness. “Wouldn’t be the same anyway. There’s a difference with having to make do with what people give you and just going out there and capturing it.”

Spock has noticed a growing fascination on Jim’s part with stealing, both in the literal and metaphorical sense, that he firmly resolves to curb in the future.

“I agree,” Spock says, eyes firmly locked with Jim’s. “Things freely given and things taken by force cannot be considered the same.”

Silence can be even louder than words when wielded by James Tiberius Kirk. He lets his gaze wander pointedly across Spock’s room and the sophisticated educational tools provided within it. Material possessions that Spock doesn’t share with anyone but Jim.

“Some are given more than others.”

Jealousy. An emotion even humans strive to repress. But Spock knows that it doesn’t drive Jim as much as it controls many other humans he has encountered. Fairness. Injustice. Those are the primary motivators of Jim’s anger even at his relatively young age.

“Yes,” Spock acknowledges. “We are not born equal.”

There’s a pause to Jim, as if he’s deciding whether he will allow Spock's acknowledgement of his world view to kill the momentum of his growing anger. Within their time together, Spock has become apt at sensing and steering Jim’s moods in a way no one else in Jim’s life has. And Jim, possessing great skill at picking people’s motivations apart himself, seems to constantly swing between joy at being known by Spock and fearful rebellion at being so completely seen by another person.

Vulnerability. Jim hardly ever shows it like he does now, body still and voice soft: “What if this is my only chance? To be on a ship like her?”

Fear. Spock has discovered that in Jim fear and anger run close at times. Sometimes Jim chooses anger because he prefers it over the cold touch of fear. Fear at not living up to his parents, fear of never leaving Iowa, fear of never exploring the stars. His dreams slowly suffocating between the endless oppressive stretches of corn until they die.

“You’ll serve aboard many star ships when you join Starfleet,” Spock says decisively. Like there is no doubt Jim will join the ranks of Earth’s primary space branch. And Spock doesn’t have any doubts. Jim has many qualities that humans admire in one another. Qualities that would even garner respect from non-humans. From Vulcans.

Spock speaks the words as he speaks all his words. Because he thinks they deserve to be heard. And even though Jim is heading towards the exit, shoulders squared like he’s already willing his soft-spoken question into a soon forgotten memory, Spock has little doubt his answer is being heard. Spock finds his own words throw back into his face by Jim in the most inopportune of moments.

“So,” Jim says, caught in the doorway like a frozen storm, “you comin’?”

Within hours of first meeting him Spock had discovered that in Jim’s world there were clear sides. His mother, verbally abusive stepfather, and other figures of authority on one side. And Jim, fierce and alone, abandoned by his older brother, on the other. But since the start Spock had recognized the falsehood of this lone wolf narrative Jim had spun for himself. Their peers are drawn to Jim; they rally behind him in his school rebellions, captivated by his charisma, and cheer him on in his revolts. The day Jim realises the full scope of his magnetism would surely prove to be… interesting.

Also, there is Spock. Where Jim goes, Spock follows, despite his human mother’s reservation and his Vulcan father’s disapproval. Spock’s presence to curtail some of Jim’s most reckless impulses could only prove to be beneficial. It is the logical choice.

So Spock rises from the bed and smooths down the creases in his robes. “I shall accompany you.”

A siren starts to blare in the distance.

“You think that’s for us?”

They’d ventured deeper into the belly of Starfleet’s future flagship than Spock had anticipated beforehand. Jim had been prepared, as Spock had known he would be, circumventing the security with his mother’s cloned Starfleet credentials. The Vulcan technology Spock had gifted Jim in the past played a key role in this deception and had immediately forced Spock to re-examine the tools deemed save to bestow upon Jim’s moral creativity and technical aptitude.

Spock tilts his head to the left in consideration. “Our breaking and entering would seem the most likely explanation for setting off the alarms to a secured facility.”

“Yeah,” Jim agrees, seemingly in awe of the flashing red lights and ear-piercing shrill of the alarm bouncing off the walls in increasing urgency.

Then Jim does something so illogical it stuns. He laughs, deep and boisterous, shaking his frame with tremors as if his body can’t contain the wealth of mirth he’s feeling. A display of emotion so blatant it would be considered indecent back home. Unseen. Spock can feel heat rising to his cheeks.

“We should run,” Jim says when he catches his breath, pupils blown wide in excitement.

“It would be futile. The activated security measures would take too long for us to circumvent. The chance of achieving a successful escape is negligible.”

Another pearl of laughter rips from Jim’s throat. The sound tugging at a counterpart hidden somewhere deep inside that Spock keeps carefully locked behind years of rigid mental training.

“They’ll never take us alive.”

A nonsensical statement as Starfleet would never use deadly force on two adolescent children but Spock knows Jim is alluding to something else he can’t grasp the meaning of yet. Jim’s mother tongue is full of allegories and again Spock curses the language’s lack of precision and layered meanings. But Spock is yet to find a puzzle he can’t solve if he fully applies himself and he doesn’t see how a single teenage human boy could be any different.

Then Jim runs, a flash of gold down a corridor.

And Spock runs after.

@anarchisticandy @blueberrymafia, I finished a 1500 word Spirk drabble I started for you guys 2 years ago. XD

Inspired by one of our fav fics Magpie by @waldorph

#mirre writes #spirk #star trek fanfic #spirk fanfic

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paradisobound · 4 years

Text

Down In the Forest

Summary: Dan Howell is the heir to the throne in his kingdom, due to marry and take the seat within the year. However, he doesn't want that. Running away to the clearing outside of his kingdom every night, he meets Phil, who is from a neighboring kingdom. As Dan develops feelings for Phil, he realizes that his crush on Phil is actually problematic in more ways than one.

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: Vampire!Dan

**Read on Ao3**

A/N: This is my second fic written for the @phandomreversebang! It was based on the prompt by @2easy2hate which was essentially a royal vampire!dan au which I thought was super interesting to try and do! My beta for this fic was @hiddenpastry and they were so helpful and encouraging with my procrastination haha I have plans to release an epilogue in the next few weeks where it'll have a glimpse into the future which Val and I agreed will help to tie up whatever may be 'loose' at this end of this one shot.

The forest was a sacred place for Dan Howell. He wasn’t exactly sure why he felt so calm being here, but he did. The sound of the leaves bristling in the wind and the distance chirps of birds were calming. He was used to coming here as soon as he was done with his studies for the day, after the sun had set and no harm would be done to his sensitive skin.

Today was no different for him. Notebook in hand, and bag slung across his body, he trudged through the grass, past the trees, to the small clearing where he took refuge from the day. He chose this place when he was just a child, after fighting with his parents over his obligations.

His first lesson of the day was writing, then it was history, and finally it was his lessons on moral obligations as the heir of his kingdom. He had a list of rules he had to have memorized before he became heir on his 18th birthday...less than a year away. It was a rule in their kingdom that the eldest son takes over as soon as they turn 18 years of age. It was also a rule that 6 months before they take the throne, they need to be married...but Dan didn’t want to think of that. Especially when his first “party” to find his future wife was in less than a week.

That’s partly why Dan ran away at night, after he was dismissed by his teachers. He enjoyed coming here where he could write in his notebook and get immersed in his own little world, where none of this existed and he could be a normal teenager. Not the heir to the most successful kingdom in modern history.

Dan sat down on the grass, leaning back and resting against the tree behind him. He propped his legs up and opened his bag against his side, taking out his notebook. It was getting well-worn, well-used. But that didn’t bother Dan. Not as he opened to the halfway point of the pages and went back to the story he was writing.

He’ll remain here until his hunger gets the better of him, and he’ll have to go back to his kingdom, back to his castle, to feed.

Because that’s one of the rules of the Vaedian Kingdom: you never feed in public.

It’s not uncommon for the people living around the kingdom to know that the Howells had unusual habits. That’s what they say anyway. Dan didn’t realize he was different until he was taught about it...about his immortal abilities.

Maybe as a child, Dan should have known that when his hunger reached a peak, it wasn’t normal to suddenly have glowing red eyes or sharp teeth that jutted out of his gums. But to his family, it was normal. His entire family was this way, so there was no reason for Dan to be any different.

At the thought of food, his stomach grumbles and Dan ignores it, instead he looks down at his notebook and rereads over the last line he had written down. He doesn’t even know what this story is anymore. It’s more like a stream of consciousness, a way for him to gather his thoughts about his ever changing life as he grows older.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out his pen and begins to scribble down the next parts of his story. He lets his hand and his mind interconnect and even just writes until he can’t anymore.

The moonlight is coming down on him, brighter than it was before. The stars in the sky are illuminating everything around him and he supposes that this is the time he should start heading back.

He packs up his notebook and his pen and slowly stands up, stretching from sitting down so long in such a cramped position. He adjusts his clothing and his bag against his hip and begins the short journey back home, where he’ll have a snack and then go lay down in his bed chamber.

***

“Prince Daniel, you were out late last night?”

Dan looks up from his school work to his servant Johnathon in front of him. He’s got a drink in his hand, and he’s setting it in front of Dan. The dark maroon color is enough to make Dan’s stomach swoon at the thought of indulging in it’s glorious taste. He takes the glass and picks it up, taking a long sip and letting the copper taste sit on his tongue.

“If I may ask, your highness, but what do you partake in when you go out at night after your studies?”

“I go to the clearing and write in my notebook,” Dan answers honestly. He can trust Johnathon. He’s been the family servant for literally hundreds of years and he remains as loyal and as faithful to the Howell family and the Vaedian Kingdom as they come.

“What are you writing about?” Johnston asks, “Practicing your writing skills for when you have to make ceremonial statements?”

Dan shakes his head and takes another sip, “I just write.”

“Stories?”

“Sort of,” Dan replies.

He finishes the last of the drink from the glass and sets it back down. Johnathon picks up the glass out of habit. Dan goes back to his school work, finishing up his copying of the 15 Moral Obligations of Vaedian. He only has one through 4 memorized, and he knows his teacher is going to be after him about it today. He’s trying to memorize as many as he can but the problem is that they are so pointless and boring that Dan really can’t find the will to actually give a damn about any of them.

But if he told this to his teacher, or to his father, he would be immediately cast as being traitorous to the kingdom by being the heir and not adhering to the basic standards.

They’ve been around for millennia and Dan frankly just feels like they’re outdated. Maybe when he’s king he can rewrite some of them. But he doesn’t even know if that’s allowed. Somehow he feels like that is even more frowned upon.

“Your brow is furrowed,” Johnathon says suddenly, pointing to the space between Dan’s eyebrows. “Keep doing that and you’ll no longer be a young prince, but you’ll look older than your father.”

Dan lets out a laugh and Johnathon smiles back before turning on his heels and heading out of the living chamber towards the kitchen.

Speaking of his father, Dan knows he has a meeting with him soon about the party where he’ll be meeting his potential wife. But he really is dreading the entire thing, if he’s being honest. He doesn’t want to go through with any that, and for a multitude of reasonings...all of which are frowned upon.

The clock on the mantel suddenly chimes that it’s one and Dan gathers his belongings and stuffs them into his bag before flinging it over his shoulder. He makes his way to the library where his studies will begin soon and he tries to ignore that heaviness in his feet.

Dan has his meeting with his father following his school time, but he wasn’t entirely shocked by that. He knew it was coming when Johnathon found him in the library and told him he needed to report to his father's office as soon as he was done.

It’s even less shocking that when Dan gets there, his father immediately presents him with a series of photos of the various daughters from the neighboring kingdoms and begins to talk to Dan about how he needs to decide on what one he wants to pursue.

Naturally, none of the girls appealed to Dan. But yet again, none of them were going to anyway when he had a natural inclination to prefer men instead. But somehow, he still found himself being bound by the outdated rules of the kingdom and he pointed to the picture of a brunette girl who’s name was written as “Julianna” underneath. His father seemed to like that choice and waved him off as being able to leave now.

So Dan did, back to the clearing where he always went.

He double checked before he left that his notebook was still in his bag and he grabbed a few extra pens as the ink in the one from the night before seemed to be dulling. He intended to spend as long as possible out in his clearing without any disturbance from any of his obligations.

As he passed by the last set of trees and started to walk into the clearing, he immediately stopped in his tracks at the sight of another person that already had beat him there.

His first reaction was to get angry, because this was his secret spot and how dare a person find it without Dan’s permission. He wanted this spot all to himself with no one else here.

But as the future heir, he knew deep down that he couldn’t act that way. And instead when the male looked up, Dan just met his eyes as a look of shock overcame them both.

“I’m sorry,” Dan begins, “but how did you find this place?”

The male set down his notebook in front of him and Dan looked down long enough to notice it was a drawing of a flower. The male was here to draw just like Dan was here to write.

“I just went wandering in the forest and I happened to see this clearing,” The male says. “I didn’t intend for anyone to know about this.”

“Are you drawing?”

The male picks up his notebook, almost like he’s self-conscious about Dan calling him out, and nods, “I don’t have a space to draw without being distracted and being here has been working wonders to ease my block.”

“So you don’t mind that I join you as you draw?” Dan asks.

The male shakes his head, “No, not at all.”

Dan walks into the space and sits down on the opposite side from the man. He takes out his notebook and flips open the pages to where he left off. He fishes in his bag for a pen and pulls it out, uncapping it with his teeth. When he gets ready to write, the voice from the other side interrupts him, “Can I get your name?”

If Dan had a beating heart, he was sure it would suddenly begin to beat fast. But because he doesn't, he was instead subjected to just an overwhelming feeling of anxiety as he thought about the idea of this man knowing who he might be.

It was common for the commoners around them in their kingdom to know the royal family, and to know their names. But it was uncommon for them to know what the royal family looked like. The only time the royal family opened the castle walls was for the lavish parties and the crowning ceremonies.

By the time those events happen, most people don’t even remember what they looked like because they’ve changed. In reality, the royal family is immortal, but their aging is a different story.

“My name is Daniel,” he finally says.

“I’m Philip,” the man introduces himself, “but I prefer to be called Phil.”

Dan smiles. “Then you can call me Dan.”

Phil smiles back at him and Dan feels something that’s akin to a blush.

They mostly sit in silence, both of them working on their own art before Phil yawns and stands up and announces he should head back home. When Dan goes to say goodbye, Phil makes the sudden announcement that they should walk home together to the village.

Dan doesn’t want to tell Phil about him just yet, and so he quickly says he’s going to stay for awhile and they can walk back together another time. At the mention of another time, Phil smiles and asks, “So you’re going to be here again?”

Dan just nods and says, “I come here every night.”

Dan eventually does make his way back, and it’s even later tonight than it was the night before. When he passes through the castle gates and makes his way inside, he’s greeted by Johnathon who gives him another glass of that delicious red liquid. He takes it with him to his bed chambers and sips it through the night.

Dan technically doesn’t need to sleep. He doesn’t feel tired, he just feels lethargic if he’s used too much of his energy. So after he finishes his glass, and sets it in the hallway for Johnathon to grab when he makes his midnight rounds, Dan just lays in bed and closes his eyes.

Sometimes that’s all he needs to feel anything until the sun comes through his curtains and he has to retreat to the living chamber where he works on his studies until his schooling time comes.

***

His mum stops him the next morning after Dan gets up from his bed. She tells him that they have to talk about his party and Dan reluctantly agrees to follow her to her office where she has plans laid out about every detail.

“We’ll bring in the finest pastry chefs to the kingdom for you,” she begins. “All of the cakes that you can think of will be there.”

“How many people are coming?” Dan asks.

“Well, we’re not opening the grand hall up for nothing, my dear Daniel,” she scolds. “So your father sent special invites to all of the kingdoms around us, with a select few going to some families in the village.”

“We’re allowing villagers to the party?” Dan asks, because he’s truly astounded by this fact.

“Of course!” his mother says. “Commoners are always invited to the parties where the heir finds his wife. It’s a status symbol that you should have learnt about in your lessons. Do I need to have a word with Lady Mallory about your studies?”

Dan shakes his head and immediately refuses the proposition, “No, there is no need.”

His mum gives him a stern look and goes back to discussing the plans.

Dan has to admit that parties in the grand hall are few and far between. He actually only believes that his family has only ever had one party there in his lifetime. Other than that, it remains closed to everyone, including them.

By the end of the meeting, Dan’s proper exhausted and even though he has to go to his studies, he would rather retreat to his bedchamber where he can sit and wait for the sun to go down so he can head to the clearing and meet up with Phil again.

Dan doesn’t even know why his mind immediately goes to meeting up with Phil. He’s only met the guy once and even if they did seem to get on rather quickly, there shouldn’t be a reason for Dan wanting to be with him so quickly again.

But yet, he finds his mind wandering to Phil and his raven locks and blue eyes instead. Lady Mallory calls him out on his distractedness but Dan brushes it off as just being a rough day, not because he was daydreaming about another man.

When the lessons are over, Dan doesn't immediately leave to go to the clearing. He goes to the kitchen first and grabs a snack to hold him over. Johnathon hands him a blood cake when he gets there, and Dan immediately partakes in eating it despite the bitter taste it leaves on his tongue.

The blood is getting old now, a bit stale. Dan can tell right away. The taste is nowhere near that fresh copper taste that he loves so much. The grimace that he gives off is enough for Johnathon to speak up, “They’re going on a fresh hunt tonight, my lord. You’ll have new nutrients tomorrow.”

Dan just nods and finishes the rest of his cake before asking for a glass as well and gulping it down.

The sun is way past set when he makes his way to the clearing with his bag slung across his body. He’s half expecting for Phil to not be there, because for mortals, this is late at night. For Dan, it’s really just a beginning for him.

But he still feels a spark of happiness when he moves into the clearing and sees Phil sat in the same position he was in the night before. He’s concentrating hard in his sketchbook, busy working on another piece that Dan is actually a bit curious to see.

Phil looks up and greets him before he can sit down. When Dan finally does settle down, he chooses a spot beside Phil because he’s feeling a bit better about having him here with Dan in the clearing. In a way, it’s making everything feel less lonely even though Dan used to come here for the sole fact that he wanted to be alone, away from everything.

“Dan,” Phil says out of the blue, “have you ever been to a party at the castle?”

Dan suddenly picks his head up, nervous about actually answering the question because he’s afraid he’ll give too much away, “No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?”

“I’m from another kingdom...Vargaria, and not even supposed to be here. But my father was naturally invited to the royal party. While I’ve attended some of the royal parties my father has hosted, I don’t know what it’ll be like to attend the party at this kingdom. If my father knew I was here, he would more than likely disown me.”

Dan suddenly doesn’t like that. He doesn't like knowing Phil is going to be attending the party and seeing him pick his future wife that he doesn't even want, nor love. Furthermore, he doesn’t know how to feel at the thought of Phil admitting to him that he was from a neighboring kingdom, especially Vargaria. Dan knew firsthand that Vargaria and Vaedian have very tense relations.

Everything about this almost feels wrong, like they’re breaching a line of boundaries in their newly found acquaintanceship that shouldn’t be breached.

“What do you think it’s going to be like?” Phil suddenly adds, not letting Dan say anything in regards to his previous admission.

“I’m assuming lavish,” Dan says. “Lots of people, decorations. Fancy dresses and food.”

“Did your family get invited as well?” Phil asks.

Dan doesn’t know how to answer that. Because if he says no, that’s an obvious lie but if he says yes, then how does he handle the situation without giving anything about himself away?

“I don't think so,” he says, immediately feeling regret cloud his mind.

“Oh that’s a shame,” Phil says. “Would have been nice to at least know one person who is there. I feel like I’m going to be horribly out of place.”

“I will be too,” Dan mumbles.

Phil looks up. “What was that?”

Dan stiffens. “I said I would be too.”

Phil just nods and gives him a sympathetic look and goes back to his drawing in silence.

They don’t say much else, which Dan finds fine because the conversation took a turn anyway and he feels it might be rather awkward to continue it and also keep his identity intact.

When Dan returns back to his bed chambers that night, all he can think about is how he shouldn’t have any further contact with Phil. By rule, they’re supposed to remain civil with their relations with each other from the neighboring kingdoms but Dan still knows that this casual of a relationship is frowned upon.

Sitting at his desk and looking out of his window towards the valley and village beneath them, he sighed. Technically speaking, Phil is meant to be an enemy to him. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t even be looking forward to meeting up with him in the clearing any further.

Nothing of this sort can happen any more. Dan’s putting a stop to it now.

But then that means that Dan will have to give up his writing spot and that thought makes him a bit sad. He can always find a new one, he supposes. But it won’t be the same.

So Dan doesn’t return to the clearing for 3 full nights. He instead remains home and sits at his desk, unbothered with the window open, and tries to write there instead. He doesn’t get nearly as far in his story as he did when he was in the clearing, but he can’t afford to go there anymore.

It’s not until a final meeting with his father finally snaps him that he decides to go back there, needing and wanting to just get away and put an ending to all of this. He doesn’t want any of this. He wants to remain unbothered. He doesn’t want a lavish party. He doesn’t want to be married. And furthermore, he doesn’t want to be king!

When he gets to the clearing, running as fast as he can, he’s met immediately by Phil, whose expression was less than welcoming. “Why did you lie to me?”

“Lie to you about what?” Dan asks.

“You’re Prince Daniel,” Phil says, “Heir to the Vaedian throne and it’s your party that I’m attending this weekend.”

Dan opens and closes his mouth a few times, “How did you find out?”

Phil turns his head, “My father has warned us about you,” he spits out. “Your kingdom is built on a throne of lies.”

“And I don’t suppose yours isn’t?” Dan snaps back.

“I made a mistake befriending you,” Phil snarls. “My father warned me of you from a young age and I feel half-dumb that I didn’t see through you in the first place.”

Dan doesn’t know what to say or how to react. He’s never been in an altercation like this before and it’s frankly extremely unnerving.

“You can’t even speak for yourself,” Phil says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” Dan spits back. “The kingdoms of Vargaria and Vaedian have always been tense. I should have known from the first mention of your kingdom that this was nothing but trouble.”

“That’s tough speak for someone who intends to marry my sister,” Phil presses. “I was told today that you’re planning on marrying Julianna.”

Dan’s memory snaps back to the name of the kingdom on the bottom of the picture of Julianna and he suddenly feels a bit ill. He didn’t even know that’s what he’d chosen but maybe that’s why his father had seemed so pleased with himself.

“You’re not marrying her, and our kingdoms are not going to be united by the bloody hands of you.”

With that, Phil turned on his heels and walked away, leaving Dan feeling anger beyond anything that he has ever felt before.

How could he ever think that Phil was ever a decent person? Surely his first mistake was trusting a stranger anyway.

When Dan walks back to the castle that night, he feels an overwhelming sense of dread, and he finds himself resting in bed the entirety of the following day.

***

“The party is in two days, Daniel, and you’ve hardly done anything in preparation for it.”

Dan looked down at his notebook that was poised open in front of him to avoid the unwavering gaze of his mother as she hounded him about this. He didn’t want to go through this lecture again. It’s one that he’s gone through three separate times now over the past day.

“I wasn’t aware I had any preparations to do,” Dan snapped back.

His mother rolled her eyes and tossed up her hands, almost in defeat. “Well, have you ever sent a letter to Julianna of Vargaria?” She asked. “The kingdom has sent a letter on your behalf but you should have known to send the letter yourself as well.”

“I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Good Lord, Daniel! What has gotten into you?” His mother finally snapped. “We have been preparing for this day for almost 18 years and you’re about to ruin it all. I don’t understand where your attitude has gone these past few years. You’ve turned into a snub-nosed little brat!”

Dan flinched at the insult, trying to not let it get to him. So many thoughts ran through his head. Like how his parents lied to him for so many years. How they never actually cared about him, just about their kingdom and its reputation. About how they hid who he really was until he was old enough to realize that he’s been born into a kingdom of vampires amongst humans.

Finally, with the tip of his tongue clicking against the back of his teeth, he spits out, “I don’t want to marry and I don’t want the throne.”

He slams his notebook shut and gets up to leave when the feeling of her hand on his wrist in a tight grip stops him. He whips his head back, staring at her aggravated expression.

“You’re not leaving right now,” she says.

“I have nothing more to say right now,” Dan says back, trying to remain calm but his demeanor failing quickly.

She lets him go and he quickly rushes out of her office, ignoring how deafening the silence from her was to his ears when he heard no more cries of protest leave her.

His eyes gathered with tears and he fought to keep them back as he desperately wished more than ever that he was never born into this life. He should have never been born as a royal and he should have never been born immortal. He would have much rather loved to have been a commoner who receives one life and then gets spared the rest of eternity.

Before he knows it, he’s ran back to his secret clearing. Dan stood there, his chest heaving and his eyes watering heavier as he lost his battle and unleashed the sobs that wracked his frame.

“Oh what does the prince of bloodsuckers have to cry about today?”

Dan picks up his head and sees Phil sitting there, drawing away in his sketchbook again. Dan honestly wishes he would have never encountered him again but it’s clear that luck did not work in his way.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to go?” Dan asks. “Somewhere maybe in your own kingdom?”

Phil just shrugs and looks back down at his sketchbook, “It’s easier to be here than it is to be back home.”

Dan sits down on the grass and wipes away the wetness from his cheeks. He should be embarrassed crying this much over something as stupid as the mention of the rest of his life. He should feel embarrassed for the fact that he was crying in front Phil after what had just happened between them.

But another part of him just doesn’t care anymore. He doesn’t care about any of this. He wants everything to just cease around him and end but it’s never that simple. It’ll never be that simple as long as Dan is immortal and the world around them still passes like normal.

“Why were you so nice to me when we first met?” Dan finds himself asking.

Phil shrugs again and doesn’t speak.

“What made you change when you found out who I was?”

The curiosity was getting to Dan, not just because this was Phil, but because his mother's words were still eating away at his core but he also felt like maybe it was a bit rebellious to speak to the kingdom he’s supposed to be marrying someone from.

Phil looks up and Dan sees his expression quickly change from hardened to confusion. He blinks a few times and then finally speaks, “Does it really matter?”

Dan wipes the remaining wetness from his cheeks and shrugs because no, it really doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to know. He does want to know why in a way.

“So what are you drawing today?” Dan asks.

Phil turns the sketchbook around and shows him an array of flowers and trees. It’s actually really beautiful. But Dan doesn’t want to stroke his ego and tell him so after their outbursts.

They sit in silence for a while, and eventually Phil leaves without saying a word. Dan supposes that wasn’t all that painful. In a way, he did see Phil as a sort of new friend when everything was just beginning with them. So for him to be seen that way again in a new light wasn’t all that bad.

His stomach is rumbling by the time he finally gets up to make his way back home. He’s feeling a bit lethargic, and his skin a bit inflamed. And it’s only when he’s back in the castle and he falls to his knees while Johnathon grabs him, that he realizes he was just in the sun for a little bit with nothing to eat.

In that respect, he almost got his wish that everything would just end.

***

It’s the morning of the party and Dan wants nothing more than to leave and run away. He doesn’t want to make an appearance in front of everyone while he meets Julianna for the first time. He still only has a vague knowledge of what she looks like, just based on the photo that he was presented with for her.

And what’s worse is that all he could see was Phil in her features.

Dan wishes that he could forget about Phil. He knows that he needs to, but yet he can’t stop thinking about his special spot and seeing Phil there every time that he’s gone for the last few trips.

They got along so well when they first met, and Dan really does deep down want to be friends with Phil. He’s not even sure why his heart is telling him that it’s the right thing to do but yet, he does feel deep down that it is.

He’s confused.

Dan’s known for as long as he’s been able to freely think that he wasn’t attracted to women. He much preferred men. It’s something that he’s had to keep a secret, but he did tell Johnathon in pure confidence when the overwhelming urge of shame for his kingdom overtook him one night when he was told about the marriage.

Now that he was actually being forced to marry for the good of the kingdom, his memories of the days where he used to dread this are now here. He’s stood in front of his wardrobe, with his ceremonial garb hung in front of him. Tears are gathering in the corner of his eyes and he’s realizing now that he can’t back out from this.

A knock on his bedroom door shakes him out of his head and he wipes away the tears with the back of his head as he yells an airy, “it’s open” towards the door.

His door slowly opens and Johnathon walks in, a glass on a tray balanced on his hand, “You were looking a bit peckish earlier, Daniel. So I brought you a fresh drink to hopefully give you some more life.”

Dan lets out a small laugh as he walks towards him and takes the glass in his hand, indulging in the coppery taste on his lips. Nothing will ever be better than fresh blood, but it’s unfortunate in the fact that it’s in high demand: it’s not all that plentiful.

“Where did this come from?”

“A freshly hunted deer from just a few hours past.”

Dan nods and finishes the rest of the drink in one gulp. He hands Johnathon back the glass and wipes the excess liquid off from his lips with his hand.

“Are you ready for this evening?” Johnathon asks him, the question seemingly out of the blue.

Dan shakes his head, “I don’t think all the years in the world would ever make me prepared for this evening.”

“It’s not your royal marriage ceremony, you know,” Johnathan says in sympathy. “It’s just meeting a potential wife. You can still turn her down if you feel like she is not fit for you. There will be plenty of other suitors who will love to…”

“Johnathan, you know that I don’t want to marry a woman,” Dan says.

“But I’m afraid you have no choice.”

“I’m aware,” Dan answers back, his words catching in his throat, “but I’m afraid that I think I have many fallen in love with someone else.”

“And who might this person be?” Johnathan asks.

“A man.”

***

The party is in full swing. Everyone is in extravagant gowns and Dan, looking down at the guests from the balcony of the dining hall, can see how fancy everyone looks. Dan casts his glance around the perimeter, seeing if he can spot who he’s looking for. And sure enough, stood with a drink in his hand was none other than Phil, laughing with what appeared to be his sister, Julianna.

Dan’s due to make his way down the grand staircase in just a few moments. During this time, he’ll be expected to walk down the stairs, stop at the end, and extend his hand out to Lady Julianna. He’ll talk her hand, they’ll walk to the middle of the dining room, where the guests are mingling, and will perform their first dance together. If Dan likes what he sees and what he’s been presented with, he can then announce at the end he has chosen to marry her.

But Dan already knows he’s going to turn her down.

Dan’s not sure when he fully came to the conclusion that he, deep down, was actually falling for Phil. Maybe it came when he realized he couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or when he couldn’t stop thinking about how well they got along before they realized who each other were.

Or maybe it’s a deep seated need inside of Dan’s core to just say fuck the system and to do what he wants to. Which is not only marry a man but also marry someone he shouldn’t even be marrying.

In some convoluted way, he’s halfway there if he marries Julianna.

Just then, the music slowly starts and Dan feels an ache in his chest that surely would be his heart thumping if it actually beat. He squeezes his fingers in his palms and slowly moves into the view of the bottom of the staircase where everyone is gathered around, staring up at him. He hates the attention. More than anything else, he just wants to hide and be away from everyone's center of sight.

His mother and father are stood at the foot of the stairs with Julianna standing in between them and everyone else standing behind. Julianna looks beautiful, Dan can’t even disprove that. Her features are stunning and her dark hair is cascading so nicely over the shoulders of her dress. Dan almost feels bad knowing he’s not going to actually marry her.

He descends the stairway and makes it to the bottom where he takes Julianna’s outstretched hand and leads her to the center of the ballroom. They make eye contact and Dan sees her beautiful blue eyes staring back at him with intent, a smile on her lips.

When he looks at her, all he can imagine is Phil...and he feels a bit sick.

Dan loses eye contact with her halfway through their dance. But that could also be because he keeps stepping on her toes and he knows that she’s flinching and giving him some looks but really, he can’t be assed to change the way he’s stepping. He doesn’t want to be here so why would he focus on doing a perfect first dance?

The music stops and he bows and she curtsies back. They turn to the crowd and bow again as everyone applauds. He turns back to her and gives her a quick smile before separating from her and rushing away.

He’s only just arrived to the party and he already can’t stand to be there for any longer. He wants out. He wants to leave, to not be there anymore. He grabs at the collar of his top and rips open the buttons, letting the fabric fall open, exposing his neck to the cool night air.

Dan’s running out of the kingdom now, and he’s not looking back. He’s never used his fast speed before for anything other than some gimmicks when he was a kid, but now he’s running as fast as he can to the clearing. When he gets there, he stops short and collapses to the forest floor, tears running down his face.

He’ll have to leave his kingdom now. He can’t go back there. He’s made a fool out of everyone...including himself. What was he thinking running away like that?

Oh right...because Dan can’t marry Julianna when he’s in love with her brother. Like the pathetic person he is, he’s going to spend the rest of his immortal days pining over a guy who hates him and who Dan should hate back but can’t.

He furiously rubs away the tears from his eyes and takes a shuddering breath as he tries to calm himself down. He can survive in the forest, Dan supposes. He’s never had to hunt for his subsistence before but he can surely do it. He’s just gotta catch a deer or two, right?

God, he’s never gonna be able to make it. He should have never ran away.

“What a performance.”

Dan looked up and followed where the voice was coming from. Phil was stood next to a tree, his arms folded over his chest. Dan didn’t really want to face him right now. He just wanted to be as far away from any of Phil’s family and kingdom as he could be after humiliating himself with Julianna.

“If it makes you feel any better, Julianna didn’t like you either,” Phil says with a chuckle.

“How bad is it?” Dan asks, the words catching in his throat.

“Everyone is a bit chaotic but I left in the midst of it all,” Phil says, walking forward and then taking a seat next to Dan.

“I figured.”

“I don’t blame you,” Phil says. “My family is wanting me to marry someone as well but I can’t find the reason to want to.”

“Yeah…” Dan says, “I just do not fancy…”

Dan stops himself and looks at Phil who is studying him with wide eyes.

“You’re attracted to men?” Phil says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Dan hides his face and then picks it back up and nods slowly.

“I am too,” Phil says softly.

They sit in silence, and Dan feels like he can cut the tension with a knife. He’s never been in a situation or a conversation like this before. It was a bit daunting and a bit terrifying all at the same time. He didn’t know what to think or how to react.

“When I first met you, I was really happy to find someone that was like me,” Phil says. “In my Kingdom, I was the outcast. I never fit into what anyone else was doing. That’s why I came here to draw. Being here was like an escape from that and when we started meeting up, I genuinely felt like I was meeting someone just like me.”

Dan felt the same way. He could never put into words how he felt about meeting Phil but this was exactly it. Meeting Phil felt the same way for him. Maybe that’s why he took a liking to Phil so quickly?

“I felt the same way,” Dan says. “I really liked being able to just sit here with you.”

Suddenly, a hand is coming up and touching Dan’s cool skin. His chin is being tilted to the side and Dan follows the lead as he comes face to face with Phil. Phil leans in and presses their lips together in a burning kiss. Phil’s lips felt so warm in comparison to his.

When Phil pulls back, Dan stares at him, not sure what to do. Phil just laughs, “Your lips are cold.”

Dan just laughs and shakes his head, “Comes with the whole...package.”

They sit in the clearing for a while longer until Dan can hear his name being called by Jonathan and he figures he needs to actually go back and face whatever consequences are bearing his name. He makes his way back to the castle but not before sharing another quick kiss with Phil and then saying goodbye as they both leave.

At the castle, Dan is yelled at and cursed at and then banished to his sleeping chamber which he knew was going to happen anyway. When he gets to his room, he strips down and dresses into his nightgowns and slips into the seat at his desk. He opens up his notebook that he’s been writing in and he writes down the words:

I love Phil from Vargaria

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #angst #happy ending #vampire!dan #royal!au #phandom reverse bang #prb20 #princesslexi763fics #my fic

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