#his persona is already larger than life - would he fall into it harder just so he doesn’t disappear?
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i see your post about leo being relieved that hes trans because he learned his stripes would go away and i raise you: leo, who spends his entire childhood in fear because donnie told him that he will lose his stripes when he is younger, only for them all to realize hes trans when they dont
Oh…Leo having so much value in his looks and especially his stripes because they’re what make him stand out the most, and in turn it helps solidify himself a role in the team as the “Face Man.” Sure, he absolutely thinks himself good looking with or without the stripes, but his stripes are striking and he knows it, and they mean more to him than just looks anyway. Knowing all this time that his stripes were going to fade and yet still taking on his title and still being as confident as he is - imagine he’d already come to the conclusion that his worth on the team, in his family, was always on a timer.
Then that timer goes away. And he’s left with relief and tells himself that hey, he’d have been just as cool looking without the stripes anyway! But…he’s glad to keep them. Even if his role isn’t quite just “Face Man” anymore, his stripes are a part of him.
And it’s been really scary to think that someday he’d look in the mirror and see a part of himself missing.
#non au ask#Leo values his looks and clearly loves his stripes#but I think as well his stripes make him specifically unique from his brothers#and it’s scary that one of the things he has to offer that’s uniquely him could vanish without his consent#so knowing he’s actually trans and his stripes won’t fade - that’s a relief!!#he’ll stay looking as he is - his stripes are a part of his identity after all#Leo is the only one of the brothers who has anything on his face with no mask#his red stripes absolutely make him stand out#and he likes that - he likes how eyes immediately go to his face#being perceived and acknowledged and just#getting attention - he doesn’t take it lightly#so without the stripes…I wonder if he’d be scared of fading into the background#his persona is already larger than life - would he fall into it harder just so he doesn’t disappear?#and how silly will he feel when it turns out all his worries didn’t matter - that his stripes were there to stay?#how silly would he feel if he’s still scared they’ll fade anyway?#actually this kinda brings me back to a thought I had#about how the turtle aspects of the boys are really interesting#but also potentially really difficult on them#because - yeah they’re turtles#but they’re also half human#so you have to wonder if they’re always comfortable in their own skin#or if sormtimes something that would be natural for a turtle feels WRONG
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But there's a little more to it, isn't there? It's not just Vincent's trap, it's larger than that.
The show is already dealing with the issue of cycles, patterns, repetition even if details here and there are skewered when an event occurs again -- the whole line of warrior nuns is a cycle; Adriel's prophet persona and his building of a church happen in the past we're told of and in the present we are shown; the very fact that we are introduced to a dead Ava who gets another life at the start of s1 and that we later say goodbye to her (for the time being, at least) as she is dying and on the cusp of getting yet another life on the other side at the end of s2... It's less how an action returns than what it might hide underneath.
Breaking a cycle is hard, even though that is what Ava purports to do ("I'm going to be the last warrior nun"); it's harder still when one does not (or can not) look into the past to understand how one risks running into the same problems of their predecessors by retracing their steps.
Mary wasn't wrong in her quest as she sought justice/resolution in Shannon's murder; Lilith isn't wrong either as she searches for a missing Mary. Their cause is not so much in question as their execution is, since both of them go it alone -- Mary because of the preponderance of "a mission" and the manipulation of a man pulling her sisters away from her, Lilith because of similar reasons while the rest of the OCS deals with other problems. In both cases, there is a sort of overconfidence (two shotguns that would "negate" the need for combat training, strange demonic powers that would supposedly give one an edge over others) -- and they are both overburdened by exterior forces, too. Nobody who looks for a missing person can do so alone in the real world so in fiction it is an even heavier, more difficult, perhaps unreasonable job to bear.
One of those big, glaring "messages" in the show is the importance of community, of belonging, of cooperation. So the lone wolf behaviour both characters exhibit is bound to fail as they are both denied the chance of using their real advantage:
And then there's the pattern of misplaced faith/trust which we already see in different degrees along the episodes -- Ava's misplaced faith in "freedom", Beatrice's in "selflessness", Jillian's in her own abilities (just as a young Suzanne also overestimates her own power), Mother Superion's in Duretti, Duretti's in cardinal William, Vincent's in Adriel, Michael's in Reya... There's a whole slew of trust put upon people and concepts that are wholly mistaken.
Mary and Lilith both end up trusting the word of a man (as opposed to the women of their community) and a father (as opposed to the sisters of their community), which isolates them even more from their group, ultimately resulting in Mary's disappearance and Lilith's change of allegiance.
So it's not just Vincent's trap (since even he himself falls into it, by putting his faith into some man instead of into the broader collective body, paying the price for such foolishness) -- it's what he stands for, values that are present in their fictional world as much as in our real one and that we can all easily fall prey to.
In a world of savage individualism, where we're all fed the lie that we can do anything by ourselves, that we don't need others, that certain ideals of solidarity (between workers, between women, etc) are obsolete and unnecessary in a post-whatever world, the trajectory of both these determined women with worthy causes is a good reminder for us to look at our own paths in life and evaluate whether we might or not be following in the same direction: neglecting those who are around us and even ourselves in the heat of the moment, competing rather than working together, so blinded by the belief (however justified) we carry in our principles that we would unnecessarily endanger ourselves in their pursuit...
There's a theme at play. Yes, they're both trying to fix their families somehow, be it with information, be it by rescuing an absent member of it. They do so, however, by stepping away from that same family and there lies the trick and the tragedy -- especially if we consider that Shannon, too, was trying to protect them all while keeping silent on her suspicions, carrying it all upon her own shoulders... Until she was killed.
(As a side note, it remains to be seen, concerning the repeated actions and consequences of "splitting up the team", whether Beatrice's exit from the OCS context, also faring out on her own, might in some way see her fall into a similar problem or if there will be some interesting subversion to spare her and grant her some other sort of needed sisterhood. It would be nice to see the end of at least one violent cycle after all...)
A parallel I haven’t seen much talk about: how Lilith goes on the warpath for Mary the same way Mary went on the warpath for Shannon (and how they both fall into Vincent’s trap).
Season one Lilith was all about the OCS (or rather her ambition for the Halo). She told Mary not a day after Shannon’s murder that she needed to think about the mission, not her own personal agenda (which was not only hypocritical, but as Beatrice said, unfair). And in that same scene, she dismissed Mary as not being a true member of the team because she wasn’t a nun and didn’t take vows like the rest of them. She was a free agent who operated on her own terms.
But after their tearful reconciliation in the catacombs, Vincent’s betrayal, and Mary’s subsequent disappearance under an army of wraith demons, Lilith’s priorities shift significantly. The start of season two finds her as the new lone wolf as she hunts down Vincent herself. And while the OCS is just as interested in finding him to get to Adriel, Lilith’s only concern is Mary. She’s ready to tear him apart herself, just as Mary threatened that man in 1×02, and then later goes through a whole squadron with her bare hands.
The part that really gets me, though, is Lilith and Vincent’s scene in the car. She’s finally got a lead after two months, finally has a location on Mary. And despite being outnumbered, despite being about to walk into Adriel’s fortress without backup, there isn’t one shred of fear or hesitation. She just tells Vincent to signal the guards. “Put a foot out of place and I’ll –”
“You’ll kill me. I know,” Vincent says.
A small smile plays around Lilith’s mouth. “I won’t kill you,” she says easily. “I’d never take that pleasure away from Mary.”
She gives him a pointed look and Vincent just grimaces before they climb out of the car.
Vincent is jovial as he greets the guards and then gestures to Lilith with an outstretched arm. “I have brought home a friend.”
And Lilith, chuckling, slides right into the embrace like it’s nothing, even putting her head on his shoulder. They walk through the gates just like that, leaning against each other.
It’s such a cruel twist of the knife to think that that’s how they were before. We’ve only really seen Vincent’s one-on-one dynamic with Ava, Mary, and Beatrice, but this ease, this familiarity with Lilith is something completely different. Given her family’s history with the OCS and her claim that she’s trained harder than anyone else, she was probably one of the closest to him.
Their embrace is that of a father and daughter. This was someone she could laugh with, lean on, confide in. Someone she trusted to take care of her. Now it’s just a part she plays on paper so that she can get her real family back.
#analysis and similar#exercises in observation#[beatrice voice] there's always more#also i wrote this a little dazed with sleep and in bursts between dishes in a meal so i apologise for any inconsistencies
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understand - levi x f. reader
summary: After finding that you disobeyed his rules, Levi realizes that he might have to help you understand a bit more of who actually has control.
warnings: light smut, yandere themes, PHYSICAL ABUSE, violence, dubcon, obsessive behavior, abusive language/swearing, some ooc content
word count: ~4k
You hurriedly walked through the musty hallway, heavy boots clinking against the stony floors of the base. You continued rushing to your room, head whipping furiously from side to side as you tried to gauge your surroundings. You knew he was coming for you- in fact, you could feel him. You could feel his burning determination from a few rooms away, not to mention the pure fury he must be feeling for you. You were no stranger to Levi’s punishments, and you certainly were not looking forward to the inevitable discipline that awaited you today. Discipline. The term was really laughable at this point, as it seemed that his perception of the very concept was skewed, to say the least. You hastily tightened the leather straps on your legs, readjusting your jacket as you skidded through the dimly lit corridors. You heard a few calls echoing through the hallways, and you could faintly make out your name amongst the string of words that the person was saying. You panicked as you realized who was yelling out, using every inch of strength left in your body as you broke into a full sprint. However, you soon realized that this was a mistake, as your heavy footfalls had just revealed your location to the very man you were trying to evade.
“L/n, get the FUCK back here!” He was getting closer. You willed your already sore body to move faster, your legs aching with every step that you took.
‘Just.. a bit...further....the dorms are up ahead, just keep running, just a bi-‘ Your thoughts came to an abrupt halt as you felt a large force slamming into your back, sending you tumbling to the cold floors of the corridor. Your chin hit the stones with a great force, causing your entire skull to shake a bit. You felt a drop of blood make its way down your neck, presumably from your chin. Still, despite the sheer futility of the situation, you tried to push yourself up from your sprawled out position of the ground, only to be pushed back down again by a heavy boot slamming down against the back of your rib cage.
“No, Levi, pl-“
“That’s Captain to you L/n,” he said, spitting out your name as though it were a slur of sorts. He kicked you roughly in the side with his steel-toed shoe, urging you to turn over onto your back. You did as he wished, the pain searing through your exhausted body as you did so. You looked up, immediately regretting your decision to do so, as the pure rage hidden behind his usually passive eyes was enough to make you fear for your life. You quickly averted your e/c irises from Levi’s own grey hues, biting your bottom lip out of nervousness.
“Hey!” You heard an aggressive, yet still somehow monotonous shout, as well as the feeling of his foot clamping down on your chest yet again, this time accompanied by a whimper from you as your body convulsed at the amount of force he put into his step. “You look at me when I’m talking to you, do you hear me?” He said, receiving nothing more than a small tremble from you. Visibly dissatisfied with your lack of a response, he pressed down harder on your chest, eliciting yet another whimper from you.
“Y-yes, Captain,” you managed to stutter out, your voice meek and frightened. His eyes narrowed as he removed his foot from your chest.
“Get up,” he said, his tone intense and impatient. You nodded hesitantly, pushing yourself off of the ground, or, at least, attempting to. After a few seconds of trying to force yourself off of the stony tile, you felt a rough hand grasp your hair, pulling you up from the ground. Your steps faltered, only resulting in another sharp tug on your hair from Levi. “Hurry up,” he said under his breath. “Fucking slut.”
He continued like this for a while, tugging you along towards his chambers, much to your terror. You began to struggle against him as he took his keys out from his pocket, slotting the rusted key into his door handle. You mumbled a bit under your breath, but your frantic ramblings fell on deaf ears. Soon enough, his door was opened, and you were unceremoniously thrown inside of his room. You heard your only means of escape slamming behind you, a resounding thud echoing through the young captain’s quarters.
“I gave you one task,” he growled. “One..simple..FUCKING JOB.” You could tell that he was desperately trying not to lose his cool, if only for his own personal satisfaction. From the years of time that you had spent with the man, you had grown accustomed to his odd, sadistic way of drawing things out for way, way longer than they needed to be, well, drawn out for. It was sick.
“I give you one thing to do. I tell you to stay inside. Within the confines of the base. All you had to do was just sit pretty in your room, the room that I so lovingly cleared and made nice for you.” The way he spat out the word “cleared” made you more nervous than you could tell, but you supposed that wasn’t anything to be concerned about right now. After all, when Levi is mad, it's a much larger problem than anything else that you might have an issue with. In times where he was upset, or really at all times, you found it easier to just not question him. He continued to shout at you, his words growing incoherent as you brushed your fingers against your face, digits catching on the crimson liquid that had dribbled down from your nose and onto your chin. As you tried to clear your foggy mind his voice rang back through your head, his tone now hostile, even bordering on animalistic as he yelled down at you. “Little whore, are you deaf? SAY SOMETHING! When I talk to you, you respond, got it?” He said, kicking you in the thigh to punctuate his sentence. You turned around, hesitantly tilting your tear-stained face at the man above you. Gulping down your pride, you decided to tell him what you thought he would like to hear.
“I-I’m sorry, I just wasn’t thinking, and everything just felt like so much, I had to get away, I had to go outside, I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t take it anymor-“
“You couldn’t take it anymore?” Levi mocked, bending down slightly. “You couldn’t fucking take it anymore? Oh L/n, you can take so, so much more than anything I’ve already done to you. You work for me, remember? You belong to me. You will do as I say, and L/n, you know what happens when you disobey me.”
Your eyes widened at his words as you began to back away from him, hands grating against the splintering hardwood beneath you. “No, Levi, please, no no no please I’ll do anything, please,” He just chuckled lightly in response to your pleading, simply grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you up from your spot on the floor. He brought you close to him, so close that your hips were flush against his.
“You need to learn that when I say it’s too much, it’s too much. You don’t have the privilege of deciding things like this. You haven’t earned the right,” he whispered, his hot breath brushing up against your ear.
Suddenly, he gripped onto your shoulders, shoving you onto the cot that sat in the corner of his room. At this, you let out a yelp, barely having enough time to brace your fall before you collapsed down on the rough comforter that was tucked neatly into the corners of the bed. As you did so, you came to a terrifying realization. To anyone else it may have been a source of comfort, but to you, well, to put it simply, you were afraid. Levi was acting....calm. Unsettlingly calm. Well, at least compared to his usual persona when angry. Usually at this point, he would’ve stabbed you at least twice in the leg, and would most likely be screaming bloody murder. That was one thing that was different about Levi whenever he was around you. With others, he often put on a cold front, one that was virtually undisturbed, even when he would see his comrades die right before him, or even during battle, an attitude which you at first considered to be nothing short of appalling. However, nothing could compare to the way he acted when he was alone with you. He was always loose with his emotions around you, never holding back on things such as, well, anger. You supposed keeping your emotions bottled up all the time would take some sort of toll on a person, as you were sure it did on Levi, but his anger was horrendous. It was like he was some sort of sadist.
That’s why it was so strange that his anger was not on full display, at least not yet. Hell, you barely had any bruises yet. Instead of his normal unhinged hostility, he was standing over what appeared to be a desk drawer, clutching a slender object. Perfectly calm, even..docile. Against your better judgement, you spoke up.
“L-Levi, are you not upset wi-th me?” You said, cursing yourself for stuttering.
The man in question chuckled a bit before answering. “Upset? Hardly. Angry, however….” He trailed off as he turned to face you, his features as expressionless as always. Your gaze travelled down from his face, and immediately you wished it hadn’t, for you had noticed the small switchblade that Levi was now brandishing, the hilt of the knife illuminated by the dim lighting that was spread throughout the small room. You began to hastily back up, ruffling the cot’s blankets in the process and eventually colliding with the wall behind you. Levi stalked over to the bed, placing the blade on a bedside table before turning to face you.
“Now, what shall I do with you,” he thought aloud, causing your face to further contort into an expression of fear. “You did try to run away, did you not? There ought to be some...repercussions for your behavior.”
“Run away- I- Captain, I’m not your captive or somethi-”
You were caught off by a foreign sound, one that grated against your ears in a way that was definitely not entirely unintentional. It was laughing. Levi.. was laughing. Bouts of hysterics sprung from his mouth, the sound anything but pleasant. He sounded almost..manic. You had never heard him laugh, let alone smile. You honestly don’t think that anyone had. This was not normal, and you had never been so afraid.
“You really don’t understand, do you!” He said as he combed his fingers through his raven locks. “I guess if you can’t figure it out for yourself, I’ll have to help you understand, hm?” He said, his laughter dying down as he came upon the last phrase, his stormy eyes shifting over to the small switchblade that he had taken from the drawer moments before, your own e/c irises following suit. They widened as you realized what he was gazing at, and you were thrown right back into your state of panic as you watched his murderous gaze linger on the blade.
“Levi, please, I’ll do anything,” your eyes flickered back up to his face, pleading with him as the image of the knife flashed through your mind. “Anything, just please don’t hurt me, I promise, I wasn’t in the right state of mind, it was a mistake, if I could go back I woul-“ You were cut off yet again, but this time by a sudden pressure on your arms. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, you were shoved on your back with your wrists pinned beside your head while Levi, who was now straddling your waist, had the upper ground.
“Didn’t I tell you to only speak when prompted?” He said, voice trembling with fury. He leaned down over you, until his lips were within an inch of your ear. “Didn’t I tell you to obey me?” He said. By now, you were shaking. Not out of fear, no, but out of pure, unadulterated anger. You knew that he would count your silence as submission, so you took a deep breath in, preparing to scream.
“Get the FUCK OFF OF ME YOU LITTLE FUCKER!” You yelled out, your voice hoarse and venomous. You struggled against his hold, managing to land a solid kick in his gut and push yourself out from underneath him. You rolled off of the bed, hoping you had enough time to reach the door before he recovered from your blow. However, your fight was in vain, as you soon found yourself once again suffering a kick to the back of your rib cage. You collapsed on the ground, but still you were determined to not give up, and thus you began to claw your way towards the hopefully unlocked door of his dorm.
You heard him tut behind you before grabbing your ankle and dragging you away from your only hope of escape.
“You know, if you keep pulling shit like this things are only going to get worse for you,” he said as he threw you back onto the bed. His voice made you sick. You hated how he was treating you as though you were nothing more than an unruly child, a brat that just needed to be tamed. “Now, stay down like a good girl, hmm?” You let out a shaky breath and began to think about your situation. In the years that you had trained alongside your colleagues outside of the walls, you had always noticed how...different Levi seemed to be, at least compared to everyone else. Despite keeping to himself a good amount, he was driven, more so than anyone else you had ever known. He was determined to rise through the ranks, and oftentimes did whatever he could in order to do so, even if this meant putting himself way before others. Nevertheless, you had looked up to Levi for a good chunk of your career. A part of you still did. Maybe that’s why you took such an interest in the young captain, and why he did the same for you. You had, at one point, allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him. At the time you felt like a burden, but he assured you that you were okay. For a while there, you even felt something a little...deeper.. for the man, but now it seems those feelings have dissipated, just like all of the previous respect he held for you. At least, that’s what you would have thought based on the way he treated you. But the way he was occasionally gentle with you after he had his little tantrums, or how he would look out for you while out on the battlefield kept you coming back for more. That was, until he had forced you to literally keep yourself captive. That was when you had finally snapped and decided to put an end to the maddening thoughts that swarmed your head whenever you so much as saw Levi. You needed to get away, you couldn’t bear to even see his face anymore. It was horrible, yet..rousing. Yes, that’s what it was. Levi’s presence was maddening, Intoxicating. Addictive. He was sadistic, yet careful. Ruthless, but calm. How could he act so vile yet be so alluring?
“Are you even listening to me?” He yelled out, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Little slut, you never listen!” Grabbing a fistful of your hair, he forced you onto your back, staring down at you, face full of contempt. “Now, you’re going to stay put, alright?” He said as he untangled his hand from his locks, instead moving to unbutton your shirt. In what felt like less than a second he had removed your blouse and jacket, revealing your simple white bra. Soon he had taken off your bottoms as well, leaving you fully exposed to the man in front of you. In turn, he pulled off his own shirt, making sure to show off his well toned stomach to you. He looked at you expectantly, eyebrows furrowing after a few seconds of staring at your cowering form. “On your knees,” he spat out in a gruff voice. You swallowed, lip trembling ever so slightly as you lowered yourself onto the cold hardwood beneath you, already bruised knees slamming onto the floor as you fell. Before you knew it, he had taken his throbbing member out of his pants. He already appeared to be aroused, which only made you grimace ever so slightly. The sick bastard was getting off on beating you, a realization which you wished you didn’t have to come to terms with. He really was just a fucking psychopath.
As he drew closer to your face, angling himself so his dick was level with your mouth you began to lean away, turning your jaw slightly to the side as your disgust took over and you could no longer hide your feelings of abhorrance. However, he only kept inching closer, pressing his cock up against your cheek. That was the last straw, and you began to push as hard as you could against his thighs, attempting to free yourself from the disgusting man.
“Stop it, get away from me, I hate you, and you’re dirty and fuc-”
Your protests were cut off by the feeling of a boot colliding with your face, causing you to fall over onto your back. You clutched your nose, whimpering a bit as you pulled your hand away, seeing blood splattered across your fingers.
“You think you can just talk back to me? Huh, little brat?” He grabbed your wrist, once again forcing you onto your knees in front of him. Before you could even think about a possible retort, you felt his shaft against the walls of your mouth. You began to choke as he shoved it further into your mouth, coughing erratically around his cock. You tried to pull away, but before you could he had entangled a palm in your hair, pulling you towards him, resulting in you trying to stabilize yourself against the floor beneath your shaking body. Levi thrust your head back and forth, forcing you to suck his now hard cock. You tried to speak, to tell him to stop or to make him feel some sort of pity for you, but this proved to be impossible, as he was currently balls deep into your mouth. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he let go of your hair, allowing you to fall backwards onto your ass. You groaned out in pain as you hit the floor, but, nevertheless, you were glad that your little session was over. That is, until you saw him reach for the switchblade that had, up until now, been sitting on a small side table by his bed.
“No, no, no Levi please!” You pleaded with him once again, scrambling away from the man before you. You brought your knees into your chest and your arms up, effectively shielding your face. However, your defenses were quickly broken by Levi, and you were soon torn up yet again from your spot on the floor. You were back on the bed in a second, your face squishing into the sheets as Levi kneeled on your back, completely eradicating any hope you had of escaping the ravenette. He unclipped your bra, leaving your back completely bare, which only served to worry you more. Suddenly, you felt a cool, tingly sensation brushing across your back. It almost felt like…
Before you could even register what was happening, a searing pain spread across your form, one that you knew all too well.
“LEV-“ You screamed out, part of you trying to plead with him while the rest of you just wanted a way to alleviate the horrible feeling of a blade carving deep into your back. But, before you could even hope to finish your sentence, you were silenced by a rough hand wrapping around your chin, forcing your mouth closed.
“No, since you can’t seem to get it through your head that you belong to ME, and that you must obey ME, I guess I’ll just have to help you along a bit, perhaps with something more permanent.”
You quivered at his words, a muffled scream escaping your mouth as you felt him stick the knife back into your delicate flesh.
He continued on like this for a while, each of his stabs long, drawn out, and excessively precise. After he was finally certain that the wounds were deep enough, that they would scar over nicely and not ever fade, he shifted himself back to survey his work. Inscribed across your back was the word ‘Levi’, each of the characters in his name leaking blood across your frame. He smiled, wider than he ever had, at the symbol of ownership, the brand which he had placed upon your body. Now you were his, truly his. Future lovers, family members, friends, anyone and everyone could see that you belonged to him, that he owned you.
Your no longer muffled sobs echoed through the room, a pitiful display of weakness that he would usually frown upon. However, he was feeling a little...strange as he heard your choked out whimpers. Almost remorseful. A person such as Levi should not feel pity for anyone, especially not someone who was lower than himself. At least that was what he was taught when he was but a child. Of course this was not the kindest approach to living, nor was it in any way empathetic, but look how far it got him! He was an esteemed captain, someone who started out with nothing and rose through the ranks faster than anyone before him. He shouldn’t change the very thing that made him successful over a little bit of moral turmoil, right? But, somehow, seeing you sprawled out of the bed, blood splattered across your shoulders and tears staining your cheeks, he felt wrong. Everything felt wrong. Levi looked down at your weak form, inhaling sharply before turning towards the bathroom door that sat in the corner of his room. He ruffled through his cabinets before his hand landed on some gauze, which he grasped onto and brought back into the room with him. You were still lying on the bed, form completely vulnerable as he sat down next to you, causing the mattress to sink a bit. He unwrapped some of the gauze, furrowing his brows and eyeing your injuries as he did so. Taking another breath, he began to wrap the bandages gingerly around your frame, watching as you flinched at his touch. After he was satisfied with the way in which he had dressed your wounds, he carefully flipped you onto your back once more, staring into your dilated pupils with such an intensity that you feared he was going to hurt you more than he already had. However, after a few seconds of searching your face, he only leaned down over you, planting a tender kiss against your plush lips.
“Thank you,” He murmured, the movement sending vibrations through your lips. You closed your eyes, melting into the kiss just a little bit more. You knew that you should probably resist, that you should push him away and get as far away from the man as you could, but you just- you couldn’t. He was broken, it was obvious. What kind of person would you be if you left someone who needed help behind? Although he was a bit selfish, and even sadistic at times, Levi had always looked after those who were ranked lower than him, even going so far as to shield them from serious harm when fighting. And the way he would let his touches linger on you a bit, making sure to make some sort of contact with you whenever possible was...sweet, to you at least. These little reaffirmations, his little spouts of care were enough to make you stay. That combined with the fact that you really weren’t sure what he would do if you ever tried to leave. But that’s the way some relationships were, right? You’ve got the good, and the bad, and the ugly. Some people were just more prone to the last two things, right? You two were fine. It was normal for couples to fight, if one could even consider you and the short man to be a couple. Sure your relationship could be seen as a little more...unconventional to other people, but he was satisfied, and you were fine.
After all, love was supposed to be different for everyone, right?
#levi#levi ackerman#levi x reader#yandere levi x reader#yandere x reader#yandere x you#attack on titan#levi ackerman x reader#yandere x y/n#yandere#aot#x reader#attack on titan x reader#yandere levi#yandere levi ackerman
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So @allmightluver made this FANTASTIC analysis into All Might’s character [Here] and how the current Manga arc (chapters ~300-305) really shows how he’s going through it, and, if you have the time to read it, I by all means am begging you to go read and reblog that post instead. But, for my own small-brained sake, I asked for their permission to create an abbreviated version of their post (which is still “long,” but it’s not a whole fanfic’s length long. It’s brilliant as it is! I am just weak).
This literally is just a rephrased edition of a much larger, more in-depth piece; it’s the equivalent of reading a book’s synopsis over the book itself, so GO. READ IT.
But, to those that are still here, this is a Thing about All Might. Again, all of this is just rephrased from @allmightluver‘s [original post]; I kept most of the original context; maybe I’ll do a follow-up reblog with my own thoughts.
From as early as Toshinori’s childhood, to as late as his young teenage years, literally all he ever wanted was to be a hero people could see and know, “Everything is going to turn out okay, no matter how bad the situation is.” Many other heroes of the time, and even into current day BNHA, generally had other reasons for pursuing the line of work, but not him. There was no yearning for fame, lust for money, or a power trip, or anything like that. The only thing he wanted out of being a hero, was to get people to smile. To feel safe.
It’s not common for a 14 year old to come to this conclusion, so it’s pretty safe to assume Toshinori didn’t have the best childhood, whether that’s in his own personal life, or he really just had no filter between his home life, and the world of heroes and villains. Being Quirkless probably played a huge factor in all of that.
But then, what about Izuku? He was Quirkless, right? Here’s the thing: He had All Might to look up to. Toshinori? Nobody. Yes, Izuku had some of the same roadblocks, but All Might inspired him to keep going. There isn’t much to imply that Toshinori had a similar relationship to Nana when they first crossed paths, and hero culture was less of a fashion show than it is currently.
Nana was only able to mentor Toshinori for a few short years before she was brutally murdered, right in front of him, and after that, all he had was Gran Torino, who wasn’t exactly benevolent teacher material-- vicious enough that, even as an older man, Toshinori had severe reservations about speaking with him again; but back then, he was one of the only people that knew the pain he went through in losing Nana, not to mention knowledge of One for All itself. And even then, Torino instructed him to leave the country, once again leaving Toshinori all alone to figure out things for himself until he could confidently return to Japan.
And when he did come back, he had his work cut out for him; there was a lot of work to be done to get society as “surface-level gleaming” as it was under All Might’s thumb, and we see some of that in Vigilantes; staying up for days on end to save people, stop villains, and repair structural damage. He even falls asleep mid-jump at one point, because that’s all the time for rest he can squeeze in. But, by this point, the power of One For All has lead the public, and even other heroes to believe, that All Might has it under control; he doesn’t need help, or at least, nothing more than what they’re already giving. And sure, Endeavor did his part, but that was for him; he just wanted to surpass All Might, not help him.
Now, after his gruesome injury, Toshinori no longer has that ability to save people like he used to. He spent years doing nothing but serving the world, fighting an unseen force that nearly tore him in half, to the point that that evil force should have died, and, even after all of that, thinking he had won, that it was over, Nighteye still promised his untimely demise, before abandoning him for continuing to push himself as his organs threatened to fall out of his body. But, even if AFO was “gone,” there was still a whole other world of villains to deal with; the worst threat was gone, but that didn’t mean the world was safe.
And the only person who could maintain that peace, was All Might. Now, he was under pressure of a ticking clock. So, he kept going.
Which, of course, turned him into what we saw in the beginning of the manga/anime. He has a whole slew of physical issues that are only exacerbated by his lack of self care in favor of pushing himself as hard as he can to keep up his hero work, and because of that, he’s completely ruined his health outside of the All Might persona. The man is practically rotting from the inside out, and, though at first no one knows it’s All Might, people on the street look at this ghastly figure, and they know it. And he knows they know it. Could you imagine the stress he swallows down, knowing, one day, they will find out the truth?
And, let’s not forget how, once Nighteye left, Toshinori was left alone with his paperwork. Eventually, Tsukauchi took over, but that was only because Toshinori let it slip in a moment of deep stress just who he was. But, in the timespan between, it was all up to Toshinori to handle those things, on top of his hero work, and the bare-minimum of whatever he was doing to keep himself alive.
This part, I’m just quoting from @allmightluver‘s post verbatim:
“People blame him for not preparing society for his retirement, that he failed in passing on the torch so to speak, but in reality he did everything possible to keep society from falling for 40 years, doing all within his power just to keep things afloat. He is only one person. One human being, he can’t do everything despite trying to. Society failed All Might.”
Some people in fandom say he sucks as a teacher, but first of all, do you remember who he had as a teacher? I’d say he’s leaps and bounds above Torino. Not to mention, he’s never been a teacher before, and he never planned to pass on OFA again. And just because someone’s a bad teacher (which, he could be worse), doesn’t mean they’re not smart: he’s got a 6/6 intelligence score. Which definitely doesn’t help when Izuku does something to hurt himself with his Quirk that he gave to him. He could very well think it’s his own fault.
And we haven’t even touched up on Dave yet! This man literally staged a hostage situation so he could get his hands on banned technology to try to extend All Might’s time, and hurt so many people in the process. There’s another friend gone.
And then, All For One comes back. A man Toshinori swore he killed. And then he has to fight him in front of the world, having his weakness exposed, and then being told this villain is grooming Nana’s grandson-- someone Toshinori failed to save, didn’t even know needed saving, because he didn’t know the kid existed. And he doesn’t get time to process that; he has to pretend he’s fine, even while he’s shown in this failing human form to the world, to stop AFO once more at great personal cost.
And then, OFA leaves him.
And then he has to deal the the ordeal of being human while Bakugo blames himself for it, while Nighteye dies and confesses he’s happy after all these years to see him on his last words, while watching Endeavor struggle with one Nomu on live television, while watching Bakugo almost take over the burden of carrying OFA, and, despite all of these horrible things occurring... he still confesses to his acquaintance, Aizawa, that he’s “decided to live.” Like it’s another burden to take on. How can this man not be horribly suffering deep down inside? We don’t see the extent of it, because he trained for so long to keep it buried deep down, and it’s harder as Toshinori than it was as All Might, but he’s still got severe trauma and chronic physical conditions that will last the rest of his life. And, yes, people made him promise to live, but only he “decided” he would do so.
And then, he does research into the OFA holders, and finds a gruesome secret. He could have sealed Izuku’s fate to an early grave, not just because of the nature of hero work, but because OFA users have what seems to be a natural predisposition to die early (due to those who previously had quirks being given OFA having their lifespan shortened because of it; Toshinori doesn’t know the full truth yet).
And pretty much right after he finds out that information, the world implodes on itself. Villains win a critical fight, and run amok. People are dying. Heroes are quitting. They blame him. The heroes that do remain can barely handle the load. Some even die. AFO escapes prison, Izuku is in critical condition-- everything he worked for for forty years, disintegrates overnight. Everything he did to himself in pursuit of a peaceful society meant nothing. And, he can feel his vestige within One For All, which isn’t a good sign.
Time is running out.
And he may not even die happy.
“People don’t credit All Might enough for everything he’s done. Most don’t realize the sacrifices he’s made. His character is so unbelievably profound and deep, it’s more than just the “I am here!” people focus on. He’s a deeply troubled, layered, complex character. And I can’t find fault within him.”
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Could you ship tbz members with your mutuals? (Seeing this everywhere so I thought why not pass it to you!)
ahh i’ve been seeing this everywhere as well!! i’ve actually done this awhile back but since i’ve gained a lot of new mutuals since then, i’ll just give it a go once more ^^
i may or may not have put too much thought into this oops 🤭
sangyeon + @moondustaeil @aveluant1a
talking to amber feels like i’m talking to a trusted older sister ngl. she's one of the people i’d turn to for an honest opinion or some much needed advice on stuff and i value her insights very much. she's also very mature in their thinking which is what i think sangyeon would appreciate a lot as the leader of a group of 11 (10) other boys who are always constantly on crack.
as for yu, she gives me very gentle and calm vibes seriously. she’s strikes me off as a hard worker from our conversations and she is very dedicated to her writing which i believe sangyeon would love in a person. i can already imagine him just staring at her work, with a look of affection and admiration in his eyes 😆
jacob + @ihearttbz
riane is an absolute angel to talk to and i love our conversations tgt because it’s always so easy to talk to her and i feel like i can tell her a lot of things i normally wouldn’t tell anyone else. she’d pair very well with jacob and just be that couple that everyone loves and adores, the really sweet couple that people just love to hang around with 💞
younghoon + @chaoticdeobi
um was it really going to be anyone else other than bea? XD younghoon as we know is a pretty shy person and bea to me, seems like the opposite of that. in their case, i think the phrase ‘opposite attracts’ is applicable! bea’s enthusiasm and liveliness is something younghoon would definitely find to be very charming, prompting him to come out of his shell very quickly when he’s around her. i believe whatever he lacks, she makes up for it and vice versa
hyunjae + @bobagyu @kpophours
rose is just so random and funny sometimes which is honestly just like hyunjae to a tee, they’re just so like each other in a way! i get the feeling that rose may be a little unsure of herself sometimes ( which she shouldn’t ) and i think hyunjae would be a great fit because he would definitely be able to help her become more confident while she can probably teach him to be a little less tough and be more vulnerable to his own feelings.
anna is an extremely bright and outgoing person from what i can tell from our conversations. i think that would complement well with hyunjae’s loud and larger than life personality and they would a 100% be that couple that everyone just asks to tone it down but secretly love having them around because they’re just so intriguing and fun to have around 💫
juyeon + @jyeonvoir
elsie has these very calm vibes and i’ve mentioned this before but she gives mad older sister vibes as well. she’s gentle and soft, very much like juyeon and ngl i may be just a little intimidated by her at first but after getting to know her, she’s actually super friendly and nice! she and juyeon would make a lovely couple and i can totally imagining them just chilling on a rainy night, watching Netflix while he wraps his arms around her in a warm embrace.
kevin + @2hyunjae @mae-gi-writes
luna imo is pretty quiet for the most part but once you talk to her, she’s actually pretty fun to talk to! she’s also artistically inclined ( also have you seen her calligraphy skills? they’re insanely good omf ) which i think kevin would appreciate a lot as an artist himself! i feel like he can bring her out of her shell and when he does, he’d just be enchanted by her lovely personality and did i just write a fluffy fic prompt?? o.o
mae is JUST. SO. CUTE. my biggest kevin stan out there, you would be a great match for kevin i just know it. your enthusiasm and your meme vibes would complement kevin perfectly! she’s incredibly supportive and lively which is definitely something i think kevin would look out for in a partner. i can 100% see him with someone who’s just like mae in the future 💓
chanhee + @tidalstorm
something about ros to me screams vogue and classiness and when i think of her, i feel like she’s super bougie? maybe im wrong but that’s how i feel! i get the same vibe around chanhee as well and her really cute personality i feel will mesh well with chanhee’s seemingly harder personality? they’re just very alike to me in terms of vibes!
changmin + @fluffytbz @sankyeom
having talked to rosie, i can tell you that she’s one of the easiest people i’ve talked to on tumblr so far. she’s also such a sweet person and her vibes are really similar to changmin’s come to think of it? lovable but with a tiny hint of shyness? that’s changmin and rosie! i know we always see changmin smiling since that boy basically exudes happiness but i feel like there’s got to be a special kind of smile, the soft kind that speaks volumes of his feelings that he reserves for those he loves and i feel like that person could be rosie. does that make sense?
talking about belle is like talking about a role model to me >< i still fangirl sometimes but that’s beside the point. belle has such warm vibes that changmin would have loved! i feel like he’s not someone who likes to make his feelings know and he’d rather just be happy in front of the camera all the time but i think with belle, he would definitely be able to let his guard down around her. there’s just something about her that wants to make ppl trust her instantly 😋
haknyeon + @atbzkingdom
dee is an absolute sweetheart which is just what hak needs. she can be level headed and mature when the situation calls for it but she can also have fun and be wild which i think hak would appreciate a lot in a partner! he’s been through a lot so i feel he may need someone who he can feel comfortable around to tell his secrets to and since dee is trustworthy like that, he’d feel at ease around her 😌
hyunjoon + @tbzwurld
ok i’ll be honest. i was kind of intimidated by bee when i first started talking to her. there’s something about her that just makes her whole vibe so powerful and just radiate such dominant energy ( not in that way ) but yes, she just seems so cool to me and the vibes she gives off to me is exactly the vibes hyunjoon gives me as well. once you get to know her though, she’s actually so sweet?? and kind?? and amazing?? idk why but to me, she’s what i think would be hyunjoon’s ideal type ✨
sunwoo + @minfuwa @jopping-to-my-kpop @mjlkau
although i haven’t rly talked much to iris ( but i really want to >< iris can we be friends pls ) iris has this sort of charm that i can’t quite put my finger on. it’s a certain type of charm that i associate with sunwoo? like there’s a certain appeal which they both have in common! from our very little interaction ( hopefully we can change that ), i get that she has a vibrant personality that would make everyone just love to flock to her and befriend her. ngl when i think of sunwoo, i think of her sometimes! maybe this is a signal from the universe idk 👀
yo ok emma is just like super cool ok? idc what tf you have to say, she’s cooler than you and me and everyone else combined. her swag is just out of this world and i think her effortlessly cool persona is something that sunwoo would just be completely enthralled by. she's also a very reliable friend who i am so glad to have gotten to know bc hell, even i’m attracted to her personality so how can sunwoo not be? actually, sunwoo would love her personality! they both exude such badass but soft vibes it’s almost unreal 💙
anie has a very surprising personality imo! my first impression of her was really cute and sweet so imagine my surprise when she reveals that darker side of her >< i really like the duality though ngl and i think sunwoo would too! he’d just be so fascinated by her and just want to get to know her more and as he learns more about her, he’s just going to end up falling deep in love without realising until one day he’s like “fuck, i’m an idiot in love without even noticing it.”
eric + @heartyyjeno @lovely-kpop-writer
alesha is just a BIG ball of floof and i love her omg she's such a supportive and caring friend, it’s unreal. her enthusiasm to me, is on par with eric and if he’s the energy boy, she’s the energy girl for sure. they’d be that couple that just goes around hyping everyone up and everyone would just LOVE them! i know i would and if anyone disagrees, i’ll fite you >:(
jasmine my love!!! this girl here is just so incredibly lovely just like her url suggests and honestly, she’s one of the ppl who are most significant in my tumblr journey because her love for people is just so heartwarming? she’s always friendly and kind which is what eric would love in his future partner. jasmine is just so PRECIOUS istg ❣️
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Part 2 Episode 5 Thoughts (1 out of 2)
Okay, before I begin my usual rambly analysis, just wanna say that first scene with Lilith and it focus on that cabinet...I’m sure I have that, or something very similar. But anyway, onwards
Can’t help but notice that when Lilith is sat in the chair, chatting to Stolas, swigging an enticing glass of whiskey, with the lighting and the way the fire is glowing in the hearth and casting her shadow all around the room, this not only creates the illusion of hell, reminding us of where exactly Lilith truly lives, that for all her time spent living in this cottage, her true home is in Pandemonium, but it also has very old-movie vibes when portraying a ‘devil woman’, all hellish colours and shadows, and we can also go onto the whole ‘shadow self’ idea, and how Lilith’s shadow is larger than her physical body, thus implying she’s much more powerful and ‘larger than life’ than she appears while pretending to be Ms Wardwell.
Also she is talking about this prophecy really openly and loudly with Stolas, fully aware that Adam is in the next room. I get the feeling she’s either totally forgotten about him being there, or her time at Baxter High and in Greendale has convinced her that humans never realise what’s really going on even if it bit them on the nose, so she’s just not being careful at all.
‘Just as Sabrina performed an exorcism and a resurrection in perversion of the Nazarene’s miracles, she must now bring down the temple’ Some nice exposition there. And that is exactly what it feels like. It might as well be an aside in Macbeth for the way this was written.
Also, Stolas, why are you asking which temple? What other temple is there besides the Church of Night? Get with the program, dude. But then when Lilith says about setting the bricks tumbling and Stolas replies, she genuinely laughs and I would love to know the sassy back and forth that went on between those two....before we discovered he was a spy for Lilith and so even her own familiar couldn’t be trusted.
“I do so love stirring the cauldron”
I think this is one of the truest things about Lilith. She likes stirring things for the sake of stirring them sometimes, with no ulterior motive, she just enjoys seeing the chaos and chain reaction a simple stir can cause. And she genuinely has fun with these sorts of things, where she sets things in motion with a word or a look or an dea. I kind feel this goes back to the beginning, and how she essentially ‘stirred the cauldron’ in question God and Adam and defying him, and so comes from her desire to overturn the status quo which is quite intrinsic to who she is. No doubt, within reason, she stirs shit up in Hell too, and it wouldn’t take much for those court members to turn on each other.
When Adam comes in and says ‘Mary’, Lilith stops mid drink and keeps her glass at her mouth as she looks at him, which I think does slightly imply she had forgotten just a little bit that he was in the next room. She’s gotten used to monologuing in privacy but now there’s someone there. A mortal someone. Also the fact she’s pretending to be someone called ‘Mary’, a Christian name, stands out even more when a moment ago she was all ‘bring down the temple’ and talking about the Nazarene etc.
“I thought I heard you talking to someone” Yeah ‘thought’.
Lilith throws him her usual polite Principal Wardwell smile she throws everyone when they’re asking questions she wants them to forget about, but the way she says ‘No, Adam, dear, go back to bed, I’ll be in shortly’, shows us how since the night of the Sweethearts Dance, she has definitely decided to keep him around. The risk of him interrupting her or causing to have to be ‘on’ with her Mary persona more often is worth his company apparently, which is very revealing. There’s no romance here, and they’re obviously not sleeping together (confirmed by his jammies being full buttoned plus the info we learned in Part 3 about his relationship with the actual Mary) but there’s already an odd...comfortability, which I don’t think Lilith has even realised, and most likely is telling herself it’s for convenience so people won’t come looking for him, but that hasn’t stopped her before with the pizza boy, the jock, Hawthorne...so how come Adam gets special treatment?
Also he smiles so cutely and nods at the way she says ‘I’ll be in shortly’ and he doesn’t ask her how long, doesn’t ask what she’s doing, he simply accepts that she wants to stay up a little longer on her own. He’s very respectful of her choices and of giving her distance when she wants it, and I think this is a large part about why Lilith didn’t kill him off even before she started to fall for him.
She does roll her eyes a little once he’s gone, and it just makes me think that with him there she has to be Mary all the time. And she’s being the Mary he expects her to be; sweet, polite, concerned about her students etc. It’s only after the development towards the end of this episode, that we then see in the next episode, that while she’s still being ‘Mary’ she’s now behaving more like the Mary she is with Sabrina, which is more like herself.
Also the fact Lilith glamours herself to look like Edward Spellman is not only one of only two times we see Lilith appearing as a man (the second time is as Adam when she goes to Mary for help, and yeah I need to analyse the fuckity fuck out of that moment) because Lilith, understandably, seems to prefer being a woman even when wearing a glamour, but it’s also quite an interesting thing for her to pretend to be, considering Lilith does play, inadvertently, a parental role towards Sabrina quite often, and you could reason even more so in Part 3. And then with the fact Lilith is now carrying Lucifer’s child just as Diana did, well the whole Edward connection is even more observationally interesting.
Also Lilith just popping out of the shadows after removing the glamour and looking down on Sabrina and being all ‘and bring down the temple, she shall’ very clearly shows Lilith obviously thinks they’ll never see her in a million years because they never do; and guess what? She’s right.
Then when Sabrina goes to her for help, and she’s all ‘And your Father’s ghost told you all of this, that Father Blackwood murdered him and your Mother’, it always makes me wonder how much truth was in that. Lilith never does outright lies, she uses the truth to lie as that’s usually more convincing and harder to disapprove, so I imagine there are some elements of truth here. We do know Edward had a manifesto Blackwood wouldn’t have wanted, and now Blackwood has his own manifesto, so there’s motivation, plus we know Faustus disliked a lot of things that Edward wanted for the Churches of Darkness (Equality for witches, for one)...is it possible Blackwood tried to stop them getting the manifesto to the Anti-Pope and the whole thing went wrong? That he was to blame but by accident? Or was it one of his dedicated Judas Society boys that did it? Taking Blackwood’s words as instruction rather than complaint, and then realising what had happened, covered it up to save himself as much as anything? I just feel there are elements of truth here and it does make sense for him to be connected to it all things considered, but I’m just not quite sure which parts are accurate and which are exaggerated.
“Well, I’ll be damned” Usually, they stay stuff in the reverse in this show. ‘Those blessed Pagans’ instead of ‘those cursed Pagans’, and ‘what in the heaven’ instead of ‘what in the hell’, so I feel like ‘I’ll be damned’ should be reversed, like ‘I’ll be blessed’ or something along that line. I feel this was just a slip up on the writers part (much how I hated in the little mermaid on Broadway, they had the sisters say ‘she doesn’t even dip her toe in’ rather than ‘her tail in’; keep with the lexicon, people!) but I would really love if it was because she was spending so much time with Adam and so having to be careful what she says and how she says things, and she’s got into a habit of saying ‘I’ll be damned’ and ‘what the hell’ and didn’t realise she did it with Sabrina.
When Sabrina says ‘you were his secretary, what do you remember about that time?’ you see the slightest flicker in Lilith’s expression where she’s like ‘oh yeah I was his secretary wasn’t I? And...in love with him, I think? But yes secretary...and obviously, I know things’ and so she proceeds to do what she does often with Sabrina; bluffs, bluffs like hell. She even has the same vibe as the exorcism episode where she’s all pacing around, avoiding Sabrina’s eye as she instead looks into the fire, going ‘ah, well, erm, yes, I...’ and buying herself time to come up with a story, trying to remember what she does know about what happens and neatly tying herself into it.
When she finally has a story in mind, she literally swivels around, chin lifted, like yes I am here with a story, I’m good now, let’s start again. Ahem, there was an enquiry. You can literally see that that she has taken that brief hesitant moment to come up with everything she’s about to say now, but the difference from here to exorcism episode, is she now has Sabrina’s full trust, so she doesn’t have to go so crazy and elaborate and all over the place with her story. She keeps it short and simple and it’s safe and convincing.
“An inquiry, immediately after the crash, the very definition of a whitewash”; definitely happened, therefore she starts with the truth, an indisputable fact, but she delivers it with emotion, reminding Sabrina subtly ‘yes I love him too and the whitewash of it all hurt’ and obviously that makes her story not just believable but sympathetic; she and Sabrina both want justice for Edward, don’t they?
“You know who ordered it and reviewed it’s findings of course?” Again, easy fact to know and prove, so we can definitely assume Blackwood was in charge, and it would make sense since he became High Priest in Edward’s place.
But then Sabrina starts asking legit questions such as why did Blackwood want to kill her parents, was it purely for ambition, what work was she trying to stop and Lilith now has to move into the manipulation part of the story, bending the truth, telling it in a way as to make it work in her favour.
“Your Mother and Father were bound for Rome, well more accurately the Vatican necropolis beneath Rome, he was to meet with the Anti-Pope and deliver his manifesto, a bold doctrine to reform the church of night” I’m guessing this is all true, unless Lilith went to the lengths of shoving Edward’s manifesto into the bottom of the ocean, this all seems correct, but this would have been information easily researched, and no doubt the reason Hilda and Zelda don’t talk about it, as it’s the idea that maybe someone in the church wanted him dead for his manifesto and they can’t face the idea of that. So they always insist it’s an accident.
“A traditionalist like Blackwood would do anything to stop Edward from presenting it to the Anti-Pope” Now this is the bit which is more theory than fact, but note how she doesn’t state it as fact, it’s all ‘well he is a traditionalist’ which is very true, so she lets Sabrina fill in the gaps there, she doesn’t commit to the theory, only suggests it. Stirring the cauldron. But, considering how vehemently Blackwood tries to stop Sabrina presenting the manifesto and his wide-eyed look when he sees it, and how he freaking KILLS the Anti-Pope to stop it all, suggests Lilith might have hit the nail on the head. Whether it was Blackwood himself or, as I said above, one of his boys taking it upon himself to do it and Blackwood covered it up, I think we can safely presume he was involved somehow.
“What was in the manifesto? You must have kept a copy” Sabrina says and you would think, as his secretary. Mary would indeed have a copy. But Lilith knows this is the one bit she can’t bullshit, because if Sabrina gets to the manifesto what she claims was in it could be easily disproven, so Lilith doesn’t even make an attempt, she simply she says no there was only one, but when she says ‘somewhere at the bottom of the ocean’ she yet again plays the hurt and sad card, that subtle reminder that she cared about Edward too, it all encourages Sabrina to share with her, to trust her, to believe they’re in this together.
“Well, then your parents would not have died in vain” That was the money phrase right there. That’s the one that Lilith knows will push Sabrina into action, the idea that not only have her parents been murdered, but that their attempts were lost and all for nothing, directly appeals to her sense of family loyalty and her ‘I must do what’s right no matter the cost’ vibe. Lilith’s smile is almost smug but she manages to hold it back, because she’s probably thinking ‘Getting Sabrina to take on Blackwood and avenge her Father to bring down the temple is literally the easiest task ever. I’m done and it’s not even lunch’.
Also, later on when Adam asks about Sabrina, that tells us he was in the house when Sabrina was there. Did she meet him? I mean she must have seen him at the dance but did she actually meet him here? Did she realise he was a mortal and so keep quiet, but then think to herself that Ms Wardwell is even more someone she can trust, because she wants a life with mortals just as Sabrina does? Also she told Sabrina the reason she was excommunicated for wanting to marry a mortal; does she think Adam is that mortal? Or that it was so long ago that that mortal has died and Adam is new? Why could we not have had a scene where Adam walked in on Lilith and Sabrina and awkwardness ensued??
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Keep Your Friends Close (And Your Family as Far Away as Possible)
(My contribution to Kitsunegeddon 2019)
Summary:
“Relatives are the worst friends, said the fox as the dogs took after him.” – Danish Proverb
Long lost relatives, yokai politics, magical turf wars… or just another day in Ichigo’s messed up life. He should never have taken up playing the shamisen.
Chapter 2: Strange Things Are Afoot at the Circle K(urosaki)
“Tadaima!” Ichigo called out as he dropped his wet gear in the genkan.
“Okaeri!” Yuzu stuck her head around the corner to the living room with a smile. “Ichi-nii! I was about to sit down to watch the newest episode of Princess Jellyfish. You want to watch it with me? I made popcorn.”
“Maybe next time. Where’s Karin?”
Yuzu made a face. “She’s still at soccer practice. Her coach wasn’t happy with their ‘work ethic’ during the last game, so they’re doing extra drills.”
“I thought they won?” Ichigo frowned and Yuzu shrugged.
“Apparently winning isn’t everything. Who knew?”
Ichigo shrugged back. “The world is full of mysteries.”
They stood like that for a second and then broke up laughing. Kurosakis would take winning over mysteries any day.
“So, you want to tell me why you’re all wet, or should I chalk it up to another one of the world’s mysteries?
Ichigo snorted. “Nothing that exciting. I was practicing my shamisen in the park and got caught in a sun shower. It wasn’t too bad, though. I managed keep the strings dry, and the breeze on the walk home helped.”
Yuzu smiled. “Oooh! I love kitsune no yomeiri. There’s something magical about that edge where two worlds mix. Much prettier than the gate to Hell, although I can’t remember that as well as I’d like. Still, it’s probably better this way. Fewer nightmares.”
Ichigo stared at her for a moment, surprised by her matter-of-fact attitude about being kidnapped and taken to Hell, but then this was Yuzu. Anyway, he’d prefer she never have nightmares at all. A faulty memory seemed a small price to pay.
“It’s strange that you mention weddings,” he pulled his thoughts back to the present. “I met someone while I was at the park. Nice older guy, but it was so weird. He said he was there for his granddaughter’s wedding, but when I came out of the little clearing where I’d been playing there wasn’t anyone there. Plus, to top it off, he said he recognized me, sort of. Said we were distant relatives through Mom’s side of the family. I didn’t even know Mom had relatives outside of Ishida’s family.”
Yuzu opened her mouth and Ichigo raised a hand to cut her off. “I did! I invited them to the house as soon as he told me. He said they couldn’t come because of the wedding.”
Disappointment painted his sister’s face as he’d expected. “He did say he’d see me again soon, so I promise, if I do see him around, I’ll make sure to bring him to meet you and Karin, okay?”
Yuzu nodded gratefully and gave a half-smile. “How cool is that, though, that he knew Mom?” She looked over to where the poster hung on the wall, their mom’s happy face looking over them larger than life. “It would be nice to talk to someone who knew her so we can get to hear something other than Dad’s crazy stories. I mean, I have so many questions, you know?”
Ichigo knew.
“He said that it was a big family, so who knows! Maybe there will be cousins in the area that you can make friends with.” Ichigo stuck his hands in his pockets, fighting off the urge to give his little sister a hug, and bumped against the little stone that Hakuzosu had given him. “Oh and look at this!” He pulled it out and held it out, a shiny distraction from too many feelings. “He gave me this, too!”
Yuzu looked at the ball rolling in his palm. “Uh, Ichigo?” She stepped forward and picked the almost-pearl up gingerly. “You say he gave you this?”
Ichigo shrugged a little awkwardly. “Well, he showed up talking about the wedding and how I’d basically crashed the party with my shamisen playing.”
Yuzu gave him a sympathetic cringe and he nodded. “Yeah, I know, but he was cool about it. He said that I’d given his granddaughter a gift. It was really nice, actually, and then we were just standing there talking, and he pointed at that on the ground by my feet.” He indicated the ball. “Hakuzosu-san thought I’d dropped it. But I’ve never seen it before, and I told him so. It was pretty, though. When I picked it up it just felt…? Nice, you know?”
The surface shimmered under Yuzu’s fingers, and Ichigo couldn’t help feeling like he wanted to take it back.
Something in her face told him he was missing something important.
“Ichigo,” she spoke, her voice hesitant, “you know that Dad gave me and Karin Mom’s jewelry box, right?”
The jewelry box was one of their most prized possessions, filled with hairpins and little bits of jewelry that Isshin had thought safe enough for the twins to keep, and when Ichigo nodded Yuzu let out a little sigh.
“Come with me,” she said, heading towards the room she and Karin shared, “I need to show you something.”
***
“And then she pulled out this one!” Ichigo held up a second shiny sphere. “She says it was in the jewelry box after Mom died.”
The green-striped hat covered even more of Kisuke’s face than usual and the band of shadow it cast was heavy enough that his eyes were simply a suggestion of movement in the darkness. Ichigo hated that hat.
He’d been hesitant to come in the first place, and now he wished he hadn’t. Trying to explain the weird maybe-relative that looked like Ichimaru Gin was bad enough, but Hey, look at this marble, isn’t it cool? Apparently, Mom had one just like it and the weird guy told me you’d want to see it made him sound crazy. Or desperate. Or both.
Kisuke reached out and touched the glowing orb on the table between them and Ichigo imagined he could almost feel the contact.
“I wondered about this, once upon a time,” he said, gently rolling the ball back and forth with only the tip of his finger, “but your mother was very good at keeping her secrets.” Kisuke peered out at him from the shadows and Ichigo realized there was a wariness there that he’d never seen aimed at him before. “Very good.”
Ichigo couldn’t argue with that; his Quincy heritage was still a mystery to him in many ways. He could only think that Masaki would have explained things to him if she’d had time. That reminded him…
“Hakuzosu wasn’t a Quincy.” Ichigo picked up his tea and tried to remember exactly what the old man had said. “I was wearing a thumb guard Ishida made for me, and as you can imagine, it’s blue and covered in little white crosses. So, when Hakuzosu started talking about Mom and how she’d upset the elders when she married Isshin, I kind of indicated the crosses and he said No, boy, not those elders.”
Kisuke nodded, apparently unsurprised. Ichigo wondered if he practiced that look in the mirror so that no one ever thought he was out of his depth, or if he’d simply seen so much that nothing fazed him anymore.
Or maybe he already knew about Hakuzosu and had been expecting the meeting. That would explain why Hakuzosu knew about Urahara and the shōten.
“Ever since Ichimaru’s look-alike showed up this morning, I’ve felt like I’ve been missing something. Is this another weird Soul Society thing. You’re acting like it all means something significant, so why don’t you just come out and tell me? Who was the guy, and why am I being set-up this time? Is Mom’s marble some weird Quincy weapon that Kyouraku has decided has to come back under lock and key or something?”
Gray eyes snapped up to his. Well, that was clearly a vote for Kisuke’s practicing in the mirror because that look was proof that something fazed him.
“For once, Kurosaki-kun, any machinations occurring have nothing to do with Soul Society. Not that I blame you for jumping to that conclusion.”
The hint of frost in his tone implied the opposite. The blond didn’t like the fact that Ichigo assumed he was being manipulated again. The question was: did he dislike the assumption because it meant Ichigo was becoming harder to use, or because he didn’t like the idea of people using him at all?
It was probably a combination of the two. Why be simple when you can be Kisuke?
“Let me see if I can translate the Urahara-ese. You believe that there are machinations in the works, but you’ve eliminated Soul Society involvement, either because you’re already involved and you know they aren’t because you haven’t included them, or the little line between your eyebrows means that you’re miffed that someone else is running a scam on me without inviting you. Since the Ichimur-alike pointed me in your direction, you clearly know something useful either way, and that means you’re my most likely source of information.” Ichigo leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “So, spill.”
“Don’t forget the third option, Kurosaki-kun.” Kisuke’s voice dropped, heavy with suggestion and just a hint of threat, as he lowered his chin and hid in the darker shadows his hat cast.
He was such a drama queen.
“You mean the possibility that you’re lying to me about Soul Society being involved?” Ichigo rolled his eyes. “No. You may make me work for the truth, but you don’t lie to me anymore.” He shook his head in dismissal. “You said they weren’t involved, so they’re not involved.”
The certainty in his tone triggered an almost imperceptible response in Urahara and Ichigo couldn’t keep the satisfaction from his face. Honestly, he didn’t try very hard and the faint smile he got in response was worth it.
“I see I’m going to have to work harder on my inscrutability.” Kisuke shifted slightly, the dark and dangerous persona falling away from him like scales as it was no longer necessary, his focus shifting back on the twin spheres. “But, for what it’s worth, your summary is correct, and, again for what it’s worth, this mystery isn’t a creation of mine.”
They sat like that for a few moments until Ichigo got tired of waiting.
“Well, then, whose is it?”
Kisuke lifted Masaki’s sphere and held it up in the light. It seemed to glow from within.
“Have you ever heard of hoshi no tama?” he asked, sounding almost sing-song as he turned the little ball this way and that.
“Star balls? Like belong to kitsune?” Ichigo stopped as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Surely Kisuke couldn’t mean….
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He looked down at the second, egg-sized stone. Was it bigger than it was before? “Wait. Did mine grow?”
Kisuke placed Masaki’s sphere back on the table gently. They were definitely not the same size anymore, and the larger one, Ichigo’s, now pulsed with a faint light.
Hoshi no tama. It couldn’t be.
“Yoruichi always said there was something a little different about you, Kurosaki-kun.”
Ichigo snorted. “You mean other than being a human-Shinigami-Quincy-hollow hybrid?”
Kisuke didn’t appreciate his humor. “Precisely. Perhaps she could tell because of her ties to bakeneko.”
Amber eyes shot wide and the blond laughed. “You didn’t think the cat-shape-shifting thing was something any Shinigami could do, did you? No. Our Shihōin Princess has yokai blood, and you, it seems, may as well.”
Yokai blood didn’t sound good. It didn’t sound good at all, but Ichigo couldn’t help but remember the stories that Masaki used to tell about wolf-like ōkami that protected little boys who kept adzuki beans and salt in their pockets as treats, and dangerous kappas who could only be defeated by clever boys who remembered to bow as deeply as possible so the monsters would spill the spirit water from the lilypad bowls they carried on their head and lose their powers. She told him about crow-like tengu who would punish the vain but could be called upon to help lost children find their way home, and tanuki who looked so jolly but would trick unwary people into parting with their food and wine with piles of money that turned out to be leaves come morning.
“Mom used to tell me stories.” He weighed his words, almost afraid to voice them but knowing that he must. “But they were just bedtime stories, Kisuke. Fairy tales. Nothing more.”
Kisuke looked at him, gray eyes bright and focused, and Ichigo could feel a flush creeping along his skin. Of course, now he was interesting enough to pay attention to, but for all the wrong reasons. Again.
“Don’t give me that look,” he snapped, and the blond blinked, slowly.
“What look is that, Kurosaki-kun?”
Ichigo counted to ten. Twice. He didn’t believe that Kisuke was nearly as oblivious as he pretended, but if he insisted, the redhead would play along.
“The ‘oh look, a new experiment’ look. It reminds me of Kurotsuchi-taicho, and trust me, you wouldn’t look nearly as good in that make-up.”
Thin pink lips quirked into a sly smile, and Kisuke chuckled. “I might surprise you, Kurosaki-kun. Who do you think brought Mayuri-san his supplies when he was still in the Maggot’s Nest? Plus, I ran more than my fair share of honey-pot missions for the Onmitsukido. A steady hand with an eyeliner pencil and a good lipstick go a long way.”
The flirtatious tone fell flat, and Ichigo sighed, more frustrated than flustered for once. How did they always end up like this—snarking at each other but never actually saying anything? It was exhausting, and he didn’t have the patience for it today.
“You keep telling yourself that, Hat-and-clogs.” Ichigo picked up the two spheres and held them, one in each hand, between them. “Right now, I’m more concerned about these.”
Kisuke’s teasing smile faded. “Yoruichi might be able to give us some insight, and there’s a tanuki that visits the shōten occasionally that I could…”
“A tanuki?” Ichigo practically exploded. “You can’t actually mean a real tanuki? With the huge…?” he spread his fingers, unable to finish the thought.
“Testicles?” Kisuke finished the question for him, smirk back in full force. “I haven’t asked to see them, but yes I would assume so. I’ve done more than a few favors for him over the past hundred years, so he owes me, but tanuki and kitsune don’t get along very well from what I can tell.”
Ichigo frowned.
“It shouldn’t be a problem as long as Hakuzosu isn’t here, though, right?” There wasn’t another kitsune in the equation.
Kisuke took the larger sphere from his fingers and moved it slowly, watching the glimmer brighten the closer it got to Ichigo’s hand, “Well, that depends.”
Ichigo allowed the blond to drop the now glowing ball into his palm and was surprised by the rush of pleasure he got from holding it. There was something so right about it, and that was definitely not right. “Depends on what?”
The older man watched him for a long moment, a hint of fascination and curiosity and maybe even a little fear in his eyes, and Ichigo couldn’t look away, wanting nothing more than to have Kisuke look at him forever, the feelings of frustration washed away by a tide of something much more potent. His breath caught in his throat and his heart beat faster as he silently cursed his stupid attraction. This was so not the time.
“It depends on how much kitsune blood you’ve got flowing through your veins, Kurosaki-kun, and how the appearance of your long-lost relative has affected it.”
Ichigo groaned and dropped his hands to the tabletop with a thud. “I knew that was what you were going to say.”
The star ball glowed brighter and Ichigo tightened his fist around it.
“Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any more complicated, I have to deal with a freaking yokai. I swear, if Hakuzosu shows up and tries anything I’m going to kick his ass, kitsune or not.”
“Be careful, Kurosaki-kun,” Kisuke was still watching him so closely it made his skin prickle. “You don’t want to get on the wrong side of a yokai. They are far from harmless.”
“Kisuke,” Ichigo said, sitting back up in his chair and looking across at the blond in disbelief, “nothing in my life has ever been harmless, and none of us would have survived if I’d played by the rules. Why should this be any different?”
The blond looked at him with an air of something approaching satisfaction. “Why indeed?”
Once again, he had the full weight of Kisuke’s attention on him, and instead of the butterflies that usually took up residence in his stomach when that happened, he felt a lead weight. He wasn’t a side-show attraction, dammit. Not even for him.
He held out his empty hand and Kisuke dropped the second ball in it.
“So,” Ichigo pulled in a deep breath, “you said you knew someone who might be able to help?”
Kisuke cocked his head to one side, like he was listening to a voice that was only speaking to him, and then nodded in agreement. “Yes. Shibaemon is easy enough to find. I’ll contact Yoruichi and we will track him down and see if we can’t come to an arrangement.” The blond sighed. “Last time the two of them were together they drank all the sake in three bars. Hopefully this time will not break that record.”
Knowing Kisuke he wasn’t nearly as innocent in that story as he pretended. Ichigo wished he’d been there. A tipsy Kisuke was a sight to see.
“Let me know if you need me there. I don’t want to just tag along and have your tanuki friend—fuck, I can’t believe we’re talking about real tanuki.” He forced himself to calm down. “I don’t want to show up and have him upset over some possibly real connection to kitsune.”
Kisuke agreed. “Like I said, he’s nice enough most of the time, but he is a yokai, and they’re… unpredictable.”
Ichigo snorted. “The fact that you think he is unpredictable is the best warning you could give me.”
Suddenly a yawn cracked the redhead’s jaws. He was exhausted.
“I need to head home. Yuzu was already upset enough with me for not managing to drag Hakuzosu back to the house to visit. She’ll kill me if I’m late for dinner.”
Kisuke reached across the table and rested one long, thin finger on Ichigo’s arm. “If I may,” he started, speaking in that casual manner that means listen carefully because something significant is NOT being said, “Kurosaki-kun, it might be best if you kept your new trinket in a… safe place. I’d be happy to provide such a place—Tessai could even put a kidō trap on it to be extra cautious.”
Any other time Ichigo would have taken him up on the offer. Any other time the warmth of that finger would have burned his skin and given him fodder for weeks’ worth of daydreams. Why, then, did the idea of turning his trinket over for someone else’s safe keeping make him feel like he couldn’t catch his breath and like snakes were squirming in his belly?
Ichigo’s fingers tightened inexorably around the supposed star balls and he shoved them deep into his pockets and leaned back in his chair. He’d think about those feelings later. Much, much later.
“Nah, that’s okay. Yuzu will want Mom’s back ASAP, and I’ll just keep the other one with me. No need to put Tessai out over something like this. It’s just a shiny stone.” He gave a careless shrug that fooled neither of them.
Kisuke retreated into the shadow of his hat’s brim. “And if it is more, Kurosaki-kun?”
Ichigo’s fingers were still tightly wrapped around the now egg sized sphere and he gave an almost Gin-like smile.
“Hakuzosu said he’d be around, and if he is a kitsune like you suspect, and this is a hoshi no tama—mine or his—well, it’s probably better if I don’t have to break through a kidō lock to get it if I need it. You know how Tessai hates it when I make a mess of the shop.”
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Ian/BG ABO. A bunch of short introductory headcanons + two properly narrated parts.
It all started with this image . And this . And something along the lines of this .
Imagine BG wearing this kind of sexy garb to work. He's a star fashion designer at the Park’s Fashion House founded by his parents. He’s also his daddy's spoilt baby boy and a huge hoe for all things lacy that hug his omega curves just right.
Meanwhile, Ian is swiftly sweeping through the ranks of the company, rubbing shoulders with all the important people, and practically is a sneeze away from becoming Park Senior’s most trusted associate. Some even speculate that the old man is prepping Ian as future mate for his high-maintenance diva son.
BG is as talented as he’s notorious. Not a week goes by without making him the centerpiece of some juicy scandal concerning his private life. And his risque choice of wardrobe has been picked apart many times over by everyone and their uncle. Only BG apologizes for nothing. Especially for showing off his ass. He knows he’s more than that - he’s worked so damn hard to prove that, too. But here is the rub: he’s gotten so attached to his aggressive sexuality that he finds it hard to divorce from it in his private life. Hence a long spell of shallow flings with no strings attached.
In a way, Ian has fallen victim to BG’s image as well. He comes from a close-knit family with traditional views on romance and love which are dear to his heart. As much as he can’t deny his growing attraction to BG, he believes they want different things from life and as such, might never meant to be.
The question, however, is - can he stay away long enough?
~~~
Jiyeon shows up past midnight. As he often does.
“Got stood up,” he drops non-committal, shrugging off his coat into Ian's hands and brushing past him. “Again.”
Ian, in his pajamas, contemplates the coat with a blank stare. A whiff of citruses snags at his nostrils, snapping him back to reality. He yawns - it’s 2AM for god’s sake, on a weekday.
Jiyeon makes himself comfortable on a leather couch - one of Ian's recent upgrades in his condo - one leg bent under his tushie, while Ian busies himself with making them coffee. An espresso cup, tiny as a thimble, for Jiyeon and a hefty mug for himself.
He moves almost on autopilot, like it has become his routine.
“And it was only our second date,” Jiyeon supplies, cheek sinking into his palm, as he stirs his coffee perched precariously on his lap. He looks impossibly bored. “Am I'm growing old? Unattractive?”
Ian snorts. Makes no effort to hide it, too.
“You’re 25, Ji, not 50.”
Jiyeon glowers at him, lush lips pursed into a tight pout.
“Excuse me? Even at 50, I’m gonna be looking like a total snack,” Jiyeon huffs, taking a sip of his coffee, a silly pinkie to the side and everything.
“I won’t argue with that.”
“You better if you know what’s good for you, alpha,” Jiyeon drawls out the last word with a rasp and a cheeky grin. No trace of the pout from seconds ago.
Swallowed by the cast shadows and enveloped into the sensual lace, he looks like a creature from another realm. Years later, it still manages to throw Ian just a tiny bit off-kilter.
“They’re just intimidated by you, Ji,” he says after a moment. “You need to learn how to give your suiters a breather.”
“This again?” Jiyeon straightens up immediately, his coffee set aside, as he hooks one perfect knee over the other, arms hugging the back of the couch. Where other omegas cover and curl into themselves for protection, he expends his presence ever wider - to throttle.
“See?” he says. “You say that but I don’t get it. Honestly, I think it’s bullshit. Since then are alphas intimidated by sexy ass?”
“It’s not about ass, Ji-”
“Very fine ass,” the omega cuts in, petulant.
Ian sighs, eyes glancing skywards.
“It’s about the way you act. Like you need to trample them, bend them to your will before they do you - you know, not all alphas are self-centered jerks who only need one thing. Some of us do want meaningful relationship.”
He didn't mean to say us, turning it into something personal. Last thing he needs is for Jiyeon to sink his teeth into that, like many times before. Funny enough, like many times before, he does just that.
“Is that why you don’t want to sleep with me?” Jiyeon asks point-blank, eyes boring into Ian.
And that's the kind of discussion Ian has sworn to avoid having so late at night. When his brain is sleep-addled. Besides, there is a small window after his coffee intake during which he can still fall asleep like a baby and he intends to make use of that.
“I’m going back to bed, okay?” he says simply. “You can make use of the guest room, as always.”
If it looks like he's running away, he doesn't care. They've been through this so many times, he doesn't know what else to say without sounding very defensive. And just a touch bitter.
“Wait,” Jiyeon calls after him and there is something in his voice, a sliver of desperation that makes Ian holt, facing the omega warily.
“Just...tell me what I’m doing wrong. Please?”
Suddenly he's too close for comfort, looking up at Ian with his beautiful dark eyes that hold the whole world in them. Ian's world.
“For all the allure that you possess, you’re too brittle, Ji. Like you're going to crack when someone says how beautiful you're and genuinely means it. I understand that opening yourself up to someone could be daunting, but unless you take that risk...you might never find the one.”
“Maybe I’ve already found the one,” Jiyeon says. “Maybe I'm just really bad at telling him how I really feel.”
“You don't mean it, Ji,” Ian says. “You don’t even know what real intimacy is. When was the last time you allowed anyone to scent you?”
“I don’t know? When I was a kid?”
“Your dad doesn’t count.”
Jiyeon frowns, teeth sinking into his bottom lip, as he fails to come up with an answer.
“That’s what I thought.”
“Well, maybe I don’t like it? You let those knotheads scent you and next thing you know they think they own you or something,” Jiyeon says, a tiny scrunch wrinkling up his nose, as he shudders visibly to add to his point.
“Then, there you have it, Ji,” Ian says, resigned. What did he expect really. For Jiyeon to agree with him for a change? Right. “It’s really late, so...”
“I’m not done yet,” Jiyeon interrupts, voice rising in pitch before he trails off, eyes settled elsewhere. He heaves a breath. “I guess...it won’t be too bad if you do that to me.”
The words ring in Ian’s ears as he blinks at him, dumbfounded.
“You want me to scent you?” he asks, throat dry.
Jiyeon meets his eyes, nodding sheepishly. His scent bleeds thicker into the space between them - a clear sign that he’s nervous. Or afraid. Or aroused. It’s hard to tell sometimes with the omegas. It’s even harder with Jiyeon who keeps so many things locked tight and safe inside his gentle soul.
Ian couldn’t possibly turn him away. Even if it kills him a tiny bit to have him so close and out of reach all the same.
“Can we do that on the bed though?” Jiyeon asks and before Ian can object, quickly adds. “I just think that would be more comfortable. That’s all.”
(That’s all, he said.)
“Okay, but no sexy things,” Ian warns. If he is to survive this, some clear-cut boundaries need to be drawn here. “Just scenting.”
If Jiyeon is disappointed, he doesn’t show it. His tentative smile invites a dimple to appear to the side of his mouth.
“No sexy things, got it.”
Ian regrets caving to Jiyeon's will the moment the omega plops down on his bed, all pliant and domestic after a quick shower. Draped in a sweatshirt he borrowed from Ian. It slips prettily down his shoulder and Ian knows, this instant, he's in for a world of pain tonight.
(There is no scouring this image out of his mind now, either.)
“Ji,” Ian asks quietly, hand wrapped around the bend of his elbow. “Is this okay?”
“You don’t have to act like I’m going to break any second, you know?” Jiyeon assures him with a lazy smile, but Ian can sense how tense he is all over. How new this is to him.
A wave of protectiveness rises in him, his instincts urging him to reach out and comfort the omega he thinks of as special. And unlike other times, Ian does just that.
“I know how strong you are, Ji,” he starts, palm gliding down his forearm soothingly. His voice rumbles warmly. “You don't have to prove anything to me. I'm not here to fight you or hurt you. I just want to know you better, the most intimate part of you - your scent.”
Ian nuzzles the inner side of his wrist, where one of the scent glands is located. This is as far as scenting between close friends usually goes. And Ian is perfectly content to leave things there tonight, maintaining some distance between them and his sanity, too.
That is, until Jiyeon opens up his neck and, when Ian doesn't bite (metaphorically), pulls at him with a barely audible whine to hurry him along. Ian succumbs with a sigh, settling down to curl his body along Jiyeon's. His nose finds the smooth curve of his bared shoulder, scenting along it, skin as soft as velvet, before inching his way towards the real treat.
With the scent-enhancers washed off, the omega’s natural scent comes forth, seeping into Ian’s consciousness, rich and honeyed. In contrast to his overpowering persona, it’s gentle - a sweet tinge of citruses and underneath it, the soothing earthy fragrance that is inherently Jiyeon’s. Ian could spend his whole life enveloped in his scent that brings back the yearning that is larger than sexual desire. Like Jiyeon could really be the one for him.
Lost to his emotional state, Ian is slow to notice the slight shift in Jiyeon’s posture as he tilts his head, perhaps even subconscious, so their lips line up in invitation for a perfect kiss. He watches Ian, waiting for the alpha to take the first step - to take what is offered willingly. Ian feels his resolve waver, almost leaning in. Almost.
He closes his eyes, sucking in breath, and moves away.
“Don’t you want to kiss me?” Jiyeon asks quietly, rising on his elbow, the haze in his gaze slowly dissipating to reveal genuine sadness.
“More than anything,” Ian says, candid.
“Then what’s stopping you?”
Ian has been asking himself this question ever since they met, really. Maybe it all boils down to his alpha pride. Deep down he hates the idea of becoming nothing more than one of Jiyeon's flings. That even he won't be able to make Jiyeon open up to him.
“I don't think both of us are ready for it yet.”
“Yet?”
“Let’s just sleep, okay?” Ian says. “You can stay here if you want.”
“Fine.”
Jiyeon lets out a little annoyed puff of breath, aggressively wiggling onto his side in a huff.
“Will you spoon me at least? Or is it too sexy for you, too?”
Ian cracks a smile against himself.
“Yeah, we can do that.”
After a few moments of kicking around and fitting their limbs into place, they settle finally, with Ian’s body curled along Jiyeon’s back. His nose is tucked into his neck and it’s pure bliss. Just this is enough, he thinks.
Jiyeon takes his hand, lacing their fingers together. Little by little, the tension in him dissipates, breath evening out as he falls asleep. And before long, Ian follows him, too.
---
Alphas and omegas have three main clusters of scent glands that are located around their hands, neck and groin. Wrist scenting and occasionally neck scenting is reserved for friends and family. And groin scenting is obviously done between lovers/mates only.
(The idea comes from doggos that smell each other's butts because there are scent glands there. Do with that mental image whatever you want now. Have fun.)
Part two picks up a year later, the day after they mate-marry and stuff. It’s already written, I just need some time to polish things up. Until then.
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Dark Side | [ch. 1]
Patton is hunger.
He’s self aware; he knows what he looks like from the outside. Knows that everyone thinks of him as the sweet one, the innocent dreamer. No one can see how empty he feels inside, how he’d do anything to get rid of the nagging, clawing feeling that he isn’t and never will be enough.
Logan is helpless.
What’s the point of having an above genius level IQ and a scholarship that’ll more than take care of him for the next four years if he can’t protect his family? Time has always been comforting to him, assuring him that ever second will be the same exact length, dividing the universe into neat, even fragments. Now it’s turned against him and he can’t do a thing to stop it from running out.
Roman isn’t real.
Yes, he’s consistently cast in every lead role he applies himself to, yes, they all say he’s brilliant and daring and larger than life. But does any of it mean anything? Does anybody actually care about the person behind the persona? Is there even a person left?
And Virgil? Well, Virgil’s a complete mess.
Plagued with anxiety and panic attacks since before he can remember, the very last thing he wants to do is leave his boring but safe hometown to go to university. But he’s been following Patton around all his life and he’s not about to stop now.
Wordcount: 3.3k
Warnings: Panic attack, nausea
A/N: Welcome to my Sanders sides College AU!!This fic gets pretty dark so I would advise you to proceed with caution and always check the warnings. In other news AHHHH I’M 50K INTO THIS AND IT IS OFFICIALLY THE LONGEST PIECE OF WRITING THAT I HAVE EVER POSTED PUBLICLY even if the other 47k isn’t available yet (rip). I’ll release the playlist as soon as I’m done with it.
|| Read it on AO3 ||
“Virgil, breathe.”
“Can’t,” Virgil pants, and grips the edge of the counter till his knuckles go white. The sky is so bright it’s hurting his eyes, so he closes his eyes and shrinks further into the snack booth.
He’s vaguely aware of Patton coming around and unlocking the door. He wants to tell him to get back on the stand and keep lifeguarding, because he’s not worth this, not worth Patton getting written up, but he knows Patton won’t listen. Even if it means risking his job.
A second later Patton lays a hand on his shoulder, but he flinches away. “Don’t touch me. I just. Just need.”
He takes his hands off the counter and curls them into fists.
“I’m sorry, Virge. Please breathe?”
“It’s not-” Virgil makes a huge effort to take a breath, in through his mouth, and suddenly he’s hyperventilating.
“Hey, hey, easy. Look at me.”
Virgil shakes his head to clear it, tries to focus on Patton.
“Breathe in-Virgil, just try-”
“Trying.”
Virgil sits down heavily on the concrete floor in the corner of the snack booth, fixes his eyes on the ceiling, and breathes in. His throat stutters over the air and he resists the urge to just continue hyperventilating. Patton’s sitting down too, ignoring the stool in front of the counter in favor of sitting on the damp concrete with Virgil.
It takes him a couple of minutes, but he’s able to breathe without getting dizzy again. As soon as he’s able to speak, he says, “Patton, you’re gonna get fired.”
Patton shrugs. “No one’s come in in the past half hour. It’s not like Sam cares. And Felicity’s out there keeping an eye on things.”
“Or sleeping,” Virgil mumbles.
Patton swats his arm gently. “Hush, you. She’s covering for me, isn’t she?”
Virgil shrugs. He’s always gotten the feeling that Felicity doesn’t like him very much. Then again he’s never gotten the feeling that anybody particularly liked him, so Felicity’s pretty much the norm.
Patton stands and offers him a hand up, but Virgil’s still feeling a bit weird about touch and so he gets up himself, glancing guiltily at Patton’s hand. But Patton drops the hand, looking thoroughly unbothered. “What do you say we get out of here?”
“But we’ve still got-”
“Half an hour. Last day, Virge, Felicity doesn’t care.”
“You already asked her?”
“No, but I covered for her last week, she owes me.”
“You think she can run things by herself?”
“Do I think she can watch an empty pool for half an hour? Absolutely.”
Virgil lets out a half laugh and Patton’s face splits into a grin. “There we go. Feeling better kiddo?”
“I’m...three months older than you.”
“Even so.”
“Ugh.”
“Well, are you?”
“A little,” Virgil admits as he follows Patton outside. His hands have stopped shaking, anyway. But it’s been getting worse lately, and he’s worried he’s just going to keep going downhill.
“You wanna talk about what set it off?”
Virgil scrubs a hand over his face, and instead of answering fishes the keys out of his pocket and yells across the pool. “Hey, Felicity!”
Her head jerks up and she catches the keys after he flings them across the deep end. “Virgil!” she complains. “I could’ve dropped those in the water!”
“Do you think you could keep an eye on things for us?” Patton asks, tone coaxing and sweet.
Felicity’s arms uncross from her chest and her demeanor immediately brightens. Everyone likes Patton. “Sure, is something wrong? Do you need help?”
“Nothing really,” Patton tells her. “It’d just be a really nice favor to me. Thanks, Felicity.”
“Of course.” She tucks the keys into her pocket and goes back to staring listlessly at her reflection.
Patton nudges into Virgil’s shoulder as he’s sliding into his flip flops at the gate, nearly causing him to overbalance and fall. “You don’t have to tell me, but I think it might help.”
“Uh. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid.” Virgil hunches his shoulders. “Can I drive?”
“If you’re asking because it’ll give you something constructive to focus on and take your mind off stuff, then yes. If it’s because you’re feeling reckless, then absolutely not.” Patton puts one hand on his hip and Virgil has the sudden urge to laugh at his sternness even though there’s not really anything funny about the situation.
“I’m fine, Dad, it’ll help me calm down.”
Patton chews his lip. “Alright, but we’re pulling over if it gets to be too much.”
“Patton, my house is literally like two minutes away. We could’ve walked.”
“Still.”
“You sound like me,” says Virgil, half smirking as he climbs into the driver’s side seat. “Stop worrying.”
Patton walks around, straps himself in, taps Virgil’s seatbelt. “And you sound like you’re trying to deflect.”
Virgil says nothing as they pull out, nothing as he turns onto the smooth main road of his neighborhood. They’re almost to his house before Patton says, “If you really don’t want to talk about it I’ll shut up.”
“No, it’s…” Virgil grips the wheel a little harder than necessary as they approach his house, anxiety spiking through him again. “Patton, um...I haven’t started packing yet.”
“What?” Patton screeches, and Virgil winces. They’re in his driveway now, but neither of them makes a move to get out of the car. “Sorry, sorry,” he says quickly. “But Virgil...what the heck? Are you okay?”
Virgil shrugs and buries his face in his hands. Both of his arms itch to do something, but the thought of everything he has to do before tomorrow morning at five am makes him want to lie down and never move again.
“Virge?” Patton’s unstrapped and is leaning over him, concerned. “Let’s get you inside, mkay? When was the last time you ate?’
“Not sure,” Virgil mumbles. He can feel himself falling back into panic and shoves his door open, gets out and begins to pace to stave it off.
“C’mon, Virge, stop that. It’s okay.” Patton takes his hand and leads him inside and Virgil’s skin itches again but he doesn’t want to let go of Patton, even if it’s uncomfortable.
Patton taps in the house code and they both slip off their flip flops at the door and walk inside. It’s almost too cold in the house; Virgil gasps as his feet hit the gleamingly white tile. The air conditioner’s made it like ice.
Virgil’s always been a little embarrassed of his house. The ceilings are indulgently high and the whole first floor is impeccable tile and ikea furniture. The kitchen is far too large for a family of three, especially one that usually doesn’t eat together and is more likely to order takeout than not. The staircase looks like an art installation, and his mother keeps the place clean enough that it doesn’t even look lived in.
Truthfully, it’s barely lived in. Virgil’s the only one in the house all the time, and he’s not sure he could call what he does living. The first time Patton slept over he couldn’t stop staring, reverently wandering the house and gazing at the abstract art that Virgil’s mother filled the house with, taking care not to touch anything, even at the age of twelve. Sometimes it felt like staying in a museum, Virgil the only living display. The rare Depresso anxietus.
“Virgil?” Patton squeezes his hand, trying to shake him out of his reverie. “Is there food in the house?”
“Uhh…” Virgil opens the fridge, eyes flickering over the overstocked shelves. “Yeah...yeah, there's food in the house.” He steps aside so Patton can see. “What should we make?”
“Sandwiches,” says Patton, already pulling out the bread. Virgil hops onto the counter to watch. He doesn't feel like making decisions, however small, so he's grateful to Patton for not making him think much. One question at a time. “Do you want pickles?” “Swiss or cheddar?” This or that, yes or no, low energy things. It would probably seem silly to somebody else but right now Virgil is sure that sandwich ingredients, handled indelicately, could probably send him into a spiral of panic.
They eat at the breakfast bar almost in deathly silence. Virgil can see Patton sneaking concerned looks at him but he doesn't volunteer up any information. He feels too guilty.
Tomorrow morning he and Patton are going to pack Virgil's car and make the three hour drive up to Riverpoint University. It should be exciting. What kid wasn't excited the day before move in? Virgil wants to kick himself. Patton is clearly looking forward to it. Riverpoint is Patton's entire dream. He’s going to go off and win a Nobel peace prize for environmental conservation and stage large scale protests and plant new rainforests in South America and photograph penguins in Antarctica. He'll be a reporter for National Geographic or a famous blogger or something, no matter how unlikely it looked. Patton is charismatic and determined and he’ll undoubtedly rise beyond any expectations set for him, Virgil has no doubt of that.
On the other hand, all Virgil wants to do with his future is not have one. He wants to curl up in the back of his closet and be left alone. All his interests are nowhere near as passionate or as deep as Patton's. You can't make a career out of folding sad poetry into paper cranes. Well, maybe Patton could figure out a way to make that work. Patton could save the entire world if he wanted to, Virgil is sure of it.
He’s half smiling into his sandwich now. Maybe all he wants to do with his future is live vicariously through Patton.
That’s kind of the reason why he’s going to RU. He can’t fathom being apart from Patton for even a day. They’d grown up together, elementary through high school, and when they’d gotten older they’d started hanging out on the weekends, every weekend, and some days Patton felt like the only piece of life Virgil was holding onto. So naturally at the midpoint of junior year when nearly every class was interrupted by an office assistant sending someone or other to the counselor’s office to “discuss future careers and higher education”, Virgil panicked. It’s what he did best. What he still does best. Because of course while all Virgil wants is to have the world stand still around him, to sit up in his room and read and pretend that everything outside doesn’t exist, Patton has kept going. Kept moving. Patton wants to do something with his life.
When Patton applied for colleges, Virgil applied for colleges. He wrote cheery, over enthused entrance essays (he always was good at fiction), compared tuition costs (not that it mattered), scoured school websites for information. Patton’s top choice was Virgil’s top choice. Patton’s safety schools were Virgil’s safety schools. When Patton got his acceptance letter to Riverpoint, Virgil had pretended his hadn’t come yet, waited two days, and then pretended to be surprised when his showed up in the mailbox again, taped shut.
He doesn’t want Patton to know that the only reason he’s going to college is because he can’t stand the thought of being without Patton. It’s the most pathetic thing he’s ever done, and he’s starting to regret it.
Before it wasn’t fully real. It was just something he had to do. Get into the same college as Patton, stay with Patton. Right now the full implications of “college” are starting to cloud out the reality of “Patton”.
What was he thinking? He can’t do college! Much less college three hours away with parties and shared bathrooms and classes that are not with Patton and eating by himself and-
Patton’s reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Kiddo?” he says gently. “You okay?”
Something must’ve shown on his face.
“M’fine.” says Virgil, and forces himself to take a deep breath. He takes a bite of his sandwich for something to do and chews slowly.
“We should get started soon,” says Patton. “I don’t want you up too late.”
Virgil nods and stuffs the remainder of his sandwich in his mouth. He collects Patton’s plate, which is already empty-when did that happen?- and put both in the sink.
When they get up to Virgil’s room, he’s scared the sandwich might come right back up again. There are boxes and clothes everywhere, but nothing actually in the boxes. None of his books have been taken down from the shelves either. It actually just looks like Virgil’s normal messy room plus boxes, which is pretty much what it is. He’s been locking his room and telling his mom he’s packing while actually playing Fortnite for weeks now.
Patton must sense his panic, because he leads him over to the bed, makes him sit down, and tells him to close his eyes. Virgil does.
“Not looking at it isn’t going to make it go away,” Virgil mumbles. He can hear Patton shuffling around.
“I know,” says Patton. “Just cleaning things up a bit, kiddo. It’ll take no time to pack. You’ll be fine.”
A couple minutes go by, and Virgil says, “Uh,” and then stops. Patton doesn’t press him, and for once Virgil wishes he would give him a gentle push in the right direction.
But Patton doesn’t push. He waits, and he listens, and sometimes he makes Virgil feel like a wild animal in that he handles him very, very carefully- and like he might get bitten. “Patton?” he says carefully, on an exhale. Like the name got lost on his breath, and he’s not quite sure if he wants to say it.
“Mhm?” the response comes from somewhere over by the window, so Virgil turns his head in that direction.
“I’m...scared.”
“Of what?”
Virgil listens to Patton moving, shifting boxes and the soft thump of clothes.
“College,” says Virgil, and immediately feels stupid.
“Okay…?” says Patton, leaving the word open on the end, as though he’s waiting for Virgil to finish whatever he was saying. Virgil doesn’t want to finish whatever he was saying. “Can I open my eyes now?” he asks plaintively.
“In a minute,” says Patton. “Why are you scared of college?”
“I dunno…” says Virgil, trying not to immediately summon all of his fears just by touching the subject in his mind. He’s unsuccessful. “It’s- it’s not home.”
More shuffling. “I never got the impression that you particularly liked it here,” says Patton conversationally.
“No,” Virgil concedes. “But it’s. Home.” he says again, feeling unable to come up with anything more. “It’s...familiar,” he tries, and it fits. “I don’t like unfamiliar,” he says, finally putting his finger on it.
“Open your eyes,” says Patton, and he does. Patton’s sorted his clothes into two piles, apparently clean and dirty, and all the boxes are stacked inside of each other near the closet. His books are on the floor in neat, even towers.
“Oh,” says Virgil, and smiles. It’s symmetrical. Comforting. Patton smiles back at him. “More doable, hm?”
“Yeah,” says Virgil softly. “I still don’t see how we’re going to get all this done by tomorrow morning. And still sleep.”
“Easy, Virgil. One piece at a time.” He walks over to Virgil’s desk, opens his laptop, and pulls up Spotify. “Classical or modern?”
“Mm...modern.”
“Mine or yours?”
“Yours.” Virgil doesn’t feel like making any more choices today. He’s listened to all of Patton’s playlists hundreds of times anyway, and he likes all of them, even if they’re not his. Today’s not a My Chemical Romance kind of day though.
According to Patton, it seems to be an Owl City and Postal Service kind of day. That’s fine. It’s bouncy and light and thoroughly optimistic.
They sort through the clothes systematically; bring or leave for clean, fold, bring or leave for dirty, throw in a load of wash, lie on the bed and do nothing, dryer, fold. The books are harder; Patton’s trying to be gentle but he’s also trying to keep Virgil from bringing his entire library and Virgil would sooner leave one of his own limbs at home than leave a book, if he thinks he might need it.
“Is 1001 mushrooms and fungi really necessary, Virgil? Really? You don’t even go outside.”
“I do, sometimes,” Virgil says, around the dictionary sized book in his arms. He doesn’t. He just likes the idea of knowing what’s poisonous and what’s not. Of knowing what would sustain you if you got lost in the woods for any reason. In the end they leave it, but not without a considerable fight from Virgil.
After that he’s somewhat at a loss. What exactly do you need besides clothes and books? Tons of things, he’s sure, but Patton keeps telling him they’ll pack toiletries in the morning and if he’s really forgotten something crucial they can just buy something new at the campus store.
“Or in town,” he says. “It’s a really nice college town, Virgil, I can’t believe you got out of orientation. I can’t believe you wanted to.”
Virgil shrugs “They wouldn’t have let me stay with you, would they?”
“No, the rooms are randomly assigned. But, Virge, that’s a good thing! You get to meet new people! Get thrown right into the thick of things.”
Virgil shudders. Thick of things sounds like thicket. Maybe he’d prefer that. Being thrown into a jumble of thorns sounds better than meeting new people.
“Patton?”
“Mm?”
“Can you stay over tonight?”
Patton hesitates, and Virgil feels horrible. He has a family to go home to. This is their last night at home, both of them. Virgil’s family (if you could call it that) probably wouldn’t even notice if he was out at a club till four in the morning. They’d probably be relieved, actually, at their son actually being normal. Patton’s little siblings shriek and cling as soon as he’s walked through the door, like over excited dogs. Or like he’s Santa. They shriek and cling at Virgil too, who tries to pry them off as gently as possible while internally freaking out.
But he doesn’t want to be alone in this big house tonight, so big that you couldn’t tell anyone else was in it, even if his parents do come home. Even if they want you to know they’re there.
He’s being incredibly selfish, and he hates it, and he’s halfway to telling Patton to go home when he smiles and says, “Sure, Virge.”
They pull Virgil’s high end sleeping bags out of his closet and pop popcorn and watch Coraline on Virgil’s laptop. The tv downstairs is bigger, but Virgil’s feeling unusually attached to his room tonight. And there’s a higher concentration of Patton per square inch when they’re in a small space.
That sounds stupid, but Patton always uses math to make him feel better. More orderly. Patton can make it sound like all the numbers in the universe are falling together for him.
“What are the odds?” he’d ask. “What are the odds that in all of time and space, between all the planets and space dust and dinosaurs-”
“Space dust,” Virgil had snorted.
“Space dust,” Patton confirmed. “That you and I would be human? That we’d be born on the same planet, in the same country, in the same town, go to the same school? That we’d exist at the same time? What are the incredible odds?”
“What are the odds that you’d like me?” Virgil mumbled, and Patton had cuffed him lightly on the shoulder. “How could I not like you, Virge? That’s the only sure statistic.”
Patton’s asleep now. Virgil’s laptop, which is balanced on his stomach, rises and falls every time he breathes. Virgil takes it carefully and pauses the movie, then gets up to turn off the lamp.
When he lies down on the sleeping bag again, Patton rolls over and rests his head against Virgil’s chest.
“Did I wake you up?” Virgil whispers.
“A little bit,” says Patton sleepily. “ ‘M falling back asleep tho. Love you, kiddo.”
Virgil huffs out a tiny sigh so he won’t disturb Patton’s head on his chest. “I love you too.”
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Q&A: Actor Chris Harder Talks ‘Big Bright Star’
When Chris Harder left North Dakota for New York City to pursue a career on the Broadway stage, he had no idea what twists and turns his career would follow. While taking auditions, he paid the rent as a go-go boy at gay clubs and later, by becoming a sex worker in the gay porn industry.
Harder tells his story in “Big Bright Star,” a one-man show receiving its regional premiere July 20 through Aug. 20 at Andrews Living Arts in Fort Lauderdale’s trendy FAT Village arts district.
“I’ve wanted to write a show about the adult industry that took a step away from the usual ‘I got into porn and it ruined my life’ narrative,” Harder explained. “I also wanted to create a show for myself that allowed me to get back into writing and acting and combine those loves with my burlesque career.”
Harder’s story begins two decades ago in North Dakota, where he was the awkward queer boy who played with his sister’s dolls, proving the road to gay porn stardom is paved with Barbie’s. He doesn’t regret any of the choices he’s made since and hopes to mount his show Off Broadway after the Fort Lauderdale run.
“Big Bright Star” is directed by David Drake, the writer and performer of the hit show, “The Night I Kissed Larry Kramer.”
It was a pleasure to sit down with Chris for this Hotspots exclusive interview.
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Q: Were you always an actor, even as a kid?
A: Yes! I think my first role ever was playing a bunny doctor in kindergarten. I’m sure there was some kind of larger metaphor at work! I really fell in love with theater in high school though and was lucky to have several teachers who were amazingly supportive of me and my queer queerness. In college I also started writing plays and as part of my senior thesis I wrote and directed a one act play called “Steel and Snow,” which was about two young gay men coming out to each other and falling in love. It ran for two nights and sold out both shows and I remember just being thrilled that queer people were coming to see my show and that there was a need and a desire for that kind of work.
Q: What was your first professional/paid gig?
A: I was really lucky when I first moved to NYC nine years ago. My first summer in the city I was cast in a re-staging of Amiri Baracka’s “The Toilet,” originally written during the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s. We performed the show — which is a phenomenally written play with queer, interracial undertones –I n a park and were continually heckled by teenagers. I loved every minute though. Then, shortly after that show ended, I was cast in the dazzling role of the Old Sheep in a children’s theater production of “Charlotte’s Web.” I essentially left New York for three months to play some really beautiful theaters and some very brightly lit cafeteria auditoriums in a giant purple sheep costume. That’s show business!
Q: How old were you when you left North Dakota to go to NYC, and how did you make that decision?
A: I moved to New York when I was 22. I spent the summer before my senior year of college working as many jobs as my body and sleep schedule could handle and then bought a one-way ticket. I graduated in May and left in June. At the time, I actually was considering staying in North Dakota one more year because I was in love with my college boyfriend and part of me really wanted to stay and wait for him. One day during my shift as a barista, a regular customer who was a grungy, English ex-patriate artist who never combed his hair convinced me to seize the moment and move to New York. I’m really thankful I listened to him. I still have a thing for English accents.
Q: How was it to Go-Go boy at Gay Clubs?
A: I loved go-go dancing. I did it all through my twenties in all kinds of clubs and gay bars. There’s really a whole other one-man show just in those years. I think what dawned on me once I moved to New York was that I could actually be 1) valued for my looks and body and 2) potentially make a living from them as well. It had just never occurred to me that I was one of “those” guys. The idea that people would want me was so foreign, not because I felt ugly or hated in ND, but because I was actually really a late bloomer in terms of coming into my body.
Q: How did you get into the adult male entertainment industry?
A: By my late 20s –around 27– I had been go-go dancing and also working as a burlesque dancer non-stop for over four years. I loved both my nightlife worlds but I was also getting burnt out and really, just wasn’t making enough money. Through nightlife I had met all kind of sex workers both male and female as well as porn stars who would make appearances at clubs. Porn started to sound really enticing to me. Not just for the money but also because I was becoming more of an exhibitionist. I also became aware especially of Francois Sagat and his transformation from porn star to artist and actor, and I felt like I could combine my nightlife persona and work with the adult world and sort of become this ultimate adult entertainer.
Q: What made you decide to write this show, and when did you write it?
A: I started writing #BigBrightStar not only to reflect on my experiences in porn but also because I want there to be more narratives about sex workers that are less, “I got into the industry and it ruined my life,” and more, “I did porn/sex work/etc and I’m still a person. I still have my humanity. And I’ve also got some really crazy stories!” I’m also personally fascinated with how social media has become such a huge part of everyone’s lives now regardless of whether they are performers of any kind or just work in an office. I think more than ever there is a huge cultural obsession to be a star, whether it’s a porn star, YouTube star, or Twitter star.
I’ve now been working on #BigBrightStar for over a year. I began writing it in May 2016 and did several readings later that year and in early 2017. Then I paired up with the phenomenal director and Obie award-winning performer/playwright David Drake for the first fully-staged production of #BigBrightStar this past June.
Q: Are you excited to be making your regional premiere in Fort Lauderdale?
A: I am truly so excited to perform #BigBrightStar in Fort Lauderdale. I can’t believe the show is already getting new life but I really can’t wait to perform the work for Florida audiences and share David Drake’s direction and also work with Ronnie Larsen.
Q: What should the South Florida audiences expect from “Big Bright Star”?
A: Audiences can expect to laugh — at least I think I’m pretty funny! I try to give people not only a behind the scenes look at life in front of the camera, but also a comedic interpretation of my own life and persona. I’m just as goofy and weird as I am “sexy.” In creating and further developing #BigBrightStar. I’m always walking the line between sex and humor. I want to deliver both to the audience so again, expect to laugh — and expect an eyeful.
Chris Harder will perform “Big Bright Star,” July 20 – Aug. 20, on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 5 p.m., at Andrews Living Arts, 23 NW 5th St. in Fort Lauderdale. Tickets are $35 – $45 at RonnieLarsen.com.
from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2017/07/19/qa-actor-chris-harder-talks-big-bright-star/ from Hot Spots Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.tumblr.com/post/163182322660
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Q&A: Actor Chris Harder Talks ‘Big Bright Star’
When Chris Harder left North Dakota for New York City to pursue a career on the Broadway stage, he had no idea what twists and turns his career would follow. While taking auditions, he paid the rent as a go-go boy at gay clubs and later, by becoming a sex worker in the gay porn industry.
Harder tells his story in “Big Bright Star,” a one-man show receiving its regional premiere July 20 through Aug. 20 at Andrews Living Arts in Fort Lauderdale’s trendy FAT Village arts district.
“I’ve wanted to write a show about the adult industry that took a step away from the usual ‘I got into porn and it ruined my life’ narrative,” Harder explained. “I also wanted to create a show for myself that allowed me to get back into writing and acting and combine those loves with my burlesque career.”
Harder’s story begins two decades ago in North Dakota, where he was the awkward queer boy who played with his sister’s dolls, proving the road to gay porn stardom is paved with Barbie’s. He doesn’t regret any of the choices he’s made since and hopes to mount his show Off Broadway after the Fort Lauderdale run.
“Big Bright Star” is directed by David Drake, the writer and performer of the hit show, “The Night I Kissed Larry Kramer.”
It was a pleasure to sit down with Chris for this Hotspots exclusive interview.
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Q: Were you always an actor, even as a kid?
A: Yes! I think my first role ever was playing a bunny doctor in kindergarten. I’m sure there was some kind of larger metaphor at work! I really fell in love with theater in high school though and was lucky to have several teachers who were amazingly supportive of me and my queer queerness. In college I also started writing plays and as part of my senior thesis I wrote and directed a one act play called “Steel and Snow,” which was about two young gay men coming out to each other and falling in love. It ran for two nights and sold out both shows and I remember just being thrilled that queer people were coming to see my show and that there was a need and a desire for that kind of work.
Q: What was your first professional/paid gig?
A: I was really lucky when I first moved to NYC nine years ago. My first summer in the city I was cast in a re-staging of Amiri Baracka’s “The Toilet,” originally written during the Black Arts Movement of the 1960s. We performed the show — which is a phenomenally written play with queer, interracial undertones –I n a park and were continually heckled by teenagers. I loved every minute though. Then, shortly after that show ended, I was cast in the dazzling role of the Old Sheep in a children’s theater production of “Charlotte’s Web.” I essentially left New York for three months to play some really beautiful theaters and some very brightly lit cafeteria auditoriums in a giant purple sheep costume. That’s show business!
Q: How old were you when you left North Dakota to go to NYC, and how did you make that decision?
A: I moved to New York when I was 22. I spent the summer before my senior year of college working as many jobs as my body and sleep schedule could handle and then bought a one-way ticket. I graduated in May and left in June. At the time, I actually was considering staying in North Dakota one more year because I was in love with my college boyfriend and part of me really wanted to stay and wait for him. One day during my shift as a barista, a regular customer who was a grungy, English ex-patriate artist who never combed his hair convinced me to seize the moment and move to New York. I’m really thankful I listened to him. I still have a thing for English accents.
Q: How was it to Go-Go boy at Gay Clubs?
A: I loved go-go dancing. I did it all through my twenties in all kinds of clubs and gay bars. There’s really a whole other one-man show just in those years. I think what dawned on me once I moved to New York was that I could actually be 1) valued for my looks and body and 2) potentially make a living from them as well. It had just never occurred to me that I was one of “those” guys. The idea that people would want me was so foreign, not because I felt ugly or hated in ND, but because I was actually really a late bloomer in terms of coming into my body.
Q: How did you get into the adult male entertainment industry?
A: By my late 20s –around 27– I had been go-go dancing and also working as a burlesque dancer non-stop for over four years. I loved both my nightlife worlds but I was also getting burnt out and really, just wasn’t making enough money. Through nightlife I had met all kind of sex workers both male and female as well as porn stars who would make appearances at clubs. Porn started to sound really enticing to me. Not just for the money but also because I was becoming more of an exhibitionist. I also became aware especially of Francois Sagat and his transformation from porn star to artist and actor, and I felt like I could combine my nightlife persona and work with the adult world and sort of become this ultimate adult entertainer.
Q: What made you decide to write this show, and when did you write it?
A: I started writing #BigBrightStar not only to reflect on my experiences in porn but also because I want there to be more narratives about sex workers that are less, “I got into the industry and it ruined my life,” and more, “I did porn/sex work/etc and I’m still a person. I still have my humanity. And I’ve also got some really crazy stories!” I’m also personally fascinated with how social media has become such a huge part of everyone’s lives now regardless of whether they are performers of any kind or just work in an office. I think more than ever there is a huge cultural obsession to be a star, whether it’s a porn star, YouTube star, or Twitter star.
I’ve now been working on #BigBrightStar for over a year. I began writing it in May 2016 and did several readings later that year and in early 2017. Then I paired up with the phenomenal director and Obie award-winning performer/playwright David Drake for the first fully-staged production of #BigBrightStar this past June.
Q: Are you excited to be making your regional premiere in Fort Lauderdale?
A: I am truly so excited to perform #BigBrightStar in Fort Lauderdale. I can’t believe the show is already getting new life but I really can’t wait to perform the work for Florida audiences and share David Drake’s direction and also work with Ronnie Larsen.
Q: What should the South Florida audiences expect from “Big Bright Star”?
A: Audiences can expect to laugh — at least I think I’m pretty funny! I try to give people not only a behind the scenes look at life in front of the camera, but also a comedic interpretation of my own life and persona. I’m just as goofy and weird as I am “sexy.” In creating and further developing #BigBrightStar. I’m always walking the line between sex and humor. I want to deliver both to the audience so again, expect to laugh — and expect an eyeful.
Chris Harder will perform “Big Bright Star,” July 20 – Aug. 20, on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 5 p.m., at Andrews Living Arts, 23 NW 5th St. in Fort Lauderdale. Tickets are $35 – $45 at RonnieLarsen.com.
from Hotspots! Magazine https://hotspotsmagazine.com/2017/07/19/qa-actor-chris-harder-talks-big-bright-star/
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