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sylverstorms · 4 years ago

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Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity

Three months, two days and seven hours.

That is how long you’ve been in Dimitrescu castle for. If rumor is to be believed, you are well on your way to setting the year’s record for longest living maid. Well. ‘Maid’, according to their perception. Your mind always automatically corrects it to something more fitting:

Prisoner.

You did not choose to work for them. You did not choose to be in this godforsaken place, cleaning crimson stains off the floors, trying to convince yourself the wailing that sometimes reaches your ears is simply the wind. You never would have imagined your life’s end like this, serving wine –no, who are you kidding, it’s too crimson for that— to the Dimitrescus at dinner until one of them snaps and drives the nearest blade into your throat.

Probably Daniela.

It’s not unheard of. And stories of other maids’ murders are plenty.

Daniela has bitten one’s throat off for the crime of addressing her wrongly. Cassandra has left increasingly deep gashes, some of which resulted in deaths, for random offenses, like staring at her for too long. Bela, arguably the more merciful of the three, has snapped necks only when the staff disrespected her sisters’ names, or her mother’s.

You aren’t sure if you want to thank the older maids for this information or yell at them for the nightmares it has caused you. You are lucky to not be in the village, they say –everyone there must already be dead. You are even luckier to have been taken from the dungeon by the Lady herself. It means the daughters don’t know you and the castle is big enough that they may never spare you a glance.

You hadn’t believed it, at first.

Yet in the three months of your stay, you have never come across anyone other than Bela in the sections you were assigned to clean and polish. She passed you by the hallway like she did the decorations and the furniture –and you couldn’t be happier about it. You have caught scarce glimpses of Alcina Dimitrescu, too. Never the other two residents.

Not until the fateful day another maid disappears and the staff’s assigned posts change. You have no say in it and no power to object.

May as well keep my head down and continue to work as carefully as I have. That is the idea. Not to look too much, or think too much, or feel too much. Avoid mistakes because those in the castle are fatal.

It is a little difficult to remain utterly calm when the sound of swarming insects comes from far behind you, though.

Your blood starts to kick in your veins. Your heart wants to jump out of your chest and make a run for it. You lock your muscles down and summon all the willpower you possess to stay focused on your task.

Please be Bela, please, please, be Bela—

The buzzing dies down. Steps approach you in the otherwise silent hallway. They are too light to be Bela’s. You’re probably screwed, you think, but you keep cleaning the surface in front of you until it’s practically a mirror with how it shines.

The steps halt too close to you for comfort. Out of the corner of your eye, you realize they’ve left bloody imprints on the floor you’ve been polishing for hours now. Dainty, pale fingers are wrapped loosely, almost lazily, around a sickle dripping crimson.

“Never seen you around, before.” the sound of her voice makes you freeze.

You stop and turn— to face none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her hood is down, brunette waves on point, the dried blood at her chin a terrible contrast to her otherwise attractive face. You… didn’t know she was that pretty, up close.

“I… I have been here for three months. On the opposite wing.” you say. Was I even supposed to reply? You’ll find out soon enough, if your tongue is still attached to your body.

Her eyes give you a quick once-over. “Bela’s been keeping you a secret, huh.” she tsks. Her free hand goes to the handle of the door next to you… and only then do you realize it must be her bedroom. You’re literally assigned to clean the wolf’s den. “Come wake me up when the sun has set, completely.” she emphasizes.

What.

“Uh—”

The crimson-dyed sickle moves until its blade rests underneath your chin, lifting it so your eyes meet hers. From this angle, under the pale lighting of dawn, they look more –stunning— blue than inhuman gold. “No loud sounds. No lights. Got it?”

How can you not, when your life depends on it?

“Yes, my lady.” you reply. You don’t even dare draw breath.

“Good.” In one swift movement, the sickle is gone, the handle turned and she’s already shedding her robe.

You catch a glimpse of a black corset and a narrow waist before you avert your eyes.

The door shuts.

...

Waking Cassandra up can be… tricky, the other maids tell you.

She detests light when she opens her eyes but she also doesn’t want it to be pitch black. You’re not supposed to talk but you can’t shake her, either. Which brings you to the very logical question:

“What the hell am I supposed to do, then?”

To which they have no answer.

They have no answer, you realize with a start… because there’s nobody alive to tell the tale of how to actually wake the brunette sleeping beauty up without simultaneously signing their own death sentence.

The hours pass both too slow and too fast. The sun sets over the horizon.

And you stand, riddled with nerves, outside Cassandra’s room.

A deep inhale later, you turn the handle. The door is left half-open so a bit of light comes in from the hallway. Her bedroom smells like shampoo, bath salts and spices. She must have taken a shower before she went to sleep. You approach the figure tucked under the silken sheets of the queen-sized bed…

Cassandra is lying on her side, one hand underneath her pillow, the other extended loosely towards the edge of the mattress. She probably sleeps naked, at least from the waist up, but thankfully the covers are wrapped around her chest. Their royal red color makes a stark contrast against the paleness of her skin.

Her face is so… serene.

She is a monster and a sadistic killer, yet right there you can’t deny she looks more like a renaissance painting.

Now onto the hard part.

“My lady… the sun has set.” you whisper, kneeled on the floor beside her. No movement comes. “Hey… I’m here to wake you up?” you try again. Still nothing. Shakily, you bring your hand up to the bed. Not daring to touch her, you leave it beside hers, over the covers. “Cassandra?”

She turns her face deeper into her pillow –no, no, you don’t think it’s cute, what’s wrong with you— but at least she’s finally reacting. You call her name one more time.

Her nose scrunches up a little. Long fingers flex –and they touch yours. She’s cold. A pair of blueish ambers blink open to regard you. Not with malice, or with annoyance.

“Good evening.” you speak, unsure of what else to say.

A smirk slowly curves her lips. She looks like a lazy cat pondering whether or not it’s worth it to pounce and that’s not good. It’s not good, not ‘hot’ like your mind suggests. God, you’ve been in this castle so long you are starting to get messed up.

“Mm, breakfast in bed.” she grins and licks her lower lip sexily. Your eyes fly wide open, but her hand is already gripping the front of your black shirt, trapping you there.

How could you ever find this psycho attractive?! you get mad at yourself. Is she hot now that she’s going to kill you?

But Cassandra only lets out an airy laugh and releases you. You fall backwards on your behind. “Breathe, darling, I’m joking.” She rolls onto her back and seems to wince from it. Her smile vanishes.

“…does… your back hurt?” you ask when you finally find your voice again.

“Ugh, a Lycan landed a hit on me. He’s pieces now, of course, but my muscles still pull.” she says it casually, like it’s a thing that happens.

Silence falls over the room. You take it as your cue to leave. You stand and bow while she’s looking blankly at the ceiling—

But she stops you.

“Wait. Come here.” you don’t like it when she gets that tone, like she came up with something she cannot wait to try. You’re already close to the bed, you’re not sure what she means. Until she pats the spot right next to her. “Don’t make me say it again.”

You won’t. You know what’s good for you.

Hesitantly, you take a seat on the –admittedly very comfortable— mattress. “Yes, lady?”

“Give me a massage.” she says like it’s your job, like she’s the rich woman in a spa and it’s what’s expected. She turns onto her front, bearing her naked back to you and you have less than five seconds to come to terms with the thought of straddling her.

Carefully, you bring your knees on either side of her thighs and pull the sheets so they rest low at her waist. You feel warmer than you should given the temperature of the castle. If she knows the fine teasing line she’s walking, she is loving every inch of it.

Cassandra loves being the center of attention and she loves being pampered, you realize.

It’s probably amusing to her to make you fluster, but this is also an opportunity for you to get on her good graces. She is a dangerous one and it’ll be a great asset for your survival if she’s leaning favorably towards you. Win-win situation. You just have to be good at your job. Like always.

By some miracle of God, you do know how to work the tension out of muscles.

The first time you touch her, you simply rest your hands on her back to warm it. She doesn’t seem to object, from the way lean muscle stretches out under your fingers. Cassandra feels cool, but not hard like marble. Her skin yields under your touch, soft and smooth.

As you apply more pressure to your stokes, she starts to let out little sighs that you have to mute in your mind before they start to affect you. You’ve been high-strung and without sex for too long. Your body all too eagerly intercepts this death-trap as foreplay.

Minutes roll by.

You alternate between all the methods you know. The one that really seems to get her is when you drive your thumb into the knots and end with a little circle.

Cassandra is –God help you— openly moaning every time you press more. It is a bit too much pressure you’re applying though and you don’t know if you’re hurting her and she’s just into it.

“Is this too much…?” you ask. Fuck, why do you sound so breathless?

“No, it’s good.” she husks back.

“Harder?” You don’t know what innocent means, anymore.

Cassandra sends that little smirk again over her shoulder. “Harder.” she replies and the extra flair she puts into it is enough to nearly fry your brain. And other parts of you.

You’re pretty sure you need a cold shower by the time you leave her room.

...

At diner, you hang back in the shadows, gaze downcast.

You do not need to know what the Dimitrescu family is eating, nor what they’re drinking. You do not need to see Cassandra or risk catching Daniela’s gaze. You love your anonymity in the castle. It has kept you alive.

But it is shattered like frail glass when you bring another bottle of Sanguis Virginis to the table. You’ve almost retreated back to your place, when Daniela’s eyes zero in on you.

“She’s the human!” she exclaims like she’s made the world’s most startling discovery. Bela seems to understand, but the Lady and Cassandra frown over their glasses.

“I am almost afraid to ask, love.” Lady Alcina says…

And she’s right.

“The one who made Cassandra go ‘harder’ and ‘yes, yes!’ earlier this evening.” she impersonates in her sluttiest voice and then breaks into a fit of cackles. Bela’s lip twists into a withheld chuckle.

Lady Dimitrescu nearly chokes on her wine.

Cassandra slaps the back of Daniela’s head. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Girls.” Alcina warns and glares until the table calms again.

Then, her eyes curiously fall upon you.

So much for your anonymity.

Ko-Fi

#Cassandra Dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu's daughters #cassandra x oc #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #fanfiction #cass kills with her hair and nails on point she's the murder-princess type #you can't change my mind #I love her

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eretzyisrael · 3 years ago

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Interviews with volunteers from the Jewish community who are helping victims of the disaster in Florida.

On Thursday, June 24, 2021, tragedy struck Champlain Towers, a 12-story residential building in the Miami suburb of Surfside. Half of the complex suddenly collapsed in the early hours of the morning, burying entire families in the rubble. Days after the disaster, the remains of several people killed in the crush have been recovered and 150 people remain unaccounted for.

Champlain Towers is home to a diverse community that includes many Jews. In the days that followed this catastrophe, Jews and others around the world have come together to help search for victims and to comfort the families desperately waiting for word of their loved ones.

Searching Through the Rubble

Leon Roy Hausmann, a volunteer with the Mexican Jewish rescue organization Cadena, is on the scene in Surfside and spoke with Aish.com about the sense of solidarity he feels with the community and the many victims of the calamity.

Cadena volunteers help people “regardless of nationality, regardless of religion; we don’t discriminate,” he explains. After working around the world to help search for and rescue victims of over 1,000 natural disasters, helping search for residents of Champlain Towers feels close to home. “It just feels more immediate when it’s our people who are victimized by this event.”

When Cadena volunteers heard about the Chaplain Towers collapse, they sprang into action, dispatching seven Jewish search and rescue experts to Miami, and mobilizing local Cadena volunteers in the Miami area. “This is the highest technology in the market,” Hausmann notes of his team’s equipment, which includes sonar devices that can detect sounds underneath dozens of feet of rubble, search dogs trained to detect human scent, and x-ray machinery.

“We’re working with the Fire Department of Miami-Dade County," Hausmann notes, describing their work as round the clock and nonstop. Cadena volunteers have also dispatched psychologists and therapists who are working with family members who are still awaiting news.

Thousands of local residents have been volunteering to bring food and clothes and other items to the family members who are waiting and also to those families who made it out of Chaplain Towers alive and are currently homeless. “Thousands of volunteers have been bringing food and clothes and anything the families need. It has been very touching to see.”

One of Hausmann’s most moving moments during the past few days came on Shabbat, the day after the collapse. About 17 Cadena volunteers were at the site late on Friday night, providing support to the local fire department rescuers. “We made Kiddush for the whole team,” Hausmann recalls, “and also for all the Jewish people who are still trapped underneath the rubble.”

Diaspora Affairs Minister Nachman Shai at the site of a building collapse in Surfside, Florida, just outside Miami, on June 27, 2021

On Sunday, June 27, a group of ten Israeli Home Front Command soldiers arrived in Surfside. They went straight to the site of the building collapse and got to work alongside Cadena volunteers and local Miami-area first responders, searching in the rubble for survivors and also for the remains of victims of the collapse, bringing their unique search and rescue experience and expertise.

Rabbi Counselling the Bereaved and the Waiting

“The need right now is endless. You think of all these different families that have been erased in the blink of an eye,” explained Rabbi Dr. Fred Klein, one of the key responders in the area.

Rabbi Klein is the Executive Vice President of the Rabbinical Association of Greater Miami, Director of Mishkan Miami, and is board certified in clinical pastoral care. When Champlain Towers collapsed, the Jewish Federation of Greater Miami sent Rabbi Klein to help. He spoke with Aish.com during a busy day, filled with meetings and work coordinating the many elements of response to the disaster.

Right now, there are two main areas where Rabbi Klein and other volunteers are focusing their efforts. “One is actually the area where they’re doing search and rescue,” he explains. Throughout Sunday, June 27 – the Jewish fast day of the 17th of Tammuz, when Jews were fasting despite the extreme heat in Surfside – Rabbi Klein worked to take groups of family members to visit the site. “It’s extremely traumatic for them.”

A second area where Rabbi Klein is working is a local hotel where hundreds of family members of people who are still missing are gathered. “They came from around the country. They’re waiting for news and I think it’s a very difficult place to be psychologically.” He notes that many family members are praying “for a miracle” that their loved ones are found alive. “It’s hard to know what to do, or how to feel, or how to plan,” without knowing whether their loved ones are still alive. The hotel is offering kosher meals, all prepared by local volunteers. “So much good will has been flowing in from the Jewish community since the tragedy," Rabbi Klein explains, helping both Jewish and non-Jewish victims alike.

He notes that donations have poured in from throughout the area and that some local synagogues have transformed themselves into distribution centers for donated goods. “It’s not just the families who are waiting for news of a loved one,” he notes: “There are also families who lived in Champlain Towers who escaped. They are in need too. They’re homeless right now and are going to have to rebuild their lives.”

“I’m an Orthodox rabbi,” he notes, “but you see rabbis from all different walks of life – men and women – they’re on the ground right now. They’re trying to help diverse groups of Jews.”

Vital Medical Support

Many of the volunteers supporting the first responders in Surfside and aiding families of missing people are members of Hatzalah of South Florida, a Jewish group that improves health and medical outcomes by “augmenting existing emergency medical services in South Florida with community-based state-certified EMT (Emergency Medical Technician) volunteer responders.”

Joseph Dahan is one of the Hatzalah volunteers working in Surfside. “We’re broken down into several different teams,” he explained to Aish.com – with each team focusing on a different area of need.

At the site of the building collapse itself, “we’re providing the triage and medical support for the search and rescue teams,” he notes. When rescuers become injured or dehydrated on the job, Hatzalah volunteers help tend to the first responders.

Hatzalah also operates units of volunteers at the hotel where hundreds of family members are waiting for news. They employ psychotherapists and also work with other organizations to help counsel people. Hatzalah provides support medically and emotionally during these trying times.

Running a Storehouse of Donated Goods

Rabbi Gidon Moskovitz currently lives in Houston, but he and his family are soon planning to move to Bal Harbor – a neighboring suburb near Surfside – when he becomes the rabbi of Young Israel of Bal Harbor later this summer. As soon as Rabbi Moskovitz heard about Champlain Towers disaster, he knew he had to be with his Florida congregants, and flew to the area to help.

What he found was a huge outpouring of chesed (acts of kindness and help). Local Jews were collecting food, toiletries and other items to donate to families who lost their homes and possessions in the collapse. Soon, the garage of Young Israel of Bal Harbor was filled with donated items to distribute. Many of his congregants have friends and relatives who are still missing, and they are doing all they can to help.

“We knew they had nothing.”

“As soon as we heard about things Thursday morning at the crack of dawn, we checked on our (congregational) families,” recalls Mike Baranek, the Director of Congregational Engagement of Temple Beth Shalom in Miami Beach, in an Aish.com interview. He soon found that two of his synagogue’s members lived in Champlain Towers. “Thank God, both families were alive,” he notes. “One family walked out (of the building) in their pajamas” – unable to return to the destroyed building, they cannot access any of their family possessions.

Baranek notes that local Jewish families immediately opened their homes, giving displaced residents places to stay. “It’s been an amazing response from the city and from the Jewish community.” His congregants have been working to gather donations and to help in any way they can. “We got to the point where announcements were made that no more physical supplies are needed.”

The day after the collapse, Temple Beth Shalom delivered Shabbat dinner to their congregants who’d lost their homes. In addition to food, the synagogue also delivered kippahs, tallitot (Jewish prayer shawls), siddurs (Jewish prayer books), wine and candles for Shabbat. “We knew they had nothing,” Baranek explains.

What we can do

With the search and rescue operation still underway, there are many ways that we around the world can also step up to help. “At this moment the most important thing is to pray for the lives of the people who perished and who may still be alive,” notes Cadena volunteer Leon Roy Hausmann. Rabbi Moskovitz has been emphasizing the “power of what prayer can do.” He wants people to understand that prayer is just as important as other types of actions.

During times of tragedy, it’s a Jewish custom to recite Psalms. Consider spending some time reciting one or more Psalms each day. Here is a link to English translations of these powerful, timeless Jewish prayers. https://tehillim-online.com/tehillim-translated-into-english

We can also donate funds to help sustain the volunteers working in Surfside and the families who are in dire need.

The Greater Miami Jewish Federation has set up a fund to help victims of the Champlain Towers collapse. https://jewishmiami.org/gift/surfsidebuildingcollapse/?fbclid=IwAR318kF3kFQzOJaVXD3mVG0Zedgd0-f1SGr-wWGCZGi5B0zUhMOKafbr4Rk

The Shul of Bal Harbour, which is near to Champlain Towers and has served as a center for receiving and sorting donations, has set up the 8777 Collins Avenue Relief Fund. This fund will “be dispersed as needed directly to the victims and families.” https://www.theshul.org/8777

Donations to Hatzalah of South Florida can be made at this site: https://www.hatzalahsouthflorida.org/donate

#Israel #USA #Florida #Surfside

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ephemerlskies · 4 years ago

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in the stars tonight | pjm

⇢ pairing: jimin x reader

[other members - seokjin, taehyung, namjoon]

⇢ genre: series, ANGST, enemies to lovers au, actor!jimin, actor!oc, (eventual) fluff if you squint

⇢ word count: 8.4

⇢ genre: Landing a role that might launch your entire career as an actor had come with the most unpredictable and daunting circumstances: grappling with the tragic loss of your boyfriend, Namjoon, and co-starring in a film with the vexing yet enchanting (and famous), Park Jimin.

⇢ warnings: explicit language, themes of grief/loss, themes of depression, (many) mentions of death, mentions of driving under the influence (please stay safe!!), themes of alcoholism, themes of escapism, mentions of alcohol, mentions of marijuana, unhealthy coping mechanisms, lots of internal dialogue with one deceased boyfriend, arguing/bickering, seokjin being seokjin, eventual love triangle (ish) feud

♪ playlist: dynamite - bts, move! - niki, saint nobody - jessie reyez, through the night - iu, ilomilo - billie eilish, the truth untold - bts, slow dancing in the dark - joji ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 (coming soon)

a/n: i, and i cannot emphasize this enough, can't believe this came out of me.... it was just a lil idea in my head, but then it expanded into this entire story that was way too long to fit into a one shot. so, here's me serving up a hot plate of enemies to lovers with a generous side of angst and longing!!! i hope y'all enjoy (and hate) arrogant jimin as much as i did hehe <3 ps i have no idea how long i want this series to be i'm lowkey winging it

The world does not slow down for anything. Not for catastrophes or miracles or even something as devastatingly common as death.

When your boyfriend of three years, Namjoon, lost his life due to another's drunken mistake, you realized this. The world revolves on a scheduled orbit, and not even your tragedy wedged a wrench big enough to halt life just a moment. Just to let you breathe and grieve without feeling left behind. However, you were left behind, both by the world and him.

Every sun and moon, every skipped meal, every unfulfilled rain-check, every isolated Saturday night, and every cancelled audition that came as quickly as they left paid tribute to this merciless phenomenon. It seemed you now existed just to watch the days pass, just to balefully relive the moments before Namjoon's passing. And that seemed to have been the only way you could have survived. To make a recluse of yourself because if the world was careless enough to let someone as amazing as him go, then what held it back from spilling even more wreckage into your life? For the past six months, you stuck to the cold, dead past. It was all you had to hold onto; letting go meant plummeting into a depth far too unknown and inescapable.

You and Namjoon were steadfast. You were still steadfast, or more appropriately, stuck now that you had no one to be loyal to anymore.

You and him were one of those couples other people saw and wished they could replicate into their own lives, but when it came down to it, rooted for your happy ending with him. The type similar to that of highschool sweethearts who beat the odds, or the type whose encounter fell along the silver lines of fate. Something beautiful that automatically made all the love poems authenticated by you and him. And when he held you, the idea of worry or evil seemed like concepts that did not exist past fictional tales. So warm, so loving, now gone.

The way in which you and Namjoon grew over the three years you were able to love him was in a convergent manner.

Your branches and vines were woven into his, and his into yours. Even your roots, the elements of your past, began to entangle beneath the soil. To root between each other meant there had been a foundation from which you grew, a stability that was once neat. There was no boundary of which would discern your life from his. And at one, more favorable, point in time, your life did belong to him. Namjoon was someone you only knew for a mere fraction of your life, however the moment he wandered into it, you had unlearned how to continue without him.

You didn't think you would have to relearn.

But then one decision forced you to do so. One person, who decided paying fifteen bucks for an Uber was not a wise enough investment, ripped out the plant of his body from your shared soil by means of inebriated judgment and a missed red light. You had no choice but to absorb the cruel sustenance of the sun completely alone. Most of your branches of life were left barren, with torn twigs where your body once borne fruit and leaves and beauty. But the roots were where most of the pain inhabited. A stubborn, sharp ache resided in your chest, deep enough that you might have had to be cut open and searched through to find the source.

It had been six months of 'Sorry for your loss' and 'Gone too soon' and your personal least favorite 'He's in a better place now'. It made you angry, because was there a place better for him that didn't have you in it? How could anyone know what was better for him when they didn't experience something as tender and gentle and loving as your relationship?

But none of the sympathetic smiles or half-hearted condolences made you quite as angry as the monster who was too selfish to call someone to drive them and consequently punctuating the eternity you were meant to spend with Namjoon. You always followed the virtue that an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. Forgiveness was a sweeter release than anything else, but if you could, you would take that drunk driver's life in a heartbeat. You would have gauged out your own eyes if the chance fell into your reach.

Though, no matter how hard you screamed at the universe for hurting you, despite the countless pleas to somehow retrospectively tell Namjoon not to go out for something as trivial as toothpaste so he might be alive today, holding your hand in this waiting room, telling you that you're going to do great, you knew the world wouldn't stop for you or your sorrow.

It revolves, waits for no one, and you had to pace yourself to jump back into the turning carousel of life.

"___. We're ready for you!" His voice was ten notches above a volume that wouldn't irritate you. The only hint you let slip that his tone made you want to throw this script at his crotch was the muted sigh.

You knew this audition was going to play out like the rest. They would ask you to read, stop you in the middle of your monologue, then say something like 'Thank you for your time, we'll get back to you soon' which was show business code for 'We are not giving you the role'. The only reason you were here was because you had been out of work for too long, the piles of overdue bills on your kitchen table a cruel reminder of that. Plus, you knew Namjoon would have told you to go.

He would have said something like, 'Get your lazy ass out of bed and go to that audition! You don't want Hollywood to miss out on a star just because you want to sleep in fifteen more minutes'. And it would have worked. It always had. Now, the only motivation that came to your aid was the echo of his voice, and even that had begun its slow descent into forget. Other than that, guidance of your own volition was as fleeting and disarrayed as a violent wind.

"Hi, my name is ___, and I will be auditioning for the lead. Jordan." Your hand must have been fielding its way through a nervous tick. The person you assumed was the director was eyeing the way it had been contorting at your side, and you hated showing that you were nervous.

"Perfect! We've already casted the other lead role. This audition will mostly be based on whether we think you'll have good chemistry with him." Him. So your possible running mate was a man. Before a list of names engraved on rows of stars cemented into the Hollywood walk of fame ran through your head, you lifted the script and collected all the air your lungs would allow.

Maybe, you thought, my courage and passion might come with it.

And when you opened your mouth, something magical that you credited to talent claimed sovereignty over your body. Now, you were Jordan. Jordan didn't have a dead boyfriend, now ex boyfriend, or luggage enough grief to sink a depression into the crust of the Earth. Jordan was a kind, low-energy, and sentimental artist coming into an age of overwhelming success and fortune —and love.

That's what alluded you in acting. For a moment, you could escape your life, leave your pain on the back burner while you emerged into someone who was unacquainted with the pain of losing the love of your life. It was akin to a drug, administering an intoxicating fill of temporary serotonin. Instant relief, and if you got this job you would have your fix of this twisted sort of high that tempered the Namjoon-sized void in your life. And Jordan's life definitely seemed to have, quite literally, all the things yours lacked.

"Wow, ___, was it? That was absolutely incredible!" The hand-covered whisper that followed this appraisal gave you time to begrudgingly peel of the Jordan mask. Within a half second, all the pain seemed to compound into your body. If you hadn't already shaped your entire life around that weight, you would have fallen over. Though you had done this, and even worse, you had been shouldering it for so long, you would have felt naked without such a burden. "Okay, well, we have a few more auditions but I think we have our Jordan! We'll send your manager the full script along with the schedule for the first week of shooting in about two weeks."

"Uh-" If you had not said something quick, the opportunity might have slipped away all too fast, the way Namjoon had. You vowed to grab hold of anything remotely good that arose into your life, giving you more than late nights of choked sobs and transfixed gazes out of half-curtained windows. This offer was clutched tightly in your fist. "Oh... Th- thank you! Thank you! Fuck, thank you so much. This means so much to me, thank you!"

Before you proliferated the meaning of the words thank you and the director's smile turned into rolled eyes, you stumbled your way out of the door. Waiting on the other side was a world that might strike against you with partially docile cruelty. The wind pressed against your skin, almost blowing away all your grief with the help of this successful audition.

That feeling, as always, was as comforting as it was fleeting. Because the scars of your past would not have budged for any brash current. Because your next thought disrupted the scant flourish of joy. It was the thing that came easier and sooner to you than eating and blinking; telling Namjoon any news of both good and bad ranks, sharing your life to celebrate or stress over. One of the many things that remained by an undissolvable adhesive along your mind. You tried to soak it away with liquor or smoke it out with weed, but there was no breaking of habits you loved almost as much as Namjoon.

I did it, Joon. I landed my first role. You thought, because that was the closest you could have gotten to relaying the news.

Your heart began to physically hurt. Heartaches were literal in your case. Literal and grim. You felt the grip of loss pierce its sharp thorns into your flesh. It had nearly been as painful as all the times your words were met to deceased ears, speaking to someone that had not belonged to you anymore. Six months had passed and pain cannot tell time in the way people can. So, you knew the marathon of your grief was one that followed its own metaphorical clock. You just had to keep running in hopes you could make it out alive.

Though, being Jordan for the next six months would help momentarily satiate your grief. If there were a remote for your emotions, this role would be the mute button. Your pain would still move as it usually would, but now it would be silent. You wouldn't have to listen to its unforgiving taunts and crippling obscenities. It was only just that you were paid reparations for six months of utter misery with six more months of narcotic, soundless distractions.

Two Weeks Later

If the universe had given you one good thing, it was skill and dedication to your craft. The script was memorized in just short of four days, and even a sizable amount of lines of the other characters had been stacked atop your memory. Doing an acceptable job at this role wasn't something that was worried you. In fact, the idea of wearing another's life on your body and on your heart was something you looked forward to.

It was a bit difficult to convince yourself how good this natural born gift was when the universe took something that felt a thousand times more crucial to your existence. Acting, or anything else that planted joy in you, was a consolation prize for merely participating in life. Namjoon was the reward you were meant to win in the end.

And you had no idea what the hell to do when the prize becomes in all of the sense of the word unattainable.

You hadn't driven in six months, despite the run-down Honda parked in front of your street, desperate to be given some sort of purpose. It was too much. Ever since the accident, the idea of manning a wheel that could take away more than it could ever offer was a responsibility you felt entirely too daunted to assume. Even though seat hogs, missed busses, and overcrowded walkways had been inconveniences of an indescribable level, it wasn't enough to put your body into the same vehicle that derailed your life.

Luckily, the bus stop was only three blocks away from the studio. It gave you plenty of time to get into character, however it also nestled in a span of time for Namjoon's voice to filter in and out through running your lines.

He talked to you a lot. As much as it made you want to cry, you held onto it, feeling as though it might be the last of his voice you'd be able to recall. If Namjoon's internal commentary were to suddenly disperse, you might forget his voice entirely. And you wouldn't admit this to anyone else, but you would always answer back. Sometimes out loud, and sometimes, when company forced you into sanity, you responded mentally. It kept you separate from life and any form of interaction with actual people, but it felt better than living in a world without him. Additionally, it helped keep his voice alive, which when you thought about it, was such sick irony. His voice, alive, his heart and mine and soul, dead.

And that was the only downside to acting. When there was another mind you had to engage in, Namjoon couldn't have broken the barrier and his voice wouldn't even register as an echo. Perhaps that was why you waited so long to dive back into your job. It felt synonymous with betrayal to do anything that would sever your connection already hanging by a single, fragile thread.

"___? Hello?" You were immune to every condescending gesture or vernacular weaponized in Hollywood by now. Your makeup artist's snaps fell into the base of annoyance you had grown used to. "Did you hear me? You're all ready."

Her voice wasn't too abrasive. If anything, you should be the one apologizing for dazing in and out of consciousness. Though, Namjoon's sweet compliments about how beautiful you looked with your stage makeup should have been the one to acquire this remorse.

"Sorry. I'm, uh, tired. Not used to waking up at six in the morning quite yet."

"Well, get used to it, or you'll have a rough few months ahead of you." Her laugh had shed whatever shell of pretentiousness once veiled her previous impression. "I'm Nayeon, by the way. I've heard many great things about you, ___. Let's hope you live up to the hype."

Nayeon's nudge was friendly, and it comforted you that within the first day you hadn't pissed off the person who could easily turn your face clown-like with a few heavy strokes of her brush. She was beautiful, too. If she hadn't been dressed in a black T-shirt strewn with foundation and powder stains, then you would have mistaken her for an actress.

"Let's hope so... I guess the director was selling me better than myself." Your eyes scanned the area, though no one seemed a fitting candidate to be your lead. "So, who's the other lead?"

"Park Jimin. I'm surprised they didn't tell you yet. I guess it's some obscure, artistic director decision to keep you in the dark. I’m lowkey fangirling right now… But, don't tell anyone that." Before you could respond, let alone react, Nayeon had collected all the products she needed for her next subject and was about a yard away from you. "Good luck, rookie!"

Park Jimin. You've definitely heard of him, but it surprised you that someone like him accepted a role in a romantic, indie, coming of age film that had not the budget to pay half of what he usually made in his repertoire of previous movies. He was certainly what one would consider an 'A-list' celebrity. The type paparazzi actually cared to stalk, and fans recognized in public, but were too shy to approach due to his sheer intimidation. It hadn't eased your nerves that he was notoriously withdrawn when it came to the behind the scenes portion of shooting a movie.

And, like any decent person, you did your very best to refrain from placing judgments without the opportunity for them to fill in their own narrative. Most of what you ‘knew’ of Jimin had been hearsay. However, you had some hunch Jimin wouldn't qualify as one who labored tirelessly for the roles he had landed or authenticated any sort of compassion with his rising fame.

See, acting and snagging a big role in a movie was characterized as a tall building for you. If one reached the top floor, then they would assume a wealth of opportunities and Oscar nominations and acclimation. Of course, this film industrial structure had various modes of climbing to the top. Some had stairs which called for more excretion and effort but still, all you needed were persistent legs, then each step would eventually get you where you wanted to be.

You had more of a ladder. Each wrung was slanted at an angle of which only deepened your brawl with success and had not been sanded down enough to save you from a generous supply of splinters. After a while, your hands began to ache and the fear that some high-society type would kick the base of your ladder always stalked the forefront of your worries. It certainly had not been a choice means of arrival to whatever awaited you on that top floor, however it was the only one available.

And while you had a ladder to overcome, Jimin had an elevator. The most he'd ever expend to reach that coveted floor was a few presses of a button. And perhaps his only sacrifice would be sharing the elevator with one or two others. Things just worked out for people like him. And an elevator’s delivery was always in a manner that was quicker than the likes of a staircase or a ladder.

When he arrived on set, dragging himself like his own body was a weight he shouldn't have to carry himself, you fought that instinct of yours to assume everything you needed to know from him.

Just because he's wearing sunglasses inside doesn't mean he's some arrogant asshole, even if that is the most cliché character trait of one. This internal lecture was certainly of Namjoon's doing, since he was always one to never run out of allotting the benefit of the doubt.

Yeah, I guess. But, come on, he looks like a fucking idiot. You replied as if he were really there before walking up to the callous man with your gauntlet thrown down by default. No need getting on Jimin's bad side, because you were sure it's complement was being blacklisted from the film industry. Instead of sharp edges you offered him a non-threatening smile and handshake.

Play nice. Namjoon reminded you before you had the chance to decide what you wanted to say.

"Hi! It's such an honor to be working with you. I'm ___." Jimin looked at your hand like you had filled it with mud and were intending on smearing his Gucci jacket, which you assumed was worth more than your monthly apartment rent. "Um, wanna touch base before we start shooting or..."

If his admonished glare at your hand wasn't encouragement enough to retract it back into yourself, then what he said, or more fittingly, what he didn't say next was.

The way his sigh infused a scoff within it made you feel small. It felt like fire, how thoroughly it burned you into a pile of ash, but then it felt like a gust of prickled wind that would scatter your remains completely. If it had not been for the way his head shifted from your head to your toe, you wouldn't have known that his shielded eyes were trailing the length of your body. Such a glare seemed like a calculation of your worth; it must have totaled out to that of a fly he had to swat away because the second you stood on the outside of his peripheries you stopped existing in his world altogether.

His back made a longer impression on you than his eyes, and that was your que to huddle yourself in the corner and stick to the two things you were best at.

Imaginary conversations with Namjoon and rerunning through your already memorized lines.

Before you say anything, I already think he's a prick. It might be pathetic to have instigated theoretical conversations with your dead boyfriend, but the world wouldn't know he would have scolded you first for already constructing an agenda to avoid Park Jimin whenever you could. You just felt an itch to lay down the first word.

You never know, maybe he had a bad day.

Yeah, well people like him don't need to be professional unlike the rest of us. I mean, I'm on the verge of openly conversing with you and I'm the one that has to turn the other cheek? Your script was decorated with a number of wrinkles. Proof that your anger was sleeping from your insides in the form of tightly gripped hands that were pretending to pinch Jimin's skin instead of the script. For once, you felt some grain-sized semblance of luck for having a grasp of acting to pull off pretending to love Jimin.

"Hey." You weren't quite thrilled to meet the person you had imagined pushing down a staircase standing over you. Without his glasses, it was difficult to remember why you had been so angry with him and you hated that. His eyes consisted of more than just irises and pupils, though you would not have been able to place what exactly accompanied these features. They were just eyes, after all, parts of a body. Functional. Mechanical facets of being. And yet, his seemed more than that. More than just sense mechanics. Perhaps beauty.

But for him to have been beautiful, it would have tainted the very idea of beauty.

"We're about to start shooting. Don't make this difficult, I'm trying to leave on time."

"Okay... Sure." Those were the two words you substituted for the 'fuck you' itching to crawl from your throat.

"I'm Jimin, but you know that already." The way he spoke was punctuated as though it was a waste of his time to spend any attention on you. If you weren't already drained of your strength from that tube of toothpaste that was some sort of paraphernalia of the night Namjoon became an article of your past, then you would have rolled your eyes or retorted with something that would knock him down a peg.

"I do." Your own weak will bothered you more than Jimin. "Um, I-"

"Let's not." Though he had no idea what you were about to say, a part of you agreed to not even indulge in small talk with him. It would be too forced and uncomfortable and that might leak into your performance on camera. Still, he had an abrasive way of going about it that made you want to disagree with him just to be able to lie contrary to him.

"Fine." It rolled off your tongue easily, like silk. His lingering eyes had you wondering if you somehow impressed him with your passive agreement or insulted him for not groveling for his approval. Either one would have satisfied you.

"Alright! Looks like you two got acquainted. We're jumping right in." The director, Kim Seokjin, was chirpy. Even if this project wasn't necessarily mainstream or highly anticipated, he was the type to salvage all his passion and pour it into anything he created. It comforted you knowing someone other than you found this to be somewhat life changing. "Please, Jimin, ___, on your marks. This is the scene where you two meet, so we're hoping you two can infuse that feeling of being slightly awkward but nevertheless enthralled in each other's presence. Got it?"

"Yessir." You said, and Jimin only produced a nod which seemed generous for him. Fighting the urge to snarl or squeeze your brows together came as a difficulty you had to practice at.

"Slate! Quiet on set..." Seokjin’s voice filled the empty space of the entire studio.

"Scene one, take one." Just as the snap of the slate reverberated through the room, your eyes changed just as abruptly. Your gaze upon the set transformed it into your reality. You looked at Jimin and now saw Laurie, a young soul filled with enough dreams and kindness one could have mistaken him for a cloud; the kind that spoke in loving whispers and gentle caresses. He reminded you a lot of someone else you knew.

You tucked Namjoon's voice away with the rest of your grief and became Jordan.

Amazing things seemed to happen when you least expected them too. You guessed that was the nature of amazing things, for if you expected them then they probably wouldn’t feel so amazing. About halfway through the scene, after a number of cuts, re-shoots, directorial notes, you noticed something. Or more so, this something willed you to notice.

Once you fell into stride with your character, it became easier to pick up on the person acting opposite of you. Maybe you hadn't given Jimin enough credit before. You knew maybe was an understatement, though you felt a sting admitting talent had fallen into his hands just as all his accomplishments had.

Jimin's acting rested on the side most polar to your own. You replicated, he revolutionized. You became your character, shrinking yourself enough so that one wouldn't have been able to tell who you were beyond who you were playing. Jimin, however, made the character his own. There was no minimizing his own body to fit into the mold of the character. Jimin was the mold, and he sculpted the character to fit along himself. He forged his movements, voice, and confidence into whichever role he played and brought life to someone strewn with a signature of his own soul polishing said character. All the while, he was inventive with each intention and emotion that were strung into his lines.

It was difficult to pull this off, being that you could easily begin to just play yourself in a movie and neglect any character mannerisms that you were supposed to portray, however Jimin seems to slip in and out of his role with ease. And with each take, he peppered in more dimensions to a character. He gave meaning and depth to a person constructed onto a paper script until you couldn't believe this person didn't exist in real life.

That was the amazing thing that kept your well-rehearsed lines behind an impermeable wall of reluctant admiration.

What hadn't helped, though seemed to have been timed to a tee to unwind your sensibility, and timing had always worked against you like you had done wrong to it, was the part when Laurie was written to sneak his hand along your waist after Jordan stepped backwards into his body.

His palm felt so warm. So warm that the entire world felt too cold for you to be anywhere but apart from his touch. Then, all your lines spilled from your recollection. He was standing close behind you, the plush of his cheek tickling your ear and sending the entire world away so you and he could reserve this moment just for yourselves.

"Your line." His whisper wouldn't be picked up by the mic, though it had no trouble debilitating the rest of your senses. Did he intend for it to blur any sort of attraction his character felt for you into the life beyond the camera?

The director called cut to the scene, and it felt like a lifetime before you were released from the entrapping heat of Jimin's body. When you spun around, hoping you could at least dig through your throat to pull out a deflated apology, the smirk laced along his lips illustrated every bit of his arrogance and once again shut you up.

From the way his eyebrow was arched, you assumed he must have read your mind. He knew what he did to you, and it reminded you of everything you disliked about Jimin. Presumptuous, prideful in his taunts. It also reminded you that he stood many floors above you in this architectural competition of acting. You were grabbing hold of each wrung as you went, unprepared for something as disarming as Jimin. All he had to do was peer down at the sight of you to make you feel a hundred times lower than him.

“___? What’s wrong?” You looked over to find Seokjin’s half worried, half irritated expression.

“No, nothing. Sorry, I just blanked for a second.” Jimin’s snide chuckle at your confession to a faulty performance didn’t help simmer the burn of embarrassment.

"It’s okay, I get it.” The director offered a smile as a peace offering, and since he looked not seven years older than you, it had you assuming he was the laid-back type. “Let's take five. We'll block a few of the scenes and finish the rest of this and we'll call it a day."

You made your nest over at the snack bar. Shoving half of a donut into your mouth had almost resurged your energy. Nayeon made a swift return to pat your face with more powder.

"Hey, you're pretty damn good." You were stuck with a mouthful of donut to null any chance of responding. "Except for when you kinda just shut down at that last scene."

You would have felt embarrassed, or rather more embarrassed than you currently did, if it weren't for the light laugh that followed. All you had to reply with was a shrug.

"I mean, I don't blame you. Jimin's pretty hot and if I were cozying up to him during a scene I'm sure I would also fuck up my lines." Nayeon finished applying whatever touch ups she felt necessary, not without a suggestive eye arch. This either meant she was going to shuffle over to another actor in need of visual repair or she would stay and talk. Her continued monologue advocating for Jimin's talents and good looks proved the latter was what you had in store. "I mean, damn. Also, I'm pretty sure he's got abs under that shirt. So, are you into him? Is that it?”

"It's not like that." The harsh delivery gave an impression contrary to what you said. "I mean, I just... He's just really good at this. I guess I got kinda intimidated."

Normally, you would have sought Namjoon's voice ringing in your head about how you could do this, reminding you how he believed in you. It would have gotten you through the scene however, Jordan didn't know Joon.

"Well, he won an Oscar for a reason, babe." You finished the rest of your donut and begun a prowl for another savory comfort food. "I mean, damn, twenty-five and already winning Oscars and getting nominations. It ain't for nothing."

"Yes, this is helping so much, thank you." You twisted in sarcasm as if that would make you seem any less intimidated. Again, Nayeon laughed off any shroud of roughness coating your words.

"What, do you want me to lie? Is that how you want to start this friendship, with lies?" Her elbow nudged you, and that alone communicated more than the brief exchanges you two shared. Now, you had a friend. Someone else to talk with that wasn't a figment of your own imagination.

Look at you, already making friends. Your smile was not as hidden as you attempted for it to be. Namjoon's little encouragements had that effect on you.

"What's that smile for?"

"Oh, nothing." You scarfed down the mini muffin, turning towards Nayeon. "Just happy my makeup artist goes easy on the blush."

She winked, and you felt ready to be sent back into the throes of this film. You weren't keen on Jimin feeling closer to a competitor than a partner in this project, however if that is how he wanted it to be, you were never one to submit so easily. You were determined to level this playing field, and your communion with victory felt like a well-deserved birthright.

"Thought I told you I wanted to go home on time, rookie." You watched his lips shape such venomous words, since his eyes, the unnamed, nearly beautiful presence, might have sunk you back into that state of speechlessness.

"I take it you're not a method actor, since Laurie is so sweet and you're a fucking ass." It felt good for all of one second before a series of reprimands fueled by none other than Namjoon now had you on the brink of apologizing.

"Feisty, huh?" Again, his lips eased out sharp words as if they would not nick the plump skin as it went.

You hoped Joon had nothing to say about how you were now tracing the lush of Jimin's lips. And yes, it had been six months, though you knew your love-ridden heart had yet to free its hands from grabbing hold of Namjoon, still, the feeling of attraction, no matter how brisk it might have been, felt like you were committing adultery. Adultery, over someone who was dead. You weren't the one who left him behind, and at the same time, you never got that shiny patent of closure. There was no break-up, so perhaps that was an explanation as to why your heart was foolishly stuck in love, never realizing its oath to loyalty was graced upon the deceased.

You thought of love now, while you were supposed to be getting into character. You thought of the one thing you once had held worn so easily, and now you had been chasing it knowing your legs weren’t enough to catch up.

There was a well in your eyes, supplied by the same source which fossilized a ragged lump in your throat. And you must have blinked twice as many times as you normally would since Jimin's eyebrows met halfway between his forehead as he watched you. Or, more disappointingly, he might have noticed your tendency to grow red in more places than just the whites of your eyes when you were about to cry. Holding those tears in hadn't helped with keeping your skin less flushed.

It frustrated you that he might have noticed, which only twisted you tighter into the verge of crying. You knew it was unlikely that his watchfulness of your pre-breakdown expression was due to a lapse of genuine concern. For all you knew, he was subtracting even more value from your worth, plummeting you into negative integers.

And if you weren't so dedicated to your craft, then you wouldn't have the ardor nor the ability to pull off acting like you loved him.

Nayeon is a good makeup artist, I think you have a thick enough cover of foundation and powder to hide it. That of course, along with any sliver of light in this dark tunnel, had always been attributed to Namjoon. He was the reason you kept going, the reason you had been able to get out of bed to drink a glass of water once in a while, the reason you did not completely break down every time a tube of toothpaste fell into your line of vision. Him and the memorialized voice was what chipped the lump free from your throat and dried your tears before they had the chance to spill.

"What-" Whatever motivated Jimin to ask you something had been gone almost immediately after it sprouted.

"Quiet on set!" There was no way you'd figure out what he was going to say if the director had mandated pre-shooting silence.

The rest of your day went accordingly. Nothing too devastating happened that cleared away the momentum of excitement of this being your first big role. Though, not that you weren't beyond grateful for this chance, you made a chore of reminding yourself to be aware of your good fortune.

And, with the help of a few well-placed improvisations that made you seem somewhat of a visionary in your craft, your previous mistake had been washed with water under the bridge in the director's eyes. It escalated your ego and confidence to watch Jimin scavenge for an unpracticed reaction to go along with the slight details or lines you infused into the scene. At a certain point, you could almost describe him as impressed with your acting. Maybe enough to bump your worth up a few decimals, not that that should be occupying your worries.

"Wow, ___! Look's like we hired the right thespian. Great work! By the looks of it, things will flow easier from here." The director, who you finally felt on a first name basis with, approached with a hug. Though, usually this would have sent red alerts, you could tell Seokjin had no ill intentions of the predatory type. "Also, you two have chemistry, but it's not quite there yet. I want this to be believable. There has to be some real life element of camaraderie if this story is going to be genuine."

"So, what exactly are you asking of us?" Jimin, of course, sounded all but thrilled with whatever Seokjin was suggesting even when it hadn't been specified yet. And though you hadn't expressed it outwardly, this aversion for what Seokjin has been suggesting was shared.

"I don't know, get to know each other? Method acting works usually. I mean, Jared Leto did it for that movie and he seemed pretty crazy." The attention was never yours to claim once Jimin had already pressed his phone to his ear and Seokjin was off reevaluating the shots taken today.

You were alone again. Surrounded by an entire crew and cast, but alone nonetheless. Your version of escapism was never as consistent as you needed it to be. All it took was a moment of stillness for you to drift into some place much darker than your current reality. Jordan was sealed away for now, and you were trapped in your own body. It felt horrible. Being you without the man who loved and cared for such a kindred soul felt no different than writhing in pain. Being you without him was empty. Before long, you might have fallen faint in front of your coworkers.

The only target you could acquire as of now was Jimin, taken away from the world for reasons much less burdensome than your own. Where you had a plight of grief to sift through, Jimin had a phone and most likely a supply of friends to text and busy himself with. Seokjin wanted you to get to know him, try your hand at method acting so to speak, and that was the excuse which allowed you to walk over and try to kindle some sort of conversation.

"Hey, so, uh..." The pause came to no avail, since it seemed as though you could have said nothing at all judging from his reaction. "Hey."

It took a fictitious clearing of your throat and three more seconds of unwavering silence to lure his eyes from his phone.

"What?"

As it had been for this entire day, everything involving Jimin was made to be some sort of challenge. A feat you had to overcome without an ounce of reprieve, just to remain standing.

"Seokjin said we should, like, get to know each other. Or, at least get along. I think that's a good idea." His eyes gave absolutely no clues to anything below the exterior of an expressionless face.

"Why are you trying so hard?" You waited for him to laugh, or even for a laugh of your own to slip and loosen the tension. A laugh to make what he just said a joke, victimless banter, because it would have been wildly insulting if that were the most genuine thing he had said to you all day.

"What the hell does that mean?" Your arms were crossed as if that would keep your heart safe from his cruel tactlessness.

"I'm not taking this shit seriously." He laughed, but it wasn't the one that you wanted previously. It sunk wounds deeper, with such a dull edge too. "It's just a side job so people think I'm humble, or whatever my manager said."

The puzzle began to piece together, it took this admittance from Jimin for the picture to emerge from ambiguity. This movie was some form of damage control for his reputation, and that might be because your accurately placed criticisms of his lackluster humbleness did not stand solitarily. Your big break had been reduced to a convenient plot of image reconstruction. You were familiar with anger, it was one of your trickier stages of grief to surmount, but it still affected you to the same degree as before.

He didn't expect a response. You could gather that much from the way he instantly turned back to his phone, rendering you nonexistent once again. Namjoon would have told you to remain civil. But Namjoon was gone. It hurt to think that way, but if his voice hadn't emerged to mitigate this situation now, then Jimin was yours for the taking.

"You're a fucking ass." It seems brash was the only approach to seize immediate attention from Jimin. His eyes widened as if you had grown twice as large and the vision of you wouldn't fit in his narrowed, judgmental glare. "This may be a joke or a throw away gig for you, but this means a lot to me."

"Wanna back off, Jesus. I only-"

"No, I don't wanna back off. I haven't had the best year, and having a co-star that treats me like shit isn't really helping either. And, I get it, you're some sort of elitist who thinks they earned their success." You scoffed, tethering his eyes with yours as though there were a string tying them together. And with each step closer you took, the knot only secured tighter. "But people like you, men like you, don't do shit to earn where they are. But it's so cute the way you think you did! Truly, it's embarrassing watching you flaunt your ego around like you actually have something to be proud of."

"So it's like that, huh? You know, I was almost starting to respect you." The fact that his delivery suggested this was some sort of badge of honor made him all the more pathetic. You should not have put it past Jimin to boast over paying a fundamental level of respect where it's due.

"Wow," You doused a generous layer of sarcasm over your throat so the words came out so. "Basic human decency? From you? How can I ever repay you for such kindness?”

"I said almost."

"You're pathetic."

"Like you're one to talk."

"Yeah, well at least I don't pretend I'm hot shit." The tip of your shoes finally closed the gap between his. Again, you were snared in his warmth, however it didn't feel as tranquil as before. Now, it was closer to a pot of boiling water, evaporating flesh and bone until you were steam floating along the air, bendable and displayed out thinly.

"You don't pretend because you're just that bad of an actor, huh?"

It suffocated you, being this close with him; the blurry details of his face became sharp this way. His eyes were hypnotically watchful of your lips, preparing for your next gambit. You surrendered only a smirk, hoping it would antagonize him. And you could have sworn standing at the furthest point of the Earth from Jimin wouldn't appease this invasive thronging. The universe had yet to expand wide enough to provide an acceptable distance away from him. Until then, you were left with shallow bouts of breath tasting of metallic hatred, hoping those would alchemize into words that would make you seem more intimidating that you really were.

"Please, I could act circles around you. Your performance is transparent. Anyone with a scope of the basics of acting could see through you."

"Is that so?" You hated how quick you had been to notice his tongue slip along his lower lip. He must have found this delicious, patronizing someone who only had 'friend number five' or 'cashier' as proof of their employment. Jimin was greedy, devouring all the blood spilled from his wounding retorts.

In some perverse way, being the focus of his attention had you feeling fulfilled. Jimin, the man commonly sought after among the demographic of teenagers and middle-aged women. Not only were you proving your merits of qualification to act alongside him, but you had something to prove to yourself. You weren't going to let Jimin push you around without pushing him right back. You were strong enough to fight. It seemed to have come natural to you to enjoy provoking anger in him. It felt as if you were finally accomplishing something that was unattainable to anyone else.

And even if you wanted to retreat, his gaze guaranteed your obedience. It was a battle, along with every other exchange you have had with him. Even when silence was the only parcel between you two, when the only semblance of noise was heavy, jaded inhales, it felt as though you and he were at wits to gather more air than the other. To see who would fall breathless first.

"You're pathetic." His words hit like physical blows, and you might have had to check for bruises along your ribs and torso from the churning sensation in your stomach.

"If I'm pathetic, I don't know what that makes you." You wanted your rebuttal to feel like fire. You wanted to scorch and sear blisters along his flawless skin for proof of any successful hit. “A privileged boy with enough of daddy’s money to get him any job he wants. But, I’m the pathetic one?”

He appeared unscathed, with one end of his lips rugged upwards, mocking you without needing any of the words to do so. Perhaps he'd gotten the best of you, as you were searching through your arsenal of refutes only to find it overspent. It would not have surprised you to discover his supply of acidic insults piling without a visible dent.

His eyes looked fully employed in studying you, and you felt disrobed to be under such scrutiny from a stranger. Jimin seemed to have been reading you like words on a page, armed with a twisted smile that was unnervingly addictive, but you tried your hardest to keep your book closed. You didn’t want him to know how weak you really were.

"God, you're so-"

"Oh, great! Both of you are still here." Seokjin's voice reminded you that there was a world of events beyond you and Jimin. For a moment, you had felt secluded into a universe constructed especially for any collateral destruction that might have come of whatever war was about to be waged. "I have some notes for you two. Go home, read, digest, and come prepared tomorrow! I have full confidence in the two of you."

"Thanks." Succinct yet not lacking any tonal sentiment, Jimin got the first word in with the director, leaving you scrambling to find yours.

"Thank you." You were frustrated in how recycled your responses felt after Jimin handled them. Actors like you always fed on scraps of the higher-ups, and they were never as appetizing or filling as you would hope.

"See ya, ___." Your name sounded awful on his tongue, like his voice had filtered out the good parts of it and the waste remained spilling from his lips. Like dirt or decayed flesh, or both, and saying your name was akin to saying a slur.

"Fuck you." Those words couldn't sift through your screwed jaw or muffled throat, but it gave you satisfaction that it had been said in the slightest.

It wasn't until you were halfway to the bus stop that the realization pummeled you down a hole you hadn’t recollected being dredged. That whole time, what might have been the product of a mere ten minutes, was the longest segment you had gone without thinking of him.

It was the most intimately you had ever engaged in a conversation with someone other than the late, imagined voice in your head. And it was the most you've gone without consulting with said voice before speaking. You simply spoke, and listened, and responded; like you were normal. You couldn't tell whether that was good, because maybe you would finally be able to move forward with the world, perhaps catch up with the life you were supposed to be living. But, at the same time, the guilt festering something acrid in the pit of your stomach had you convinced this wasn't entirely sunny skies and bright futures.

"I'm sorry." What frightened you, besides your mental slip to keep the words meant for Namjoon in your head, was the unreturned sound of his ringing through. It took the longest ten seconds of your life for the mental silence to be furtively trimmed by your own train of thoughts.

Jimin had done this to you, that you were entirely sure of. Jimin and his carnivorous tongue and greedy glare had drained your head of its second conscious. The one it had adopted when Namjoon's body could no longer harbor it. And that's how he lived on, through you.

Jimin took that away, somehow. You could almost kill him for it, but you had not favored a life in prison nor tabloids that headlined the Park Jimin being murdered or 'Crazy, Jealous Co-star On Murderous Rampage Targets Jimin'. So, for the time being, all that was accessible was quiet hatred.

And you took that over nothing. You hated Park Jimin.

#bangtanarmynet #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #bts fanfic #bts writing #bts angst #bts x reader #bts series #jimin fanfic #jimin angst #jimin enemiestolovers!au #actor!jimin #jimin x reader #jimin series #bts enemies to lovers #in the stars tonight #rubycoast

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lacepockets · 6 months ago

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To elaborate on this, in case you actually care (I don't think you do, because you just sounded like you were trying to make me feel bad about my opinions):

Clannad's themes of forming connections with people even when it isn't easy, and living your life beyond trauma, abuse, and grief, and how that togetherness with others can not only help heal you and those around you it also has the capability of creating miracles... It really resonated with me, especially at the time, when I was struggling with my own sense of self and purpose in my life. I related to those characters.

Umineko which I love dearly as well, came much later (2004 for Clannad vs 2010 for Umineko's conclusion), and it does have a lot of the same themes, because such themes are fairly common in eastern media. But the way the story is told in Clannad is more grounded in reality and thus easier for me to see myself in/relate to. Its characters are easier, because the main characters aren't written with a focus on how effed up people can be with sufficient motives, like they are in Umineko. I think that that's a very interesting and important thing to explore in fiction, but it doesn't exactly lend itself to resonating in the same way. And that's okay! Because different stories have different importance to different people 🙂

But, with respect... the "misery porn" angle is just kind of silly, honestly — Clannad is a story about hope, and you cannot experience hope without despair. Besides if you want to go that route, it can be argued anyway that Umineko is worse on the "misery porn" scale because almost every real character dies and there isn't any truly happy ending after everything, after all the abuse and traumatic backstories. The Ushiromiya family is full of terrible people, and even though you learn why they are the way they are, it doesn't and shouldn't actually make them any less terrible. They're all great characters with amazing writing and frankly (in most cases) understandable motives and mentalities... but they're still godawful human beings with the exception of just a few of them.

Yasu isn't allowed to live no matter what Battler does, so in the course of her life, her hopes and dreams don't really convey an actually hopeful message. They serve as coping mechanisms for her extreme self-hatred and perceived lack of a purposeful existence, and help her through her own trauma... but as she isn't able to actually live out her dreams in the end, it's not a very hopeful situation. Not to mention Battler and Ange end up shouldering the burden of everything that happened on Rokkenjima, a weight that entirely crushes Battler to the point that he feels like "Battler" died with Yasu, and he and Ange both have to carry that weight functionally alone.

Again, I emphasize, I love Umineko dearly, I really do. I will absolutely go to bat for it. It's one of my favorite pieces of media ever created and the story is beautiful in its own, tragic right. But Clannad's presentation of its messages and aversion of complete tragedy is why it's so important to me and why, for me, it gets so many high spots.

i have no idea how you could place clannad ANYWHERE on that vn chart if you've read umineko omfg. clannad is anti-heterosexuality misery porn birth control in the form of a story and umineko is one of the best things that have ever been written. you look at the writers and how ryukishi07 has been going strong for yeaaaaars and jun maeda dropped the pen never to be found after he was told he couldn't write porn stories anymore. be serious

I love Umineko a lot, it's absolutely one of my favorite stories ever written! I agree that it's one of the best things ever written, and ryukishi is amazing. 😊 Clannad has just been very personally important to me for many years (especially the anime, but the VN was great too), so it gets several spots on my chart. ♥

#personal #ask #umineko #clannad #also comparing Jun Maeda and ryukishi07 was just ?????#i never cared a lick about who wrote clannad #that and whatever 'anti-heterosexuality' means were some weird points #'anti-heterosexuality birth control' isn't exactly when a straight couple get married and have a child and a happy life in the end

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ahiddenpath · 4 years ago

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If you could give Daisuke, Miyako, and Iori their own crests, what would they be?

This is a really tough one! I do love that they “inherited” crests; the whole “these kids gets mentors” was so cute? A great way to bring back the older kids in a meaningful way. I personally think the 02 crew “had it together” in ways the original crew... kind of didn’t, lol! But they did have a lot of benefits (ability to go home, Koushiro as an advisor, mentors, two members who already knew what was going on, etc).

I also really love the observation that Adventure emphasized individual development (finding and earning and internalizing their crest traits, evolution is triggered by understanding yourself) and 02 emphasized team development (jogress/evolution triggered by strong bonds between teammates, inheriting wisdom from the ones who came before). So... I guess I hate to mess with that? But I do also see the appeal of giving them their own traits...

THIS GOT INCREDIBLY LONG, but it’s a really cool post, I think! So please read on beneath the cut!

Daisuke

Honestly, I think miracles works pretty well? I’ve heard people say that Daisuke just... Does whatever he wants/follows his gut, and it tends to work out; ie he’s more “lucky” than “an effective leader.”

Personally, I... Truly admire Daisuke’s faith and optimism and just... Just raw belief in everyone? I have anxiety, so sometimes my brain loves to tell me that a thing I’ve done a million times with no problems will somehow explode in my face. Can you imagine just... Choosing to always believe, and acting like everything will be okay? I don’t mean “sticking your head in the sand and going LALALA THIS IS FINE,” I mean taking action without hesitation, even when things are scary.

Like, yeah, maybe that’s not always valid IRL- you need to plan and be realistic and accept and reevaluate when your plan isn’t working- although I’d argue that Daisuke learned to do that over the course of the series (I remember him saying the team should rest at some point, and everyone was surprised that he didn’t want to press on, except Ken).

But I also maintain that Daisuke’s ability to believe in himself, his team, and just a general “things will be okay” is what creates success that almost seems... miraculous!

Also, I think he is suuuch a great meld of courage and friendship, because he pushes on when things are scary (courage) and is able to do so because he believes in everyone (friendship).

So, I’m thinking something like faith/confidence/trust. And having listed some similar-ish words...

I’m going with trust.

What incredible things you can do, when you believe in yourself, your team, and the future.

Miyako

I’ve seen other people assign her the crest of “passion,” which I think is great!

I think the thing about Miyako is that she’s, like... Always on, always 150%, so dynamic and vibrant and just... her cup overflows with energy and... Miyako-ness.

It’s clear to see how she relates to her “purity” side. It took me a long time to understand what I think the crest of purity means, thanks to a lot of... ickiness around the word “pure” in western tradition, which is also why I am loathe to throw the word “innocence” into my definition. Basically, I think the crest of purity means that Mimi and Miyako don’t dissemble/hide how they really feel. You’re always getting their raw, honest truth. And, because Mimi in particular is spoiled, she can come off as childish- which is where people like to throw in the word “innocent.”

[The general selfishness of children is related to them not knowing yet that they aren’t the center of the world- psychologically; Freud would call it “being ruled by the id.” It’s just a developmental stage, and doesn’t really indicate actual selfishness. You know how Winnie the Pooh is a sweetheart, but can make things miserable for other people by just assuming he can help himself to everything?]

But Mimi also displays a child’s heart in terms of being kind and sweet and sensitive and wanting to help... and then swinging back towards the id at the drop of a dime, lol!

Like Mimi, Miyako is very comfortable giving her opinion and drawing attention to herself, and she doesn’t seem to be holding herself back... But we do eventually see that things can weigh on her, and that she’s sometimes putting up a front when her energy actually isn’t at 150%.

I think the “love” part is a bit harder to pin down, but then... The word “love” is incredibly vague, and means a million different things to different people, which is why I kind of hate discussing the crest of love! I like to think of it as “the crest of compassion” to focus discussions; sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it.

It’s kind of funny to think of Miyako with the crest of love compared to Sora. Sora tends to show love by watching over people, being kind and supportive and brave even when she’s struggling and hiding the signs of her struggle/dismissing her own struggles, doing things for others, often without even letting people know she did anything.

In comparison, Miyako shows compassion by being present for people she loves, telling them bluntly when they need to shape up (which, frankly, a lot of Digimon characters really need. We need waaaaaay less staring into each other’s faces and never answering concerned questions and waaaaaaay more *slap* GET IT TOGETHER! God, ilu Miyako), and being honest and open about how much she cares for them.

So yeah, passion!

Iori

One of my favorite Chosen, this sweet good boy that I lovelovelovelove!

So one thing about Iori is that, while I can write big honkin’ analysis of how Daisuke and Miyako show their inherited crests... Um, I think Iori is his own thing. Like, I don’t... super get honesty and knowledge off of him. I mean, the honesty thing, sure. His Grandpa taught him not to lie, we had a whole ep based on that alone. As for knowledge, yes, he wants to know the truth and get to the bottom of things.

But... Neither crest ever felt like a slam dunk for him? Even though it’s easy to see how “honesty” and “knowledge” coalesce into “a desire for truth,” which is further illustrated in his career as a (presumably upright and truth-seeking) lawyer. Like, it’s right there in front of your face, Hidden!

BUT LEMME PULL UP A CHAIR, CAPTAIN AMERICA STYLE, AND HASH WITH YOU.

The thing that, to me, stands out about Iori most is that he’s grounded and centered. Have you seen that post recently that explains how Daisuke tried, just one time, to treat Iori like a little kid (he says, “shut up, little brat”)? And Iori- who is about three years younger than Daisuke, and much more withdrawn- politely but firmly replies, “Please don’t talk to me like that.”

AND YOU KNOW WHAT? DAISUKE APOLOGIZES AND NEEEEVER TALKS DOWN TO IORI AGAIN.

Iori is like... He’s like eight, my dudes! Rolling with a bunch of eleven-ish year olds! He’s personal friends with Miyako, a twelve year old, before Adventure 02 even opens! And we don’t often see him being doted on and protected like Takeru and Hikari were in the same situation.

YOU WANNA KNOW WHY? The simple answer is that he’s mature, but I wanna say that he’s grounded, the ultimate earth sign type (I think Digmon is a pretty clear metaphor). He doesn’t get flustered or swayed. He knows where he is, where he stands, what he must do. On the one hand, this makes him mature beyond his years, reliable, able to stand up for himself and be an equal team mate among kids who are older than him.

The downside is that “that which cannot bend must break.” I’m sure you’ve read a zillion metas about how Iori sees in black-and-white originally and has trouble changing his world views and learning to forgive... But he does all of those things, maturing further into possibly just... just... Can you even imagine him as an adult?! HE’S TOO POWERFUL.

So, if he were an Adventure character, I’d say that his crest is integrity, and he has to go through his adventure to learn what that really means for him- to develop from stubborn, black-and-white thinking to true integrity.

THANKS FOR THE ASK!

#02 crew #digimon meta #crests for daisuke miyako iori #faves #daisuke motomiya #miyako inoue #iori hida #Anonymous

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go-go-devil · 4 years ago

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The White Eye of Emeritus

Alright motherfuckers, it’s been too damn long since I last posted any Ghost headcanons, so here’s my own lore about the white eye we’ve come to know and love, specifically how it first came to be as well as the dubious origins of how the Emeritus “family” was created!

Since this is over 1,000 words I’m gonna submit this as part of Emeritober this year, since I quite like this one. Also available to read on AO3!

Strap in folks, this is basically gonna be a Demon Pope history lesson!

TW: Mentions of sexism and body horror

Of all the traits that each of the abbey’s unholy popes possessed, there are none as unifying and diabolical as that of The White Eye. Always on the left eye, always as pale as the full moon, it is the ultimate symbol for which one reveals their unyielding devotion to Lucifer and all the Great Demons that serve under Them, and it is through this property that each Papa is granted the ability to perform black magic in our mortal realm.

It was a gift first earned by The Original Papa Emeritus Nihil back during the Middle Ages, after the sacking of their original abbey in Florence. Even after the surviving Siblings of Sin were left without a home or leader (their first elected pope having been captured and subsequently burned at the stake), his devotion to the art of black magic and natural leadership skills played a significant role in helping the survivors make their exodus to the north. Upon settling in Linköping he found himself powerful enough to attempt a direct contact with The Olde One, asking for Them to grant him the magic of Hell itself as a means of assuring his people’s prosperity in this new land.

His request was granted. He used his magic given to him by The Eye to summon the first ghouls into our Earthly plane, and with their superior strength and elemental powers they helped construct the Unholy Abbey of Linköping for the Siblings of Sin to reside and worship in. With the further aid of these ghouls alongside the skills of many witches, he then weaved a dark mist to shield the abbey from discovery by those who fought for God, granting access only to those who wished to serve the Will of Satan. Those Christians back in Florence had mockingly named their previous pope “Papa Emeritus” after his forced retirement, so Nihil chose to keep the name to show how even death cannot stop one so devoted to the devil, and thus the unholy title of all future Papas had been born!

Now as to how The Eye can be earned, well… this is where things get complicated.

For a long time, there were no consistent guidelines for electing someone as the next Papa. Some were able to perform either the same or similar contact rituals that the original Emeritus 0 was able to do, those of which were always incredibly dangerous and could violently kill the seeker attempting spiritual communication with Hell. There were even others that had arrived already possessing this white eye by some chance supernatural event, having instinctively searched out the Unholy Abbey through supernatural guidance, although these cases are significantly rarer.

As for gaining The Eye via rituals, the only criteria they had back in the olden days were that the person needed to have lived and studied in the abbey for at least 10 years and completed seminary, be highly skilled in the art of black magic, and needed to possess a penis (The Serpent with Which They Could Use to Deceive). Unfortunately, sexism in regards to leadership roles affected even the protofemenist teachings of the Satanic Church for the longest time, and nowadays the abbey is sure to teach of the multiple women & trans men of the clergy who most likely did possess the abilities needed to become Papa but were not allowed to.

Well to be fair, there were two Papas elected that were not cis men: an intersex person and a woman, those being The Original Papa Emeritus Secondo and Terzo respectively. Emeritus II was "traditionally masculine" enough to be allowed an attempt at the contact, while Emeritus III had come to them already possessing The Eye, and thus they could not ignore her rightful title (although they did still refer to her through he/him pronouns, stubborn bastards....).

And that's how it was for much of the abbey's history. Emeritus was merely a title to denote whichever random person was lucky enough to achieve it, nothing more. However, everything changed during the early 1800’s when a single idea dawned on the current Papa of the time. The previous two Papas before him had both happened to be his father and grandfather, so if that were the case, would that mean that the power of The Eye could be inherited?

Testing his Lamarckist hypothesis, he waited until both his sons had come of age and then forcibly subjected them to the contact ritual under the implication that their bloodline would automatically grant them access to this magic, which caused one to die horribly and the other to successfully be gifted with the coveted white eye. Through the combination of this “successful discovery” alongside a desperation to reclaim the earthly magic that was starting to disappear as well as the backing of an upper clergy becoming more and more corrupted with each passing decade, the title Emeritus had been officially morphed into a dynasty.

Perhaps there was some truth in the inheritable properties of magic, since more Papas were made from that starting lineage. Yet when put into perspective, the costs of this practice were truly far too great to justify the means.

Dozens upon dozens of teenage boys were subjected to these premature contact rituals and suffered disgusting, needless deaths at the hands of their fathers, all in the hopes of finding the one “worthy” heir to the Papacy. Harems, which were once simply a source of pleasure for a Papa, became a mandatory method of producing enough sons. These women were impregnated so often that many ended up dying from birth complications, and those who were able to successfully give birth either had to raise their daughters all on their own or risk seeing their sons bodies be twisted and shredded beyond recognition after an unsuccessful ritual.

Our current day Nihil had four brothers before him; three whom he never knew, and one he was forced to forget. They did prove to be failures after all, so why memorialize them? It truly was nothing short of a miracle that he was able to survive the ritual at such a young age. Once he got The Eye and all the magic it provided him, along with the aid of one Sister of Sin allied to his cause, he wasted no time in usurping his wicked father. To further emphasize his separation from his father's legacy, he reset his title back to Emeritus 0 as a symbol of how he was going to lead the Satanic Church into a new Golden Age, one where he would never subject his heirs to such needless destruction.

Ironic how he ended up accidentally achieving what his own father always dreamed of: three sons that proved themselves apt enough to survive the ritual and earn The Eye. Granted, he did forbid his children from attempting the contact until they had fully developed their knowledge of black magic and had completed seminary, but it is quite intriguing how he managed to produce this many heirs to the Papacy in such a short span of time.

Could an outside force had helped him in some way, possibly enhancing the heritability of his magic with supernatural means for the sake of their achieving their own ends?

…

Of course not! Who could possibly do something like that?

#papa nihil #the papas #ghost headcanons #the band ghost #emeritober2020 #my headcanon #my writing #if anyone's wondering #Copia was born with the eye #and Sister Imperator's connected to the mystery of Nihil's magic fertility #girl needs her a good vessel!#and if anyone's wondering why I refer to Lucifer as 'they' and not 'he'#it's because I want to make my worldbuilding more of my own thing #and don't want people thinking I really know what I'm talking about #when it comes to the actual practices of Satanism #I'm far from an expert in that field!

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hermionemonica · 5 years ago

Text

Cause I knew I was in love with you (when we sat in silence): Marichat May 2020 - Day 12

AO3 | For the @marichatmay

Collab with @lalunaoscura

DAY 1 | <- 11 | 12 | 13 ->

Day 12 — Kwami Swap

“Good evening, Chat Noir,” Ladybug got up to her feet, “Are you ready for patrol?”

“Actually,” he scratched his neck, “can I talk to you about something?”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Is something wrong?”

“No no!” He waved his hands wildly in an attempt to emphasize the “no". “It's just,” he hesitated, “I have a favor to ask.”

“Yes?”

“I had a conversation with my kwami earlier today, and he had some grievances.” Adrien cared for Plagg, he really did, but that did not change that this was probably going to be a very awkward conversation. “Plagg thinks that it is unfair that Tikki gets to spend time with the other kwamis but he cannot meet his friends from the miracle box.”

Ladybug had never really thought about it. But now that she did, she could sympathise with the poor kwami. “So,” her voice was softer, gentler, “does Plagg want to stay with me for a while?”

“Actually, as a matter of fact, he had a better plan.”

“And what is that?”

“A kwami swap.”

“What?”

“I mean,” Chat was clearly nervous, “You and I swap kwamis for a few days. Plagg goes with you, and Tikki comes with me. That way, we won't be inconvenienced in case of an akuma attack.”

That was a pretty smart idea actually. “I’m ready.”

“You are?” He had not expected it to be this easy.

“Yes.” She replied easily. “I know I would be lonely if I were separated from my friends for so long. Besides,” she went on, “I think it will be a good opportunity for us to get accustomed to each other's powers, in case of another Reflekdoll situation.”

“You always think of everything, m' lady,” Chat smirked. “That is why I love you so much.”

She responded with a giggle and a blush. “So, is it okay for you tonight?”

“What?”

“The kwami swap. Is it okay for you tonight?”

“Oh. Yes, yes. Perfectly fine.”

Ladybug looked around. “That chimney,” she pointed at a nearby roof. “You take the right and I'll go left.”

“Aye-aye.”

They swung and vaulted over, and took positions.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

“No peeking okay?”

“Your word is my command, m' lady.”

“Detransformation!” They called out together.

Marinette held a little conversation with her kwami on her side of the chimney.

“Will you be okay, Tikki?” Ladybug whispered.

“Don't worry about me!” Tikki reassured her. “You have fun with Plagg!”

“Alright,” she smiled as her kwami hugged her cheek. “See you in a week. And make sure Chat behaves himself.”

“I can totally hear you, by the way.” A voice floated over from the other side of the chimney.

“Haha, sorry.” Marinette stuck out her tongue.

Without looking out from behind the chimney, both of them placed their Miraculous on the side and picked up the other's.

“Transforme moi!”

“Looking good, m' lady!” Mister Bug winked at her as she emerged.

“You don't look so bad either, m' Lord!” Lady Noire teased back.

It was so not fair that she could still make his heart race like that!

“So, patrol?” She suggested.

“Actually,” he took a glance at his yo-yo phone. “I think it's going to be okay tonight. And it's late anyway.”

Lady Noire knew what he was getting late for. To be honest, she wasn't very eager either to cut off on those times. “Alright then,” she announced, “let's call it a night.”

“Thank you m' lady.” Mister Bug did a salute. “Oh, and don't let Plagg give you much trouble!”

“Don't worry, we are going to have a lot of fun!”

“Hey, don't trust that little imp!”

“Don't you badmouth that cute kitty!”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “Tell me after a week.”

“Good evening Princess!” Mister Bug announced as he swung up onto Marinette's balcony.

“Hello Chat Noir,” Marinette rested her elbows on the railing behind her, “I see you are Mister Bug today, huh?”

“How did you recognize me?” he exclaimed.

“Uh- you know Alya, the ladyblogger, my best friend?” Marinette diverted her gaze in nervousness. “She was the one who told me!”

“Huh, that makes sense.” His shoulders drooped. Did he sound disappointed? “And I was thinking I would give you a nice little surprise.”

Oh, so that was the thing. “Poor boy,” she pouted playfully, “Don’t be sad! You did surprise me! I mean, I have never seen Mister Bug up close!”

“You're right!” His features immediately lightened up, making Marinette feel happy too. “So do you like it?” He spun around and flexed and struck half a dozen poses in front of her. “Don't my abs look great in this suit?”

Not that she had not noticed it already, but now it was kinda difficult to tear her gaze away from there. She knew Chat Noir was pretty ripped, having slept in the same bed as her for quite some time now. But she could not deny that the lighter colours and the spots accentuated his physique much better.

“What is the matter Princess?” Mister Bug stepped forward and leaned down so they stood almost nose to nose. With a nasty smirk, he went on, “Did I put you on the spot with that?”

No Marinette, get a hold of yourself! You are not attracted to him!

“That's okay,” she put her finger on her nose and gently pushed his face away. Then ruffling his hair a bit, she said with a smirk, “I prefer you in leather anyway.” With that, she marched down the skylight, hoping he would not hear how fast her heart was beating.

Mister Bug stood there, frozen in his spot. He could feel his cheeks were on fire. What did she just say?

He slowly climbed down through the skylight. “Did you just-"

“-quote Frozen 2 to you?” Marinette hurriedly finished for him. “Yeah.”

“Right, right. That’s exactly what I was going to say.” That was so not what he was going to say.

They both stood in silence six feet apart for a few minutes, until Marinette decided she had had enough. “So, no purrs tonight?” she cooed.

That did seem to work in relieving the tension considerably. “I’m afraid not, my Princess.” He closed his eyes and called for his detransformation. Marinette saw that he was wearing the black cat hoodie and mask. “But I will always be Chat Noir to you.”

You will always be Chat Noir to me.

Marinette felt her knees wobble as icy blue flashed in front of her eyes. Fortunately, Chat was right there to catch her.

“Hey Mari, are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s- I’m just a little tired.”

“Let’s go to bed then, okay?” He picked her up in his arms. Marinette loved his smell. She leaned against his chest.

“Hey Chat Noir?”

Chat Noir turned his head to look into her eyes. “Yes?”

Green. Emerald green eyes. Not blue.

“Nothing.”

His brows furrowed up for a moment before his lips broke into a warm smile. “You’re acting off. Let’s get you to bed.”

As they lay side by side on the bed, Marinette lifted herself up on one side, resting her head on her elbow. “So, what’s with the change?”

Chat was lying on his back. “Oh,” he said, “it was just a little thing me and Ladybug came up with.” Suddenly his eyes lit up. “Hey, you haven’t met Tikki, have you?”

She had done more than just met her, but of course Chat didn’t need to know that. “Is that your kwami?”

“Yes!” Chat sat up. “And she is the cutest little thing ever, you have to meet her!”

“Sure, why not.”

“Hey Tikki,” he called out, “are you asleep?”

“Is anything wrong, Mister Bug?” she emerged from the headboard.

“No everything’s fine,” Chat assured her, “I just wanted you to meet my friend.”

Tikki twirled around in the air to face Marinette.

“Marinette, this is Tikki, the kwami of creation.” He made the introductions.

“Hello Marinette.” Tikki smiled at her.

“And Tikki, this is Marinette, and I’m sure you’ll love her because she is also a goddess of creation.”

“Chat!”

“It’s not wrong!” He laughed. Marinette rolled her eyes and turned back to Tikki.

“Nice to meet you, Tikki.” Marinette opened her palm so that Tikki could rest on it. She used her other hand to tickle her belly which made her giggle. “You are cute.”

She turned to look at Chat and just caught a fraction of a second of what she assumed was him staring at her lovingly. He looked away almost as soon as she looked, but from his flustered expression she could guess that she wasn’t wrong. A light pink colour came to her cheeks at the thought.

“It’s late,” Tikki spoke up, “I think we should all get some sleep.”

“You are right, Tikki,” Chat agreed. The little kwami floated over to Chat Noir to hug his nose, before floating back to her (usual) perch on the headboard.

“Come on, Princess,” he spread his arms, “I may not have purrs, but I have cuddly arms!”

“Silly cat,” Marinette giggled, but she was not turning down the invitation.

“You know,” she murmured as she rested her head on his chest, “you look kinda hot wearing those ear-rings.”

“H-hot?” Chat Noir squeaked. “Did you just say hot?”

“Good night kitty-cat!” Marinette buried her chest in the folds of his shirt as she smiled to herself. She loved making her Chat Noir flustered like that.

Her Chat Noir. She liked the sound of that.

#miraculous ladybug #marichatmay2020 #day 12: kwami swap #collaboration #lalunaoscura #marichat #cause i knew i was in love with you (when we sat in silence)#ml fanfic #my fic

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ooohyou · 3 years ago

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Submitted to r/nosleep by u/NemesisLuce

Please support the original author.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. Cute little bookstore in a quaint little town. I love helping customers find the right book for their mood. I love showing cute children’s books to curious kids. I love talking with sales reps and figuring out exactly which new releases to order from them.

I also fucking hate my job.

It was ten minutes past closing time, and I had my brightest, fakest smile on while trying to get the last customer out of my store. No sir, I cannot look up a book on the computer if all you know is the cover was red when you saw a poster for it 5 years ago. No sir, “I think it was about the cold war and a detective who drank too much but maybe it was something else” does not help me at all. Look sir, all my historical thrillers are on this shelf. Does anything ring a bell? No? Was it made into a movie? You don’t know? Oooookaaaay then, I’m sorry to inform you that we are already past closing time, here’s the store number, if you remember the title give us a call and we’ll order it for you if it’s still available. Thank you, good evening to you too sir, goodbye. Yes you have your umbrella, it’s right here in your hand sir. Okay bye bye.

I sighed and gave my cashier the biggest eyeroll I could manage before locking the door and turning over the sign that previously said ‘come in, we’re open!’. I heard the coins clanking in the coin counting machine (do these have a name? I don’t know. Coin counting machine is pretty self-explanatory and I’ve never bothered to check if they were actually called that), signifying that Alice had started to sort her cash drawer. I would only need to take out the profits of the day, make sure she had enough cash for tomorrow, and send her home. I went through the motions mechanically, only thinking about the nap I was about to have in the breakroom. It was going to be glorious. I really needed it if I wanted to be alert for the night shift.

Oh, yeah. We’ve got a night shift here. It’s my store’s most… peculiar aspect. We close at 6pm, but we open again at 11, up until 5am. Then we open again at 10am. So when I said ‘nap’ earlier, I actually meant the first half of my night, since I am working both shifts. Yes, I live in my store. Please buy books instead of reading stuff on the Internet, I would really love to be able to afford another employee.

So there I was, counting money fully on autopilot, daydreaming about drinking a nice cup of herbal tea and hugging my pillow, when Alice said something that ruined my plans.

“I forgot to tell you, something weird happened when you were on break.”

I snapped out of my daydream instantly and shot her a questioning glare.

“Yeah, this old lady came in, looking for something about fairy tales. I showed her the section but she didn’t want to have a look there apparently, and she asked me about something from the back. And I was like ‘do you think we’re hiding books from our customers or something’ so I just told her everything we had was on display in the store but we could order any book we didn’t have if she wanted. And she just shook her head and mumbled something and then she handed me this pamphlet and I was like ‘okay feel free to look around’ and didn’t even look at the pamphlet before shoving it in my pocket because a kid entered the store holding an open juice box and that was a disaster waiting to happen so yeah but that was weird right?”

She had actually run out of breath by the end of her sentence, and I wasn’t surprised. I was pissed though.

“Alice for FUCKS sake. Give me the pamphlet, don’t look at it. I’ll write that you were fired because of the store’s financial situation and give you a glowing recommendation.”

All color drained from the young girl’s face. I wasn’t mad at her, but I was still mad. She was supposed to know the rules. Hell, I even had her train the temps we hired to help around Christmas time. In retrospect, it was a miracle nothing bad had happened.

Okay, I was slightly mad at her. But I really didn’t want to be.

I saw in her eyes that it had finally clicked. She understood the gravity of what she had done, and handed me a crumpled pamphlet from her pocket, making sure to avert her gaze. God damn it. She had one momentary lapse, and it cost me a good cashier. Fucking hell.

“I’m sorry…” she started.

“It’s okay Alice, you didn’t mean to. You were alone on the floor, she was an old bat, it could’ve happened to anyone. You’ll be missed around here, but please don’t visit.”

She nodded. She finally remembered the rules, and she understood that there was no other way.

I put the cash drawer in the safe while she gathered the stuff she had left in the break room. I opened the back door to light a cigarette. She had tears in her eyes as she exited the store. I gave her a smile and clasped her hands in mine.

“You were a good employee, Alice. You’ll do great in a regular bookstore. Don’t doubt yourself and avoid this street for a few weeks. Call me if you run into any trouble, okay?”

“Thank you for the opportunity, boss. I really loved working here.”

“I know you did. Now hurry home. Don’t answer to anyone knocking on your door. Be safe.”

She nodded and scurried away, her backpack bouncing with her steps. I crammed my half-finished cigarette into the already-full-but-I-keep-forgetting-to-empty-it ashtray and went back inside.

The pamphlet was sitting on top of the safe, and as I grabbed it I felt the urge to read it. Nope. In the bin you go. I was accustomed to those old tricks. First rule of working with my clientele is to know when you can’t trust your instincts because something’s fucking with them. Second rule is to trust your instincts. Confusing? Welcome to my life.

So I ended up sitting at my desk typing furiously on my computer instead of napping. I still had a few hours until night shift, but I absolutely had to start interviewing prospective employees in the next couple days – in the meantime I just had to hope one of my part-time employees would like to work a few extra hours. I just have too much work to spend all my time manning the register and keeping the tables neat. While the store isn’t that big, it still is a lot for one person.

I obviously had to update the employee rulebook as well. Just emphasize that you can’t take chances with crazy old people. You never know if they’re truly crazy or something else.

“Never accept anything a customer hands you directly if it’s not (real) money. If they’re promoting something, make them leave any cards, pamphlets, posters at the register. If you end up accepting whatever they gave you, don’t look at it, and come to me immediately.”

Yes, it’s weird. I know it’s weird. Look, I pay my employees a fair enough wage that they make sure to follow the rules. I don’t care if they think I’m crazy. I probably am. It doesn’t matter.

I pressed enter and added:

“If a customer asks if they can see what we have in the back, politely decline and offer them to order whatever book they need. If they persist, come get me.”

God damn it, Alice actually handled this part well. But she grabbed the pamphlet, and I had to protect her.

I don’t write the rules to make my employees better workers. I write them to make sure they survive. The main reason any infraction is cause for termination is that, well, it could be the cause for the actual termination of their existence on Earth. Getting fired from a job is a way better alternative.

Alice accepted the old lady’s pamphlet. It could’ve been anything else. A tissue, a cigarette, a glass of water. She unknowingly made a bargain with whatever the woman was. ‘I gave you something, now I’m free to take something’. Entities like the old lady abide by archaic rules. In a store, this is what applies. I lost a regular day customer that way. The poor lady was watching over her kid, who was merrily making a mess looking through the 3-5 years old section, when a young girl came up to her. “Look miss, look I made a drawing”, she said. My customer grabbed the piece of paper and the girl ran off. A couple days later, posters popped up everywhere in town for a missing toddler.

I was obviously pissed. I’d been waiting to see that little girl again and tell her that business rules applied only between merchant and customers and she had no right to force an innocent, unaware person into a contract. My night clientele is well aware of that, and treasure having a place to find literature enough to not risk jeopardizing the fragile balance between both worlds. Nonhumans can be facetious little shits though, and I’ve never seen that girl again. Some entities enjoy chaos just for the sake of it. This one just danced around the rules, grabbed what she wanted, and ruined two lives. My customer sank into a deep depression and ended up gouging her eyes out during a manic episode. Her toddler was never found, but I don’t think he will grow up to be a respectable, human adult.

I checked the time and decided I could get 2 hours of sleep before having to get the store ready for night shift. So obviously I went to check out who – or what – was knocking on the glass window near the entrance because who needs sleep anyway.

It was an old lady, her wrinkled bloated nose pressed against the glass, her skeletal fingers tapping against it in a rhythmical fashion that was getting on my nerves. She had piercing, blood-injected eyes that were fixed on me and a grin so large it couldn’t possibly be natural.

I didn’t have time to be scared, but I still felt the fear creeping up on my stomach, slowly making its way through my body. No matter how hard I tried to reject it, I couldn’t. Stupid human nature. I adorned my best customer service smile and walked up to the old lady.

“My apologies, you seem to be a bit early. We will be open for business at eleven.”

I didn’t need to yell. I knew she could hear me clearly in spite of the glass separating us.

One… two… three taps on the window. Her already impossibly wide grin grew even wider, revealing rotten teeth sticking out of black, putrid gums. Thick, yellowish saliva was dripping down in strands from her non-existent lips. By the time the corners of her mouth reached her temples, I was sure I would lose my fake confidence and run in the opposite direction. No matter how many times you deal with unnatural entities, being mere centimeters away from a nightmarish mouth full of rot and decay will shake you to your core. I tried to breathe calmly, being secretly thankful for the glass that separated me from what was probably the foulest smell I’d ever submitted my nose to, hoping the old lady would see me standing my ground and respect the rules of business. I could deal with her inside my bookstore, where she would be a customer. I just needed to stay brave and meet her transfixed, unwavering gaze. Her eyes were more blood vessels than pupils, and I found myself focusing on those instead of whatever was moving in her mouth. I did not want to see her tongue, not after seeing the state of her teeth. And I sure as hell did not want to see whatever I clearly caught moving around her mouth if it wasn’t her tongue. No, her eyes were scary but I could deal with them, no matter how unsettling it was to see them bulge in and out of her head in a slow motion, almost as if they were breathing. The glass became foggier and foggier on her side due to her heavy, animalistic panting, but I kept my gaze straight, only catching glimpses of fog and movement in my peripheral visions. If I were to treat her like an animal, I needed to assert myself as the alpha. I don’t yield to rude, entitled customers, and I wouldn’t yield to rude, entitled nonhumans breaching the unspoken contract that allowed them to enjoy my store.

After what felt like forever, she stopped tapping on the window. Her grin reverted back to a normal, almost friendly smile. She blinked, soggy wrinkled eyelids covering those eyes I had stared at for far too long.

“I guess I’ll see you when you’re open, then”. In spite of the glass panel separating us, I felt her putrid breath against my ear as she whispered her parting words.

Just like that, she turned and left.

Understandably, I was not looking forward to seeing her during the night shift. My regular customers were unsettling enough, I did not want to add the batshit-insane-nightmarish-grandma to the list.

I’m a business owner. The customer may not be always right, but they are always my priority. I will have to open tonight, because while some may not consider books to be a necessity, I guarantee you that it is vital not only for my business, but for some of my night customers that I open every night. I complain about my life a lot, but some of them face issues they can’t simply look up on the internet nor ask a friend or even a therapist. They may urgently need something from the night inventory, and I will do my best to provide it for them. I’ve always loved being a bookseller, but helping nonhumans find whatever fits their very specific needs has given me a sense of purpose I’m not ready to give up just yet.

I will open tonight. And I will protect my business and its rules, to ensure that I can open tomorrow night.

(Note: edited some words to fit in with the location LOL)

#r/nosleep #ghoststories #storytelling #bookstore #book store owner #ghosts #creepy #bedtime stories #SoundCloud

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andieperrie18 · 5 years ago

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BLACK SEA (p. lahote)

SO THIS IS MY ATTEMPT ON WRITING THE PROMPT I POSTED A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO. THIS IS JUST AN ATTEMPT.

Freya had been with the Cullens for quite and they were the only who ones who know of her real nature. After escaping the terror of Ragnarok by some miracle, she is sent to Midgard or also known as Earth in human tongue.

inspired by Natasha Blume's Black Sea

Paul Lahote x Oc

Malina Weissman as Freya Cullen

She is taken under by Carlisle and Esme as their first child. The couple had nothing but kind parental figures that Freya’s real parents can’t be and not wanting to destroy the bond between these two immortal beings, she revealed herself as the Nordic Hound, Fenris. She Who Dwells in the Marshes.

Freya told them how she only wanted to be accepted and love. She told them that she had thought the gods loved her for they took care of her for all her childhood but because of their fear of her overpowering them, they bounded her down and stuck a sword to her mouth, forever leaving her grieving and hurting as the days of Ragnarok came. The day she vowed to swallow the bastard god Odin. But upon the arrival of the said day, she wasn’t prepared for the consequences of her world’s end. She was left alone. With no one else to care for her.

The Cullens, whom were thoroughly captured by her melancholic life decided to take her in as their own and will forever call her as their own no matter what kind of being she was. They vowed that they will take her secret to the grave. And in them she found what her heart desired for eons.

Their family grew bigger and bigger as witnesses of her primordial existence grew but only within her family. Unlike the shape shifter, she didn’t reek any kind of dog mutt smell that any vampire’s strong sense of smell can breathe. Her scent is composed of fresh bloomed roses and pine. She lived among the most dangerous predator as another monster.

For thousands of years she and Cullens roamed, living country after country, life after life. They didn’t need to worry of feeling of belongingness as Freya gave her whole heart to them and loved them enough to allow themselves to never linger in the darkness of their damnation by feeding on blood. Her appearance may trick any person that she is the youngest of the Cullens but she is actually the eldest of all the foster siblings. She adapts to each of them in their first years of vampirism. Making sure to keep them bay and providing them the emotional help that they need. She had adapted her human form to almost match their skin tone that she would almost look like a vampire herself but when their eyes glowed in crimson, hers glowed in green as it mirrored her abilities in her other form.

In human, they are dull green but sparked the light in the family but when in tap with her lycanthrope, they are a yellow green that always glared at murderous intent. No one but her family can tame her monstrosity.

Her life with them is simple and quiet but that was until they transferred to small town called Forks. Where they encounter a Quileute tribe forming a treaty with them and showing them Freya’s true nature to show that they can live in piece with them. For years, from that they on she never showed her true form as she believes that this wolf nature of hers can only be called upon to only serious occasion like the Volturi, just in case as Freya didn’t like them at all. But she did manage to cloak her true self from their judging and immoral eyes. She knew that if they found out about her origin, it could mean danger for both humans and creatures.

And then came Bella Swan. Which brings us to this day.

- Midgard, Forks -

Newborns were threatening the lives in Forks and Bella’s that caused two mystical creatures to be gathered in the middle of a clearing. Freya had hung herself dangling from a thick branch with her legs out of boredom. Today was the day where she and family would meet the wolf pack to train under Jasper.

This would probably her first time encountering a pack as she had been a lone wolf all her life well before she met Cullens. They were her pack. Her home. And she will not stop at nothing to keep the safe. Bella included.

“Hey sweetie, can you come down for a bit?” Esme called to her. Freya looked down to meet her mother’s face before catapulting off the branch and landing smoothly in a crouch position.

Esme smiled a bit, ‘old habits die hard I guess’ she thought as her daughter stood straight. The girl may have been raised by them for a long while and tried to teach her human etiquettes as much as possible but they cannot change the fact that Freya is still a wolf and her k9 idiosyncrasies will always been intact as habit. But they all still love her anyway.

“What is it mom?” Esme caressed her head, “This is your first time meeting wolf pack. Any last minute comments?” her daughter retorted as they walked side by side towards where her other siblings were.

“Well I am curious since I’ve been a lone wolf for quite a while. Besides, I know I can handle them. I’m the Alpha of Alphas.” Freya grinned, “Yep, and I know big sis can show those whose the real boss.”

The green-eyed girl phased her head to meet her buff younger brothers and blonde sister. Smiling at them, she transferred herself from her mother’s embrace to the buff male. “Please don’t get to rowdy Em. You’re ass might end up on the floor of you keep being sassy.” With an eye-roll he replied with his wife sighing-ly smiled at her husband, “Yes sister, you know still don’t get why we let you be our elder sister when you are distinctively in a body of a sixteen year old. If you ever had a boyfriend, people might sue him for pedophilia.” Freya’s mouth shot open as her face contorted into disbelief as she was clearly offended. Rosalie and Esme stared at each other, eyes wide and awkward echoing the same thought in their minds.

‘Oohh he’s gonna get it.’

Carlisle and Edward stood in good approximate from where Sam Uley’s pack gathered. He was just in the middle of explaining about the difference of the New Borns when…

“*BLAGHH*”

Emmette’s figure flew above them and hitting a tree before falling to the ground. Everyone’s attention turned to his groaning figure trying to stand and then came a, “YOU LITTLE SHIT! I’LL PUT GARLIC OIL IN YOUR CESAR SALAD FOR A WEEK!!” from the clearing came an angry Freya, stomping her way to where Emmette stood.

Esme and Rosalie had arrived, the former being the making way beside her husband to report the sudden commotion while the latter stood from a few steps, trying to keep herself from bursting out laughing and feeling a tinge of guilt for laughing at her soulmate.

“Emmette called her little indirectly.” As much as Carlisle wanted to laugh, he held himself as he was in the middle of a serious meeting.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! Come on Freya! I was just kidding! I’m sorry!” Not yet noticing her crowd, Freya grabbed his neck and had him on his feet. Her seemingly fragile and petite figure dragged him away from where landed.

Jacob had never seen this girl around the Cullens. Sam and his packed eyed in disbelief with this scene. But one thing came to their attention. Her scent, it didn’t match the Cullens not one bit.

“That’s the three hundred and twelveth time you called me out! I am older than you Emmette now you better respect me or I’ll ground you from watching any baseball game and dad won’t be able to—” “Um, Freya sweetheart.”

Her father’s smooth voice called her, breaking her plundering anger. She turned to meet his face to see him and her mother giving her an awkward smile, ‘you can kill him later sweetie.’ Their face said.

Like Rosalie. Alice, Jasper and Edward tried to hold themselves back from laughing as they were in really serious meeting. Bella was confused but had a ridiculous smile secretly etched on her lips with the way the eldest held the muscled man by the neck.

Freya turned to a swift to the pack of wolves across her. Staring at her.

“Oh..uh.. s-sorry. I’ll-I I’ll just go back here. Please continue.” Clearly embarassed she continued to scolded Emmette this time about confounding in the middle of a war meeting.

“Alright, returning back to topic. Our kind is never more physically powerful than in our first several months in this life.” Carlisle continued before turning to Jasper to continue.

The blonde male proceed his lecture about the Newborns. This time noticing Freya clearly attentive at this time of need. Not that he hadn’t told about her about the natures of Newborns before but because she knew when to take tings seriously. That’s was why she can substitute herself as head in their family, similar to an Alpha as Carlisle had entrusted her with keeping all of them safe since she is a force a lot stronger to be reckon with. The sparring began. All came in pairs showing their four-legged temporary allies how Newborns. Then came her turn.

Turning to Emmette, to Jasper and Edward. Indicating a quick nod.

“One more note, I believe this would be rather useful to all of you since you are a pack and share a connection with each other.” She trailed as they eyed her yet her eyes remained to the black wolf as if trying to emphasize something.

“Never.” Emmette appeared behind him and locked her in a headlock with no sense of holding back, “Ever. Try.” Edward and Jasper neared her immobilized figure, “To Be Alone. In a Swarm.”

Her eyes flashed the poison green glow. Making every fur in their bodies stand as if they were slashed by a blade like a samurai right before their eyes.

Her feet lifted from the ground as her momentum in a cartwheel bringing Emmette on her life causing him break his choke hold and for her hook her own arm around his neck to a choke hold and slamming him down to the dirt ground.

“Not unless your like me.” She smirked before turning with both her arms extended as she ran towards Jasper and Edward and grabbing their necks and swiftly slamming them down to the ground as well before they could even fight back.

“Remember this little Alpha.”

Recomposing herself, she turned back to Sam and began to eye all of the wolves. Making sure to meet her glowing green eyes. Staring up at her. Even the Alpha himself gazed upon her as if she was the highest being that ever existed. It was as if she was his leader, his sovereign and ruler.

“A lone wolf may die but a pack always survives.”

To the Cullens, it may sound like a reminder but to the wolves, it was more of warning especially to Sam.

It was almost like an instinct as after her warning, all of their heads lowered and whimpers dripped from their snouts. In their minds, it was if they were beneath the gaze of the beast with the fear that if they meet her glowing poisonous green orbs, it could be interpret as disrespect and cause them their damnation.

Peering to each tamed heads one by one, Freya stared down at them as she didn’t speak of the warning as a type of threat but as an advice if they want to last a night. She could sense their hatred and egotism towards their mortal enemies.

But a sound of growling caught her attention. Sam took notice of this as well and it take long before found out that its source is the grey wolf beside him.

‘Paul stop!!’

‘Paul Calm down!!!’

But the male didn’t budge. This bloodsucker had no right to order. She wasn’t his alpha and he doesn’t take orders from a girl.

Her feet crunch the forest floor with every step until it reached Paul’s lowered vision. It was moments like this that Freya liked her primordial hierarchy among the children of the moon. Her love on putting people to place gives her sense of satisfaction.

“Gaze upon me mortal creature.” Her hand hovered under his snout and my a unknown force, his head was lifted to meet her piercing eyes. But what came next was the last thing Paul Lahote would ever expect with a goddess.

#fenris #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote #twilight imagines #twilight quilette boys #twilight imagine #twilight #thorragnarok #alex meraz #x oc #fanfiction

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wedreamedlove · 5 years ago

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Not Too Much, Not Too Little, Juuuust Right [Xu Mo Character Study]

Reddit archived.

I got a weekly chat recently from Xu Mo that made me appreciate all over again just how much of a wordsmith he is and his massive EQ (emotional quotient intelligence).

So, I wanted to explore that in more depth here and then slide into how love is a poison that worked its way into Xu Mo and is disrupting all his plans LOL.

Spoilers goes up to Chapter 9 but mentions Chapter 13. I'm also going to be doing direct comparisons to the English version because Elex did Xu Mo so dirty at the beginning.

First, I always need to give credit to @sharinluna and their comment in my Speech Quirks post (which I'm still updating to bring over) because I can never stop thinking about it whenever it comes to Xu Mo vs. the ENG server and how his social class is present in the game but difficult to convey to an English audience due to cultural differences.

I mentioned this in my Character Study on him but TL;DR Xu Mo being a distinguished neuroscientist and professor is sort of like meeting a doctor who cured cancer or something. You'd feel like you need to be extra presentable and it'd be understandable if they wanted you to call them Dr. because they studied 8 years for that Ph.D. There's a sense of awe and respect, right?

Xu Mo: I'll participate. Good luck, classmate.

Xu Mo: The next time we meet, you can just call me Xu Mo.

Here at [Main Story 1-9] you see that Xu Mo immediately gets rid of the distance between him and MC. I won't comment on the English version here, because it's a tough cultural one here. But Xu Mo calling her a classmate puts them on the same social level.

He takes that further by giving her permission to directly use his name. This is notable because it's normal to call people by their last names or titles in Asian countries. You don't assume closeness unless you're around the same age, permission is given, the time is judged to be right, etc.

Xu Mo: I'm laughing at how every time you let me help you, you'll always say reservedly at the end, "Thank you Xu Mo, it's all because of you."

Xu Mo: (Raises an eyebrow) What, am I that scary?

Here at [Footage 1-7] he points out how reserved she still is with him and then, again, makes another request for her not to be so reserved or scared around him.

The rest is close enough to English so I didn't show it, but I did show the above because in Chinese he imitates her voice and it's another instance where he's working to soothe her nerves. He's lightening the situation and making himself come off as silly and cute. He also structures his question in a way where he's not emphasizing whether or not SHE'S scared but if HE'S scary.

Now, in this next section, I want to point out that Xu Mo knows deepening a relationship quicker requires some stimulus and he's a master of introducing and relieving tension.

If you constantly flustered the other person and left them feeling embarrassed, then you'd be known as an aggressive flirt and you'd risk scaring them away. But if you fluster them and then give them some space by stepping back and smoothing the conversation over, then you're a charmer.

Xu Mo: In conventional terms, I believe it's called a "date".

Xu Mo: Mm, you don't have to think too much on it. We're just searching for interesting things together.

This is Xu Mo's first call which comes after [Main Story 1-14] and he asks MC how she's going to thank for his help on Miracle Finder. That's the introduction of tension. He's clearly flirting and MC is flustered as she racks her brain for something. He relieves the tension by taking over and asking if he can make a request. Then he introduces it again by hinting at having a date. But then he relieves it again by telling her that she doesn't need to think too much about it.

The reason I brought up a direct comparison is because of the nuance in "Don't read too much into it" vs. "Don't think too much on it". The former implies that she's not supposed to put importance on it being a date, because it's not true. The latter sneakily gives her the option of not needing to put importance on it, but it can still be a date and he's just not admitting it.

WORDSMITH!

To be honest, I wanted to avoid mentioning voice direction because that's a murky zone with personal preferences everywhere. However, I cannot resist this one part because it's the epitome of Xu Mo's scholarly demeanor letting him get away with things like this.

In [Main Story 2-11] Xu Mo calls MC to talk about folding light and then it leads to this teasing:

Today, a director from Miracle Finder came to discuss plans for the next show with me. Originally, I thought about having them leave [...] I thought you would come [...] More important than me? [...] Is it only for fresh ideas for your shows? [...] Haha, I'm feeling better now. I can talk with your director about the show's contents now.

He keeps his voice light throughout the whole conversation, and there's modal particles in there to soften his words. I also love the slight laugh he directs at himself and at the end. Again, he brings tension to the conversation by putting her on the spot but relaxes it by keeping things light.

In [Main Story 9-7] Xu Mo drops MC off at home after her hospital trip and teases her by asking if she's just going to thank him by saying "thank you". Tension is injected here! MC is flustered! Then he relieves the tension by saying there's many ways to show gratitude and she can take time thinking about it. He doesn't stay on this topic and instead leaves her alone.

Now, in this section, we acknowledge that all humans are unique and people have different levels of what they can tolerate. The same goes for our MC and we can see instances of Xu Mo adjusting his behavior according to her reactions.

Or, most notably, in [Main Story 5-6] Xu Mo asks MC:

Xu Mo: Then, could you change me if we continued to get along like this?

Um, there's a difference between "could" and "would" but I won't get into the semantics of that because I'm not a master in Chinese. However, I will note that the word he's using 能讓 means something like "can let, allow, can make" so it's an inherently soft verb.

Anyway, after this conversation, we end up at [Main Story 5-14] where MC criticizes the way Xu Mo treats girls because he's pleasant to everyone. He corrects her misunderstanding and explains the reasons behind his interactions with all the other girls.

However, he does take MC's words into account and adjusts his attitude accordingly. Hereon, he draws clear lines between him and other girls, although by nature he's still polite to everyone. It's another reflection of his emotional intelligence at how his attitude can't be judged wrong by anyone, and yet he can still convey his rejection and distance.

By the way, this is mentioned in his [CN Character Profile]:

Although he is gentle towards people, he makes people feel that there is a sense of distance, and it is difficult to really enter his inner world.

For example, in [Afternoon Date], Xu Mo politely answers the girl's questions about getting better sleep and then rejects her cake to him like so:

Xu Mo: I didn't help with anything, you're too polite.

Xu Mo: But I don't eat sweets. Thank you for your kind intentions.

Seriously, he leaves no room to be criticized. He was unfailingly polite, acknowledged her intentions, said he received them, but still rejected her cake. LOL.

In [Main Story 9-2] the nurse who is supposed to give MC an IV is super flustered in Xu Mo's presence and she misses the vein because MC unconsciously moves. Xu Mo tells her to try again and take it slow, because MC is going to be even more nervous now.

His words were seemingly casual, carrying his usual gentleness, but I could hear a hint of disaffection.

Translation? He's pissed. Haha, just kidding, but he's probably unimpressed with the nurse's incompetence and her attention on him, only he's too polite to let it show overly much.

Meanwhile, Xu Mo is also observing MC's reaction to him and adjusting his responses in consideration of her feelings (whenever he's not playing the flirting game).

In [True Love Date] everyone plays spin the bottle and answer questions, or get penalized with drinking shots. Xu Mo admits that he has someone he likes, but when they ask him to say who it is, he responds like this:

My heart beat even quicker as I buried my head deeper and my hand, which was held by Xu Mo, tightened unconsciously.

Xu Mo seemed to have realized something and, with a small smile, he raised his drink and drained shot after shot.

Are the translators only getting paid per scene and so they're dropping the latter half of every sentence? LOL...

Anyway, it's much clearer in Chinese that he feels her reaction, immediately understands, and just accepts the penalty with his usual elegance and smile. Or it could have been a chuckle. Oh god, Chinese and Japanese with their 笑.

Next, going back to [Main Story 9-2], Xu Mo is teasing MC and then gets called out. This is an interesting one because it doubles both as him restraining himself after her words, but also because he realizes that love is eating into him and he's reacting unconsciously and genuinely now.

He seemed to be deliberately imitating my earlier words, and the last syllable even rose up a little.

MC: Xu Mo, I haven't seen you in so long and yet you're getting better and better at making fun of me...

Hearing my words, Xu Mo was taken aback, and the smile in his eyes disappeared somewhat.

Xu Mo: Is that so?

Those three words were so light it was as if they had never slipped out of Xu Mo's mouth.

He quickly raised the corners of his mouth again, but the curve of his smile was more restrained.

Am I ever going to get over the translations for the hospital scene in Chapter 8 and 9? NO. NEVER. I hate it so much because it's two different worlds.

Changing gears to [Main Story 5-16] we get this observation from MC.

He's definitely a dangerous man! I need to stay farther away from him!

I'm sorry, but call me the fun police because I hate this translation too. I get it. The context allows for this after all his teasing, but you can get the same thing with the word dangerous. He's dangerous for your heart, he's dangerous for your hormones, etc.

The reason I'm being a stickler here is because MC isn't oblivious to Xu Mo's actions.

In [CN Archery Date] she thinks:

I tried to check Xu Mo's reaction, but he was just smiling. However, in those curved eyes, I felt like there were still hidden sides to him that I didn't know about.

From the day I met him, he concealed his inner thoughts and treated me with a calm, beautiful, and gentle smile.

That's why, up until now, I never thought he had a side like this to him.

MC knows Xu Mo wears a polite mask, but you don't just call people out on that LOL. Like any other relationship, you hope the other person will slowly open up to you. But, well, the reveal in Chapter 13 was probably not something she could have ever expected.

This is why I think the "dangerous" description up there should have been kept. It's some delicious foreshadowing that still lets you play around with innuendo.

Incidentally, the chat that made me write this post was:

MC: Xu Mo, have you ever had a time where you were furious?

Xu Mo: Not really. Living as a human means we need to control our emotions.

Xu Mo: There's even less of a need to be furious at something that's already happened.

First, he states his position and it's a mature one. Second, he then softens his superior position by generalizing how you and him both need to control emotions as humans. Third, he provides general logical advice without sounding like he's singling you out.

In comparison, I can easily see Kiro and Gavin sympathizing with your emotions and letting you vent. That's totally cool and that's their style because they're not the mentor-type. Meanwhile, Victor would probably point out how dumb you are for wasting time and energy getting angry instead of just going straight to fixing the problem. That's cool too, since he's the tough love type.

But you see how this sets Xu Mo apart? He's so skilled with his words. WORDSMITH!! I have a massive interest in social engineering and inherited my mother's social manipulation genes LOL so I love scholar archetypes and their word games.

If you're not doing it out of any malicious intent though then it's just a very considerate way of speaking and it's nice.

Conclusion. So, anyway, this was me wanting to admire Xu Mo's massive EQ. I'd say the only other person on par with him is Kiro, but Kiro has the natural kind and is more genuine because you can see him react truly to things.

Xu Mo is, much like his profession, a scientist who has probably studied how people interact with each other and perfected that. But this perfection in and of itself is what leads to a sense of discomfort with him because no one can be THAT gentle and placid all the time.

I always mention how disarming he sounds, because he's so good at social engineering, and it's only after the conversation is over and I take a few seconds to go over what was said that I'm like "Hey, wait a minute, that was actually alarming!?".

One of my favorite quotes is from the DUNE series by Frank Herbert and it goes: "To know a thing well, know its limits; Only when pushed beyond its tolerance will its true nature be seen."

This applies to Xu Mo. Knowing someone's bottom line helps you know them as a person and so we go into the next section where he shows genuine emotions.

LOVE IS A SLOW, SWEET POISON

Eyes are the window to the soul! EYES ARE THE WINDOW TO THE SOUL!! If I took a drink for every time there's a description about the ripples in Xu Mo's eyes (not even eye symbolism in general), I would be dead before even getting out of Chapters 1-10.

But, anyway, whenever there's flickering, surging, roiling, seething, welling, or shifting light in his eyes then it means he's feeling some heavy emotions.

Returning back to [True Love Date]:

Xu Mo stilled for a moment, light surging and roiling in his eyes, before I saw his Adam's apple bob.

For those with clever eyes, yes, the adjectives for the light in his eyes is supposed to draw references to water. Turbulent waves. Rolling waves. Surging waves.

I'm not going to show [Main Story 9-11] because the English was close enough with "Xu Mo's eyes welled with shifting emotions". They got the eye symbolism there at least! Chinese just went further by linking it directly to water again with how his emotions were like "swelling ocean tides at night".

Then, once these emotions hit their peak, they explode and deliciously unmake Xu Mo. He loses his calm and the contrast between the incidents I've shown above where he's been nothing but grace, elegance, and courtesy vs. this loss of control is fantastic.

In [True Love Date] we see Xu Mo corner the MC outside the washrooms because he misunderstands and thinks she's complimenting another man. Uh, no comment on the yelling in English vs. the quiet melancholic tone in the other versions. But the fact that he forgets his physical strength is a clear sign of a loss of control!

In [Midnight Date] he's trying to order himself to forget about MC and feeling a rope of thorns squeeze his heart. Uh, pretty clear sign of him losing control over his feelings again.

I would argue this all culminates in Chapter 9 when he realizes he loves her. In [Main Story 9-14] we get to see Xu Mo at his most human, where he lets himself feel, before he gets caught up in his plans again and sees them go awry at the end of Chapter 9.

Like the prophetic dream MC had in [Main Story 9-14], the ground has fallen beneath them and they're sinking into a deep ocean. The red spider lilies describe them well because the flowers and leaves can never touch and these two are separated with sadness and mutual longing... (or are they?).

Past Chapter 9, we literally don't see Xu Mo with MC until we head into Chapter 13 RIP. So, at [Main Story 12-22] we just see another example of Xu Mo trying to lock his humanity away again so that he can carry out his plan utilizing the MC.

The light in his eyes was still gentle but a bit unfamiliar and there was more of a sense of ordinary humanness.

The man nodded and turned around. His face was expressionless, and even his eyes lacked any emotion.

Took liberties in this translation, as always, because it's just impossibly hard to get across how fireworks symbolize mono no aware and the fleeting fragility of the human condition. So, when Xu Mo's eyes are described as having the breath of fireworks it means being grounded in the earthly realm as an ordinary human whose life shall pass, but that's why the moment you're living in right now is beautiful.

But... but he truly does love her LOL.

In the [2nd Trailer PV] Xu Mo says "You always... throw off my judgment" which is close enough to the Chinese line that translates to something like: "You always have me make the wrong judgment."

Perhaps it's unfair to criticize the English translation at the example below because translators generally don't have the full context of everything and often work solo with single parts (b-but that's why you need a good editor...).

However, I love looking at these two conversations together. This is from [Main Story 5-19] after Xu Mo mentions he hasn't slept for three days, and then Xu Mo's first call again after [Main Story 1-14] about the date-not-date:

Xu Mo: No, I don't. I just don't want to waste time on unimportant things.

Xu Mo: Relax together, share delicious meals, waste our time away...

Everything Xu Mo holds as important 1) his judgment and 2) his time because he doesn't do useless things has been overturned by the MC. That's love, baby!

In the words of Paul Valéry, a French poet and philosopher in the 19th century, "Love is being stupid together."

And you know what? In [True Love Date]... at least the Chinese version:

Forget it, he'll just be foolish once more with this foolish girl.

#mr love queen's choice #mlqc meta #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo #mlqc #love and producer #love and produc(ing) meta

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factoffictionwriter · 5 years ago

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Tiva Fic Amnesty #12

Okay - this has the potential to be a little controversial, but I’m gonna post some bits and pieces from unused work for Chaval Al Hazman (read actual fic here if you want). This isn’t me giving up on the fic, okay? I swear I’m going to go back to it one day. Once I figure out what I want to do with it. Plus, I’m only posting pieces that won’t be included when I eventually finish it (even if they are, they won’t be in the same form they are here). Mostly alternate scenes to things I already posted.

“How far is it from Tel Aviv?” He asked, reaching out for his own glass and mirroring her action.

“Maybe 3 hours on a bad day. Farther than Jerusalem.”

He nodded as he looked back down at the tiny screen in front of him, propped up precariously on the now almost empty bottle on wine between them, “Okay, so that leaves us with Akko and Be’er Sheva. Oh, right, and Jaffa.”

“Jaffa is right outside of Tel Aviv, so that will not be hard. Be’er Sheva, on the other hand, is more complicated.”

“Why? Is it a long drive?”

She shook her head as she pushed off the marble counter behind her and took the few steps across the kitchen. She leaned forward on the breakfast bar, propping herself on her elbows as she slowly swirled the liquid in her glass, “No. Not too long. There is just so much to see. It could take us weeks to get to everything.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” He tried to decipher the look in her eyes, to weed through all her typical layers of defense.

She looked up from her glass, “Generally, no. But you keep forgetting that we are operating on borrowed time here, Tony. Any day now we could get a call telling us that the issue with Gibbs has blown over and we can return to our jobs.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he gave her the most mischievous look he could manage, “Who says we have to go? You’re rich. We could hide out here indefinitely.”

She chuckled, “We? I would be paying for your lifestyle?”

“Between your mom’s family and what I’m sure is a fat inheritance from your father, I think you could manage it. Besides,” he set his glass down and slid a hand out, barely letting his fingertips brush the skin of her forearm where it sat on the counter between them, “I bet I could come up with a few ways to repay my debts. As long as you’re willing to accept alternative forms of payment.”

She shook her head at him, but couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across her face or the small laugh that accompanied it.

“As intriguing as I find your offer of alternative payments, I am pretty sure that we both know we won’t be going back to NCIS for the money.”

“Yeah, you’re right. We’ll go back for the guns.”

She laughed again, setting down her own wine glass this time and leaning a little farther over the bar, “We will go back for the family. Our family.”

He sighed, running his fingers up her arm one last time before resting his palm on the back of her elbow, “I guess that’s a pretty good reason to go back. Much better than what I thought you were going to say.”

She raised her eyebrows at him, “Which was?”

He smirked to himself as he gently tugged at her arm, prompting her to lean even farther over the bar until she must have been standing on her tip toes, “The dead bodies.”

---

“Borrowed time,” he said, drawing the words out as if testing the way they felt on his tongue before deciding to add, “I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

Her hands faltered again, and he swore he heard her swallow before speaking, but her words still came out clear and calm, “It is just an expression, Tony.”

“Well, it’s a bad one. And not very accurate.”

She didn’t respond.

“And I’m not so sure how I feel about that being the one expression you get right on the first try.”

Still silent.

“Because I don’t see us as ‘operating on borrowed time’. I see us as… setting in motion the things that are going to shape the rest of our lives.”

No response.

“Like, take the Be’er Shiva thing. Someday, we will visit Be’er Shiva together, and you’ll show me all your favorite things about the place you were born. Whether that happens on this trip, or maybe over a christmas vacation next year, or even in 10 years, I still have this feeling that it will happen.”

He felt her breath on the back of his neck again as she slowly slid her arms round his waist, the massage seemingly forgotten, “Christmas in the Desert? That doesn’t sound very festive.”

“Oh, what do you care? You don’t even celebrate Christmas. The point is, we aren’t borrowing time from anyone. It’s ours. We earned it. And nobody else is going to tell us how to spend it.”

He finished his little speech by reaching up for her hands where they lay flat on his stomach and tangling their fingers together.

She was quiet for a moment until he felt her shoulders shaking with laughter behind him.

He turned his head to the side, trying to get a little glimpse of her behind him, and was relieved to find that the motion did not cause stabbing pain. She really was a miracle worker.

“What’s so funny?”

She shook her head a little before leaning forward to press her lips against his cheek where she could now reach it, “I just cannot believe that there are people out there, people we spend hours with each day and have worked alongside for years, who truly believe that Tony DiNozzo is a playboy.”

He sat up straight and turned to face her, regretting the movement when her fingers slid out of his and she let go of his waist, then feeling relieved when she casually dropped her hands to rest on his thighs, “You’re suggesting I’m not.”

She shook her head, “Absolutely not. You are the most hopelessly romantic man I have ever met.”

He let his hands crawl up her sides until they came to rest on her waist, “I would love to hear how you came to that conclusion.”

She smiled at him, leaning forward a little as if to emphasize her confidence, “You lost your mother young, and your father hasn’t been able to hold down a relationship since, which taught you that relationships can work, but only with the right people. You went on to date a woman considerably older than you who, in my humble opinion, manipulated you into believing you would be together forever. You proposed, she said yes, then she left you at the altar. Now you don’t trust your own instincts, at least not when it comes to relationships. So you date around, chasing skirts and hoping that one of them will turn out to be right for you, but also never giving them the chance to prove themselves. You love movies because of your mother, but also because you love the idea of a happy ending, especially one that falls into the lap of the main character. You’re terrified of getting hurt, but also of being alone. Which is why you talk so much. When you’re talking, you can’t hear the sound of your own discontent with your life.”

She gave him a level look, as if daring him to argue with her analysis.

He sighed, “Wow. Sounds like a catch.”

She smiled again, and one of her hands slid off his thigh and found its way to his face, gently brushing along his hairline and down to his jaw, “Evidently I thought so.”

“Any other life shattering observations that you’d like to share with me?”

Her smile morphed into a smirk as she brought her hand around to the back of his neck, “Depends. Are you aware of your tendency toward women who can kick your ass?”

---

“Now how the hell would you know that?”

“Because I know you, Tony,” she said as she ducked her head to press her lips to his neck sweetly, “And I pay attention when you talk.”

“Could have fooled me,” He mumbled against her collarbone.

She chuckled, “Must we revisit my previous analysis? Or continue on with our discussion of your infatuation with dangerous women?”

He shook his head, “Let’s not. I think we should dig up something deeply personal about you, huh? How about we discuss why it is you are attracted to men so much older than you?”

She laughed this time, “I am attracted to older men because older men are attractive. There is no deeper meaning.”

“Oh, really? So you mean to tell me that you’re here, making out with a guy who is more than 10 years older than you, and I’m supposed to believe that has nothing to do with your emotionally distant and borderline abusive father?”

“Believe me, Tony, my father is the farthest thing from my mind when I am in bed with a man, no matter his age. And you are not the oldest one I have been with.”

He scrunched up his face, “Nevermind. I would rather not talk about your sexual encounters of the geriatric kind.”

#chaval is the fic that haunts me at night #but some day i'll finish it #i just want to do it right #and i don't currently know how to do that #so i'll throw my discarded ideas here #so at least they get to see the sun #and maybe i'll get inspiration from going through my old outlines?#no promises #amnesty #factoffiction #factoffictionwriter #factoffiction amnesty week #tiva #tiva fanfiction #fanfic #mine

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raven-wraith · 4 years ago

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This is Actually a Completely Subjective List Written in a Completely Objective Voice, so I’m not Wrong, Y’all just had a Bad Year: A Look at the Best Titles of 2020 A.D.

By Orova

I feel like a recap or an intro that encompasses the past year will be redundant to both the reader and the writer, so I just won’t. Instead, I’ll just say that due to circumstances provided by 2020, I had a lot of time to just shut up and play games. And games did I play. I played a lot of good games[1]. I played a lot of bad games[2]. I bought the newest games that came out[3] and I went back down memory lane with some classics[4]. But at the end of every day, I was completely satisfied with how I spent my time and did what I wanted. So this is a list of the games that surpassed satisfaction, pushed the bar higher, and made me reconsider what a truly great game can be in 2020.

The Last Of Us Part II

This game is a beautiful work of art and storytelling. If gripping gameplay is what you came for, then you’ll be staying for the story. Naughty Dog continues to come out with games that push current gen Playstations to astronomical heights, making that hardware and software work overtime to get a game that becomes so overwhelmingly tangible that it cause the player to stop. The Last of Us Part II is no exception to this rule. So often does this game take lefts and rights when you expect it to go straight that it is absolutely insane how much ground it truly covers. Sneaking about before getting into claustrophobic gunfights feels smooth and natural, the new mechanics and enemies are unique, and while the non-linear parts can overstay their welcome at times, the game is long enough for them to not fill in empty space.

When I first played this, I was with my girlfriend for the whole journey and at the end, I didn’t feel quite as fulfilled as I thought I should’ve from the sequel to one of the greatest games I’ve ever played. It wasn’t until I returned on a higher difficulty did I find just how much this game has to offer, making the story all the more powerful as every fight truly felt like my last and every enemy made me rethink my choices and decision making and every arrow I fired and molotov I threw felt a nice weight to it that I have to emphasize once more. This game is a beautiful work of art and storytelling as the gameplay speaks for itself before anything else.

Final Fantasy VII Remake

To those that actually care, I reviewed this game when it came out[5] and I was shocked to find how many people didn’t appreciate it as much as I did. Final Fantasy VII is one of the most influential titles of my life that being able to see Cloud’s hair rendered so cleanly in this dystopian futuristic gothic fantasy world was a miracle in my eyes. A dream come true. The action comes in spades with enough sword fighting and magic to make Power Rangers to look like a fucking picnic.

The graphical design of the game, the direction of animation, and the cunning take on a lot of depth we never got to see so early on makes me very excited for future titles to come. There are some downsides, lots involving the side quests and voice acting, but that is just some of its downsides to look past to find the content at its core. Shooting moonbeams out of your greatsword at stormtroopers while in chase on a motorcycle. Take down a tyrannical oil monger as an eco-terrorist. Find cats for a little girl. Is this a Bioshock? No. But is it a game I keep trying to remind myself to not replay? Yes.

Tony Hawk Pro Skater 1 + 2 Remake

Superman by Goldfinger played and my sister laughed as she watched me cry. This game brought tears to my eyes, literally. As I got to relive sitting in my grandma’s basement, I was propelled to complete absolutely everything I wanted to do. This game was a complete package and its delivery was spot on with what a remake should be. A collection on a past game with quality of life improvements, enhanced handling and accessibility, and a software overhaul.

The game is simple. Complete challenges, unlock drip, flex on your friends. Usually in that order. But it is finally that simplicity in a new game that makes it such a good title. We wanted the game we knew and loved and they promised that. Nothing more, nothing less, it is exactly what we got. A new soundtrack, updated graphics, and nostalgia not most can achieve is a massive point to play this game.

Huntdown

Contra meets Kung Fury. Why the fuck have you not grabbed a friend and played this masterpiece yet. I mean seriously. If you’ve got a roommate or SO or friend with nothing going on tonight, play this shit. It’s great. Moving on.

Mortal Shell

I would like to address the fact that, yes, this is a souls-like and it isn’t exactly the most friendly game because of it. However, this game came out of fucking nowhere and blew me on my ass. Going back to delivering on a promise, these guys crafted an unforgiving title with little to no hand holding to show that this-THIS[6]-is how you make a souls-like. It is balls to the walls skill based combat where the player has to use what little tools they have to overcome a myriad of enemies. Progress is possible only through rewards and items, meaning there is no grinding or farming, just straight gameplay.

This is a game where I paid half the price for a full game and got, while a shorter title, the enjoyment from a full priced AAA game. It takes no time to complete when the “click” happens and it is a fun, fulfilling title the whole time. There are some incredibly unique mechanics that forced me to break my souls brain and for that, it just makes the experience far more personal. If you aren’t weak hearted, I cannot recommend Mortal Shell enough.

Doom Eternal

When Doom Eternal dropped, my sister was playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons. After we both went into respective video game comas from it, we dubbed March 20th Doom Crossing Day. Doom is Doom. Nothing more to say past that honestly, but I will continue my rambling cause I know it’s what you all want anyway.

These guys keep cranking the intensity knob higher and higher. With Doom 2016 these guys said, “Hey, what if we gave the best first person shooter that requires no thinking whatsoever to completely obliterate enemies and zoom around the map at breakneck speeds?” With Eternal, the guys said, “Hey, what if we did what we did for 2016 except this time, we actually have the everyone (enemies and the player) move faster, hit harder, and actually require them to think?” With that, the gore orgy of Doom Eternal was born. Still very much a fast paced shooter with some extra content to fill the pockets of completionists, it delivers in fucking truckloads exactly what it wants from the player. To let loose and fucking floor every hellish abomination in their path.

And the soundtrack, while a sad story, is still one of the best things to listen to in gaming and probably the world.

Darkwood

The only thing that made me stop to consider buying this game was how reliant on a crafting system it seemed. I hate games that force crafting. I don’t know why, so I won’t elaborate. But, done with The Last of Us Part II and needing a survival horror itch to scratch, I sucked it up and bought it. After all, being an indie title for a genre I admire more than most, it couldn’t have been a terrible waste of time. That was probably the single best decision I made during the last year and Darkwood is not lost on me in that sense.

The fact that Darkwood has not only exposed the horizon of top-down horror, but it has experimented and perfected its use for the camera angle is astounding. The atmosphere rides on that perspective and, between the short days of scavenging and talking to the few NPCs you meet to the long nights crouched in the corner of your (un)safe haven, it is never lost. It’s a game where you constantly hear your heart in your ears. The combat can be sloppy at times but the story is one of a kind and its execution is phenomenal. If you are a fan of horror games or roguelikes, I cannot tell you enough. Get Darkwood.

Deep Rock Galactic

After lots of thoughtful consideration, I have deemed this the number one title of 2020. Not only did it keep me and my friends together and in touch during the hard times, it is a shooter that I support with my whole body. You and your friends play as a team of drunk space dwarves, tasked with a mission that sends you deep into a spider-infested planet, where you will have to use your class sets to fight, plunder, and escape the hostile environment.

With PvE at its core and ridiculousness as its foundation, Deep Rock Galactic is a masterpiece of cooperative shooting and procedurally generated dungeon crawling. Blending class play from Team Fortress 2 with unexpected and differing missions from Darkest Dungeon, one will find this lighthearted shooter is an easy, accessible title. With a hint of Risk of Rain to complete its graphics, the game is above all fun. That’s right. It. Is. Just. Fun. Shoot a spider that launches fireballs from its mouth, drink beer that teleports you into the farthest reaches of space, get rich off of gold veins while your team calls you greedy, dye your beard purple, and Rock and Stone in this amazing fusion of PvE and dungeon crawling.

Thank you for coming. There will be no score. It is simply a list where I feel those that need some new titles after the biggest disappointment of them all[7] should find some great titles in here for themselves. Have a safe next year and be patient. Patience is what will reward you. Practice is what humbles you. Hesitation is defeat. Toodles.

[1] Ghostrunner

[2] Hellpoint

[3] Mafia: Definitive Edition

[4] Silent Hill 3

[5] 9/10

[6] Not you Hellpoint

[7] Cyberpunk 2077 but I mean, we all saw this coming. I had to put it in here somewhere.

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ladyanatui · 5 years ago

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Daiken Ultimate Playlist, Pt. 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

This is the abridged version of my Spotify playlist for all things Daiken, organized from the start of 02 to…eventually.

Part 3 specifically covers from not long after XV-mon and Stingmon first Jogress-evolve through Christmas.

TRIGGER WARNING: This post discusses depression, suicide, emotional abuse, and PTSD quite a lot. Take care of yourself, folks!

Spotify Playlist

Click the song titles for YouTube links (apparently you can’t have more than five videos in a post), and otherwise, enjoy me rambling about Daiken.

One final note: Within the lyrics, I’ve emphasized meaningful words, such as night/nightmare, dark/darkness, miracle(s), kind/kindness, courage/bravery, friend/friendship, sun/star/light, fire/burn/ignite, angel(s), and words related to water/drowning.

“Carry On” by fun.

Though I've never been through hell like that I've closed enough windows to know you can never look back

If you're lost and alone Or you're sinking like a stone Carry on May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground Carry on

And in the meantime, he knows that for Ken to feel better and move on, Ken needs to come to terms with his past while also not dwelling on it. Even by the end of the season, though, Ken still has a long way to go.

“Skin” Sixx:A.M.

When they start to judge you Show them your true colors And do unto others As you'd have done to you

Just rise above this Kill them with your kindness Ignorance is blindness They're the ones that stand to lose

One of Ken’s worst hangups about joining the team, though, is the fact that most of them still hesitate. Worst of all, Iori blatantly doesn’t want him there, though he does feel obligated to help Ken after Ken and Stingmon save his life. But Daisuke knows that as the others spend time with him and get to know him, they’ll love him just as much as he does.

“On My Own” by Ashes Remain

Every little thing that I've known Is everything I need to let go You're so much bigger than the world I have made So I surrender my soul I'm reaching out for your hope I lay my weapons down I'm ready for you now

And then, of course, there comes a time when Ken finally starts to come to terms with the fact that he can’t do this alone, that he needs their help and, more importantly, their friendship. This moment is difficult to pinpoint because it’s a slow process, but it’s probably right around episode 30 when Arachnemon creates BlackWarGreymon. Daisuke and Miyako trick him and Iori into working together in an attempt to get them to become friends, but the plan backfires when neither Ken nor Iori are fooled. But a few episodes later, by the time they’re defending the Holy Stones from BlackWarGreymon, Ken is working with the team.

And we can’t forget episode 35, where Daisuke invites Ken over for dinner to brainstorm about defeating BlackWarGreymon, and then suddenly it’s the next morning and Ken spent the night, which was definitely not part of the initial plan (they altered this in the English dub so that Daisuke asks him to spend the night after asking him over for dinner). The look on Ken’s face the following morning, when he wakes up to having spent the night at Daisuke’s home and watching their Digimon laugh and play together...it’s utterly heartwarming. He finally knows what it means to have a friend, and you couldn’t possibly find anyone more grateful.

“Doubt” by Twenty One Pilots

Temperature is dropping, temperature is dropping I'm not sure if I can see this ever stopping Shaking hands with the dark parts of my thoughts, no You are all that I've got, no

But that’s not to say that Ken doesn’t continue to have doubts. There’s still a darkness in him he cannot shake, and he still struggles to believe he deserves to have friends, especially friends so wholly devoted and affectionate like Daisuke.

“Slip the Noose” by The Maine

Break down, hysteric and young Uncomfortably numb Then you sent my pain into oblivion I was on the verge of breaking down Then you came around And not a second too late

It’s pretty safe to say that, by this point, he understands how important Daisuke has become to him, even as he tried to prevent it. This song especially points to Daisuke helping him fight off his suicidal ideations (it’s all in the title).

“Anchor” by Skillet

When I get tired of finding All of the fears I've been hiding You gave me a breath and tell me to rest You never left

This is another song that focuses on the supportive nature of their friendship. Daisuke spends the entire second half of 02 being exactly who Ken needs him to be. He’s the supportive friend who isn’t afraid to tell him the awful truth if the moment calls for it.

And although it’s rarely talked about, Ken is also exactly who Daisuke needs in his life. Ken probably doesn’t realize how important he is to Daisuke, but the goggle boy seriously needed someone who actually listens to him, who respects him, and who loves him--and that’s exactly who Ken becomes as their friendship develops.

“All You Did Was Save My Life” by Our Lade Peace

I'm not dying All you did was save my life Pulled me out of that flat line Put the heartbeat back inside I'm not dying

And overall, it’s not an exaggeration to say that Daisuke legitimately saved Ken’s life. He was the one to activate the Digimental of Miracles, he (and Magnamon) was the one to defeat the Digimon Kaiser, he was the one to prevent Ken from potentially killing himself to stop his base from exploding, and he is constantly the one there to remind Ken of who he needs to be and what he needs to do to overcome his past.

“Picking Up Pieces” by Blue October

How long will I be picking up pieces? How long will I be picking up my heart?

Listen, I'll be as honest as I feel I feel like I'm getting more paranoid and I'm hearing things And they never turn out real It feels like my heart is made of pure steel It's just so heavy all the time

These things take time. Lots of time. To the point where it feels like it will go on forever. Despite the phenomenal progress he makes in 02, even by the end of the season, he still has a long way to go.

“Midnight Thoughts” by Set It Off

Here I am, 12 a.m. Sunken deep into my bed Kept alive by the light of the moon Close my eyes, but my mind's got its own plan tonight And it keeps rubbing salt in the wound

I know it's too late As night turns to day Now there's no escaping the ghost

Throughout this period, Ken is also suffering from nightmares--reminders of his past, including the moment the Dark Seed bored into the back of his neck and changed everything. I’m sure, to him, it feels like no matter how much he tries, he will never be able to move past the pain he’s caused the Digimon and Digital World.

“A Bad Dream” by Keane

I wake up, it's a bad dream No one on my side I was fighting But I just feel too tired to be fighting Guess I'm not the fighting kind Wouldn't mind it If you were by my side

First off, a big thank you to @molkschatz for introducing me to this song--it’s perfect for Ken.

Obviously, this song too references his nightmares, but it has far more to do with his loneliness and fear of losing himself than the actual bad dreams. Ken isn’t your typical fighter--he’s not courageous and spirited the way Daisuke and Taichi are, but he has a strong sense of justice and of right and wrong, which is really why it’s so important for him to help the Digimon and fight against evil. And although he may not be a tradition example of passion, he’s passionate in his own subtle way, and having Daisuke and the other Chosen by his side allows him to explore that side of himself.

“I Don’t Belong Here” by I Prevail

Looking back on the past, all the time I wasted Running from everyone that tells me that I'm fading out Must be mistaken 'cause I, I, I don't feel anything You know I got this brain, it drives me insane Some days I feel I can't take the pain, I'm gone I can't explain it 'cause I, I, I don't need anything (no)

Even as he learns to get along with all the Chosen, Ken struggles most with feeling like he doesn’t belong with the group. This is emphasized, of course, by the fact that he is the only one who doesn’t live in Odaiba, aside from Jyou.

This is most apparent in the Christmas episode where Ken has a holiday party and invites the group. He’s absolutely terrified to invite Iori because he assumes he won’t want to attend, but to his surprise, Iori has accepted him and is pleased he received an invitation because he didn’t expect one. Later, after they send the Digimon who ruined Yamato’s concert back to the Digital World, Ken has to go back to Tamachi and this adorable little exchange happens:

Sora: Ichijouji-kun sure has changed, hasn’t he? Hikari: He sure has. Daisuke: Really? I haven’t noticed anything...

While everyone else is still getting to know Ken as Ken and figuring out how he fits in the group, Daisuke has always seen him this way and has always felt like he belongs.

“Without You” by Breaking Benjamin

Say something new I have nothing left I can't face the dark without you There's nothing left to lose The fighting never ends I can't face the dark without you

There are so many moments throughout the show where Ken forces himself into situations where he is trying to deal with his problems on his own, facing the darkness on his own. But he quickly learns that he needs Daisuke and, to a lesser extent, the others there to help him, and more importantly, that having them fighting by his side doesn’t make him weak.

“Secret Smile” by Semisonic

Nobody knows it but you've got a secret smile And you use it only for me

I associate this song a lot with the Christmas episode because of how big of a deal everyone makes about his laughter but also the episode where Daisuke invites Ken over to his house and Ken just has the most beautiful peaceful smile on his face (mentioned earlier). The truth is that Ken is decidedly different around Daisuke than the rest of them. He’s more relaxed and happy, and once he starts calling Daisuke by his first name, he only does so privately. If other people are around, he still refers to him by his family name even as Daisuke calls him Ken all the time. Their relationship is precious and special, and calling him Daisuke publicly ruins the intimacy of it.

“An Act of Kindness” by Bastille

An act of kindness Is what you show to me It caught me by surprise in this town of glass and eyes Kindness, so many people pass me by But you warm me to my core and you left me wanting more

As the bearer of Crest of Kindness, it’s kind of a big deal for Ken to look at Daisuke and see all the wonderful and utterly kind things that he does. Extending his friendship when he had absolutely no reason to (don’t tell Dai that), defending him and helping him without any expectations in return--Daisuke shows Ken true friendship, and to Ken, that is the biggest act of kindness he ever could have performed.

And again, there’s a reference to Daisuke as a source of heat, much like the sun (plus, you know, the Crest/Digimental of Courage is associated with fire).

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

#daiken #daisuke motomiya #ken ichijouji #digimon #digimon 02 #playlist #trigger warning #suicide #emotional abuse #ptsd #depression #mental health #anatui

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thecradlerocks · 5 years ago

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Baby Sleep Miracle Review: Does This Truly Get Baby To Sleep?

"If you are a new sleepless mother, then you should read the Baby Sleep Miracle review. This will offer you a program that will literally save your mind" - Martha Devos (new mother). Tired of those sleepless nights because your child doesn't let you sleep? Do your child's sleepless nights frustrate or irritate you? I am sure this is the case and that is why you are reading this, searching to find an effective solution to your intolerable nights. Ask a mother the simple question: What is the hardest part of being a mother? The most common answer given by almost all mothers is the sleep of their babies. This is often the case because not all mothers have the proper expertise or techniques to put their babies to sleep at night without crying and fusing.

I need to sleep.... grrrr Most parents, especially the first time parents face many difficulties with young children because it is at this age (from one to three years) that babies bother parents the most. Tired of your little child who wakes you up over and over again overnight? Do you think it's time to end all this drama and get some rest? If your answer is YES, you will benefit from this Baby Sleep Miracle review. This program is the solution to your night problems. It will teach you many techniques you can use to put your baby to sleep perfectly. It also contains some helpful tips and advice on how to care for your child's health. I decided to write an in-depth review of this program, as I still use the information I learned from breastfeeding my 4-month-old baby. After reading my review, you can decide whether this product is right for you or not. One of the main reasons I decided to write this Baby Sleep Miracle Review is that when I decided to buy it, there were lots of biased reviews with endless product ads. On the other hand, my review is neutral and only provides a real truth about this product. Now that you've heard about me a little bit, it's time to learn more about the Baby Sleep Miracle. What is it and who is it for? At the end of this article, I can be sure that you can determine whether this product will work for you and your little one as one of the best sleep training methods.

Who is Mary-Ann Schuller? The Author Of Baby Sleep Miracle Book

Mary Anne helps your baby sleep. The writer is a lady named Mary Ann Schuller. Mother of two children and a psychologist by her profession.

With over 20 years of experience in child psychology, she definitely knows what she's saying. From her long experience in psychology, when it comes to dealing with the sleep of babies, she first developed these simple instructions that will turn mothers into experts. Mary-Ann fully understands the feelings of deficiency that most parents, especially mothers, experience when their children cannot stop crying and sleeping. Guilt overwhelms them as they begin to see themselves as bad moms. Therefore, she invented tested techniques to help parents cope with the sudden changes in their children's sleep. If you have finished reading your book, get ready to experience your child's miracle while you sleep at night and be less angry when you wake up. Of course, you cannot emphasize the amount of rest that can help increase the mood of most mothers. When stress is less and you rest very well, motherhood is fun for all mothers. The information shared by Mary Ann came from numerous studies and research at the Stanford Sleep Science and Medicine Center and Harvard Medical School. Having said that, it's time to figure out what this product really is. The funny thing is that before I bought this product, I thought it was an online course because all the references and reviews I watched were all in video format. What does this program look like?

Baby Sleep Miracle is an e-book that you can download or print after the purchase. To be honest, discovering that the software is an ebook disappointed me a bit as I expected a full price recorded video course. I found the price of this ebook is way too high compared to the three eBooks I bought before, none of them priced more than $ 40. The high price of this ebook surprised me, but I chose to ignore it as the content of the ebook is the most important thing. If this were my products, maybe I would give a respectable name like Baby Sleeping Miracle pdf so people know exactly what they get after the purchase. But still, the most important thing is the content of this book, which I will share with you shortly after discussing who this product is meant for. Who Is This For? The reason I searched for such a product is that when my baby reaches about two months, my sleep was destroyed. In the first weeks after my son was born, I woke up every night to feed him. But with the baby sleep miracle, your child can finally sleep overnight At a very thin age, children still haven't known the world, so my child wakes up most part of the night. Nothing changed until it got two months. Then he started waking up all night long. Things got so bad that I was always exhausted every day and night and had to find a good way to put a baby to sleep.

I almost gave up but I knew I couldn't because this innocent little person trusts and depend on me. This product is for every mother who suffers from night sleep literally due to her baby. However, if the book does not match its claims, all of this is meaningless. In short, the Baby Sleep Miracle review is an ideal review for parents that are Don't want to wake up all night and have enough rest. Attentive, loving, flat-headed and ready to complete education Being willing to take time to apply various techniques discussed in the e-book By applying the techniques discussed in this ebook, you will benefit greatly from the simple and direct guidance given to the baby's sleep. Later in this article, I will explain how this product works for my child and why these are some of the best baby sleep training programs out there. What does it contain? As mentioned earlier, this product is just an ebook and is structured like most ebooks available on the Internet. I do not underestimate the ebooks, because it depends on what the value of each ebook is, but I am somewhat surprised after reading this product as a program which I thought was a video format.

In addition to the real product, I also bought the upsell around $5 and it turned out to be an e-book with useful information about newborns. The ebook itself is $40 and is about 110 pages long. You will need a couple of days to finish reading the books. However, this product contains a variety of valuable information that you can start applying right away. The e-book consists of three additional products, a kind of calm miracle music and two other e-books. These three books give you a lot of information and advice to take care of your child. The 3 e-books provides tips and tricks about caring for your little one and you'll definitely enjoy your sleep, moving forward. This ebook provides a comprehensive overview of the following baby sleep topics: The importance of napping for babies. Why is it important for children to get enough sleep? The different stages of development and how it affects children's sleep. Negative effects associated with lack of sleep. How to prepare for sleep training. An important technique for your child to sleep. Positive effects of routine. Simple sleep rules for kids. Comprehensive sleep guide for children up to five years old. The benefits of feeding children consistently. The importance of a safe environment for babies.

The Baby Sleep Miracle Review

If you are in the market before, reviewing and researching various tips and tricks online to help you put your baby to sleep, then you're probably motivated purely by self-interest rather than acting for honorable or unselfish reasons. . You may not believe that something is working out there. This is pretty good because most articles, ebooks, and videos with baby sleep routines often contain tips that don't work. This is because they're not written by mothers or those with relevant academic / scientific backgrounds to provide useful advice. They're not based on real research. But the baby sleep miracle is not part of them. This is very different. It was written by a famous child psychologist and is based on extensive research. Just two or three weeks after reading, you will know why most Baby Sleep Miracle reviews on blogs and social media are so positive. Why Because the tips and tricks in it are very useful and effective. They are also very easy to follow and give you solid advice, for example, when your baby will sleep through the night. But this is not what I am going to show in this section of baby sleep miracle review. . This is the in-depth part where I everything in the e-book for you. Thus, the e-book is divided into sections. Just four sections, and the entire book is only one hundred pages, so that reading will not take much time. Just in case 100 pages sound too much, don't worry about it. There are sub-chapters for certain ages, where you can easily find advice and tips about sleep for a specific child's age.