#if an aspect of my work might be questionable then I’d like to hear it and consider it

[cursedwretch]

What Lurks Beneath - Chapter 3

Viktor x AFAB!Reader; Word count: 4442 Words; Rating 18+ MDNI for Eventual Smut

AO3 | Prev

CW: Some slight ableism this chapter.

My mind—the restless, wandering thing—is only half on-task. The other drifts back to the shared lab—it’s cool metal shelves and sterile walls, the bite of chemicals hanging in the air. Specifically, the fresh set of samples waiting for me patiently in the fridge, which had been procured over a couple of visits to the undercity. Waiting. Ever the gentleman, Viktor insisted on coming with each time.

The words on the page before me blur as I twirl my pen.  It’s only a quick jot away from the office. Perhaps I could take lunch there instead of at my desk. A bit questionable? But, tempting.

Unfortunately for me, Heimerdinger appears intent on giving me a stroke at the big hour of 9am instead. Breaking the silence, he asks, “have you considered presenting at the symposium?”

I let out a sputtering cough, eyes widening. Across the room, he waits.

“I hadn’t,” I gawk, “I’m not sure I have anything worth presenting, sir.”

He wags a finger my way, regarding me with a stern brow that I’d find intimidating on any other man. “I’ve seen too many a great scientist fall prey to false modesty.”

I frown.

“I have on good authority from a certain predecessor of yours that your research holds great potential, my girl,” He preaches. I pinch my nose at the term as he continues, “with a little hard work and guidance, of course!”

I tap my pen against the page, marking up the margins of the poor student’s paper haphazardly. Dot dot dotdotdot.

“I’ll think about it,” I say at last.

His eyes narrow for a moment, disappointed, before light flashes behind them. “Perhaps a private space is in order.”

I gape. That’s quite the bribe. What could possibly motivate this sudden investment in my career? “Sir I—”

“Now, now,” he repeats, closing his eyes as he walks into his adjoining office, “I won’t hear another word. Consider it!!”

His door clicks shut.

I sigh. I’d have to live and breathe my research, especially with the symposium at the end of the quarter. But I could possibly secure funding for my project. No more personal bankrolling and personal time and borrowed supplies. My nose pinches, I could care less about the competitive aspect. Progress, however…

“Sir,” my voice cuts the silence like a knife, “I’ll take you up on that lab.”

***

It’s in that very lab that I see Viktor next.

The space is a mess, as all good labs are. Half-empty boxes in the corner, a sparse arrangement of supplies scattered throughout the rest. But it’s my own, and it is wonderful. Finally able to break away from the small mountain of paperwork, I hum softly to myself as I work.

“I thought I might find you here,” a familiar lilting voice speaks.

My eyes remain glued to the microscope, the corners of my mouth tugging upwards, “I think I have you to thank for this.”

A few paces closer, I hear him shrug as he sets an object on the table, “eh, hardly.”

I look up. Standing at my side, he takes the room in with curious eyes. Drinking in each detail. Atop the desk sit a notebook and a mechanical pencil—sturdy, with a surprisingly ornate metal casing. He lifts his hand, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“A lab-warming gift,” he says, a small laugh escaping him. His mouth is a half-grimace, color dusting his cheeks.

I laugh, and he sharply turns, muttering something about ‘taking his leave’ as he stalks towards the exit.

“Hey, hold up, Vik.”

His steps falter, he keeps his back to me as he waits, tilting his head in my direction.

“I’m sure you’re sick of these little excursions, and this one isn’t in the undercity, so, no pressure.” My foot taps erratically, and I can feel the back of my neck heating as I continue, “anyways, I’m going to take some benthic samples from where the river is widest. I’ve arranged for a boat next week. You’re welcome to come.”

He blinks at me. A beat passes, and when I’m positive I’ve made a horrible fool of myself and overstepped, he replies, “I would… enjoy that.”

Oh. His expression is surprisingly gentle.

That’s that, then.

***

It’s that same expression that graces his features as he leans his arms against the railing, watching where the river meets the coast while we pull away from the wharf. Eyes wide, mouth parted. That not-quite-crease in his brow softening, as if he’s five years younger. He takes a deep breath in. Out.

“I’m starting to move on to biodiversity surveys,” I say. It’s an excuse to talk, and a rather lame one. I’ll take any.

He hums, eyes still scanning the coast, “hence the benthic samples.”

“Exactly,” I look over the edge of the ship into the deep dark below, I shudder, all too aware of what lay beneath. “I need samples of the less... polluted areas of the river anyways. Two birds: meet stone.”

He propped his chin on his elbow, looking at me from the side of his eye, “how soon will you return to the undercity? I imagine your timeline has moved forward.”

“Something like that. Though, I’m not sure when.” I laugh, shifting closer to nudge him with my elbow, “and how is your presentation? Prepared?”

He grimaced, but doesn’t budge, “mh, we will be. More or less.”

“How confident,” I laugh dryly.

The corner of his mouth twitches, “no, I don’t think I’ll be prepared for that until after it’s already done.”

My eyebrows raise.

“The prototype, however, is nearly ready to go!” he says with mock enthusiasm. He rubs at his chin, “I am.. eh, not a fan of public speaking.”

“Huh. You could have fooled me.”

“Funny,” he clipped.

“I’m serious. You’re always so,” I wave towards him, searching for the word, “confident.”

He squints at the water. Reading a page that’s not quite there. With another tilt of the head, he looks at me. Eyes focused, bright. “Self-assurance does not necessitate a lust for the limelight,” he says, his gaze shifting back to the water for a moment before returning to mine. There’s a flicker in his eyes, something I can’t quite decipher.

If we were closer, I’d call bullshit. Instead, I settle on a lopsided smile, “fair enough, Viktor.”

The trip proves surprisingly fruitful, save for one glaring issue: the ecosystem is under much more strain than I initially anticipated. Still, it was nice to see Viktor so… relaxed. Soft.

If I want to have a half-decent report in the next handful of weeks, I’ll need to do more faunal surveys. Measurable surveys. Possibly even find a link between the inevitable biomagnification and Piltover’s economy, if I’m really lucky. And all of this requires one thing. A knot forms in my stomach.

I’ll need to seek out Professor Haynes. Head of the Marine Biology department and God-king of supplies. A few of which I need.

***

It’s fairly early in the morning, the academy halls still quiet as I approach his door.

I rap on his office door, calling out, “sir?”

A quick grunt of ‘come in’ and I’m standing beyond the threshold. My eye’s scan the edges of his room. A mess of books line the shelves as sun pours through the window, the columns of light highlighting each speck of dust. Beige and musty. I fear my smile comes across as more of a grimace as I greet the man behind the desk.

“Ah, you’ve been making quite a stir,” he smiles up at me, though his eyes hold no warmth.

I cough, shifting on my foot, “I haven’t accomplished anything worth ‘stirring’ over, sir.”

“True.”

I tongue my cheek. Okay, I may have walked into that. Still, it stings. I swallow down my reaction.

He’s keen on twisting the dagger, “your little pet project has, at least. Especially considering the… location.”

I shrug, “it’s fairly standard, sir. I recall learning about habitat restoration from you during my studies. Why not improve our own back yard?”

His eyes narrow, leaning backward as he regards me, “what brings you to my office?”

“I need an electrofisher, sir.”

“Unfortunately, they’re all booked for the next 6 months.”

Bullshit. Utter bullshit. “Is there no way sir—“

“Do you have any idea how many requests I receive for such equipment? They’re all in use for the foreseeable future.” He waves a dismissive hand. “Perhaps you should choose a less ambitious area of study.”

I grit my teeth, the urge to slam the door on my way out all too great.

***

Heimerdinger is hardly more receptive. Supportive, yes. But intent on taking Haynes’ side—or, at least, believing his end of the story. My heart pulses wildly as I sit in his office for the second time today. He insisted on speaking to Haynes himself after the first. Citing my need for patience and ensuring me that it couldn’t possibly be driven by any personal biases. A few hours later, he returns to the office with a pleased smile, motioning for me to follow.

Of course, his idea of good news is out-of-touch:

“You will have access to your equipment in a few weeks, my dear,” he declares.

My heart sinks. “Sir, I don’t have many weeks left—“

“I know, I know,” he sighs, “but there’s nothing to be done. A little patience and you’ll see; the time will fly right by!”

I huff, standing from my chair so fast the chair rubs against the floor with a loud groan. “Thank you for your time, sir,” I grit out.

Eager to escape, I nearly run face first into Jayce’s stunned self waiting in the main room outside. I mutter a quick apology, sidestepping him as I make my way to the courtyard. My usual spot. A bench tucked away amongst the trees; perfect for lunch, fuming, or a combination of the two.

The air was warm, but a dark cloud hung low on the horizon, mirroring the storm brewing inside me. Weeks. He wants me to wait weeks? My research can’t afford it. Especially given the gods-forsaken timetable his insistence put me on. I pick at my nails as I glare out across the courtyard.

Jayce, it appears, has followed after.

“Hey,” he pants, jogging to standing above me.

My eyes shift towards him, narrowing, I give him a polite nod. We don’t often speak, what purpose could he have with me now?

“I heard your conversation with Heimerdinger,” he starts.

Ah, that.

I bristle, watching him expectantly.

“In my experience, pushback generally means you’re on the right path.” His smile is lopsided.

I blinked, the air catching in my throat. Right. He’d been Piltover’s golden boy—Heimer’s personal protégé—for so many years I nearly forgot, “you were nearly expelled.”

He starts at first, a moment of surprise crossing his features. It quickly melts into a fond smile, eyes glazed and far-off. “I was,” he confirms, “it was Viktor that saved my research.”

“Right,” I exhale. I distantly wonder if he’s always had a habit of doing that. Supporting from the wings. Guilt gnaws in my stomach.

Jayce coughs, a put-on little noise to buy him confidence to say the next words to a near-stranger, “V says the work you’re doing is good.”

I nod, shifting in my seat. I’m eager to look anywhere but his direction, choosing instead to watch the students and professors walking across the quad. Uncomfortable. Yet, a part of my heart sings. My voice comes out stilted, “I keep hearing that.”

“Keep at it,” he says, earnest, “steal a damn boat if you have to.”

I snort, “thanks, Jayce.”

He nods, eyes glued to the building over as he nods once more—towards at himself more than me. An awkward wave, and he’s returning towards Heimer’s office.

***

I opt out of larceny, for the time being. Choosing instead to conduct visual surveys, in addition to a few other benthic grabs. Which, naturally, means more Undercity visits.

We worked backwards, this time. Ending up at the uppermost research site; a calm, brighter alcove on the river. The space is shielded from prying eyes and relatively clean. As far as the undercity goes, at least. The crisp air still holding that metallic undercurrent, but lacking all the usual rot and decay. Viktor sets delicately atop a boulder, ankles tucked against it.

I watch as he scribbles labels on the sample jars, delicate fingers holding it eye-level as he writes with the other hand.

“You sure this isn’t your true calling, Viktor?” I tease scribbling notes in my field journal. Bird counts, visible flora and fauna in the areas we’ve visited. It’s a slow process.

He laughs for a second, before growing serious as the words sink on, “mh, no, biology is not a preferred subject of mine.”

My brows pinch together. “Don’t invite you out next time, noted.”

He looks at me from the corner of his eye, mouth quirking up. And there’s something in the way his eyes are glazed over that has me leaning towards him, asking, “did you study biology? When you were younger?”

It’d make sense—why he so quickly picked up on these things.  Second nature, like riding a bike.

“When I was very young, yes,” he replied. Called it. His lips form a thin line that I’m learning means he doesn’t intend on elaborating. Alright, then.

I set down my notebook, sighing as I stand. He watches me, expression closely guarded as he waits for my next move. I think he’s used to people pressing him. Instead, my fingers rise to the buttons of my blouse.

It takes a moment before the gears slide into place. “What are you doing?” He sputters.

I shrug, “diving.”

He gawks, before snapping his gaze away as the shirt slips off my shoulders to reveal the wet suit beneath.

“Relax, dork,” I laugh, kicking off my pants as well, “I’m wearing something under.”.

“I will not relax,” he hisses, “it’s dangerous!”

I shrug, crouching down to rifle through my bag for my goggles and rebreather. “Can you swim, Viktor?”

If the way he glowers at me is enough to say no, the way he whacks my calf with his cane is enough to shout it.

I laugh, “noted.”

A satisfied smirk crosses his face momentarily before he swallows, his eyes flickering from my face downward haphazardly until he averts his gaze entirely. “I’m able to swim,” he clarifies, “I simply never learned.”

“You should,” I reply, walking towards the water. It’s cold. Damn near frigid on my skin. I hiss as I muscle past the pins pricking into my skin with each step. “I could teach you, sometime.”

Back at the shore, he watches; ears flaming red as he blinks rapidly. Another harsh swallow. He holds my gaze in a way that makes me crave the cool of the water. Biting the bullet, I let myself sink.

The beneath water is tinged green, hazy—streaks of that odd oil-slick iridescence as the light refracts into columns. Errant trash from above collects in crags of the rocks along the floor. Empty. So, heartbreakingly empty. I pop back up.

Above, still perched on his rock, Viktor watches. Lips a thin line, eyebrows heavy. His fists tense and relax as I resurface.

I pull off my rebreather momentarily, “Vik? Take notes for me?”

He nods, scrambling across to grab my notebook from the boulder across from him. He blinks up at me, waiting. I dive back below.

We work like that for some time. Resurfacing every few minutes to rattle off the various species I do manage to find. His eyes flicker—concern, relief, and back again as I dive down. Finally, he speaks up, voice strained, “you really should stop.”

Whatever brief shyness was there earlier is gone as he glowers at me as I rise from the water.

“A warning, next time,” he huffed, thumb idly pressing into the palm of his hand.

I nod, stepping back to my bag to grab the towel I stashed inside. He watches me from his periphery as I grab my clothes, as well. I stand, taking a step closer. With my spare hand, my fingers slide atop his hair—incredibly soft, god, of course it had to be soft—guiding his head to face away.

“See that rock?” I laugh, breathless.

“Hm?” His voice is strained.

“Eyes there, soldier.”

He shifts, back straightening as I let him go. As I quickly slip out of my wetsuit and into my clothes, I note his foot tapping rapidly against the ground, and oh the red is back. Flaming tips of his ears that I would very much like to kiss. I shake my head, biting back a laugh as I complete the last of the buttons on my shirt.

“Okay, let’s go,” I breathe.

The walk back is quiet, but comfortable. It isn’t until we’re tucked away into the bathysphere that he speaks, “you shouldn’t endanger yourself. It would be better to borrow the supplies you need.”

I laugh, “Jayce told you about that, huh?”

“I’m serious,” he urges. His thumb still worries at his palm, skin red.

I ignore his statement, “what’s wrong with your hand?”

“Nothing,” his hands still, fingers flexing, “just gets sore sometimes.”

I grab his wrist, pulling his hand towards me, he makes a small noise of shock. But makes no move to pull away as I speak, “I won’t make a habit of it, Viktor. Though, you could argue stealing from the academy is endangering oneself.”

He doesn’t reply, instead blinking down at our hands. I keep my touch light, smoothing out the muscle in his hand, from his thumb down to where his and hand wrist me. He swallows, looking back out the bathysphere window.

“We hit a snag with our prototype for the demonstration,” he sighs, “I’ll have to ‘buckle down,’ as Jayce puts it, for a bit.”

I hum in reply. A little, selfish part of me savors the feel of his skin on mine as I see the top of the railway nearing. I slow to a near stop.

His hand is ripped from mine as the door opens, though not unkindly. He’s the first to scramble out.

On the platform, to the side, I look up at him. “Are you headed back to the lab?”

His answering look says that was a stupid question, and it’s my turn to glower at him.

“If you’re going to lecture me about putting my body in jeopardy,” I raise my brow, “you should listen to your own warnings.”

He scoffs, rolling his shoulder, fingers flexing out form the handle of his cane. “I’m fine.”

“I know you are,” I reply.

He stares down at me, and I can tell I’m rubbing him the wrong way. So I add, “it’s been a long day. You can burn the candle at both ends tomorrow.”

A beat, and he nods, sighing.

“Have a good night, Vik,” I say, patting him on the arm as I walk away.

***

Days blend into weeks—just a couple. Regardless, it feels far too stagnant for my liking. All my previous samples have been processed, and I have the burning desire to return. To move forward. It beats its ever-present thrum of a song in the back of my mind.

Perhaps I’m being a little impatient. In all fairness, it’s hard not to be, with my research being arbitrarily held hostage by a man with enough biases to fill a lake. Much like the torrential downpour that has filled the river over the past week. It’s been a couple days since the rain stopped, and the river is at its crest.

Up by half a meter, it seems.

The air smells of ozone and metal. I drop a wire with a weight affixed to it into the water’s depths at one of our spots along the river. A bit rudimentary, but easily transportable and much less likely to grab attention than lugging a staff gauge through the city would be. Careful not to get myself robbed, or worse, I opted for quick and light. A notebook, Viktor’s gift pencil, tucked into a small bag hidden beneath my coat.

Viktor, I expect, would be livid to find me here alone.

What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.

I pull up on the wire as soon as it hits the bottom. 2.8 meters. I’ll have to return again in a few days to confirm my estimate. I start winding.

“Not quite the ideal place for a tour, topsider,” comes a controlled voice from behind. Dropping the wire into the water entirely, cursing, as I turn to look; mismatched eyes meeting my own. My skin crawls. He’s dressed well, which, somehow, is all the more concerning. You don’t make money like that in the undercity without spilling blood.

“Fortunately I’m not a tourist,” I say back, hoping my voice comes across as neutral.

Eyebrows pinch, followed by the thin line of his mouth breaking into a wolffish grin. The kind that devours for sport. His head tilts, sizing me up with a snaking glance. “No, you aren’t.”

He takes a few paces, coming to stand at my shoulder, looking out at the water. “I’ve been monitoring you, you know. Topsider academic coming to the undercity, never a good sign…” his voice trails off, sign said with a taunting little lilt. Like a private joke with an old friend. He’s enjoying toying with me, I realize.

“I’m not up to anything—“

“I will be the judge of that,” he sneers, “though in this case, I do believe you’re telling the truth.”

My shoulders relax, just a little.

His answering stare is a command: elaborate.

“I’m a marine biologist,” I supply, “researching habitat restoration.”

“How altruistic,” he scoffs, “for what purpose?”

I pause, head tilting.

“Nothing comes without a motivation,” he explains, voice bored as if speaking to a child. There’s something else, though. It’s laced with conviction. A creed.

I shift my eyes away from his, fixing them on the water. “Those are my own concern,” it’s a stupid response, and one I’m sure he doesn’t often hear. Quick to add an olive branch, I say, “I can assure you I mean no harm to the people here.”

He laughs dryly. “That so? How rare.”

I swallow.

He regards me for a moment, searching my eyes for an answer. Whatever he finds, it must be satisfactions as his lithe hand is held out. As I take it, he purrs, “to finding opportunities below, then. I expect you’ll find plenty of resistance above.”

I respond with a level stare, “I appreciate your candor.”

He smirks.

“Better return soon, girl,” he shrugs, “be in touch.”

A threat?

I don’t bother replying, watching as he stalks off. I wait a few minutes before I make my own retreat. As I cross the lanes, I stare back at that neon eye hovering above us all.

Watching.

Quite the calling card.

***

The next day, I bury myself in books. Stacks of them fetched from the academy library over multiple trips sit towering across the tables in my lab. I groan, burying my face in the latest: a rather dated book titled Restorative Ecology for Acquatic Systems.

A rap at the door, and I’m smirking into the pages as I call out a quick ‘come in.’ I don’t get many visitors. Yet.

“Hey,” I breathe, looking up to see Viktor standing before me.

Purple pools sit beneath his eyes. I frown. He has been burning the candle at both ends, then.

“Hello,” he echoes with a smile. A bit of bright breaking through the exhaustion.

“You look tired,” the words tumble out before I can help it. He gives a little shrug, sheepish. God, why isn’t he saying anything? I’ve nothing to offer but hot air, “how’s the prototype?”

“Good, good,” his eyes continue scan the room, “and your research? I was looking for you yesterday.”

I cringe.

His eyes narrow.

I look down, running my fingers along the pages, “I went to the undercity.”

He frowns, taking a step closer with a heavy sigh. I start to ramble, “really, Vik, it was just one trip. I needed my research—”

I stop myself. I don’t need to defend myself on this. So, what?

“You could have asked me,” is all he says.

The way he stares down at me, rubbing his thumb across his lower lip, a hint of disappointment in his eyes, makes my breath catch. The truth spills out unbidden, “you were busy and, after last time, I didn’t want to unnecessarily drag you across the city just to spend five minutes measuring the water.”

“Last time?” He blinks, cogs turning behind his eyes.

My own eyes flicker down to his leg. Involuntarily.

Hurt flashes across his face, his jaw tightening. I swallow, the silence stretching between us. This is going completely, unnecessarily, wrong.

 He takes a deep breath in. Out.

“Let me be very clear,” he says, taking a step closer, “I do not need you to infantilize me.”

“Viktor,” I sigh, “I wasn’t—“

“Stop,” he spits, eyes burning into mine, “I am perfectly capable of deciding what is too much and what will fit into my schedule.”

I can feel my face burning—cheeks hot, head light. I push back from the table, standing to face him head on. The air thickens. “You’re a complete, utter hypocrite, Viktor.”

His mouth opens, surprise flickering across his features as I close the remaining space between us. I can feel the heat radiating off him.

“You are,” I continue with a poke to his sternum, “I don’t need babying, either, Viktor. I’m a grown woman—a perfectly rational one—who can assess risk and travel alone just fine. The fact that this is even an argument is ridiculous.”

He stares down at me, a glint of something unreadable as his gaze drops to my mouth. His breath hitches. Something hot and electric curls in my stomach.

It’d be so easy to close that gap.

“Leave, Viktor.” I sigh, sitting to return to my books, “I don’t have time for this.”

I feel frigid even saying it.

He stands above me for a moment longer, and from the edge of my vision I see his knuckles turn white as his hand fidgets and flexes. One, two, three times. A ragged sigh and he’s stomping off, door slamming behind him.

[rottika]

i love how each of your character who is an abuser either has ASPD and NPD!

Eugh, well, prepare for an essay because I have a lot to say here.

Well, first of all, you are misinformed on that. While Arthur, Blair, and Vince (who I am assuming you are referring to????) all have ASPD (Arthur having comorbid NPD and Vince having comorbid BPD), a LOT of other characters on the morally questionable/reprehensible list like Freddie, Victoria, Elliot, Angel (currently a character in development), and Arthur’s (unnamed) bio dad don’t have ASPD or NPD at all. In fact, Freddie, Elliot, Arthur’s bio dad, and Angel don’t have any personality disorders or any mental health issues period, despite many of them being on the morally shitty scale.

This is also kind of besides the point, but I also want to point out that, time and time again, I have made clear that my characters and their shittiness is bolstered and exaggerated on purpose and is not supposed to be at all 100% realistic. It’s a black comedy mostly built on absurdist, out of pocket humour. It’s an outlet for me to cope with my past trauma and pain. Some of that pain, yes, originating from people with mental health disorders that influenced the way they treated me.

Just because a couple of my bad characters have cluster B personality disorders (I literally have a cluster B personality disorder myself, that being BPD) does not mean that I think everyone with such a disorder is an abuser??? Like, sometimes mentally ill people do things that are bad. Shocker, mental illnesses warp peoples’ perceptions of the world, themselves, and other people. Sometimes mental illness is painful, for both the sufferer and those in their life. Sometimes mental illness is scary. Sometimes those perceptions can inspire people to make mistakes or to hurt others. From experience, I’ve hurt people deeply without meaning to because of how my mental illnesses causes me to view the world (which is my responsibility, of course, but did stem from my disability nonetheless). Disorders are “disorders” for a reason. Again, I must stress, just because a couple of my characters with disorders are bad doesn’t mean I think the average mentally ill person is an evil sadistic murder rapist abuser or something.

I think it would be a fair criticism to suggest I include more positive representation for people with NPD and ASPD, because I would agree! Maybe I should include more positive rep, I think that’s a great idea. But heavily implying I’m ableist because a couple of my abusive or bad characters—out of a VERY long list of them, by the way—have mental illnesses is just… not at all representative of my feelings on the matter.

Plus, just want to point out that being passive aggressive is more likely to get my borderline ass to lash out and refuse to hear any valid critique as a whole—I was very tempted to just block and ignore this rather than taking a second to actually consider what you were saying. Maybe approach me with a bit more tact next time, gorge. I’m open to criticism when it’s constructive.

[riovidalupdates]

LAST GIRL STANDING - ii.

previous part

pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader, agatha harkness x fem!reader, rio vidal x fem!reader

summary: you’ve come to learn that you can love more than one person—because you love them in different ways. the problem: they love you in one way. so, who are you in love with and who gets hurt?

warnings: minor cursing.

a/n: apologies for taking so long for an update. my job is about 10+ hours for four days and on my off days i'm working on set designs so i'm usually sleeping when i get the chance. please go back and reread the first part of this series as i had revised and edited parts of it while adding more to it. I will be adding a taglist soon, if you wish to for me to add you, let me know! with that, enjoy!

You headed to the library, your mind still racing with the remnants of your conversation with Wanda from last night. You had a few hours before your film history class started, and you needed time to clear your head before facing Agatha, the insanely attractive TA, who had unknowingly occupied a corner of your heart for the past semester. You didn’t really know Agatha well enough (or at all) to say much about her, aside from the occasional conversation about coursework. Yet, you had spent countless hours thinking about her, imagining what it would be like to know her beyond the confines of the classroom.

There was a familiarity to her presence that was both reassuring and nerve-wracking. The few times you’d spoken outside of lectures never seemed to work in your favor. You were unable to get more than two words out before something catastrophic occurred like spilling coffee on yourself, stepping in a pile of dog shit, and maybe tripping over a tree branch into a pit of mud(you are not god's favorite).

You'd scurry away before Agatha could do anything. In fact, you'd just barely hear a quiet but polite, "Goodbye?" You only glance over your shoulder when you were far enough away, seeing the outline of her body still in the same place but with her stare directly at you.

Getting lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the presence of another leaning over the table and whispering, “Careful, y/n. If you think any harder, you might accidentally unlock the secrets of the universe.”

You blink, glancing up and see Wanda. “Or I might just discover where all my missing socks go. That’s probably a more realistic goal.”

The redhead giggles, pulling out the chair next to you and sits. “Hey, I’d argue that’s an even bigger mystery. You’d probably get a Nobel Prize for solving that one.”

“I fear that will only end with me having more mismatched socks and even more questions. And maybe a headache.”

Wanda smiles, tilting her head to the side as she always does when you humor her. You can’t help the warmth of blush creep up on your cheeks and ears. It was a habit when you had that type of attention from her. It was never necessarily a bad thing. More so, weird because you don’t completely understand it. You do, yet you don’t at least.

You continue to watch the way she falls into a fit of giggles as she scrunches up her nose and leans forward, causing her hair to cascade over her shoulders. There was always elegance surrounding Wanda. Wherever her presence was, it followed.

You are never one to deny how objectively gorgeous the shorter girl is, but there’s more to her than just physical features. More to Wanda than what you and everyone else around her knew, though, her soul radiates an amplified aspect of exactly how natural her beauty is. What you may not know, may be the one thing that fuels it all.

“So, what’s got you in a deep thought?” You hear her ask.

“The fact that we as humans grow limbs. We start off as an egg and then we grow. We grow arms, legs, fat, eyeballs, bones. Everything. We do that. We start as nothing and then boom! We have these…” you frail your arms around in front and Wanda has to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“How about we go get some snacks before you head to class? I hear thinking causes hunger and existential crisis.”

You smile, nodding your head. “I think you need to start reading again. All those romcoms are getting to you.”

And so what if you’re are going through a form of crisis? Wanda is here. It may not be as easy as flipping a switch, but her presence is enough for you to feel 2% of sanity.

-

Today is no different. You stayed after class, lingering just long enough to ask Agatha a question about the upcoming exam, hoping it might lead to a longer conversation.

“Do you have any suggestions for additional reading?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

Agatha looked up from the papers she was grading, her expression thoughtful. “There’s a great essay on sexuality and gender within horror films if you’re interested in some extra insight. I can send you the link if you’d like.”

“That would be great,” you replied, and for a moment, your eyes met in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

But then, just like that, she turned back to grading, and the moment was gone. It was always like this—brief glimpses of something deeper, but never enough to grasp. You couldn’t tell if you were reading too much into it, or if there really was a chance that Agatha saw you as more than just another student.

It really shouldn’t be much of a shock to you. The two of you are nothing more than just a student and a teacher assistant. You aren’t friends. She has no need to delve into her personal life with you.

While Agatha has checked out from the conversation, you hadn’t. There’s more that you want to say. Though, the longer you stand frozen in place, the longer the moment has passed. It would be weird to say anything else now.

“Have a good day,” you bid. While leaving the classroom, you  tried to shake off the disappointment that seemed to linger, refusing to be ignored. It had been easier when you could write off your feelings for Agatha as a simple crush, a harmless admiration for someone who probably didn’t know you existed beyond the realm of academia.

You weren't sure what you wanted from her, exactly. A part of you longed for more than the polite interactions, yet another part feared what would happen if that boundary was ever crossed. The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you found yourself second-guessing if you should do anything.

“If you would hold for a minute, L/N!”

“No.”

You’re halfway out the building when he steps in your line of vision. You grip onto the strap of your bag, clutching it close. Must he always act like you two are buds?

Vision chuckles, stopping in front of you and a bit too close than usual. Then again, he’s never been good with boundaries or personal space. He’s like a parasite. Constantly attaching himself to someone and sucking the life out of them if it benefits him, he happens to have a talent of hiding it well enough for it not to be noticed.

While you have negative emotions towards the man, you don’t entirely resent him in ways you wish you did. So what if he does forget about the dinner plans that you spend hours on for him to impress Wanda? Or gets too annoyed for how much time she spends with you (ya know the person who walked in diapers with her)? Or when Wanda mentions that she doesn’t need riches, she only needs sincerity and he gifts her a new car?

Okay, maybe he’s got one too many poor attributes to his character, however, there are aspects that make him not inherently the douchebag you desperately want him to be.

Like—“You are rather a chirpy one, aren’t you?”

You stare at him with no amusement written on your face. “My interests lies anywhere but you.”

He shares the ‘boy next door’ charm of a smile, shoving his hand in his pocket, and kicks the toe of your shoe. “I am here to request a favor,” he starts, “I have upset Wanda by overstepping her boundaries. Before speaking your mind, I have apologized to her this morning—“

“—what is your favor?” You asked annoyed.

“I wish to give Wanda a formal apology. Do you recall when she and I were to attend that music festival a couple years back and then we were unable to for unforeseen circumstances?”

You nodded your head, motioning him to continue on.

“Well, I remember you had mentioned that you knew one of the bands performing because you have a friend apart of it. I just-Wanda was and still is a massive fan. You know our 3 year anniversary is coming up-“

“—you can’t buy tickets?” You snickered.

You could tell he was getting slightly irritated by your interruptions. Good. He should for disrupting your semi-peaceful state of mind.

“Forget it. You’re such a nuisance.” He huffs, walking off and all you can do is give him a wave.

You knew what he was going to ask and you weren’t sure if you would have said yes to it or not..

[gentaro-kinniecom]

Do you think you’ll kill for me one day..?

Characters: Madara Mikejima, Nagisa Ran, Himeru, Tatsumi Kazehaya, Rei Sakuma, Keito Hasumi, Natsume Sakasaki, Sena Izumi Shu Itsuki and Eichi Tenshouin (x gn!reader)

C/w: Yanderish types of themes (no gore related, just mentions of killing people), obssesive behavior and themes, mentions of Nagisa’s childhood, mentions of kidnapping, religious themes/aspects (Tatsumi), Rei is an actual vampire this time, jealousy.

A/n: I’m back..and out of the (small ish..) hiatus I’ve been for one month <3 recently I’ve liked this new game called the kid at the back, so I might begin making new works for that game <33 enjoy !

Madara Mikejima

He chuckled, staring at the many photos on the wall of them. He was happy, nothing could ever separate them, at least he made it so. Their question didn’t catch him off guard, as far as Madara knew, no one resided within the 50 mile radius from their lovely home, the one Y/n wanted for so long with him. The coffee that sat on the table turned cold as his hands took hold of their waist, kissing them passionately while smiling

“Of course, my darling. I can’t bear the sight of anyone taking you away from me..”

Nagisa Ran

Nagisa’s eyes widened slightly upon hearing their words. Being held captive for an entire childhood was something he lived with to this day: a burden. One of being a talented idol, hence, why that situation had begun in the first place. However, everytime someone would get too close to his liking, Nagisa began cultivating thoughts: the same ones in which he wanted to wisk them away for good, closing y/n in an environment that only surrounded him.

“…would killing someone be of satisfactory for you, my beloved? If so, perhaps Ibara could take care of that for me..”

Himeru

A soft smile graced his features, looking into their eyes while parting a strand of hair away from their face. (E/c) eyes reflecting a sense of curiosity that seeked to know what was truly behind their loved one. A sudden breeze made Himeru close his eyes, hands intertwined while enjoying the sudden wind that was a perk of being on the school’s roof at the moment

“Is someone bothering you? Himeru..no, I, would do anything to keep you safe, even if it involves getting my hands dirty

Tatsumi Kazehaya

Glaring at the figure that sat on their knees in front of the altar, Tatsumi knew his true nature was already exposed. Soft chuckles bounced off from the church’s walls, ringing in their ear as he approached Y/n’s form, placing a hand on their shoulder, almost reassuring them. After all, he’s hurt many people in the past, what’s one more soul to him that could beg for forgiveness but never truly meant it?

“People come and go, even if I had to plead for forgiveness a million times, I’d do whatever you’d ask me to, my one and only.”

Rei Sakuma

Hands craddled their hair softly, enjoying the feeling and taste of his beloved’s blood, groaning in pleasure at the thought of killing someone for them. A bloody mess, all for them; he’s killed before, countless of times. Mostly for blood but, now that he has them, what more could he ask for? Maybe he could do something about the pesky guys who have tried to touch y/n…After all, the world is better off without them.

“Yes I will, my darling. You needn’t ask for that, I’m willing to do anything to keep you safe by my side..”

Keito Hasumi

A sigh escaped his lips, all he could think about was of all the guys that tried to approach Y/n the other day. His pen now sat neatly on top of his notebook, turning to look at his dearest, Keito’s reason of living and breathing. Keito looked out the window, noticing small droplets of water fall down, gracing the surfaces of where they would land. Pondering for a while, Keito grabbed their hand, thumb brushung against y/n’s chuckles followed by a kiss against the top of their hand

“I’ve…never thought about it in that aspect, you don’t know what lenghts I’d go for you, as long as you’re mine, nothing else matters”

Natsume Sakasaki

Another failed attempt at one of his best potions might be caused by the question y/n had asked him hours ago. His eyes trailed towards the sleeping figure resting on his couch, the same one he’s spent making potions or studying, pulling all nighters just, for, them. Natsume held gently a strand of their hair, caressing it with his face as he sighed, kissing their cheek as he spoke

“Do you doubt it my darling? Rest assured that I’ll always, always protect you, no one will ever get between us.”

Sena Izumi

A scoff could be heard across the room as Sena turned towards them. The practice room was quiet, apart from Izumi and Y/n who’s voices could be heard, along with some casual chirps from birds and rusting of leaves outside. His light blue eyes scanned the room, following their gaze towards the world outside, instead of him. Izumi was jealous of the men who would try to court Y/n, trap them in a loveless relationship..he can’t let that happen, no matter what he has to do to earn their attention. Approaching Y/n, a hand wrapped around their waist, grabbinv their chin and bringing them close.

“In a heartbeat. Anything you desire is my duty to fulfill my love”

Shu Itsuki

His sewing machine stopped suddenly, a new dress had been crafted in the spawn of 8 hours, a work of art, made for his partner. A fitting was held that same night, deft fingers tracing along their body, a sweet gesture behind the obssesive behavior towards them. It’s almost as if, Shu wanted to make them depend on him, which..wouldn’t be such a bad idea, perhaps he could…

“I’ll make sure you hace everything, killing people is..inconvenient at the moment, but if that’s what you wish for, then, I’ll do as you please”

Eichi Tenshouin

The council room was silent, the small tapping of the computer Eichi was writing on had briefly come to a halt. His eyes bored into their own as he smiled, but something about it didn’t feel..quite right. As if, there was another deep meaning behind that smile, perhaps true happiness upon hearing the question? Who knows? All that Eichi cared about was the power he had in his hands to manipulate and change stories into whatever he wanted them to be.

“My contracts will do as I please with a flick of my finger, anything at no cost, so don’t hesitate to open up with me about your desires my love..”

[twomoreseconds]

Arcane theory - The first timeline

Now this might be a bit long so please bear with me. I absolutely loved the ending of Arcane (we win jayvik nation) but there are a few aspects of it that I can’t quite wrap my head around. If anybody has a different perspective than me please do tell I’d love to hear it.

—————————————————————

Now for what I don’t quite understand (I’ve never been good with the logic of time travel)

1. What was the first timeline like? How did the story play out the first time round? Ik time doesn’t work like that and ik about the bootstrap paradox but I’m still so curious. And how did Viktor know Jayce would be the one to save him?

2. How did Viktor know that he was giving Jayce a different rune each time? Is there like some history tab in the Arcane??

—————————————————————

I’ll now try to answer these questions but again it’s all purely my speculation:

—————————————————————

1. What was the first timeline like? How did the story play out the first time round? How did Viktor know Jayce would be the one to save him?

We learn that each time Viktor ends up destroying the world he goes back in time in an attempt to stop himself. He says to Jayce “In all timelines, in all possibilities, only you can show me this (this being the fault of his ideology).” This means he is certain that Jayce is the key to stopping him.

Now as to how he knows it’s Jayce and only Jayce that can free him from his false ideas. I have two theories.

A) He’s literally gone trough ALL other possibilities.

He’s nudged all people in and around Zaun and Piltover in the direction of developing hextech and through trial and error he finds that Jayce is the one. - This has many faults and is more of an idea than a theory

B) In the first timeline that started their loop he had already met Jayce.

If he had already in some capacity come into contact with Jayce and seen his desire to prove himself, his drive and kindness. He would know that that’s the person who’s to be his conquests undoing. - This theory sounds more plausible to me and thus is what I’ll be going with

With this established we can move on to what the first time line was like.

Since Viktor wasn’t there to save his mother, Jayce grows up to be an orphan (I can’t remember anyone ever mentioning his dad). I believe he would still gravitate to becoming an inventor/ scientist, but with no funding he would probably be someone’s assistant or some such.

Viktor wouldn’t have met Jayce so early so he would still be Heimerdingers assistant. Eventually though his illness would start showing and in my mind, Viktor wouldn’t want to die without his life meaning something, without helping the people of Zaun.

I believe he would go see Singed just like he did in our timeline. Singed wouldn’t have the support from Silco like he does in our timeline since there would be no explosion in Piltover, thus no arrest of Vander, thus no death of Vander, thus no Silco leader (presumably).

This would mean that Singed would seek more drastic measures for example hextech. I believe he would have given Viktor some hextech crystals and shimmer, maybe as a part of a deal maybe out of the goodness of his own heart.

I think Viktor would start researching hextech which would perhaps catch the attention of Jayce, leading to them working together on hextech in secret.

As his illness would progress Viktor would again corrupt the core and enhance his leg. This time though since there is no funding for their illegal study there would be no Sky, meaning there would be no accident (don’t even dare to tell me it would kill Jayce I don’t want to even think about that).

If there is no accident then maybe Viktor would use the core on himself sooner. Become the machine herald as he would have no guilt (Sky) making him hold on to his humanity.

If he becomes the machine herald so soon Jayce wouldn’t have much time to talk him out of everything. Not only would there not be enough time to talk, since they met so late their connection wouldn’t quite be what it becomes in our time line.

Jayce would get pretty close though since after Viktor achieves his salvation of the human race and realizes its faults, it’s Jayce who he trusts to save everyone.

Now he would come up with the plan to inspire Jayce sooner, so he develops hextech sooner, so they meet sooner, so Jayce has more time to stop him.

This only eventually works when Ekko buys him more time, otherwise he still wouldn’t have enough time to convince Viktor. (Ekko is the goat fr)

—————————————————————

Now for with the one that makes the least amount of sense to me.

2. How did Viktor know he was giving Jayce a different rune each time?

In episode 9 we are explicitly shown and told that Viktor went and tried all kinds of different runes in hopes that one will give Jayce enough time to save him.

Let’s say he starts with rune A, it doesn’t work so when he’s in the “world rid of humanity’s imperfections” he decides to give him rune B.

Now if it doesn’t work, the Viktor in the past who meets Jayce with rune B becomes the Viktor in the present.

Only problem is new Viktor is here for the first time. He presumably doesn’t have the memories of old Viktor, so how could he know that the rune he decides to try this time isn’t one he’s already tried for example rune A.

How does he know that he’s not already in an endless cycle of going between A and B. Never even trying C.

I believe the only explanation would be that the Arcane is somehow giving him access to all his “past” memories from his past timelines.

Although time doesn’t really work like that. Time is a loop a cycle it doesn’t have an end or a beginning who’s to say that it wouldn’t give him memories of the acceleration rune working.

But I digress since I can’t think of a better solution.

—————————————————————

If anyone actually read it to the end thank you and sorry that it lowkey read more like fanfiction than a theory.

If anybody has literally any other ideas please comment I wanna hear them so bad you don’t even know.

In conclusion going by my theory Jayvik are truly meant to meet in every timeline and Viktor is the direct downfall of Vander and Vanders Zaun. (What a silly guy am I right or am I right)

[ranahan]

Mando’a tense/aspect/mood

This is where I’m currently at with my reinterpretation of Mando’a TAM. I’m not 100% satisfied yet (there are still a number of open questions like if and how the tenses combine, how exactly should fronting the particles be interpreted, etc.) so I might continue changing things later, but I figured I’d throw this out here on the off chance of getting some opinions or thoughts. I’d especially like to hear if you think something doesn’t work.

This post is something of a continuation of this previous post about TAM systems in creole languages and how they compare to Mando’a. And obliquely this one where I lament the fact that Mando’a doesn’t have a perfective/completive aspect. But then I had the thought that many languages conflate certain tenses and aspects. Like languages typically don’t have a gazillion different tenses and moods and different particles or conjugations for each. Instead they usually have a handful of different tenses/aspects/moods that make certain salient distinctions, but conflate others. Perfect tense/aspect is maybe the most familiar example, conflating past tense and perfective/completive aspect. So instead of coming up with new tenses, I started thinking about how the canon ones work and all the different ways natural languages combine and distinguish tenses/aspects/moods.

And just to be clear, this is me thinking about possible ways to do TAM in my version of Mando’a grammar, not an analysis of canon Mando’a. My goals are to make it

at least superficially compatible with canon (i.e. to not overtly contradict the canon corpus or how Mando’a speakers have already learned to do things)

not a code for English (because that’s boring)

more fully functional grammar (that allows expressing more complicated ideas)

My current (re)interpretation is that Mando’a has five tenses (one unmarked and four marked) and four moods (one unmarked and three marked). Like many natural languages (including English), Mando’a somewhat conflates tense and aspect. TAM are expressed by preverbal particles, many of which can attach to not just verbs, but adjectives and nouns as well. They can also be fronted, and so they’re not very tightly bound to the verbs.

Tense

English tenses situate an event relative to the time of the speech act (frame of reference). When I say “I ran”, I mean I ran before the time of speaking about it just now. This is called absolute tense, i.e. it’s absolute in time. However, Mando’a tenses are relative: they situate an event relative to the frame of reference, i.e. time is relative to the topic I’m talking about, not the time when I’m talking. If I’m talking about what happened yesterday and I say “I ran”, I mean I ran before whatever happened yesterday. And if I’m talking about something that happens tomorrow and say “I ran”, I mean I will have run before whatever happens tomorrow.

Why? Because what Traviss says about Mando’a tenses (that colloquially mandos don’t use tenses and tenses were invented to deal with aruetiise) doesn’t make sense—mandos wouldn’t be making business deals with outsiders in Mando’a. However, this interpretation would produce exactly the kind of confusion with and seemingly optional usage of tenses that Traviss describes.

Present (unmarked)

The present tense is unmarked. In English, it can be translated as present or simple past, or even simple future. “I am leaving”, “I left”, and “I will leave” can all be expressed by the present tense. This is why outsiders might think Mando’a colloquially doesn’t use tenses or that tenses in Mando’a are optional.

Ni ba’slana. I am leaving.

Ni ba’slana kar’tuur. I left yesterday.

Ni ba’slana nakar’tuur. I will leave tomorrow.

The present tense can also refer to an ongoing event that is still relevant to the present moment:

Ni ratiin kar’tayli kaysh sa ruusaanyc. I have always known them to be reliable (and this is still true).

Past (ru, r)

Or technically, anterior tense or relative past. The anterior tense places the event before the frame of reference. In Mando’a, it is used for things that happened before the frame of reference or things in the past that are relevant now. The closest English translation would be “had done” or “had been doing”.

It is somewhat conflated with perfective/completive aspect. The completive aspect marks an event that is complete(d) or a past event that’s relevant to the current topic. They share at least some semantic overlap, which is how the conflation of past and perfective = perfect happens in many languages.

The relevance to the topical time could be resultative:

Ni epa tiingilar. I am eating tiingilar. Or, I ate (some) tiingilar.

vs.

Ni r’epa tiingilar vaal val olaro. I had already eaten the tiingilar when they arrived. (implication: and there was none left)

Ru’pitati. It has been raining. (implication: and it’s now wet)

Tion gar r’epa? Have you eaten yet? (Implication: are you hungry now?)

Perhaps even: Kaysh ru’nari’bat beskar’gam. He’s wearing beskar’gam, lit. “he has put on beskar’gam (and is still wearing it).”

The past tense can also express completion (especially when combined with adjectives):

Kai r’epayc. The food has been eaten up. (Implication: and there’s no food left)

Jetiise droten ru’trattoko. The Republic has fallen.

Tion gar vaabi bic? Did you do it? — Ni vaabi bic, a… I was doing it, but… vs. Ni ru’vaabi bic. I have done it. (Implication: and it is finished.)

Or an experiential sense:

Ni ru’seni. I have flown (I have done it before).

Ni r’akaani, ru’tal’onidi, ru’pir’ekulo par ibic—nu draar ba’slana ni. I have fought, worked my ass off and shed tears for this—I’m not leaving for anything.

Future (ven)

Or technically, posterior or relative future marks events that happen after the frame of reference. In Mando’a, it describes events that will happen in near future or are about to happen; future that’s relevant to the present, immediate, or known to be certain or inevitable.

It is somewhat conflated with inceptive/prospective aspect. The inceptive is the mirror of the perfect aspect: it marks a future event that is relevant to the present moment. In English, the future tense could be translated as “going to”, the inceptive as “start to”, the prospective as “about to”.

Val ven’olaro. They are coming. (Implication: they are already on their way.) / They will come. (Implication: I know they will.)

Ni ven’ba’slan’at bora. I’m about to leave for work. (Implication: so be quick about it because I’m in a hurry.)

Ni ven’kyramu gar. I’m going to kill you. (Implication: and that is a promise.)

Ven’pitati. It is starting to rain. / It will rain (soon). / It’s going to rain (later).

Vaal ni sirbu jii, gar ven’viini. When I say now, you will start running.

The future tense can also be used to express inevitable, natural or logical consequences:

Ca ven’shekemi tuur. Night will follow day.

Distant past (wer)

Something that happened long ago and is no longer relevant; something that used to be true but no longer is; also stories and myths that aren’t necessarily historical facts. Best translated as “long ago”. Rarely used, mostly in some stock expressions and storytelling.

Using wer as a distant past particle (like in wer’cuy) would nicely mirror ret as a distant future. There’s no immediately useful and logical aspect to conflate it with though, so perhaps it’s rare in everyday use.

Wer’cuy. It was ages ago. (Cuyi on it’s own beginning a sentence is translated as “there is…” or “it is…”). Also used in the sense of “once upon a time…” literally “a long time ago there was…”

Ay, ni wer borari ogir. Oh, I worked there ages ago. (Implication: and I no longer do & it’s no longer relevant to the present moment.)

Wer’cuy kih gi’ka. Gi’ka ane kihne be gise o’r ani sho’cye… Once upon a time, there was a tiny little fish. The little fish was the smallest one of all the fish in the entire sea…

Wer’cuy ni bal ner vod hiibi ibic bora—bal iba’bora… Ages ago me and my mate took this job—and what a job it was…

Wer’laar, myth, song of the eons past (lit. “eon-song” or “song of eons”)

Wer’uliik, mythosaur (lit. “long-ago beast”), the long-extinct megafauna of the planet Mandalore

Distant future (ret, re)

Far off, uncertain future; conflated with irrealis mood. Events that might or might not happen or have happened, including the far off future. Conflating these two senses (uncertainty/irrealis and far future) comes from my interpretation of Traviss’s statements about the nomadic mindset of uncertain future and canon expressions like ret’urcye mhi.

Basically mandos consider anything that isn’t imminent to be not written in stone yet. Another way to look at it would be to say they have two future tenses that are differentiated by the certainty of the event happening or the speaker’s degree of belief in it: ven for certain future, ret for uncertain future.

Ret’urcye mhi. Maybe we’ll meet again.

Ni ret slana. Maybe I will go / I could go / I would go / I might go one day.

Mood

Insert some mnemonic about 4 i’s.

Indicative (unmarked)

The unmarked tense that expresses realis mood i.e. things that are real or factual in some way.

Indicative/present tense is also used for expressing general truths:

Par ibic jorbe gar nu kyranu mando’ade, aruetii. For this reason you cannot wipe out Mandalorians, outsider.

Irrealis (ret, re)

Expresses things that aren’t known to be true. Literally “maybe, perhaps”, but can also be translated as might, could, etc. See above.

Ret ni slana. I might go.

Tion’ad ven slana? Who’s going to go? — Ret ni slana. I could go. (Or just ret ni, I could.)

Re’tracyuuri, ret’nu’tracyuuri—nu’baati ni. Shoot or don’t shoot, it’s no concern of mine. (The re’ form would be used before oral stops, I think.)

Imperative (ke, k)

Expresses commands and exhortations. Mando’a uses the direct imperative much more liberally than English—it isn’t considered rude at all.

Ke davaabi ke’gyce rol’eta resol! Execute order sixty-six!

Ke’dinui’ni paak, gedet’ye. Pass me the salt, please.

Direct commands can be very clipped:

Ke’mot! Halt! (lit. “stand!”)

Ke’serim! Take aim! (lit. “be accurate!”)

Ke buy’cese! Helmets on! (lit. “helmets!”)

The imperative can express direct commands, but it can also be used (especially in first/third persons) to express exhortation or jussive mood, similarly to English “let”, “should” or “ought”.

Ke mhi slana. Let’s go. (lit. “let us go”)

Ret mhi ke’slana. Perhaps we should go.

Ke slana, ad’ika! Go on, lad!

It can also be used to express commands to a third person. Formal imperative in third person would be common in written orders & legislation.

Ke kaysh vaabi bic. Have him do it.

Kaysh k’olaro. He should come. / He ought to come.

It’s also used in some subjunctive expressions:

Cuyi jaonyc kaysh ke’vaabi bic. It is important that he do it.

Not entirely sure if it shouldn’t be ke kaysh vaabir bic & cuyi jaonyc kaysh ke’vaabir bic… When exactly should the infinitive/conjugated verb be used is one of those unanswered questions of mine at this point.

Desiderative expressions:

(K’)Oya Mand’alor! Long live the king!

Ke’cin’ciri! Let (it) snow!

And it can be used in conditional if-then statements:

Meh ni mand’alor, ke ni toryc. If I were Mandalore, I would be just. (lit. “I should be just”)

Par cuyir rang, ke’cuyir tracyn. In order for there to be smoke, there has to be a fire.

In questions it could be translated as should:

Tion ni ke’ba’slana? Should I leave?

Fronting the imperative particle usually makes an exhortation:

Ke mhi slana. Let’s go.

Ke mhi gal’gala. Let us drink to that.

Ke kaysh olaro. Let him come.

Interrogative (tion)

Forms questions. Note that the interrogative particle doesn’t affect word order—no need to invert word order like in English.

Tion gar slana? Are you going?

Tion’ad slana? Who’s going?

Tion’vaii gar slana? Where are you going?

Tion’vaabi gar? What are you doing?

Tion’ad gar kyramu? Who did you kill?

Tion’ad nyni gar? Who hit you?

All the examples we have from canon front the interrogative particle, but I wonder if you couldn’t optionally insert it in place of the word it’s replacing in the sentence, like Mandarin does:

Gar slana tion’vaii? You’re going where?

Gar tion’vaabi? or Gar vaabi tion? What are you doing?

Gar kyramu tion’ad? You killed who?

Nominal TAM

And since Mando’a can attach verbal prefixes also to nouns, here are some nominal examples:

Riduur is your spouse, ven’riduur is the person you are going to marry and is understood to refer to a specific person and impending marriage vows. Ret’riduur however would be more like a hypothetical spouse, the person who would be your spouse if you were ever going to marry someone, or perhaps someone you haven’t discussed marriage with yet (and don’t know their answer).

Buir is your parent, dar’buir is the person who is no longer your parent, and wer’buir is your ancestor (one who you’ve never met—if you had personally known them, you’d use ba’buir or even ori’ba’buir instead).

[emry-stars-art]

Hi, soooo I'm currently studying phisiotherapy AND at the same time I'm sucker for good cuddling and soft scenes AND I have hate love relationship with scars (visually I think they can be attractive but in a lot of other aspects they just suck). Anyway so u know how scar tissue is a bit** to work with and can cause a lot of problems like numbness in scared area, decrease in range of movement, phantom pains etc. What I'm trying to say is Neil needs A LOT of therapy sessions which should contain some salves manual work with scars and maybe needle therapy which is just prettier way to say sticking hundreds of tiny needles right thru scared tissue which most definitely will hurt BUT what if during all of this they only will learn more about themselves and will have excuse to spend long hours together away from prying eyes and most importantly being soft, clingy, touch starved wholesome dumbasses with one shared braincell?

Sorry for long, boring and probably unnecessary not so much question or message as just my thought vomit I just wanted to share.

Have a great day🫡😅🧡

WHAT DO YOU MEAN BORING AND UNNECESSARY I LOVE IT

omg thank you for bringing your expertise into this, I absolutely wrote the “long hours being touch starved wholesome dumbasses” bit into my notebook lmao. Yeah! This is good!! I’m SUCH a sucker for soft moments like this I’m right there with you. I was bouncing ideas with @paradoxolotl on it and I love the idea of Day being very methodical, he might know some of this stuff already and then he goes out of his way to learn everything he needs to know to make sure Abram can still be taken care of when he won’t let anyone else touch him. Still talking him through everything. Andrew would be as careful as we all know he can be, he never takes for granted the trust Abram has when he allows Andrew to give him more painful massages/therapy, and after, Andrew’s touch softens and neither of them ever mention that he’d already finished the actual exercise/massage a few long minutes ago… idk anything about physiotherapy so I bet there’s lots of great art/story fodder here that I’m just unaware of so if you have any specific ideas I’d love to hear them 👀👀 but here’s what I did draw, hopefully it’s not too completely incorrect 😅

(Shout out to @anon-lemon for making me realize I needed to draw Andrew with his hair down 💕)

Anyway thank you for the ask, together we can make this both incredibly angsty AND incredibly fluffy 😌🥰

[laurzvahll]

8, 9, and 15 for the self insert ask meme?

hihiii thank you for the ask!! this batch was kind of fun to do (warning this one might get long)

8. what is your self insert’s orientation?

Truth be told, Sol has a bit of a hard time with labels, or at least used to. It took them a good while to be comfortable in their identity, and a lot of the time they put off even thinking about it due to feeling like they already had so much on their plate LOL. For orientation, they’d never felt connected to any label like bisexual or pansexual and etc. They identified as different ones growing up but now as an adult, they don’t really care I guess you could say, and they’re much happier just calling themselves Queer. Sol likes who they like, no matter the gender and that’s just how it is :3. And they are also Ace, which took them way longer to figure out, but they feel really content in that aspect of their identity.

For gender identity which I felt is also important to mention.. If they were a char in the show I’d want their gender to be like part of this fun bit where it’s never confirmed or anything and so a lot of the other characters often have this moment where they wonder… is that a pretty guy or a handsome girl? Yk, being confusing for funnies, but they just “are”. Like they aren’t a gender, they’re just Sol LMFAOO. And in the non gag anime way, their gender identity is a little more complicated. To strangers and the public eye, they’re comfortable with being seen as a man , even tho though don’t feel like one or identify as one, at least not fully. It’ll always be confusing for them, maybe never fully clear, but as long as they’re happy and comfortable presenting in whatever way they want, the label doesn’t really matter to them in the long run.. so Non binary is what feels right for now. (Fun Sol fact.. they’ve also had top surgery!)

9. who are your self insert’s closest friends?

I lovee this question.. I’ve mentioned them before, but in Sols story their closest friends before they grow close with karamatsu and later the res of the matsunos, their closest friends are Beck and Mimi :D my friends ocs!

I had to draw them for this one bc I love them so much. Sol meets Mimi at their convenience store job almost immediately after moving to Japan, and spending almost every day together leads to them quickly clicking and becoming friends, soon beginning to hang out outside of work … and becoming even closer when Sol confides in Mimi about their whole situation with their new painful blue friend that starts slowly snowballing into something bigger…. It takes a little while longer for Sol to become friends with Beck, since Beck actually meets Mimi first through his new friend Jyushimatsu, who is also friends with Mimi! Along with Ichimatsu and Todomatsu :P my friend Otter only recently made Beck so there’s stuff we’re still figuring out story wise, but rest assured they all get into silly antics together and get to hear Sol ramble on and on while they yell at them to open their eyes and accept there’s something that changed and is definitely going on with them and their friend.. I have this really funny lore bit with Mimi and the three youngest matsus that want to post about sometime soon.. but we shall see

Last but not least, 15. how does your self insert play a role in the plot of the story? do they help directly defeat the villain, support the heroes, etc.?

Sol was never meant to play any sort of role in the story, and I’d still say that they barely add anything to canon at all.. but im not sure how to explain. Sol was always meant to be a background character, but like in a literal sense. Show wise. They weren’t supposed to have a name, or friends or a past, they were just supposed to exist in the background and appear every once in a while. Even after they arrived in Japan. That was until they met the sextuplets, and it’s like they were suddenly aware. Like those silly posts you see about people talking about when they gain consciousness LOL, but literally. They were sort of shoved into this whole new world with new BIG overwhelming feelings and memories, almost as if a life had materialized from thin air, and one that had not treated them kindly in the past.

They still don’t play any sort of role in the canon universe, but something definitely changed. A change that they were not ready for, but became grateful for.. in the long run.

[lailoken]

Wishing you some rest and gentleness in what sounds like it’s been a really rough time, Lucien. Please don’t feel obliged to get back to this today/at all!

I was wondering: why work with the fae? Why faerie physicking over, say, working in a coven or with a Hellenic/Norse/etc pantheon? I respect you might not be able to say much, but I’d be really curious to hear (I’m asking as someone who’s been slowly deepening a relationship with Them over the past few years, and turning this question over for myself – would value a much more experienced practitioner’s perspective).

Thank you, kind anon.

That's an interesting question, though not the easiest to answer! On one hand, I was raised with Anglo-Celtic lore and practices associated with the Fae, so it has been a fairly foundational aspect of my life. Beyond that, though, there is also the fact that they chose me directly. My background and experiences over the years helped lead me into initiating under Them, but once it was clear that they were reaching out to me, it no longer really felt like a choice for me.

I hope that can be of some help!

[saintkaylaa]

Hii!!! I was wondering if you’d be willing to give more details about Choso’s y/n’s CT if you have any? It sounds so fascinating!!! No pressure if you don’t want to share but I’d love to learn more!! Have a great day ☺️

Okaaay but I don’t wanna hear that y’all say I’m OCing 😭 bc none of this actually matters in the smau.

Disclaimer: I am not fully caught up with the JJK Manga nor do I honestly fully understand the curse energy aspect. Honestly who really does😭

Choso’s gf has a unique technique that has to do with her domain expansion. And honestly none of this might make sense but imma do my best 😅

Her technique has religious themes, and it’s an innate inherited technique based on Heaven and Hell.

Domain Expansion Name: Divine Retribution

Divine Retribution allows her to pull apart her domain and infuse the power and guaranteed hit of a DE into a singular strike. So anytime you are hit with one of her hits/strikes there is no escaping it, and it has the same impact on a target as if being in her domain expansion. So it’s like getting physically hit with a mini domain expansion.

However, the more she pulls her DE apart, the weaker it gets so if she pulls it apart way too much and tries to activate a full on DE the chances of it defeating it’s target are slim and it can harm her instead.

In addition, this may sound like she has a weak HP bar but she’s actually equipped with 2 HP bars. Choso’s gf actually has 2 celestial forms that she can switch between, at will. (Really 3, if you count her “human” form.) She has an angel/seraphim form (equipped with nearly indestructible wings that act more as shields) and a demon/devil form.

I mean, there’s more like her extension techniques and maximum techniques, but that’s kinda the gist 🤗 I hope this answered your question!

Can you guess her grade?

© saintkaylaa 2023-2024 do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without permission. reserved rights to any original ideas. I do not own any established characters. All rights reserved.

[cadet-aviator]

‘Mess and Household Training’ (1)

It took a while to really get used to this ‘new’ life, but not all that long: after I had offically completed the 24-week Disciplinary Supervision – the delayed punishments for my demerits during Camp – nothing much changed.

Almost all my non-school hours were now taken up with duties and drills as an Army Cadet. Inspections almost every day, rules for almost every aspect of my boy’s life, after I few weeks it became second nature. Even my Dad got used to me calling him Sir and giving me specific orders to sit down (although he did forget, sometimes, and I would just stand there, at the breakfast table, until he remembered...). It was a trying time for him and me, but this little extra routine actually drew us closer, I think.

I reported to barracks twice during the week and most of Saturday for new types of training, and most of these were actually really nice. I acquired some new skills.

What did surprise me was that almost all of that training was ‘Mess and Household’, nothing particularly ‘military’, no weaponry, no strategy, no combat training, almost none of that.

‘M&H’ meant lessons in doing laundry, ironing, shoe care, making beds, cleaning, everything you’d need for running a household, and then also cooking and ‘serving’ – the last part was something I had been introduced to during Elite Camp. 

I say it was pretty nice, overall, because even though the standards were at 100%, as always, the instructors were usually much older officers, and they enjoyed teaching me and the other cadets, a group of about six.

Also nice was that on Saturdays I was allowed to remain in School Cadet uniform, which was practical for me; it appeared later that in many of the places where M&H cadets were put to work, wearing whites was customary anyway, to indicate that they were ‘serving cadets’. I was to learn that different branches of the military, even different regiments, had different traditions and different uniforms for their serving cadets.

So I did a lot: the first weeks were taken up with hours of lessons in very very meticulous ironing.

In case you've never done that, it's a science in itself (or so I learned). We took the shirts from the dryer a little before they were really dry, because when they were still a bit damp you could make a much sharper crease. You started with the collars, then the sleeves, then the upper shoulder part. You had to learn where a crease or a fold had to be, and so on.

I had experienced this before (when shining my shoes): I’d enter into a zen-like level of focus. I’d see only the fabric, the steam, the iron, and I’d hear only the voice of the instructor. I say zen, because the attention to detail was religious; to my instructor any performance below 100% was simply impossible. So when I say ‘hours and hours’, I’m not exaggerating.

We got lessons in different kinds of fabrics, weaves, patterns, we learned just how textile responds to pressure and to folding, how it needs to be cleaned, how to remove stains, and so on. I was always a bit more ‘theoretical’ in school, a bit of an intellectual, you might say, so working with my hands was a nice change. 

As I said before, I never questioned any of it. All of this was done in silence, with just the instructor talking. Talking to the other cadets was allowed only during our 10-minute breaks, and then we would usually just talk about the work - it was clear to us that we weren't there to make friends.

I did begin to develop a vague idea as to why we were trained for household duties. Some of the clothes we had to work on were from high-ranking officers; I had heard about conscripts who were assigned not to military tasks, but to real officer’s households, as valets or butlers. I had not heard that this could apply to cadets as well (but I was to find that out). I didn’t mind the rumours.

I just wanted to serve, and serve perfectly, and be quiet and at ease.

After the shirts: shoes. And after that: tablewear. Carrying a tray. And so on.

(All images are AI-generated)

[noonaishere]

Music of the Heart [J.YH] - thirty-one | JUPiTER

You walked into the studio to the cacophonous sound of multiple keys on the keyboard being held down. You looked over at the keyboard to find Hongjoong, face down on the keys.

You laughed softly; he probably fell asleep there last night and didn’t even hear the noise. This poor guy was going to make himself deaf before thirty if he kept doing this kind of thing.

With a chuckle, you walked over to the keyboard and switched it off.

“Why’d you do that?”

“AHH!”

Hongjoong looked up at you, the lines of the keys indented on his face.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I thought you fell asleep like last time.”

“Oh…” he touched his face and then ruffled his hair in frustration. “I was just thinking.”

“Having emos?” You chuckled.

“Yeah, having emos.” He turned the keyboard back on.

Now that your heart rate had lowered to a number under 180 bpm, you could put your stuff down on the table. “What about?”

“This song I’m working on for my own recordings.”

“Are you also a soloist?”

He nodded as he pressed a few keys idly. “I release under another name though.”

“Really? Why?”

He shrugged. “I’d rather people look at my solo work without being biased by my producing work.”

“Makes sense. You are one of the most famous producers in the business.”

He nodded tiredly. “Anyway, JUPiTER is coming in today so I think I need to give up for now.”

Your eyebrows ticked up. 

JUPiTER was Wonderland Entertainment’s most popular boy band. While their main concept was astronomy and Greek mythology, each of their comebacks had a different vibes, from cool, to cute, to sexy, they pulled them all off well. As expected of a group managed by Wonderland.

“Wow, really?”

“Mhm. we had finished their album right before we hired you. I think they had some questions for their performances.”

“Umm, what should I be doing?”

“You should just observe today.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

You took your notebook and a pen out of your bag so you could make notes if you needed to. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Hongjoong watch you for a moment before going back to idly pressing the keyboard keys.

A few minutes later, Maddox came in with JUPiTER behind him.

“Yes I be the cat and, yes I do the dragging.” He sang as he walked in, followed by his temporary entourage.

You looked up and bowed as they came into the room.

Hongjoong stood as well. “This is our new bassist and producer in training, t/l/n t/f/n.”

The group of boys took turns shaking your hand as they introduced themselves: the leader, Dal; the “mom”, Max; the unofficial maknae, Keeho; the fashionista, Jiung; and the actual maknae, Jongseob. You had seen them all on stage and in pictures before but - even though they were wearing casual clothes - they were all gorgeous in real life. Who could possibly think the visual arts were still needed when there were people this pretty on planet earth?

“It’s nice to meet you all.” You said.

They all nodded and responded with the same sentiment to varying degrees.

“So what are you doing here today?” Dal asked.

“She’s here to observe the recording process,” Hongjoong answered.

“But we’re done,” Keeho pointed out.

Hongjoong nodded. “And answering the questions of the artists is also part of the process. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in the studio today, would you?” He smiled.

They all nodded. He was right. 

He gestured to the chairs at the table. “Please, sit.”

Maddox joined you on one side and Keeho sat on the other side.

A few hours of discussion went by as mostly Dal and Max asked questions having to do with technical aspects, and asked for notes Hongjoong might have for the sound guys on the music shows.

You paid attention and took copious notes; if Hongjoong was really serious about training you as a producer, you wanted to show him that you were serious too.

When the conversation slowed and it seemed like the meeting was about to adjourn, Keeho turned to you.

“So how long have you been working here? You’re new right?”

You nodded. “I’ve been here… a few weeks already?

He nodded. “That’s cool. You’ll be around for our comeback-- Dal?”

Dal looked up. “Yeah?”

“When’s this comeback again?”

You opened your phone and went to the recording calendar, it had the comebacks on it. You checked the upcoming week. It was in three days.

“Umm… You know, it’s soon but I forgot the date again. I’ll check when we get back to the dorms. It’s not this week, I know that.”

“Okay.”

Your brow furrowed, could he have forgotten his own group’s comeback date? That’s weird.

You opened your mouth to help him, when you felt something hit your foot. Looking down, Maddox’s foot was now against yours. You looked up at him, confused, and he shook his head slightly. You looked to Hongjoong and he did the same.

You closed your phone and put it in your pocket.

After a few more minutes of questions and notes, the members, you, Hongjoong, and Maddox all said goodbye to each other and the members left. Maddox and Hongjoong went to their chairs at the desk and you sat at the table and got ready to do some transcribing.

“So um… is there a reason why Dal forgot his own group’s comeback date?”

Hongjoong and Maddox both laughed.

“What?”

“Dal knows it,” Hongjoong started, “he’s a really good leader who’s on top of everything. It’s just that Keeho…” He looked for the right words and looked to Maddox for help.

“Keeho is a streamer,” Maddox said, “and has spoiled every single comeback in some way since they debuted, so eventually the rest of the group decided that they had to lie to him if they didn’t want to continue getting yelled at by their managers for spoiling their comeback dates.”

You laughed. The idea was absurd. “On-- he’s spoiled them on purpose or by accident?”

“By accident. Every single one.”

“Wow,” you laughed. “Okay.”

They both nodded.

“That’s kind of ridiculous that they had to resort to lying to him about it.

“It really is.” Maddox laughed.

“Honestly, they’re doing it for his own good.” Hongjoong added.

“Does he know they’re lying?”

“At this point? I’m not even sure.”

You shook your head with a laugh and got to work transcribing.

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luvvvx • iamthehotdemon • hrts4hanniehae • rachs-words •

[simslegacy5083]

Not So Berry (Straud Descendants) Gen 9

Today's (8/12/2024) Episode: Luigi's Big Idea

One evening shortly following “the mouse incident” Luigi and Noemi were working together at the dining table while Skye tried some banana slices.

When his wife’s smile as she told him about the mayor of Strangerville’s praise for their latest side job turned wistful and she sighed unhappily, Luigi paused his own modding work. “What’s wrong, honey?”

“Why is programming so fun but trying to identify new talent so difficult!?” she lamented “I’ve done everything I can think of to raise my charisma skill and yet I still have such a hard time in client meetings! My meds make me feel awful and barely seem to help. I need a win.”

“Right now,” he replied, “so do I. Everyone is still dragging my name through the mud after the last game, and honestly, I don’t know how much longer I can keep playing at this level. I’ve been going at it daily since I can remember, and my body is starting to get tired of it.”

He massaged his right wrist gently, wincing: “You know that’s the reason I had to use my own mouse that night.”

Noemi rolled her eyes at how her fiancée had unwittingly turned the conversation back to himself, as usual. “Well,” she finally said “you know you have my support whatever you decide to do. In the meantime, if you have any bright ideas for “the next big thing” in tech, let me know.”

Luigi knew she’d been joking, but as he glanced back down at his computer, which still displayed his latest, half finished, Sims Forever mod update, he realized he might have something to offer her. “Actually” he said, “there IS a project I’ve always thought it would be fun to develop someday”.

Now he had her interest. “What is it? I may suck at charming prospective clients and investors, but I definitely know an actionable tech idea when I hear one. Just don’t get mad at me if I have to shoot it down. If I can’t be brutally honest with my own spouse in my own house, when can I be?”

“When aren’t you!?” he said with a laugh “its one of the things I’ve always loved about you. Let’s get Skye to bed and I’ll tell you all about it”.

A few minutes later Noemi joined Luigi on the couch after the, as always, fussy Skye finally drifted off. “That mobile you installed is a lifesaver!”

Luigi, who’d been icing his hand, sat the spent pack down on the coffee table and turned to face his fiancée “You’re welcome” he grinned “Now, about that big idea I had. Sims Forever is a unique game. There’s nothing else quite like it on the market. I’ve loved it my whole life, but I also started modding because I wanted to enrich the storytelling aspect and fix some of the many bugs.”

He continued “What the game needs is competition. I’d love to develop my own life simulation game. Incorporate the good, eliminate the bad, and add gameplay that only exists in Sims Forever with mods. Do you think your bosses would be interested in something like that?”

Luigi saw the answer to his question in Noemi’s eyes, which were sparkling with delight “You know more about that specific genre than I do, but I think any game as popular as Sims Forever could use a little competition. It would certainly be a big undertaking, though! Even with me assisting you on the programming, we’d definitely need to recruit more talent.”

She continued “Having your name attached to the project will help garner interest. You were known in the Sims Forever modding community even before you became well known as a pro gamer. This seems like exactly the kind of thing I could bring to my bosses, if you’re serious about this and willing to write up a solid business proposal.”

Ever since they’d started talking Luigi had felt his excitement growing. “Honestly until tonight I didn’t realize how serious I was, but yes, I want to do this. I’ll have that business proposal on your desk soon boss”.

Noemi smiled wickedly as she stood up. “It sounds like you’re a very good boy who deserves a reward for all his hard work… don’t you think?”

Luigi obediently followed his wife to the bedroom, grinning broadly when she pulled their “costume trunk” out of the closet. They got into character and Noemi beckoned him close “You ready to party?” he nodded furiously replying “Absolutely. I’m all yours.”

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[securityholograms]

I confess I am very curious. What would your ideal casting be for a DJKT production of Cabaret?

oh my god, first of all, I could yap about this for hours so thanks so much for the question! (edit after typing out a bit of it: it’s already very long i’m so so sorry)

For the casting itself, I’m mostly gonna ignore the vocal ranges because I don’t really know how deep or high the djkt people can go so take that with a grain of salt😭 and i’m going off of the characters that are currently in the production in Prague (so only one KitKat boy, but they could easily add “Victor” like some other productions have etc.)

Now the characters:

Emcee: You really need someone who’d be comfortable with the whole exhibitionist shtick and can carry the show on their back. I feel like Lukáš Ondruš could pull it off (it= being a creepy little guy) but my secret wish is Pavel R.😭the reasoning is just that I know he’d lowkey love the attention and he’s been getting all the /sexy leading man/ dudes lately, which is so valid for him, but I also kinda need more from him at this point and this would be it🙏🏻( # PavelForAFreak )

Sally: Naty Dvořáková would be great, after hearing her Mary Magdalene, I think her voice would suit sally really well and she’d drive the emotional ending home. If I wanted to give a leading role to someone who hasn’t gotten one in a while- Karolína Krausová, I really loved her in Píseň pro Ninu and this is in the same category (kind of).

bonus: If she hasn’t aged out of the role.. Soňa👉👈 she’s mother to me and this would fix me (or make me worse)

Cliff: Oh boy. this is a big one for me (clearly lmao) This might be an unpopular opinion but even though Cliff is kind of in the shadow of Sally and the MC, especially in the newest West End revival (soon a broadway revival) I really believe he’s the heart of the show, he’s the audience’s link to the characters, It’s who we relate to and who is, ultimately, the good guy. And so I think he’s kind of quietly what makes or breaks the show in the end (the emotional aspects of it at the very least)….

Ok, that was a long ass way of saying I’d obviously need Pavel Klimenda as Cliff ✨ He’s showed times and times again he’s really good at the “Am I gonna finish this or is it gonna finish me” sad boy agenda, so I think he’d easily pull it off and break all of our hearts along the way. BUT HERE’S where the real conundrum appears⬇️

Bobby: So if I assume we only get one kitkat boy, it’ll be Bobby. He’s the one who’s hooked up with Cliff in London and that affair kind of re-ignites when Cliff comes to Berlin. In the Prague production, Bobby’s wearing fishnets and heels (they’re HIGH heels) and I can’t really see who from djkt could slay in the same way Pavel Klimenda could. We’ve already seen him do the slightly more fem roles in Otřást vesmírem and Fun Home + he’s a great dancer, which works super well for Bobby.. Buuut he’s already my Cliff here so that’s kind of fucked and idrk what to do with this one😭😂

… ok, going back to Cliff, I think Dušan could do Cliff really well too (he has that sincerity about him when he wants to) so maybe i’ll change my answer to that so that it could actually work. And if I go even more crazy, Adam Rezner’s take on Cliff could be interesting🧐

Ernst: if I’m going off of the typecasting that djkt usually does(sorry ok), it’s Hruškoci and it’s not even close😭 My slightly more adventurous pick would be Pavel R., he needs to play a hatable character (that people don’t want to fuck) just once tbh and I think he’d appreciate the challenge.

Fräulein Schneider: (keeping this short) Stanislava Topinková Fořtová

Herr Schultz: hmmm i don’t know the older guys that well so i don’t have anything smart to say on this one 🥲

—

Alright so.. this is a fucking mess, if you’ve made it through to here, I applaud you. I do really hope that we’ll get to see it at some point, though🥲

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Since so many of your AUs feature Peeta being in the military, do you think that's actually something he would join? If so, for what reasons? This is not a judgement, it's a genuine question!!

You might be surprised to hear this Anon, but I don’t especially think he would join the military in our world. I think it’s a possibility and I’ll get to that, but I don’t think it’s the most likely modern au path he’d take. The reasons I’ve put him in the military in many of my AU’s are varied. Sometimes, that’s what was specifically requested in a prompt.

Mostly though, it’s derived from the old world idea that the first born son in a family would inherit the business/lands/fortunes, etc, leaving the younger two to figure out their way in the world. Panem, and district 12 specifically, is not an easy place to live, and it’s not an easy place to support your family in terms of work. There are not a lot of options. Peeta’s got two older brothers, and given the situation in d12, I think it would behoove the oldest Mellark brother to claim the bakery as his and his family’s future source of income. He’s been trained for it his whole life, most likely, and even if it’s not what he wants to do, it’s bread on the table. Literally. This leaves Peeta and the middle brother to figure out how to support themselves once their oldest brother starts having a family and the bakery is no longer enough to support his brothers too. They already eat stale bread.

So in my AU’s, I translate that idea and tend to cling to that impoverished gentry idea that the two younger brothers will probably pick a profession. Law, medicine, the church, scholar/teacher, the military.

And well… it might be surprising to hear that the reason it usually ends up being the military in my fics is two fold and kind of lazy on my part. 1) Ready made reason to write Peeta as a traumatized amputee. 2) I’m personally far more familiar with the military and its issues than I am with the others.

So yeah, I’ll admit, this is one of the lazier aspects of my fic writing. If I knew more about those other professions, I’d be writing a lot more lawyer or EMT or teacher Peeta fics. But alas, I am not. And I already do quite a lot of research for many of my fics, so sometimes sticking a character in the military is an easy way for me to have less research to do. Sometimes it just fits the direction of the story better.

Why do I think he might join the military? Well, I’ve know a lot of people in the military since my life has always been tied to it. Dad was in for 20+ years, both my grandfathers were in for at least a little while, father in law for a short time, grandfather in law for 20+ years, myself for two years plus my time as a cadet, and everyone I worked with during that timeframe basically, my spouse and the vast majority of his coworkers, friends, etc blah blah blah. People join for all kinds of reasons, and most of them kinda suck, especially since sometimes it feels like the military is the best or only way out. Stable employment, escape from a shitty situation to include poverty, college scholarships.

So you can see where I might draw similar lines of reasoning for Peeta joining. HOWEVER… in every one of my AU’s, he won’t stay in for more than maybe 6 years max, depending on what’s happening around him and to him. I do not see him as the kind of character who would make a career out of the military.

Hope this helps explain a few things.

❤️ kdnfb

[invisibleicewands]

[...] Sheen—a man already well known for portraying real-life people onscreen—has outdone himself this year by playing two of the U.K.’s most famous figures, though the men in question could not be more different from one another. His leading role in the National Theatre’s Nye saw him transform into Aneurin Bevan, the beloved Labour politician who spearheaded the creation of Britain’s National Health Service and an icon to many throughout the United Kingdom. But for the actor, portraying the two men fairly close to one another led to the realization of some unexpected parallels. 

“It was interesting because I did literally go from finishing filming on this into rehearsing Nye,” Sheen tells Paste. “And so I was thinking about both of them at the same time, and it did make me think about the idea of the pursuit of power and the opportunities of privilege, and how differently you can use those things, and what you can put them to the service of. It was quite striking.” 

To say that portraying two men as different as Bevan (a Welshman from a Tredegar mining family) and Prince Andrew (the second son of Queen Elizabeth II) is a challenge feels like a massive understatement. But for Sheen, much of the work, at least from a character-building, was the same. 

“With Aneurin Bevan, there’s very little footage of him, so there was very little to go on,” he says when asked about his approach to playing two such very different men—with such very different legacies. “There’s lots written about him but very little to look at. And so piecing both of these characterizations together were very different kinds of processes. But I think what informs them both is—you’ve got to put your personal opinions aside, your judgments of characters you’re playing. Because, ultimately, you have to be looking out from behind their eyes and playing a rounded, complex character rather than an editorialized version of them.”

And to hear Sheen tell it, his performance—even when playing someone more like Andrew than Nye Bevan—still comes from many of the same places, both as an actor and an individual.

“[The performance] has got to be coming from somewhere. There’s got to be some compass that is guiding you in… I look for vulnerability, I look for contradiction. I look for when a person is getting in their own way, that kind of stuff. That’s my compass as an actor,” he says. “But then, there’s also my compass as a citizen, which you’re also putting into it. Your performance sits in the context of certain things you believe about the world and how things work in it. Inevitably, those two things, they’re sometimes the same compass and sometimes not. But they work the same for whatever character it might be.” [...]

“The car-crash nature of the interview itself and the memes that it feeds and the late-night chat show host opening monologue gags and all that sensationalized circus aspect obviously feeds our cultural appetites in huge ways,” Sheen says. “There’s a huge appetite for that. But the issues it also raises about privilege, exploitation, sex, and people in positions of power being able to silence people who don’t have a voice, it seems to explore a lot of areas we are culturally both fascinated and compelled by at the moment all in one story. Certainly, that’s what it speaks to for me.” [...]

“There’s been an ongoing debate, hasn’t there, about how you interview certain kinds of politicians and how difficult it has become to question certain kinds of people in positions of power and whether the media is somehow falling into traps being laid by those people,” Sheen adds. “That’s been an ongoing debate for about the last ten years or so, I’d guess. Particularly in the U.S., but also increasingly so in the U.K. as well.” [...]

“We’re used to the idea of politicians not answering the question and saying what they want to say regardless. But then, there’s a new wave of people who seem to have confounded a lot of journalists and sparked the debate of how you go about handling that,” Sheen says. “And [this interview] is an instance where someone voluntarily put themselves in a position of being exposed, and a journalist of great craft and skill did a masterclass on [how to do] that. I think that’s particularly… It speaks to something of now as well. That we will probably never see something like that happen again.”