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beccanoodles · 4 years ago

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Spike and Faye Pairing Analysis

March 2021

Ah the hit or miss pairing of the century! If you don’t love it, you probably hate it lol. I’m a very analytical person so I love analyzing works of art and overall enjoy deep discussions about them too. I have SO much to say when it comes to Cowboy Bebop (and oh I plan to), but I have decided to start with my very own OTP. Here, I am not really going to discuss Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other, but rather why I think people are drawn to this pairing and why I think they're totally valid. Get ready for a long read!😁

⚠️SPOILER WARNING!!! [Major Cowboy Bebop and the movie Out of the Past spoilers]⚠️

First off, let’s clear something up. I am confident most of us can agree that Spike was in love with Julia. Some people assume Spike and Faye fans are deranged and disregard Spike and Julia’s romantic relationship to try and make something of Spike and Faye that never was. While some people may have their various theories and opinions on this, generally, I don’t think anyone denies Spike’s love for Julia. As we will see, this pairing is not really driven by who loves who...let’s first look on the surface.

I don’t know your experiences with the series, but in mine, every time I show this to people it never fails for someone to say something along the lines of,

“Wait, they don’t end up together?”

“Why didn’t he kiss her!?”

“He should have stayed with her...”

and so fourth.

Naturally, this pairing catches many eyes.

Think about it, you are given two really cool, really hot and really deep characters that are really fun to see together! There are so many parallels between the two and they are arguably the strongest characters of the bunch. Granted, you can agree with this and still not ship them, but these aspects are part of what opens up the door for many fans of the pairing.

However, there is certainly more to this pairing than them simply looking good together right? As the years pass and I’ve now seen the show multiple times, my understanding of it has evolved in many areas, Spike and Faye included.

Spike and Faye really couldn’t have ended up together. Sure, it’s a nice thought, but It would have been an entirely different show if they had. I don’t feel that the show should have happened any other way and I don’t think many other fans would either.

So, what am I saying here?

What’s the point of this paring if I don’t think they should have ended up together?

It is what's so frustrating about them, yet keeps you coming back and what honestly validates this pairing in my opinion. Spike and Faye are not driven by what is, but rather, what could be.

I personally feel the themes of classic film Noir are not discussed enough when it comes to Cowboy Bebop! This is one of the show's major influences, especially when it comes to the plot and characters.

One of the common tropes of a film noir is that of a protagonist who is drawn back into his past and ultimate doom, usually by the “seduction” of a femme fatale. In these movies, the women are either a femme fatale [devious, dangerous, mysterious, greedy, troubled, or unreliable] or a woman of virtue [reliable, dutiful, trustworthy, conventional and loving].

I am going to use the 1947 classic, Out of the Past to make my comparisons from here on out.

In Out of the Past, Jeff is a former detective who gets caught up in a love triangle between a gangster and his girlfriend Kathie, sound familiar? He attempts to run away with her, but is betrayed and runs off to start a new life in a new town. Here, he meets Ann and falls in love with her, but of course, his past catches up to him and he is drawn back into the world of criminals (largely by Kathie’s involvement). This ultimately results in his and Kathie’s deaths and Ann’s heartbreak.

Even though Kathie is the femme fatale in this movie, I found myself comparing her more to Julia’s role in the show, than to Faye’s and I found that Faye actually fit best in Ann’s role (this is a bit unusual considering Faye is typically seen as the femme fatale of this show).

Does that mean I think Julia was as ill intentioned as Kathie or that Spike fell in love with Faye? Well, not exactly, let’s look at it a bit further.

“The kind of beautiful, dangerous ordinary that you just can’t leave alone...Like an angel from the underworld or a devil from paradise.”

Most of what we get about Julia is from Spike’s point of view. From this, we learn she is at the center of Vicious and Spike’s conflict, but aside from that she is basically depicted as “The Virtuous Woman” of a noir. The colors around her are warm and she is shown caring for Spike. There is an innocence and modestly about her as well.

Yet, when we finally do meet Julia, we get a different image. We know she is tied up with dangerous men, but is she herself a dangerous woman?

She is certainly capable of betrayal.

Suddenly she is a bad-ass-gun-toting woman in leather and black, surrounded by hues of grey and dark blue. Intentional or not, Julia is a major part of what lures Spike back into the past and ultimately to his death. In this case, Julia is the femme fatale of Spike’s story and thus, their relationship is doomed from the start.

Faye, on the other hand, is portrayed in somewhat of a contrast. When we first meet her, she is the clear cut femme fatale, appearing cunning, strong willed and seductive. However, we soon find that she has quite a bit of kindness and naivety hidden behind her facade. She uses the former tactics as a way of emotional (and probably physical) protection. Gren points this out in his conversation with her.

Gren,

“You’re just afraid they’d abandon you so you abandoned them. You distanced yourself from the whole thing.”

As the show progresses, we start to see less of her “femme fatale nature” and something more genuine. Think about it, between Hard Luck Woman and RFB Part 2 we don’t see much of Faye as her typical conniving or unreliable self, aside from changing the course of the Bebop maybe. Sure she takes off, but it isn’t at all for the same reasons she did in Jupiter Jazz or Speak Like a Child, for example.

I would argue we actually see her more trustworthy and caring than ever. Since I don’t want to spend too much time talking about Faye’s character development (not here at least) I’ll give one example of this.

When she returns to the Bebop after her encounter with Julia in RFB Part 1, she gives Spike the message, even though the outcome might hurt her (i.e. he leaves and/or dies). While she does first say “It’s gonna cost you,” she doesn’t really mean it because she tells him without hesitation only moments later.

This isn’t to say Faye good, Julia bad. Both women have their layers and even though we know way more about Faye, I don’t get the impression that Julia is selfish and cunning like Kathie was. But I do get the feeling she was enclosed in a world of crime and betrayal the way Kathie was. We really only know the basics of Spike and Julia’s situation. Who knows the details like motive or how long it lasted etc. etc. We can only speculate...

There is a scene towards the end of Out Of The Past, where Kathie tells Jeff to go away with her. This time it is her asking him, just like Julia asks Spike. During this she mentions,

“I never told you I was anything but what I am, you just wanted to imagine I was. That’s why I left you.”

This got me thinking...did Spike imagine Julia as something she wasn’t? Or something he wanted her to be that she just couldn’t be?

It could explain why we get such contrasted images of her.

There are themes of this “dreamlike” relationship between Jeff and Kathie, similar to Spike and Julia’s “It was all a dream.”

The two of them were going to “live and be free,” probably something neither of them knew how to do and most likely wouldn’t have been able to get away with.

When Jet asks Spike if he can just forget the past, this is his answer.

Spike,

“There was a woman. For the first time in my life I saw a woman that was truly alive. At least that’s what I thought. She was the part of me I had lost, that part that was missing, that I had been longing for.”

I always wondered about this, because Spike is clearly talking about Julia, but right after is when Faye shows up. To me, that spoke volumes...

Faye is a woman who is terribly human and terribly alive.

Going back to Faye and Ann, I find their similarities shine not so much in the “Virtuous Woman,” concept, but rather in Ann’s dedication to Jeff and her optimism for the future. She is also the last person to talk to Jeff before he leaves for the final time, as if he were being presented with one last alternative. Spike spends his last moments with Faye as well, in which she basically begs him not to go and keep him in the present that she has now discovered for herself. She may be stuck, but she is definitely someone that yearns for human connection, love, and life.

The problem is, Spike and Faye are both set in opposite directions. Her’s leads to a future and Spike knows this because he points it out early on (My Funny Valentine). He also knows, his most likely does not. He has already dug himself too deep into this hole, if you will, that there is really no turning back.

But let’s say none of that was an issue? What could be?

I sat and watched this movie (Out of the Past) with my mom. She didn’t know anything about it and didn’t know why I was watching it. I wanted her genuine reaction. The whole time she was getting mad at Jeff until the very end. I asked her why and she said that she wanted him to be able to live happily with Ann. I explained to her why he had to do what he did. She understood this, but still couldn’t help but be sad at how things turned out for him, when they could have been good.

Even though Kathie and Jeff are the “lovers,” of this movie, you don’t really want them to end up together. Forget that Kathie has a devious nature, regardless, you know where it has to end and you don’t want to see your hero die.

Like Kathie, Julia symbolizes Spike’s inevitable doom and Like Ann, Faye symbolizes his possible future.

“I’ll be with you till the end”

“You’re the one still tied to the past Spike!”

“Why do you have to go? Where are you going? What are you gonna do, just throw your life away like it was nothing?!”

It’s two sides of a sad coin...

We want Spike to have a future and because we love the characters of the show, it would be really great if he could have it with them, but that is where the tragedy is. It's only an idea we can think about, a possibility presented to us as it was to Jeff and Spike before their deaths.

The bottom line is, when it comes to Spike and Faye you are really only given a taste. You are not given what you expect to see, which is why I say this ship is driven by what could be. As it is with most of the character relationships in the show, no major breakthroughs are made until the very end, when it's too late. Then it just feels like such wasted potential, but sometimes in life, that's how it is. And thus, we have been given a very classic noir here ladies and gentlemen!

So no, I don’t think people miss the mark when they ship Spike and Faye, nor do I find they invalidate the show by any means. I kind of like that Watanabe switched it up and didn’t do the expected, but left us those subtle hints. He didn’t outright give Spike another lover, but he gave us someone that represents what he could have. Kind of does that with the crew as a whole too!

UGH. I love-hate this show and I love this pairing! Thank you for reading my thoughts and I know this may not be the case or reasoning for everyone, but just based on what I have seen around the community and where this show draws inspiration, this is what I have concluded. I didn’t get into Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other because it gets a little more theoretical there, but I would like to do a post on my thoughts on that as well sometime. I also didn’t touch too much on Spike’s reasoning for choosing to face Vicious in the end, just because I know that will only lead into a whole other analysis lol. But you know I have my thoughts on that and certainly plan to share them 😎 Also, I know I basically spoiled it, but Out of the Past is such a great movie!! I think if you’re a fan of this show it's definitely worth a watch! There are so many more parallels to Cowboy Bebop that I didn’t even mention. Anyways, thanks again and talk to you soon!

#Cowboy Bebop #Spike and Faye #spike x faye #analysis #cowboy bebop analysis #pairing analysis #pairing #my ship #out of the past #film noir #did i mention #I LOVE THIS SHOW #YES i've been working on this for two weeks like i was writing a midterm essay for school #DON'T JUDGE ME 🤓😂#OOTP is really good watch it #last scene gives me chills😨#spaye #faye x spike #faye and spike

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ironwoman359 · 4 years ago

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You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 4

Navigation: Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6

Summary: As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl’s indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé’s demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it’s too late.

Ships: Logince, side Moxiety and Dukeceit

Content Warnings (overall): arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst Chapter 4 Warnings: possessive behavior, verbal and physical abuse, angst, allusions to abuse and murder

Word Count: 4067

Read on AO3: here!

A/N: Co-written with @5-falsehoods-phonated, check out his masterlist here and check out mine here!

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“And when I tried to get down, Remus spooked the pony and it bolted, with me still clinging to the saddle for dear life.”

Virgil snorted, then immediately brought his hand up to cover his smile.

“You wound me!” Roman said dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Eight-year-old me was certain that his life was going to end, and you’re laughing?”

“I can’t help that the mental image of you dangling off the saddle of a pony and screaming your head off is the funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” Virgil replied.

“Be nice, Virgil!” Patton scolded, even as he fought back giggles of his own. “I’m sure it was very scary at the time!”

“You’re telling me,” Roman agreed. “I wouldn’t set foot near the stables for a month.”

“I can’t believe that after all that you somehow grew up to be a competent rider,” Virgil said.

“Well, I probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for my older brother Remy. He started taking me with him when he went out on his rides; I felt a lot safer riding double with him than I did by myself.”

“Your brothers sound wonderful,” Patton said, smiling.

“Oh, they’re the absolute worst,” Roman said. “But also I love them more than anyone.”

“I hope we’ll get to meet them at the wedding!”

Roman’s smile went brittle around the edges, and he forced himself to nod.

“I hope so too,” he said quietly.

Patton’s brow wrinkled, and Roman knew that look, that was Patton’s “I’m worried about you” look, and as much as he had come to view Patton and Virgil as his friends, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to get into the whole “my twin brother ran away from home to escape noble life and I haven’t seen him in years and might never see him again” topic with them just yet.

“Well this has been great,” Virgil cut in suddenly. “But it’s getting close to midday; I need to get back to work, and you need to get to your little lunch date.”

“Excuse you, it is a perfectly professional business meeting!” Roman protested, and Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Sure it is. That’s why you meet with Logan every single day and always perk up or get this silly smile on your face whenever you mention something that he said, most of which has nothing to do with business.”

Roman gave Virgil a deadpan look. “Do you really want me to retaliate right now?” he asked, glancing pointedly at Patton.

Virgil’s cheeks flushed pink, and he waved Roman away.

“Go on, then!” he said. “Go have your perfectly professional business meeting.”

“I will!” Roman said primly, but as he stood to leave, he shot Virgil a grateful smile, and Virgil nodded in return.

After parting with Patton at the house’s entrance, Roman made the short trek down to the library alone. He hadn’t been sure how he would manage living at the Howard Estate at first, but his life had settled into a predictable yet comfortable routine since the engagement banquet.

Patton brought breakfast to his room every morning, and after Roman insisted several times that he preferred the company, Patton now stayed to eat with him most mornings. After breakfast, Roman changed into his riding clothes and the two headed down to the stables together, where Virgil was waiting for them with Angel. Roman took his morning ride, and Patton and Virgil did whatever it was they liked to do when they were alone together.

When he returned, Roman helped Virgil groom Angel, and the three of them often fell into easy conversation with one another. At midday, Roman took his lunch in the library with Logan, and he spent the afternoons on his own, exploring the mansion or indulging in his creative hobbies. All in all, his days were mostly pleasant, until dinnertime, of course.

His nightly dinner with Lord Howard was, to his disappointment, the most boring and uncomfortable part of Roman’s day. It became clear to Roman after a few attempts of engaging with his fiance that Lord Howard wasn’t even slightly interested in talking with him; what he wanted was somebody to talk at. Roman sat, night after night, and listened to the earl rant about frustrating business partners, idiotic city officials, and even tiny annoyances like a scuff on his boot or a fly in his office. It was difficult to not feel like an emotional punching bag, and Roman always left dinner exhausted from playing the polite, doting fiance that Lord Howard expected him to be.

Roman stepped into the library, and smiled when he saw Logan sitting at a table beneath a window, the afternoon sun casting golden beams of light through his long hair.

At least there were more positives than negatives to living at this estate.

“Ah, Roman,” Logan said, smiling as he approached. “Excellent timing, I was just beginning to review my weekly report for Lord Howard. Would you care to assist me?”

“Always,” Roman said, sitting down across from him.

They poured over the receipts and summaries and work orders together, and Roman couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer amount of work that Logan did every single day.

“Honestly, Logan, you do almost too much for the earl. Especially considering what he pays you.”

Roman had seen the payroll receipts for all the staff, and he couldn’t help but be a little insulted on the servants’ behalf. One of the ways Lord Howard kept costs down was clearly at the expense of his staff.

“While I may agree with your sentiment, the fact of the matter is that if I did not do all this, the estate would fall apart,” Logan said. “And regardless of any...personal feelings about his lordship, there are far too many people who depend on him and his estate for me to consider stopping.”

Logan paused, frowning as he scanned a document, then sighed.

“For instance, his lordship neglected to sign off on a shipment of new armor to the city guard, despite my reminding him to do so three times in the last week.”

He scrawled something along the bottom of the document and set it aside, and Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Was that Lord Howard’s name you just wrote?”

Logan fiddled with his glasses, and he glanced around the room before answering. “This is...not the first time that his lordship has neglected his duties on what he perceives to be minor issues. I, uh...take the liberty of correcting such oversights for him.”

“You can forge his handwriting?” Roman translated, and Logan nodded sheepishly. “That’s amazing!”

Logan blinked, looking up at Roman in clear surprise. “I...it is?”

“Are you kidding me?” Roman exclaimed. “Of course it is...you’re so talented, Logan, really. I’m not exaggerating when I say you’re wasted as a secretary.”

“Oh...well, thank you, Roman,” Logan said, his cheeks flushing slightly pink. “I must admit, you also have far more potential than his lordship would care to acknowledge.”

“I’ll get him to see sense soon,” Roman insisted. “Then maybe together, we can make some real changes around here!”

“I wish I shared your optimism,” Logan said with a sigh. “But I am glad to share your company, at least.”

It was Roman’s turn to blush, but before he could think of a reply, the sound of footsteps caught his attention, and he looked up to see Patton approaching their table.

“Sorry for interrupting, Kiddos, but I’ve been asked to fetch Roman here and get him ready.”

“Get me ready?” Roman asked, and Patton nodded.

“His lordship requests your presence at a business meeting he has in an hour with other estate holders. I’ve been instructed to dress you for the event and bring you to his lordship.”

Roman forced down the twinge of discomfort in the back of his mind at the earl choosing an outfit for him like he was some sort of doll, and grinned as he got to his feet.

“You see, Logan?” he said. “This is our chance!”

“If it is a meeting with other nobility, then I’m afraid I won’t be present,” Logan said. “Lord Howard does not wish for...commoners to be present at such negotiations. He instructs me on what measures need to be taken afterwards.”

“That’ll be the first thing we change then, once I make him see reason,” Roman said. “You’ll see, this is going to be the start of something great!”

“I hope you are right,” Logan said with a small smile. “Good luck, Roman.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Roman said as he followed Patton out of the library.

I’ll certainly need it.

--- --- ---

Roman fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, shooting a glance over to the earl to make sure he hadn’t noticed. The silky fabric that his pants were made of stuck uncomfortably to his skin and made his legs itch horribly, but he had been in similar attire before and had had plenty of practice in the art of keeping his poise while screaming internally. Thankfully, even though he was seated right next to Lord Howard, he had yet to draw his attention. Howard had been too occupied bragging about his various business exports for most of the meeting to pay much attention to him.

Even through his discomfort, Roman had been learning a lot about his fiance, dutifully keeping mental notes on everything he heard, from which parts of land he had inherited to which ones he had bought or negotiated into owning. Overseas businesses and local investments both let his power reach farther than one might first suspect, and all that put together was what kept the Howard Estate with its acres of land, sprawling mansion and extensive grounds and highly specialized staff all running smoothly.

It was a lot to manage, so it made sense that Lord Howard had Logan figure out most of the work and only signed off on the most important things himself. Having someone as competent as Logan run things in the background so the true estate head could make the actual appearances as the business leader was a strategy many nobles used to keep their properties under control.

Craning his neck to look up at his fiance from his lower seat, Roman furrowed his brow in thought. He wondered just how much Logan did that the earl never saw anything about until he reaped the benefits of it. Sure, Logan was extremely capable, but relying entirely on one person to manage everything seemed a bit foolhardy to Roman.

Tuning back into the conversation, Roman perked up as another lord gestured stiffly at a stack of documents in front of him, smooth calculation clear in his tone of voice. Negotiations were something Roman had always prided himself in handling, and handling well. He had often spoken circles around his own father in their practice debates, and it was rare that Roman participated in a discussion without gaining something in his own favor.

As neither party at the moment looked particularly stressed, Roman figured with a slight twinge of disappointment that such measures shouldn’t be needed this time. He would have liked to show off just a bit and make Lord Howard see what a useful asset he could actually be in their marriage, but he supposed that could wait until a more appropriate opportunity.

“I have most of the influence in this field anyway. Signing your bit of land over to me now would cause fewer problems for you in the future; especially if I don’t have to take it by force when I’m looking to expand.” Punctuating his statement with a firm tap to the papers, the opposing lord sat back with a satisfied smirk.

The icy glare Lord Howard fixed him with was enough to wipe the smirk fully off his face, however, and he tilted back slightly as the earl leaned forward to fold his hands smoothly in front of him.

“I’m not in the habit of signing away what’s rightfully mine, Lord Rilken, Baron of Vilvik.”

Roman flinched slightly at the way he practically spat the other man’s title…a title he shared, and had never once felt insecure about until this very moment. The way he spoke to these men, these people in positions of power, like they were nothing but dirt to be brushed off his own much more impressive riches- it was enough to make Roman want to run all the way back to his own estate and beg for another way, plead to wait for someone else to ask for his hand or to find someone himself. He stiffened in his seat and shook the irrational thoughts away.

No, this is how one played the game when negotiating important matters. Put up a cold and intimidating front until the other person backed down or bent to your own suggestions. If anything, Lord Howard's act was admirable; it almost immediately shut down any arguments, even if it hardly held any semblance of tact. Realizing this would be a good opportunity to show his skills, Roman leaned forward and placed his own hands on the table in front of him, gaining the attention of the opposing business owners quickly.

“It might prove advantageous to you both to simply form a partnership and share the land and business potential it holds. With as much power as the both of you hold over this branch, you’d be able to expand much faster and reap more benefits than you would if you spent all of your time attempting to take control over the others’ sections.” Pleased with himself, Roman glanced over to Lord Howard, expecting at least to have impressed him since he hadn’t really had the time to explain all that he had been trained in and what he could bring to the estate with their union.

However, as he met Lord Howard’s eyes, ice ran through his veins. The earl was glaring, staring him down like a particularly resilient bug that he could hardly wait to smash beneath a steel-toed boot. The room went so quiet that Roman could swear that the other nobles were holding their breath, and glancing around in his peripherals, he saw everyone sitting around the table gawking at him as if he’d just committed high treason. Had he really said something so wrong? Was this not what was customary, nay, expected behavior of the soon to be co-owner of the estate? Shrinking down slightly as his ears burned red, he finally lowered his eyes as the earl turned away. Roman heard him take a deep breath before saying in a deliberately controlled voice:

“You must forgive my fiance, he hails from a country estate you see; he isn’t accustomed to the way things work here yet. If you would be so kind as to excuse us for just a moment so that I may explain a few things?” Not waiting for an answer, the earl stood and held out his hand for Roman to take. “If you would step into the hall with me, dearest?”

Recognizing the order under the request, Roman stood quickly and took Lord Howard’s hand, wincing at how tightly he was gripped and practically dragged out of the room. The door was opened just a bit too forcefully to calm his nerves in the slightest and he watched as Lord Howard seemed to barely refrain from slamming it back closed, instead closing it with deliberate calm before whirling around to face him and jerking his hand out of Roman’s to tower before him.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, you do not speak out of turn in these meetings. You do not speak above me or-”

“But I didn’t! I was only-” Roman didn’t register what the dull smacking sound echoing in his ears and making them ring was until pain bloomed and spread from his lower jaw to his entire cheek. Raising his hand to his face in disbelief, he felt a bit of wetness and looked to see blood on his fingertips. Fear and horror twisted in his gut as he realized one of Lord Howard’s rings must have caught on his cheek and opened a cut. His jaw ached and his teeth felt numb; the blow had been hard enough to rattle them in his skull. Romans looked up and flinched as he saw Howard’s hand still raised to strike should he choose to speak again, and he shrunk in on himself in an attempt to seem too small to expend more energy on.

“You,” The earl spat, “do not speak above me, or make suggestions on my behalf. You are not here to offer up useless opinions that were not asked for or needed. You were brought into that room to sit obediently and look pretty on my arm and that is the full extent that your role will ever be. Have I made myself clear?”

Roman hesitated for just a second too long, and Lord Howard reached down to grip his chin, tipping his head so he had no choice but to look his assailant directly in the eyes. “My dear, I believe I asked you a question, and I expect an answer.”

Biting back a whimper Roman nodded as much as he could with his face trapped in the steely grip. “Yes my lord, I understand perfectly. I apologize for overstepping, it won’t happen again.”

The answer, as demeaning as it had felt to say, seemed to appease the still seething man, and Howard dropped his chin and stepped back with a wolfish smile.

“Very good, see to it that it doesn’t. Now, I believe we’ve been here long enough. If you’re done blubbering, you may join me.”

Startling a bit at the choice of phrasing, Roman hesitantly reached up to touch his face, wincing as he realized there was more than just blood on his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, he carefully wiped the tears away before plastering on a small smile and moving to stand just behind the earl. He was loath to go back into the room like this, humiliation and blood reddening his cheeks, but he didn’t dare speak up for fear of more punishment. As Lord Howard opened the door and moved back to his place at the head of the table, he hardly spared Roman another glance, and Roman had no choice but to meekly follow.

Sitting down, Roman realized most of the people at the table were staring at him like one would a fresh kill, their expressions a mixture of pity and approval while they averted their eyes. Sinking down even lower as the meeting resumed, he realized this was to be the second part of his punishment. He was to learn and remember his role as Lord Howard’s betrothed and eventual husband. Sit still and look pretty, step a toe out of line and be punished, and make sure everyone in the room knew that the power held over him was just as absolute as the power the earl held over everything else.

“I’m pleased to know some people still know how to keep common folk in line. Truly, the disrespect-” Roman’s ears rang as someone close by whispered to another just loud enough for him to overhear, making him want to sink down even lower and let the floor swallow him.

The meeting continued on for what seemed like forever, but unlike before, Roman didn’t absorb a single word of what was said. The voices of the other lords washed over him as he sat as still as he could, hands clenched in his lap to keep them from trembling. When at last Lord Howard stood, Roman almost stood up next to him, but caught himself just in time and sent a questioning glance up at his fiance.

Lord Howard’s lips curled into a smile, and he held his arm out to Roman in invitation. Roman swallowed down his revulsion and stood, slipping his arm into the earl’s and schooling his face into a pretty smile. Lord Howard covered Roman’s hand with his own, and Roman’s skin burned at the touch.

“Well gentlemen, this concludes our discussion for the day, I do thank you all for coming.”

One by one the nobles stood, nodding to Lord Howard as they filed out of the room. Roman’s cheeks heated as several of them swept their eyes over him as they passed, their gazes lingering on the bruise blooming on his face. When at last, every one of them was gone, Lord Howard turned his attention to Roman, all false pleasantries gone from his expression.

“I trust that after today, any...confusion about your role here has been cleared up?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Yes, my lord,” Roman whispered, and the earl smiled.

“Good. Now go clean yourself up. Dinner is at seven o’clock sharp, and I expect you to look presentable.”

“Yes, my lord,” Roman repeated, and as soon as Lord Howard dropped his arm, he practically bolted from the room.

He hurried through the corridors of the mansion, head down and eyes stinging. When he finally reached his room, he all but slammed the door behind him, and collapsed to the floor, his shoulders shaking as he released the sob he’d been holding back for the past hour.

He let himself cry, for how long, he wasn’t sure, not only for the sting on his cheek and the shame that came with it, but for every doubt, every grief, every pain that he’d pushed down and bottled up over the past month.

After everything he’d been through, everything he’d sacrificed, was this really his fate? Chained forever to a man who only saw him as something to own, to display, to use...

Roman lifted his head slowly.

“Remember all that we've taught you, and you'll do fine."

His father had taught him everything he knew about business, about politics, about matters of the state. He knew how to act with decorum, how to spot an opportunity, and how to charm a room while negotiating, all thanks to his father’s teachings.

But now, with tears running down his face and a bruise blossoming on his cheek, he remembered another set of lessons.

Lessons his mother had given him as a teenager, after time had run its course and he was no longer the slightly awkward, gangly kid he had once been.

“You’ve grown into a handsome young man,” his mother had said to him on his eighteenth birthday. “Your father believes that when you are married, it will be purely for political reasons. You need to know that this may not be the case.”

Roman had tried to forget the lessons his mother had passed down to him, had told himself that he would never need them...but here he was, sobbing on the floor, the first of what he knew would be many marks on his skin if he didn’t tread carefully.

Roman learned everything he knew about running an estate from his father, but he learned everything about acting from his mother. Thanks to her, he knew how to conceal his emotions, how to smile when his stomach rolled over and how to sigh when his skin burned. He knew how to mold himself into the perfect husband, because if he did not let himself be molded he would find himself broken before it was too late.

“Too late for what, mother?” the younger him had asked, eyes wide and horrified, and she’d smiled in a way he’d never seen before.

“Did I ever tell you the story of how your grandfather died?”

Roman knew what situations were most likely to result in “accidents,” what weapons were easily concealed and what poisons were difficult to detect. He knew how to pluck a nose hair to bring tears to his eyes and slap his cheeks so they appeared flushed. He knew how to appear calm and collected when he was suffering, and how to appear stricken with grief when all he felt was relief.

He had been preparing for marriage his whole life...every kind of marriage. And now that he knew the kind of husband that Lord Howard really wanted, he knew exactly what kind of husband he was going to be.

Even if he wouldn’t be one for very long.

--- --- ---

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#sanders sides #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logince #moxiety #you don't own me #my writing #abuse tw

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mcmactictac · 4 years ago

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Pt. 3! This one is slightly different, but here’s some songs that remind me of different groups/friendships from the DreamSMP! (These are all character based, not the actual CC’s!)

Wilbur and Tommy: No children by the Mountain Goats

This is one of my top Wilbur songs, especially during the Pogtopia era. Wilbur is just a shell of the person he was before and Tommy is forced to sit and watch as Wilbur crumbles. Both of them desperately need each other, but it just isn’t enough this time.

“I hope it stays dark forever, I hope the worst isn’t over. And I hope you blink before I do, and I hope I never get sober. And I hope when you think of me years down the line, you can’t find one good thing to say. And I’d hope that if I found the strength to walk out, you’d stay the hell out of my way”

An alternate, somewhat happier option is Two Birds by Regina Spektor. It’s looking at Tommy and Wilbur as two birds, and one wants to let go and move on, and the other one is stuck in the same place they’ve always been. I personally interpret Wilbur as the bird who stays on the wire, as it reminds me of how attached he is to his country and the idea of ultimately destroying it. He lies to Tommy and says he wants to “fly” too, but he is inevitably always going to end up in that button room.

“Two birds on a wire. One tries to fly away, and the other. Watches him close from that wire. He says he wants to as well, but he is a liar.”

Tommy and Tubbo: Things we Lost in the Fire by Bastille

After all the war and constant destruction Tommy and Tubbo have sat through; having died multiple times and watching the nation they built get destroyed? They have a bond forged where they have watched everything they love get destroyed, and had to move on and keep going even when it felt impossible. This specific song reminds me of the aftermath of losing their home for the final time, and having to find something new to fight for. It also covers both of their guilt over what has happened between the two of them, and how they both blame themselves for how things have gone.

“I was the match and you were the rock, maybe we started this fire. We sat apart and watched, all we had burn on a pyre. We were born with nothing, and we sure as hell have nothing now. You said, we were born with nothing and we sure as hell have nothing now”

Bench trio: Who we are by Imagine Dragons

What I like about this song is that it addresses their struggles and problems, but doesn’t make them seem helpless and incapable. They grow out of the trauma and force themselves to become stronger because of it, resulting in many other problems, but they certainly aren’t weak. They’re just kids dealing with problems the only way they know how.

“We were never welcome here, we were never welcome here at all. No. It’s who we are, doesn’t matter if we’ve gone too far. Doesn’t matter if it’s all ok, doesn’t matter if it’s not our day. Oh save us, what we are. Don’t look clear, it’s all uphill from here”

Tommy and Techno: Welcome home son by Radical Face

Listen I like to live in a world where this ended well so I will be picking a happy song for this first BUT I have included an angstier option below too. I saw a beautiful piece of fanart to this song months ago, and it’s reminded me of Tommy and Techno ever since. In a post Logsted time where Tommy is still recovering from his trauma, and him and Techno are learning how to be friends again. Neither of them are great with expressing their emotions in canon, and they demonstrate their feelings through actions (Techno giving Tommy a new disc as a present since he knows he loves them) This song is less about the lyrics and more about the energy it has going on, it makes sense when you hear it.

“All my nightmares escaped my head. Bar the door, please don’t let them in. You were never supposed to leave. Now my heads splitting at the seams, and i don’t know if I can-“

And an angsty option for the hurt no comfort enjoyers, Goodbye my Danish Sweetheart by Mitski.

This would take place in the middle of doomsday, with the fight between Tommy and Techno arguing about who betrayed who. We know now that Tommy blames himself for betraying Techno, which makes this fit even better. It’s the sharp pain of feeling like you are not the person you used to be, and not in a good way. You sit there and mourn the loss of who you were, and how you are not the person who other people love anymore.

“Now I lay as I study a blank wall, would you spare me your voice if I call? Cause you waited and watered my heart till it grew, you just grew a little smarter too. And I don’t blame you in you want to bury me in your memory, I’m not the girl I ought to be, but maybe when you tell your friends you can tell them what you saw in me and not how I turned out to be.”

Early L’manberg crew: Born for This by the Score

This song still has the passion, optimism and hope of a united group who believes they are fighting for what’s right. It has that sense of unity heavily tied in with passion that was there with early L’manberg.

“I believe, I believe we can write our story. I believe, I believe we can be an army. We are the warriors, who learned to love the pain, we come from different places, but have the same name. Cause we were born for this”

I might circle back to some of the characters from part one, as I have a ton of songs that fit them, and there are lots of members who have lore I am behind on so I don’t have an accurate idea of where their character is at! I have a playlist right now with all of the songs I’ve used so far, so once I stop doing these I’ll post a list with all of the songs on here, and maybe include some of my favourites I never got around to writing explanations for!

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nexyra · 4 years ago

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RWBY Analysis - Ozpin & Ruby, on the concept of leadership

In her song "Burned out", Dodie sings of her fans, how they look up to her and how uneasy that realization made her. For everyone is at the end of the day just as human as their neighbour; and having the hopes and expectations of others put upon you when you're just as lost as them can be a frightening thing. And this... made me think of Ruby & Ozpin.

On the subject of leadership, Ozpin tells Ruby the following : “Being a team leader isn't just a title you carry into battle, but a badge you wear constantly. If you are not always performing at your absolute best, then what reason do you give others to follow you?”

While I love this quote, I also have to analyze the drawbacks of this mentality and how they align with both Ozpin and Ruby. At the time, Ruby is a newly appointed leader and unsure of this reality. Ozpin's counsel give her the confidence needed to step up as a leader and take her duties more seriously, which in return appeases Weiss' and make their team all the more balanced. It is, in that context, good advice. A good leader should strive to lead by example and work hard to be worthy of the respect others give them, both in and outside of battle.

However there is one aspect that I find much more complex and that is... what does it mean to "always perform at your absolute best" and to have others follow you ? Note the use of follow, people letting you lead alone as opposed to "standing by your side" or a similar expression. It showcases in my opinion one of the biggest problem of Ozpin's leadership, but one that I feel has been inadvertently repeated by Ruby's.

- - - - - - - -

To cultivate hope and lies

When it comes to Ozpin's lies, I am of the firm belief that he had good intentions. Soo if you think he's the scorn of this earth, this might be a good time to tap out :D Now, this said I have a lot to say on the subject but I'll keep this short to stay on track (& make another unrelated post to develop my thoughts.)

In my opinion, at the core of his lies stand different beliefs. And on the subject of leadership, I think one stands out in particular and aligns with the advice he gave Ruby : the need to perform at your best to give others a reason to follow you.

Ozpin is the reincarnation of a centuries-old wizard and the headmaster of a school : what is one aspect almost every character agrees on upon meeting him ? "Oh, he's wise. He's knowledgeable. He has the answers. He has his shit together. He can tell us what to do."

Inherently, Ozpin's existence inspires respect and reassure. Just like to a child, a parent is all-knowing and unbreakable, Ozpin's status automatically give others the assumption that he knows what he's doing. And this, in my opinion, is one of the core problems of his leadership.

May it be with his inner circle, with RWBY, with ANYONE really; as soon as Ozpin reveals himself there are unspoken expectations that will chain him. He has the knowledge, he was here when it all began, he's the one calling the shots so he HAS to know exactly what to do. In that situation, breaking down and revealing to everyone how lost Ozpin is, how out of his depth... is unconceivable. And this is where Ozpin's conception of leadership becomes a problem as well. If you always perform "at your best" then you keep your doubts to yourself, you hide your sorrows and you put on a brave face. There are expectations in place that Ozpin wants (needs even) to meet. And thus the hopes of others and Ozpin's desire to fulfill them feed one another, as a perfect recipe for disaster. Because the more time Ozpin spends acting as if everything is under control, the more the expectations pile up... And coming clean about his humanity, the fact that he's just as powerless as the rest of them, becomes impossible.

And in that sense, breaking down the pedestal Ozpin had been put on was probably one of the best thing to do for his own mental health (though the method lacked a bit of compassion in my opinion xD)

The other part that somehow causes problem is how RELIANT on him his inner circle is. Despite their apparent friendship, Ozpin is the clear leader and as soon as he's out of comission, everything falls apart. Ironwood is the only one to call out Oz but in the end still wishes for the wizard to tell him what to do in period of stress. Qrow plays spy and takes order but doesn't seem really interested in stading at Ozpin's side as an equal. Glynda is stern but still defers to him etc...

All of them FOLLOW Ozpin but are just a few steps off from standing at his side. And this is something I see reflected in Ruby.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Following optimism up until it fails you

In Vol6, as secrets and lies are brought to the light, the loss of Hope that Ozpin feared so deeply happens. Is it worth it ? What are we even going to do with an immortal foe ? Maybe we should just go home. In that situation, Ruby is the simple soul who manages to keep her optimism, stand tall and say "No. We are taking the lamp to Atlas." And from then on her position as a leader and a bacon of light is reaffirmed. As Jaune put it in V4 "You gave us the courage to follow you."

Now is that, in itself, a problem ? Of course not. In fact I loved seeing Ruby come into herself and take the lead in Vol6. The problem in truth comes after, from the ramifications. From Vol6 onward, Ozpin has essentially been rid of his leader position and Ruby inherited it. And on a surface level sure, they are pretty different. Ruby is certainly closer to her partners : they're a family and they care about each other.

However, she is still clearly put at the lead. The others relied on Ruby's optimism and resilience to get to Atlas, and continue to do so. Setting foot in Ironwood's office, Blake tells Ruby "We'll follow your lead". They trust her, and whatever Ruby does... goes. They lie to Ironwood and Yang expresses some hesitations but eventually rally to Ruby's decision. And I emphasize this again : it is Ruby's decision. They did not pre-emptively discuss this as a group and then let Ruby be the spoke-person. Yang herself in Vol8 criticizes not their actions but Ruby's choices. Ruby calls the shots, Ruby is responsible for what happens, Ruby is their beacon of hope... Ruby is the new Ozpin.

Ruby has to be optimistic, and make the decisions and take risks because she's the leader. When Ruby leaves the room to break down, conversation & strategy stalls : the others don't take the lead. When things go south, it's Ruby's choices that led them here. Ever since Ruby has left Beacon, the only person who consistently encouraged Ruby to express the BAD, to share the negative has been Oscar. Even her silver eyes ask her to focus on only the happy memories to go off without a hitch ! The others comfort, they smile, they trust, they love even. But they don't want depressed Ruby finally grieving, they don't want honest "I don't know what to do" : they try to bring back confident and optimistic "we're gonna try" Ruby Rose. They want their earnest and happy but ultimately perfect leader that gives them reason to follow. In the end, even if they deeply care for her and have no shortage of warm coated reassurances for the teen, they still chain her down with their expectations. Ruby is NOT built for this. And I don't even say that in the "why is a kid calling the shots" sense, but "why is a kid put in a position where she's RESPONSIBLE for calling the shots ?"

Ruby is the youngest of the group apart from Oscar. The others should not rely on her this much to function. Blake telling Ruby that she looks up to her and that they'll follow her lead is admittedly sweet, but still builds up the pressure weighing her down. Blake calling out for Ruby's help when the teen has just been crashed to the ground by the Hound isn't even sweet anymore. They're all supposed to be equals. Blake is just as capable as Ruby. Calling out to your mind-controlled friend to bring them back from the edge is good. Calling out to your 17-old sister who's been beaten up because you need her to fight isn't.

They need to recognize that Ruby should not hold up the place alone. Because yes, they love her. But at the end of the day, Ruby is still the one bearing the weight of their decisions... Alone, even surrounded.

✦ ✦ BURNED OUT - DODIE ✦ ✦

He was certain; So was I There was comfort in her sighs

Dreams and ideas should not be the same thing You waited, smiling for this?

Oh, she'd want it, if she knew She could take it, I thought too Be careful, be cautious but you just wished harder You waited, smiling for this?

"But they love you!" Over and over, "they love you!" Thousands and thousands of eyes just like mine Aching to find who they are

"Oh, they love you!" Oh, you can feel how they love you ! Coated and warm but that's all they can do Words only get through if they're sharp

Oh, how fitting For one so fake Make me a fairy Whatever it takes

And just like a tale my dream was a scam You waited, smiling for this?

I am burnt out I smell of smoke It seeps through her cracks and so I start to choke Sentences sit in her mouth that are templated You waited, smiling for this?

Oh, maybe I'll talk about it... (maybe I'll talk about it) I can just talk about it... (I can just talk about it) I'll never talk about it... (I'll never talk about it) No, I cannot talk about it...

Don't build hope on something broken I am not cartoon. Cry for help, I am not joking I might just leave soon

#rwby #rwby analysis #rwby thoughts #character song #professor ozpin #ozpin #ruby rose #lyrics collage #rwde #does this count as rwde?#feel free to disagree in the reactions/reblogs I read everything !

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official-weasley · 4 years ago

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Molly's Wrath (The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley AU)

Warnings: Molly being...well Molly

Word count: 3,502

Characters: Charlie Weasley and my OC Nova from TICW which you can find here

Charlie

“Do you have everything?” I asked the second Nova came down the stairs.

“We're only going to be gone for a few days,” she gave out a gentle smile, “if everything goes well, of course.”

“I don't care what they say, it's our life.” I walked to her and pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“Are you prepared to answer all the questions?”

“Like what?” I asked bemused.

“Like why did it happen, how could you be so irresponsible, where are you going to live and your answer better not be the Sanctuary!” Nova imitated my mum.

“How about I just roll my eyes every time like Ron usually does?” I chuckled.

“Charlie, this is serious!” Nova whined.

“I know you're nervous but you worry too much.” I made her let go of the bag she was holding and wrapped my arms around her in a tight embrace.

“What if they don't approve, what if your mum doesn't approve?” Nova started to panic.

Ever since we found out we are going to have a baby and I mentioned that we might be scolded by my parents for getting pregnant before getting married, Nova has been having a hard time falling asleep and dreading to tell my family.

“And what is she going to do? Ground us?” I giggled.

“What if...what if...” Nova's lip started to tremble, her gaze on the wall next to us.

“What if what, love?” I tilted my head, hoping she will look me in the eyes.

“What if she makes us give her away?” Nova whispered.

“Her?” I gasped. “We're having a girl?!” I exclaimed. “How do you know?”

“I-I don't.” Nova smiled sheepishly. “I just have a feeling it's a girl. I can't quite explain it.”

We haven't been to St Mungo's yet as Madam Finch suggested us to go but we made an appointment and we are going there after our visit to the Burrow. The night after we found out about the baby, we discussed if we would like to know the gender and we both agreed that we would like it to be a surprise – we would be happy whether it's a boy or a girl.

I was certain that I would be as happy having a daughter as having a son but now that Nova said she thinks it's a girl, I couldn't help but hope for it to be true. I have 6 siblings, only one being a girl so when I imagined having a family with Nova I first thought of a girl that looks just like her.

I couldn't stop my lips from curving into a smile imagining a little Nova running around our living room, giggling as I am chasing after her, trying to tickle her while Nova is sitting on the sofa and laughing at our shenanigans.

“Char? You with me?” Nova waving her hand in front of my face brought me back from my daydreaming.

“Huh, yeah.”

“What were you thinking about?” Nova pressed her lips together not to chuckle.

“Oh, nothing. Just us having a girl.” I scratched the back of my head, feeling the heat on my cheeks.

“You're adorable, do you know that.” She ruffled my hair and kissed me on the lips before starting toward the door.

“Nova, wait.” I reached for her hand to stop her.

Her saying that we're going to have a girl made me completely forgot about her worries about telling my family.

“C'mon, Char. We can daydream later.” She chuckled. “We have to go if we don't want to miss our portkey and you know I don't want to know what apparition will do to my stomach. I already don't like apparating.”

“I just don't want you to go there all worried, thinking that my mum will make you give up the baby. She will probably be mad but she loves children and has been nagging us to make her a grandmother for years.” I tried calming her.

“I know, but Molly is also very traditional and I got pregnant before we got married.” “And you'll give birth after we get married. Problem solved!” I lifted my hands in the air, enthusiastically.

“Right.” Nova's eyes were narrowed, still skeptical of my optimism.

“Your mum was happy about it.” I won't stop giving her reasons for her not to worry.

“No,” Nova giggled, “my mum was ecstatic.”

“Exactly! My mum will be just as happy.” I rubbed my chin. “If your mum didn't tell her yet.”

Nova's mum visited us a few days ago and since it was the day after we found out we decided to tell her. Well, Nova more or less blurted it out because she couldn't hold in the excitement and Olivia would find out sooner or later, because she always knew when we were trying to keep a secret.

To say that she was happy to have a grandchild was an understatement. She already asked if we need anything, offered to move to Romania so she could babysit, started to lecture Nova about all the baby things she has to know before she gives birth, and of course, cried her eyes out along with her daughter.

“We made her swear.” Nova sounded confident that for once, our mums won't tell each other everything about us that the other doesn't know.

“You made her pinky promise, love.” I bestowed her with a soft smile.

“Hey, those a serious!” Nova laughed.

“We're going to be fine. Now, come on.” I kissed her one more time and gestured for us to leave our home.

—

The second the portkey transported us to the hill at the Burrow I began to feel nervous. Nova grabbed my hand to get my attention and nodded toward the tree where I surprised her with a midnight picnic all those years ago.

I smiled at the memory that rolled in front of my eyes. We barely started dating back then and now we lived together, were about to get married, and had a baby on the way. Sometimes I still need to pinch myself to know that this is my real life as I never imagined it to be so perfect.

“There they are!” The second we stepped through the door my mum pulled us both in a tight hug.

I looked at Nova, who looked paler than usual and I knew that her nerves were getting the better of her.

I knew at once that all of my siblings were probably playing Quidditch outside and as much I was would like to join them, I found this a perfect opportunity for us to tell my parents the news alone.

“So, how's the planning going?” My dad asked the second we sat down in the living room.

“We're on a tight schedule but we're managing,” Nova said, covering her mouth with the cup of tea my mum brewed.

“What Nova is trying to say is that she can't decide which of the girls will be her maid of honor.” I chuckled and took a sip of my tea.

“You still haven't decided!” My mum returned from the kitchen, looking perplexed.

Nova swallowed thickly and shook her head slowly.

“But you're less than 10 days away from the wedding.” My mum forgot how to close her mouth.

“They are coming to visit us in a few days and they'll discuss it then. Right, love?” I put my hand over Nova's to make her stop having a mini panic attack.

“Yeah.” She nodded quickly and started blowing on her tea to distract herself.

Nova has never been afraid or intimidated by my mum. On the contrary – she saw her as a mother figure and it always meant a lot to me that they get along so well. But ever since we announced the date of our wedding, my mum has been sending her letters non-stop about how she should do and arrange everything.

Nova, of course, couldn't bother with so many things because we wanted to keep it as simple and as minimalistic as possible. So picking out the right napkin color and the right flowers was something that just didn't concern her. The second she mentioned that to my mum – making a mistake of telling her that she doesn't need all that even though she appreciates her help – my mum raised her voice at her for the first time since they were introduced at King's Cross when we were 12.

Nova knew that Molly was just excited and that she didn't mean anything bad by saying a few things a tad too loud. Nonetheless, now every time we visit or she gets a letter from her, she becomes nervous and acts like a child waiting to be scolded by their mother.

I talked to her about it and she said that she just can't help it – saying that she loves my family so much and wants the wedding to be perfect for everybody. She has calmed down a bit over the last month but knowing we would have to do a lot of things last minute, she was still a bit shaky.

“Did you at least talk to Bill yet?” My mum asked another question after a moment of silence.

“No,” Nova mumbled.

“She is going to talk to Bill when he will accompany her to her dad's grave tomorrow,” I answered for her.

“I just don't understand why do you have to do everything so last minute.” Mum sighed.

“They're busy, Molly. Give them a break.” Dad said gently, then turned to me and sent me a wink. “I am sure the wedding will be just lovely.”

“Of course, it will be lovely. We have been waiting for this for years.” Mum pursed her lips.

“Speaking of waiting for something for years.” I cleared my throat. “We have something else to tell you.”

“Oh, more exciting news?” Dad jumped in his seat.

“We're...”

“Oh, thank Merlin, you're finally moving!” Mum clapped her hands together, interrupting me.

“No.” I shook my head.

“Molly, let them finish.” Dad put an arm around mum's shoulder, shaking her a little.

“Why not?” Mum completely ignored dad's gesture and furrowed her brows.

“Mum...”

“Haven't we been through this?”

“Can you just listen...”

“You can't live in that Sanctuary forever, Charles.” She kept interrupting me.

Dad sighed, shrugged, and tried to calm me down with a faint smile. I glanced at Nova, who was nervously tapping her foot and biting the inner side of her cheek, her eyes on my mum.

“Mum, please...” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“I didn't say you have to come back home but nobody's going to tell me that there isn't a village in the apparition distance where you could find a nice house and...”

“I'm pregnant!” Nova blurted out, leaving my mum speechless.

“You're...” Mum's eyes kept switching between me and Nova, her mouth slightly opened.

“We're going to be grandparents!” My dad got up so abruptly that he almost knocked over the coffee table.

He walked to Nova, looking at her tummy, teary-eyed, and pulled her into the tightest hug I think she has ever gotten from him.

“Congratulations.” He whispered in her ear before letting her go and coming to me to do the same. “Do you know the gender yet?” He asked excitedly and I shook my head.

“Molly, come on, say something.” Dad wiped his eyes and sat back down.

“What's the rush?” She said under her breath.

“What?” I asked, incredulously.

“What's the sudden rush? What happened to 'no mum, we aren't ready to have kids yet, let us enjoy life'?” Her voice rising.

“You're the one that nagged us about making you a grandmother!” My brows came together and I raised my voice at her.

“This wasn't planned, was it?” She hissed at me, ignoring my comment.

“Molly, calm down. We should be happy for them.” Dad extended his hand to prevent her from standing up.

“Planned?” I let out a laugh. “Like Bill was planned? Like I was?”

Mum gasped but said nothing.

“We're not even two weeks away from the wedding, what does it matter?” We all turned to Nova now.

“She's right, Molly. They are getting married and they are starting a family. It's all you talk about since they got engaged.” Dad tried calming mum down one more time.

“But they are not ready, Arthur!” Mum turned to dad, giving him an angry look. “They don't even know how to plan a wedding, let alone have a baby. They live amongst the most dangerous beasts not even thinking about moving! How can you be supportive of this?”

“Molly, that's enough!” That was the second time I have ever heard my dad raise his voice.

The only other time was when the twins nearly burned down the house in my second year.

“They are adults, they both have a good job and they can take care of themselves, right?” Dad's frown disappeared when he looked at us.

“Y... Excuse me.” Nova put her hand over her mouth and got up.

“Nova...”

“It's alright, Char. I got it.” She said as she disappeared on the stairs.

“She already has morning sickness?” If I didn't know any better, I would say that that was concern in my mum's voice.

“Oh, now you want to know more?” I rolled my eyes and stood up. “I need some fresh air.”

“Charlie, wait.” Dad made me stop walking as he closed the front door behind us.

“No, dad. I'm sick of this. She never listens and she has never been supportive.” I sighed and leaned against the wall next to the door. “She shouted at me for 3 hours when I made my final decision to move to Romania and she sent Bill a Howler when he accepted the job in Egypt. I have enough of this.”

“I know. I'm sorry.” Dad put a hand on my shoulder.

“You have nothing to apologize for, dad. You have supported us all in everything we ever did.”

“She will come around. The news just caught her off guard. You have to know that you and Nova starting a family has been the main topic of our conversations for months.” Dad smiled at me.

“Then why did she throw such a tantrum? Why can't anything ever be easy with her?” I frowned, trying to keep my voice down.

“You and Nova remind her of us when we were your age. Yes, it's no secret that neither you nor Bill were planned,” dad's cheeks turned scarlet, “and we struggled to get everything in order. Your mother is just worried because she doesn't want you to go through the same thing. She wouldn't trade you two boys for anything in the world but she wishes she would be more prepared and she just doesn't want you to struggle as we did.”

“But we won't. We might not know everything about babies but we are willing to learn. Olivia said she will send Nova some books and we have an appointment at St Mungo's tomorrow and yes, we didn't plan to have a baby quite so soon but dad,” I took a deep breath, “you should've seen us when the test showed a plus. We were so excited. We might not be the most knowledgable but I know we are ready for this.”

“I know you are, son,” dad pulled me into a hug, “you're going to make great parents.”

“Thanks, dad.” I couldn't stop the grin from spreading all over my face. It meant the world coming from him.

“Parents?” We broke apart when we heard voices behind us.

Ginny, Fred, George, and Ron were looking at us, their mouths wide open, brooms in their hands.

“I'm...I'm going to be an aunt?!” Ginny started shaking from excitement.

“We're going to be uncles!” Fred and George said in unison.

“Is Nova really pregnant?” Ron smiled and I nodded.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Fred dropped his broom and stepped to where dad and I were standing.

“We want it to be a surprise, so we don't know.” I chuckled.

“Fred, I will bet you 3 Galleons that it's a boy.” George turned to his twin, offering him his hand to shake.

“You're on!” Fred shook it at once.

“I want to bet too!” Ron appeared next to the twins. “I think it's going to be a boy too!”

“I think it's going to be a girl!” Ginny lifted her chin confidently.

“Ginny, you don't even have 3 Galleons.” George laughed.

“I don't need them, because I am going to win.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Are you going to bet too, dad?” I turned to him.

“Why not!” Dad shrugged. “I'm with Ginny.”

One by one my siblings hugged and congratulated me before grabbing their brooms and running towards the shed.

“I'm going to check up on Nova.” I turned to my dad.

“You do that, son. I'll talk to your mother.” He opened the door for us.

I ran up the stairs, stopping in front of the bathroom to catch my breath, ready to knock on the door when I heard voices inside.

“Let it all out, dear.” I heard my mum say gently, Nova vomiting. “There you go. Almost there, you're doing great.”

“Thank you, Molly,” Nova said as she flushed.

“I think I owe you an apology.”

“It's okay. I understand that this isn't ideal.”

“No, it's not okay. I know I made Charlie very upset and I didn't even ask you how you feel about it.” Mum sighed.

“I want a family with Charlie but I always bottled it, telling myself it's not the right time and that we should wait. When we were walking to the store to get the test I panicked because I wasn't sure how I would feel if the test showed that I was pregnant. But as we were waiting for it to show the result, the excitement in my chest growing, I knew that I would be sad if we would see a minus and Charlie wanted it to be positive too and when we finally looked we were so happy. We both want this and it feels right.”

“It really does.” I heard my mum move as Nova started vomiting again. “There you go. You can do this.”

“I am sorry. I should have approached the situation differently.” Mum said after a few seconds of silence when Nova stopped once again.

“Perhaps.” Nova let out a chuckle.

“I just don't want you and Charlie to be like me and Arthur. We had no idea what we were doing when Bill was born and we had no one to help us.” Mum inhaled and exhaled sharply.

“But we have you and my mum and we are eager to learn as much as we can before the baby arrives.”

“I know. It's different. You'll manage just fine.”

I knocked on the door, deciding to stop eavesdropping.

“Can I come in?”

I heard my mum stand up and unlock the door.

“Of course, Charlie.” She said gently, avoiding my eyes.

I sat down next to Nova and kissed her forehead.

“How are you feeling?” I whispered.

“I think it's going to end soon.” She smiled gently.

“It's better than yesterday then.” I tried being positive.

“Oh, definitely. Yesterday we camped in the bathroom.” She giggled.

“We are going to the healers tomorrow. They'll tell you if you can expect this to end any time soon.” I pressed my lips against her forehead again, stroking her hair.

I looked up at my mum, who was standing silently at the door, smiling and tears in her eyes.

“Mum? What's wrong?”

“Oh, nothing!” She swung her hand while wiping her eyes with her other one before kneeling next to us. “I am so sorry, Charles.” She sobbed. “I was wrong. You are ready and you will be so great at this. Congratulations!”

I pushed Nova gently off me and hugged my mum. After dad calming me down and hearing mum talking to Nova, I decided not to hold any grudges. I understand that she just wants the best for us but sometimes doesn't know how to show it properly.

“It's okay, mum. You just need to learn to think before you speak and just listen to us.” I said nonchalantly.

“I know. I am working on it.” She nodded even though I knew she felt called out.

“Does your mum know already?” She turned to Nova after she flushed the toilet again.

“Yes, we told her a few days ago.” Nova smiled.

“Oh, I am going to go and write her a letter.” My mum clapped excitedly and left the bathroom.

“They will probably discuss if it's a boy or a girl.” Nova giggled and I followed because I knew that that was exactly what will be the main topic of their correspondence until our baby is born.

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #harry potter fanfiction #hphm charlie #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #hogwarts mystery mc #the weasleys #hphm fanfiction #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #hphm imagine #charlie weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #the burrow

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wherevermyway · 4 years ago

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why can’t we drink forever? (1/2) // minsung // 18+

one: i will only complicate you series navigation: [desktop] [mobile]

⚠ POTENTIAL TW: READ WITH CAUTION! ⚠ pairing: lee minho x han jisung rating: explicit! 18+ warnings/tags: creator chose not to use archive warnings, explicit sexual content past character death, alcohol abuse/alcoholism, depression, edgy cynical depressed jisung, ambiguous/open ending. word count: 5,883 also on AO3

originally posted: 20 january 2021

After being arrested for driving under the influence, Jisung learns that money can buy his way out of jail time, but it can’t buy his way out of his feelings.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable, please stop reading now.

“I don’t know how things got this way, Sungie, baby. I’m worried about you.”

A sarcastic huff leaves the lips of the young man seated in the passenger seat of a sleek, new all-white Audi. He kicks his feet up on the dash, earning a frown from the middle-aged woman driving the vehicle. The young blonde stares out the window as he fumbles around his hoodie pocket. Out comes a white pack of Marlboro Gold cigarettes and an engraved silver lighter.

“You and me both, ma,” he tuts as he pops a white cigarette up from the pack into his mouth, flicking the dial of his lighter as he takes in a deep breath. He jams a finger down on the window button, the crisp winter air blowing the grey cloud around, the acrid scent of burnt tobacco filling the car. “Guess if we knew the answer to that, I wouldn’t be in the car now, huh?”

“Maybe you’d have gotten into a better university,” his mother sighs as she shakes her head.

A devious smirk curls up on the young man’s mouth as he brings the cigarette up to his lips again, taking a long drag. He knows better than to verbally respond with a cynical quip.

Maybe I’d be fuckin’ dead.

Alcoholics Anonymous sounded like a cult following: a twelve-step programme where all of its members had to follow a strict code, be mentored by a sponsor, and thank some bullshit deity to be given a new chance every day. “Every day is a new chance,” the cult leader would say at the beginning of every meeting. “May God grant us the serenity…”

“I’m Jisung, and the courts told me I’m an alcoholic, so I guess I’m an alcoholic,” the artificial blonde shrugged his shoulders, the ghost of burnt coffee still dancing on his tongue as he spoke.

The mindless cult drones spouted off a casual “hi, Jisung,” in monotonous, unenthusiastic unity as the young man sat down.

“How did you get here?” The meeting’s leader was relentless in prodding the young man. “You’re not obligated to tell us, of course,” which was a boldfaced lie, “but acknowledging your problems might help your recovery.”

Jisung brought the styrofoam cup full of lukewarm, acrid coffee to his lips and took a long sip. He winced at the taste and pursed his lips as he made eye contact with the leader. “I was abducted by aliens, man, now I’m here. Shit was crazy.”

The leader frowned, ready to interrupt Jisung.

“Nah,” the young man kicked his feet out from under the metal fold-up chair, flipping his hood over his head with his free hand. “I got drunk, went out to get more booze, then hit a tree on the way back and the cops pulled me over since my headlight was out. The internet wasn’t lying when they said all cops are fuckin’ bastards.” His quip earned a laugh from a few younger members, whereas several of the older people shook their heads in frustration.

“Please,” the leader sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “let’s refrain from political commentary. Thank you for your,” there’s a pause as the leader clears his throat, “for your candor, Jisung. Now that we’ve introduced all of our new attendees, why don’t we move along with the next step in the meeting?”

The meeting was pointless, all of the same shit that Jisung had read about in the fliers that were handed to him with his sentencing. He had to endure twelve months of this, but it wasn’t like he was doing much else with his life, anyways. Jisung poured the last of the disgusting coffee from the cardboard takeaway box into his cup, then tossed the box into the large rubbish bin at the end of the table. One last cup of free shitty coffee before he left; it would pair nicely with the cigarette he so desperately craved.

“Hey!” A bright voice came up behind him and Jisung rolled his eyes at the way optimism dripped from the trill. He slowly turned around, taking a sip of the cold coffee in his cup. A young man with neon pink hair, probably the same age as Jisung, smiled widely as he stuck his hand out. “I’m Felix, nice to see someone here that’s about my age.”

Jisung gingerly accepted the hand and shook it twice before quickly sticking his hand back into his pocket. “Charmed. How long are you stuck here for?”

“Oh!” Felix shook his head, smile still wide on his face as he pensively looked down to his shoes. “I’m not here for… well, I’m a psychology major.”

Of course he was.

Felix tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and tapped his foot twice as he continued to smile at Jisung. “I’m also new here and was hoping I could make friends.”

Jisung shook his head, reaching into his hoodie pocket for his pack of cigarettes and familiar silver lighter. “I’m not a good influence. Don’t think I’d make good friends with someone so… nice.” He meandered a white cigarette out of the packet with a single hand, then tucked it behind his ear, lighter still tucked into his palm. “No offence, dude.”

The smile finally fell from the pink-haired man, who quickly pulled his hands from his pockets, “wait, wait!”

Jisung cocked an eyebrow at the man, biting his tongue as he felt the clawing at the back of his head, his synapses screaming a plea for him to get a hit of more nicotine.

“I don’t wanna sound desperate,” Felix ran his bottom lip under his teeth as he looked around nervously, “I just really wanna talk with someone that’s so different than me. I’ll even buy you dinner or something from the diner down the street.”

As insulting as the words ‘so different than me’ came off to Jisung, desperation was a bad look for anyone. “You got a car?” Felix nodded twice, biting his lip as he stared at Jisung. “Lead the way, psycho student Felix.”

Felix’s eyes went wide and his bright smile came back, beaming brighter than before. “It’s psychology, not psycho.”

The blonde rolled his eyes as he plucked the cigarette from behind his ear and tucked it in between his teeth. “I know what I said.”

The food at the diner was mediocre at best: rubbery scrambled eggs and burgers made from frozen patties that were likely a concoction of rejected organ meat slurry and textured vegetable protein. It was cheap, but it was always good. Rich in comfort, lacking in quality: the antithesis to Jisung’s life.

Jisung hadn’t been here in two years, not since his friend turned on-again, off-again boyfriend Changbin left for university, halfway across the country. This was the place they’d come to at three in the morning after hitting up a house party, where they would drunkenly curl up with each other and swap kisses that tasted like stale beer and watery coffee.

This was the place where Changbin broke up with Jisung for the final time, Changbin citing that they wouldn’t be able to stay in contact much anymore. However, he hadn’t told Jisung that he was sleeping with someone that graduated a couple years prior and was conveniently attending the same university as him.

That night tasted like vodka and strawberry soda, the latter of which Jisung never let grace his tastebuds again.

The blonde scowled down at his orange juice, watching the ring light above their table shimmer and ripple in the liquid. He hadn’t heard from Changbin in two years, and he was as bitter about it as the black, burnt edges of the hashbrowns that stuck to his plate.

“You okay?” Felix poked his fries with a fork, bringing one to his lips as he scanned Jisung’s expression.

“Are any of us okay, psycho student?”

Felix furrowed his brows and set his fork down against his plate, chewing on the crinkled french fry a bit before he swallowed. He folded his hands together and rested his chin against the interlaced fingers. “No, like,” he shrugged, eyes shifting around a bit, “I mean it. You seem kinda distant.”

Jisung rolled his eyes up to meet Felix’s and he cocked his eyebrow. He was starting to regret tagging along with this kid he barely knew, feeling like this was less of a potential friendship and more like a therapy session. “You don’t know me, man.”

“No, but I know people.”

“You’re a sophomore psychology student, dude. You don’t know shit.”

The pink-haired man sighed, back thudding against the plasticky booth. “I guess you’re right about that. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to know, though.”

“Your funeral, then.” Jisung followed suit, leaning up against the booth with a bit more tact, swinging his arm around the wood frame. “I had my first sip of alcohol when I was thirteen. Got bored when my parents fucked off to Italy on some shitty trip without me.”

Felix tilted his head up like a dog, suddenly alive with renewed interest.

“They’re only parents in blood and title.” Jisung looked down at the table, scratching inanely at a chip in the pale green linoleum. “I was raised by nannies and tutors until I was fifteen. Most parents would probably panic when they leave the house, coming back to an empty liquor cabinet. My parents? Nah, they just restocked it and told me not to drink too much at once.”

“That’s,” Felix’s voice trailed off as he looked away, milling over the new information.

“It’s fucked,” Jisung finished the sentence, then brought the plastic cup of orange juice to his mouth and took a long sip. He set the cup back down and pulled up the sleeve covering his left arm, presenting the flesh over the table. Felix visibly recoiled as he eyed dozens of scarred lines littered across the skin, some marks still relatively fresh. “Their response to this? ‘We’ll get you into therapy and you won’t do this again.’ It was always the best money could buy, but their money didn’t do shit to my brain.” He shuffled the cloth over his arm again, ignoring the look of pity Felix offered him.

“If money could buy them a better son, they would’ve traded me out, like upgrading a car on a lease.”

Felix stumbled over his words a bit as Jisung rifled through his pockets, pulling out his phone and his wallet. “You still wanna make friends with someone like me?”

It took a moment, but Felix tentatively nodded his head. “Doesn’t sound like you have many friends to begin with,” he nervously sputtered out.

Jisung cocked his head to the side and licked his teeth as he smiled. “I don’t do friends. But life’s full of surprises. Anyway, gimme your phone so we can swap contact info.”

They exchanged phone numbers and Jisung dropped a couple of bills on the table. “Don’t worry about it,” he said as soon as Felix opened his mouth to protest, “you’re a university student and I’ve got my shitty parents’ cash to burn.”

“I’ll see you next week?” Felix questioned as Jisung stepped out of his shoddy 2003 Toyota Camry.

Jisung nodded once, tipping his index and middle fingers off of his forehead. “You got it. Thanks for the ride, mate.” He slammed the door with a fake smile that faded as soon as he turned around. Sure, Felix was the antithesis of everything Jisung was, but he could prove to be a source of entertainment over the next year.

Despite being cynical and vehemently anti-religion, Jisung always said a quiet prayer to himself as he opened the door, hoping his parents weren’t home when he arrived. Today, it seemed like luck was on his side: his mother’s keys weren’t on the key rack, and his father had yet to return from some bullshit ‘business trip’ off in China. Perhaps it was Morocco or Norway; they all blurred together in a haze of indifference. All Jisung was sure of was the fact that his father had probably taken one of his mistresses away to some foreign country he was pretending to secure a business deal in.

“Everyone’s favourite fuck-up is home!” Jisung shouted in the empty vestibule, his voice echoing against the cold walls. He didn’t expect a response, so when he was greeted with a comfortable silence, he smiled to himself. He kicked his shoes off and unceremoniously tossed them into the corner by the key rack.

His heavy, heel-first footsteps echoed as he made his way towards the kitchen, pulling a bottle of wine out of a glass display cooler as he padded towards the main refrigerator. He pulled out a box of takeaway Indian curry from the night prior, setting both the box and the bottle on the marble kitchen island, shuffling his feet towards a drawer. He retrieved a fork and a wine key, tossing them onto the countertop as he pulled out his phone, pack of cigarettes, and his lighter.

Jisung opened the bottle of wine as he sat down on a stool next to the counter, tossing the cork towards the rubbish bin, shrugging as he missed. That was a problem for later, and he didn’t feel like dealing with it now. Completely ignoring the takeaway carton, Jisung grabbed the wine bottle, then took a long guzzle directly from it. He winced a bit as the flavour of fermented floral grapes perfumed his mouth with a sharp, sickly rotten scent. The bottle clattered loudly against the marble, the echoing reminding Jisung of just how alone he was in such a large house.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, bringing his phone up in front of his face, scrolling through one of his playlists until he found the right song. With a few taps, some Drake came through the kitchen speakers. Jisung turned up the volume to near max, his head subconsciously moving to the beat of “In My Feelings”. He took a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit it, the tip turning from paper and plant to a red, ashy ember as he inhaled.

Was he allowed to smoke in the house? Of course not.

Did Jisung give a shit? Absolutely not.

A text message popped up as Jisung aimlessly scrolled through his various notifications. He opened it, barely scanning through the entire message from his mother until his eyes stopped on a blue phone number. His eyes narrowed, poring over the entire message. “A coworker of mine offered to be a sponsor for you: Lee Minho. He’s a few years older than you, but he’s nice. Here’s his number, please reach out to him.”

Jisung sarcastically scoffed, locking his phone as he placed it back on the countertop, swapping it for the bottle of wine. He took a drag off of his cigarette, then took another long swig from the bottle. “We admit we’re powerless to alcohol,” he mutters the first step under his breath as he slams the bottle down on the counter.

“Maybe I don’t fucking care.”

Jisung woke up on the couch to the sound of heels clacking against the hardwood floor just before eight in the morning, his fingers jostling an empty bottle of scotch on the floor as he brought his hands to his face.

“Get cleaned up, please.” His mother’s voice was accompanied by bright spotlights suddenly shining directly on his face. “I’ve invited Minho over to meet with you.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Jisung’s voice was low and gravelly, groaning as he sat upright. The world spun, his body carried by the false inertia his mind had created.

His mother trotted off to the kitchen, shouting over her shoulder. “I know you didn’t. I did it because I care about you, Sungie.”

The blonde rubbed his clammy hands against his face again, attempting to wipe the sleepiness from his eyes. He grabbed his phone off of the floor, then wobbled his way upright, the living room spinning around him in a familiar sense of uneasiness.

“You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself,” he muttered under his breath.

Somehow, Jisung managed to make his way upstairs to his room, stripping an article of clothing off with each lazy step from his bedroom door towards his personal washroom. By the time he got to the glass enclosure of the shower, he was totally stripped bare. Jisung distantly stared at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, a gaunt and ashy doppelganger staring back at him with a pained, empty look on his face.

Instead of stepping into the shower, Jisung approached the mirror, subconsciously bringing his hands to touch his flushed face. His cheekbones were more prominent now than they were earlier in the year, dark circles painted in broad strokes under his eyes. His gaze trailed down the scars he had inflicted on his arms and on his thighs, reminders of the failed attempts to take his own life that he was now forced to carry with him, wearing each line and mark as a badge of shame.

A warm tear rolled down his face as it contorted into an expression of terror and hurt, before he took his fist and crashed it into the mirror in front of him, a spiderweb of the impact left behind in the cracked glass as he pulled his bloodied knuckles away. Some glass shattered to the floor, some still wedged in the gaps between his fingers, and Jisung stared at the crack that split his reflection into several fragments.

How he was still alive was beyond him.

“Mrs. Han, please,” a lilted, unfamiliar laugh travelled up the staircase as Jisung slowly made his way down towards the first floor. He squinted at the noise that caused his head to throb, realizing that someone unknown speaking to his mother, likely the Minho she had mentioned earlier. With each step he took towards the drawing room, the voice got louder, each staccatoed laugh more pronounced.

“Jisung, come sit,” his mother said, replacing the genuine smile on her face with a fake, ‘Vaseline-on-the-teeth’ smile. She motioned towards the empty space on the couch, opposite from the young brunette that turned around.

Jisung met his eyes and it suddenly felt like his surroundings cracked and shattered around him, like the mirror upstairs. Rich brown eyes glistened behind the black and gold browline glasses that rested against the bridge of his nose. Rose-tinted lips curled upwards in a shy smile, revealing large, rabbit-like front teeth that rested softly against his bottom lip.

“Hi,” the stranger said with a gentle wave, “I’m Minho. Resident biochemist at the pharmaceutical company your mother works for.”

As Jisung made his way over to the open spot on the couch, he squinted, refusing to break eye contact with the strange invader. It felt like he was a wild animal on display, about to be poked and prodded by zookeeper staff or by scientists in some sort of underground, off-the-books laboratory. It would fit, after all, since the man was some sort of scientist.

“I’ll let you be,” Jisung’s mother says, rising to her feet. “Maybe you should tell Minho about your little misstep last night, hmm?”

Jisung rolled his tongue over his bottom lip and shook his head sarcastically. “Go enjoy your overfilled glass of wine at nine-fucking-thirty, ma. I’ll be here spilling my guts to a stranger that gives more of a shit about me than you.” Minho winced and his expression fell from cheerful to shocked.

The men stared at each other, Jisung’s gaze layered with arrogance, and Minho’s heavy with awkward discomfort. “So,” the younger man kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, pulling a pack of cigarettes and his trusted lighter from his sweatshirt pocket, hoping to wrap up the conversation as soon as possible. “I know you work with my mother, you’re an alcoholic, and your name’s Minho.” As quickly as Jisung could take in a breath, the cigarette between his teeth was lit, and he was glaring at the intruder through the grey haze that came between them. Their eyes met again, Jisung growing more and more wary by the second. “Why should I pick you as my sponsor, when I feel like you’re just gonna snitch to my mother?”

Minho’s jaw looked like it was clenched too tight, his bottom eyelids squinted upwards as he studied the younger man in front of him. They watched each other, eyeing each micromovement the other’s face made. About halfway through Jisung’s cigarette, Minho finally broke the uncomfortable eye contact, and took a deep breath. “I’m not asking for you to trust me, or to spill your life story,” he shifted, sitting upright, “but for you to see me as a mentor when things get hard and you want to dampen your feelings with alcohol. I’ve been there, Jisung.”

Indignation washed over the younger man’s face, quickly replaced by a familiar wave of arrogance. Jisung shook his head, ashing his cigarette directly onto the floor. “Doubt it,” he tutted, licking his teeth as he nodded his head, staring at the ring on Minho’s finger. He smirked to himself, then turned his head away and up towards the ceiling. “Looks like you’ve got someone that loves you. I don’t know what that feels like; never have, never will.”

The elder chewed on his bottom lip, clenching his fist as his eyes subconsciously scanned the ring on his finger. “Had.”

“What?” Jisung turned his head back towards Minho with a look of disgust on his face, ashes falling from his cigarette.

The brunette sighed, leaning further into the couch, nervously running his thumb over his balled up fingers. “He’s the reason I turned to drinking, to fill the void he left in my heart when he died.”

Shit.

For the first time in ages, Jisung felt a slight pang of regret twinge in his abdomen.

Minho swallowed hard, almost as if he were holding back his emotions. “We were married for five years, together since high school. You’d think I would’ve known the signs, but Chan was so good at hiding things, hiding his pain from everyone.”

The ember in Jisung’s cigarette died out as he found himself enraptured in Minho’s story.

Chan was Minho’s high school sweetheart. They started dating their sophomore year of high school, both attended the same university, and they got married when they were twenty. To Minho, Chan was everything. They supported each other, making the other man stronger and gave them a reason to go on.

Minho had no idea that Chan was severely depressed, holding his true feelings to his heart. Not long after Minho’s twenty-fifth birthday, Chan disappeared, only leaving a journal behind. It had started off with an apology, that if Minho found his journal, that it was too late to save him and that Chan had simply given up. On nearly every page, Chan reiterated that it wasn’t Minho’s fault, that Chan was just too far gone beyond repair, that Minho had given him a new lease on life, but it wasn’t enough.

Exactly three weeks after Chan had gone missing, police were on the doorstep of their shared home.

“Dental records,” Minho whispered, his eyes distant and glazed over as he lost himself in the memory. “That’s how they knew it was Chan. I don’t remember much after that, but I thought that I could find the answer to why Chan took his own life at the bottom of a bottle.”

Jisung’s grip on the arm of the couch was so tight, his knuckles had turned white and they were starting to ache.

“Several bottles,” Minho continued, “several bottles and several near-death experiences waking up in the hospital later, and I still hadn’t figured out the answer. I figured that maybe I’d see him again if I drank enough. Now,” he folded his arms, tucking his chin into his chest, “I’ve accepted that I’ll never know the answer to that question, that I need to live on for him. If there’s an afterlife, maybe I’ll get to ask him myself. Until then, though,” Minho rolled his teary eyes up to meet Jisung’s uncomfortable gaze, “I just want to atone for not doing enough before. I want to help others that are hurting, you know?”

They continued to stare at each other for what felt like hours, until Jisung finally shook his head. His voice cracked as he tried to speak. “Sorry,” his apology was shockingly sincere, “I guess I spoke before I thought.”

Minho awkwardly smirked, dismissively waving his hand in between them. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted you to know that I’ve been at rock bottom and that there’s a way up and out, as long as you’re willing to put in the effort.”

Maybe Jisung was willing to give Minho a try.

At first, Jisung agreed to meet with Minho once a week after the mandatory AA meeting he attended. It took seven visits spanning seven weeks before Jisung eventually opened up about the neglect he faced from both of his parents, the emptiness he felt from being raised by nannies, feeling like money was more important than his own life.

Ten weeks in, they started hanging out on the weekends. Their relationship shifted from mentorship to friendship, and it was somewhat a relief that Jisung finally had someone he could trust enough to call his friend.

Week fourteen was when things started to shift further. Jisung hadn’t consumed alcohol in eight weeks, and things were clearing up, slowly but surely. He had been meeting with Felix more and more, too — maybe they weren’t quite friends yet, but Jisung was at least trying.

Things were looking up for the first time in Jisung’s life.

At week sixteen, Jisung stayed over at Minho’s apartment, convincing him that he needed to watch Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. The blonde had vehemently pressed that it was, quite possibly, one of the best series of all time, animated or otherwise. After some gentle pressure, Minho finally caved, and they sat on his couch, diving into the show and into some mediocre takeaways.

They had gotten through the first three episodes and Minho finally relented that, yes, it was a good show and that, yes, Jisung was right.

“I knew you’d like it, dude,” Jisung snickered, playfully poking at Minho’s chest. The corner of his lips tugged upward into a crooked smile, and he wore Minho’s seal of approval as some sort of badge of honour.

The brunette turned away, softly smiling into his shoulder as a rush of crimson started to tint his face. “You’ve got me trying all sorts of new things, Ji,” Minho rubbed the back of his neck for a moment before he flashed his teeth at the younger man. “So much for me being the mentor here, huh?”

Jisung sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth at the nickname, trying to ignore the warmth blossoming up his face. He tried to stumble out some sort of response, but he caught himself getting lost in the way that the overhead lights shimmered in Minho’s eyes, highlighting the soft amber and warm bursts of hazelnut that erupted around his pupils. His expression started to falter, and he felt a familiar rush of excitement bloom in his chest, causing his nerves to come to life all around his body.

He remembered that this was how it felt right before he shared his first drunken kiss with Changbin, but something about this felt different. Perhaps it was the fact that Jisung was completely sober, but he desperately wanted Minho to kiss him, to want him back. However, Jisung wasn’t sure if it would have been a good idea, pondering over if Minho was really ready to start a new relationship, especially with someone he was supposed to be mentoring.

“Something on your mind?” Minho’s voice was soft as it gently guided Jisung back to the moment. “You’re kinda spacing out on me.”

“No, no,” Jisung stumbled around the words he wasn’t sure he could say, suddenly distracted by the television in the background. “I guess I was just thinking about the show.”

Minho’s head tilted to the side, concurrently lifting his brow in confusion. “You guess?”

Jisung waved his hand in between them and readjusted his posture so he was further away from Minho. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve seen it so many times, but it’s one of those shows that you watch and you see something new each time and—”

Warm fingers were suddenly on the side of Jisung’s face, pulling him back into Minho’s space. “You’re a terrible liar.” The voice was soft, yet assertive; low, but so loud. Jisung’s eyes went wide as Minho’s apartment blurred around him, his vision suddenly taken over by the sight of the brunette’s face right up next to his. In front of him.

Before Jisung could process what was happening, he was subconsciously pressing his lips into Minho’s, trying to remember exactly how kissing worked. It was years since the last time he had any practice, but it all came back to him as Minho helped guide Jisung’s face with his hands.

Minho’s tongue was soft, warm, and damp as it gently pressed up against Jisung’s lips, wordlessly pleading for entrance. Without letting his mind mill over the fine details and concerns he possibly had, Jisung parted his lips. Timidly, he rolled his tongue around Minho’s, his hands quivering as his fingers scrambled for purchase in Minho’s hair.

Unlike anyone Jisung had kissed before, this felt right, even if there were some uncomfortable grinding of teeth and awkward nose bumping. Within a reasonable amount of time, they slowly became experts at training the way the other wanted to be kissed. As if Minho could read Jisung’s mind, he would interrupt his soft kisses with gentle nips and grazes at Jisung’s bottom lip.

“Please,” Jisung’s voice cracked as Minho pulled his teeth down his bottom lip, “my neck, I…”

Minho swiftly moved his lips from Jisung’s, peppering tiny pecks against his jawline to his ear, stopping to take the blonde’s earlobe into his mouth with his tongue, grazing the tender flesh between his teeth. Jisung’s back involuntarily arched as the grooves of Minho’s teeth pulled at his sensitive skin, the sensation causing his nerves to come to life with an electrical jolt from head to toe.

The brunette chuckled, his warm breath brushing up against the tiny hairs on Jisung’s ear. He said nothing, simply moving down to press a few soft kisses to the skin just below the younger man’s earlobe. Minho’s lips were soft, gentle, only to be quickly replaced by a sudden, harsh bite into the tender flesh.

A yelp, accompanied by uncontrollable twitching, came from Jisung, who was simultaneously melting into Minho, but also pulling away. The elder’s fingers dug into the blonde’s waist, keeping him in the same position, not allowing him to escape. Jisung’s yelp had faded into a whimper, which evolved into a moan as Minho sucked the flesh between his teeth, quickly repeating the process several times in various spots along Jisung’s neck.

The moans were increasing in volume and breathiness, Jisung subconsciously, frantically rutting his pelvis into the couch. Minho must have caught on to this, letting go of Jisung’s waist to ease him down onto the couch. He pressed his lips to Jisung’s again, dancing his fingertips down to the waistband of the younger man, who was completely blissed out.

“Can I help you with this?” Minho’s voice was somehow both soft yet assertive as his palm pressed against Jisung's clothed erection.

Words eluded Jisung, verbal language suddenly turning into complex algebraic equations that didn’t translate from his head to his tongue. Instead, he groaned in affirmation as he hopelessly rolled his hips upward, finding himself pitiful that he was so desperately craving for Minho to just keep fucking touching him.

Things started to blur in a haze of wanton desire. Minho’s hand gently stroked Jisung’s cock, paying special attention to the way that his fingers and palm brushed against the head. Involuntary twitches took over Jisung as he whimpered and mewled, his shoulder blades grinding into the couch. Minho continued to nibble and bite at Jisung’s neck, occasionally whispering words of assurance and praise into his ear.

“You’re doing so well,” as he slowly dragged his hand from the base of Jisung’s cock up to his head.

“I can’t imagine how incredible you would feel around me,” as he gently thumbed the slit, rubbing precum around the sensitive head and causing Jisung to bite the back of his hand as he failed to stifle a cracked moan.

Jisung’s breaths turned erratic and he was nearly convulsing as his body started to twitch. Minho shifted his weight to his knees, slowing his strokes just enough so that he could awkwardly shift one leg off of the couch to position his head in a way he could take Jisung into his mouth.

“What are you—” Jisung started to question, until he found himself losing control of his body as Minho rolled his tongue around his cock. “Fuck, Minho!” He clamped his eyes shut, arching his back upward, hitting the back of Minho’s throat as he convulsed, his orgasm suddenly completely taking over him. “Minho,” he whined and unclenched his fists; “Minho,” he panted and opened his eyes; “Minho.” With one last breath, he was back to reality.

This had to have been the closest thing to heaven that Jisung thought he would ever experience.

Jisung had stayed over at Minho’s that night, too tired to function like a normal human. They slept on the couch together, necks crooned in uncomfortable positions all night long, bodies stiff from the unnatural firmness that Minho’s couch held. The next morning, they chose not to discuss the night prior, but they did exchange some soft kisses, until Jisung protested, mentioning that their morning breath was distracting him from actually enjoying the kiss.

Their weekends continued on like this: spending time watching a couple of episodes of their chosen programme until they got distracted and lost within each other. Nothing progressed further than handjobs, the occasional blowjob, and the one time that they rolled around naked, making out for so long and so intensely that the way they pressed their bodies together caused Jisung to come without any additional stimulation — and, hey, they liked it.

The budding relationship between them was confusing. During the week, Minho acted like the appropriate, wise mentor, with Jisung as his eager pupil. When the weekend came around, however, all bets were off. In everything but title, they were boyfriends for all intents and purposes. Every time Jisung tried to bring it up, Minho would shut down, saying that he wasn’t ready to really think seriously about it yet.

So, Jisung didn’t press. He was sure that their intimate interactions were causing conflicting emotions to arise within Minho, emotions he probably had been ignoring since Chan’s death, trying to shove them down as time went on. Even though he wanted to navigate the full spectrum of sexual experiences with Minho, Jisung remained silent until Minho was ready.

#why can't we drink forever?#skz fics #skz smut #minsung #lee minho x han jisung #han jisung x lee minho #minho x jisung #jisung x minho #wherevermyway

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Hello. I love your blog and saw that requests were open. Can I ask for a Yandere Kuroo with an s/o whose deaf (no offense for deaf people tho) I just think it would be interesting on what goes on Kuroo's head if he ever got a darling who is like that. Thank you

As a rule, I try to make my Yanderes think as little as possible, but I’ll consider making an exception for Kuroo… albeit a small one. He’d just be so possessive, and he seems like the type that wouldn’t even try to justify his actions. Call it a character flaw, but I’d like to think it adds to his charm.

Title: Vulnerability.

TW: Themes of Ablism, Abuse of a Disability, Implied Violence, Mentions of Blood, Unhealthy Relationships, Non-Consensual Touching, and Implied Kidnapping.

If Kuroo was a little nicer, he’d probably be a better boyfriend.

Is he your boyfriend? Was he ever your boyfriend? That part was vague in the most amicable parts of your relationship, and it probably didn’t help that he’d never made the effort to straighten out the borders between platonic and romantic, the line he’d crossed from either side so many times, he’d lost count by the time you started holding it against him. He liked to think that deep down, you returned his feelings, even if he knew better than to think that the colors weren’t a little tinted, from your end, that the music wasn’t a little slower, that the game wasn’t a little duller. You had to have some level of fondness for him, in that closed-off, guarded little heart of yours, but he knew it couldn’t have been the same affection he held for you. The same love he held for you, even if you seemed to doubt his sincerity whenever he voiced his endearment.

Oh, fuck it. Who was he kidding?

He wasn’t even sure if he really loved you, anymore.

It probably didn’t help that your companionship (Companionship? Partnership? Association?) got off to such a rocky start. He’d like to think he was observant, especially when he was on the court, but you were just so new, just so unremarkable, and it wasn’t like you could expect him to memorize the face of every person who came in and out of the gym he visited daily. No, he had to wait for a wayward spike to draw your attention, one that was just a little too strong, a little too fast, and managed to nail you in the side of your head as you passed by. Volleyball was a hobby, at that point. He was passionate, but he couldn’t have gone up against Hinata or Bokuto, not well and certainly not elegantly. He wasn’t a professional, and yet, that didn’t stop your nose from making such an ugly cracking sound as the ball made contact, your knees buckling as you divided your attention between scrambling to grab the things you’d dropped and covering your face, neither to much avail. He’d called out, told you to get out of the way as soon as he realized his aim wasn’t quite what it used to be, but at the time, he’d just thought you were a little slow to react. Maybe a little slow in general, considering how long it took you to realize he’d come to help you.

That was the first time Kuroo saw you bleed, the first time he’d had the smallest degree of power over you. That’s not what he called it back then, but he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been a contributing factor, when he decided to stick around just long enough to get your number.

It made sense to get close to you, didn’t it? It wasn’t like he had a reason not to. You were studying at the same university as him, following similar tracks, and he’d already seen you fighting not to cry as you clung to a red-stained gym towel, so it wasn’t like you’d be able to scare him away. He liked you, liked seeking you out, liked touching your shoulder or letting his hand brush against your neck or slotting himself against your back to feel you go tense and watch you twist around so frantically, only to realize it was just your friend, just Kuroo, just a fun, harmless inside-joke the two of you shared and only he seemed to enjoy.

It took him longer than he’d like to admit to notice the signs - the hearing-aids, the way you squinted at his lips whenever he spoke too quickly, how you never seemed to answer your phone if you weren’t expecting a call. Partially deafness, you’d said, mostly in your right ear. Due to a childhood accident that’d broken something sensitive and irreparable. You’d said it calmly, casually, as if you didn’t really care. As if you didn’t mind having less of something than he did. As if you didn’t know you were falling short in an area he didn’t have to try to excel in.

As if it didn’t make you vulnerable.

As if it didn’t make you so, so defenseless, compared to him.

Just to be clear, that wasn’t the only thing he liked about you. No, the little hints were nice, they were beautiful, but he liked your smile, too, and your laugh, and he adored how trusting you were, your optimism bordering on naivety, at times. He liked that, even when he was open about his intentions, you were so quick to shrug off his stranger tendencies, to roll your eyes when he rested his hand a little too far up your thigh while studying, to sigh and shake your head as he wrapped an arm around your waist while introducing you to some of his friends, and to give up so easily after he voiced his reluctancy to let you go. You wanted to see the best in him. You wanted to see the best in everyone, even if you acted like you were just too important to care about his jeers and teases. He liked the way your heart speed up when he touched you, how you didn’t even seem to notice his closeness alone was enough to put you on edge. He liked a lot of things about you.

Somewhere down the line, though, he must’ve stepped a little too close to the cliffside. He must’ve finally crossed the one barrier you wouldn’t let him disregard, or left enough cracks in your protective shell for reality to start seeping in, or maybe, you just realized that friends shouldn’t enjoy scaring each other nearly as much as he enjoys scaring you, even if it hardly took a nudge to make you jolt and freeze-up. It was a natural progression, one Kuroo should’ve seen coming. If he kept pushing and pushing and pushing, he was bound to meet resistance. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised it didn’t come sooner, in hindsight.

He can still remember the first time you stood him up. The first time you left him standing outside of the campus library for hours before finally showing your face, just to say that you suddenly weren’t sure if spending so much time around him was a good idea. You were friendly if he approached you, but there was always the underlying tension, that wall of rigid posture and averted eyes that you always would’ve used when he was around, if you know what was good for you. No more study dates, no more early morning chats, no vulnerability, not once you realized why he was so eager to keep you backed into a corner. Not once you realized he might not be as harmless as you’d let yourself believe he was.

If he was nicer, he would’ve given you space. If he was nicer, he would’ve let it go. If he had any human decency at all, he would’ve walked away and never spoken to you again. That would’ve been the right thing to do. That would’ve been the good thing to do.

It’s a shame he isn’t a very good boyfriend, after all.

It’s clear to him that he should’ve been more proactive from the start. He let you get comfortable, let you adjust to his behavior, and he’s paying the price for it in time, in minutes of his life that felt like they were drawing into days, as they tick by. You’ve been crying since you woke up, sobbing your eyes out behind a soaked, sturdy blindfold, your hearing-aids torn out and your wrists secured behind your back, your ankles given the same treatment twice-over, just in case you found a way to run. There’s a more permant solution than the dirty warehouse you’re lying on the floor of - an apartment on the other side of town, one Kozume had been nice enough to sign onto with only a handful of questions and odd looks - but Kuroo needs to scare you before he can take you home. He needs to do something that won’t be fun for either of you, even if you’ll be the only one screaming.

Despite his better judgment, he’s resigned himself to waiting until you calm down, or until you stop crying, at least. Later on, you might see that for the kindness it is, the mercy he’s choosing to give you, but he doubts you’ll be that rational, right now.

‘Partially’ just won’t do the trick, anymore. You’re still too ungrateful. You’re still too full of yourself. You think you don’t need him, you think you’re better than him, and he’s going to prove you wrong.

He can only hope you won’t hate him when you’re completely his.

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tossawary · 4 years ago

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Chapter 25: “Home Sweet Home” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” quotes and commentary. Not a full list of favorite quotes or full commentary.

Anyway, Shang Qinghua makes himself so fucking sincerely annoying that the Huan Hua Palace Sect cultivators can’t figure out how to politely tell him to fuck off fast enough. Shang Qinghua makes outlandish assumptions about how many thieves there are (at least a dozen, he’s sure, probably twice that) and what methods they might be using (special invisibility talismans, he suspects); Shang Qinghua repeatedly apologizes for being too busy with important things for Cultivator O.B.B. at the last Immortal Alliance Conference, then tries to commiserate with the man about having to get important things done without getting any respect for it; Shang Qinghua also anxiously wonders if they should all go to Zhao Hua Temple Sect to report what happened here, since there’s a troublesome demon and also some sneaky rogue cultivator thieves on the loose out here! He gets turned down immediately, but assures everyone that he’ll at least let Yue Qingyuan know everything that happened here right away!

Liu Qingge pretty much just stands there scowling silently the entire time - he’s no Shen Qingqiu for sheer menacing "I can and I will ruin your entire life" glares, but he’s still pretty intimidating. He does a great job! No notes!

Shang Qinghua nearly pats himself on the back as he and Liu Qingge leave less than an hour after he arrives. “Holy shit, I’m good,” he thinks, a little giddy with the successful extraction. “That’s a skill that good ol’ Liu-Shidi will never have!”

AN: Of course this has a high chance of backfiring. Is Shang Qinghua going to weave webs of lies anyway? Of course.

Love the fact that Shang Qinghua can shamelessly act like a total pushover, while actually manipulating someone so that he gets the results he wanted. Some snobby sect leader walks into a negotiation room, prepared to use SQH as a doormat, and Shang Qinghua is probably internally like, “Bro, me and my jelly spine welcome you to hell.”

He gives them the rundown on what happened, but, to his complete lack of surprise, that doesn’t seem to satisfy interrogators like his little sister-in-law and his fellow transmigrator. They have so many questions! And Shang Qinghua doesn’t have enough answers for them!

No, he doesn’t know what Huan Hua Palace Sect knows or thinks they know. No, he doesn’t know how they knew about that place. No, he doesn’t know whether the monster was just a local opportunist preying on distracted cultivators or something more sinister. No, he’s not experimenting with the creepy special item or discussing it at length here. No, Luo Fanli and Peerless Cucumber are not allowed to poke at the creepy special item!

Why the fuck would he ever let them do that?!

All Shang Qinghua knows is that Luo Fanli and Peerless Cucumber should eat their vegetables and then go to bed! Because they all have a long journey back to the sect in the morning! And also that words cannot describe how painfully old he feels as soon as he says this.

AN: I’ve been thinking about a Demon Trio fanfic in which Mobei-Jun finds himself in a similar position with Luo Binghe and Sha Hualing.

Mobei-Jun and Shang Qinghua are, like, bare minimum twice the age of Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan. Like, yes, neither Mobei-Jun nor Shang Qinghua are old old by the standard of the PIDW world. Yes, MBJ and SQH are stunted as all get out. But the fact that they have bare minimum 2x the life experience as Bingqiu is, in my opinion, funny as hell and severely underused in fanfiction.

Like, imagine Mobei-Jun unintentionally dadding new demon LBH in SVSSS. Mobei-Jun being like, “Don’t eat the meat from this monster. It makes you hallucinate.” Or being like, “These people aren’t politically important enough to be shown this kind of respect. Look down on them properly and go sleep, or no one will ever respect you again in demon politics.”

MBJ looking at SVSSS LBH and SHL like, “Damn, who raised you?”

Because, like, I love to joke about Mobei-Jun being an oblivious fool, but that’s in regards to human culture. Mobei-Jun operating on demonic culture + his level of arrogance in regards to how he’s handling SQH suggests that MBJ can be politically savvy among demons when he wants to be. Also, the mental picture of MBJ being like, “Eat your weird demon vegetables, there’s nothing wrong with them, you picky half-breed brat,” is extremely funny.

I’ll probably turn this into a separate post.

Shang Qinghua does not miss the man’s unconcealed “oh, great, some of my favorite problem people are back, probably with bad news” expression when they arrive. The man is not at all impressed to hear about the drugged-up Shadow Cave Wolf Spiders or the evil, murderous, madness-inducing plant they fought on their mission, but the Qian Cao Peak Lord is reluctantly, partially placated by the jar of three-eyed skeleton tears Shang Qinghua super thoughtfully brought back for his inspection. Mu Qingfang really likes his research projects!

Shang Qinghua lets himself feel kind of good about this gift - he’s the man who gets things and gets things done - and ignores the Weeper’s Eye whispering in his head, “He has resigned himself to the untimely deaths of everyone he knows.”

(Wow. Oh, Shang Qinghua knows that feeling!)

AN: Mu Qingfang doesn’t think that everyone around him is inevitably going to die, he’s just extremely aware of how dangerous the world is and how reckless cultivators can be. Also, for many years, he was fairly certain that Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu were headed for bad ends.

This felt like a good place to insert some optimism back into the sect in general. Luo Fanli has been cured and is willingly going to visit her sister, Liu Qingge has got a hold on his self-destructive tendencies, Mu Qingfang thinks things are getting better, Shen Qingqiu’s health problems have been essentially fixed, Qijiu might actually work their shit out, Shen Yuan shares his real name with Shang Qinghua, and so on and so forth.

It felt like a good contrast with and buildup towards Luo Binghe’s Skinner mistake (not everything is rosy yet, there are still growing problems), the secret basement, and the encounter with Bing-Ge.

Only to flip that around and then bring some surprise Moshang into things!

“I have now been informed that, after learning that you had returned and, at the very least, completing the duties that were intended to have him reflect on his actions, he has disappeared yet again,” Shen Qingqiu continues. “This second disappearance has set some of the other junior disciples into a renewed panic, which has concerned some of the senior disciples, which was, apparently, cause to alert me.”

“Ah,” Shang Qinghua says.

AN: Shen Jiu should not be in charge of a bunch of children, but it is funny to imagine him going through the same “be a less shit person” adoption process as Shang Qinghua. Like, oh, it would be so easy for him to be cruel about this situation, but fuck you if he’s going to be outdone in the recovery and redemption process by Shang Qinghua of all people.

Shang Qinghua: *grows into a kind of decent person*

Shen Jiu: “Fuck you. That’s not allowed.”

Shen Jiu: “...”

Shen Jiu: “Well, if THAT FUCKER of all people can do it...”

Shang Qinghua doesn’t have to look long or far to find his nephew. He finds the young protagonist sitting despondently on the doorstep of his own Leisure House, sniffling into his sleeve. Peerless Cucumber of all people is sitting beside him and keeping him company.

“Focusing on other people’s lives is easier than looking at his own.”

“-think a drowning man first has to save himself… or else he’s only going to bring down the people he’s trying to save,” Peerless Cucumber is saying.

Binghe nods.

AN: Going by, like, the everything of SVSSS, Shen Yuan really is the asshole going, “I’ll die before I look inwards to recognize and deal with my own emotions.” Also, going, “Yes, I’m a hypocrite who won’t take my own advice. And what about it?” What a repressed nerd.

Shang Qinghua clears his throat to get their attention. Both kids (well, teenager and young adult, but still... kids) look up and then stand up quickly. Luo Binghe takes a forgetful step forward, before he wobbles into an appropriate respectful bow instead.

“Shang-Shishu!”

“How dearly this boy is loved!” the Weeper’s Eye declares, in its soft way inside Shang Qinghua’s head. “More than life itself! More than death itself!”

“Ah, never mind all that,” Shang Qinghua says, and steps forward to wrap his nephew in a quick hug instead, keeping the creepy talking eye oriented away from his nephew. “You’re a little too late to talk to me about your mission before your shizun did.”

Binghe, who was just relaxing into the unexpected hug, freezes.

Shang Qinghua knowingly pats the poor young protagonist on the back.

“Oh, shit” is right!

AN: Uncle Shang really is adorable. Still kind of knocks me for a loop writing it, though, given that the SVSSS SQH and LBH relationship is... nothing like this whatsoever. Look upon the field of SQH and LBH content and see that it is relatively barren except for the stubborn motherfuckers with excellent taste in character exploration.

“Ahhh, well, I’ll be there too for this potential family reunion, bro,” Shang Qinghua assures him. “Maybe we can finally get to the bottom of where this ‘Shen Yuan’ name came from.”

Peerless Cucumber makes a strange expression.

“What?”

“...It’s my name.”

“What?” Shang Qinghua repeats.

“It’s my name,” Peerless Cucumber says again, quietly. “It’s my real name.”

“Oh.”

“Huh,” Shang Qinghua thinks, having been operating on the assumption that the System made the name up for its mysterious backstory. Well, that gives new dimensions to Peerless Cucumber’s criticism of the scum villain!

“You can use it,” Peerless Cucumber says, with an air of determined nonchalance. “Everyone else is doing it.”

“Ah, alright. Thanks.”

AN: This is probably the part where I would have made Shang Qinghua reveal his original name in turn... IF HE HAD ONE. It drives me... kind of wild that we get the Airplane Extras and we STILL don’t get 1) Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky’s original name, and 2) MOBEI-JUN’s name.

Which actually makes things a little more interesting here, in my opinion, even though not having those names gets a little frustrating in terms of fanfiction writing. With Mobei-Jun, you get to explore the fucked up possibilities of him not having a name outside of his identity as the future Northern King. With Shang Qinghua, you get to explore him being a squirrelly little fuck who refuses to let anyone into his life.

So, because we don’t have Airplane’s name, we actually get this mildly interesting dynamic in which Shang Qinghua doesn’t even really think to reveal it to Shen Yuan. We don’t see this part, but Shen Yuan is actually a little miffed by this degree of secrecy, which is going to come up later. (Shen Yuan doesn’t like the fact that Shang Qinghua has as much power over him as he does.)

I personally do not hold the headcanon that Airplane’s name was “Shang Qinghua”. It’s a little too on the nose for me. At that point, the only reaction to transmigrating into SQH kind of has to be, “Ah, well, I was asking for that!” Maybe Airplane projected his worst qualities onto Shang Qinghua, but I don’t think he went so far as to give the character his own name.

Airplane’s main identity when he died appears to have been Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky, and we know that he wasn’t particularly close to his divorced parents and any step- or half-siblings. So, the only names that are really relevant post-transmigration are “Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky” and “Shang Qinghua”. By the time that SY gets here, he’s firmly entrenched in those identities, and his original name is completely irrelevant. I could honestly believe that Airplane just doesn’t think it matters anymore.

Shang Qinghua’s nephew, in the way of a true young protagonist or fucking cannon fodder, got the bright fucking idea to slip away to speak with the concubine called Butterfly privately.

“I thought: what if she didn’t want to speak in front of that lecherous old man? What if she wanted to get away from him?” Binghe confesses.

“She was the demon,” Shang Qinghua guesses.

Binghe nods, voice breaking. “It was… I was really, really stupid, Uncle.”

“Well, at least you know that,” Shang Qinghua sighs, and pats his sniffly nephew on the back again.

Oh, he can see why Shen Qingqiu was pissed the fuck off now. Shang Qinghua kind of wants to start yelling! Or maybe just screaming, coherently or otherwise!

Except yelling isn’t going to help much right now.

Shang Qinghua listens as Luo Binghe recounts being captured by the demon and then waking up bound by Immortal Binding Cables - of being so terrified that he could barely breathe with it. His only hope was Ning Yingying and Ming Fan tattling on his disappearance and a senior disciple tracking him down on time. The skinner demon apparently nearly killed Binghe, crooning over his young and beautiful skin, except a flash of warm light intervened and dropped an unstable part of the ceiling in on them before they could hurt the captured protagonist.

“Fu-Shijie and Shizun arrived after that and k-killed it,” Binghe says. “Uncle, it was all stupid luck! Shizun said I should have been dead and that, between my efforts and the demon’s, he had no idea how I wasn't! And he was right! It was so close! If the ceiling hadn’t fallen in like that-! Fu-Shijie suggested the ropes might be faulty and it could have been an unconscious use of spiritual energy, but I didn’t do anything! It wasn’t me!”

It sounds like the System to Shang Qinghua, intervening again at a crucial moment to prevent the premature death of the protagonist. Just thinking about how close his nephew came to dying without him knowing is nearly enough to inspire a cold sweat! Shang Qinghua can’t speak about the System, so all he can really do is keep hugging! Keep holding on for dear life and saying soothing nothings to his crying nephew!

AN: I wanted to include the Skinner mission, but I didn’t want to redo it onscreen because that’s been done in many fanfictions before and I felt that there was really no good reason for Shang Qinghua to be a part of it. The reason I wanted to include it is to show how the plot is off the track of the SVSSS (and PIDW) stories, with the changed LBH and the changed Original SQQ.

LBH wants to be a hero, but he’s not there yet.

“...Don’t put yourself above him… or below him. Tell him what you want and listen to what he wants, and don’t be surprised if things don’t change all at once,” Shang Qinghua advises and, at Yue Qingyuan’s look, quickly raises his hands. “Ahhh, not my business, I know! Not my business! I just… I hope it works out! I hope you two get something better out of this mess! Aha, make the sect meetings a little less awkward and… things.”

“He has never known what better looks like. He will always be Yue Qi, the slave boy. No matter what he does.”

“...Thank you,” Yue Qingyuan says finally, thoughtfully. “I appreciate your… restraint in this matter… in recent months.”

Aha, yikes.

AN: I know that some people wanted more stomping on Yue Qingyuan, but... like... this man is as or nearly as traumatized as Shen Qingqiu. His childhood fucking sucked. He broke his own soul trying to save Shen Jiu and failed. He made some shit decisions where Shen Qingqiu was concerned, but the logic and trauma he’s operating on are pretty obvious. He was trying.

Part of the theme around the Qijiu and Moshang arcs has also been “an eye for an eye”. Like, are you guys really going to keep on not communicating with each other and then fucking up and then taking chunks out of each other? How many misunderstandings and upset over misunderstandings are you going to throw at each other? Where do you put your foot down and say, “I don’t want to live like this forever. We can be better than this. I want better than this.”

Like, it can’t just be hurting each other back and forth (this applies to Qijiu more than Moshang, in which MBJ definitely carries the weight of this fuck-up). It can’t just be privately nursing hurt feelings forever. The options here are “fix it” or “live like this forever”. Fixing it won’t happen immediately, but the other option fucking sucks, so every little step helps.

So Shang Qinghua here is just like, “Bro, I’m tired. My anger has cooled a lot. I just want all our lives to suck less. I hope things work out for you.”

#tossawary svsss #tossawary commentary #pride is not the word

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nyxdelanuit · 5 years ago

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Joy is Yellow (Kaminari x Reader)

Hey guys! This is for the BNHarem collab. The theme this time was Flowers c:

Here’s the link to the rest of the collab! Please look here to find more of your favorite BNHA characters written by some awesome writers!

It wasn’t often that Kaminari was disappointed with becoming a hero, but watching you wander around the farmer’s market in the mid-morning sun, he regretted not being able to do this everyday. You walked arm-in-arm with his friends, unaware of his pining. He wanted to tell you, so badly he wanted to tell you… but if there was one thing Kaminari had learned about himself since graduating UA, it was that as soon as he caught feelings, the words stopped coming out of his mouth right. He couldn’t risk messing everything up. Not with you.

Sero hung off of one arm, Mina on the other. Your bag hung precariously off of your shoulder, threatening to tear Mina’s arm from you as it fell. Yet you didn’t mind, you simply forged forward, smile wide on your face. Kaminari let you pull his friends forward, hanging back to hear your laugh filter through the crowds. His eyes watched your back as you ran around, looking through local honeys, fresh vegetables, and the occasional booth of art and hair pins. The crowd grew larger as the morning went on, obscuring you from his vision when you ducked into tents and booths, but he still took in the crisp air with joy in his heart. Kaminari thought he might finally understand what people meant when they mentioned ‘simple pleasures.’

He had to resist the urge to sprint to your side as your squeal pierced the calm air. The sight of you, unharmed, calmed him somewhat but didn’t ease his pounding heart. Face flushed, eyes wide in joy, and utterly angelic as you took in the wide selection of flowers in front of you.

“Mina, look!” You held a slip of paper out to her, hands trembling in excitement. “I never knew flowers had meanings. Look, this one has almost a whole page!” You were threatening to turn Kaminari’s insides to mush, watching you flitter from flower to flower like a hummingbird, barely stopping to skim over the slip of paper in front of each flower. Kaminari may not be able to get the right words out of his mouth, but maybe….

Daffodils: Inspiration. You inspire me to push myself every day. I want to be someone worthy of your beauty- inside and out.

The note sat nestled inside a modest bouquet of buttery yellow daffodils, still dewy from the chill morning. Your fingers ran over the note, trying to recall the handwriting. It was at least someone who knew where you lived- in a gated apartment for recently graduated students of UA- and someone who knew of your new obsession with the language of flowers. With gentle hands, you scooped up the flowers from your stoop, placing them in a vase you had purchased at the market the day before. It was true what they said, flowers really brightened up a room. Or maybe that was the feeling that sat airily in your chest.

You usually ran into one or two former classmates while wandering around your apartment complex, but Kaminari was becoming a more regular face. It wasn’t unwelcome, you enjoyed every moment spent with the ditsy blonde. You did wonder if he played up his dumb blonde shtick for laughs, but he was always genuine with you. As you wandered through the gates after your shift, it was no surprise that he was the first person you saw.

“Hey! Have you eaten yet?” He called out, a grin plastered on his face. You couldn’t help but think he’d been waiting for you, as self-absorbed as that made you feel. He was still staring at you, the grin faltering before you realized you hadn’t answered.

“Oh, not yet. I was hoping to get out of these gross clothes first.” He nodded sagely before breaking out in another grin.

“Let me pick up some food for us while you change then. And no saying no! I want to have a picnic, and no one else will have one with me!” Kaminari tried his best to give you the most pathetic puppy eyes that he could muster, a smile breaking through as you giggled at his antics.

“Fine, ‘Minari. I’ll meet you out here in twenty?” You were surprised he hadn’t concussed himself with how hard he nodded before sprinting off with a wave. Surely he must have whiplash at least?

If it wasn’t Kaminari Denki, the class flirt, you would almost think the picnic laid out before you was… romantic. He had surely put a lot of energy into it, making sure that the blanket had shade, but wasn’t hidden under the tree, a wonderful view of the late afternoon sky, and most of all, quiet. Not many people ventured to this part of the complex, preferring to stick to the well-worn paths and their own spaces. Your favorite guilty-pleasure dinner was laid out like it was homemade, a bottle of sparkling juice on ice nearby. Kaminari must have been serious about wanting a picnic.

The picnic flew by in a flurry of laughs, leaving you both red-faced and out of breath. He had tried, really, to keep himself serious. There were many questions about how your life was like now that you were outside of school, if you liked your job, and any problems you had been facing. He tried so hard. And then he misjudged the toss of a snack, hitting himself in the eye instead of dropping it into his mouth like he intended. You appreciated his efforts, but you appreciated the unadulterated Kaminari more.

You weren’t sure how it devolved into a pseudo food fight, the two of you desperately trying to win points by throwing food into each other’s mouths. It was funny, and, sweet, and utterly juvenile. After spending so much time trying to grow up quickly to match the world you were thrust into, it was such a welcome reprieve.

He insisted on walking you to your door that night.

“No self-respecting hero would let someone walk home alone. Especially if home is only a few doors down from mine.” The grin on his face as he left you at your door felt a little more genuine that night.

Marigolds: Affection, making a connection. To let you know you’re on my mind. Seriously, you’re on my mind, always.

The marigolds on your doorstep weren’t quite as fresh as the daffodils you had received a few days before, but they still held their pungent smell. You were never a big fan of the smell, but you couldn’t help smiling as you remembered the meme fights Sero and Kaminari used to get into in high school.

“They’re marigolds!” Sero shouted at the top of his lungs.

“My god, I think she’s right, they are marigolds!” Kaminari yelled, overly scandalized.

“I may not know my flowers, but I know a b-” They started together, stopping only when an irate Aizawa turned the corner.

The memory alone would have been enough for you to place them among your daffodils, still standing strong with the flower food you had found squirreled away in your cupboards. The sentiment scrawled on the note only made you want to keep them more. Hopefully the daffodils would cut the scent somewhat.

You hadn’t seen Kaminari since the picnic, besides glimpses here and there as one of you left for work. He had looked so tired lately. You knew that he had Sero, Kirishima, and Bakugou looking out for him, but even then, they were busy too. You were less so, by choice. It was too much to jump into right away, and you were always one to adjust to the waters before you dove. It was time to repay him for the picnic.

The knock at the door surprised Kaminari, he was already setting his alarm to run down to the flower shop before you woke up. Then he could get another bunch of flowers, leave them on your doorstep before you left for work, and get a nap in before his shift. He had tried to ignore the dark circles spreading underneath his eyes and the yawns that plagued him. You were worth a little inconvenience.

So when he saw you on the other side of the door, he thought his heart might stop. There you stood in all your glory, looking like you were plucked straight from some painting he ignored during his middle school museum field trips. He knew better now, if he could find your beauty in the paintings, he would stare for hours.

You cleared your throat, pulling him from his drowsy daydreaming. “Can I come in ‘Minari? You’ve been looking a little beat up lately, so I made you some dinner.” He felt awful as he watched you shuffle the carefully stacked containers of food in your arms. Quickly, he went to grab some of them from you, easing your load and motioning you into his house.

How could you do that? Just a few minutes and a simple dinner, something even he could have made, and he suddenly felt like he could run a few laps. No more yawns, they had been long replaced by full body laughs as he watched you utterly fail at the most recent fighting game he had bought. He couldn’t be bothered to play with you, the food in front of him was too tempting. Kaminari couldn’t remember the last time he had made himself food. You must have been an angel sent just for him.

Sunflowers: Joy, optimism, positive energy. Tell me your secrets, please. How do you light up every room you enter? You chase away all the tiredness in my body. It’s like you’re an energy drink for my soul.

You wondered how you were going to fit such large stems into your vase. It seems like your mysterious suitor had thought of that too, buying only a few smaller flowers. It was starting to look like a proper arrangement, although you wondered why it was all yellow. Surely there were flowers in other colors to convey what he wanted? No matter, the sunflowers in front of you definitely cut through the empty space, filling up your room with enough color to rival the sun.

There was a big assignment that a few of the people in your apartment had been appointed to. Kaminari was included, and you barely caught sight of him anymore. Sero had also been called, but you saw him sneaking into Mina’s apartment with the morning’s light. At least you were assured that one of your friends were being properly cared for.

You couldn’t help yourself, you started leaving containers of food at his door, little notes, and a few healthy drinks to combat the sugary energy drinks he preferred. Your dishes were always returned clean by the next day, and it made you feel like you were doing something more than sitting on your ass working part-time while he was out there giving his all. The night that signaled the end of the assignment, you found your dishes outside per usual, with a note.

Thanks Sunshine.

-Denki

The beating of your heart could be heard in your ears. You were so flustered you didn’t notice how the note matched the others you left on the counter.

Pansy: Loving.

This note confused you. Just a single word as explanation and a bundle of gentle yellow pansies with bleeding black centers. Still, you placed the gentle stems in the vase. You were sure to place them where they wouldn’t be crushed by the more boisterous flowers. The petals were so delicate beneath your fingers, you were afraid they’d wilt at the slightest touch.

You’d be sad after these flowers wilted. It was such a fun experience to open your door every morning and search for flowers on your stoop. Even if they weren’t there every day, it only made the days you found them more exciting. You hadn’t really stopped to consider who had been leaving such sweet presents, but you knew who you hoped it was. Maybe you were just reading too much into it, with all the yellows consuming your thoughts.

You knew that Kaminari had the day off, time to recover from the grueling days of work behind him. Even so, you couldn’t resist making more food than you needed. You missed him, even though it had only been a handful of days. With swift steps and an even swifter knock, you were finally in front of him.

He looked awful, there was no nice way of putting it. His hair was unruly in an unintentional way, dark circles and even darker bruises littering his body. But he seemed to light up at your presence. It was a sight to see as the fatigue lifted from his face, his body less weighed down by his slouching shoulders.

Kaminari ate beside you on the couch, a scene that was becoming familiar to you. It was comfortable here, just the endless chatter of the television to end the silence of the growing night. You stayed long after food was finished and the dishes were washed- Kaminari insisted it was the least he could do. Even longer after, when Kaminari’s head fell heavily to your shoulder. Whatever energy you gave him must have reached his limit. It took some time to maneuver him to his bed, all dead weight, but you slid him under his sheets eventually. With a brush to his hair- simply to get it out of his eyes, you tried to convince yourself- you left as quiet as you came.

There was no flower when you opened your door that morning. It was a little disappointing, they seemed to have come after particularly nice nights with Kaminari before. You let yourself get caught up in your head with every thing you had done since the last bouquet, chewing on your lip as scenarios ran through your thoughts.

A knock came at the door before you were able to chew your lip raw. A quick glance to a mirror and a quick straightening of your clothes made you presentable. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous to answer the door. It was just a neighbor, probably one that has seen you in states much worse than when you first woke up…

It was a pleasant surprise to see Kaminari standing before you. He fussed with something in his grasp before he realized you opened the door. He thrust his fist toward you, a single daisy in his clutch. The poor stem had almost been worried through, leaning at an awkward angle. You accepted it with cautious hands, supporting the tired flower.

“So, Denki, what does this one mean?” You smiled at him coyly, enjoying the way he could barely meet your eyes.

“T-true…” His voice was barely a squeak escaping his throat. You took mercy on him, grasping his hand with your free one. Kaminari’s eyes finally flew to yours, questioning.

“Breathe, ‘Minari.” You smiled, coaching him through a breath, and then two. His eyes were clearer when they met yours again. He let a grin sneak onto his face, bringing him a bit more confidence.

“Daisies mean t-true love… and soulmates.”

After many shared smiles and messy kisses, you led him into your apartment, his hand still clutched in yours.

And many years after, you would still get compliments on your bright yellow daisy pendant, encased in resin and lasting as long as his love for you.

#kaminari x reader #denki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #nyx writes #bnharem collab #kaminari denki x reader

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the-resurrection-3d · 3 years ago

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@bittersweet-optimism, I decided to copy-paste your ask under the cut so I can respond to it section-by-section -- and, hilariously enough, I got your other ask right as I was wrapping up this response, so congrats on the timing! I’m still feeling pretty tired and there’s a lot to cover, so these answers aren’t as in-depth as I would normally go, but I hope they clear up some things!

OKAY so I am still slightly struggling to form a single complex thought that’s anything but “oh okay I guess that’s happening now” so I might come back to this in the morning when I’m less tired. Also I’ve never had a hot take on something in my life so uh

So, the first thing that comes to mind is that that body horror truly was Something and I am Vaguely Confused. And daddy long dick is the correct interpretation of Luca’s character.

Yeah, I wrote that more as a vent piece when I was honestly kinda spiraling, so don’t worry to much about it—the body horror stuff is not “canon,” though everything about Nick teaching Alberto how to play tennis certainly is. Also thank you, lol.

So first actual thought: the whole thing with Nick’s… fixation on Alberto’s claws. Like. Huh. There were a lot of times where using them for Violence in bed was implied. And directly referenced. Which. Doesn’t necessarily confuse me, but it did surprise me. Didn’t really expect Nick to like being the one in pain. And Alberto always seemed so hesitant, too. Was Nick making him do that?

Yeah, Nick’s whole pain kink comes out very rarely – and yes, Nick is making him do it.

Also! The fact that it is unclear when nick is doing something out of genuine affection or to try and guilt trip Alberto into staying with him and doing what he wants. Gross.

Lol, true! Sometimes I forget that y’all’s perspective on Nick is different than mine insofar as I know when he’s being genuine, but obviously you guys don’t. Honestly, half the time Alberto can’t really get a good read on Nick, either.

Alright, now we’re moving onto the big one.

I may understand both timelines, but I do not Understand both timelines. In other words, the logistics and actual order of events has been lost on me (although I would probably be able to clear some of that up if I went and reread some of your more recent actual published works but I am Too Tired). Like. Did anything happen in between the end of the movie and Nick,

Not really, beyond what “Ciao Alberto” already touched on—i.e., Alberto is trying very hard to fit into this new life, but there’s a lot of stuff he just doesn’t really know how to do. So he’s struggling to really make any new friends and, even though his relationship with Massimo is getting better, it doesn’t undo all The Trauma.

Honestly the way “Ciao Alberto” just reinforced how Alberto is totally the type of kid to get groomed. But we can talk about that later.

when/how did Alberto and Nick meet,

I’m thinking that Nick comes around in the Spring after the movie’s end, because he’s taking a gap year off school (though why exactly he’s doing that will be better explained in the Berlin fic). Because Ercole’s dad and Nick’s uncle are kinda old friends/in the same business area, Ercole and Nick have met before, and so Nick hangs out a bit with Ercole just kinda to have someone around while he gets his bearings in Portorosso again (he hasn’t been there since, like, the start of high school). Nick’s first encounter with Alberto would be him breaking up a fight between Alberto and Ercole, but his first real meeting with Alberto is when he asks Massimo for help supplying the fish for his upcoming birthday party. Nick invites Alberto to drive with him over to the venue since it’s too far away to reasonable bike with all that cargo.

I know I’m hedging my words more than usual, but that’s because I know myself well enough to also know that writing this all out as a story would probably force me to change my mind another 50 million times. Another reason I’m glad I’m not writing out the full Grooming Fic TM, lol. To be completely honest, I don’t have any real Nickberto Backstory Content planned beyond the Berlin fic. I dunno. Obviously things can change but. you know.

was it immediately a sexual/romantic thing or did that take a minute,

Nick takes a little bit just to kinda observe Alberto and weigh his options, but yeah, he makes his actual intentions clear pretty early on.

how long were they together before nick left,

Most of a year </3

was there a moment when Alberto realized how not okay he was treated or was he always aware that this was unhealthy,

In my mind, Alberto always knew this wasn’t “right,” but there are a lot of reasons he still stays—such as how Nick is incredibly sweet and patient in the beginning, even if he still does stuff that make sirens go off in Alberto’s head, or how Alberto doesn’t really have friends his own age to reach out to—especially not ones who “get” his issues the way Nick does.

when you referred to “Nick Ruining Everything” do you mean just the entire time Alberto and Nick had any sort of relationship or was there a specific incident,

It’s a specific incident that really throws a wrench into Alberto and Luca’s blossoming relationship. The Berlin fic will touch on it more but. Yeah. It’s bad.

when did Alberto get together with Luca, etc etc.

In my mind, reg.! Alberto is obviously already in love with Luca by the time Nick rolls around, but he doesn’t really hook up with him until after Nick is gone.

I feel mostly the same slight confusion about modern timeline like, what’s the backstory for how Alberto got adopted by Massimo,

Massimo found him after Alberto got tangled up in a fishing net and almost got killed by hunters :P

how long between that and Nick,

Roughly the same amount of time as in Reg. Timeline, so let’s say about half a year.

how did Alberto and Nick meet, how does the timeline being modern affect their relationship while they are still in it,

A lot of things about Nick’s year in Portorosso are the same, with the exception being a) that Alberto is going to a regular high school while Giulia still goes away to Genova (as per Massimo’s custody agreement with her mother), and b) Massimo has encouraged him to keep being a sea monster a secret. (Of course Nick eventually finds out, but he’s really the only other person who knows.)

The fact that Alberto is actually in high school makes it more realistic in all the worst ways, such as how Nick helps him with homework and coaches him so he can get on the tennis team. As the body horror fic kinda touched on, Nick was the captain of his fancy private school’s varsity tennis team, so coaching Alberto is very exciting for him. I hate it.

were they officially broken up during bandingo or what,

you cant be officially broken up if you were never really dating! :’) Technically yes they were on one of their “off” seasons, but Nick refuses to actually let Alberto call them boyfriends, always keeping this relationship in this weird undefined zone that makes Alberto just feel more insecure. yes I'm your first love yes I’m your daddy yes I'm the only person you're allowed to rely on or fuck or even look at but no I'm not your boyfriend, get real. God I hate him.

how/when did Alberto and Luca find out about each other being sea monsters, yada yada.

Godddd I need to write this outttt. Right now I’m thinking their third or fourth date, but I do definitely want to write out how they find out because it’s very sweet <3 And that’s all I’ll say about it right now.

And now thinking about bandingo has me thinking about Giulia and now I’m thinking about how while I kinda know what her deal is in modern timeline, I don’t think you’ve said anything on her place in regular timeline. What does she think. Does she know Nick exists.

Not really, at least not until Nick’s gone – and obviously it upsets her because she can tell it hurt Alberto deeply, but she’s doesn’t really know how to approach Alberto and comfort him, so she kind of shoves it onto Luca. She WANTS to help, certainly, but her and Alberto really haven’t had time yet to get to know each other without Luca there as a mediating factor.

This bit is a me thing and is therefore difficult to explain to someone that isn’t me but. You know that first piece that you put out on here? I’ve read it a few times (I said that I read the entirety of the nick tag but it would be more accurate to say that I reread most of it and got caught up on what I haven’t) but this time it completely broke my brain. Like. If i see horny or otherwise adult content, I will assume that the characters involved are adults. Like. logically I knew that I was reading a 20 yo grooming and abusing a 15 yo because you specifically reminded us but it never clicked until now and now those little jabs about being an adult feel like actual physical punches to my gut (specifically the 3/4 an adult one. That’s LITERAL, not just him being teasing. I know that’s the point and it’s my own fault it kept going over my head but Oh My Fucking God. Jesus Christ. 3/4 of 18 is 13.5 and What The Fuck. Oh my god.)

God, I was so fucking angry the day I wrote that, to the point where it was genuinely hard to even sit still. It’s not really my place to say what actually happened, but – yeah, I think you can feel some of that energy in the piece itself. Even when I’m writing now, there’ll be little things that highlight the age gap (even in the Berlin fic when Alberto is 18), and I’m just like Jeeeesus H. Christ, Nick.

Kind of off-topic, but something I kinda funny about Nickberto is how, in comparison to a lot of other age-gap relationships in media, their age difference isn’t actually that bad. 5 years between adults is really nothing, especially when Oliver and Elio from CMBYN have a 7-year gap, and Brian and Justin from Queer as Folk have fucking twelve. (I think my own parents have nine years between them, though they didn’t meet until they were both already out of college.)

But Elio and Justin are both 17 when the relationships start, old enough to either be technically legal in their home state or for people to try and justify it by playing the “well he’s almost 18”/”he’s mature for his age” cards. Alberto’s too young for all that—even in my state, where the age of consent (between minors!) is 16, Nick is still too old to be covered by our Romeo and Juliet clause. Obviously I’ve heard the whole “aoc in Italy Is 16” thing before, back during the heyday of Call Me By Your Discourse, but TBH I have not fact-checked that and I don’t care to.

Also also, it was mildly funny to see my own asks that I’d lost track of because I’d been too much of a coward to go off anon again. Like yeah. That dumb ask about a nick death loop wad a good one. Good job, me.

I liked that one too c: As for your comment about Alberto playing tennis, Nick’s influence aside, I think he would really like it! He needs a good outlet for all his energy.

I hope that cleared some things up! thanks for the asks <3

#nick tag #2d asks

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tigerkirby215 · 4 years ago

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5e Zac, the Secret Weapon build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Christian Fell. Made for Riot Games.)

No one:

Literally no one:

@tigerkirby215: “HEY FUCKERS WHO WANTS A ZAC BUILD?!”

Full disclosure: I watched Dorans and Dragon’s video for Zac and while it’s really well done (like really well done. I honestly suggest you watch it) I felt like it took a bit of an interesting direction. Ds&D and I have always had different ideas for our builds and I think with the release of Tasha’s there’s actually a lot of interesting new directions to take Zac in.

Also spoiler alert but this build is the most jank-ass fucking shit I have ever made but it strangely works really well? Like I literally sat on this build for two months debating if I should even post it. Also Zac’s a grappler, because of course he is.

GOALS

There's plenty of me to go around - Zac stretches and bounces and changes his shape more-or-less at will.

Why thanks; I do work out - Zac is one of those “hold you down for 10 seconds total in a teamfight” types of junglers.

I'm not as squishy as I look - Of course to be a big bundle of green goo we’ll need to be big. Like, really big.

RACE

END ME I’M MAKING A BUGBEAR! :D

Okay to be fair Bugbear hate is kinda overblown, especially by yours truly. You get +2 to Strength and a +1 to Dexterity as well as Darkvision and several other useful traits: you have a Powerful Build to carry more stuff, for one. You are also Sneaky and get proficiency with Stealth, which is nice because if you launch a Surprise Attack you can do an extra 2d6 damage.

But of course the main trait of a Bugbear is their Long-Limbed bodies. All your melee attacks have a 5 foot longer range, which is obviously important to make Stretching Strikes!

Custom Lineage: If you’re insistent on making a custom “goo creature” race with Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything rules here are my suggestions: make yourself Medium (yeah duh) and give yourself proficiency with the Athletics skill. Increase your Strength by 2 and take the Skilled Expert feat for Expertise in Athletics along with a +1 in Wisdom. You will have an uneven DEX score but I dunno just go for Athlete or something later in this build.

ABILITY SCORES

15; WISDOM - Braum isn’t the only champion who believes the heart is the strongest muscle, as if you’d read Zac’s lore he is actually quite a compassionate soul. Also we need Wisdom for our main ability.

14; CONSTITUTION - Zac is a tanky boy, so up the tankiness!

13; DEXTERITY - When you can stretch and squeeze like silly putty dexterity comes naturally. We need that dexterity to jump over walls, among other things.

12; STRENGTH - A lot of it is elastic strength, but if you’re going to throw Cho’gath into Shyvana you do also need upper body strength.

10; CHARISMA - He’s a nice guy when you get to know him, but Zac’s also a bunch of Zaun sewer goo.

8; INTELLIGENCE - Living in the sewers and then later being raised as a weapon means you don’t know any math, science, or history.

BACKGROUND

Zac did grow up in the streets, but the skills from the Urchin background don’t fit him well so we’ll be modifying it heavily. Take proficiency in Acrobatics to squash and stretch as well as Perception to keep those wards up. You can pick your choice of languages or tools because Zac kinda... doesn’t do much other than fight? I mean he’s literally called “the Secret Weapon” what do you want from me?

But your background feature of City Secrets is very useful for traveling the streets of Zaun, letting you find your way around alleys and jungle gank paths to travel through the city twice as fast as the average person! "Put some spring in your step."

(Artist unknown. Made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - MONK 1

Been awhile since we’ve visited the good ol’ Monk class eh? Well you can grab Athletics finally, as well as Insight to know if someone’s worth clobbering. You also get proficiency with an artisan’s tool or musical instrument, and I mean... Zac still doesn’t have much lore.

But how about some class features? Monks get Unarmored Defense equal to their Wisdom plus their Dexterity, for 14 AC total. Would medium armor be better? Yes, but you can’t wear armor if you want to use Martial Arts! Martial Arts gives you a variety of benefits: you can punch with DEX or STR, your punches are now a d4 (and will scale as you get levels), and if you punch with your Action you can punch with a Bonus Action after the fact!

LEVEL 2 - MONK 2

Second level Monks get Ki points to use for a variety of features: Flurry of Blows lets you attack twice with your Bonus Action instead of once, Patient Defense lets you dodge as a Bonus Action, and Step of the Wind lets you Dash or Disengage as a Bonus Action. An important thing to mention about Step of the Wind is that it doubles your jump distance, for those big Elastic Slingshot jumps!

You can also put on some boots and get some Unarmored Movement. 10 more feet to be exact!

I guess I’m also obliged to mention Dedicated Weapon from Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything which lets you turn any weapon you’re proficient in into a Monk weapon as long as it’s not Heavy or Special. This will be important later but it’s not exactly in-character for Zac.

LEVEL 3 - MONK 3

Third level Monks get to choose their Monastic Tradition and Way of the Astral Self will give you some long stretchy limbs! As a bonus action you can spend 1 Ki to summon Arms of the Astral Self. When you do so, each creature of your choice that you can see within 10 feet of you must succeed on a Dexterity saving throw or take force damage equal to two rolls of your Martial Arts die due to your Unstable Matter.

Your arms will stay up for 10 minutes and give the following benefits:

You can use your Wisdom modifier in place of your Strength modifier when making Strength checks and Strength saving throws.

You can use the spectral arms to make unarmed strikes, which has the following benefits:

The reach of the arms is 5 feet greater than normal, which stacks with your Bugbear arms. 15 foot reach with extra stretchy arms!

The unarmed strikes you make with the arms can use your Wisdom modifier in place of your Strength or Dexterity modifier for the attack and damage rolls, and their damage type is force.

You can also absorb some blows with Deflect Missiles. When you are hit by a ranged weapon attack you can use your reaction to reduce the damage by 1d10 + your DEX mod + your monk level. If you reduce the damage to 0, you can catch the missile. You can then spend 1 ki point to throw it back as part of the same reaction. You make this attack with proficiency, regardless of your weapon proficiencies, and the missile counts as a monk weapon for the attack, which has a normal range of 20 feet and a long range of 60 feet.

Tasha’s Cauldron of Everyone also gave Monks the Ki-Fueled Attack ability which pretty much doesn’t impact you in the slightest.

LEVEL 4 - MONK 4

4th level Monks get an Ability Score Improvement but we’re instead going to grab the Skilled Expert feat. You can increase your Wisdom by 1 and grab proficiency in Survival for optimal jungle clear. But what we’re mainly here for is to make our hands extra sticky with expertise in Athletics! Is the build starting to make sense now?

You can also land safely after an Elastic Slingshot jump thanks to Slow Fall, reducing fall damage by 5 times your Monk level. If you want to keep yourself in the fight then Quickened Healing (also from TCoE, because that book really likes giving new Monk features) will let you take advantage of Cell Division for 2 Ki points, healing you for a number rolled on your Martial Arts die plus your Proficiency bonus. It’s not much but in a pinch it might save you!

LEVEL 5 - MONK 5

5th level Monks get an Extra Attack, so you can punch twice with your action, and then punch some more with your Bonus Action! You can also bring some heavy CC into the party with Stunning Strike; if you hit an enemy in melee you can force a Constitution save or stun them! Yes actual honest-to-god League of Legends stun!

Oh and because Tasha’s Cauldron really wanted to buff the Monk you get Focused Aim, letting you use up to 3 Ki points to increase your roll to hit, at a 2:1 ratio. (1 Ki point = +2 to hit)

(Artwork by SemLimit on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 6 - BARBARIAN 1

Jumping over to Barbarian, land of the true tanks. Barbarians get Unarmored Defense based on Constitution that we won’t be using but I’m obliged to mention anyways. Of course what we’re here for is Rage which will augment you in a number of ways: you’ll resist Bludgeoning, Piercing, and Slashing damage and will do more damage with Strength-based attacks (which you probably won’t be making.) But the most important feature is this line right here:

You have advantage on Strength checks and Strength saving throws.

You know what’s a Strength check? Athletics! So even if you use Wisdom for it you’ll still have Advantage on top of Expertise! And Athletics is used for grappling! At least that’s how I’d rule it, but talk to your DM just to make sure they’ll let this dopey shit into their game.

LEVEL 7 - BARBARIAN 2

Second level Barbarians can let themselves go with Reckless Attack. Your Unstable Matter will give you advantage on your attack at the cost of giving enemies advantage to hit you.

You also get Danger Sense for advantage on Dexterity saves against effects you can see coming. Is a Jinx rocket heading your way? Slingshot out of there!

LEVEL 8 - BARBARIAN 3

Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything gave Barbarians Primal Knowledge for a free skill proficiency from the Barbarian list, so take Intimidation I guess because you are a huge freaky slime guy.

Third level Barbarians get to choose their Primal Path and guess what? It’s Totem Warrior time! As a Spirit Seeker you can cast Speak With Animals and Beast Sense as a Ritual but we all know that’s not what we’re here for. What we’re really here for is the Totem Spirit of the Bear. You can now resist all damage while Raging, with the exception of Psychic damage. Hey there has to be %health damage to deal with tanks after all. (Now if only they’d nerf Grievous Wounds.)

LEVEL 9 - MONK 6

This will be our last Monk level; sad I know. But it’s worth it for the Visage of the Astral Self. You can use a Bonus Action and a Ki point to summon the visage. (And can do it while summoning your arms.) While the spectral visage is present, you gain several benefits:

Astral Sight lets you see through magical (and nonmagical) darkness up to 120 feet.

Wisdom of the Spirit gives you advantage on Wisdom (Insight) and Charisma (Intimidation) checks.

And Word of the Spirit lets you either whisper in team chat to a creature of your choice that you can see within 60 feet of you, or shout in all chat so that everyone within 600 feet can hear you.

Your regular fists are also considered magical thanks to Ki-Empowered Strikes, and you get 5 more feet of Unarmored Movement! "Woohoo!"

(Artwork by Dragonflamebg on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 10 - FIGHTER 1

Teamfight time? Team Fighter time! First level Fighters get a Fighting Style and since you’re punching people your only real option is Superior Technique, giving you a d6 Combat Superiority die to use on a Battle Master Manuever. That Manuever shall be Grappling Strike, letting you grapple as a Bonus Action after punching someone for some Stretching Strikes!

You can also heal with Cell Division assuming the enemy team doesn’t stack Grievous Wounds thanks to Second Wind; it’s a d10 plus your Fighter level. "Keep it together."

LEVEL 11 - FIGHTER 2

Second level Fighters get Action Surge for even more punching! This will be more important in like, two levels.

LEVEL 12 - FIGHTER 3

Third level Fighters get to choose their Martial Archetype and for some crowd control in a teamfight Battle Master is a great choice. You are a Student of War which means more tool proficiencies which make no sense because Zac has no lore woo! But of course what we’re mainly here for is Combat Superiority: you have four d8 Superiority Die (plus a d6 one from your Fighting Style) which you can use on a variety of Maneuvers:

Trip Attack is good if you want to bounce, forcing the target you hit to make a Strength save or fall over!

Distracting Strike is like stunning the target in the sense that it gives your allies an opening, but unlike Trip Attack you don’t have to force a saving throw. (Instead Distracting Strike just works after you hit them!)

And if you think your arms aren’t stretchy enough already? Boom; Lunging Attack for 20 foot reach!

LEVEL 13 - FIGHTER 4

4th level Fighters get an Ability Score Improvement: hey it’s everyone’s favorite feat Grappler! You have advantage on attacks against enemies you grappled, and if you’re grappling someone you can then pin them to hold them in place!

Now pinning someone you’ve grappled does take an action but here’s where Action Surge comes in: turn 1? Grab them. Turn 2? Pin them! Easy!

LEVEL 14 - FIGHTER 5

5th level Fighters get an Extra Attack... which you already have. "I hate it when this happens."

LEVEL 15 - FIGHTER 6

Hey more Ability Score Improvements! Want all the fun of a high Constitution score without the Constitution? Look no further than the Tough feat: it gives you +2 HP per level for some big gains!

(Artwork by GisAlmeida on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 16 - FIGHTER 7

7th level Fighters get to Know Your Enemy: by spending a minute studying someone (IE looking at the scoreboard) you can learn if an enemy is superior, inferior, or equal to you in a number of areas described by the ability.

You also get one more Combat Superiority die and learn two more Maneuvers: Goading Attack will make it harder for enemies to hit your friends (and it works against Tier 4 enemies who likely resist fears), and Disarming Attack will let you stick your hand to your opponent’s weapon to make them drop it!

LEVEL 17 - FIGHTER 8

8th level means more ASIs and I’m starting to think ignoring all your stats was a bad idea. More Wisdom means better punches, better grabs, and better AC.

LEVEL 18 - FIGHTER 9

9th level Fighters get Indomitable, letting them reroll a failed saving throw once per Long Rest. Regardless of what you roll on the new die however you have to use the new result. This can be used on Death saves to try to keep alive a little longer thanks to Cell Division.

LEVEL 19 - FIGHTER 10

10th level Battle Masters get Improved Combat Superiority. Your superiority die are d10s now; even the one from your Fighting Style! You do also learn more Maneuvers but honestly? We got just about everything that we need already. If you’ve hit level 19 playing Zac League of Legends then you deserve to make some choices of your own.

LEVEL 20 - FIGHTER 11

Our final level is the 11th level of Fighter for an Extra Attack that does stack! That means you have 3 attacks total and one extra from Martial Arts!

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Beat up, or beat down? I'm flexible - No matter how you look at it 4 attacks per round is great, especially since you can give yourself Advantage and boost your damage output with Battle Master Maneuvers.

Pick on someone your own size - If everything goes well you should have a solid 200 health by level 20! Definitely nothing to sneeze at, especially with Rage giving you resistance to almost everything and Second Wind letting you heal yourself!

This is gonna get messy - You’ve got a +16 to Athletics checks for Grappling when using your Astral Arms, and can give yourself Advantage or add Superiority die to your Grapple checks. Do I need to explain that that’s really good?

CONS

Don't push your luck, champ - None of your stats are maxed out, and that’s bad. Your hit modifier isn’t great, your Battle Master saving throw is low, but most importantly your AC is really bad. Big health is nice but not being hit is also very helpful. Just saying if you have the chance to go for Point Buy I’d take it.

I never skip breakfast - A small pool of Ki combined with limited Maneuver die means that you’re running on some very potent fumes. Frequent short rests will be needed to make the most out of this build.

These jerks don't know when to quit! - Grappling builds have the ever-constant problem of falling off in the late game when most foes simply can’t be grabbed. This build honestly peaks around level 13 and just falls off from there. This is definitely one of my builds that I think works better in a low level campaign.

But if you want something unique that works well early here’s your build! Big reach to hold everyone in place so your party can beat them up. Playing the CC tank might not be that glorious but it’s a job someone’s gotta do. And remember: "It's not how much you can lift. It's how good you look!"

(Artist unknown. Made for Riot Games.)

#dnd #dnd build #dnd guide #League of Legends #League of Legends Zac #dnd monk #dnd fighter #dnd grappler

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bewitching-elizabeth-olsen · 4 years ago

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Press/Gallery: Elizabeth Olsen Is Ready to Lead the MCU

An ambitious new Disney+ series might just give the strongest Avenger the happy ending she deserves.

GALLERY LINKS

Studio Photoshoots > 2021 > Session 001

ELLE: We can’t keep meeting Elizabeth Olsen like this. By “this,” I mean in the throes of catastrophe or bereavement, or, to put it plainly, when she’s an emotional wreck. In the 2018 Facebook Watch drama Sorry For Your Loss, Olsen assumes the role of Leigh Shaw, a young widow grappling with the unexpected loss of her husband and all the painful nuisances that come with death: the unbearable waves of sadness, the clichéd condolences, a grief support group that runs out of donuts. At one point, Leigh says through a cracked voice, “I’m just mad all the time.” It’s hard not to draw parallels to Olsen’s other angry character. After all, “mad” is exactly how 2015’s Avengers: Age of Ultron introduced us to Wanda Maximoff.

Defined by tragedy since her Marvel debut, Wanda (aka the Scarlet Witch) is an orphan with telekinetic powers. When not saving the world, she spends most of her time onscreen grieving the deaths of her parents, twin brother, or lover. Wanda’s never been allowed to fully exist outside the confines of her grief and anger, but with the launch of WandaVision—Marvel’s foray into serialized content for streaming—she may just be getting the happy ending she deserves.

Partly inspired by The Vision comic book, which follows synthezoid superhero Vision and his family as they move to the suburbs of Washington, D.C., the Disney+ series is an ode to the TV sitcoms we’ve come to love, with Wanda and Vision (Paul Bettany) basking in newlywed bliss—except Vision’s been very dead (killed twice, in fact) since the events of 2018’s Avengers: Infinity War. It’s unclear exactly how these starcrossed characters got to suburbia, but for now, it’s a delight to see the typically solemn duo sink their teeth into slapstick comedy.

“The show is like a blank slate for them,” Olsen tells me over Zoom, her light brown fringe a departure from Wanda’s red waves. The Scarlet Witch’s doleful glare is also long gone; in its place, Olsen’s eyes are wide with excitement. “Wanda and Vision’s journey to this point is a story of pure, innocent love and deep connection with another person,” she explains. “It was also very traumatizing. Tragedy has always been their story. In our show, we kind of wipe that clean and start fresh.”

But Wanda’s complicated past looms over WandaVision. Age of Ultron saw her and her twin brother, Pietro, initially opposing the Avengers (the siblings volunteered for a series of experiments with Hydra—a super evil organization within the MCU—after the deaths of their parents at the hands of Tony Stark’s Stark Industries) before switching sides to help save the Earth. The movie ends in victory for our superheroes, but yet another tragedy for Wanda when Pietro dies in battle. She finds comfort in the arms of Vision, an android created from the remains of Tony’s J.A.R.V.I.S. program, but even that bliss is short-lived. You see, Vision can only live with the help of the Mind Stone, which Mad Titan Thanos needs to take over the universe. In Infinity War, Vision asks Wanda to sacrifice him, and Wanda reluctantly agrees—but Thanos reverses time to gain control of the stone, killing the robot for a second time. Wanda’s pain is palpable: Imagine sacrificing the love of your life to save everyone else, just to watch him brought back to life and killed again—by the very villain you’re trying to defeat.

Though the thrill of playing a character with superhuman abilities is enticing for any actress, Olsen says it was Wanda’s internal battle with mental health that attracted her to the role in the first place. “[Joss Whedon] explained to me that Wanda Maximoff has always been this pillar of the struggle of mental health, from her pain and depression and traumatic experiences to how she completely alters the reality of the comics,” Olsen says of her early conversations with the Age of Ultron director. “The thing I held onto after reading the initial script was that she was not only powerful because of her abilities, but because of her emotions.”

In fact, MCU theorists would argue she’s one of, if not the, strongest Avenger. She can infiltrate the others’ minds to reveal their biggest fears (Age of Ultron). She can overpower Vision and send him plunging through several floors to break up a fight between warring superheroes (Avengers: Civil War). She can even bring Thanos to his knees, snapping his sword in half and forcibly removing his armor piece by piece (Infinity War).

Still, “they keep slapping her over the head with more grief,” Olsen quips.

As phase one of the Marvel Cinematic Universe began with the sound of clanging metal on May 2, 2008, phase four kicked off on January 15, 2021 with a kitschy 1950s sitcom theme: “She’s a magical gal in a small town locale / he’s a hubby who’s part machine / How will this duo fit in and pull through? Oh, by sharing a love / like you’ve never seen.”

With WandaVision, Marvel steers clear of the typical superhero trappings: no destructive battles at a Berlin airport or across the streets of New York City; no blonde-haired god time-traveling to other realms; no tree-like alien fight alongside a raccoon. Wandavision takes place after the events of Endgame in a fictional suburban town called Westview, and the biggest problem the newlyweds face in the show’s opening moments is creating a convincing backstory to get nosy neighbor Agnes (Kathryn Hahn) off their backs.

“They are just trying to fit in,” Olsen explains. “They’re trying to not be found out by their neighbors that they’re super-powered beings.” Now, if only we can figure out what the hell is actually going on. Olsen remains tight-lipped: “The reason it’s a sitcom shows itself later in the show,” she hints. “When Kevin [Feige] told me, it didn’t feel so bizarre. It felt like a great way to start our story.”

“With our show, you don’t know what the villain is, or if there is one at all.”

So, is Wanda stuck in the first stage of grief, denial? Has she altered reality as a coping mechanism for Vision’s death? Is she being held hostage by a terrorist organization (ahem, Hydra!)? One thing we do know is that someone is watching the couple and taking notes. At the end of episode 1, the camera pans out from a retro TV playing an episode of WandaVision (meta!) to show a hand jotting down notes. There’s a strange sword symbol on the notebook and a nearby control board, and in episode 2, the same sign appears on a toy helicopter lodged in the couple’s front yard. Later, when a mysterious beekeeper crawls out of the sewer on the couple’s street, the symbol is seen on the back of his suit. In its 20-plus movies, Marvel villains have always existed in plain sight. But with a new, less obvious darkness lurking at every turn, Wanda may have to return to her world-saving roots.

“Someone said to me when you watch any of these hero movies, you know when the villain’s about to show themselves, and you also have an idea of who the villain is,” Olsen says. “With our show, you don’t know what the villain is, or if there is one at all.” For now, WandaVision allows for glimmers of hope and optimism for Wanda and Vision, despite what darkness tries to threaten their happiness. “Wanda is trying to protect everything in her bubble, protect what she and Vision have and this experience,” Olsen says. “I think everything she does is in response to keeping things together.”

In addition to exploding the concept of the superhero onscreen, WandaVision toys with a different era of TV in each episode. The pilot takes viewers to the ‘50s with an episode filmed in front of a live studio audience, and Wanda dresses up in the quintessential housewife garb, not a hair out of place in her voluminous bob. By the time we click on episode 2, she trades in her apron and kitten heels for a more pared-down ‘60s look, while episode 3 gives a nod to the ‘70s, complete with a Brady Bunch-style staircase and a shag haircut for Vision.

While dressing up was the fun part, time-hopping through the eras required a lot of binge-watching old sitcoms to get the mannerisms down right. Olsen studied series like The Dick Van Dyke Show, The Brady Bunch, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, and Bewitched to “understand the tones of each era” and get a grasp of how Wanda and Vision should act as a couple. (One of her favorite TV pairings was Jane Kaczmarek and Bryan Cranston from Malcolm in the Middle.) She was fascinated by the way female characters evolved through the decades: “You have to learn appropriate manners—what’s considered being polite or proper. That coincides with women’s voices changing,” she explains. “I enjoyed challenging myself to match the syntax and the lyricism. I live in a very chest-register kind of deep voice. I had to remember not to bring it up at certain moments.”

For so long, Wanda served as a supporting character to Marvel’s biggest names, and the formulaic mundanity of the major theatrical releases made it easy to get comfortable. WandaVision offered Olsen a much-needed challenge. “I’ve only been working for 10 years, but there is this feeling where you start to get comfortable,” she says. “WandaVision was the furthest thing from comfortable for me. It felt intimidating. The character is a completely different thing.”

And fans hoping for a little Marvel action won’t be disappointed. “We still live up to what Marvel does,” she promises. “We just tell the story in a completely different way. It’s a very emotional, female story and it’s a story they haven’t told yet for either of our characters.” Whatever your theory is, keep the cliché condolences to yourself. No one will be uttering, “Sorry for your loss” in Wanda’s world.

Press/Gallery: Elizabeth Olsen Is Ready to Lead the MCU was originally published on Elizabeth Olsen Source • Your source for everything Elizabeth Olsen

#Elizabeth Olsen #WandaVision #Avengers #Scarlet Witch #Wanda Maximoff #Sorry For Your Loss #Avengers Infinity War #Avengers Age of Ultron #Captain America Civil War #Ingrid Goes West #Godzilla

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